Chapter 17

 

"Oh, God," she whispered, her heart sinking. She needed Brian. The one time she was actually alone here in the house and Ian happened to appear. That couldn't be a coincidence. He had to have been watching…and waiting. Just the thought of Ian having kept such a close watch on her to time this so perfectly was bringing her close to the edge of panic.

 

"Hello, Karina. Did you ever wonder why a criminal would bother to bring weapons of his own?" His smile was slow, cold and…empty. "When there are always so many available, no matter where you go?"

 

"No, I can't say that I ever thought about it. What are you doing here, Ian? It's been years." She kept her voice cool and unconcerned. But her gaze shifted constantly between the knife and his face before zipping to the open glass doors behind him. Could she make it?

 

"I didn't get a chance to say hi on Thursday night. Too bad. However, I did get to have a nice chat with the police instead."

 

He looked anything but happy at that reminder. Mark was right—Ian was pissed. A menacing, dark evil lived in those eyes, a malevolent essence that had been growing inside for who knows how long. Ian had crossed over the fine line of sanity into madness.

 

And she had no idea what to do.

 

The teakettle whistled sharply behind Karina. Shaking inside, she forced herself to make a pot of tea in as relaxed a manner possible. As if finding a crazy man inside her house was an everyday occurrence. So what if her hand shook so badly that she spilt most of the water. Not knowing what else to do, she carried the pot over to the table before going back to the cupboard and pulling out two cups.

 

Through every movement she felt the intensity of his gaze burning into her, but he never said a word.

 

The open glass doors represented freedom. What would he do if she made a run for it? His eyes stalked her, like a tiger crouched and waiting for her to make a move. Feeling very much like prey, she wasn't sure where her best chance lay. Bolt or stay? Therefore, she did nothing.

 

"Do you want milk and sugar in your tea?" She carried on treating him like a visiting neighbor. Operating on nerves alone, she opened the fridge and automatically brought out milk for her own tea. Not that she'd be able to get a sip of it down her throat.

 

"I don't want any tea." There was no inflection in his voice. There was no hint of the bright anger burning in his eyes. Unfortunately, there was also no sign of sanity, either.

 

"I'll call Brian and see when he'll be home." She grabbed up the phone. She punched one number. Two. Three. Four—

 

"Put down the phone." His voice—so low, so deadly—stalled her hand in midair.

 

He didn't touch her. He didn't have to. He'd picked up the knife instead.

 

The receiver dropped from her numb fingers. Karina closed her eyes, fighting the overwhelming urge to run. Run where? He was a big, fit man. He'd overtake her in no time. If she went down to the beach, there was a chance that she might find someone to help her. However, there was just as good a chance that she wouldn't make it that far.

 

The front door was too far away to reach. It also wouldn't help much. There were no neighbors close enough to hear her scream. The house no longer provided any protection. There was no place to hide and no way to fight him off.

 

So what was she going to do? She turned to face him.

 

"What do you want from me?" Surely, that wasn't her voice that sounded so calm, so normal.

 

"I want my life back."

 

"And you expect me to give it back to you?" she questioned him. Disbelief at his words shocked her fear to a halt.

 

"You and Brian. Yes." He nodded agreeably.

 

She lifted her hands toward him "How?"

 

"That's for you to figure out." He leaned back comfortably in the kitchen chair. His hand continued to play with the knife handle, belying his apparent lack of interest.

 

"What you really want is your wife back, isn't it?" Karina could understand that. He'd lost something important to him.

 

"I want my old life back—the way it was before my wife went to Brian's seminar."

 

"And what if she doesn't want you back? Then what?" Karina was starting to get irritated. Okay, it wasn't the most sensible way to deal with someone so obviously out of control. Then again, she wasn't feeling very sensible at this exact moment. Fury over the fact that he'd threatened and terrified her over the last few months burned away some of the fear that had lodged in her belly.

 

She couldn't possibly help him. He was marching to a tune that only he could hear and follow.

 

"You're nuts," she sputtered. Nope, definitely not a well-thought-out response.

 

"I'm not fucking crazy!" As though a switch had been flipped, fury roared in, instantly replacing Ian's apparent complacency. He jumped up from his chair, knocking it over in the process. His wrath spurred him into action and he kicked the hapless chair across the room. "Don't call me crazy!" He grabbed up the knife and stabbed it into the table beside her hand.

 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, calm down. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it." She cringed at the hell she'd unleashed. Oh, please, Brian, where are you? Tears flooded her eyes. What could she do? Ian was crazy. She sat motionless in her chair, desperately trying to hold back her sobs.

 

"Just shut the fuck up. God, I hate crying women." He paced the kitchen. "Don't you have anything to eat here? Wussy strawberries with chocolate. Namby-pamby salad. Is that the kind of shit you feed your man? How long do you expect him to be happy with that gourmet healthy crap? Where's the fucking meat? Cheese! Peanut butter! Where are the goddamned basics?"

 

He slammed the cupboards closed, storming through the kitchen like a tornado. Anything that was in his way, he dumped. Anything he didn't like he threw to the floor in disgust. Items he wanted he tossed onto the table.

 

With every loud bang and crash, Karina jumped. Ian terrified her. His large, burly, unkempt frame rambled through her kitchen, leaving a path of destruction as he went.

 

By accident, he happened upon the breadbox. Until now, she'd thought the red toadstool was a cute, whimsical addition to Brian's kitchen.

 

Ian ripped open the bread bag and dumped out the contents. He reached for the knife and casually made himself a sandwich.

 

Karina just stared at him in horror. This relaxed, calm manner frightened her even more than the violent outburst. The uncertainty of not knowing what would set him off next terrified her. A creeping numbness was slowly overtaking her muscles. How could she reach Brian? How could she reach anyone? There was no way to make a phone call, and she didn't dare try to run—although that option kept nagging at her.

 

If Ian would ever get away from the door long enough for her to make a break for it.

 

What if she made her move when she heard Brian's car? Could she get to him before he exited, allowing them both to get away? Brian would have his cell phone, which would allow them to immediately call for help.

 

Part of her didn't want Brian to come home. No, God, that wasn't true—she wanted him home desperately, but didn't want him walking into this situation.

 

Ian returned to the table with his mess of sandwiches. He'd already eaten the better part of the first one, but now several more were now stacked up on the table. He rummaged in the fridge, still grumbling about the apparent lack of decent food.

 

"You don't even keep any beer in this place. What's with this skim milk shit?" Disgust oozed out of him. Obviously, he wasn't a believer in the current recommended healthy, low-fat lifestyle. Ian pulled over another chair and sat down at the table with his stolen goods.

 

Karina stared across the room. The knife was on the other side of the kitchen.

 

She glanced back at Ian. He was busy inhaling his food. She couldn't even tell if he was chewing, the food went down in Doberman-sized bites at an alarming rate. If she was going to make a move, it needed to be now.

 

There was a noise from the driveway.

 

He froze and then cocked his head to listen. Finally shoving back from the table, he walked over to the patio doors to listen.

 

No doubt about it, a car was pulling into the front driveway.

 

Karina slid off her perch as soundlessly as possible and edged over to the kitchen entrance leading to the front door. Ian's attention was focused outside, toward the side of the house. He'd be able to see cars turning toward their place from the main road. Yet, if the car had already turned in, his line of sight would be blocked.

 

Without giving herself a chance to second-guess her actions, she raced to the front door. A yell erupted behind her as she pulled it open, her unco-operative fingers fumbling with the handle. Finally outside, she jumped down the steps and raced on wobbly legs towards the car. It was Brian. Thank God.

 

She waved her arms at him in panic.

 

"Ian's here! We have to get out. Keep the car running!" she screamed.

 

Unfortunately, he misunderstood her. Brian shut off the car, climbing out of the vehicle and running out toward her.

 

"Karina, what's wrong?" He grabbed her arms, trying to hold her still.

 

"No! Go! In the car! Ian's here. He's crazy. Hurry we have to run!" She tried to pull him toward the Porsche. "Come on, he's got a knife! We've got to get out of here!" Karina sobbed, her uncooperative mouth stumbling over the words in her panic.

 

"Get into the car. We'll call Markham on the cell."

 

She almost made it.

 

Until Ian stepped out from the darkness to stand in her path.

 

Karina shrieked in fear and surprise and stumbled backward into Brian's arms.

 

"Ian, what are you doing? My God. What do you want?" Brian's voice was strong and forceful, and a tiny feather of relief whispered over her. Gasping for breath, Karina worked hard to regain control. Brian was here now. Between the two of them, they might just be able to get out of this unharmed. But she needed to get it together and be strong.

 

Ian just stood there, a macabre grin on his face. He didn't say a word. Slowly he lifted his right hand. The kitchen knife gleamed with sinister intent in the dusky, late-afternoon light.

 

Karina felt Brian's breath catch in his chest, as the truth impacted on his consciousness. Now he, too, knew just how insane Ian was.

 

"When I say so, I want you to run to the Sorenson's place. Okay?" Brian whispered against her ear.

 

She nodded, her eyes fixed on the nightmare beside the car, but her mind tuned to Brian. Her muscles tensed, awaiting the word.

 

"Now!" He gave her a slight push in the right direction.

 

Karina jackrabbitted to freedom only to realize as she reached the marginal safety of the trees that she was alone. Brian wasn't with her. Frantically, she searched in the fading light. The clouds sweeping in from the ocean added a gray dinginess to the air.

 

"Oh God!" she whispered. "No, Brian, no!"

 

Two shadows struggling in the dark left no doubt as to Brian's whereabouts. He was trying to subdue Ian and give her a chance for freedom. Karina could only watch helplessly as the figures slammed to the ground, one trying to fight off the other. Was that Brian or Ian down? If it was Brian, she had to help him. Ian's madness made him even stronger than normal. She crept closer, wincing at the grunts and sounds of physical contact echoing in the shadows. There was no way to tell one from the other. In the darkness, they blended, formed and reformed into one another, both unidentifiable in combat. One thick, muscled arm rose and slammed down against the opposing body with an audible thud. Silence followed.

 

Slowly, the aggressor struggled to his feet. The other body lay crumpled on the ground, motionless. The man stood, shakily gasping for breath and staring directly at her in the gloom. Could he see her? Was it Brian? Karina stood perfectly still, too frightened of revealing her position to the wrong man. The figure took a few steps in her direction. Karina broke out of her frozen stance and she raced towards the safety of the nearest neighbor's home. Running was all she could think about. Just as she broke through the dense tree line, the shouts coming from behind her finally registered.

 

"Karina! Karina! Stop! It's me, Brian."

 

With her chest heaving and her breath ragged, she stumbled to a stop. Turning around she could barely make out Brian crashing through the trees behind her.

 

"Brian! Oh, thank God." Her body shook so violently she could hardly breathe, and her heart slammed against her ribs, urging her to keep running. Brian's arms wrapped protectively around her, and they stood locked together for a couple of minutes. To Karina, it felt closer to an eternity. Just as she thought she might be able to stand on her own, Brian pulled back to look down at her.

 

"We need to call Markham. He can get someone out here to look after Ian."

 

"Is he dead?" she asked as they started back in the direction of Brian's house.

 

"No. I just hope I hit him hard enough to keep him out until they get here."

 

"Are your hurt?" Frantically, she ran her hands over him, looking for any injuries. Ian could have killed him. As she checked him over, Brian contacted the police.

 

Officer Markham answered on the first ring. Brian, his voice still ragged from the running, brusquely told him what had happened, and that they needed both him and any cruiser that might be close by.

 

"He's out cold, but I don't know how long he'll stay that way. I don't want to try to subdue him again. His strength is unbelievable. I can't help but think I got lucky."

 

"Head out to the main road just in case Ian does come to." Karina could hear Markham's side of the conversation through the cell. "You'll have a better chance if there are more people around. We're on our way. And do not go back there."

 

Karina's relief that help was on the way warred with her fear about Ian. "Do you think we should go back and make sure he's still out?"

 

Brian frowned. "Markham said to not go back, but I don't want him to wake up and take off. Damn. I should have tied him up right away."

 

"I need to know that he can't come after us again." Karina shuddered at the thought. "Let's go do it now before he wakes up."

 

Quickly but carefully, they retraced their steps in the dim evening light. The overcast sky made the journey more difficult without the help of moonlight. Now that the adrenaline was beginning to leave her system, Karina's feet were in agony. She hadn't had time to grab shoes before running out the door. She knew the rough twigs and rocks had done a hell of a job cutting them up. When they got closer to the house, she felt Brian's body tense.

 

"Brian? What's the matter?"

 

"Ian's gone! Damn it!" Brian pivoted, searching their surroundings. "Turn around. We're getting out of here now!"

 

He tugged on her arm, pulling her out towards the main road.

 

"Oh my God. He's here somewhere. Maybe he's still watching us." She couldn’t stop swiveling her head in all directions, searching the darkness. She hated feeling like he was out there, somewhere, waiting for them.

 

Brian angled farther over to take them to the main road. "Can you run, Karina?"

 

She broke into a run rather than waste any energy on answering. Fear had already consumed the bulk of her fuel stores. Adrenaline could only carry her so far before exhaustion would take over. The realization made her steps falter.

 

"Come on, honey. You can do it. Just a little bit farther."

 

Karina forced her exhausted body up onto the main road. It was deserted.

 

"Now where?" Karina pressed her hand against her screaming lungs and stumbled to keep moving on. It was easier now that they were on the paved road but the bottoms of her feet were swollen and agonizingly sore. At least there was still no sign of Ian. Thank God.

 

"We'll head up to the crossroads. There's sure to be someone there. Come on." Brian's steps faltered and he slowed to look at her. "Damn, I'm sorry, Karina, I didn't realize that you're barefoot."

 

She shrugged, unable to pull in enough air to answer. Instead, she grasped Brian's proffered arm and gave it a squeeze. Groaning, she dug a little deeper for the last shreds of strength she could gather and pushed on.

 

Headlights appeared at the crossroads, accompanied by flashing lights and barely discernible sound of sirens.

 

With the promise of safety ahead, Karina collapsed on the grass at the side of the road, sprawling out to give her lungs a chance to recuperate. She was finished. And all she cared about was the fact that, as far as she knew, Ian wasn't anywhere nearby. And even if he was still around, with any luck, the sirens and lights would have chased him off. She inhaled the smell of warm grass, fumes and fear—what a combination.

 

Brian sank down beside her. "There's no sign of him. I don't want to assume he's left the area, though." He continued to search the surrounding gloom from the grassy spot beside Karina. As the patrol cars approached, he waved them down and they came to a screeching stop.

 

Karina was beyond talking. Brian was doing a bang-up job giving the explanations. The two officers were immediately on the radio, calling for backup and paramedics. Minutes later, Markham and his partner arrived. Instantly, he'd initiated a search of the area, barking orders to the other officers.

 

"Are you two okay? Do you need medical attention?" Markham asked, crouching low to the ground beside Karina.

 

"No," Karina shook her head. "I'm just scared and very tired. My feet hurt a bit. I don't have my shoes." She managed to sit up with Brian's help, relief obvious on the men's faces.

 

"Can you tell us what happened, Karina?" Officer Markham asked, wrapping a rough wool emergency blanket around her shoulders.

 

"I don't really want to, but I guess I don't have a choice," she replied wearily. Brian pulled her into his arms, silently giving her his support.

 

Karina leaned against him, taking strength from him. Closing her eyes, she related everything that happened since the moment she'd turned around in the kitchen to find Ian sitting there with her knife. Shutting the world out to relive her memories was a hidden blessing. When she finished her account and opened her eyes, she saw the blood had leached out of Brian's face and pain creased his features. He too, closed his eyes and hugged her tightly.

 

"I can't believe he got up after that last punch," Brian added, his voice raw. "It should have been enough to keep him out. He has to be gone by now, right?"

 

"Oh, no. He's still here," Karina said bitterly. "He's here and he's watching us. He isn't sane anymore. He wants us and he's not going to let this go."

 

"Did you see any other weapons besides the knife?" Markham asked.

 

Karina paused to consider. "No. But I can't be sure that he didn't have more hidden on him." Shivers raced up and down her arms and she shuddered again. Just the thought of Ian with other weapons was enough to destroy her fragile newfound security.

 

Brian pulled her closer into his embrace.

 

Markham stepped away to put a call in to the department, leaving the two of them sitting on the grass.

 

Wordlessly, they held each other, savoring their lives and the connection between them after coming so close to losing everything.

 

But icy fingers of fear wrapped themselves around Karina's spine. She knew there'd be no rest while Ian remained free.