A shiver crawled down my spine. I didn’t even want to know about those moments. “I won’t let you hurt her.”
A keen look entered her eyes and she drew closer. I grew wary. Right here, this was the killer in front of me. I could believe everything she had spouted by the pool. She was tiny, but there was an unnatural aura coming from her. She was cold, yet happy. She was calculating and eager at the same time. I had never viewed this Mena before. Crazy, yes. Hurt, yes. A lost little girl not long ago. But this woman? Another shiver wracked through my body, tightening every nerve in my body, making my stomach churn. This woman was a serial killer.
“Move, Sheldon. I’ll only say it this last time.”
“One slice won’t take me down, bitch—”
Her hand darted, and I felt a little nip across my throat. “What?” I frowned in confusion. Her knife had blood, and she stepped back. I saw there was a lot of blood. Then I felt a cold trickle moving over my skin, and I glanced down. Blood, dark red, almost black, had already covered my chest. I touched my neck, then pulled it away. As I saw the blood on my hand, the pain hit me, and everything sagged out of me.
A metallic taste filled my mouth. “Wha—”
Mena stepped closer to me. Her hand went to my arm, and she began to move me aside. It was a gentle touch, but firm and guiding at the same moment.
Then the cold started in. “Mena, what did you do?”
“I told you. One slice to move you out of the way.”
My knees began to buckle then and Mena helped me to the floor. She murmured, straightening back up, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of Carolina and then call 911. They’ll think Carolina attacked us.” Resolve settled over her face. “I’ll have to cut myself, but I know how to do it. Everything will be fine.” She patted my shoulder and moved to the door.
Time slowed then. I checked out of my body and from a distance, I heard myself yelling, “RUN, CAROLINA! RUN! RUUUUUNNNN.” No, I wasn’t shouting. I was screaming. Mena glared at me, her nostrils flared, and she reached for the door. Then she moved to the side. I saw what she was going to do. Carolina would rush in and she would gut her, take her by surprise, as Carolina would come to me first. Her hand had a firm grip on the knife behind her—but it wasn’t Carolina’s body that came through the door first.
Bryce rushed in, his eyes wild and his skin pale. He was first to come in. There were others behind him, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from him. He was the first victim.
She narrowed her eyes, but as he saw me, her arm started to swing around—she was going for him. I tried to sit up. My hand reached out, but it was happening too fast. I couldn’t stop it.
And then someone else shot through the door. A firm hand gripped Mena’s wrist, but it happened too fast for her to stop. She was lunging at Bryce with her arm, using the weight of her body to help with her force.
That hand flicked her wrist around so the knife was pointed to her.
Mena impaled herself on the knife. She choked out, and her eyes trailed upward, then widened as she saw Corrigan scowling back down at her. “You,” she breathed out. “You love her, too. I know—”
He punched her, and her body crumbled to the floor.
“Down, bitch.” Then Corrigan turned to me. “You okay?”
And I passed out, for the umpteenth time.
EPILOGUE
My call to my mother had gone to her voicemail. It was her assistant that heard the alert from her phone and listened to the message. When she heard enough, she made two calls immediately. The first was to Daughter’s bf in my mom’s phone. That call went to Bryce and the other call was to 911.
Bryce was with Corrigan and Denton. All three of them got to the hotel first. I was told later that the guys carried us to the elevator. They were in the lobby when the police arrived. Paramedics weren’t far behind them. Corrigan had been carrying me. Denton carried his sister and Bryce helped Carolina, who had gone into shock when she realized what had happened.
Mena survived her own stabbing and charges were brought against her. She was sentenced to life in prison. It never went to jury so some information was never leaked, like that she was my sister. My father never found out, and everyone who did know had sworn to secrecy. It would only hurt him, and he seemed happy with Beth. Even though my own relationship would never be repaired with him, this was one way I was helping him, in my own way.
It was exactly one year ago that I found Grace’s killer. This was the first day I would speak to her again.
The visiting area was cold and impersonal.
Sitting in that seat, waiting for the guard to let Mena through, was surreal. Sitting here now, waiting to talk to her through a wall of glass and a phone between us for our conversation, I couldn’t help but ask myself why I was there. She took away so many people in my life. During the trial, I listened to every detail and every day, I got sick afterwards.
She had sought Marcus out. They bonded over their love for me and she was the one who molded him into a killer. She insisted they had to protect me. Everything was because of her. Marcus, though he had his own share of crazy, had been swept up in her delusional world.
I killed him, and I couldn’t help to think if I ever would’ve done that if she hadn’t entered his life? His blood was on my hands. Thinking about it now, I stared straight ahead and my hands curled into my lap, tugging on my sleeves. I gritted my teeth. It was her fault. All of it.
Then I heard a buzzing sound and a far door opened.
Mena was led inside wearing a bright orange jumper. The guard undid her chains and she walked to me, smiling.
I tugged harder on my sleeves. Damn. Even now, even after I had testified against her and shared everything she told me, everything she had done to me, she didn’t hate me. There was love shining back from her eyes.
As she took her seat, she placed a hand to the glass wall and spread her fingers.
The usual response would be to place mine on the other side.
I still didn’t even know if I wanted to talk to her, much less that response.
Coming to see her had been my only thought process. I wasn’t sure how I would react when I actually did see her, but she was here and she was reaching out for me.
My stomach turned over on itself again.
She frowned, pulling her hand away, and indicated to the phone. She picked hers up and waited, still frowning at me, her flawless skin marred from the lines in her forehead.
A keen look entered her eyes and she drew closer. I grew wary. Right here, this was the killer in front of me. I could believe everything she had spouted by the pool. She was tiny, but there was an unnatural aura coming from her. She was cold, yet happy. She was calculating and eager at the same time. I had never viewed this Mena before. Crazy, yes. Hurt, yes. A lost little girl not long ago. But this woman? Another shiver wracked through my body, tightening every nerve in my body, making my stomach churn. This woman was a serial killer.
“Move, Sheldon. I’ll only say it this last time.”
“One slice won’t take me down, bitch—”
Her hand darted, and I felt a little nip across my throat. “What?” I frowned in confusion. Her knife had blood, and she stepped back. I saw there was a lot of blood. Then I felt a cold trickle moving over my skin, and I glanced down. Blood, dark red, almost black, had already covered my chest. I touched my neck, then pulled it away. As I saw the blood on my hand, the pain hit me, and everything sagged out of me.
A metallic taste filled my mouth. “Wha—”
Mena stepped closer to me. Her hand went to my arm, and she began to move me aside. It was a gentle touch, but firm and guiding at the same moment.
Then the cold started in. “Mena, what did you do?”
“I told you. One slice to move you out of the way.”
My knees began to buckle then and Mena helped me to the floor. She murmured, straightening back up, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of Carolina and then call 911. They’ll think Carolina attacked us.” Resolve settled over her face. “I’ll have to cut myself, but I know how to do it. Everything will be fine.” She patted my shoulder and moved to the door.
Time slowed then. I checked out of my body and from a distance, I heard myself yelling, “RUN, CAROLINA! RUN! RUUUUUNNNN.” No, I wasn’t shouting. I was screaming. Mena glared at me, her nostrils flared, and she reached for the door. Then she moved to the side. I saw what she was going to do. Carolina would rush in and she would gut her, take her by surprise, as Carolina would come to me first. Her hand had a firm grip on the knife behind her—but it wasn’t Carolina’s body that came through the door first.
Bryce rushed in, his eyes wild and his skin pale. He was first to come in. There were others behind him, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from him. He was the first victim.
She narrowed her eyes, but as he saw me, her arm started to swing around—she was going for him. I tried to sit up. My hand reached out, but it was happening too fast. I couldn’t stop it.
And then someone else shot through the door. A firm hand gripped Mena’s wrist, but it happened too fast for her to stop. She was lunging at Bryce with her arm, using the weight of her body to help with her force.
That hand flicked her wrist around so the knife was pointed to her.
Mena impaled herself on the knife. She choked out, and her eyes trailed upward, then widened as she saw Corrigan scowling back down at her. “You,” she breathed out. “You love her, too. I know—”
He punched her, and her body crumbled to the floor.
“Down, bitch.” Then Corrigan turned to me. “You okay?”
And I passed out, for the umpteenth time.
EPILOGUE
My call to my mother had gone to her voicemail. It was her assistant that heard the alert from her phone and listened to the message. When she heard enough, she made two calls immediately. The first was to Daughter’s bf in my mom’s phone. That call went to Bryce and the other call was to 911.
Bryce was with Corrigan and Denton. All three of them got to the hotel first. I was told later that the guys carried us to the elevator. They were in the lobby when the police arrived. Paramedics weren’t far behind them. Corrigan had been carrying me. Denton carried his sister and Bryce helped Carolina, who had gone into shock when she realized what had happened.
Mena survived her own stabbing and charges were brought against her. She was sentenced to life in prison. It never went to jury so some information was never leaked, like that she was my sister. My father never found out, and everyone who did know had sworn to secrecy. It would only hurt him, and he seemed happy with Beth. Even though my own relationship would never be repaired with him, this was one way I was helping him, in my own way.
It was exactly one year ago that I found Grace’s killer. This was the first day I would speak to her again.
The visiting area was cold and impersonal.
Sitting in that seat, waiting for the guard to let Mena through, was surreal. Sitting here now, waiting to talk to her through a wall of glass and a phone between us for our conversation, I couldn’t help but ask myself why I was there. She took away so many people in my life. During the trial, I listened to every detail and every day, I got sick afterwards.
She had sought Marcus out. They bonded over their love for me and she was the one who molded him into a killer. She insisted they had to protect me. Everything was because of her. Marcus, though he had his own share of crazy, had been swept up in her delusional world.
I killed him, and I couldn’t help to think if I ever would’ve done that if she hadn’t entered his life? His blood was on my hands. Thinking about it now, I stared straight ahead and my hands curled into my lap, tugging on my sleeves. I gritted my teeth. It was her fault. All of it.
Then I heard a buzzing sound and a far door opened.
Mena was led inside wearing a bright orange jumper. The guard undid her chains and she walked to me, smiling.
I tugged harder on my sleeves. Damn. Even now, even after I had testified against her and shared everything she told me, everything she had done to me, she didn’t hate me. There was love shining back from her eyes.
As she took her seat, she placed a hand to the glass wall and spread her fingers.
The usual response would be to place mine on the other side.
I still didn’t even know if I wanted to talk to her, much less that response.
Coming to see her had been my only thought process. I wasn’t sure how I would react when I actually did see her, but she was here and she was reaching out for me.
My stomach turned over on itself again.
She frowned, pulling her hand away, and indicated to the phone. She picked hers up and waited, still frowning at me, her flawless skin marred from the lines in her forehead.
