Page 91 of False Idols

I go back to Nevaeh and think about saying fuck it. That we should just head to the gate and take our chances that maybe the car is open and the radio isn’t fucked, but I can’t because I know it’s not true. The only way out is through this, The Reaper made sure of it. I look at Nevaeh. Thunder cracks and lightning lights up the sky and her beautiful face is there for me to see clear as day. She’s afraid. Her eyes are scared but she still walks forward towards the house. I don’t care what I have to do. I might not walk out of the house tonight, but neither will The Reaper. Nevaeh will be free when I’m done.

“You ready?” she asks and looks at me. But when she does, I don’t see fear, I see resolve.

“I’m ready,” I tell her and take her hand. We walk into the house together.

35

NEVAEH

Simon is dead. He’s hanging by his neck in front of Beau’s door and I have to walk past him. It takes everything in me not to throw up, but I do it. Beau told me not to look but I couldn’t stop myself. The second he said it, it was like I couldn’t look anywhere but at Simon’s body. The Reaper gutted him like a fish from his belly to his neck. Simon’s lifeless eyes stare off into nothing while he swings by his neck that is bent at an angle far too sharp to be natural. His neck is broken. I don’t know if he did it before or after Simon was dead. I hope whatever was quicker happened first, but I’ve heard The Reaper kill.

There’s nothing quick about the way The Reaper kills. He took his time with Carrie, made sure there wasn’t an inch of her his knife didn’t know. And she was alive for all of it. I hold on to Beau’s hand tighter and we step over the threshold and into the lake house. The second we’re inside, the pounding of the rain dies away. Outside it was so loud that if we weren’t speaking into the other’s ear, we had to yell to hear over the storm’s roar. It’s so quiet inside that I can hear myself breathing, no, not breathing, I’m gasping. I press my hands to my chest because I can hear that too. It’s beating so hard that it makes my ears throb.

Beau looks at me and raises a finger to his lips before he leans in close to me. “We’re going into the kitchen, that’s where the keys are. We’ll go to the garage next.”

I nod and try to force myself to take normal breaths. I watch the stairs while we walk to the kitchen. The water dripping off of us leaves a trail behind us. When we left for our walk, all the lights were off, but someone turned every last one of them on. And, unlike last night, they’ve thrown open all the curtains. No, it isn’t someone. I know who did it. The Reaper turned the lights on and opened the curtains. It wasn’t just them daring us to come inside. They did it to make sure we saw them coming.

My hand shakes in Beau’s and I fight to be brave. Why is this happening to me? I lead a quiet life and all I ever wanted to be was normal. This isn’t normal. We get to the kitchen and Beau opens a drawer as quietly as he can and starts looking for the keys. They aren’t in the first drawer. My heart drops, but Beau holds up a hand signaling that everything is okay and moves onto the drawer beside the first.

There’s nothing in that drawer either, but Beau doesn’t stop looking. He’s on the fifth drawer when I think of something. There are no keys to find. The Reaper took the keys. I bite my lip and look around the kitchen. It looks just the way it did when we had breakfast, our dishes are even still in the sink. But everything is different now. This morning feels like it was years ago. How can The Reaper have come in here and made this place evil? He was here, I know it. He took the keys and he’s waiting for us. I go to the butcher block that holds the kitchen knives and pull the biggest one out before I go to Beau’s side.

“There’s no keys,” I whisper. “He took them.”

Beau’s hands clench on the drawer he’s just opened and he nods. “Yeah, thought that too, but I didn’t want to scare you.”

Tears prick my eyes at his words. Beau was the boy that I never stopped loving, but that was the version of him I knew before prison changed him. When he came out he was a man with nothing but anger and darkness in his heart towards me. How we’ve managed to end up in this place where he wants to protect me leaves me feeling cracked open and vulnerable. So very few people have ever tried to truly take up for me. Sunny, Pastor Mike and now Beau. Few as they are, I’m grateful to have people that have cared for me and asked for nothing in return.

“We’ll find another way,” I tell him.

“If he took the keys the car is out and I’m willing to bet the phone line is cut too.” He nods at the cordless phone on the counter and puts it to his ear with a frown. “It’s dead.”

I grip the knife tighter and point back to the front door. “Okay, so let’s go to the gate. We can just start walking, okay? Even if the car is dead, we can just go.”

“You need shoes.”

Fuck. Right. I’m only wearing one busted sandal. I carried my shoes upstairs and there’s nothing down here for me to wear, but it doesn't matter. I’d rather walk until my feet are bloody and raw then die.

“I’m fine, I swear.”

Beau looks at my feet and shakes his head. I’m not surprised when he says. “I’ll carry you,” Beau decides. I don’t fight him, I just let him pick me up and head for the door while I hold tight to the knife in my hands. Everything is still so quiet in the house. I can hear the storm through the still open front door, but that’s it. We’re almost to the door when we hear a thump above us. Beau freezes and we both look up at the ceiling. A second later there’s another thump, this time louder.

“It’s him,” I whisper. Fear shoots through my entire body and I almost drop the knife. The anger that I felt when I almost chased after The Reaper is gone. I can’t conjure it up. The only thing in my bones is fear at ending up like Simon. Gutted and lifeless, my eyes staring into nothing while the world goes on around me and The Reaper keeps killing.

Beau puts me down and nods at the door. “Go.”

“What? No! I’m not leaving you,” I argue but Beau shakes his head.

“I have to fucking end this. He’s not going to stop coming after you. Never. He’s going to keep coming for you over and over and I’m not letting him take you from me.”

I’m set on arguing with him. Telling him that I’m going to face this evil with him, but he catches my face in one of his hands and grabs my jaw, cutting off the words I was saying, “Beau, I-”

He squeezes my face so hard that it hurts and my eyes water. “I’m the one that says when you die. Me. I’m the one that’s going to fucking kill you if it’s anyone, not that freak upstairs. I own you, I earned you, not him. Never him.” Beau jerks my head back so that I’m forced to look up at him. I recognize the cruel look on his face. His eyes are cold, the man who held me last night, made me pancakes and let me sit by the pool is gone. The version of Beau I know the best and love the most is here now. The one that’s all mine. His soul and heart are dirty, but they’re mine all the same. He’s killed for me before. He’s going to do it again. Tonight.

“You’re not fucking dying here tonight. Do you understand me?”

I nod because I can’t speak, not with the way Beau holds my face. He brings me close to him and presses his mouth to mine in a brutal kiss. I almost drop the knife, but Beau takes it from me before I do and doesn’t break our kiss. He doesn’t let go of me either, but slides his hand down from my jaw to my neck and holds me there. The feel of his rough palm against my throat, that pressure right over where my pulse flutters, calms me. I reach up to hold on to his shoulders, run my hands through his hair and touch every part of him that I can. I pour all my love and longing, the obsession and devotion that I have carried for him for years, I give it all to him. I will him to feel just how much I love him, the depth of my love and adoration. I know he feels it. I feel the emotion coming back from him with how desperate and greedy he is with his kiss. He licks into my mouth and I part my lips for him. Our tongues move together, the breath I take in feels shared with Beau and I’ve never felt more connected to him than I do right now.

Maybe it’s the murderer waiting upstairs for us that has me feeling this way, but maybe it’s something else like fate and love and soulmates. That kind of magic. I’d rather believe in magic and destiny than in a psychopath, so I go with that. When we part, we’re breathless and I almost burst into tears when Beau nudges me towards the door. There’s the sound of a door slamming and the heavy tread of boots overhead. It’s almost time. Beau tries to give me the knife back but I don’t let him. He needs it more than me.

---