Page 76 of Grave Possession

I heave in a deep breath, get back on my feet, and watch as terror overcomes every one of his features. His gun lays abandoned in the dirt beside him as his firing hand tries to hold the split skin of his head together.Idiot. Never abandon your weapon until you know the threat is extinguished.Blood runs down his face, obstructing his view, as he scrambles to find his firearm.

“You shot me! You fucker!” I shout, launching myself at him. Jefferds grunts as I spear my body into his, the gravel scraping and digging into my forearms. Finding his weapon immediately, I toss it under his car, watching it skid through the dirt, and far out of reach. His fist cracksinto my jaw as he blindly flails, trying to land any strikes he can. He’s strong, I’ll give him that, but his fighting is sloppy and panicked. I drop my full weight onto him, forcing the air from his lungs, and draining the fight out of him. As he struggles to gasp in a full breath, I retreat quickly. Buying me the valuable seconds I need to rain down the devastating blows to his skull. The nightstick bashes into his forearms as he attempts to shield his face. The satisfying snap of bone pierces the atmosphere, followed by his wail of agony. Jefferds cradles his arm to his chest instinctively, dropping his defences. His head whips to the side as my blows hit their mark one after the other. The crimson of his blood splatters across the cherry red exterior of his car, matching almost perfectly.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

More cast-off streams down the driver’s side window until there’s nothing left resembling a face. I don’t stop until I’m satisfied Mallory’s secret is safe, and I can’t lift my arm. It’s heavy with the weight of what I’ve just done, hanging lifeless at my side.

A breeze blows through the trees, rustling the leaves, and chilling the hot blood dripping down my face. Sick pride swells within me as his heart ceases to beat. Redemption, raw and primal, flows through me because I saved her. This doesn’t absolve me of the drowning guilt, but now I at least have my head above water.

Chapter Forty-nine

Mallory

Ring…

Ring…

Ring…

“What?” The gruff voice on the other end of the line snaps.

“Bellamy?”

“Why are you calling me, Barbra?”

“This isn’t Barbra, it’s her daughter.” The silence is so absolute, I swear this man has stopped breathing. Dead air hangs between us for so long, I check my phone screen to ensure the call hasn’t dropped. “Hello?”

“How do you have this number, Mallory?”

“I found it.”

“No shit.”

“I’m looking for my parents…who you obviously fucking know,” I retort with some bite. I can be a dick too.

“Do yourself a favour, don’t go looking for people you’re betteroff without.”

“Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?” I can feel his irritation with me mount through the call. Tough shit. I want answers. If this Bellamy asshole knows anything about my parents’ disappearance, I need to know. “Did Dennis or my mother ever mention being followed or harassed by a cop, or anyone else?”

“No,” he snips. “Are they missing?”

“Yeah, they have been for almost a year.”

“Consider yourself lucky, then. Lose this number?—”

“Wait! What the fuck does that mean? You’re the second person to say something cryptic like that to me. I just fucking wish someone would tell me what the hell is going on. I deserve to know…they fucking abandoned me.” I’m completely aware I’m rambling to a stranger, trying to gain an ounce of sympathy from someone who is so detached and cold he’s chilling me to the bone with only a few words.

“SECOND PERSON!?” he exclaims. “Who else have you contacted?” Is that a hint of concern I hear in his voice? No, it can’t be, he doesn’t even know who I am.

“I don’t see how that’s any business of yours.”

“Stay the fuck out of this, Mallory. You’re finally in the clear. Don’t call me again.”

Click.

Well, that was a complete waste of time. I toss my phone onto my bed then go to have a shower. Nox wants me to get a Halloween costume for the Henderson Haunt next weekend. Honestly, I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a rusty screwdriver than be in a crowded place with a bunch of inebriated out-of-towners, but Lennox needs my support so I’ll grin and bear it.

Steaming hot water sluices down my body as my mind floats back to my phone conversation. Why do I have this nagging feeling Bellamy talked like he knew me? Or like he at least knewofme? I scour the murky pits of my mind, but nothing registers. So many people came and went from my old house that all their faces are now a blur. I made a point of not learning the names of Dennis’s friends or “co-workers”. The less I knew, the better. Maybe if I saw Bellamy it would all click together… He has to know something, he knew my name for fuck sakes. I don’t know how I missed that in the moment. I wish I could turn back time and interrogate him about it, but I’m almost certain if I called him again, he wouldn’t answer.

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