Page 40 of Always
Why do I like that?
The white silk robe she fell asleep in trails behind her as she runs into the bathroom.Idiota. After receiving the deed I received something else- theoriginalblueprints of the mansion. I scrutinized and studied every square inch of this place and its hidden corridors. I run in the opposite direction and straight to John’s old office, hiding in the shadows where sure enough, out pops the wall where the old portrait of the Monroe family once hung. The one painted without me. The one I looked upon while I was covered in John Weston Monroe’s viscera.
Such a sweet… happy little family… weren’t they?
John… Axel… Sofia…
But where was Raven?
Exiled.
Confined.
Every bitter moment I ever spent in Lorne Wood seeps out of the wrinkles of my brain and pours behind my eyelids like a fucking movie.
Drugged.
Beaten.
Psycho Little Raven…
“She can’t talk.”
“She’s faking it!”
“Mute.”
“Freak!”
I fight the ghosts rattling in my brain as I stalk my visibly shivering prey.
“Broken… Little… Doll…”
That’s the one I hated the most. That’s the one that left her lips just recently. I slowly unwrap the rope from around my torso and make a pretty little noose. I wonder if John and Axel are watching now? A creak out in the hallway tells me Jonas is nearby. The door slowly swings open, but there’s nobody there. It adds to her growing paranoia, little whimpers leaving her throat.
I grin to myself beneath the balaclava as Sofia slowly spins, breathing heavily between the soft whimpers but I match her step-for-step, staying behind her as I finish tying the last knot.
She takes in a shuddering breath, seemingly thinking she’s safe.
Awww…. So did I.
I thought I was so, so,sosafe, too.
I throw the noose over her head and yank her back. She screams, landing on her ass and fuck, she’s gotten heavy. But I drag her anyway, relishing in the screams, the smallthudsof her feet landing each kick on the hardwood flooring as I make it into the hallway where Jonas is waiting for me. He grabs the tail end and pulls right along with me, helping me. We get to the grand staircase and Jonas seems to know exactly what I have planned because he ties the end of the rope three times around one of the balusters and I pull her until she’s at my fucking feet.
Grabbing the roots of her hair and lifting with all my might so she’ll stand between me… and the banister.She stands between me… and her death. How very fitting that both of John’s wives will roam these halls, trapped here with him.
Tears and snot stream down her face, over her lips.“Please!”
“I begged for mercy, too.” I seethe. I pull off my mask and hand it to Jonas. Her eyes widen as if she can’t believe it’s me. I would care, probably, but the symphony in my mind is growing… and it feels so fucking good. It sounds beautiful. Haunting. The kind of song you’d imagine playing in a haunted palace as ghosts waltz in the ballroom. It builds, and builds, bouncing in the space between my eardrums like an EMDR therapy light, with bilateral stimulation.
“Was my life’s work not enough for you? Was ruining me not enough?” She asks between struggles.
I pause briefly and contemplate every emotion I ever felt while at Lorne Wood. How during the first two years, I had somehow hoped myincidentwould have brought us closer together. Instead I was left alone. Caged. And angry. So fucking angry.
I’m ready to let it go.
With one short breath and an even shorter decision, I do a half-squat, grab the lapels of her robe, drive down on my heels, and lift her with a grunt. “Vaya con Dios,Mama.”
