Page 66 of Little Hearts

Something came flying at them. Her father. He tackled Andrew and the two of them tumbled onto the floor beside her.

“Aggie. Run.”

Run? She could barely remain awake, let alone move, let alone run.

“Aggie. Go. Now.”

Every movement sent pain jolting from her head to her feet, but using her good arm, she awkwardly managed to get to her feet. Without looking back, she ran, or stumbled would be a more accurate word, out of the cabin. The dark was her friend, it would hide her from Andrew when he came after her. In an attempt to minimize her pain and blood loss, she used her good arm to press her limp one against her stomach and ran.

* * * * *

11:41 P.M.

Emily hardly dared to breathe.

Running wasn't an option for her. She was simply too weak. The water and apple had helped but nowhere near enough for her to have enough strength to brave the dark woods.

So she had no option but to hide. To hope that Andrew thought she had run and didn’t come looking for her. Then once he went off to search outside, she would get in the car and drive to safety.

She had thought that she was ready to die. That she was ready to leave this hell that her life had become and pass on. When she had been lying on the cold, hard bottom of the pool with Andrew standing over her, holding the knife above his head, she had welcomed death. When she had been given a reprieve it felt like the Universe was torturing her, deliberately drawing out her suffering as punishment for something,

Punishment for what she had done to her husband.

What she had told Aggie was true. Andrew had seduced her, ignored all her protestations, been relentless in pressuring her to sleep with him, and then one night it was like he cast a spell on her and before she knew what was happening, she was lying naked in bed beside him after sex.

She’d been so mortified, so humiliated, so guilty, she hadn’t known how to explain to her husband what had happened. She didn’t know how to make him understand that she didn’t love Andrew, she didn’t even care about him. And yet she couldn’t keep it secret. Sebastian would have known she was keeping something from him every time he looked her in the eye. So, she’d had no choice but to file for divorce. Emily had known that she would be vulnerable to Andrew as long as she remained in that house. Susceptible to him. That when he came knocking at her door again, she would end up right back beside him in bed.

Emily had truly loved her husband. The almost twenty-five-year age gap had never bothered her, and Sebastian had kept both his looks and his body. He was good to her, he loved her implicitly, he was good in bed, he had plenty of money to take care of her, and more than that, hewantedto take care of her. She felt safe with him, he would never do anything to hurt her, and yet what she had done would have hurt him so deeply if he had found out. So she’d let him go.

Sebastian hadn’t wanted to let her go. He had contested the divorce. He had come around to see her several times, always wanting the same thing. Answers. He wanted to understand what made her leave him. She was the third wife to ask him for a divorce and he didn’t know why. He thought he was doing something wrong. That he wasn't a good husband. She had known without Andrew having to tell her that he had done the same thing with his other stepmothers as he had done to her.

Well now the truth was out but it was too late.

Andrew was going to kill them all.

She had felt weak and pathetic running and hiding like a coward instead of trying to help Aggie. But shewasweak right now, and terrified, and so she had run, hiding in a kitchen cupboard and praying that he wouldn’t find her.

At the sound of Aggie’s screams, she had almost climbed out, but fear and helplessness had held her back. The screams were so primal, so full of agony that Emily had wept—pressing her hands to her ears to try and block them out and hating herself for letting her own terror make her a coward.

“Hiya, Emily.”

The cupboard door was thrown open and Andrew stood there. There was blood on his face and on his clothes, his knife was in his hand, and that malevolent smile that she hated was firmly fixed on his face.

“You know I'd love to have one last romp in the hay, but unfortunately I'm pushed for time. That brat of a sister of mine went running off, now I have to go traipsing through the woods in the middle of the night to find her. So, it’s going to have to be a stab and go, I'm afraid.”

Reaching down, he wrapped a hand around her wrist, jerked her to her feet, then tossed her to the floor. Without a pause, he arced the knife high over his head and brought it swinging down, piercing her abdomen.

The screams of agony that had haunted her just minutes ago she now echoed as excruciating pain tore her apart.The pain was so complete there wasn't a single part of her body left unaffected.

She couldn’t think, couldn’t hear, couldn’t see, could barely breathe.

She prayed death came quickly.

Andrew said something, she knew because she could see his lips moving through the haze her vision had become, but his voice was nothing more than a blur of indecipherable sound.

When darkness knocked at the corners of her mind, she didn’t keep the door closed. Instead, she flung it open. Welcoming it in.

She wanted death.

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