Page 70 of Where Love Lies

“Of course you did,” he states, standing straight. “Sorry I’m not wearing my Sunday best but I’ve been living out of my truck because of you.” He walks to Rhodes first, putting his hand on the table, and scowls. The emotion locks his features into place like he was born with that look, every smile, joke, and laughter I’ve known from him merely a façade.

“You know this one’s a whore, right?”

What the hell does he mean? I never cheated on him. I loved him!

Pissed at his accusation, I mumble behind my tape, catching his attention. “Don’t worry, princess, I have something for you.” His promise laced in poison, I still.

“You know, Rhodes, I blamed you for everything. Crazy right?” He starts toward the kitchen, both Rhodes and I left with nothing to do but watch.

“I thought she wanted you instead of me, that you had something I didn’t,” he continues to explain. “But then I realized!” He turns on his heel, a crooked grin gracing his face despite the disgusting words he’s saying. “She’s a whore…like her mother.”

Wait what? My mother? Instinctively, I turn to look at the urn, my mother was a lot of things, but not a whore, so I don’t know what he’s getting at with that insult.

“Oh, don’t worry, Rain, Mommy gets to be here with us while I…well, kill you.” His head turns to the side, the darkness from the room shadowing his jawline ominously. Taking a plain white candle from the counter and leaving behind probably twenty more, he brings it up to his face and looks into the dancing flame. He’s mesmerized by it, as if the devil has reunited with his everlasting love.

“You know, when I was a kid, there was this bad winter, one unlike any other in Carolina. My mother and I were freezing. I even got sick. My skin was chilled to the bone, and I couldn’t tell if the blue hue on my toes were just veins or frostbite. My father went to the market and stood in line for three hours, making sure he’d be the first to get inside for a kerosene heater. Later that night, when we were snuggled in our bed, I woke to the fire alarms going off and the lick of a flame burning my leg. I remember kicking the blanket, crying from the feeling of my skin melting off. My mother rushed in and saved me, carrying me out of the house. I screamed for my father, who was left inside, demanding someone go back in…only to find out that he wasn’t home.” Heston’s glossy eyes slowly look to me. “He was out with another woman. He cheated on my mother and me and because of his indiscretions, I almost died.” I don’t understand what he’s saying, and my head throbs trying to figure it out.

“So, as you can see, I have a disdain about cheaters.” He slowly puts the candle back down and scratches the back of his head, walking back to the table Rhodes and me are at. Leaning down, his face inches from mine, he whispers, “Your mother killed my father.”

I don’t understand. Piercing irises stab into me. “Your whore of a mother killed my father!” he repeats. “The day I almost died, and the day he did die, he was with the same woman. Your mother!”

Suddenly everything comes together. The man my mother was dating, the guy she was with when she had her wreck and died was Heston’s cheating father.

“DING DING DING!” he yells, pointing at me. “I think she finally gets it, Rhodes.”

“My mother didn’t do anything wrong. She did everything for him, and it still wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough!” He slaps his chest. “If you can take my father, my lifeline to a family…then I can take yours,” he yell-whispers. Heston scouted me out and hit on me on purpose that day. He played with me like a toy baiting me into his sick vengeance. “I was going to kill you right away, but then I met Paige, and I wanted you both for myself. I longed to have you as my new family, but you had to pull away from me. You just had to.”

Shaking my head, tears falling down my wet cheeks, I look at Rhodes, who is staring right back at me. He doesn’t have to speak a word for me to know he’s telling me not to feed into Heston’s bullshit, but the psycho has been in my head playing mind games with me since the day we met.

“Oh, and your ex-husband had to get in the way of us, too. I couldn’t have him exposing me before I was ready…so I killed him.”

Sadness and anger spark in my chest. I was a fool. I put me and my daughter in danger and now Rhodes, but right now isn’t the time for me to cry about it, I need to fucking do something, anything to save us.

Using my nail, I saw and tear at the duct tape, my wrist pulling against the adhesive to loosen it.

Heston walks into the living room, the filtered light from the candles illuminating his way, so much so that it casts a dark shadow over him, reminding me of the Devil in Stephen King’sStand. Reaching down, he takes a candle and sets it under the curtains. It blackens before finally igniting and zipping up the cloth material. My heart beats faster, my stomach feeling like I’m on a roller coaster, as I watch him start a fire.

He kicks another candle over and topples a few others. The temperature rises, heat blossoming off the carpet and couch. Smoke bellows into my lungs, making me cough and wheeze. I’m going to die here.

“Looks like you took another man to your place, got romantic and put one too many candles out.” He looks at me. “You should have blown these out, you know. They might catch fire.” His condescending tone makes me scream. I start kicking my legs, shifting my body with my movements until I tip over and fall to the ground. I freeze since the fire is only five feet away from my head. Closing my eyes, I try and tell myself I’m not going to die! Heston steps over me, and the sound of skin smacking skin can be heard and then crackling and popping. He’s beating Rhodes, punching him in the face over and over again. Using the floor, I brush my face up and down, my cheek burning from the rug’s abrasive touch, but I manage to get my gag loose.

“STOP! STOP IT!” I scream, my foot kicking the left of the table. The commotion stops; Heston’s stained-up shoe all I can see from this angle.

“Aww, baby. Don’t worry now. Shhhh.” He straddles my body and grabs my cheeks with both of his thumbs, his touch rough and my skin feeling like it might split at any second. He lifts my head, dragging me a foot closer to the fire, and I scream. Panic makes me want to pass out, but I fight it and slam my head into his, headbutting him.

He stills, his hand touching his forehead to check for blood.

“You little bitch!” He raises his hand and slaps me across the face, but the pain is nothing compared to the back of my head. Jerking me upward, he jostles me forward another foot, the smell of burnt hair telling me how close I am to the flame. Closing my eyes, remembering Paige, I try to think about the good times. The times we laughed, the nights my mother and I would stay up and talk, being able to watch Paige grow up. If I’m going to die, I’ll go thinking about all the good things in my life.

Something falls on top of me, thrusting the air from my lungs. My eyes open and Heston is lying on top of me with a dazed look in his eyes, something happened to him. I look around his body to see if Rhodes is up, but he’s still lying on the ground, blood smeared all over him so I know he wasn’t the one that knocked him out.

“You asshole!” Paige screams, kicking Heston’s limp body off me, a wine bottle in her hand covered in blood. She grabs the chair I’m stuck to by the legs and pulls me away from the fire and closer to the dining table, before fussing with the tape.

“Tear along the seam where it’s the thinnest,” I tell her, and she does, releasing my hands. I tear at the tape on my lap, and free my legs. I grab onto Paige and kiss her forehead, hugging her to my chest. I didn’t think I would ever have another chance to do this with her. A small explosion in the living room throws dirt and debris at us, our time growing short. We need to get out of this house.

Grabbing onto Paige’s shoulders, I make her look me in the eye. “Go out front, and do not come back. Do you understand?” I tell her, and she nods. Pulling away from her, I go to Rhodes. His face is bloody, his lip split and his eye bulging. He doesn’t look good.

“Rhodes? Rhodes?” I shake him to see if he’ll respond, but nothing. I slap him, but he doesn’t budge. Shit, I can’t carry him. Glancing down at the bottom of the chair, the legs come into view. I can do what Paige did and slide him along the kitchen floor and outside. Kneeling down, I grab the wooden legs, digging my nails in and jerking Rhodes and the chair. We slide about a foot and I have to stop for a breath, my head painfully pounding with every move. Taking one more breath, I tug with all my might, and we move more than before. I pull him, take a break, and then tug some more. Almost to the door, the sound of sirens makes me nearly fall to my knees in relief. We’re going to be saved; someone is coming to help. The next five minutes, everything happens in slow motion. Men in yellow rush the house, I’m pulled away from Rhodes, and he’s instantly circled by four firemen. I’m taken outside to one of the trucks, as men spray water at my house, trying to put out the fire, and someone asks me my name. In a daze, I stare at the house that is stamped with death, flames rushing from the windows. The roof looks like something straight out of hell. The place where lies are masked by love.

---