Blind Date(71)

A strangled sob climbs up my throat and escapes. Jacob. Sweet, kind Jacob. This has to be a joke. It has to be.

"I will say," he continues, as if he's having a general conversation with just anyone, "I didn't think I'd involve myself, let my face be shown, until you. I tormented those other girls, by doing very similar things to you, but I never became a part of their lives. I watched you for so long, and I knew you were going to change the rules, there was just something about you-so stubborn, so strong. I needed to challenge myself, to make the stakes higher. At first I didn't know how to get close to you, but when I saw you on that dating website, I knew what I had to do."

Taylor makes a pained sound, and I know what she's thinking.

She's thinking this is her fault. But it isn't. He said he's been watching me, which means he would have found a way to get to me, no matter what.

"Do you want to know the first place I saw you?" he says, rocking back on his heels, keeping that machete close to his body. "It was one of those support groups. I found the other girls at those, too. Easy pickings. I noticed you right away, and I knew you were different. You want to know how?"

I don't.

I don't.

"You rolled your eyes," he chuckles. "You rolled your eyes when someone said something-oh, I can't remember what it was, but all I could think was, she's the one. Even in her time of grief, when her face is so empty because she's so hurt, she's got an edge. I needed a challenge. You became my challenge."

My vision blurs, and my head pounds.

"I knew you were never going to be the same. You simply couldn't be."

I can't speak. I cannot speak.

"Of course I imagined the final kill, when I carve a bowtie into your neck. You'd be my trophy, my greatest achievement. Mommy would be so proud. She'd be so proud of me."

What the hell?

I glance at him and he's staring blankly at the wall. Mommy? What does his mother have to do with this? Did she torment him as a child? Did she drag out his suffering? Why a bowtie? So many questions flood my mind, but are quickly replaced with horror when I realize how close he was all along.

He was right there.

"Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself," he continues, breaking himself out of whatever twisted memory was playing in his head. "I'm quite looking forward to listening to you beg for your life. And you will beg, Hartley. I will kill you knowing I'm the man that broke you." 

"No you won't!"

Taylor's voice whips through the air and my head spins just in time to see her lunge at Jacob. In his storytelling and his focus on me, he'd forgotten all about her. She hits him hard and both of them tumble backwards. For a moment, I am frozen in shock, but then I move, as quickly as I can, pushing past the pain and the horror. Taylor lands on top of Jacob and they roll for a few seconds, all the while she's slamming her cuffed hands down over and over onto his face.

Jacob raises the machete, and drives it into her leg.

Blood pours to the surface as Taylor's screams fill the room. He pulls it out and raises it again, aiming higher this time-for her throat.

He's going to kill her.

No.

This is my opportunity. Taylor gave me an opening, and I'm going to take it. With all my might, I lunge forward. I hit Jacob in the back and he stumbles forward, the machete flying from his hand and skittering across the room. He spins around as I raise my cuffed hands, and I hit him as hard as I can across the face. A loud crunch feels the room, and warm blood splatters over me as his nose starts bleeding. Then I move quickly, going for the machete.

I shuffle towards it, but he's quicker and lunges forward, his hand curling around into my hair and jerking me backwards. I lose my footing and land with a thud. I roll to my back just as he's leaning down to lift me up. I shove my legs into his body, sending him across the room again with the force of my kick. I'm panting as I push to my feet. He makes a pained sound, and I glance at the door. I have to move.

So I stand and I hop. I hop as fast as I can towards the stairs, and then I use my cuffed hands to hold the railing and I hop with all my might, step by step, up into the house. I hop down the hall, my body aching, my lungs screaming from exertion. I reach the kitchen, eyes darting around. It takes Jacob a few minutes to get to his feet, but he makes it out into the kitchen just as I start shuffling through the drawers.

He stops and stares at me, machete in his hand, grin on his bloodied face.

"You didn't think you were going to get away that easily, did you?"





TWENTY-FIVE

Ace

I can't believe it's Jacob. When I heard his name, I didn't want to believe it. When I looked at the picture, I still didn't want to believe it. Even when he pulled his mask off, I found it hard to believe. But no matter how I try to deny it, the truth is right in front of me. All along it has been right in front of me. Fucking right there.