Fulfillment(134)
He put both hands on the bench and smiled at me with a grin so malicious it was revolting. “Just the person I was hoping to see,” he explained in a tone laced with satisfaction. I noticed him clench his right hand and rub his thumb over whatever he was holding.
Alarm bells were sounding internally as my eyes automatically scouted the kitchen, noting that all the burner knobs on the stove were turned on with no flame, the oven door also wide open.
“How did you get in here?”
“I have a code,” he said cockily.
“That’s strange...we just changed the codes after the elevator malfunctioned.”
He scoffed. “Why do you think the elevator malfunctioned? Lucy is not the only one in the family that is good with computers.”
The pit of my stomach dropped, but I forced myself to remain calm. “Oh...so...what can I do for you? Do you want to go and sit in the lounge or in Bryce’s office?” Get out of this kitchen, Alexis.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” he said calmly, still displaying his evil smile.
“No, Gareth. Why would I think you’re stupid?” I playfully laughed.
“You’re fucking doing it again,” he screamed at me, making me jump.
Tears stung me eyes as my fear hit a newfound heightened level. I began to tremble. “What? What am I doing?”
He pointed his hand at me, revealing that what he was holding was a lighter. “You’re fucking treating me like a fool. Gareth is a fucking fool, not me.”
“Scott? Oh, I’m sorry Scott. No, you’re not a fool,” I sobbed.
“Ahhh,” he laughed sadistically, “So now you understand. Now you want to be honest with me.”
“I have been honest,” I pleaded with him.
“Fucking bullshit,” he spat back.
He took a step back toward the stove, leaning over and checking the knobs. I wanted to run out of the kitchen but my legs were weighted heavily to the ground, riddled with fear and unfortunately forcing me to stay put.
Reasoning with him was my only option. “Scott, talk to me. Tell me what you want.”
“I want you dead,” he replied flatly.
Those words and the manner in which he said them sent a chill through my body so terrifying, that I nearly passed out.
“I don’t understand, why do you want me dead?” I asked, now crying.
He stepped toward the island bench, hatred and pain rolling off him in waves. “Because he fucking loves you, that’s why!”
“And you love him, don’t you?” I stuttered.
He closed his eyes for the slightest of seconds. “Yes.”
“So why do you want to hurt him by killing me? Surely you know that if you kill me, it will kill him.”
“He’ll get over you,” he said quickly, while grabbing the bridge of his nose. “It’s me who he will mourn the most.”
Stupidly, I opened my mouth again. “Why would he mourn you, Scott?” I asked, confused and not understanding why he would mourn Scott if I were the one dead.
His eyes shot up and locked on mine, pure loathing coursing out of them and cutting right through me like a knife. Shit! I didn’t mean it like that. Shut up, Alexis, just shut up. No, keep talking, it’s buying you time.
“Because when I fucking kill us both, he will be devastated.”
Oh, God. He’s completely lost control.
“Scott, you don’t have to do this—”
“Yes, I do. If I can’t have him, neither will you.”
“But Scott, I’m pregnant with his child,” I pleaded.
“It didn’t matter last time and it won’t matter this time,” he said, as he laughed to himself in a manner that suggested he was disappointed. “I should’ve fucking pushed you harder, or better still, tossed you over the railing.” He let out long-winded breath. “That doesn’t matter, though; I will not make the same mistake twice.”
My knees went weak and my body trembled profusely. I’d subconsciously known he was to blame for my fall all along, but hearing it aloud horrified me beyond belief, causing bile to rise in my throat and the sudden urge to vomit wash over me.
He started tapping the lighter on the bench, tauntingly, forcing me to watch it slowly and take in its every detail.
Hearing the tap of the plastic hitting the bench top over and over momentarily removed my mind from the present torture, and an idea materialized in my head, an idea that could quite possibly buy me more time and inevitably make Bryce aware of my current situation.
“Scott, why don’t you ring him, talk to him?”
He stopped tapping the lighter. “I would like to hear his voice again—just one more time.”