I stroke the scar along my hand—a reminder of a promise made long ago. A promise I intend on keeping.
I slip my phone from my pocket and open the app that connects me to the live feed inside the house. I have cameras everywhere in Allison’s life, including in her home. I tell myself it’s to keep an eye on her, to keep her safe and secure. But right now, I’m thoroughly enjoying watching the police ransack their home. Each lamp turned over, pillowcase emptied, and drawer dumped out is one more piece of their picture-perfect facade that crumbles to the ground. My eyes flit back to where Allison sits on the ground, a tear trails down her cheek as she watches the police carry out her laptop and place it in the back of an SUV. The urge to walk across the street and lick the tear from her skin is so strong my fingers flinch.
Unfortunately, right now, I’m forced to simply stand by while my Sleeping Beauty sobs on the sidewalk as the police tear aparther home. Soon enough, I will get to taste every inch of her—her tears, her blood, and her cum. But tonight, I wait. Her body shivers. I can see the slight uptick of her shoulders even from here. Allison is cracking, and beneath the surface lies the beautiful chaos that is the woman I love. She just needs to be unleashed.
There’s a flurry of commotion, voices shouting, heads turning to the door. An officer emerges from the house with an evidence bag held high. Inside is a pair of bloodied underwear and a cellphone. Both belong to a missing woman…I should know, I planted them under Brody’s side of the mattress. Allison’s mouth falls open, her head slowly turns to face the paling figure of her husband. As if in slow motion, I watch as his hand falls, the phone dropping, and his eyes widen in horror.
This is fucking great. I should have brought popcorn to go along with the show.
An officer approaches Brody Clarke with cuffs in his hand. The metal glints in the flashing police lights and I swear I almost get a semi just thinking about the cold bite of that metal around Brody’s wrists. The time has come for this motherfucker to get the justice he deserves. The officer spins my pal Brody around and pulls his arms behind his back. Allison rises to her feet, the blanket pooling on the ground below her, as she watches her husband be cuffed.
Damn, I wish I could get closer so I could hear what’s going on. But I can’t risk it. I can’t be seen here.
The officer leads Brody to the back of a car and places a hand on his head, guiding him to the backseat. Neighbors cover their mouths in shocked expressions as the nice husband from the house next door is driven away in the back of a cop car. They throw pitying looks over their shoulders at Allison. Poor, poor lonely Allison. But no one goes to comfort her. One by one, they filter back into their houses and close their doors. The policeleave too; one by one, getting in their cars and driving off, until the only person left outside is a sad woman all alone.
Well, not all alone, truly. Because I’m always here, always watching and waiting.
She sits outside for a long time, so long that I begin to worry. But eventually, she gathers her blanket and heads inside. I wait a moment to make sure no one is watching, before slipping the mask from the backseat. A single white lilly sits in the back as well. It must have fallen from the bouquet that I left for her earlier. Lilies are her favorite flower. I bet my buddy Brody doesn’t know that. Turning on the glowing red LEDs, I slide the mask over my face and exit the car into the cold night air.
Time to play, Sleeping Beauty.
FIFTEEN
Allison
Isit completely still, staring at the mess around me. Every single item in my home has been touched, moved, dumped, and destroyed. It’s like a tornado ran through my living room and ransacked everything. Black dust sits on surfaces—swirling fingerprints apparent even in the low light of the single lamp I plugged back in and turned on. If this house didn’t feel like much of a home before, it certainly feels like a nightmare now.
I let out a long sigh and step over several discarded throwpillows as I make my way across the room. The worst part is that I’m alone. I should have my husband, my partner, the person who promised to be beside me through it all here next to me to help pick up these pieces. But instead, he’s handcuffed in the back of a police cruiser on his way to the station. I could have followed behind, met him there, waited for him to be released. But I didn’t. I don’t know why I didn’t go.
You’d just be in the way.
Slithering self-doubt whispers across my mind, reminding me that I never have been and never will be truly good enough. Brody’s family has money, connections, power. They’ll have him out in no time. The most I can do is clean up our house so it’s tidy when he gets home. Plus, I have to go into work tomorrow, I can’t request a sub without a laptop and mine was just confiscated as part of an investigation into the disappearance of my coworker.
“Ma’am, we have a warrant to search and seize any property which could be used to help us locate the missing individual,” an officer had informed me when I tried to speak up about needing my work computer.
How will I explain this at work tomorrow? To my principal, my coworkers, my students?
Fuck.
Simmering anxiety turns into full-blown panic. My chest tightens and my fingers curl up into balls, my nails digging into the flesh of my palms. My breathing becomes labored and all I can hear is a ringing as the pressure in my head becomes almost too much. I feel the shriek that leaves my lips as it rips across my vocal cords, but it’s as if it’s someone else—like I’m not even sure it’s me anymore. I don’t register picking up the lamp, not really, not until my arm is already in motion. The pale blue ceramic shatters as it hits the wall. Tiny shards explode, covering the floor below in a layer of jagged, broken pieces. My mother-in-law loved that lamp.
That felt good to destroy it, really fucking good.
Picking up a small glass dish next, I hurl it at a different wall. It lands with an explosive thunk before the glass shatters. Next, a vase of white calla lilies that I don’t recognize. The water and flowers stream down the wall as the glass vase explodes. Again, and again, and again, I grab what I can and just let loose. A feral scream breaks free from my chest as I let go. I break whatever I can—throwing objects, ripping curtains down, even pulling pages out of the fucking coffee table books. An image of my childhood flashes through my mind—cowering, crying, scared. Then a boy with a soft smile and cool blue eyes. I scream harder. I scream for the little girl I once was who just wanted to be loved and for the woman I am now who just wanted her fucking happily ever after. Fueled by fury, I destroy everything I can get my hands on until I’m left panting and exhausted, surrounded by chaos.
I spin and stare at the mess I just made, my panic attack receding with every broken and twisted piece of my home that now lies discarded on the ground. I was supposed to be cleaning up so Brody could come home to a clean house.
If he even bothers to come back here.
The whispering self-doubt creeps in again, setting my nerves on edge. I roll my neck, cracking the joints as I try to ignore the negative little voice in the back of my mind. I haven’t felt this out of control in a very long time. Even my mantra, my grounding reminder of how far I’ve come, isn’t going to cover this up.
Shit.
Stepping over the remainder of the mess, I make my way toward the kitchen. I need water, my throat has been screamed raw. The kitchen is dark, the only light comes from the moonlight streaming in through the window above the sink. The wooden floor is cool beneath my bare feet as I pad across thedark, silent space. Grabbing a glass, I stand at the sink and turn on the tap. The water pours out into my glass and I bring it to my lips, eagerly sucking it down. The cold is soothing as it slides down my throat. I close my eyes and take several deep breaths.
I am not weak. I am in control.
I remind myself of the words over and over again, letting them settle in my soul. I tamp down the rage, the anger, the chaos. Everything will be fine.
