Page 74 of Israel

Chapter 28

Ashley came slowly to consciousness. She smelled smoke and lilac, and her arms were cold, gooseflesh standing up on them.

She opened her eyes. She was sitting in a straight wooden chair, bound to it by plastic zip ties at her wrists and ankles. Her hair had been brushed out over her shoulders, and she was wearing a sleeveless dress of satin and taffeta, that rustled when she moved.

Of course, it was the color of lilacs.

The room she sat in was filled with lilac bouquets, interspersed with lit candles in varying shades of pink and purple—on small tables, on a dressing table with a big old-fashioned mirror, on top of the wooden dresser. The only other thing in the room was a huge brass bed with crisp white sheets and a puffy lilac comforter, strewn with more lilacs.

She nearly gagged from the overpowering perfume.

There were mirrors around the room, spreading the candlelight everywhere, but the walls were stained concrete with exposed pipes.

It looked like a post-apocalyptic honeymoon suite.

The back of Ashley’s neck prickled as she heard a movement behind her. There was the click of a firestarter and the crackle of a candle wick catching fire, and then another. She saw a shadow reflected in one of the mirrors across the room.

She felt someone brush the hair back from her shoulders and then she felt a wet, clammy kiss on her neck. Nausea spread through her.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “What do you want from me?”

The man walked around the chair, his hand lingering on her shoulder. It was all she could do not to shrug him off, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good.

He stood in front of her—too close—making her crane her neck to look up at him.

Avery Rodham. Her bus driver. He looked the same as he always had—average looks, a little shy. Unremarkable.

Except for the insane glitter in his eyes.

A smile curled across his face. “We’re finally having our date, Ashley,” he said. “Do you see the beautiful place I created for us?”

She gazed at him. Should she play along and try to get him to let her go? Or tell him what a fucking psycho he was?

She wondered if Israel had woken from the trank darts yet. She knew he would be coming for her. But how would he find her?

“It’s lovely,” she choked out. “How did you know lilac was my favorite?”

She’d never especially liked lilac and now she hated it with a fiery passion, but maybe he was delusional enough to believe her.

“I know you,” he said. “You look perfect,” he added, looking down at her like he’d created her. “You shouldn’t wear those slutty clothes Tiffany picks out. This is much more fitting.”

“You’re right,” she said. “I never liked the clothes Tiffany picked. But the record company told me it was for my image.”

His eyes narrowed. “That’s not true,” he said. “You liked showing yourself off. You let that filthy wolf touch you, and you liked it.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she said. “I thought he loved me.”

He slapped her face, a quick stinging blow that surprised her and brought blood to her cheeks.

“Don’t lie to me. I saw you with him, begging him to do you right out in the open. It made me sick.”

He had been there. But how?

She hung her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so ashamed. I didn’t know you were there, or I would never have hurt you like that.”

“I was there,” he said. “I was there lots of times you didn’t see me. Want to know how?”

She sure as hell did.