Page 17 of Love Corrupted
“If I did?” he taunted.
I swallowed and bit my tongue. My amoral kidnapper had taken another girl, who I knew wasn’t going to have a graceful death, and all I could worry about was whether he’d touched her in an intimate way.
No, Katie, you’re not screwed up at all. This is perfectly normal for a twenty-three year old girl. Everyone in love wants to commit murder out of jealousy.
“Jesus, Katie. Would you like me to tattoo your name across my cock? Would that prove I don’t want anyone else?” By the end of his ridiculous statement, he’d grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me around to face him.
“What are you going to do with her?”
He shook his head at me, acknowledging my swift subject change. “I’m not going to do anything. I told you to handle it, and that’s how it’s going to go.” Shooting a glance over my shoulder, he dropped his hands and stepped back into the hallway.
“You have one hour.”
What?
I opened my mouth to object, but the door was already slamming in my face.
How long had it been? Twenty minutes? Ten? What happened if Mason came back and Macy was still alive?
He could hurt Annie…
And why would that be a bad thing?
I groaned in frustration and leaned my head back against a lower cabinet. I’d moved across the room so that Macy was directly in front of me. I didn’t feel any way particular about my predicament.
I was waiting to feel the anguish from what I assumed needed to be done, but I just felt…blank. Pushing off the floor, I approached the chair and studied Macy’s face.
Clumps of mascara were smeared on her cheeks, and a decent sized bruise was on the side of her neck.
“Should I take the gag off?” I asked myself.
No—then, she’ll never shut up.
Good point; she was already trying to tell me something, but I bypassed her to look around the room. The door was locked, and there weren’t any shiny tools like the other rooms had—so what was I supposed to do?
The cabinets were the last place I checked. Standing from the plush sofa I had dramatically sat down on, I made a beeline across the stone floor to the cabinetry. On the bottom shelf in the right hand corner was a white bottle with a picture of a grill on it.
Lighter fluid.
Beside the bottle was a small book of matches. He couldn’t really expect me to light this girl on fire? But, of course he did. Was it considered giving up if I didn’t do it? I’m sure Mason would twist it that way. He was adroit at twisting words.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I inhaled a deep breath and then slowly let it out.
If I didn’t do it, someone else would, right? Then, I would have forfeited for nothing. Mason may not let me be after I went home, but at least I’dbehome. I could tell myself I cared what happened to Annie, and not lay awake wondering aboutwhat ifs.
Mind made up, I quickly unscrewed the little red cap from the lighter fluid before turning to face Macy again. Her doe brown eyes bulged at the sight of it.
“Um…” I licked my lips, trying to find the right choice of words. How did I nicely explain that I was going to light her on fire?
Why bother? She never gave you the same respect.
“Okay,” I hyped myself one last time and squeezed the bottle, aiming the stream of fluid in Macy’s direction. She squealed, but was helpless to defend herself. Just like the chair in Mason’s house, the straps around her wrists were embedded in her flesh.
Another wrapped around her forehead, giving her limited mobility when she tried to turn her neck. I scrunched my nose up at the potent smell that rose in the air. I squirted the liquid until the bottle became virtually weightless, soaking her black shirt, hair, and denims.
Sitting the container on the stone floor, I wiped my sweaty palms on the fabric of my summer dress, and then retrieved the matches. I looked back at Macy and felt nothing but pity. She was whimpering loudly, her limbs trembling violently.
All the times she’d called me a freak and claimed I would always be alone surfaced in my brain.
