Lost Boy

A cell ringing fills the room. “Fuck,” Stephan growls. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he sneers at the name flashing up. Charlotte.

“You ruined my plans tonight,” he informs me, muting the call.

I snigger, a deranged laugh. I’m descending into madness. “Did you have a date?”

“With Charlotte actually,” he taunts.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” I sneer, all humor fleeing.

“Charlotte’s a whore. You’re better than her, Lizzy. Will be better without her.” He goes to his dresser and pulls out a drawer, looking inside. “As soon as she thought I was interested in you, she was all over me. She needs a man’s attention—daddy issues.” A hook tilts his lips as he winks over at me, completely disconnected from reality. “Am I right?”

I drop my eyes. The color drains from my face as he pulls a blade out from the dresser. “Charlotte is complicated,” I defend.

Jerking his head up and down, he points over to me with the knife. “It helped me. I kinda get these confused feelings around you.”

He doesn’t have feelings. He’s cold. Dead inside. Just like Willis. “Thought it may help me feel close to you in some fucked up way. You know, the whole can’t fuck your sister, so get close to her best friend thing.”

“You’re disgusting.” It’s crazy to antagonize a psycho with a knife, but his words make me feel ill.

“Fair statement. It was a low point, I’ll admit.”

Breathing heavy, I ask, “What do you want from me?”

He bends, holstering the knife to a strap on his leg. “I want you to admit who you really are.”

“And then what?” I demand, forcing myself to fight the dizziness, to remain present.

“The world is our oyster.” He holds out his hands in a dramatic gesture. Did he really think I’d just be like him and want to go around the world murdering innocent people in Willis’s name?

“The police are looking for you,” I remind him.

Tutting and wagging his finger, he asks, “Are they? I think they don’t have a clue who is doing this. Maybe a tip about who your new neighbor really is will help clear that up for them.”

My back straightens, anger boiling. “No,” I bark.

“Why?” He leans forward, an amused glint in his eyes. “It’s perfect. He shows up after being kidnapped by a serial killer over a decade ago right when the killings began. It’s kismet.”

I’d never let Jack go down for this. I’ve failed him so many times—never again. Desolation cloaks me in a mist of regret. How could I think he was capable of hurting those women?

Ringing from his phone begins again. Irritation flares his nostrils. “Fucking Charlotte. She has to go, I’m afraid. I’ve been fantasizing about cutting into her pretty fucking face.”

Leaping forward, I snatch his cell phone from him and dart for the door crashing through it almost toppling over the banister on the small landing, I click the answer icon. “It’s Stephan!” I scream into it racing down the first couple of steps before a boot lands against my spine, launching me forward, hurtling me down the entire flight of stairs. The phone flies from my hand as my body flops like a rag doll, hitting the steps and tumbling. My knee screams in pain. My head cracks against the hardwood floor when I reach the bottom. Everything warps. A loud buzzing deafens my ears. Stephan’s silhouette fades in and out of my vision as he descends the stairs at a leisurely pace.

Tsking, he says, “This is really disappointing, Lizzy. I’ve tried so hard with you—enrolling in your class, taking those stupid assignments just to get the conversation started, to plant the seed, and now look where we are.” His words sound distant, distorted to my ears.

A hard thud hits my stomach, knocking the air from my lungs. “What am I going to do with you?”

Another hit, and the world fades as my body sags. I fight to keep my eyes from closing, but it’s too late.ThirtyPain emanates throughout my entire body. Lifting my head sends a wave of nausea through me. I jolt when I realize my arms won’t move. Anxiety hitches my breath, and my eyes spring wide open. Ropes bind my wrists to the arms of a desk chair, my legs tied at the ankles. “Stephan,” I cry out, “what are you doing?” Hot, salty tears scald the corners of my eyes. “Shhh, we have company,” Stephan whispers from behind me. A cold press of a knife against my cheek warns me it’s not a request.

The silence is deafening. My ears strain to hear any noise or movement. Adrenaline and fear spike at a sound of clicking, then soft thuds. “Breaking and entering is a crime, right?” Stephan whispers across my cheek, sending a shudder down my neck. Squeaking of the front door opening floods me with a sense of relief and terror. Who is it? Can they even help, or will they end up another victim? Stephan’s blade moves down to my neck, skimming the skin.