Cut Me Free (19 page)

“Where the self-defense instructor will understand what she's been through?” Cam frowns. “You going to explain her scars to anyone else?”

“Never.” It comes out so fast and hard that it hurts when my teeth clamp shut after.

“Exactly.” He leans forward. “If you won't let me help you, don't stop me from helping her.”

My head falls forward, and I hate that he's right. It takes a full minute for me to find the ability to say it out loud. “Fine.”

I turn toward him and wait until I have his full attention. “You need to know, nothing has changed. We will both come to you for lessons. Nothing else.”

Cam's triumphant expression falters a little. “Charlotte—”

“No. It's a deal breaker. Remember those? The last one you forced on me ruined everything.” My words come out more bitter than I intend, but I don't care.

“It did no—”

“Do you agree or not?” I get to my feet and wait. “That's all I need to know.”

“Yes.” He stands up and dusts off his jeans.

I nod and walk back up the stairs without another word. As the door is about to close behind me I hear him finish.

“For now.”

*   *   *

Cam lowers his hands and rises out of a defensive position. I don't know how long he's been staring at me like that.

“What are you doing?” I drop my stance and roll my shoulders back, trying to relieve the boulder-size knot at the base of my neck.

“No. What are
you
doing?”

I shake my head. “I don't understand.”

“Either you aren't paying any attention, or I'm not as good a teacher as I thought.” He grabs his towel off the wall and turns with a grin. “And I know it isn't the second.”

“I'm tired.” Taking a drink from my water bottle, I glance over at Sanda. She's kicking and punching the bag in the corner like her life depends on it.

I can only hope it doesn't.

I've spent the last couple of nights trying to figure out who sent me the box. I've decided to stay and fight for a real life, but it's hard to fight back if you don't know your enemy. A shiver runs down my spine from thinking about it. Cam said it wasn't him. It could be Lily, but why? She must've told Gino about Sanda, what else did she tell him? Could they be trying to scare me? I ponder the message in the lid,
I know your secret
. That doesn't make much sense with Lily either. What little she knows about me isn't threatening. But besides Lily and Cam, who would call me Piper?

He taps on the bottom of my bottle until my eyes return to him. The smile is gone. “I've seen you tired. Come on. This is more than that.”

I take my time with the drink, trying to come up with the right response. When I notice the water sloshing in my bottle because my hand won't stop shaking, I bring it down.

Denial. Always a solid option. “I don't know what you mean.”

He lowers his chin and waits, obviously not buying it. “Yeah, right. You can talk to me. You can't want to do this by yourse—”

“Remember our deal.”

He growls through gritted teeth, “You certainly won't let me forget.”

I drop back into my stance and wait, refusing to be baited.

Cam follows my lead, but I can see from the muscle twitching in his cheek that he doesn't like this one bit. Too bad. He dives for my arm, but I'm out of reach in plenty of time. I come close to stomp on his foot, but he reaches around me from behind so I throw my weight into my elbow and hurl it toward his stomach as hard as I can. Seeing it coming, he releases me and jumps back before it lands.

Sweat runs down my neck, but I continue with a vengeance. This is the perfect outlet for my frustration and anger. If I don't look in Cam's eyes, I can pretend he's someone else. Someone who wants to hurt me and hurt Sanda. There is no way I'm going to let that happen.

By the time we finish I'm so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. We hurry out, ignoring Cam's request to let him walk us home. Between the last few nights of disjointed, nightmare-filled sleep and the extensive workout Cam just put me through, it takes all my energy to keep placing one foot in front of the other. Sanda walks as silent as a ghost behind me up the stairs. When we reach the landing, she grabs my hand and jerks me down toward her.

“What happened to our door?” When I see the fear in her eyes, my pulse races.

“What?” My eyes whip up. Long scratches have taken off paint along the side of the door around the lock. Some of the wood is chipped and cracked and the locks themselves are banged up.

Only one word escapes my lips.

“No.”

 

20

Adrenaline pounds through my veins. I'm more awake than I've felt in days, but I take a deep breath and stay calm for Sanda. “I'm going to take you down to play with Rachel for a few minutes while I check this out, okay?”

Sanda nods, but her eyes are glued to the scratches on the door.

“Come on. Everything will be okay.”

Her fingers squeeze mine. “I want to stay with you, Charlotte.”

I draw her into a tight hug. “You will. It will only be a few minutes. I promise.”

It seems to take forever to explain the situation to Janice.

“Oh, dear,” Janice says. Her hand flutters back and forth before she places it on her chest. “You think someone broke in?”

“It looks like someone tried to, but I don't think they got inside. Have you seen anyone today?”

“No. We went school shopping for Rachel and just got home.” Janice picks up a phone off the table. “Do you want me to call someone?”

“No,” I say a little too quickly, and then cover it with a smile. “Like I said, I don't think they got inside. At best, they dinged up my door a little. Not worth bothering anyone about.”

She inclines her head but seems troubled. I'm not sure if she meant Cam or the police, but I'm thinking Cam. From what I know about her history, Janice probably doesn't want to draw any more attention to herself than I do.

I look over and see Rachel showing Sanda some new school outfits, but Sanda's eyes are on me.

“Thanks. I'll be quick.” I stare straight at Janice and whisper, “Lock the locks, just in case.” And I don't move until she gives me a firm nod.

I walk up the stairs and pull out my keys, gripping them tight in my palm so they make little noise. The air feels colder up here. Unlocking each one quietly is agonizingly slow. For the first time ever, I wish there were fewer locks. Finally, the door swings open wide and I leave it that way.

If I scream this time, I want to be certain someone will hear me.

Moving into the room, I plaster my body against the wall to the left and slide along it toward the nearest shelf. Gripping a metal bookend tight in one hand, I take a deep breath as I wait for my eyes to adjust. As soon as I can see clearly, I move around the living room with swift fluidity, but find no one.

My step is soft and silent as I move, straining to hear any noise in the rooms around me. In my mind, I repeat pieces of Nana's poem.

It will rise in perfect light … It will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

The street outside seems louder in the quiet. I hear nothing else. I check behind the couch, in the coat closet, and make my way down the hall to my bedroom. Then I see it. The window on the door to the fire escape is broken—still only two locks. I curse under my breath. With everything else going on, I'd forgotten to add more that couldn't be reached through the window.

Someone found it. My weakest point.

Run.

I tell Sam to be quiet and this time he listens. No sound comes from the bedroom. Each breath seems so loud in my head, but I know it isn't. Stealth is my ally. When I get to the end of the hall, I place my back against the wall. Drawing in a deep breath, I brace myself for what I might find and raise the bookend like a weapon.

When I peek around the corner and see no one, I release a breath. I check under the bed and in the closet. The Piper-Puppet's eyes reflect moonlight back at me like silver pools in the blackness, but there is no one else. I am alone. Whoever broke the window must be gone. Maybe they never even came in. Nothing obvious is out of place.

I walk back down the hallway and flip on the light switches. As I'm almost to the door, I see it, and the air locks up inside my chest. In the middle of the kitchen table sits another black box. Exactly like the one I'd thrown out a few nights before. I gasp and my knees go weak.

They did come in. Someone has been here, in my apartment, in the only place I've ever felt safe.

Holding my breath, I inch closer to the table until I can see the name
Piper
printed on the fresh card on top.

“No,” I whisper, backing away until I crumple onto the sofa across the room. “Not here.”

The couch cradles me as I close my eyes and press my palms against my ears. I need a moment. Only one—to pretend that the new life I worked so hard for, killed for, isn't unraveling with me in it.

It is silent, both in my apartment and in my head. I hear nothing but the sounds of me. My breathing. My heart beating. Even the city quiets. I am endlessly alone. It reminds me of unbearable pain and unwept tears. It reminds me of the attic, when Sam was gone.

Of things I never want to go back to again.

Someone knows my old name and was determined enough to break into my apartment to leave this. It wasn't Lily. It makes no sense. I quit and I'm avoiding Cam as much as possible. I'm not her problem anymore. This is an enemy, and one that won't give up easily.

My instincts tell me to run. Every hair on my body stands on end, like they're trying to escape even while I sit still. My stomach rolls over and over. What if the danger follows me everywhere I go? What if I'm the reason Sanda is at risk? Like Sam, it's always the people around me who aren't safe. Always because of me.

No. I've already made this decision, and I refuse to be ruled by fear. Not anymore, this time I will not run.

My eyes fly open and I see the dreaded box still unopened on the table. It's sitting, waiting. I stand and walk to it.

With shaking hands, I lift the box and remove the lid. A fresh, fully bloomed rose lies inside, and the deep red petals become pools of blood in my mind again, making my stomach turn. I want so badly to close my eyes, but I remember everything I went through to get here—the beatings and the pain. Through the burns and cuts, the bruises and broken bones, so many times I had to be brave for Sam.

This time, I need to be brave for me, for me and the girl I'm trying so hard to save.

I inspect the box with trembling fingers. There, scratched out in the black silk inside the lid are three new words that explain everything that has gone so sickeningly wrong with the life I'm trying to build.

*   *   *

The next day, Janice and Rachel have more school shopping to do. Since Sanda is now registered for her first day of school next week, they had invited her to go with them. I want to be there with her, but I need to fix the window and take care of the locks on the fire escape first.

My mind hasn't stopped thinking through the message in the lid since last night. The implications make me physically ill. The Father's sneer as he said similar words hovers like a tattoo on the inside of my eyelids. Every time I blink he is there—a tormentor when he should've been my protector.

I don't want to believe he is alive. Simply thinking he might be makes me want to crawl under my blankets and cower in the cover of darkness. Even if he survived, could he have found me here? I shiver and shake my head. It has to be someone else, but who?

The Father said I could never be safe from him. Is that what the message means? Is it a warning or a threat? Could it be from someone else?

But it said Piper.

Sam thinks the Father has come back. The Father knew I called myself Piper, I'd been punished for it. If Sam is right—if he survived—then that man is impossible to kill. I certainly tried. Pushing aside the grim notion, I consider Brothers. He knows I'm here in the city and so, if he somehow survived the burns, he makes the most sense, but how would he know to call me Piper?

“Are you sure you want me to go?” Sanda tugs my hand, jerking me free of the troubling thoughts. Neither of us slept well, even after I'd pushed every piece of furniture in the living room against the fire escape door. She's too smart not to know something is wrong no matter how many times I assure her otherwise. I kneel before her.

“Yes. I'm going to be here doing boring stuff.” Smiling, I touch the ends of her straight black hair. “Installing new locks. Making sure no one can hurt us.”

Sanda's eyes fill with tears that don't quite spill over as she takes a shaky breath. Her whisper breaks me inside. “I knew we weren't safe.”