It Started With A House: Lizzie. Book 1 (The Westport Mysteries) (28 page)

I couldn’t
imagine my family doing that to Danny and Drew. Even though I knew Dad still
wasn’t one hundred percent okay with Danny’s sexual orientation, he loves him
far too much to see him unhappy. So he puts his personal opinion aside and
accepts him for who he is.

The more I
thought about this, the angrier I became. So much so, I was totally unaware of
the large, bald-headed figure stepping up as I walked between the cars. My
scream was stifled as he put his hand over my mouth and a large, shiny blade to
my throat.

Chapter
Twenty Nine

The
feel of the cold, hard blade against my skin terrified me, so much so I felt
paralyzed. My knees buckled under me. I felt the man pull me up and drag me
towards the waiting car. Still holding the knife to my throat, he unlocked the
car doors with his remote.

“Get in,” he
demanded.

“No, I don’t
want to,” I squeaked, fear sending my voice into the stratosphere. The blade
grazed across my skin and a trickle of warm blood flowed down my neck. I
decided that until I had a better plan, I should probably do what he said.

He forced me in
through the drivers’ door. I had to climb over the centre console to get to the
opposite seat. Wondering if I had a chance to open the door and escape, I
checked the lock and saw it firmly in place. No hope there. Baldy was already
behind me and starting the car. My heart sank as we pulled out of the car park,
leaving any chance of escape behind and panic closing my throat.

I watched
hopelessly as we passed my little Mini and drove off into the unknown. I could
feel my neck stinging and put my hand to my throat. I looked down and saw it
was covered in blood. Nausea and fear rolled through my stomach.

“I’m going to
throw up!” I said, looking around desperately, pushing the switch for the
window to go down. It wasn’t working. He must have them locked.

Alarm registered
in his eyes and he waved the knife in my direction again. “Don’t you dare,” he
snarled.

Too bad, I
thought, as I turned my head in his direction and threw up the entire contents
of my stomach—which I may add was quite a bit after I’d stopped on my way
here to have a thick shake, burger and chips.

The car swerved
across the road, as he attempted to protect himself from the barrage of vomit
coming his way. It didn’t help though. It was dripping off his arm, sliding
down the side of his face and hanging off his earring. I could see his gag
reflex kick in and quickly winding down his window, he stuck his head outside
and took some deep breaths.

Once he gained
control, he turned to me, raised his fist and struck. “
Bitch
!”

My head hit the
window so hard, everything turned black as I said a quick goodbye to the world.

* * * *

It
was the sound of a dog barking that pulled me from the darkness. It sounded a
long way off, but I could definitely hear it. I prized my eyes open. My head throbbed
and I struggled to remember what had happened. Blinking several times, I begged
my eyes to adjust to the light faster than they were. I saw I was on the floor
in my kitchen and the dog I could hear was Harper.

I have no idea
how long I was unconscious for but, judging by the gloom in the room, I’d say
it had been a while. The blinds were closed, adding to the shadowy darkness.
 
I tried to sit up and realized one hand
was handcuffed to my refrigerator. No wonder my wrist hurt so much. I raised
 
myself onto my knees to take the
pressure off of my wrist and tried to figure out what was going on.

“Hello, again,”
I heard a familiar, smooth voice say.

Struggling to
my feet, I hoped my legs weren’t quite as jelly-like as they felt. I turned
around as far as the handcuffs would allow and came face to face with David
Thornton.

“We meet
again,” he crooned. My voice hadn’t caught up with the rest of me yet, so I
glared at him instead.

“You’re
probably wondering what I’m doing here? Well, it turns out it’s quite a story. One
you can blame Avis Miller completely for,” he said, pointing at me.

I’m not sure
why, but I felt compelled to defend her, even though we’d never actually met. “Don’t
blame other people for your choices, ” I said, my wobbly voice deciding to join
in on the proceedings.

“Oh, I would
never do that, Lizzie. I hope you don’t mind that I use your Christian name. I
do feel we are quite connected now. Don’t you?”

“The only part
of me that I would like to be connected to you is my fist,” I mumbled, trying
to shake the grogginess that I was feeling.

He gave a
throaty chuckle. “Now, now, please don’t be like that. You will be standing in
front of St Peter soon and, if you want to spend eternity with our Lord, then
you will need to be repentant.”

He’d moved
closer and was now standing only a few feet away. Shaking my head, I felt the
sluggishness start to fade and my desire to fight kick in. I wanted to hit him
so badly, not just for handcuffing me to my refrigerator but for all of the bad
things he’d done. And he had the nerve to stand in front of me in my home, and
talk about forgiveness. Surely, God would forgive me one little punch right
about now. To hell with it, I’d worry about that when I met St Peter.

It only took me
a second, but in that second my fist connected with his jaw nicely. He
staggered backwards as the shock registered on his face. He’d not been
expecting that. Recovering quickly, he rubbed his chin and moved closer. The
look in his eyes was so chilling, I saw the real man behind the facade. He was
no Christian. His heart was full of hatred.

I watched as he
raised his arm and backhanded me across the face. It was such a hard blow that,
had my hand not been handcuffed to the fridge, I would have been knocked across
the kitchen. Stars flitted in front of my eyes and pain shot up my handcuffed
arm but I struggled to clear my head and remain conscious. Feeling my lip, I
felt the blood oozing its way towards my chin.

“Don’t
eve
r raise your hand to me again. Do you
understand me?”

His voice was
low and menacing, his face forward inches from mine. Even though he’d told me I
was about to meet my Maker, I wasn’t as scared as I thought I’d be.

Maybe the fight
to survive went into overdrive in life-threatening situations. Sure, my legs
resembled jelly and I could do with a really good cry, but I was prepared to go
down fighting. My heart rate was so high I’d probably die from cardiac arrest
long before he had the chance to kill me. Getting back onto my feet, I looked up
at him and met his gaze.

“What do you
want from me?” I demanded.

“All I ever
wanted was to get the ring back and protect not just my family, but my
congregation.”

“What are you
protecting them from? The truth? Surely they deserve to know how evil you really
are?” This gained me another strike. Thankfully this one wasn’t as hard but if
I survived this, I was going to look awful.

“My aunt was
the sinner, Elizabeth, not me!”

“Really? How do
you figure that?” I asked, pulling myself back up and desperately fighting
tears.

“The Bible
clearly states God made men and women to be together in marriage. Homosexuality
is a sin!”

“Your aunt fell
in love and you can’t choose who that will be with. But you did choose to hurt
people and lie to them. Surely that’s a bigger sin?”

“I pray for
forgiveness for my sins. She did not.”

“How did you
know I found the ring anyway?” He looked thoughtful, but chose to answer my
question.

“Patrick Johns,
Ms. Miller’s solicitor, is a member of my congregation. I’d asked him to talk
to Ms. Miller and find out what happened to it. My father told me about the
relationship between Ms. Miller and my aunt. If this gets out into the
community, our church could be destroyed. The whole foundation of who we are as
a family and what we represent would be shattered. My whole life is in that Church.
What would happen to me if it fell apart?” I could see the agitation in his
eyes.

“You’re an evil
person,” I said, not really caring anymore. It pretty much looked like today
was D-day for me so I may as well go down in a blaze of glory, as they say. Drawing
his hand back, he struck me across the face and the stars appeared. My head felt
like it was going to explode…again.

“Now I have to
go and pray. I need to ask for forgiveness. All because of you,” he said, pushing
his face close to mine.

“Well I hope
God says
no
. You don’t deserve it.” This
gained me an extra strike. I wasn’t sure how many more of those I could take. Struggling
to get back on my feet, my whole body shaking, I noticed that bald-headed sedan
man had entered the room. He looked like he’d just got out of the shower.

“What are you
wearing?” David Thornton demanded, turning to look at him, disdain dripping
from every word.

“She vomited on
me, I had to find clean clothes.”

I noticed he
was wearing an old oversized t-shirt of mine I used for sleeping in and a pair
of my sweatpants he’d stretched to their absolute max. They stopped short just
below his knees. If he hadn’t been polishing a very large knife, I may have laughed
at how absurd he looked.

Turning back
towards me, David Thornton asked, “Where is the ring, Lizzie?”

“I don’t have
it.” This earned me another hit.

“Do not lie!”

“I’m not
lying!” I yelled back, giving into my tears. “I gave it to the jeweler.”

Okay, maybe that
bit was a lie.

Turning to look
at Sedan Man, David said, “You said he didn’t have it.”

“He told me he
didn’t. He only had a photo.”

I could see the
anger in David Thornton’s eyes as he looked back at me.

“It probably
burnt in the shop fire,” I said, putting my head down, hoping he wouldn’t see
my lie.

“I checked
before I started the fire, Sir. It wasn’t there.” I could hear the fear in Sedan
Man’s voice. He needed the pastor to believe him.

“I don’t know
who to believe, you or the idiot over there!” he yelled, looking at me.

“You know if
you’d just asked for the ring in the first place, I would probably have given
it to you,” I said, wiping my running nose with the back of my free hand.

“You…” he said,
thrusting his finger in my face, “...are a liar! Though I have given you fair
warning, you are going to Hell, Elizabeth Fuller.” He turned to Sedan Man. “You
know what to do.”

He turned his
back on me and walked out of the room.

Waiting in
silence, we heard the front door close and a car engine turn over before it
roared out of my driveway. We sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Sedan
Man stared at me, a sadistic smile plastered all over his ugly face. I noticed
how dark his eyes were. I noticed the scar that ran from his lip to chin, and I
noticed how crooked his nose was. Finally, he broke the silence.

“I’ve been
watching you, you know. Did you like my photo?” he chuckled. I felt the cold
chill sweep over my skin as goose-bumps broke out by the millions.

“Did you ever
wonder why your bedroom door was always open in the morning? I’m very good at
picking locks, you know. I thought by leaving the door open you would at least
know I’d been there. I wanted you to know. This last week has been torture for
me, watching you from afar but not being able to get close to you.” Closing the
gap between us, he silently crossed the room.

“I was only
supposed to watch your house for a short while, but once I had seen you, I
couldn’t help but keep coming back. I was hooked.” He stopped, looking down at
me. “You really are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” Grabbing a
handful of my hair, he curled it around his fingers. “I love your hair,” he
whispered, pulling me hard against him. “I love it’s softness but most of all,
I love the way it smells.” I heard a low, almost primeval growl, low in his
throat, as he put his nose to my scalp. “You’re probably wondering how I know
what it smells like?” He was pulling hard, forcing me to stretch upwards to
ease the pain. “I’ve smelt it while you were asleep,” he whispered, his lips
touching my ear as he gently rubbed the blade of his knife against my cheek. “You
look so peaceful when you sleep, never knowing I was watching you. It’s such a
shame I have to kill you, because I think I may have fallen in love with you.”

His lips were
just millimeters away from my cheek as his tongue trailed its way to my mouth. I
could smell the stale smell of cigarette smoke, making me want to gag, but
before I even had a chance to breathe, he forced his mouth over mine and kissed
me.

The rough
stubble on his jaw scraped my tender skin and he forced my lips apart with his
tongue. The taste of fear and cigarettes swirled in the back of my throat as
his mouth drowned my screams. I started to make all sorts of promises to God,
that if he could please get me out of this, I would be a much better girl and visit
him in church more often.

Thankfully, he
seemed to be listening.

Sedan Man let
go of me, stood back and grinned. “I just can’t decide whether I should make
love to you before or after I kill you.”

Okay, God
wasn’t listening properly. My stomach dove south and darkness threatened to
consume me. This man was certifiably crazy and I couldn’t see any way out. At
least if he killed me first, I wouldn’t have to know what it felt like to be
raped. The kiss violated me enough.