Call Me Cat (Call Me Cat Trilogy #1)(37)

Because it finally clicked, and I understood. Ash hadn't invited me to dinner. My parents' killer had. Somehow he knew about the blue dress. Knew about our most intimate conversations. Knew that I was Cat.

He knew everything, and now he had me.

I stretched my neck from side to side, but saw nothing in the pitch black. I would die tonight. I would die because I'd been stupid and gullible and had believed that Ash wanted me and not Cat.

How could I have been so stupid?

I heard a noise and jumped in my chair, sending sharp spears of pain into my arms and legs. A candle flared to life and the silhouette of someone in a mask approached me. "I'm going to take the gag out, if you promise not to scream." The man spoke through a synthesizer, giving his voice that sinister quality I knew all too well.

Fear spiked in me and I nodded, knowing I would need to cooperate to secure some semblance of freedom.

He took the ball out of my mouth. I retched, coughing and trying to breathe more deeply. I wanted to scream, to beg and cry, but I tried to keep my voice calm. "What are you going to do to me?"

He ran a gloved finger down my cheek. "That's not clear yet. First, I need to know where the book is."

"What book?" This wasn't the question I was expecting.

"The book your mother wrote. Where is it?"

"I don't understand. You can get that book anywhere."

He backhanded me across the face and my head snapped to the side, the crack of my neck loud in the small room. "Not that book, the one after that."

Now I cried, unable to hold in the tears or terror. "She never wrote it. It doesn't exist."

Another hand across my face. "Liar. Where is it? Tell me, and you might live through the night."

"I would if I knew, but it doesn't exist. The police looked everywhere, and there was nothing. She hadn't written any of it yet."

"I was hoping you'd do this the easy way. I learned to like you after all this time." He moved to a table I hadn't noticed and unrolled something. The light of the candle glinted off metal and I bit my tongue to keep from screaming.

Instead, I focused on every detail I could. Something tickled at the back of my mind, the way he walked, the way his shoulders slumped forward in a defensive posture. As he looked at his tools he brought his right hand to his upper lip, smoothing down the mustache hidden under the mask.

And then I remembered the one name that hadn't been on the party list. Someone I'd seen and talked with, someone who was supposed to be staff but hadn't been listed.

And I knew.

"Lucky? How? Why?" I choked on my tears and thought back over the years. Lucky had been a staple in my coffee-addicted life since freshman year at Harvard. I'd learned his subtle tics and mannerisms from the many visits in between classes. He'd always been so nice, so kind to me.

So attentive.

His head snapped up. "Quiet! Don't you talk unless I ask you a question."

He'd been at the party. He'd known my schedule, or could get it. But how did he mail the letters around the world? How did he text me when he was with me? Was it true? Could he have been working with Bradley all along? Maybe Bradley was sent to seduce Bridgette to get closer to us.

"You won't hurt me, Lucky. I know you won't. I just want to know, why? Please, let me go, and I won't tell anyone, I swear. This can all end tonight."

He shoved the ball back into my mouth as I fought him, shaking my head, trying to kick despite the restraints cutting me.

He picked up a razor sharp knife from the table, one of the more innocuous looking tools he had, and held it to my face. "Tell me where it is, Catelyn. Believe it or not, I won't enjoy this as much as I normally do. You were always real nice to me." He removed the ball gag again so I could answer him.

"There is no book, Lucky."

"Then I'm sorry." He traced the knife down my neck, cutting just enough to bring a trickle of blood to the surface.

My brain buzzed with only one thought—I was going to die tonight, but first I was going to be tortured.

I braced myself for the pain, hoping I would die fast, before I went insane. Eyes squeezed closed, muscles tensed and ready, I waited.

And someone burst into the room calling my name. Lucky turned on him, knife in hand, but my rescuer kicked it away and knocked him to the ground, then kicked him until he didn't move.

"Catelyn, oh my God, Catelyn."

He came into the light, and I sobbed. "Ash."

He used a pocketknife to cut me out of the wires and held me close. "How badly hurt are you, Catelyn?"

I tried to speak, but fear had numbed my tongue.

Pulling away from me, he searched my body, seeing the blood and cuts. "We have to get you out of here. Have to get you somewhere safe."

"Wh—where are we? How did you find me?" Nothing about this made any sense.

"I got a text from a blocked number telling me if I ever wanted to see you alive again I should come to this address. We're in an old mine that's been closed down for years. We have to go through the tunnels to get out."

Ash let go of me to tear off a piece of his shirt and bind my wounds. As he bent over to pick up the light, Lucky rose, lunging toward him with the knife he'd used to cut me. I screamed, grabbing a hammer from the table, and swung as hard as I could.