Take Me With You(11)

I didn't bring a gun. Didn't think I'd need it tonight. So I'm forced to improvise. I go to the kitchen and pull the biggest, sharpest knife from the knife block. I hold it up and slowly twist it back and forth, admiring the way the moonlight flickers off of it. It excites me, holding this power in my hands. I walk to the massive picture window that looks out to the neighborhood. Just dark houses. Quiet. Stillness. I am the king of the night. They all lie with their necks exposed. Any one of them can be mine. But tonight—tonight is Vesper's turn to learn what it’s like when the sun has hidden and cannot save you with its light. I pull the curtains closed over the shades and it feels like nothing exists out there. Like the world is everything within these walls.

I’m not prepared as I usually am, so I wander about, looking for items I can use as bindings. Dr. Peter keeps a tidy garage, so I access it from the mudroom, just off the kitchen. He has a few climbing ropes perfectly coiled, hanging off a few hooks just to the side of the door. I lift them and slide them over my shoulder.

It's time.

I walk into the bedroom. Her closet door is open, overflowing with dresses and shirts and scarves. I grab a couple of the scarves and drop them on the bed at their feet. The fabric catches air and falls to the bed like a weeping woman. I gently place the rope beside it so as not to disturb them. I secure the knife with an overhand grip.

Click.

The flashlight shines at her face.

I study her as she opens her eyes, but shuts them at the sting of the blinding light. She tries to make sense of it all as she opens them again and rubs them. But she won't be able to. None of this makes sense.





It happens so fast. I'm dreaming of sunsets at Lake Tahoe and then the sun, once kissing my skin, is burning my eyes. No, it's not the sun. I'm not dreaming. This is real. Is that Carter? No, it's…I don't know. I open my mouth to call Carter's name.

“Don't scream,” a gritty voice whispers. I can't see what's behind the bright light. I don't have time to think or rationalize. I just sit there, stunned. But it only lasts a second before I rebel.

“Carter!”

He jolts up in response to the alarm in my voice. The intruder shines a light at him, that's when I get a better look, but it's not much. His face is covered in a mask so that his lips and eyes peek through. I see little flashes of residual light in my vision, making it hard to adjust to the darkness.

“Who the hell are you?” Carter asks.

The man grabs my arm and pulls me up. I let out a cry, but suck it back in when a cold blade rests against my neck.

“Oh my god,” I sob.

“I just want your money. I don't want to wake up the boy. Do you?”

Carter puts his palms out, showing he's willing to cooperate.

“Take whatever you want. Please just don't hurt her.”

“I won't. Just do what I say.”

The knife slips away from my neck, but as soon as that relief hits me, there's a poke in my back, just where my heart would be if the knife sliced through my ribs. I kneel in between him and Carter. Even if Carter, a 6'4” former collegiate volleyball player with a great reach could get to him, I'd get caught up between them. I'd probably get stabbed.

“Tie him up,” the devilish voice orders.

“We'll do what you want. You don't have to tie—”

The knife pinches my skin. “Do it.”

“O—okay.” I reach carefully for the rope. It looks like my stepfather's climbing rope.

“Turn around,” the masked man directs Carter. “Hands behind your back.”

Carter purses his lips, his barely-awake mind wrestling with his options, and turns with a protesting huff. I sob as I wrap the rope around his hands.

“I'm sorry,” I whisper to Carter.

“Don't talk. Tie it tight,” the man grunts. I can tell he's trying to disguise his voice.

“It's okay, Vesp. Don't be sorry. Just stay calm.”

“Enough.”

I nod and tie the rope as weakly as I can without being obvious.

“Feet,” he grumbles.

I take the other rope and bind Carter’s feet.

The man pushes me to the side and tosses the flashlight haphazardly on the bed, so that it shines away from us.

“You run and I'll take the boy,” he warns. My thoughts go to Johnny. He had been in the back of my mind, but the scene had been so focused to this room. I realize I have to do whatever it takes to keep that man away from him, even if it means to fully cooperate. He just wants money. I'll give him everything we have.

I sit at the edge of the bed, trembling, stifling my cries as he redoes my handiwork, tying Carter in a complex series of knots, attaching the feet and arms so that he's hog-tied. He grabs a tie-dye scarf from the bed and covers Carter's eyes. It's the first time I get a full view of the intruder, head to toe. He's not short, but not as tall as Carter, maybe five-eleven or six feet. I can tell through the dark shirt and military-style pants he's wearing that he's built. Not thick and muscular like a bodybuilder. More lithe, like an athlete. Like a lacrosse player. Carter may have him beat on height, but this guy looks more solid, and I'm not sure Carter could take him. I know I'd certainly be no match.

Once he has Carter immobilized, he turns his attention to me, walking over to the chair I keep by the closet and lifting the cushion. There's twine underneath it. It doesn't make sense.