Till Death(94)

“That was me.” He winked, and my phone started ringing once more. “It’s amazing how people, even law enforcement, will see what they want to see. I mean, no one wants to believe an all-A student who watches Star Trek and marathons of Firefly is capable of murdering his parents.”

Jason was a monster.

“I found my father pretty quickly and you know what I found?” he said, curling his hand around the back of my neck. “I really take after my dad. Must be a genetic thing.” Lifting his gaze to the ceiling, he shrugged a shoulder. “Except he was a lot calmer than me. More patient. You did get that right. My father wanted to spend the rest of his life with his brides,” he said, lips twisted into a cruel semblance of a smile. “I just wanted to see what their insides looked like.”

“Jesus,” I muttered.

“He doesn’t have a thing to do with this.” Jason rose and dragged me with him. “Oh, and thank you for telling me that I had yet another relative here. Good ole Mayor Mark Hughes.”

A new horror filled me.

“He had no idea we were related, that Vernon had a son. I doubt he would’ve welcomed me into the fold if he did,” he said, laughing under his breath. “I paid him a little visit, made sure he took the fall for everything. Come to find out he really did vandalize your car and did that really weird shit with the deer and your mother’s truck.” Jason chuckled again as he pulled me back from the counter. “What a dumbass. He about pissed himself when he realized who I was, when I made him hold the gun to his own head. Man, putting that kind of fear into someone is a beautiful thing.”

I swallowed. “They’ll figure . . . it out. That it wasn’t a suicide.”

He snorted. “No. They won’t. Not these dumbasses. But now I’m going to have to get real creative about this mess.” He paused. “And you know who is a really great suspect? One Cole Landis.”

“You—”

Jason grunted as he shoved me forward. My upper body slid across the island. Pots and pans scattered across the island, clanging off the floor. A container of uncooked rice Mom had left out flew across the room. My cellphone went flying, and then I was falling. I twisted at the last second, hitting the floor. My hip smashed into a pot, and sharp pain flashed down my leg. I reached out behind me, my hands smacking along the floor as my phone starting ringing once more.

In under a heartbeat, he was on me, one hand on the center of my chest as he reached up into a drawer. The knives—holy shit, he was going for the knives. “This is going to be messy. Hard to clean up after. Maybe pinning this shit on Cole isn’t going to work. Probably going to have to leave town.”

I bucked my hips as I slid my hand along the floor. My fingers brushed the cool handle—the skillet, the iron skillet. So close.

“When I’m done with you, I’m gonna dump your body right where it always belonged,” he said, pulling a knife out of the drawer. Light glinted off the blade. “I think that would make Dad happy.”

“Your father was a twisted fuck,” I spat, swinging the cast-iron skillet with all my strength. “And so are you.”

The crack was like a shot of thunder, echoing throughout the kitchen, and shot down my arm. Jason yelped as his grip loosened. I wrenched free, flipping over and scuttling on my knees. Pushing up, I whipped around, facing him.

Wild, wide eyes fixed on mine. Eyes I’d once trusted, was familiar with. Eyes I even loved in a little way. Eyes now full of hatred and fury. Slowly, like water easing between rocks, the emotion faded from them.

Jason shifted to the side, his left leg going out on him first. He went down to his side, arms outstretched toward me, still coming at me, still wanting to hurt, but I was out of reach.

He was never going to get to me again.

Jason shifted forward, hitting the floor face-first. His body twitched once, twice, and then stilled.

Breathing heavy, I stepped back as I lowered my aching arm. A faint stream of blood seeped across the floor, sinking into the crevices between the tiles.

It was him.

It always had been him.

My stomach churned as bile rose so swiftly I doubled over, vomiting. I’d trusted him. He’d helped me afterward, telling me I was safe, after he’d done horrible, horrible things to me. My entire body burned. I’d trusted him with my mother and my friends. I’d trusted him when he—

Straightening, I clenched the pan. Pull it together, Sasha, pull it together. I limped back, my gaze darting to where Miranda lay motionless. I needed to check on her, but I didn’t want to take my eyes off Jason.

I opened my mouth to call her name, but only a hoarse croak came out. I swallowed the burn and tried again. “Miranda?”

When I glanced over at her, she hadn’t moved. What if she—no. I cut those thoughts off. She wasn’t dead. There was no way. I couldn’t let myself believe that. I needed to focus on getting help.

Face throbbing, I scanned the disaster that was the kitchen for my cellphone. Pots were everywhere. Shards of ceramic. Spilled rice. Limping toward the counter, I held on to the cast-iron skillet. I eased around the island, getting closer to Miranda as I kept my eyes on Jason.

Kneeling, I placed a hand on her chest. “Miranda?” After a moment, I felt her chest rise. “Miranda, honey, I need you to get up.”

A soft moan drew my attention. Jason wasn’t moving. I took a risk and looked at Miranda. Her eyelids fluttered.