A Flicker in the Dark(70)

I think of my mother, bed-bound back in Riverside, her life confined to the ever-shrinking walls of her own troubled mind. And I understand now. I understand why she did it. I always thought she went back to my father because she was weak; because she didn’t want to be alone. Because she didn’t know how to leave him—she didn’t want to leave him. But now, in this moment, I understand my mother more than I ever have before. I understand that she went back to him because she was desperately searching for any trace of evidence that would point in the opposite direction, a scrap of something she could cling to that proved she wasn’t in love with a monster. And when she couldn’t find it, she was forced to take a good hard look at herself. She was forced to ask herself the very questions that are now swirling in my own mind, constricting in the same way hers must have been.

She was forced to acknowledge the fact that she was in love with a monster. And if she was in love with a monster … what did that make her?

I feel the car start to roll to a stop. I glance out the window again and see that we’re deep in the woods, the only break in the trees a small, swampy stream, presumably the entrance to a larger body of water.

“We’re here,” he says, turning off the car and stuffing the keys in his pocket. “Now get out.”

“Where is here?” I ask again, trying to keep my voice light.

“You’ll see.”

“Daniel,” I say, but he’s already out of the car, walking over to the passenger side and opening my door for me. What used to feel like a chivalrous act now feels more ominous, like he’s forcing me out against my will. I reluctantly take his hand and step out of the car, wincing as he slams the door shut behind me, my purse, phone, and pepper spray still inside.

“Close your eyes.”

“Daniel—”

“Close them.”

I close my eyes, taking in the absolute silence around us. I wonder if this is where he took them, Aubrey and Lacey. I wonder if this is where he did it. It’s the perfect spot—isolated, hidden. He won’t hurt you. I hear the buzzing of mosquitos around us, the scamper of some animal rustling the leaves in the distance. He won’t. I hear footsteps, Daniel’s, walking back toward my car, unlocking the trunk, pulling something out. He won’t hurt you, Chloe. I hear a thud as whatever it is is yanked from inside and lands on the ground. He’s walking back toward me now, carrying something. I hear it scraping against the ground. The scraping of metal against dirt.

A shovel.

I swing around, ready to sprint into the woods and hide. Ready to scream at the top of my lungs, hoping against all odds that there is someone else out here. Someone to hear me. Someone to help. When I face Daniel, his eyes are wide. He wasn’t expecting me to turn around. He wasn’t expecting me to fight. I look down at his hands, at the long, slender thing he’s clutching in his palms. I raise my arms to block him from striking me with it when I get a good, hard look at it and realize … it’s not a shovel. Daniel isn’t holding a shovel.

It’s an oar.

“I thought we’d go kayaking,” he says, his eyes darting over to the water. I turn, looking at the small opening where the trees part and the swamp water peeks through. Next to it, partially hidden behind the foliage, is a wooden rack with four kayaks perched inside, covered in leaves and dirt and spiderwebs. I exhale.

“This place is pretty hidden, but it’s been here forever,” he says, holding the oar sheepishly in his hands. He steps closer and holds it out for me to take. I grab it, feeling the heaviness of it in my arms. “The kayaks are free to use, you just need to bring your own paddle. It wouldn’t fit in my car, so I took your keys and loaded it into your trunk this morning.”

I look at him, studying him closely. If he were planning on using this thing as a weapon, he wouldn’t have handed it to me. I look down at the paddle and then back to the kayaks, the stillness of the water, the cloudless sky. I glance over at the car—my only way out of here, I know. The keys are in his pocket; I have no other way home. So I decide in this moment—if he can act, so can I.

“Daniel,” I say, dropping my head. “Daniel, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You’re tense. And that’s completely understandable, Chloe. That’s why we’re here. So I can help you relax.”

I look at him, still unsure if I can trust him. I can’t ignore the flood of evidence over the last few hours. The necklace and the perfume, the way Cooper had glared at him at Riverside, as if he could sense something in him that I couldn’t—something evil, something dark. My mother’s warning. The way he had grabbed my wrist yesterday, pinning me to the couch; the way he had snapped at me this morning, dangling my keys just out of reach.

But then there are the other things, too. He had a security system installed. He took me to Riverside to see my mother and threw a surprise party and planned a day for just us two. It’s exactly the type of romantic gesture that he has always done from the moment we first met, lifting that box out of my arms and hoisting it onto his shoulder. The type of gesture I was looking forward to enjoying for the rest of our lives. I can’t help but smile as I take in his self-conscious grin—habit, I suppose—and that’s when I make up my mind: Daniel may hurt people, but I don’t yet believe that he would hurt me.