The Last Housewife (88)
Dorsey studied me, eyes lingering on my lips. If I hadn’t been frozen with terror, I would have flinched. “She came into the station asking questions about Laurel Hargrove weeks ago. Said they used to be friends.”
“Laurel Hargrove?” The Marquis turned to the Lieutenant, his chest puffing. “Don’t tell me you let in a reporter.”
Nicole turned to me, and for a second, I saw her surprise and betrayal. But then it was gone, her face smoothed into a conciliatory mask. “Adam.” Her tone was low and calming. “I don’t know what you think you heard—”
Dorsey’s face shone with sweat. “You’re planning to leave me.”
“No—”
“After everything I’ve done for you—you piece of trash—you were going to run away.”
She took a step back. “You were going to keep me from the Hilltop.”
“Nicole, don’t,” I said, but as soon as I spoke, the Disciple pointed at my face. “Shut the fuck up, whoever you are, or you’ll regret it.”
“I get to decide what happens to you.” The Chief’s voice was throttled. There was dirt smeared into the white wool of his tunic. He’d clearly pushed fast through the woods to find Nicole. “If I tell you you’re staying with me every goddamn day of your life, it’s your job to shut up and thank me for not getting tired of you. I tell you you’re mine, you don’t so much as breathe near another man, Philosopher or not.” His voice rose. “You know the rules. Every day, you get on your fucking hands and your knees and you worship me. You thank me for choosing you, you trailer park whore. How dare you humiliate me?”
“Don’t talk to her that way.” The words flew out. “You don’t own her.”
“Mouth closed.” The Disciple took a step forward. “Or you’ll need it wired shut.”
“But you don’t.” Nicole’s spine straightened, and there was that glint in her eye—the streak of subversiveness no amount of time with the Paters could snuff, the thing that kept drawing me to her. Now I wanted to scream at her to bury it, be docile enough to survive. “I was using you, Adam. You were a rung on a ladder, a stepping-stone to the Hilltop. We both know I can do better. I tried to wait it out, but you want the truth? Fucking you got too boring to wait.”
She was going for his jugular. I felt another stab of fear. I’d wanted her to be brave, but not like this.
Dorsey lunged at her. “Don’t lie to me. You wanted it… You begged.” The look on his face said he believed it.
Nicole stepped backward out of his reach, stumbling a little, that familiar look of defiance sharpening at his words. I wanted to scream at her, No, not now, but she kept pushing. “I couldn’t wait to leave. I’ve been counting down the days.”
The Chief grabbed for her and I screamed, but she dodged his grasp, turned to me, and hissed, “Come on,” then took off. I knew we were outnumbered, two deer against a pack of wolves, but it was now or never, run or die. So I ran.
We exploded into the trees just as a terrible roar sounded, Dorsey yelling after us, the Paters launching into motion. I seized Nicole’s hand and pulled her faster, no longer a thinking thing but an animal, determined to survive.
I would have run forever if they’d let me. I would’ve never stopped, never slowed, would have gone on moving until my legs buckled. Except Nicole cried out, and her hand jerked from mine, and without it, I tumbled forward.
I caught myself and spun back. But she was on the forest floor, stretched out on her back, arms outstretched to shield herself, eyes wide in terror. Dorsey seized her by the ankles, dragged her so swiftly her head bounced against the tree roots and she cried out.
“No!” I screamed. “Nicole!”
“Why’d you have to do it?” the Chief yelled, towering over her. “Why are you making me do this to you?” The look on his face was the same he’d worn when Laurel, Clem, and I went to him for help twelve years ago, the same he’d worn when I questioned him in his office, except now the rage was no longer hinted but unleashed, the true sight of it flooring me, stealing my breath.
Nicole twisted, trying to fight him, but he pinned her. She scratched his face, a vicious bloody swipe across his cheek, and suddenly there was no more wondering What was he capable of, no more How far would he go, because Adam Dorsey bent over, grabbed the face of the woman who’d dared to flee him, and cracked her head against a rock, the intensity of his rage matched only by the scream filling the woods, an animal howl heating the cold, a noise that seemed to come from me.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Nicole was a tree on the forest floor. Transformed like the nymphs before her, paying with their lives to escape men’s hunger. She lay still and hollow as a fallen log, eyes locked on the skyline, on the hilltops in the distance.
There was so much blood I slipped in it, running at Adam Dorsey with the force of a train, grappling without pause over roots and rocks, hungry for the moment he tore his gaze away from what he’d done and realized I was coming. And there it was: his head snapped, shoulders stiffening, arms raising like a shield, but it was too late. I barreled into him and down we fell. He was large, his heaviness knocking the wind from me, but my hands found the metal of my switchblade and yanked it out of my shirt, flipping the blade up. I scrambled backward into a crouch and pointed the knife at the chief of police, who lay stunned on the ground.