The Perfect Son by Freida McFadden(70)



“Erika,” Jason manages, choking on his own blood. “You…”

I stare down at him, waiting for his final words to me. Is he going to tell me he loves me one last time? I don’t think I could handle it if he did. I already feel like I can barely stand up.

“You bitch,” he finishes. “After all I did for you…”

I flinch as if he hit me. Liam was right. Jason is not the man I thought he was. He’s sick. He’s crazy. And he’s done something horrible. He was planning to kill me, and the only reason I’m alive right now is because my son saved me.

Jason deserves this death.

I take a step forward, standing over him. I draw back my foot, and with all my strength, I kick him right in the ribs. It’s the last thing he feels before he loses consciousness.

I bury my face in my hands, wanting to cry but too stunned. Jason. Hannah. Gone. Is this really happening? I think I’m going to be sick.

“Mom.” That urgency is back in Liam’s voice, bursting into my haze. “Let’s go into the cabin. Maybe we can still save them.”

He tugs at my arm and I follow him without thinking. My legs move automatically, but my head won’t stop spinning. I’m terrified to see what’s inside there. If my daughter is lying dead on the ground in that cabin, I’m not sure I could go on after seeing that. It would destroy me.

We get inside the cabin, which is dark except for a flashlight lying on the ground. The flashlight provides just enough illumination to know there’s no one in here. But I hear voices. Muffled female voices.

“Hannah!” Liam yells. He drops to his knees and plants his palms on the ground. “Where are you?”

This time I hear the words more distinctly in my daughter’s voice: “Down here!”

There is apparently a trap door. There’s a ring of keys lying on the ground and Liam tries each one until the lock pops open. His hands are so steady—I’m amazed. How could he be so calm after what just happened? I don’t think I could hold a key, much less fit one into the lock. He swings the trap door open and shines the flashlight inside.

There they are. Hannah, her face tear-streaked, but completely alive. And Olivia. Also alive.

The relief I feel almost knocks me off my feet. Hannah is okay. My daughter is alive.

Thank God.





Chapter 62


Olivia



“Hannah! Where are you?”

Hannah’s disembodied voice floats through the air: “Down here!”

I reach into the darkness until my hand makes contact with Hannah’s arm. “Shush! What are you doing?”

“It’s okay. That’s Liam. He’ll help us out.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Of course I’m sure. He’s my brother.”

I don’t point out the fact that her father is the one who trapped me here for four days with plans to let me starve to death. So somebody being in her family doesn’t exactly make me feel good. But at this point, there’s nothing more I can do.

The trap door swings open, and there he is. Liam Cass. The boy I’d been crushing on for nearly three months, who I used to think was the cutest guy in the whole dang school. He’s holding a flashlight, but not pointing it at our eyes like his father did. I can just barely make out his face, and he scrunches his eyebrows together. “Can you get out?” he asks.

Hannah shakes her head. “No,” she says. “I hurt my wrist when Dad pushed me down here. And Olivia’s ankle is really bad.”

Liam listens to this, nodding thoughtfully. “I can come down there. I’ll help you get out.”

Before I can suggest this might not be a great idea, Liam has climbed down into the hole. He’s very nimble, and he gets in easily without hurting himself. Now that I can see him up close, I realize there’s blood all over him. It’s everywhere. It’s staining his T-shirt and splattered all over his face. Hannah clasps her hand over her mouth.

“Liam!” she exclaims. “Are you… I mean, did he…?”

“I’m fine.” Liam shakes his head and makes a face. “It’s his blood.”

Hannah’s mouth falls open. “Is he… dead?”

Liam nods slowly. He doesn’t give any other details and I’m glad.

“I told you not to come,” she whispers, her eyes filling up with tears again. “You’re going to get in trouble now.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Hannah. He would’ve killed you. How could I let that happen?”

Then she throws her arms around him, and she hugs him so tightly that when she pulls away, her father’s blood is all over her shirt too. She wipes her eyes as he crouches down next to me on the floor, where I’m clutching my ankle. In the light of the flashlight, his eyes look black. “What’s hurting?” he asks.

I show him my ankle. He shines a flashlight on it, and we both gasp simultaneously. It looks terrible. It’s swollen to twice the size it should be, the skin is shiny and red, and yellow pus is coming out of a break in the skin. I had no idea it was that bad.

“Don’t worry,” Liam says. “We’re going to get you out of here. I promise.”

One corner of his lips moves up in a crooked smile, and I remember how much I used to like him. How he used to make my heart speed up in my chest when I watched him race around the track after school. It seems like an eternity ago.

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