Broken Worlds Page 8

  “So, Kalli, did you see anything out there?”

  His arms are crossed as he leans against the kitchen island. He sounds casual and calm, but his eyes betray him. They are narrow and cold.

  “Like what? A bear?”

  He stares at me, waiting.

  The frosty expression clinging to his face unhinges me. Something’s not right. Our connection has been severed, and I feel like I’m looking at a stranger.

  “No, I didn’t see anything. Except the cat,” I lie, feeling the ripple of panic rise inside me again.

  “You’re sure? Because you seemed like you were upset when I found you?”

  “Yeah, well, you snuck up on me. I think you can understand why that would upset me,” I say, meeting his glare.

  He shakes his head and lets his arms fall to his side. “Of course. Of course, I understand. I’m sorry. I should have realized. Especially after what you found out last night.” He looks like he’s about to come over to me but instead stays where he is. “How are you feeling?” His eyes are soft again.

  I don’t know how to respond. The kind Ellis has returned. I stand by the front door, uncommitted as to whether I’m coming or going. My hand plays with the sleeve of my coat. Last night was awful. Even now, a part of me still can’t believe that Sammy’s gone. I can’t attach myself to the sorrow because my mind insists on replaying the scene that ends with his escape. Twisting the sleeve between my fingers, I just nod.

  “You should still keep up your strength. Isn’t that what they say?” He grabs a paper bag from the counter and shakes it. “I brought these last night as a treat for breakfast. But ….” He pauses and wrinkles up his nose. “Well, you know,” he says simply.

  I let the sleeve fall from my hand and take a couple of steps toward him.

  “What did you get?”

  “The best croissants in the entire world.”

  “Sounds delicious,” I say, my voice distant and hollow. “I’ll just wash up a bit.”

  “Yes. Absolutely.” His expression mirrors my own discomfort.

  I shut the bathroom door behind me just in time. I grip the counter to steady myself as my whole body begins to shake. I regard myself in the mirror warily. What are you doing? Why aren’t you telling him? You can trust him. You can.

  “Everything okay in there?” Ellis asks.

  “Yup. Be out in a second.”

  Get it together. The whispers were probably just hikers. Ellis even said that hikers go into the forest.

  But the locked building? I’m so paranoid. There’s nothing weird about that either. It must be his workshop. He said he kept his inventions in a workshop.

  I splash water on my face to smother my irrational worries. I rub each leg to suppress the shaking, dry my face on a towel, smooth out the straggly pieces of hair, and leave the bathroom.

  Ellis is standing so close to the door that he has to take a step back as I come out.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just freaked a bit when I got up and you were gone.”

  “I can’t go out? I can’t leave? I’m a prisoner?”

  “It’s dark out. Remember what happened the last time you were in the dark on your own. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Right, because you don’t want to disappoint Margaret.”

  He lifts my chin and stares into my eyes. “No, it has nothing to do with Margaret. It never did. You matter to me. I don’t want you to leave.”

  And then Ellis kisses me. He places his lips onto mine and kisses me, and I don’t pull away. I don’t want to pull away. His lips are soft and strong at the same time. He wraps one arm around my waist and, with the other arm, pulls my head closer. My whole body responds and sinks into him. And then as quickly as it began, the kiss ends. I open my eyes to find him staring at me.

  “I wasn’t leaving you. I would never just leave,” I say, meaning it. “I needed to clear my head. I’m having a hard time believing that Sammy is gone.”

  “I know. It may take awhile for the real memory to come back.” He tilts his head slightly. “You could’ve woken me. I’d have come with you.”

  “I didn’t want to wake you. I thought the fresh air would help. Plus, I haven’t been outside in a long time.”

  “How about tomorrow we go on a hike?”

  “Yes, I would like that,” I say.

  Ellis rests his palm against my cheek. I close my eyes and relax my head into his hand. And then Ellis presses his lips to my cheek.

  “Shall we have breakfast?” He leads me to the kitchen.

  I close my fingers around his, feeling them intertwine with mine. He looks at me, and once again I’m halted by his astounding beauty. As I watch him assemble our breakfast I realize that my feelings for Ellis are changing. He’s more than just someone who provides a safe refuge. He’s someone I’m falling in love with.

  CHAPTER 12

  I lie in bed, unwilling to open my eyes. I want to remember this moment forever. Today is my one week anniversary of knowing Ellis. And after today, Margaret, Fallon, and all things that infiltrate my world of bliss will disappear.

  The past couple of days dissolved all my misgivings about Ellis. Being with him is as simple as breathing. I feel safe and warm and, perhaps, even loved.

  Neither of us has actually said the three little words, but that doesn’t mean the feelings don’t exist. The way we look at each other. The way I feel when I fold myself into him. Those moments say “I love you” more than any words can.

  It’s as if I’ve known Ellis forever. We grow closer with every second that passes.

  With my eyes still shut, I turn to snuggle into Ellis, and my entire body seizes in excruciating pain. It hurts so much that it takes me a few seconds to realize that Ellis is not even in bed. My legs and arms squeeze into my chest, as I try and breathe through the agony.

  “Ellis,” I groan.

  Slowly the spasm eases, and I unfurl my limbs.

  “Ellis,” I say again, but louder.

  The curtains are still drawn, but the morning is so bright that the sunlight penetrates the fabric and speckles the floor. I go to the bathroom and reach for the cream. This simple movement sends stabs of pain exploding in my abdomen. I steady myself against the counter and dab cream on my stomach. The relief is instantaneous, and I whisper a prayer of thanks to Margaret. I look up into the mirror and see a white piece of paper with Ellis’s meticulous tiny printing.

  Our first snowfall. Thought we’d go on a walk and then have a hot chocolate. Just gone to buy some. Be back soon.

  Ellis.

  Snow? I hurry to the window, no longer feeling any pain, and pull back the curtain. It’s lovely. Soft, fluffy white flakes cover the ground in a blanket. I brush my teeth, wash up, and dab some more cream onto my stomach just to be safe. I layer myself in the warmest clothes I have, and go outside.

  Ellis generously replaced my raggedy old coat with a new one. It’s a lovely pale green jacket that rests snugly against my hips.

  I bend down, scoop up handfuls of snow, and throw them into the air. For a second, I almost lie down to make a snow angel. But then I remember the workshop. There is something about that building that keeps drawing my mind back to it. It was so decrepit. How can he work in that? Maybe I can clean it up, do something nice for Ellis in return for all he has done for me. I breeze back into the house, grab paper towels, some cleaner, and my old library card from my backpack, and head into the forest.

  My library card is the only piece of identification I took with me when I left home. A source of comfort, it reminds me of the hours I spent at the library, cross-legged in an aisle with a book. But Sammy showed me its more practical purpose—breaking into locked buildings.

  As I wind my way through the forest, I remember that I don’t know exactly where the workshop is. I keep having to backtrack. I also am acutely aware of the slow panic brewing inside me.

  To calm myself, I imagine Ellis beside me now, his hand in mine,
as we walk through the trees. But when I hear what sounds like faint clicking noises growing louder, even fantasizing about Ellis doesn’t stop my muscles from tightening. I stand still and look around, waiting for something or someone to come charging toward me, but all I see are two squirrels chasing each other up and down the trees. I shake out my arms and trudge on.

  After what seems like an eternity, I find the workshop. It looks dark and worn against the white of falling snow. This will be my gift to Ellis. I’ll transform this drab building into something amazing. I slide the card into the crack, unlock the door, and step inside.

  It’s immaculate. The white cement floor is gleaming and spotless. At the far end is a large steel desk, flanked on either side by filing cabinets that almost touch the ceiling. There’s a corkboard on the wall by the desk with pictures tacked to it. Pictures of girls, of women, and … me!

  The paper towels and cleaner fall to the floor. Folders are stacked at one side of the desk. Fingers trembling, I grab one. On the front is a photograph of a young woman. It’s labeled “Specimen 223.” I rifle through some more folders. There are more pictures of women, and then I find my folder.

  Specimen 271. I lose the edges of myself. I feel like a part of me has disappeared. There are pictures of me walking down streets of the city, in the train station, under a bridge, and in a park. A photo of Sammy and me. I find notes about my parents, Navi, my school, Mim. Notes about my life. I don’t understand. Who could know all of this? The only person I’ve told all of this to is ….

  No! It’s not Ellis. Ellis would never …. It can’t be. There must be some other explanation. I have to get back to him. To show him this horrible place. He’ll be furious when he finds out someone is tracking me, following me. Listening to our private conversations. Ellis will keep me safe.

  I stumble out of the building and immediately wish I had stayed inside. Streaks of red hair blaze against the white falling snow. My arms flop against my quivering legs. Fallon is inches away, his eyes wide, staring at me.

  I fling myself back inside and throw my whole shaking mass against the door to close it. The pictures, the stories, these are Fallon’s. He’s been following me, stalking me. I have to get out of here.

  I frantically search for a place to hide or something heavy to block the door, but it’s too late. Fallon steps inside. I stand frozen, my body cemented in place with fear.

  “What are you doing out here, Kalli?”

  I stare at him, unable to do anything else.

  “What are you doing, Kalli?” Fallon says.

  “Nothing. I was just going for a walk.”

  He studies me and then looks around the room. He strides over to the desk and turns back to me.

  “Been snooping where you shouldn’t have been?” he accuses.

  “What are you talking about?” I say, trying to speak through the thickness that’s clogging my words.

  “Didn’t your parents teach you not to touch things that don’t belong to you?”

  It’s hard to breathe. Fallon killed these women, and now he’s going to kill me. None of it makes any sense though. I just met Fallon a week ago. How did he get all those pictures of me? How does he know about my past?

  It can’t be true. What I’m thinking can’t be true. I refuse to believe that Ellis has anything to do with this. Ellis loves me.

  My life is finally worth something again, and I’m going to fight for it. And if my efforts prolong my life for only a few more seconds, then so be it. But I will not give Fallon my last breath. He’ll have to take it from me.

  He’s farther from the door than I am. I launch myself through the open doorway. Tuning out the urge to look back, I rush toward a tree, grab a fallen branch, and savagely swing it in the air.

  “So that’s how you want to play, is it?”

  He barrels toward me, and I brace myself, and then he’s gone. I spin around. I can’t see him anywhere, and then he’s right behind me, his breath on my neck. I wheel around screaming and swing the branch again. The branch splinters against his massive hand.

  I turn and run, arms outstretched, frantically grabbing for twigs. The trees have aligned themselves with Fallon and are unwilling to give up even one branch. My foot catches on a root, and I plunge to the ground. Fallon grabs onto my legs. I claw at the earth, clinging to the bits of grass and weeds poking through the snow as he drags me toward him.

  I try to twist around and kick my way free. I can’t believe it’s happening again. Just like in the alley. But Fallon is even stronger.

  “I told Ellis he couldn’t trust you,” Fallon says. “I told Margaret she couldn’t trust Ellis. I should have been the one watching you. But they didn’t listen. And now what are we going to do? Now it’s going to be messy and complicated.”

  “Ellis would never hurt me. Wait till he finds out that you’ve been following me, taking pictures of me and all those other women.”

  Fallon stops. He lets go of my ankles, and I pull them back in, wrapping my arms around my knees, shielding my body from him. Fallon crouches beside me, his face inches from mine.

  “Oh, really? Has that brother of mine been filling you with promises of love and ever after?”

  “Brother?” I am stunned.

  “You mean in all your conversations, Ellis failed to mention his family?”

  “You’re not his brother. You’re lying. His family lives out west.”

  Fallon howls with laughter. “Yes, I suppose ‘out west’ is fairly accurate.”

  Bile rises in my throat. I scream, clenching my stomach. This time the pain is more intense than ever.

  “Shut up!” he yells, yanking me upright and dragging me behind him.

  I’m surprised my body is still intact. Something surely has taken hold of my insides and is slicing them into pieces. My eyes blur. I bend over in agony.

  “Hurry up—shit!” Fallon stops moving. He stares at the ground, his eyes wide, his mouth gaping. I look down too. There on the trampled white snow is a trail of blood.

  CHAPTER 13

  Fallon lets go of my arm, and I slump to the ground. It’s wet between my legs, like a heavy period. He lifts me up into his arms and runs. I feel like I’m going to be sick. And then I do vomit, all over Fallon. He doesn’t even flinch. Still holding me tight against his chest, he opens the front door of Ellis’s house and lays me on the bed. I curl into a tight ball, sweat streaming down my face, my back, everywhere. The pain is unbearable.

  Holding his phone in one hand, he removes my coat with the other. Every time he touches me or moves me even slightly, it feels like hands are reaching inside me and ripping me apart.

  Fallon shouts into his phone. “She’s bleeding. Badly. Yes, a lot of pain. Okay. Just hurry up.”

  “Stop touching me. What did you do to me?” I push him away.

  “I didn’t do anything to you. You need to calm down.”

  “You grabbed me. You cut me.”

  “Listen, Kalli. I know it hurts.” His voice softens. “I know you’re scared. But I didn’t cut you. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re bleeding, and I’m going to try and make it stop.”

  “You killed all those women. I know you did,” I moan.

  “You need to be quiet. I didn’t kill anyone.” He ransacks the kitchen, yanking cupboards open in a frenzy.

  “What the hell?” Ellis is back. “Fallon, what are you doing? Kalli? What’s wrong?”

  “Back off, Ellis. She’s bleeding. I need to stop the—Dammit! Don’t you have any supplies?”

  “Bleeding? What did you do to her?”

  “He cut me,” I yell. “He has pictures of me. He’s been following me. Ellis, help me!”

  Ellis charges at Fallon. Fallon grabs Ellis around the neck and shoves him against the island.

  “She’s bleeding, you idiot. You know what that could mean. Now where the hell is the demerodine?” says Fallon.

  I look at Ellis. His face is ashen as he slumps down to the floor, his hands resting on
the top of his head.

  “Get up and help me, Ellis. I need towels, blankets, something to stop the bleeding. Now, Ellis! Do you want her to live?”

  My vision drifts in and out. I see shadows fly across the room. I hear bursts of anguished voices yelling things like, “Here it is,” “Hurry up,” “too late,” and “so much blood.” And a voice saturated in sorrow crying out, “Save the baby!” is the last thing I hear.

  “Kaaa-leee, Kaaa-leeee.”

  I hover underwater, just below the surface, and through the ripple of waves I see a vaguely familiar face. I reach out and touch it, but the face becomes distorted and frightening. The water feels warm and welcoming, so I sink deeper, and as I do, the face above me convulses and moves closer to me. I submerge myself to escape, but suddenly I’m pulled to the surface, choking and spluttering.

  “Kalli. Wake up. Kalli.”

  Someone’s calling my name. Hands are gently shaking me, but I can’t open my eyes. It’s as if they have decided to remain shut.

  “Kalli, please.” The voice is full of sadness. I know that voice, and I don’t want him to be sad.

  “Ellis,” I whisper, as I unlock my eyes. I’m lying on Ellis’s bed.

  He strokes my forehead, the feel of his soft hands soothing against my skin.

  “Ellis,” I say again.

  “Yes, sweetheart, it’s me. I’m right here.”

  Sweetheart. I like it when he calls me sweetheart.

  “She’ll be here soon. Do what you’re going to do and do it fast.”

  The instant I hear Fallon’s voice, my body trembles. Then I remember the reason for the rising terror inside me. “Ellis,” I say, my lips barely moving. “We have to get out of here. We have to go, right now!”

  “We will, but I need to explain some things to you first.” He’s speaking unbearably slowly. I shake my head. “No. Must leave now,” I hiss, as I try to get out of bed.

  My body feels bruised. But we have to get out of here.