End of Eternity 3 Page 12

“I’m safe right now. I’m staying at my sister’s cabin out in the mountains of Pennsylvania. I’m not even in New York.”

  “Thank god. Stay away as long as you can, and let me take care of this guy. I’m going to call the cops and alert them that you’re in danger, and tell them everything I know. Just don’t come home. Don’t put yourself within a hundred-mile radius of this guy. I’m serious, doll.”

  “Lauren,” I say breathlessly. “God, you’re scaring me. What did you find?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  Owen stirs beside me, and he realizes that I’m talking on the phone. “No,” he tells me, swatting at the phone drunkenly. “Don’t talk to him, Carm. He’s a bad guy. Just relax and sleep with me. Be happy and drunk with me in the pretty forest.” A sleepy smile takes over his face.

  I shake my head in both shame and adoration. “No,” I tell Laurie softly. “I don’t think I should know. It might make me want to go back to New York and try harder to stop him.”

  “Well, doll. On the bright side, my information might make it easier for you to stop him. I think that if we use what I’ve got, we can put him behind bars. But I don’t need you to help me right now—I need you to stay safe. I can get this started on my own, if you want?”

  I run over the options in my mind. Do I need to take him down myself? Is it okay if someone else does it? I look down at Owen, and think about his feelings. He’s strictly forbidden me from communicating with Brad, and while I do think he has my best interests at heart, I also think it’s important to finish what I’ve started.

  “Let me sleep on it, Laurie,” I tell her softly. “I don’t know what to do. Let me give you an answer in the morning.”

  “Okay, doll. Call me whenever you can. I’ll be waiting.”

  Hanging up the phone, I am surprised that Brad didn’t manage to call three or four times while I was talking to Laurie. I put the phone aside, and move back to lie down beside Owen. I reach up to gently trace his jaw with my fingers. He catches my fingers in his hand, and kisses them. His eyes snap open, and he smiles at me.

  “You’re beautiful, Carm.”

  “So is your girlfriend,” I tell him softly.

  He yawns and stretches. “I broke up with her, remember?”

  “Owen. You’re not being real with me. It’s scaring me. Am I just a momentary fling to you?”

  He lifts himself up onto his elbow and stares at me in the dark. “You really don’t know, do you?”

  “No,” I whisper. “I don’t know anything.”

  “Haven’t we been really happy these past few days?” he asks me.

  “Yeah. But that doesn’t mean you’re not going to go back to her.”

  Owen chuckles softly, sliding over me so that his body is positioned directly on top of mine. “You’re a stupid girl, Carmen.” He places little butterfly kisses along my collarbone and up my neck, before moving to kiss me directly on the lips.

  It’s funny how he calls me stupid, but at the same time, it sounds like he’s telling me that I’m his favorite person on the planet. I guess we’re all pretty stupid, in our own particular ways. The magic of life is finding someone whose stupidity is somehow comforting and endearing.

  As Owen drunkenly kisses me, I wrap my arms around his neck. “Hey,” I say softly. “I think I’m ready.”

  He looks at me with sudden fear. “Are you sure? No way. You’re just saying that because of what Caroline did.”

  “No, Owen. I’ve wanted you so badly, for so long. I just can’t take it anymore. All the waiting. Will you please just…?”

  “You’re supposed to wait until your six-week postpartum checkup,” he whispers. “They have to examine you to make sure that you won’t get any infections or anything.”

  “Well, why don’t you give me my postpartum checkup?” I suggest in a naughty tone, sliding my hands down into the waistband of his pants. “Let’s play doctor.”

  “Carm,” he says hoarsely, letting his forehead fall against mine with a groan. “I am really drunk right now, and I don’t trust myself. I’m not going to let this be our first time. Caroline just showed up and—I’m a mess. I could hurt you.”

  “Owen, I’m fine. I was mostly fine even when that stuff with Brad happened—it only hurt because I was scared, and completely dry, and he was so rough. I didn’t want it to happen at all, but I want this to happen. With you.”

  Moving off me and falling to the side, Owen takes several deep breaths. “Carm,” he says quietly. “You always remember your first time with someone. I don’t want you to remember this night. This is not my best moment ever. I promise that I’ll make it up to you soon, okay? Now c’mere,” he says, stretching out his arm. “I want cuddles.”

  “Okay,” I say, trying to hide the hurt in my voice. I move to his side and rest my head on his shoulder. At first, this sexless relationship was novel and exciting, but now it just feels like he doesn’t really want me. It seems like all men insist on either being far too rough, or far too gentle. There is never anything in between.

  The truth is that I probably was asking for sex for the wrong reasons. I wanted reassurance that he wasn’t going to go back to Caroline, and I wanted him to give me pleasure to distract me from my anxiety with Brad. It doesn’t help that my little sister is in the next room with Liam, and I have been jealously listening to their bed creaking every night with their newly-engaged enthusiasm. Or it might be my sister’s newly-pregnant hormonal passion. Either way, they’re happy, secure, and in love. I’m not.

  I’m starting to feel like I might just be a phase to Owen. Just a passing fascination.

  I’m not completely sure, but part of me doesn’t want to find out.

  I think I want to jump off the ship before I can find out whether or not it’s going to sink.

  Because I’m in no condition to handle any sinking right now.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I am awoken by the sound of my phone ringing, and I rub my eyes to clear the fogginess away. My phone was on silent, so it had to be someone on my favorites list. I reach to the side, and I am surprised to see the name Dr. Leslie Howard written across my phone. Answering the phone, I try to suppress a yawn.

  “Hello?” I say sleepily.

  “Carmen,” says a woman’s frantic voice. It is evident that she is crying. “Carmen, sweetie. You have to come home. It’s your dad.”

  “What’s going on, Leslie?” I say in surprise. My mind races, and I instinctively know that Brad has done something. “Was he… poisoned, or something like that?”

  “What? No, no. Sweetie… there was a fire. At your house. A really bad fire, and he was inside. I just got here in time. They took him to the hospital.”

  “A fire?” I repeat in shock, bringing my hand to cover my lips. “Leslie, is he…”

  “He was badly burned, sweetie. But I’m more worried about the smoke inhalation. You know his lungs and his heart aren’t that strong in the first place…”

  My head is spinning and it’s difficult to concentrate on what Dr. Howard is saying.

  Brad did this.

  I know he did.

  My mind clears enough that I can process that Leslie is crying softly and speaking in a frantic tone. “…since dinner the other night. We were just starting to find each other again. I haven’t felt this way about anyone since… since, oh god. I must sound like a stupid old fool.”

  “I’m coming home, Leslie,” I tell her tearfully. “Please stay with my dad. Let him know he’s not alone. Tell him that I love him. And that Helen does too!”

  “He knows, sweetie. He knows.”

  Hanging up the phone, I press my palms into my eyes and try my best to avoid bawling like a baby. “Owen,” I say hoarsely, in a voice that is barely a squawk. “Owen.”

  He doesn’t respond. I reach out to shake his shoulder gently.

  “Owen? Please wake up.”

  He groans at me in response, obviously still hung over.

  “I need you, Ow
en. Please.”

  Grunting, he turns away from me. “Five more minutes.”

  I press both of my hands against my face, trying to keep my emotion from exploding in some kind of violent outburst. This is it. This is the only thing worse than a murdering rapist: a lazy man-child. Taking a deep breath, I climb off the bed and grab my purse and car keys. I don’t bother changing out of the pajama-dress I’ve been sleeping in as I stumble out of the bedroom. I move toward Helen’s door, and my hand is poised to knock when I pause.

  No. I’m not going to drag her into this. He’ll hurt her too.

  Turning on my heel and running to my car, I don’t even bother stopping to put shoes on. I don’t even remember jumping into the driver’s seat and starting the engine as I blasted back in the direction from which we came. I don’t even remember programming my home address into the GPS. I didn’t even bother to put my seatbelt on for at least thirty minutes, because my body was so tense that I couldn’t focus on anything other than driving. The frenzied beeping of my car finally reaches my brain and convinces me to grab the belt and fasten it.

  Racing down the highway, everything is a blur. The cars speed by me, and they are all going backwards. I am crying uncontrollably, and I vaguely remember Helen’s description of how she felt right before she crashed.

  But I am not my fucking sister.

  Reaching into my purse, which sits in the passenger side of the car, I reach for my phone and dial Lauren. I must be driving a hundred and twenty miles per hour, but who really cares? Lauren answers, and I am so livid that I begin speaking before she can even say hello.

  “I think the bastard just tried to kill my father. Tell me everything you found.”

  Lauren pauses before speaking. “Okay, Carm. I’m so sorry, doll. Okay. So, the reason I couldn’t get anything is because his name isn’t actually Brad. I know you mentioned something about this to me a while back, but I never thought to look into it.”

  “What did you find?” I demand, through gritted teeth.

  “He’s not actually that smart, Carmen. I was having him followed, and I realized that the guys he was working with weren’t calling him Brad. They were calling him Branko, which I found out is a nickname for Branislav. He’s a wanted fugitive under his real name, Dmitri B. Petrov. Carmen, are you listening to this? He’s wanted by the FBI! For all kinds of things. Assault, robbery, rape, drugs, weapons, arson.”

  “Arson?” I whisper.

  “Yeah! I don’t know how he’s managed to get away with it all this time,” Lauren says. “All your work is done for you. We just have to turn him in. That should be easy, right?”

  “Right,” I say softly. “But no. He just tried to burn my father alive, Lauren. I’m going to have to deal with him myself.”

  “Carmen, no! What are you going to do? Carmen? What are you going to do!”

  I hang up the phone and keep driving. At these speeds, it helps to have both hands on the wheel.

  I drive for another half an hour before my phone rings. I expect it to be Brad, but it’s actually Owen. I think for a moment about what I’m going to say. I know that I can’t tell him the truth and risk involving him and my sister. I know that in order to protect him, I have to make him angry at me. So angry that he won’t want to see me or talk to me for a while.

  If I can scare him away, then it won’t hurt him so much if something happens to me.

  Taking a deep breath, I answer the phone.

  “Carm?” he says with concern. “Where the hell are you? I woke up and you were gone. Your purse, your keys, your car…”

  “You wanted five more minutes,” I say in a disgusted tone.

  “What?” he asks in confusion. “Carm…”

  “I’m done with this, Owen. It was fun while it lasted, but you can stop pretending to be broken up with your girlfriend now. You played hard to get, and you won. You got what you wanted. She proposed to you and humiliated herself. For god’s sake, just go back to her.”

  “Carmen, where the hell is this coming from? Did I say or do something to offend you last night? Was it when I was drunk? Please, tell me I didn’t. I couldn’t live with myself if I ever did anything to hurt you. Nothing could make me hurt you.”

  “I’m going home, Owen. I’m going back to Brad. I’m going to finish what I started. You should go back to Caroline. It’s over between us.”

  “Carmen? Fuck! Are you serious? What the hell?”

  I hang up the phone and shut my eyes tightly for a second. Unfortunately, I can’t keep them closed for long or I’ll crash. I smash my hand onto my dashboard a few times in anger and regret. I probably just lost my one chance at happiness. But I needed to do this. Because from now on, my focus is Brad.

  I’m not going to sleep until he gets what he deserves.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I am not sure why I didn’t decide to drive directly to the hospital to visit my dad. Something was calling me to the scene of the crime, so I drove directly home to my house. Now, stepping out of my car, I can see that the entire house hasn’t burned down completely to ashes like I expected. I suppose that would have been an impressive feat, considering the size of the mansion and the quick response time of the local fire department. No, it was only the corner directly below my father’s bedroom, and about a quarter of the structure that looks ravaged and charred. The positioning of the fire makes my stomach churn with nausea, because it is so obvious that this was a deliberate attempt on my father’s life.

  This was a message to me.

  I wouldn’t pick up my phone or respond to Brad’s text messages, and he decided that this was the only way he could reach me. The flames have subsided, but the house is black and sections of the walls have caved in. Smoke is still wafting up from the wreckage, and ashes are floating all around me like snow.

  I find myself drawn to the damage, walking toward the house in a slow daze. My bare feet pad against the cobblestoned driveway with an empty sound. This was my childhood home, where I’ve lived for all my life. The last few years have not been kind, but this was a grand home. It is sacrilegious that Brad has taken yet another precious part of my world. How can there be any more to lose? How can I feel a single morsel more of anger, or be consumed by any more grief?

  As I move closer, I see a figure standing below the house and looking up at the embers with something akin to pride. I knew he would be here. I knew that he was the type of criminal who couldn’t resist coming back to the scene of the crime. There is police tape around the house for investigation, but I ignore this as I move to stand beside my enemy.

  Brad does not turn to look at me. Instead, he continues to stare at my crumbling house with his hands tucked away in the pockets of his expensive suit.

  I look at him with infinite disgust and fury. And a strange sort of fascination.

  I look back toward my house with pity, regret, and heartache. I can see that even though most of the house is intact, there has been plenty of damage done to our valuable paintings, sculptures, and priceless sentimental keepsakes that we have collected over the years. As I stand here, gazing upon the smoldering mess, I am able to achieve a certain modicum of clarity. It is violently clear to me, now more than ever before, that Brad has burned through the very fabric of our lives.

  I don’t want to turn him in to the FBI. There is no point.

  He’s taken everything from me. I will have no satisfaction from knowing that someone else is punishing him. It needs to be by my own hands.

  I need to shoot him. I need to find a gun and shoot him in his pretty, fucking face.

  I was soft and weak, and worst of all, slow. I should have done this sooner. Why did it take this long for me to finally be pushed to my breaking point?

  I have no clue, but I no longer need to find the answers to my questions. I must forgive myself for my miscalculations and inadequacies, because I was just a normal girl. I wasn’t ready for war. I wasn’t ready to be torn apart by this man. I wasn’t ready for him to tear apart my
insides. I wasn’t ready for him to tear apart my family. I wasn’t ready for him to tear apart my home.

  “Are you ready now?” Brad asks me, as if he can hear my thoughts.

  “Yes.”

  He takes a step closer to me, snaking his hand around my waist. He reaches into his blazer and pulls out something which he presses against my neck. It’s an extremely sharp, slender silver knife. I know that with a single motion, he could slice my neck open, and that would be the end of me.

  I don’t even care.

  Brad steps closer, and puts his lips against my ear. He whispers softly to me, and his voice mixes with the smoke and ashes on the wind:

  “Do I have your attention now, Carmen?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to come home with me?” he asks as he breathes on my neck. “And do as I say?”

  “Yes.”

  This is the fourth and final book in the End of Eternity series!

  Surrendering herself to the monster that has destroyed her family, Carmen follows his commands while secretly hoping for a moment when she can gain the upper hand. Having reached her final breaking point, she will take no more of watching her loved ones get hurt because of one depraved man’s psychotic behavior. Carmen takes matters into her own hands, and lies in wait for the second when she can make her move and end this.

  And she will end this: once and for all.

  In the meantime, Owen is hurt and confused by Carmen’s sudden rejection, and considers reconciling with his girlfriend Caroline and getting married to her. He realizes that things might have moved too quickly with Carmen, but he can’t seem to get her out of his mind as he tries to move on…

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