I scooted backward away from him. My head was throbbing, the entire left side of my face was on fire.
I said, “You kil ed Tom.”
“Yes.”
“Because you were running drugs. Or trying to. And he found out.”
He put his head to one side. “You are nearly right. He didn’t find out. But I think he probably would have. Mostly I kil ed him because he pissed me off.”
I think that was when I final y realized just how stupid I had been.
To accuse him. What had I thought? That he’d applaud my amazing insight and then let me go?
“The drugs are gone now, of course. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To search for proof. I thought you might come, but you’re too late.
We moved them a couple of days ago. The people I’ve been working with weren’t thril ed with me, but they understood the need for a change of plan, after Tom’s death and the possibility of a police investigation. Although, you know, Laura, I don’t think it was necessary? I think I could have kept the drugs onboard and brought them back to Virginia whenever it suited me. It would have been easy. Everyone’s accepted my story.” He leaned forward. His tone was comfortable, conversational. I should have run. Maybe I could have gotten away if I’d run right then. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. It was like I was hypnotized by him as he talked and talked.
“If I were you, I would be real y offended. People who haven’t even met you are very wil ing to accept that you are a dirty little slut, and they are eager to believe that Tom was a naive, heartbroken idiot. Tom’s parents are so desperate to avoid the so-cal ed truth about his suicide leaking out that they just want to get him home and bury him and sweep the whole sad story about his summer romance under the rug.”
Mike stood up and crossed to me. He knelt beside me, quite casual y, and then he reached out his hands, put them around my neck, and started to choke me. I lashed out, tried to scratch him, gouge his eyes. He let go of my neck and I gasped for breath, but then he pul ed me down until I was lying flat, straddled my body and knelt on my arms so that I couldn’t move them, couldn’t fight him. He started to strangle me again. He was so much stronger than me.
There was absolutely nothing I could do to stop him.
He strangled me until I lost consciousness. When I woke up he was sitting beside me, looking down at me. “I could kil you,” he said.
“Quite easily. I could take your body out to sea and dump you and no one would ever find you. But then, there might be questions, I suppose. Two deaths in such a short period of time, even if one of them is just little old you, might be problematic, even for the cops. So maybe I won’t. I haven’t decided.”
I cried. For the first time since Tom died I just lay there and cried, and it wasn’t because he was dead but because I was afraid for myself. I didn’t try to fight back or run away or even say anything. I’m so pathetic. I fucking hate myself right now. Mike looked at me with disgust. I was so sure he was going to kil me and just as sure that I couldn’t do anything to stop what was about to happen. I was so afraid, I . . . oh God, I peed my pants. He didn’t like that at al . He hit me again, told me to clean myself up and kicked me until I started moving. He talked as I scrubbed and cried. He blamed everything on his father, said his father had made a bad investment and nearly lost al their money and wanted Mike to give them his apartment and his car. For a moment Mike sounded genuinely upset.
When I had cleaned up he made me take a shower, and then he held me down and he . . . I don’t want to write the words. I don’t want to. If I do, it makes it real.
But I can stil feel the pain of it. Everything hurts, so much. The worst is this feeling inside my head. I don’t know how I’m ever going to get it out. You can’t clean inside your brain. How can I stop this feeling?
Maybe if I get drunk. Oblivion. I would do it if I could feel safe, but I’m not safe now. He might come back.
He raped me. He used a condom. He made me shower a second time. Then he told me I could go. He promised he’l kil me if I ever talk to the police again, or one of his drug-running friends wil kil me.
He told me exactly how. I believe him. I think he wants to do it. I think he’s just biding his time.
Hannah
NINE
THURSDAY, AUGUST 29, 2019
They found a café that served an al -day breakfast. Sean ordered a breakfast burrito, Hannah a Cajun chicken sandwich, and then they waited, while Hannah thought about how hungry she was. She couldn’t remember if she’d eaten breakfast. The food came quickly, and it was real y good.