“You took my things and hid them. You wanted to make me think I was going insane,” I say, searching my brain. “Valentina’s book? Your car keys?”
“You’re finally catching on,” he sneers, gathering the pills in his hand. With one hand gripping my chin and pulling down my lower jaw, he shoves the pills into my mouth and orders me to swallow.
Raising my head to meet his eyes, I spit the pills at him with as much force as I can and hurl the glass of water across the room, where it crashes against the wall. He wipes his face, glowering at me. A vein in his neck is throbbing dangerously.
“You bitch,” he says, grabbing a hunk of my hair and hauling me out of the chair.
I try to pull away, but his grasp is too tight, and he drags me across the floor. My scalp is hot, seared with pain. I manage to grab the leg of the bed, and Julian finally lets go. He looks down at me, his eyes narrowed in contempt, as I scramble up to stand.
“You.” He puts his hand on my chest and shoves me backward. “I should have gotten rid of you long ago. You were nothing but a cut-rate replacement for Cassandra.” He shoves me again until my back is against the wall. “You never deserved her name. She was everything to me. And she gave me Valentina. You could never measure up, Amelia.”
I frown at him.
“Yes. Amelia. That’s your real name. The dreams you had of people’s faces getting blown off? That was your family, Amelia. Your sick family, all of whom are dead now.” He spits out the words with malicious glee.
I’m dumbstruck. I search my mind for those memories, but to no avail. “What do you mean, she gave you Valentina? I thought Valentina was mine. What about Sonia?”
He laughs. “There was never any Sonia. And you’re not Valentina’s mother.”
“I don’t understand. I know she’s my child—I love her.”
Before I can think, Julian slams his fist into the wall, inches from my head. “I tried to help you forget, but did you appreciate it? No. You ran away from me. From Valentina. That’s how you repaid me for all I’ve done to help you. You ungrateful bitch.”
Julian’s eyes are crazed. If I don’t somehow temper his rage, he will try to kill me. “I’m sorry, Julian,” I say, bowing my head. “You’re right. I never should have left. I don’t know why I did it.” I raise my eyes to him. “I was so glad when you found me, Julian, and brought me back. Remember how happy we were when we danced together, the night of our anniversary?”
He looks confused for a moment, and I rush on. “You put the ring on my finger, and later, when we got home, I came to our room and we made love.” I want to shudder at the recollection of his hands on my body, but I try to keep my body language neutral.
He laughs and takes another step, his face just inches from mine now. “Very good, Amelia. I see you’ve learned something from all your years of therapy, but you should know better than to try and out analyze the analyst.” He lifts his hand to my chin and squeezes. “Face it, Amelia. You’re better off dead. Your brain has been damaged with trauma, drugs, and hypnosis.” He laughs again, his lips curling in disgust. “But you’ve been a great test subject, one that’s been enormously enlightening to me.” His hands move to my throat.
“Julian, please, let me go,” I beg as he tightens his grip. Then I ram my knee into his groin with all I’ve got.
He cries out in pain, doubling over. I run to the door, but before I can open it, he grabs the back of my nightgown and spins me around to face him. He’s grinning like a madman, spittle running down the sides of his chin. I beat against his chest with my fists, and when he grabs my wrists to stop me, I start kicking, but he’s too strong for me. I’m panting. The next thing I see is his giant fist coming at me. It hits my face with such force that I drop to the floor, banging my head on the night table as I fall. Every inch of my body is throbbing in pain, and I am losing hope. I scramble into a half-sitting position.
Julian stands over me, his legs on either side. “I tried to make this easy for you, but you had to make it difficult, didn’t you? Just like she did.”
Suddenly I remember the knife I hid in the nightstand. I need to stall him. “I’ll take the pills, Julian. Give them to me.”
He squints at me. “It’s too late, Amelia. No second chances for you.” He takes my arm and wrenches me to my feet. As I rise, I close my other hand around the drawer handle, pulling it open and grabbing the knife. Before he realizes what is happening, I’ve plunged the blade into his thigh. He lets go of me and falls to the floor, screaming and cursing as he rolls around. There is blood on the floor, lots of it, and I think I am going to vomit. Forcing myself to turn away, I run to the door, out of the bedroom, and to the stairs. When I look behind me, Julian is dragging himself along the floor, leaving a swath of blood in his wake. His face is engorged with rage, and his mouth is moving, but the thundering in my ears is so loud that I can’t hear the words he’s screaming. I spring down the steps, grabbing the banister for help when I lose my footing near the bottom. Looking back, I can see Julian on the landing, one hand clasped around his leg, the other gripping a spindle. My breath coming in ragged bursts, I run to the kitchen and seize the cordless phone, dialing 911 as I rush into the bathroom and lock the door. And then I wait.