{Dedicated to @tic_tac_toe_ }
***
Trevor.
The name felt like a weight on my chest, a constant reminder of the terror that had shattered my life. Trevor was the man who had taken my father and grandmother, fueled by a twisted vendetta because my dad had "stolen" his wife's heart. Now, he wanted to finish what he started, and I was at the top of his list.
I could feel the sharp edge of the knife pressed against my back, the cold steel moving in a way that made my skin crawl. Trevor's grip around my neck tightened, each breath I took feeling shallower, as if he were trying to squeeze the life out of me. I swallowed hard, trying to convince myself that everything would be fine, that I'd wake up from this nightmare at any moment.
"What do you want?" I forced the words out, trying to steady my shaking voice despite the panic bubbling inside me. I shifted uncomfortably, the hardwood floor digging into my knees.
"Simple. I want you all dead," Trevor replied, his tone casual as if we were discussing the weather. I let out a sigh, the words echoing in my mind like a morbid mantra, wishing it could all be a bad dream that I could shake off.
It's going to be fine. It's going to be fine. It's going to be fine.
Except it wasn't.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to wake up. But the warmth of the blood rushing through my veins reminded me that this was all too real. "You thought you could keep running away from me? You and your mother are stupid pieces of shit," Trevor spat, the muscles in my body tensing with every taunt.
I felt the knife disappear, replaced by something colder, heavierâa gun. "I'm ready to shoot," he said in a sing-song voice that made my stomach churn. "Are you ready to say bye-bye to your life?" His tone was mocking, as if I were a child playing a game.
"I'll be pulling the trigger. Be ready in three... two..." My heart raced, the finality of his words crashing down on me. "One..."
In that split second, regret washed over me like a tidal wave. I thought of Cayden, of the things I had said, the fights we had. The weight of my decisions hung heavily in the air.
I closed my eyes, bracing for the end, when suddenly, my phone rang.
I blinked, startled, and Trevor groaned in annoyance. "What now?" he hissed, loosening his grip just a fraction. It was my phoneâthe one I had left on the counter. I'd told Amelia to call me when she arrived. Maybe she was here.
Oh, dear God.
Knocking echoed through the house. "Hailey!" Amelia shouted, her voice a lifeline in the chaos.
"You scream, and I'll pull the fucking trigger," Trevor warned, his breath hot against my ear. I stayed silent, tears pooling in my eyes, blurring my vision.
"Just please, let me go," I whispered, my voice cracking. The tears finally escaped, trailing down my cheeks as I begged him to leave me alone.
"Hailey!" Amelia shouted again, her urgency slicing through the tension. "I'm coming in!"
Panic surged through me. I had forgotten that the front door was unlocked.
"Shit," Trevor muttered, his grip tightening as he began to move. I could feel the barrel of his gun pressing against my leg.
"Where are you?" Amelia shouted, still in the hallway.
"Please don't come in!" I mouthed, hoping Amelia would understand. When she didn't respond, I quickly gestured to her, pretending to scratch my face, bringing my index finger to my mouth in a silent plea for her to be quiet.
"Hailey?" she asked, a puzzled look crossing her face. I shook my head slowly, closing my eyes tightly. Help me! I mouthed again, pointing to the floor, praying Trevor wouldn't see what I was doing.
Amelia glanced down and her eyes widened as she spotted Trevor's leg just beyond the edge of the kitchen island.
Oh my God.
"Would you like some pizza?" Amelia asked, winking at me. I nodded, grateful for her cleverness, and she added, "Alright, I'll just make a phone call."
She turned to leave the kitchen just as Trevor's grip relaxed slightly. I felt him shift behind me, readying himself for whatever came next. I longed to run, to escape, but the weight of the gun against my leg held me in place.
"Hailey?!" Amelia shouted again, her voice echoing in the hallway. I glanced back, catching a glimpse of her just as Trevor's fist connected with my stomach, knocking the air from my lungs. I crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath.
Gunshots rang out behind me, and my heart sank. The sound of chaos filled the air, and in a moment of panic, Trevor knocked me out cold, plunging me into darkness.
***
I woke to the icy sensation of water splashing across my face, the cold soaking through my clothes. I cursed inwardly; my favorite white hoodie was ruined. Pain shot through my stomach and hip as I tried to sit up, only to see Trevor standing above me, a sick smile plastered across his face.
"Nice to see you suffering," he said, wielding a baseball bat in one hand. He circled me like a predator, inspecting his prey.
"But don't worry," he continued, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "I won't kill you instantly. I know how much you love your life."
I wanted to scream, to tell him to just end it already, but all I could do was glare at him, each second dragging on painfully.
"But I didn't say I wouldn't kill you. I'm just going to do it slowly," he added, leaning in close enough that I could smell the rancid stench of his breath. "You'll feel every ounce of pain I've gone through."
"Leave my mom out of this," I snapped, my voice trembling. "If you want me dead, just kill me already."
He chuckled bitterly, stepping closer, and lifted my chin roughly. "It's sweet that you're volunteering, but that's not how this works," he sneered, letting go of my chin and checking his watch. "Your mother should arrive any minute now."
"You're a bastard," I shot back, my defiance rising even as fear gnawed at my insides.
He turned slowly, his expression darkening. "Say that again, and I won't think twice about killing you."
"Stupid bastard," I repeated, bracing myself for the inevitable blow. I had a moment of satisfaction when I saw his hand twitch, ready to strike, but just then, a phone rang.
"Thank the phone that saved your ass," he muttered, his annoyance clear as he stepped away to answer it.
I took the opportunity to look around, trying to find anything that might help me escape. The room was dim, gray walls closing in on me, and I noticed a rundown building outside the windowâanother abandoned structure. Why were there so many in America?
I thought of Amelia, of her courage, and my heart ached. I hoped she was okay, that she hadn't been shot. I looked down at my feet, bound tightly with knots. I regretted not paying attention during Girl Scouts when they taught us how to tie them. That skill might have come in handy now.
"Hailey?!"
My head snapped up, and my heart dropped as I saw my mom being dragged in by Trevor, her face bruised and battered. She looked like a ghost of her former self, lips swollen and eyes wide with fear.
Trevor stopped a few meters away from me, turning to my mom with a twisted smile. "This is going to be funâa little mother-daughter talk," he said, gesturing to his massive assistant, who handed him a chair for my mom.
"Here," he said sweetly, before bellowing, "Sit down, bitch!" The venom in his voice made me sick.
"Don't call my mom that!" I yelled, feeling a surge of anger.
"Hailey! Language!" my mom reprimanded, her voice shaky but firm.
Trevor glared at me, then turned to his assistant. "Do something." The hulking figure moved toward me, baseball bat in hand.
"Sorry, kid," he muttered, swinging the bat into my stomach. Pain erupted as I coughed, blood spilling from my mouth. I wished I had kept my mouth shut, but the defiance felt necessary, even now.
"Enough!" Trevor shouted, his frustration boiling over. "You know, even when you scream, no one will come to help you."
"So, now that everyone has settled down, let's play a little game of death," he said, the sick glee in his eyes sending chills down my spine. He glanced between my mom and me, his grin widening. "Whoever doesn't answer truthfully has a higher chance of getting killed."
I felt a rush of adrenaline mixed with dread. "Let's begin!" he exclaimed, looking at my mom. "Did you tell your husband to pay the doctor twice the amount for the surgery to get my wife's heart transferred to Arthur's mother?" He pointed the gun at her, and I felt my stomach drop.
My mother's face twisted in horror, her wide eyes pleading for mercy. "No," she said, her voice barely a whisper. I glanced at Trevor, silently praying he would lower the gun. But his gaze turned to me, the barrel of the gun now pressing against my forehead.
"You. Did you convince your father to get my wife's heart?" Trevor demanded, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down my spine.
His madness was palpable, radiating from him like heat. "Leave Hailey out of this. She doesn't know anything!" My mother's voice shook, desperation clawing at her words.
Trevor's glare fixed on her, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "Shut the fuck up! I'm not asking you!" He snapped, silencing her with a wave of his hand. My mom fell silent, the defiance crushed from her expression.
Trevor's focus returned to me, the gun unwavering, his finger itching near the trigger. "Answer me!" he screamed, his frustration boiling over.
"IâI don't know what the hell you're talking about!" I stammered, fear coursing through me like ice water.
"Wrong answer," he hissed, the madness in his eyes intensifying. I felt a cold wave of dread wash over me, and I instinctively closed my eyes, bracing for impact.
"Bye-bye," he sang, his voice dripping with malicious glee.
"Stop!"