The Ahern Brothers Collection - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,84

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One

Abby

Fight. I tell myself as the car parks along the sidewalk.

We’re back where it all started. The old house is a gray blur behind the rain-washed window of the car. It’s smaller than I remember. Looking at it closer, I realized that nothing has changed. The color remains as vivid as it was six years ago. The paintwork on the trim is a darker gray, but still flawless, and the path that winds to a double oak front door is cracked. The porch is nothing more than a wooden box with the old rocking chair where grandma used to sit and knit while I played outside with my friends.

My heart sinks because this is the place where I met Peyton and we became such good friends. Each time she visited her grandmother, we’d play outside until her parents had to leave. My favorite visits were when her parents traveled. Peyton stayed for an entire weekend or the whole week. We’d have slumber parties or go to the drive-in movie theater.

I choke on a sob. She’s suffering because of me.

“Walk faster,” Shaun orders, opening the door that creaks as he pushes it.

My heart beats fast. Run, a voice begs me to move. I’m tempted to escape, but how far could I get before he shoots me? What would happen to Peyton if I couldn’t help her?

I could scream, but would anybody care? Ava and I tried that once. Every time a neighbor came to check on us, my mother would tell them I was unstable.

“Poor little Abigail Lyons. She’s losing her mind,” someone once said. “She’s been so different since her grandmother died.”

No one cared or ever wondered if I needed help.

No one will help you if you scream. Be careful. You might not be able to save Peyton if you do.

Then, how am I supposed to get out of the house while saving Peyton?

Use your head, Abby.

First, I need to make sure she’s all right. Then, I can call Wes and tell him where to find me. Did I hang up our call? Oh god, I wish he hadn’t left, but what if Shaun had killed Wes while he tried to save me? I feel sick to my stomach just imagining what could have happened to him if he had been close. When I cross the threshold, I heave with the combination of fear and musty stench that scratches my throat. The calming sweet-strawberry scent I remember is gone forever.

“Keep moving,” Shaun orders.

I almost lose my footing when he pushes me, but an old green couch next to the entrance breaks my fall. This feels surreal. I never thought I’d end up back here. For a second, I stand, my breathing suspended as I take in every piece of furniture and object. The leather couches Mom replaced when she moved in with me are gone, along with the ridiculous lamps she ordered from a custom store. They were tall, heavy, and I wish they were here so I could use one to hit Shaun.

“Where is Peyton?” I can’t do anything until I find out her whereabouts.

Corbin might have her somewhere else. I look at the white door that leads to the scariest room in this house. Is she in the basement?

“You’ll never know if she’s safe or not, Abigail. You’ll die not knowing if coming with me saved her or not,” he taunts me in a low voice.

Stupid, stupid, I chide myself. He won’t let you go. You’re going to die here, like Ava and your mother.

Run! Go now!

He grabs me from behind before I can make a run for it. I twist, but he yanks me to the stairs.

“You’ll fight me, won’t you?” His words sound hopeful. Sick bastard. “This is going to be the most fun I’ve had in years.”

I can’t help but gasp when we enter my old room. The furniture is gone, and in its place is a table with restrains. There’s a small couch in the middle of the bedroom and a couple of cameras right next to it with professional lights and filters for film.

“We had a deal. If I came with you, you’d let Peyton go.” I stand up to him.

He waves his gun. “Take off your sweatshirt and your shoes.”

“Kill me. Just do it.”

Shaun’s green eyes narrow; he lifts the gun. I hold my breath