used Dee’s birthday for your iCloud password.” His voice was calm, conversational, like they were sitting across from each other at lunch. The chair squeaked as Paul sat back. His knees pressed against the inside of her knees so that her legs were opened even more. “Are you scared, Liddie?” He pushed her legs wider.
Lydia had tensed every muscle in her body. The hood gripped the front of her face as she panted. They weren’t out in the open this time where anyone could come along and save her. They were isolated in a room that Paul had prepared ahead of time. He had her pinned to the chair. Her legs were spread open. He could take his time with her. He could do anything he wanted.
Paul said, “I’ve been tracking Claire with your Find My iPhone app.”
Lydia squeezed her eyes shut. She tried the Serenity Prayer, but she didn’t get past the first line. She could not accept this thing that she could not change. She was helpless. Claire was not going to save her from this. Paul was going to rape her.
“Claire was at your house. Do you know why Claire would be at your house?” Even now, he sounded curious, not angry. “Was she trying to warn Rick? Was she telling him that he needs to take Dee and hide?”
Lydia tried not to think about the question, because the answer was obvious: Claire hadn’t gone to Lydia’s house. She had gone next door to get help from Rick. It wasn’t enough for her to fuck up Lydia’s life, she had endangered Lydia’s family, too.
Paul seemed to read her thoughts. “Every year, I’ve watched Dee getting older and older.” He didn’t wait for a response. “Two more years and she’ll be Julia’s age.”
Please, Lydia thought. Please don’t say what I know you’re going to say.
Paul leaned forward. She could feel his breath against the hood. “I can’t wait to see what she tastes like.”
Lydia couldn’t stop the cry that came out of her mouth.
“You’re too easy, Liddie. You’ve always been too easy.” He kept pushing against her knees, then letting them go like they were playing a game. “I stayed at Auburn for you. I matched for grad school at MIT, but I stayed for you because I wanted to be with Julia Carroll’s sister.”
The band around the bottom of the hood soaked up Lydia’s tears.
“I watched you. God knows how long I watched you. But you were sloppy and drunk all the time. Your dorm room looked like a pigsty. You didn’t bathe. You were flunking out of your classes.” Paul sounded disgusted. “I was about to give up on you, but then Claire came to visit. Do you remember that? It was fall of ninety-six.”
Lydia remembered. Claire had visited the campus just after the Summer Olympics. Lydia was embarrassed because her sister was wearing a sweatshirt with Izzy, the stupid Atlanta mascot, on the front.
Paul said, “Claire practically glowed when she walked around the campus. She was so happy to be away from home.” His voice had changed again now that he was talking about Claire. “That’s when I knew that I could still have Julia Carroll’s sister.”
Lydia couldn’t contradict him, because they both knew that Claire had curled herself up into the palm of his hand.
Still, she tried, “She cheated on you.”
“I wouldn’t call it cheating.” He sounded unconcerned. “She fucked around. So what? I fucked around, too, but we always came back home to each other.”
Lydia knew Paul hadn’t just fucked around. She had seen the color-coded files. She had seen the murder room in the garage of the Fuller house. She knew that someone had sat behind the camera and zoomed in on the rapes and murders of countless young girls, just like she knew that that someone had to be Paul.
Was he going to finally cross the line into murderer? Was that why he had Lydia bound and hooded?
He said, “You know, the thing about Claire was that I couldn’t figure her out.” He laughed, like he was still surprised by the fact. “I never know what she’s really thinking. She never does the same thing twice. She’s impetuous. She has a hellacious temper. She can be crazy and passionate and funny. She’s made it obvious that she’s willing to try anything in bed, which takes all of the fun out of it, but sometimes holding back can be just as much of a game as letting go.”