Love Lies Dying (40 page)

Thirty-seven

John woke, screaming.

“Bad dream?”

He looked to his left and found Zoe by his side. She smiled at him and patted his chest.

“Don’t worry, I’m here for you,” she said.

He was lying down.

Finally.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on getting his breathing under control as well as removing the images from the dream out of his head.

He could feel his heart beating.

At least I know it’s still in there,
he thought.

Then his mind wandered back to reality. He tried to process all the events of the last three days, but there were too many and he wasn’t thinking straight. He knew just two things: he had to get away from Zoe, and he had to hunt down and kill Fox.

But stay calm,
he thought.
Be on guard. Don’t push her too much. Reason with her. You know what she can be like now, how she can fly into rages. Tread softly.

John opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling of the church. The wood of the rafters looked old and charred, as if they had been burnt at some stage.

He turned his head from side to side. The pains in his neck were almost gone; only a dull stiffness remained. He looked up at the windows on both sides of the church and could see no sunlight shining through them, but it was light outside.

Okay, so it’s only midday. That gives me some time.

His eyes dropped down to the right as he noticed the glow.

There was a well-built fire in the fireplace.

Huh? In the middle of the day? It’s not even cold.

The heat from fire was quite intense. He could feel the warmth on his face and body, and he realised then that he was sweating.

He lifted his head to look around the church.

But as he did so, his headache began to return. Wanting to stay clear headed, he put his head back down, willing the pains in his mind to subside.

There was a strong almond smell in the air. He tried to work out what it was, but he couldn’t.

“How are you feeling?”

Turning to his left, he looked at Zoe.

She was smiling at him, her eyes showing a mix of sorrow and concern.

Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and John noticed that the bloodstains that had covered her were now gone. She had showered and cleaned herself up, and was wearing a white bathrobe.

Almost as if nothing had happened.

“Are you thirsty?” she asked.

He nodded his head.

“I’ll get you a drink as soon as I’ve finished this.”

Her eyes dropped to his side and she stepped back out of his sight.

John followed her. Lifting his head until she came back into view, he followed her eyes and looked down at his left arm.

He saw the gaping split where she had stabbed him.

His stomach churned as he looked at the long scar stretching along his whole arm. But it didn’t look as bad now. The bleeding had stopped and the wound looked as if it had been cleaned; there were no bloodstains around the gash.

And Zoe was sewing it shut.

She had almost completed the stitches, with just a couple of inches of wound to go.

John looked on passively, unable to believe that he was just sitting there watching someone sew up a wound that stretched from his shoulder to his wrist.

And there was no pain at all.

His whole arm was numb.

Her eyes lifted and met his.

“Sorry,” she smiled at him. “I got a bit carried away. I do that sometimes.”

John smiled back.

What else can I do?

Just be very careful…don’t trust her!

“You’re just lucky I could find this needle and thread,” she continued.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

“It’s not the proper thread,” she continued matter-of-factly. “I could only find some old fishing wire. But I sterilised it before I used it. So it should be okay.”

Fishing wire?
John thought.
My God! I’ve got to get out of here! Now!

John rested his head back down again and tried to work out a plan.

His left arm was numb and useless.  His right arm felt okay, although his shoulder was still sore from being handcuffed to the Jeep. His head ached slightly, but he could live with the headache, and his neck wasn’t as stiff as it had been. His chest and body felt good, no longer numb now he was lying down and untied from the chair. The feeling had even come back into his legs.

He could actually wriggle his toes once again.

And that was when he first realised he was naked.

Suddenly, panic gripped him. He tried to sit upright, but he couldn’t.

Rope was tied tightly across his chest and legs, stopping him from moving. He lifted his head and stared down at his body.

Naked.

And oiled.

He was tied to the old wooden table, pews on either side of him. Thin coils of rope were wrapped around his chest and hips, and then disappeared under the table. Another two coils were tied above and below his knees. His eyes travelled further down his body to his feet, which were both tied to a long metal bar that sat between them, keeping them a set distance apart.

He tried to struggle; to sit up any way he could.

But it was useless.

He couldn’t move.

“Don’t, Johnny,” Zoe said, still concentrating on finishing her stitches, a frown creasing her forehead. “I’m almost there. Don’t ruin it now.”

John let his body go limp and he rested his head back on the hard wooden table.

She’s crazy,
he thought to himself.
How can she talk to me like there’s nothing wrong? Like we’re having a normal everyday conversation?

He had to get away from her.

“There,” she said, touching his palm lightly. “All done.”

John craned his neck and looked down at his left arm. The jagged wound was sewn shut now. The fishing wire snaked back and forth across the puffy red lips of the gash and finished in a small knot down by his wrist.

“It should hold,” she said.

“Should?” was all John could manage.

“Lucky I had a friend who taught me how to do that, huh?” Zoe beamed at him. “I think I’ve done a terrific job.”

John’s eyes moved back to his shoulder. He wanted to see what she had done to the stab wound she had inflicted there, but it was covered by some gauze and a bandage.

“Don’t worry, Johnny,” she continued. “I took care of that too. It was quite a mess, but I fixed it all. Lucky you were unconscious. It was probably easier that way. There was a hell of a lot of blood.”

His eyes went back to her face.

She was smiling again.

How can she smile at me?

“I’ll get you that drink now.”

She walked past his head and disappeared from view. John’s eyes went back to the ceiling and he tried to turn his body to the side, to somehow wriggle out from the ropes. But he couldn’t. They were tied too tight. Any movements he made just aggravated the wound on his chest. The ropes ran directly across the claw marks Zoe had left there on Saturday night.

And now that the numbness was gone, he could feel every bit of pain.

There has to be a way out of here!

John heard the water spill into a glass behind him. He closed his eyes and listened as Zoe’s footsteps came closer.

“Here, drink,” she said.

He felt her hand under his head as she lifted him toward the glass. His lips touched the cold rim and then tasted the cool refreshing water. He found it hard to swallow at first, as if his neck muscles wouldn’t work. It took him a few tries, but eventually he emptied the glass.

“Good boy,” she replied.

John licked his lips and swallowed. The dryness in his throat was almost gone. He opened his eyes and saw her face upside down above him. She smiled at him once more. He tried to read what she was thinking, but he couldn’t work it out.

This can’t be happening,
he thought.

Dangling from her neck was the gold half-heart pendant.

And that brought it all back to John.

He knew what was happening. And he seemed unable to do
anything
about it.

He shut his eyes tight, wanting to wish her away. But he knew it wouldn’t work.

Helen, what did he do to you? How long did Fox torture you? How much pain did you endure while he hurt you?

But John pushed those thoughts aside. He had to. He had his own problems now. As if trying to avenge Helen’s death wasn’t enough, he now had a love-sick and unbalanced Zoe to contend with.

Now she thought he was hers forever.

She’s mad. Completely mad.

Don’t pretend you don’t like the idea.

I don’t.

Come on, imagine it. Zoe with you, by your side.

Stop it.

She’d be all yours.

No!

Ready…and willing.

Stop it.

That’s what you were thinking about when you took her shopping on Saturday.

No, it wasn’t.

Now she’s all yours.

Shut up!

John opened his eyes again, hoping the light would shatter his thoughts.

He looked around for Zoe, but he couldn’t see her.

He sharpened his listening, trying to pinpoint her with sound.

Nothing.

It’s so hot in here.

His eyes scanned the fireplace once more. The fire was still roaring, spreading its heat throughout the church, the wood crackling every so often in the silence.

Beads of sweat continued trickling down his forehead.

He realised the almond smell came from the oil massaged into his skin.

He tried to move his right arm, but it was pinned under the ropes by his side. He pulled his feet to one side, trying to work them out of the ropes, but the bar between his ankles made movement almost impossible.

I’m trapped.

He didn’t want to give in, but there was little he could do in his current situation.

Play her at her own game, go along with her. Maybe she’ll trust you then and let you go.

Yeah, maybe.

And you might even enjoy it a little.

Stop it! Stop saying that!

You know you want to.

Helen’s dead, I can’t think like this.

She’s dead, yeah.

I can’t think like this!

She’s out of the way now.

John shook his head from side to side. Trying hard to shake the thoughts from his mind.

She’s out of the way. And you might enjoy it.

“Zoe!” he yelled, his voice sounding panicked as it echoed around the church.

He heard her footsteps ringing out on the floorboards. They sounded loud now, louder than ever, and were coming from the direction of the bathroom.

He turned his head to the side and to the back, towards her footsteps. He watched her as she approached.

His jaw dropped as she stopped in the middle of the church.

She was almost naked, but she wasn’t.

John stared at the outfit she was wearing. It was made of black leather, what there was of it, and it made her look as if she were wearing a large spider’s web. The leather straps went over her shoulders and under her arms, as well as around her hips. But between the straps was mostly bare skin.

Strips of leather ran across and under her breasts, pushing them out and upwards, making them rounder and more compact.

A circular piece of leather surrounded her belly button, highlighting it and  making the diamond sitting there look like a bullseye. John couldn’t help staring there, the leather circle drew his attention to the centre of her stomach, exactly as it was supposed to.

And then his eyes dropped lower.

Two thin strands of leather ran from the circular belly button section and down between her legs.

It left her exposed. Her shaved mound open and easily viewable from where John lay.

She was much taller now too, due to the eight inch black leather stiletto-heeled boots she was wearing.

John followed the boots from the ground and up her legs.