You Will Be Mine

  He scoffs, and his posture hardens. "When you used to cry so much you could barely breathe, who was there for you? When you couldn't leave the house, who stayed in with you? When you cried yourself to sleep, who sat in your room with you? It was me, Lylah. All of it was me. Remember that."

  How long has Riley been sick? We lost our parents, and then I moved away. I was so messed up after their deaths, and Riley spent the whole time trying to make things better for me that I don't think ever grieved. Maybe when I moved away, he finally realized how much he'd lost.

  Has he been slowly unraveling since the day I left? I was so consumed with keeping myself in a good place, I didn't notice his struggles. He knew if I was having a hard day just from looking at me, and I had no idea how low he sunk.

  How could I not have known?

  "Riley, I'm so sorry I didn't see what's been going on. I should have. This is my fault too, and I'll help you put it right."

  I'm partly responsible for the monster he has become, and that guilt practically swallows me whole.

  "You couldn't see it. Your friends brainwashed you into thinking you're better off here. They don't know you, and they don't know what you've been through. I do."

  "I think we should call Detective Lina now," I say softly.

  "That's not part of the plan, Lylah!" he snaps.

  "I can't let you hurt anyone else."

  Riley's chest puffs out his chest. I purposefully didn't mention Chace by name, but Riley knows what I mean.

  He tilts his head to the side. "You think you love him."

  I know I love him.

  "How I feel about Chace has nothing to do with us. Riley, a person can have different relationships. You have friends outside of our family too."

  "Yes, but they're not more important than family."

  "Of course not, but that doesn't mean you can't have both. Why does it have to be all or nothing?"

  We're not going to get anywhere here. I'm not sure he's even capable of seeing the situation from another perspective.

  "I'll come home with you, Riley, but you have to stop this now. Leave Chace alone."

  His frame looms huge in this small room. Every time I say something he doesn't like, it feels as if he grows larger and more ominous.

  "You'll betray me. You'll come back for him. I have to get rid of the temptation for you."

  "No, I won't. I promise." If it means Chace would be safe, I would stay away. "This day is already horrible, Riley. There are enough hurtful memories for us to carry for the rest of our lives. Our parents died two years ago today. Let's not make it any worse. We can reunite our family permanently--me and you against the world."

  It's hard to believe that two years ago we became orphans. Riley was so caring and attentive. And now this.

  He drops his eyes as I mention our parents. It's like talking about them has gotten through to him. Maybe the brother I knew is not totally lost. His eyes flash, and then he's gone again.

  "I'll finish this, Lylah, and then we'll go home."

  "You're not hurting him!" I snap. "Let's just go. I'll leave my stuff behind and that can be that."

  His mouth splays in a wide grin. "I've missed my bossy baby sister. But you don't understand. The end has already begun."

  My heart misses a beat. "What? What do you mean?"

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his phone. "Chace is on his way."

  I step closer to him to try to grab the phone, as if by reflex. "No! Riley, no, please. Get what you need, and we'll go. Right now."

  "No."

  "Oh my God!" My voice is so loud, I don't recognize it. I shake my trembling hands. "You can't do this."

  "You really do love him," he mutters, turning up his nose. "Mom and Dad would hate who you've become."

  His words are excruciating. He may as well have taken a knife to my heart.

  There is no reasoning with him. I have to intercept Chace. Turning, I head toward the door, but Riley grabs my wrist before I get to the hallway.

  "Don't touch me!" I spin around. "What the hell happened to you, Riley? How is this you? How have you become this?"

  "Lylah!" Chace shouts my name from outside, and my heart drops.

  "Riley, please don't do this."

  The front door slams open against the wall.

  Chace stands in the doorway. His wide eyes are fixed on Riley, surprise on his face. "Riley?" he says, bewildered. His eyes flick to me for answers.

  "Because of you, I lost my sister. You need to pay."

  "You haven't lost me." I step closer to Riley, moving my body in between him and Chace. "Let Chace leave, and then we'll go."

  "There's no way you're going anywhere with him," Chace spits as he realizes what's happening.

  "Stay out of this." Riley waves his hand, and the light from the room glints off something he's holding.

  A knife.

  "Riley, no," I say, raising my hands in surrender. "Let's talk about this."

  "We'll talk when we get home, Lylah. I need to deal with your boyfriend."

  Deal with him. How did my life come to this?

  Chace isn't having it. "I'd like to see you try, man. We may have been scared of you when you were jumping out at us from the shadows, but I see you now. I won't let you hurt Lylah."

  "Don't even say her name!" Riley shouts. "You know nothing about us, about our life or our family. What do you even know about her past? You think you know her? You don't." Riley's hand tightens around the handle of the long blade, his knuckles turning white.

  "That's enough, Riley!" I desperately plead. "Just stop. We all need to calm down and sort this out."

  "That's what I'm trying to do," he replies, raising the knife.

  "Put that down, and listen to me," I say firmly. "There is no going back if you do this."

  "Do you think there is any going back after everything else he's done?" Chace asks, and I want to throttle him. He is not helping the situation. "The cops are going to arrest him. And I'm going to take you home. Sienna is losing her mind with worry."

  Riley's eyes darken. "How does Sienna know Lylah is here?"

  Chace takes a step forward, and that's when I hear cars outside screech to a halt. Lights flash outside. Chace told the cops. Doors open and footsteps thud toward us. We barely have time to react before the police storm the room.

  Riley is the first to move. He grabs my arm with his free hand and wrenches me against his chest as he pulls me backward into the room.

  My back presses against his chest. Something sharp press against my neck.

  The blade.

  I freeze. Riley has the knife against my neck.

  My own brother has a knife to my throat.

  The first face I recognize is Detective Lina's as I frantically scan the room. She looks calm and in control. She must have trained for these situations. I wish I had some of her steadiness. My heartbeat screams in my ears.

  Around her are five other officers and Detective Alexander. Three guns are pointing at my brother. I can see the small black hole where a bullet will fire from if the trigger is pulled.

  My heart thumps heavily.

  Detective Lina speaks. "Riley, I know you don't want to hurt your sister, so put down the knife, and we can talk."

  "Talk," he spits. "You don't want to talk. Back away all of you, or I'll shove this through her fucking neck!"

  I'm shaking. I feel my body rattle in Riley's arms. He wouldn't actually do that, would he? People are capable of unspeakable terrors when they are cornered, but Riley has always been my protector. Could he do that to me? Would he do that to me?

  "Riley...please," I whisper.

  "Shut up, Lylah. Just shut up!" His arm tightens, and metal digs into my skin to the point of pain. His breathing is heavy and ragged with rage. He acts like a wounded animal lashing out.

  "Okay, okay." Detective Lina raises her hands higher while Chace stares at me in horror. "We'll back up a little. But I know you don't want to do this. I know how much yo
u love your sister. She's all you've got."

  I squeeze my eyes shut. I don't have a brother anymore. He died the second he killed Jake.

  Detective Lina keeps her expression calm, like this is just another day in the office. "You don't have to do this, Riley. You have options."

  "Like going to prison. I don't think so."

  "Riley, think about this!" I beg. I would try to squirm away, but his grip is too tight. With the blade to my neck, there is no room to struggle.

  "I'm not going to prison. I'm not going to prison. I'm not going to prison," Riley chants. His voice is low and controlled. It doesn't sound like him, and a shiver runs through my body.

  I look at the detective who seems to be working out her next move. We all knew that the killer was a psychopath, but I think this is more than any of us anticipated.

  "I'm not going to prison!" Riley bellows. Spit flies from his mouth and wets my cheek. Suddenly, his arm moves quickly and the knife leaves my neck.

  I twist in his arms, hoping the distraction will be enough for me to slip away. But Riley snaps his arm forward and a blinding pain shoots through my body.

  He's plunged the knife into my stomach.

  Screaming, I stumble backward, holding the hilt of the blade that is sticking out of my stomach.

  What do I do?

  "Lylah!" Chace jumps forward to catch me as I stagger, and Detective Lina runs toward the door at the back of the hallway. Riley is gone.

  He's stabbed me. And left me here to bleed.

  I can't even process what's going on right now.

  Everything around me moves in slow motion. Chace's mouth is moving, but I can't hear what he is saying. Another cop crouches beside me but I can't focus on him either.

  I'm cold. Really, really cold.

  Am I dying?

  My legs turn to jelly, and I slump to the floor. Chace and the cop don't leave my side. The police officer holds the knife still, but he's not removing it.

  Chace takes my cheeks in his hands, his touch feather light. I open my mouth to tell him I love him. But I'm not sure if the words come out. All I can hear is my pulse working overtime, thrumming in my ears.

  The world is getting dark, as if someone is dimming the lights. I blink hard, but it doesn't help.

  Why is everyone so far away?

  I'm falling.

  My eyes close, and I know this is it.

  My brother has killed me.

  Epilogue

  One year later...

  February 14

  It's Valentine's Day. Again. Obviously, I like the holiday even less this year, despite the fact that Chace and I are deliriously happy together.

  We're a couple, but we've agreed we aren't celebrating the holiday. I don't think we'll ever celebrate it, and I don't think Chace is too upset about that.

  After I got out of the hospital, Chace, Sienna, and I rented a smaller place together. After our friends died, none of us could face getting new housemates or staying in a home we all once loved but that had brought so much heartache. Yeah, Sienna is stuck as a third wheel a lot, but she doesn't seem to mind.

  It's a long road to recovery, again, and although I still have a lot of bad days, and I haven't weaned off my anxiety medication fully yet, I'm doing better. I still can't sleep through the night, waking in cold sweats, expecting Riley to be standing over me. I can't get through a full lecture without thinking about what happened on campus. I can't close my eyes without seeing the wrong end of a gun. But having Chace beside me, supporting me, is some comfort.

  So there might still be plenty of things I can't do, but I can go on dates with Chace and not constantly look over my shoulder.

  He's safety.

  When we graduate, Chace and I plan on moving far away from here. I would have left already, but Chace and Sienna made me realize that running won't help. And I want my degree. I've worked hard for it. If I drop out, it will be my fault, not Riley's. And I won't let him take anything from me ever again.

  "Do you guys want to come out with us tonight?" Sienna asks.

  "No thanks," I reply a little too quickly. She gets it though. "Where are you going?" I ask her, trying to move past the moment.

  "Nathan is taking me out to dinner, then to a club. I initially said no, but he convinced me. It's time to build some new memories," she says.

  "Sienna, go and have a great night."

  "Thanks, Lylah. Last year was the worst time of my life, but I finally feel like I'm coming through the other side of the tunnel."

  Does the tunnel have an end? I feel like I'm constantly running toward it, only to find the tunnel stretches out again. I barely ever get a glimpse of light.

  "That's great, Sienna," Chace replies, sensing my unease.

  I'm happy for her. I truly am. But every time I hear how well someone is doing, it reminds me how much I have struggled.

  "I'll see you guys later then," Sienna says. "I'm going shopping to find shoes to go with my dress."

  "Don't you already own all of the shoes in the world?" I tease.

  She playfully gives me the finger and heads toward the door. "The mail is on the side table, by the way. I didn't see anything that looks like a response from the film festival you submitted to, but you never know," she shouts back at us. Then the front door slams. I can't help but breathe a sigh of relief that she's gone. Some days it is so hard to be around people who are happy.

  Chace look at me tenderly. "Are you okay?"

  I run my finger along my stomach. My scar is just above my hipbone. It's about an inch long and has healed well. But it's a constant physical reminder of what's happened.

  "I just want to get through today."

  Leaning his forehead against mine, Chace pulls my hand away from my scar. "Tell me what you need."

  "A big order of Chinese takeout and a movie."

  Smiling, he presses his lips against mine. "Done. You pick the movie; I'll grab the mail and order our food."

  Chace walks to the front door with his phone in his hand, and I go through to the living room. I'm never going to celebrate this day. I didn't want to after it took my parents, and I certainly don't want to after everything that happened with Riley.

  My brother was caught half a mile from Baker Street. He's receiving the help he needs in a high-security psychiatric hospital, and this morning he was being transferred to another facility to continue his treatment. I can't bring myself to visit him yet, but his new hospital is closer, so when I'm ready it will be easier. My therapist agrees that it is still too soon. I may have healed physically, but emotionally, I still have a long way to go before I can face him again.

  Zak has been to visit Riley; he had a lot of questions about Jake. He asked if I wanted to know about their conversations, but I don't. Zak's family still hates us--Sarah especially--but Zak has forgiven me, and, somehow, he's forgiven Riley too. I'm so thankful for that. He's stronger than I am, and he's become a good friend to us all. And after losing so many friends, I need to hold on to the ones I have.

  I can hear Chace placing an order for our favorite dishes as I curl up on the sofa. I switch on the TV and scroll through what's streaming. Romantic or scary movies are completely out of the question, so I scroll through the list of action titles.

  Chace slowly shuffles into the room. I look up and my heart plummets at his pale, somber expression.

  "What is it?" I whisper.

  Beside me on the sofa, my phone flashes with Detective Lina's name. In the hallway, I hear the landline ring too.

  He holds out his hand. In it is a cream envelope. My name is printed neatly on the front. No address or stamp. Hand delivered.

  My mobile stops ringing, and Chace's starts.

  No.

  I take the envelope and pull out the note inside.

  Acknowledgments

  As always, there are a few people I need to thank.

  My husband, Joseph, without whom I wouldn't be able to achieve half of what I somehow manage to get done. Thank
you for being my rock, for cheering me on, and for making sure I have time and peace to write.

  My boys, Ashton and Remy, you two are absolutely everything. I hope you know how proud I am of you both and how much I love your love of books. But no, Ash, you can't read any of Mummy's just yet!

  Kirsty and Zoe, two of my favorite people in the book world. Thank you for your support encouragement in the form of words and GIFs!

  And my editor, Annette. This schedule has been a little full on, so thank you so much for everything you've done to make it as easy as possible for me.

  About the Author

  UK native Natasha Preston grew up in small villages and towns. She discovered her love of writing when she stumbled across an amateur writing site and uploaded her first story and hasn't looked back since. She enjoys writing NA romance, thrillers, gritty YA, and the occasional serial killer thriller.

  For more, visit Natasha at natashapreston.com or find her on Facebook, Twitter @natashavpreston, or Instagram @natashapreston5.

  Ready for another heart-pounding read from Natasha Preston?

  SEE IF YOU CAN ESCAPE THE CELLAR

  1

  Summer

  Saturday, July 24th (Present)

  Looking out my bedroom window, I'm faced with yet another dull English summer day. The heavy clouds made it look way too dark for July, but not even that was going to faze me. Tonight I was going to celebrate the end of the school year at a gig by a school band, and I was determined to have some fun.

  "Hey, what time are you leaving?" Lewis asked. He let himself into my room--as usual--and sat down on the bed. We'd been together over a year, so we were more than comfortable with each other now. Sometimes I missed the time when Lewis didn't tell me he was getting off the phone because he needed to pee or when he would pick up his dirty underwear before I came over. My mum was right: the longer you were with a man, the grosser they became. Still, I wouldn't change him. You're supposed to accept someone you love for who they were, so I accepted his messiness.

  I shrugged and studied my reflection in the mirror. My hair was boring, flat, and never looked right. I couldn't even pull off the messy look. No matter how "easy" the steps to the perfect bedhead look were in a magazine, I never could make it work. "In a minute. Do I look okay?"

  Apparently the most attractive thing was confidence. But what did you do if you weren't confident? That couldn't be faked without it being obvious. I wasn't model pretty or Playboy sexy, and I didn't have bucket loads of confidence. Basically, I was screwed and downright lucky that Lewis was so blind.