Remind Me

Chapter Forty

"I don't want to be in the same room as you," I yell, backing up as far as I can against the wall.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, B," Ian says, walking up closer to me.

"I don't trust you," I say, voice shaking.

"B-"

"No! I want you out!" I yell louder now.

"You don't mean that," Ian tilts his head at me.

"I do," I nod my head. "I mean it."

My hands are shaking. I know he isn't here for nothing. No way. He followed me down to the basement and shut the door. There's no way that was for nothing. Nobody wants to chat in the basement. I know he wants to finish what he didn't get a chance to by pushing me out that window.

He's hardly ten feet away from me. I breathe deeply, trying to mentally prepare myself to run and try to protect myself. He's going to try to kill me.

"Listen to me," I point a finger in his direction. "Owen knows I'm down here. I told him I'm getting the batteries. He'll be down here any minute to see if I'm finding them alright."

"I'm not worried about Owen, B. I'm worried about you," Ian says, now hardly five feet away.

"Don't hurt me! Please!" I beg, tears filling my eyes.

"It won't hurt," Ian says, "At least, not for long."

"No!" I yell, tears spilling down my face. "Don't touch me!"

"I can't have you running around telling people what I've done. I won't go to jail. All it would take is one word out of your mouth and I'm gone. I don't want to take that risk," Ian says, not three feet away.

His hand reaches back in his pocket. When he brings it into sight, the shiny metal confirms my worst fear. Ian is holding a knife.

I gasp, knowing I need to do something now. I kick at him as hard as I possibly can. He let out a groan. I don't waste any time running to the stairway that leads up to the door. I have to get up there.

He has a knife. I'm going to die.

His hand wraps around my wrist before I can even get on the first step. He drags me backwards, his blade slicing my arm as I stumble. I let out a cry of pain, leaning against a wall to steady myself.

Ian's coming at me again, knife held out in front of him. I scream and dodge him just in time. He runs right into the wall and stumbles a little before running after me again.

I'm halfway up the stairs. Only four steps to go. I need to get out. I need to reach that door. Ian dives for me and latches onto my leg. I feel his blade cut from my calf to my ankle as I shake him off and throw myself at that door. My hands reach the brass knob and I feel relieved.

It's locked. Of course it's locked. What else would it be? Open? No! That's too easy. Of course.

I bang my fists against it and scream for help. Ian starts dragging me back down the stairs. I try stomping on his feet and elbowing his face, but he won't release me.

I feel cool metal against my neck and I immediately stop yelling for help. My heart is thudding. My forehead is covered in sweat. My chest is heaving.

"Brinley," Ian says, looking me over. "I never really loved you."

And then the knife enters my stomach. And I'm screaming and I feel so much pain and I don't know what is up or down anymore. All I know is the ground against my face and my insides on fire. My shaking fingers move to find the handle. I can't pull it out. That'll be worse.