Dangerous Betrayals

Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

Kennedy

When people say ‘time would heal all wounds’ they obviously didn’t know s**t. Time was my enemy; time was not my friend. It’d been two months since my mother’s murder and the police weren’t any closer to figuring out who did it. I spoke with the chief investigator weekly and still no leads, from any of the divisions that were working on it. Her murder was a true mystery and I feared we may never know why she was randomly chosen.

I’d spent my first Christmas without her and that was one of the hardest things I had to do. There were so many feelings running rampant through my body I couldn’t think straight. I was angry, terrified, heartbroken, sad, and every other emotion you could think of; it plagued me. I wanted her killer brought to justice.

Why did it have to happen to my mother? Nothing like that ever happened in our small, North Carolina town. She was a beautiful, sweet woman who would’ve done anything for anybody. For years, we worked together at South Point High School until she retired. Everyone loved her.

The students made a shrine that now sat in the hallway outside of my classroom. They made it over Christmas break, and I know they worked hard to get it done. One of the art students had painted my mother’s portrait on a huge canvas and there were ribbons and other smaller pictures of my mother tacked onto it. She was so beautiful, inside and out. I couldn’t walk by it without crying. Everyone felt her loss as much as I did.

“Ken?” Amy called out, her voice soft and unsure. For the past three months, she and everyone else at the school had tiptoed around me as if I’d break. I couldn’t remember the last time I smiled. I looked over at the door where she stood, her smile sad as she stared at me, already dressed in her leggings and tank top with her hair in a ponytail ready for our workout. “Ready to go to the gym? Figured I’d walk with you.” She nodded toward the hallway and held up her grey hoodie. “You might want to wear this. There are a couple of reporters outside. Thought maybe we could sneak out the back and run to my car?” She tossed me the hoodie.

Huffing, I closed my eyes and clenched my fists around the hoodie. If it wasn’t for beating the hell out of the punching bags at the gym and the self-defense classes I’d enrolled in, I didn’t know where my state of mind would be. Every day, there was some reporter waiting close by to ask me questions about my mother’s murder. I didn’t know anything. What I did know was that I wanted privacy, but that was obviously not going to happen.

Grabbing my gym bag off the floor, I slammed it on my desk. “Yeah, let’s go out the back. I’m not in the mood to deal with the press today.”

Amy already had her bag over her shoulder. “Don’t blame you there.”

I followed her down the hall to the back doors by the cafeteria. The reporters always waited by my car, but as luck would have it, Amy always parked on the other side of the school. It was an easy escape. We stopped at the doors and there was no one in sight. I rushed out to her little silver sedan and breathed a sigh of relief once I was safe inside.

“I’m really getting sick of this,” I said, clutching my stomach.

I’d lost about twenty pounds since my mother’s death. There were some nights it was hard to keep food down. The stress had really taken its toll. Not to mention, Dean decided it was too hard to be around me; I wasn’t the same. Well, of course, I wasn’t. Who would be after going through what I did? I thought I’d have him to lean on, but it was too much for him. All I had were my students, fellow teachers, including Amy to help keep my mind off of everything. She was my best friend growing up and had stuck with me through it all. She even moved in with me for a couple of weeks after my mother’s death. She was pretty much the only family I had.

Right after the murder I did see a counselor but what worked best for me was to get back into my routine. And to not become a victim, which was why Amy and I enrolled in the classes.

Amy drove us to the gym and parked the car, but made no headway to get out. “I’m worried about you, Kennedy. Maybe we should leave town for a while. Go on a vacation so you can get away.”

That wasn’t a bad idea, something I’d considered myself. “Can you afford to take time off?” I asked her. “We just had Christmas break.”

She was single with no boyfriend or kids, but I didn’t want to put her out — it’s not like it would be paid leave. Teachers didn’t make a whole lot of money, and she did just buy a brand-new car. Amy waved me off. “Okay, so maybe we can’t leave just yet, but I do have about a month’s worth of vacation days I need to use. Once it gets closer to May, I can take off the rest of the school year.”

Leaving town was probably what I should’ve done two months ago. Hopefully, I could survive another four months. “Let’s do it,” I said. “We can disappear for the summer.”

Her face lit up. “Perfect. After we kick some a*s here at the gym, I’ll put in my vacation time with the school. You should probably do the same.”

I hugged her. “Sounds good to me.”

*

After our workout, Amy dropped me off at the school to get my car around seven o’clock. There was a card on my windshield from one of the reporters, but I crumpled it up and tossed it in my backseat. Didn’t they get that I didn’t want to talk with anyone? Their persistence was cruel because thinking about mom’s murder all the time only made the not knowing who killed her even more frustrating. On the way home, I made sure to drive the long way so I wouldn’t have to go by my mother’s house. I couldn’t bring myself to go in it after everything happened. I’d paid someone to move everything out and I put it up for sale. It didn’t take long for someone to buy it. It was a nice starter home and a cute newly married couple from Michigan bought it as soon as it was listed.

After the incident I spent a lot of time in therapy. The school was great giving me the time off I needed but the best thing for my health was to maintain normalcy. Maintain a regular schedule so my mind wouldn’t recycle all that I’d been through. Was it enough? I don’t know. Although I was able to live my life things weren’t the same; I wasn’t the same. Maybe Dean was right to leave me.

Once home, I pulled into the garage and closed the door behind me. I always go the long way around the neighborhood so I don’t have to see my mother’s house. The best thing for me was to find a new house which I planned on doing soon. I dropped my keys and gym bag onto the kitchen counter and turned on all the lights as I walked into living room. There was a whole corner of dog supplies that I’d bought over the past couple of weeks. I’d planned on adopting a puppy, but now with Amy and I going away on vacation soon, it’d be best to wait until I got back. I figured it’d be less lonely with a dog around.

Sitting on the couch, I laid my phone on my lap and leaned my head back, closing my eyes as I took in a breath. My stomach growled, but I didn’t want to get up to find something to eat. Sleep didn’t come easy to me these last months with most of my dreams consisting of nightmares. If I didn’t have to sleep, I wouldn’t. Nighttime scared me, but I often found myself too exhausted not to sleep.

The lights shut off with an audible snapping sound and I jerked my eyes open. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and I froze. I’d watched a million scary movies in my lifetime and when the lights went out that was never a good sign. It was as if the air in my house turned ice cold; like I wasn’t alone.

Quickly, I dialed 911 on my cell and hit the send button, but that was as far as I could get. A set of arms wrapped around my neck and I screamed as my phone fell onto the couch and I was hauled over top of it. My screams came to a halt as I was thrown onto the floor, the breath whooshing out of my lungs. I gasped for air, but the weight of my attacker pressed against my chest. It felt like the whole world crashed in all around me. It was so dark I couldn’t see who my attacker was.

He slammed my head against the hardwood floor and the pain sent crushing waves all through my body. I cried out and he did it again, only this time I couldn’t move my arms or legs. He held my arms above my head, his grip excruciatingly tight as he held my wrists. I could hear and feel him on top of me, but I couldn’t fight him.

“You took everything from me,” he growled, his voice right by my ear. I could feel his breath on my neck and it terrified me. I didn’t recognize his voice. It chilled me to the bone.

“Who are you?” I cried.

His body felt heavier as he crushed me to the floor. “Your mother paid her price. Now it’s time for you to pay yours.”

He ripped my shirt open and I could feel the cold, sharp edge of the knife in his hand as he slid it across my skin. In that moment, something shifted inside of me. It was him, the man who killed my mother.

Memories threatened to overcome me and I dug deep to find my fury. This was my opportunity to settle things, the reason I took all of those self-defense courses was to level the playing field and take this motherfucker out.

Even though I was scared, I sought my rage to overtake me. Maybe it was the adrenaline, but all of a sudden, I could feel my arms and legs. My mind became clear and I was ready to fight. I knew the movements, had practiced them with Amy over and over again and now it was time to skillfully implement them.

I sucked in a fast breath, and jerked my arms out of his hold, elbowing him as hard as I could against the side of the head. Although pain ran up my arm it knocked him off balance and I kicked him hard in the gut landing the exact spot to immobilize him. It gave me the split second I needed to get away. The door was so close, but I didn’t get far.

“You stupid cunt,” he shouted, tackling me back down to the floor. My face hit the wood and pain exploded through my body.

All I knew was that I couldn’t stop fighting.

Anticipate, Devastate, Dominate.

The mantra we chanted weekly in class repeated through my brain.

I wanted to see his face, but all that stared down at me was nothing but black; it was too dark and he had his face covered. What I did see was the knife in his hand. Using all of my strength, my arms shook as I tried to keep the blade away from me. I screamed and kicked, but my strength started to wane. The tip of the knife dug into my chest and I had a choice to make. In a life or death situation, there was only one choice … to live.

In one quick move, I head butted him landing the hit on his nose — unfortunately, the knife dug in deeper into my chest as he growled in pain. I head butted him again and this time he fell back cracking his head on the corner of the coffee table. The knife stuck out of my chest and I pulled it out as the blood poured from the wound and down my ripped shirt. Nausea overtook me, but I pushed through it and got to my feet, still holding the knife in my hands. My legs felt heavy as if I was trudging through quicksand, but I made it to my front door and escaped.

“Somebody help me,” I screamed, stumbling across my front lawn. “Please, somebody!” I went straight across the road to my neighbor’s house. Their front porch light turned on and Timothy ran out, followed by his wife, Sarah. “Help me,” I cried out again, holding a hand over my bleeding chest. “The killer’s in my house.”

Timothy raced toward me and put his arm around me. Sarah joined us and grabbed my arm to help me. “Sarah, take her inside the house and lock the door,” Timothy demanded. “I’m going over there.”

“No,” I cried, but he had already taken off across the street. Some of our other neighbors were now turning their lights on, looking out their windows trying to see what all the commotion was about. A few came over to me and Sarah — our community was a tight one, we helped one another.

Sarah asked them to go back to their homes and call the police as she pushed me toward their door. “Kennedy, let’s go. It’s not safe out here.” She helped me inside and I fell to the floor the second she locked the door. With tears in my eyes, I looked down at the knife in my hand. It wasn’t long before the darkness took me.