In Silence

CHAPTER 52

Avery came to slowly. She ached all over; her head throbbed. Moaning, she opened her eyes.

She lay on a bed, she realized. A bare mattress. She tried to sit up but found she couldn't. Her arms had been anchored above her head, wrists bound tightly. Her legs were tied to opposite bedposts.

Buddy, his confession. Matt picking her up. The gun.

Fear exploded inside her. Blinding, white hot. It stole her ability to think. To reason. With it came panic. She fought her restraints, tugging and twisting, getting nowhere.

She stopped, wrists and ankles burning, breath coming in trembling gasps. Tears choked her. She fought them as well. She would not give in. She would not lie down and die.

They would not get away with this. She wouldn 't let them.

In an attempt to center herself, Avery closed her eyes. She drew in as deep a breath as she could and expelled it slowly. Then repeated the process. She needed calm. Fear and panic bled her abil- ity to think. To reason. She needed to be able to do both if she was going to escape.

She opened her eyes, a semblance of calm restored. The only light in the room came from the open doorway to the right of the bed. The air was damp, heavy. It stank, the smell familiar, though she couldn't place it. The single window stood open. From outside came the sounds of insects, more dense than she was accustomed to.

He had taken her outside the city limits. She traveled her gaze over the room, taking in what she could from her prone position. Spare. Rough-hewn. A hunting cabin, she thought. At the edge of woods. Or along the bayou.

The same one Gwen had been lured to? Avery searched her memory. Gwen had said the junction of Highway 421 and No Name Road.

That would put her south of Cypress Springs. Not far from the old canning factory.

The sour smell, she realized. Of course. The same smell that rolled into town when the wind shifted to a northerly direction.

The stench of the burned-out factory.

Matt appeared in the doorway, a dark silhouette against the rectangle of light. "Rise and shine, beautiful."

"Untie me and I will."

She all but spat the words at him and he laughed. "Somebody wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"

"Bastard."

He sauntered across the room, humming the tune from the children's nursery rhyme "The Itsy-Bitsy Spider." He reached the bed, bent and tiptoed his fingers up her thigh in time with the tune. She saw he had his gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans.

His fingers made the juncture of her thighs and stilled-the tune died on his lips. He cocked his head and gazed at her, expression curiously blank. "I'm sorry it's come to this, Avery. I really am."

"Then let me go, you psycho prick."

"Such language. I'm disappointed in you."

He climbed onto the bed and straddled her, placing a hand on either side of her head. The position brought his pelvis into contact with hers. The butt of the gun pressed into her abdomen.

"You betrayed me, Avery. You betrayed us."

"Don't talk to me about betrayal. You killed my father!"

He laughed softly and trailed a finger down the curve of her cheek, then lower, across her collarbone to her breast. "You always were too smart for your own good. Too opinionated."

He bent and kissed her. Lightly at first, then deeply, forcing his tongue into her mouth.

Avery fought the urge to fight and instead lay frozen beneath him. Her lack of response seemed to frustrate him and he broke the contact.

As he did, she spit in his face. He jerked away, face flooding with angry color. Rearing back, he slapped her. Her head snapped to the side; she tasted blood and saw stars.

But she didn't cry out. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"You know what?" He curled his fingers around the neck of the T-shirt Cherry had lent her. "For a smart girl you do some really stupid things."

He yanked the fabric so hard she came off the bed. The T-shirt gave, ripping from neck to belly button, revealing her naked breasts. He covered them with his hands, squeezing tightly. "Like pissing off the guy who holds your life in his hands. And now, your breasts as well."

He tightened his grip, pinching the nipples, twisting. She swallowed the whimper of pain that flew to her lips. He bent forward so that his face hovered just above hers. His stale breath stirred against her cheek.

Avery shuddered. If the eyes were the windows to the soul, he had none.

"You were supposed to be mine. I chose you. Not once, but twice. And you broke my heart. The first time by leaving. The second by giving yourself to my brother."

He laughed. "You look so surprised. How stupid do you think I am? I was suspicious that day at Tiller's Pond. Like a fool, I gave you the benefit of the doubt. After I found you at his place that morning, I knew."

She whimpered, thinking of Hunter. Of what she had gotten him into.

And what she had suspected him of.

Matt's mouth twisted into a thin line. "Did you think of me, Avery? While you fucked my brother? While you betrayed-" He bit the words back, though he shook with a rage so potent the bed quaked with it.

He could kill her now, this moment.

He wanted to.

Avery shrank back against the mattress, losing her grip on her emotions. Fear became terror, rampaging through her.

For the first time, her own death became a stark reality. She pictured it. Matt's hands around her neck, squeezing and squeezing…being unable to fight him except with her frantic thoughts. Her silent screams for help.

Her fear seemed to calm him. He looked pleased. "I like you this way," he said softly, straightening. "Helpless."

He moved his hands over her breasts, his touch changing from punishing to coaxing. He brought his hands to her waist, then curved his fingers around the waistband of her drawstring pants.

"Remember how it used to be between us?" he asked, trailing his fingers across her abdomen, dipping them lower and dragging the fabric down. Revealing her belly button, then abdomen, the top of her panties and pubic mound.

He bent and pressed his face to the vee, breathing deeply, making a sound of pleasure. "When we were together this way?"

Bile rose in her throat. She fought gagging.

"It was so good. Nobody's ever come close to making me feel the way you did. We were meant to be together."

Get smart, Avery. Play along. Give him what he wants.

There was always a chance. Always.

"Yes," she whispered, voice quaking. "I remember."

"How did we come to this?" he whispered. "You left me. Why?"

"I was young. Stupid." She looked up at him in what she hoped he would take as adoration. "I didn't know how strong you were. I didn't see your power."

His mouth thinned in fury. "Don't bullshit me. You left. You fucked my brother. You-"

"I'm not!" she cried, cutting him off, trying another tack, using his own words against him. "I see it now, I understand why I left. I thought you were like…that you were going to be like your dad. I love him but he's not…not strong like you."

Matt stilled. His gaze bored into hers. She pressed on. "You were so brilliant. You sailed through school. Your SAT scores were perfect and yet…you chose to stay in Cypress Springs and go into law enforcement. Like your dad. You see why I thought that, Matt?"

He studied her a moment more, then inclined his head in agreement. "I needed to lead. I had a mission."

"I understand that now."

"Dad's weak. He's been a disappointment."

"Unwilling to do what's necessary," she said, making a guess.

"Exactly." He looked at her as if he was the proud parent, she his gifted child. "Too often, his emotions rule. His heart."

He shook his head sadly. "A leader can't be swayed by emotion. A leader must always keep his focus on the big picture."

"The cause. In this case, the good of the community."

"Yes." Matt searched her gaze. "Dad was the leader of the original Seven. Did you know that?"

She shook her head.

"He proved too weak to lead. He bowed to pressure from others in the group. Mostly your father."

"My dad?" She struggled to inject just the right amount of surprise and disappointment into her tone.

"Oh yeah, your dad. The great Dr. Phillip Chauvin." Dislike dripped from each word. "He threatened to go to the Feds. They had crossed the line, he'd claimed."

Matt leaned closer. "There is no line when it comes to war. Do you understand, Avery? Life and death. Black or white. Win or lose."

"No compromise."

"Exactly." He trailed a finger tenderly over the curve of her cheek. "Some are sacrificed for the good of the many. Individual rights lost…but quality of life maintained."

"My father wouldn't go along with that?"

"A do-gooder pussy. He nearly ruined it for everyone."

She bit down on her lip to keep from defending her father. From cheering him aloud.

"Tonight, did Buddy tell you everything? About that night, about Sallie Waguespack?" He answered his own question. "Of course he didn't. He wouldn't."

Matt laughed. "That night, Hunter and I had fought about that new kid, Mike Horn. Remember him? His dad was the plant manager over at the canning factory."

He didn't wait for her reply but went on. "I didn't like the way Mike was acting, like he owned the place. Like he was going to take my place. I figured we should give him a little lesson in humility, me, Hunter and a couple of the other guys. Hunter refused to back me up. Told me he liked Mike. And that what I wanted to do was wrong."

Mart's face twisted. "He'd been pulling that shit a lot that summer, refusing to go with the program. I called him on that. And on his feelings for you. He wanted to fuck you. I saw that, too. Everybody saw it. I accused him of doing it. We came to blows," he finished simply, "and he left the house. Went over to Karl's."

"Karl Wright's?"

"Yes. I couldn't sleep. I heard the front door. I thought Hunter had changed his mind, come home to apologize."

"But it wasn't Hunter?"

"No. It was Mother. She was sobbing, hysterical. Covered with blood. It was splattered on her hands and face. Her clothes."

"At first I panicked. I thought she was hurt. Then I realized what she was saying. She had killed someone. Dad's girlfriend. His lover. It was an accident, she didn't know what to do."

Avery pictured the scenario. Lilah covered with blood, hysterical. Matt sixteen and terrified. Reeling with all his mother was telling him.

"I didn't either. Dad was out. I didn't know for sure where. I couldn't call the department. So I went.

"It was just as Mom had said. With one exception-the woman wasn't dead. She must have lost consciousness. By the trail of blood, I saw that sometime between when Mom left and I arrived, she had tried to pull herself to the door. She didn't make it, she couldn't pull herself up to get it open.

"At first I meant to help her. To convince her to be quiet, not to tell anyone about the affair or about Mom.

"She laughed at us," Matt continued. "She laughed at me. How was I going to like seeing his father's bastard take his place in their home? Seeing all of them made a laughingstock. She called me stupid, Avery. Me. Can you imagine that? And the whole time she's bleeding all over the place. Struggling not to pass out." He made a sound of disgust. "Like she's the one in charge.

"She wouldn't shut up," he went on. "I begged her to. I was crying. She laughed at me…the things she said were so ugly. So…vile.

"So I shut her up. I put my hands over her nose and mouth and pressed and pressed until she didn't say anything anymore."

Avery shuddered, recalling her image of earlier, of Matt choking the life out of her.

"It felt good," he murmured, a small smile tipping the corners of his mouth. "I felt powerful. Unbeatable."

He leaned toward her. "Power, Avery. My hands. I always knew I was special. I saw things, understood things others didn't. Things regular people couldn't. As I watched her die, I knew that I was meant to lead. That I had the power over life and death."

Avery stared at him, mouth dry, heart hammering. Horrified. That summer…they had been together back then. They had seen each other every day-had been physically intimate. She had considered spending her life with him.

She would have sworn she knew everything about him.

She hadn 't known him at all.

She found her voice. It shook. "So my dad knew you-"

"Killed her? No." He shook his head. "Dad found me there. He promised to protect me. To take care of everything. Told me to get out of there, to keep it to myself."

"He never told anyone, did he? Not even Lilah."

He grinned. She found something about the way his lips stretched over his teeth more terrifying than if he had growled. "He was going to save me. That's a hoot, isn't it? He was going to save me? But over the years he has served his purpose. In a limited way, he shared my vision."

In a lightning-quick change of mood, his eyes filled with tears. "We could have been a family," he said. "We could have had children together, grown old together."

The thought that she had imagined that very thing, not long ago, made her ill. She hid her true feelings as best she could. "It's not too late, Matt. Let me go. I won't make any trouble, we can be together."

He looked away, then back. "I'm really sorry, Avery. I didn't want this to happen. None of it. But in a conflict one must sacrifice individual wants and needs for the good of the many."

She caught her breath at his meaning. "It's not too late, I can change. I see now. I understand what you're fighting for."

He bent and pressed his mouth to hers in a hard kiss. One that smacked of finality. "It's not about me, Avery. Not about what I feel or what I want. The generals have called for action. They've voted."

"But you're their leader. They'll do what you-"

"I can't take my eyes off the big picture." He cradled her face in his palms. "No matter how much I want to."

"What are you going to do to me? Kill me? The way you killed Elaine St. Claire and Trudy Pruitt?" Her voice quivered. "The way you killed Gwen?"

He didn't deny it. "I don't enjoy the killing. I do it because it's a necessity. Because-"

From the doorway came the soft click of a gun's hammer falling into place. "Off the bed, son."

Matt twisted, hand going to his weapon.

"Try it and you're dead," the older man warned.

"You will be, too." Matt's hand hovered over his weapon. "And poor Avery will lie on this bed and rot."

Buddy's aim didn't waver. "Drop the fucking gun. To the floor. Now!"

Matt hesitated, then slid the weapon from his waistband and tossed it to the floor.

"Good boy. Now, off the bed. Hands up." He motioned with the gun. "To the wall."

Matt lifted his hands, climbed off the bed. "Think this through, Dad. Don't make a mistake."

Buddy moved into the room, gun trained on his son. "Hands on the wall." When Matt obeyed, Buddy bent, never talking his gaze from the other man, retrieved the gun and slid it into his waistband.

"It's okay, baby girl," he said, inching toward the bed. "Everything's going to be okay."

He freed Avery's hands, then feet. She saw that his cheeks were wet.

She pulled up her pants, then scrambled into a sitting position. After tying the pieces of T-shirt together, she scrambled off the bed and crossed to stand behind Buddy.

"You have to stop, Matt." Buddy took a step toward his son. "The killing has to stop."

Matt turned, held out a hand to his father, expression pleading. "We're in this together. Everything I've done, I've done for us. The family. The community."

Tears trickled down Buddy's cheeks. "You're ill, son. I should have faced it long ago but I didn't want to see. That night…Sallie Waguespack, I thought I was doing the right thing. But it wasn't right. I've been covering up and making excuses all these years. And these past months, pretending I didn't suspect something was wrong."

"It's not me, Dad. It's her. She won't keep quiet. We have to keep her quiet. To protect the family. She's just like Sallie."

"I didn't know, baby girl," Buddy said, voice heavy with pain. "Not about your daddy. Not about the others. I thought…let myself believe it wasn't happening. That all the deaths were just what they appeared to be."

Matt's expression went soft. "What would you have had me do? Phillip was going to the district attorney. The others were going to back him up. Tell everyone about Sallie and The Seven. I only meant to protect us."

"I know. I'm sorry." He removed his handcuffs from the pouch on his utility belt. "I've got to cuff you."

"Don't do it, Dad." His eyes filled with tears. "Please, don't cuff me."

Avery saw the emotional toll this was taking on the older man. She ached for him-the father having to face the consequences of his mistakes and the terrible truth about his own flesh and blood.

"I've got to son. I'm sorry."

Matt held out his arms. "I'll come quietly then. If you believe this is the right thing, I'll do whatever you say."

"I'll protect you as best I can, Matt. Within the law." Buddy lowered his weapon, crossed to his son.

Matt's gaze flicked to Avery's. In his she saw triumph.

"Buddy!" she cried, seeing the switchblade cupped in Mart's palm. "It's a trick!"

Matt lunged forward, catching his father by surprise. The blade popped out. He buried it in the side of Buddy's neck.

"No!" Avery screamed. A look of surprise crossed the older man's face; he reached up to grab the blade. Matt twisted it, then yanked it out. Blood sprayed.

Buddy looked at his son, mouth working. He took a step. Wobbled, then crashed to the floor.

Avery turned to run. Matt grabbed her around the middle, dragged her to his chest and brought the blade to her throat. She saw that his hand was splattered with blood. His father's blood.

"See, Avery? Weak. Stupid." He gazed down at his father's still-twitching form. "And a traitor as well."

She saw no remorse in his expression. No regret. "You're crazy. A psychotic, murdering son of a bitch!"

"I'm a soldier. I'm fighting for something bigger than you or I or an old man who'd forgotten what was important." He bent and retrieved his father's handcuffs. Wrenching an arm behind her back, Matt cuffed one wrist, then the next.

He turned his emotionless gaze on her. "You have been judged and found guilty, Avery Chauvin. Of crimes against this community. Of attempting to bring an end to a way of life that has existed for a century. The Seven will decide your fate."