His [The Cellar sequel]

You'll Always Be Mine - Chapter Nine

“Our sheets?”

Becca frowned deeply and sighed. “I…I don’t know. It’s strange being here again, that’s all. Like…” She groaned in frustration, her body tense in anger. “I don’t know, I can’t explain it.”

“You want to put everything back too,” I said confidently.

“Yeah, I guess I do. I hate that I do.”

“Me too.” I still did it at home without even thinking about it. My room was spotless. Wherever I walked I would move things so they lined up or wiped over a clean surface. “It’ll take time for that to not be habit.”

Becca nodded. “Let’s just do this so we can get out of here.” She turned on her heels and practically ran out of the room. Before I followed her I sat on Louise’s bed.

“We’ll make sure he pays for you, I promise,” I whispered so quietly it was barely audible. Every time doubt slipped into my mind, and that was often, I would picture Louise and Rose. That was all I needed to find the strength to carry on with our stupid plan.

I walked back into the main room just as Becca pulled something out of her pocket. “What’s that?” She gasped and spun around. “Sorry I didn’t mean-” I stopped mid-sentence as my eyes fell upon the thing she was holding. A gun. “Becca?”

“You said we need to hide weapons down here,” she replied casually, with a shrug, as if we were discussing the weather.

Shaking my head to see if I was dreaming or not, I took one step closer to her. Of course the gun was still sitting in her hand. “Becks, I meant like baseball bats or knives.” I pointed to the pocket on the front of my hoodie that contained six penknives. Although, we had spoken about the possibility of having to kill him if it came down to him against us. “Where did you even get it?”

“My granddad goes hunting.”

“With handguns?”

She frowned. “Well no, but he holds a gun licence so has a few handguns too.” Her eyes seemed cold and empty. Was she sticking to our original plan or did she just want him dead? I didn’t want that, he needed to know what he’d done and pay for it in prison or wherever they were sending him for the rest of his life. Death seemed like the easy way out.

“That is a bad idea,” I said, pointing to the gun.

“Summer, how many women have you seen him murder?”

“Too many,” I admitted.

“Exactly. You really think he would think twice about killing us when he finds out we’ve betrayed him?” Reluctantly, I shook my head. I knew he wouldn’t. “If we’re facing him again I want the gun.”

The way she was talking was scary though; it was as if she wanted it to go wrong so she could shoot him. I hated him more than I had ever hated anything or anyone but I didn’t want to murder him unnecessarily, I didn’t want to be like him. “Becca, you’re not going to use that unless you absolutely have to, are you?”

“No, but we need to be prepared, you said that yourself.”

“Okay.” I had to believe her. “So, where are you going to hide it?”

“Kitchen drawer,” she responded immediately. She had already planned where it was going. “He’d never look in there.”

He wouldn’t look in there. In the whole eight months I was down there he didn’t open one cupboard or drawer, he just sat there waiting to be served his food. Becca ripped open the drawer and shoved the gun underneath the cutlery.