Elle Unleashed: A Gripping Psychological Thriller with a Twist Read online

  Elle feigned surprise. “You’re married?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that. I just don’t like people in my business. Have you ever heard of Buford, Georgia? It’s about twenty miles west of here.”

  Elle was pretty sure she knew where Buford was. And Marlon couldn’t have suggested a better place. In fact, Buford, Georgia happened to be no more than fifteen minutes from ole pervert Marlon’s future resting place.

  “I’ve heard of it,” Elle practically purred.

  Marlon continued to stroke her arm. “How about eight o’clock at Dusty’s Bar on the southside?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Chapter Seven

  Elle left the service station, her fake, seductive smile still in place. She held the sickening expression until she pulled out onto the main road.

  It took everything she had not to throw up on her lap. He’d touched her. Marlon Hurley had stroked her arm in slow, lazy circles, his eyes conveying his dark, perverted thoughts.

  After a mile of holding it inside, Elle pressed the brakes and swung the car off the side of the road. She unhooked her seatbelt, jerked her door open, and vomited into the grass.

  She wasn’t sure if she vomited from the feel of his hand on her skin or from the thoughts of what he’d been doing to poor Miley since she’d been a little girl.

  Elle shuddered, sucking in great gulps of air. She slowly straightened and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Yeah, she would take care of Marlon Hurley, all right. And hopefully, give Miley back some semblance of a life.

  * * * *

  Elle drove home in a daze, her mind going over everything that had happened since walking Sarah to school that morning. The incident with the old man in the van, the transformation from the pale-faced girl in the mirror to someone Elle didn’t recognize. And last but not least, the disgusting visit with Marlon Hurley.

  Pulling up at the house, she slipped inside and washed her face. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail next, and the clothes she currently wore were replaced with the ones she’d worn that morning.

  She then slipped her wedding ring back on her finger.

  Her stomach picked that moment to growl. She hadn’t eaten since the evening before.

  With a weary sigh, Elle made her way down the hall toward the kitchen.

  Taking out some ham, bread, and mayonnaise, she quickly made a sandwich, devouring it like a woman starved. And she knew what it was to starve. Elle had suffered through many instances of hunger, right along with poor Elenore.

  Odd that Elenore remained asleep…

  Shaking off her unwanted thoughts, Elle licked the crumbs from her fingers and returned to the hall, intent on heading back to her room for a short nap before it was time to collect Sarah from school.

  But a light on in Evan’s office caught her eye. Sarah must have left it on when she’d went in search of one of her missing shoes earlier that morning.

  Elle stepped inside the dimly lit room and moved to sit behind Evan’s desk.

  Everything on the desk’s surface was neat and clean, save for a couple of ink pens scattered about.

  She gathered the pens and placed them in the small wire cup sitting next to the laptop—the same laptop Evan had taught her to use. He’d also let her use it to study for her GED.

  Elle had been taking online typing courses before the shooting and had actually gotten pretty good at it.

  She thought about how far in life poor Elenore could have gotten, if not for Elijah. But Sarah wouldn’t suffer the same fate. She would finish school and make something of herself. Elle would see to it.

  With that thought in mind, Elle booted up the laptop and opened the search engine. Her hand hovered over the keyboard for long moments, and then she typed in child predators near me.

  She then inputted her address. A long list of names appeared on the first page, nearly taking Elle’s breath. And there were dozens of pages.

  Stunned and more than a little sickened, Elle clicked on the first name she came to.

  The picture of a man rested above an extensive list of charges for being a sex offender. He had been arrested for everything from raping a neighbor to sexual contact with several minors under the age of thirteen.

  Elle’s eyes narrowed in contempt.

  She printed out the page, noticing the fifty-two-year-old sex offender lived within walking distance of Evan’s home. Sarah’s home.

  “You’re next, Clyde Arlington,” she whispered aloud, staring at Arlington’s evil eyes. “Right after I take care of Marlon Hurley.”

  Folding up the paper, Elle shut down the laptop and switched off the lamp. She stuffed the paper into her jeans pocket and struck out for Ida Mae’s for more ammo.

  The elderly neighbor answered after the third knock. “Elenore?”

  “It’s Elle. May I come in?”

  Ida Mae backed up and waved her inside. “All right, Elle. You told me that before. I’ll try to remember it next time.”

  Elle immediately felt contrite. “I didn’t mean that to come out the way it sounded. “It’s just that—”

  “You and Elenore are two completely different people,” Ida Mae finished for her.

  Elle’s stomach clenched. “Did Evan tell you that too?”

  Ida shook her head. “He didn’t have to.”

  Suddenly nervous, Elle turned to leave.

  “Don’t go, girl,” Ida Mae rasped, her hand wrapping around Elle’s arm with a surprisingly strong grip.

  Elle stilled, unsure of what to say or do. She only knew that the understanding and acceptance evident in Ida’s voice held her captive.

  Ida Mae took the decision from her. She gave Elle a gentle tug. “Have a seat, and I’ll fix us some tea.”

  Still, Elle remained rooted to that spot.

  “It doesn’t matter to me who you are,” Ida softly confessed. “You make Evan happy, and you’re good to his daughter. That’s all I need to know. But something tells me you need to talk. And I want you to know that you can trust me.”

  Elle did trust her. She slowly turned to face the elderly woman who’d befriended her, helped her, and accepted her for who—and what—she was. “I don’t know where to start.”

  Ida Mae’s knowing eyes assessed Elle for several long seconds. “Start from the beginning. Have a seat, and I’ll make the tea while you talk.”

  And so it began. Elle moved to the table and dropped heavily into a chair. It felt as if all the air left her body at once. Her shoulders sagged, and the words she’d held inside for so long seemed to spill forth, unfiltered.

  “I don’t know when I came to be here. Sometimes it feels like a dream that I wake from, and I’m hurting inside. But there aren’t any details. Only vague memories of things I’d rather forget, things that shouldn’t happen to people.”

  She took a deep breath, her gaze locked on something insignificant on Ida Mae’s kitchen wall. “I can hear a girl crying at night in my dreams. I recognize her. She’s part of me, and she’s in pain… So much pain.”

  Ida Mae kept busy with making their tea. “Why is she in pain, Elle?”

  Images of Elijah, Bill, and all the others who’d hurt Elenore slammed into Elle at once, taking her breath. “T-they hurt her. They… They did things to her that no one should ever have to live through. Horrible, vile things found only in nightmares.”

  Chapter Eight

  Elle watched the elderly woman gather their cups and bring them to the table. She sat, facing Elle. “What kind of things did they do to the girl?”

  Elle lowered her head, unable to meet Ida’s gaze. “They raped her, ripped into her with different objects.” Elle shuddered. “I-I think one of them was a fireplace poker. She was beaten and humiliated beyond anything you could imagine…”

  “This she you speak of, is it Elenore?”

  Elle’s gaze slowly lifted to Ida Mae’s aged and weathered face. “Yes.”

  Ida took a sip of her tea. “I see. And where is Elenore now?”


  Elle didn’t know how to answer that, so she didn’t. “You must think I’m insane.”

  “I think no such thing,” Ida firmly responded, setting her cup back on the table. She remained quiet for long moments and then, “I’ve been on this earth a long time, Elle. And I suffered many years at the hands of someone who was supposed to love and protect me. I had no one. Not even my own mother. I would have given anything to have had an Elle to protect me.”

  A strong rush of emotion welled up inside Elle’s chest. “Do you really mean that?”

  “Course, I do. Elenore is fortunate to have you.”

  Elle wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She looked away, back to that insignificant place on the wall.

  “Wanna know what else I think?” Ida continued, drawing Elle’s attention back to her face. “I think you and Elenore are the same.”

  Confused by that statement, Elle licked her lips. “I don’t understand.”

  Ida nodded to the cup sitting at Elle’s elbow. “Drink your tea.”

  Elle did as she was told and waited on the elderly neighbor to elaborate.

  She didn’t have long to wait. Ida Mae’s matter-of-fact words and acceptance touched Elle in ways she didn’t understand.

  “After I left home…” Ida began, only to clear her throat and start again. “I became withdrawn and anxious, moving from job to job. I had no friends because, well, I didn’t know how to be a friend. I didn’t trust folks, you see. I wasn’t sleeping, and I’d begun drinking. A lot.”

  Ida took another sip of her tea, holding her cup close to her face to stare into its depths. “I finally saw a doctor who put me on antianxiety medication.”

  Pausing for what seemed an eternity, Ida continued. “I eventually took the advice of a coworker and went to see a psychiatrist. Things were a lot different back then. This had to be around 1973 to 1975. Can’t remember the exact year. Anyway, it helped to talk about my past and what had been done to me.”

  She set her cup down and met Elle’s gaze. “During one of my visits, I was sitting in the waiting area with a young girl. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old. Don’t know where her mama was, or anyone else, for that matter. She’d obviously been dropped off there.”

  Elle simply listened, not understanding where Ida was going with her story.

  “The girl’s name was Constance. I’ll never forget that name, or her face. We began talking after a time, and she confessed that she’d been sent there because she had five people sharing her body. They had a technical name for it back then, but I couldn’t tell you what that was. Anyway, one of the people occupying her body was a little boy named Jack, or something like that. Might have been John. Was so many years ago, you understand. Another was a man. Can’t recall his name either. My point is, these were people she claimed that shared a body with her. People encountered by everyone but her.”

  “Whatever happened to that girl?”

  Ida held Elle’s gaze. “I don’t know. Things were different back then. Doctors didn’t know the things they do now. If I had to guess, she was more than likely institutionalized.”

  Elle swallowed hard.

  “I ain’t no shrink, mind you,” Ida went on to say. “But I don’t believe you and Elenore are two different people.”

  Elle shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “I think you’re one and the same. You are Elenore. You’re simply the strongest part of her. You’re her strength… Her savior.”

  Tears surfaced in Elle’s eyes. So much of Ida Mae’s words resonated inside her. Maybe she was split in half. Either way, Ida was right. She was a part of Elenore, and Elenore was a part of her.

  Elle realized something in that moment. The two sides of what made up Elenore had merged in order for them to both live. Elenore somehow knew existence depended on Elle; that Elle possessed the strength needed for her to survive.

  “Elenore is definitely a part of me, Mrs. Gordon. But she’s tired and weak. And I’ll never let anyone or anything hurt her again—hurt me again.”

  Ida Mae’s all-knowing gaze stayed locked on Elle’s. “You have the strength of a lion. Draw on that strength, Elle. Learn how to live. How to love. But first, you must learn to love yourself. Then and only then, will you live…”

  Elle did something she’d never done before. She leaned forward and wrapped Ida Mae Gordon in a hug—a hug that came from her very soul.

  “There, there,” Ida Mae crooned, patting Elle gently on the back. “Everything will be all right, girl. You’ll see.”

  Elle remained in that position for a minute longer before releasing her hold and getting to her feet. “I have to go get Sarah from school.”

  Ida stood as well, following her to the door. “Remember what I said.”

  “I will,” Elle assured her, stopping with her hand on the knob. “Can Sarah stay with you tonight? There’s something I need to take care of.”

  “Sarah can stay here anytime she needs to.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Gordon.” Elle suddenly remembered what she’d gone over there for to begin with.

  She let go of the knob and turned back to face Ida. “Do… Do you have any more bullets for that gun?”

  Other than a slight narrowing of her eyes, Ida Mae showed no outward reaction to Elle’s request. “Wait here.”

  Elle watched her amble over to that same cabinet above the stove, where she’d retrieved the gun from originally. She took down the lockbox and brought it to Elle. “Take what you need.”

  Nervous once again, Elle reached in and snagged the two small boxes of ammunition resting there. “You don’t want to know what they’re for?”

  Ida Mae shrugged. “I think I have a pretty good idea. You just be careful.”

  Elle wasn’t sure what to make of that. She thanked Mrs. Gordon once more, opened the door, and left.

  Chapter Nine

  Elle pulled into the parking lot of Dusty’s Bar in Buford, Georgia, a little before eight o’clock that night and parked in the shadows beneath a tree near the road.

  She’d swapped out the tag on Evan’s car with one she’d stolen from an abandoned truck on the outskirts of town. The last thing she needed was for Evan’s tag number to be seen on a nearby camera.

  She reached into her shoulder bag and retrieved a tube of red lipstick.

  Flipping the visor down to use the mirror there, she applied the lipstick and released her hair from its ponytail.

  She glanced down at the tight jeans she wore along with a black, drop-shoulder top she’d picked up earlier that afternoon.

  It made her sick to dress as she had, but unfortunately it was a necessity for what she had planned.

  Elle knew what she was about to do would be considered premeditated. But she didn’t care. If Marlon Hurley wasn’t stopped, he would only continue to hurt Miley… And God knew how many more children before he was through.

  His blue truck sat near the corner of the bar, close to the front, as if he’d arrived early enough to get a good parking space.

  Elle got out, securing her small purse over her shoulder, the weight of the loaded gun inside lending courage to her otherwise nervous form.

  Taking a fortifying breath, she marched across the parking lot to the door and stepped inside.

  Country music spilled from a jukebox along the wall, and smoke swirled through the room in a cloud of musty, lung-filling poison that took Elle’s breath.

  Though Georgia had laws that prevented folks from smoking in public places, it didn’t always apply to a hole-in-the-wall like Dusty’s Bar.

  She spotted Marlon Hurley shooting a game of pool in the back of the room. He hadn’t noticed her yet.

  Attempting to breathe through the dank smell of smoke, Elle straightened her shoulders and sashayed in Marlon’s direction.

  He must have sensed her approach. His head lifted as well as his pool stick. “You made it.”

  Elle slowly rested her weight on her left leg, knowing ful
l well the stance oozed of flirtation. She blocked out the lust swimming in his eyes and focused on the job she came to do. “I said I would.”

  “What would you like to drink?”

  Running her tongue along her bottom lip, Elle glanced at the bottle perched on the edge of the pool table. “I’ll have what you’re having.”

  Marlon waved a waitress over and ordered them a couple of long necks. He then handed his pool stick over to a man behind him, picked up his half-empty bottle, and sauntered over to Elle’s side. “You sure look mighty pretty, Lacy.”

  Elle had almost forgotten she’d given him the fictitious name. She lifted the corner of her mouth and followed him to a small table in the corner.

  Once they were seated, the waitress arrived with their beer. Elle kept her eyes downcast, not wanting the other woman to notice her.

  “Tell me a little about yourself,” Marlon insisted after the waitress departed.

  Elle lifted her gaze. “I live in a small town in Alabama, where I work as a bank teller,” she easily lied. “I have a daughter and two rambunctious cats.”

  Interest sparked in his eyes. “Really? How old is your daughter?”

  Her stomach clenched, but she produced a soft smile. “She’s three.”

  He reached across the table and laid his palm over the back of her hand. “And her father isn’t in the picture?”

  It took all Elle could do not to shoot him in that bar in front of God and everyone. She held completely still, allowing him to touch her, to stroke her skin. “He ran off when our daughter was born. What about you, Marlon? No wife and kids?”

  He released his hold on her hand and leaned back in his chair, taking a long pull on his beer. “I was married once. She took the kids and left the state. I haven’t seen them in several years.”

  Elle knew without asking why his ex-wife took off with the children. But she asked anyway. “Why did she leave the state with your kids?”

  Marlon shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Who knows. Can I get you another beer?”