The Guardian(51)
Author: Nicholas Sparks

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What did you do!?” she screamed, unable to control herself. “Where is he?”

Richard took another step toward her, his voice still gentle. “I didn’t have a choice, Julie. You know that. He was controlling you, and I couldn’t let that continue. But you’re safe now. I’ll take care of you.”

He took another step, and Julie suddenly slid back, away from Singer.

“He didn’t love you, Julie,” he said. “Not the way I do.”

He’s going to kill me, she thought. He killed Mike and Singer and Pete, and now he’s going to kill me. Julie began to stand as Richard closed in, her terror building with each step he took. She could see it in his eyes, she could see exactly what he was going to do.

He’s going to kill me, but he’ll rape me first. . . .

The realization was almost disabling, but something inside her screamed, Run! and Julie reacted instinctively.

She bolted, not bothering to look back, her feet slipping in the sand as she charged down the beach.

Richard didn’t try to stop her. Instead he smiled, knowing there was nowhere for her to go. She would tire herself out, he knew; her panic would undo her. Instead, he hooked the gun into his belt and began to jog after her, enough to keep her in sight and close the distance when the time was right.

The Guardian

Mike was drifting in and out of consciousness. Trapped somewhere between a world of reality and dreams, his mind was finally able to latch on to the fact that he was bleeding heavily.

And that Julie needed him. Trembling, he slowly began to rise.

The Guardian

Julie tried to keep up a fast pace as she ran toward the lights of the only beach house that seemed to be occupied. Her legs were growing weary, and she began to feel as though she were running in place. The lights looked close, but she couldn’t seem to reach them.

No, she said to herself, no! He won’t catch me. I’ll make it, and they’ll help me. I’ll scream for help and they’ll call the police and . . .

But her legs . . . her lungs were burning . . . the pounding of her heart . . .

Only terror kept her moving.

Running as hard as she could, she stole a glance over her shoulder.

Despite the darkness, she could see Richard closing in on her.

I’m not going to make it, she suddenly realized.

She was stumbling now. Her calves were cramping. It was all she could do to keep upright.

And still he was coming. . . .

Where is everyone? she wanted to scream. Help me!

She knew with cold certainty that the sound of the waves would swallow her screams. Another few steps and she looked behind her again. Closer.

She could hear his footsteps now.

But I can’t keep going. . . .

She veered toward the dunes, hoping that on the other side there might be a place to hide.

The Guardian

Richard could see her hair rippling out behind her. He was close now, close enough to try to reach for it.

Almost there, he thought, when suddenly she turned and began to charge up the dunes. Off balance, Richard stumbled slightly but was soon on the chase again. He laughed aloud.

Such spirit! Such effort! She was every bit his equal. He almost clapped his hands in delight.

The Guardian

Julie could see a house towering behind the dunes, though climbing up the sand was almost too much for her; feet slipping, she had to use her hands for balance, and by the time she reached the top, her legs were buckling.

For a moment, she registered the home itself; built on pilings, it had room for cars to be parked beneath it, but little cover. The house next to it, however, was more heavily landscaped, and she turned that way.

That was when she felt Richard snare her feet like a football player making an open field tackle. Losing her balance, she tumbled down the far side of the dunes.

When Richard reached her, he bent over and took her by the arm, helping her to her feet.

“You really are a prize,” he said, grinning as he caught his breath. “I’ve known it from the moment we met.”

Julie flailed in his grasp and felt his fingers dig into her arm. She struggled harder.

“Don’t be this way, Julie,” he said. “Can’t you see this was always how it was going to turn out?”

Julie jerked her arm. “Let me go!” she screamed.

Richard tightened his grip, making her wince. He broke into an amused grin, as if asking, See how pointless this is?

“We should probably be going,” he suggested calmly.

“I’m not going anywhere with you!”

She jerked again, finally breaking free from his grasp, but as she moved away from him, she felt him push her from behind, sending her to the ground again.

Staring down at her, he shook his head slightly.

“You okay?” he asked. “I’m sorry I had to do that, but we need to talk.”

Talk? He wanted to talk?

Screw you, she thought. And screw this.

As soon as he began moving toward her, Julie got to her feet and tried to run, but Richard suddenly reached for her hair and jerked it hard.

She heard him give a bewildered laugh.

“Why are you making this so hard?” he asked.

The Guardian

On the beach, Mike was trying to stand, reaching for the stairs, fighting nausea as the pain shot through him, his thoughts random and fragmented-

Getting up . . . have to call the police . . . help Julie . . . but the pain . . . shot . . . pain . . . where am I . . . that steady roar . . . again and again . . . pain . . . coming in waves . . . waves . . . the ocean . . . Julie . . . have to help her . . .

He took a step.

Then another.

The Guardian

Julie swung wildly, hitting Richard on the chest and on the face. He pulled her hair again, making her scream.

“Why do you keep fighting me?” Richard asked, his voice and expression calm, as if trying to reason with a wayward child. “Don’t you understand that it’s over? There’s just the two of us now. There’s no reason for you to act this way.”

“Let me go!” she screamed. “Stay away from me.”

“Think of all we can do together,” he said. “We’re two of a kind, you know. Survivors.”

“We’ll do nothing together!” she screamed. “I hate you!”

He pulled savagely on her hair again, bringing her to her knees. “Don’t say that.”

“I hate you!” she screamed again.

“I’m serious,” he said, his voice lower, more ominous. “I know you’re upset, but I don’t want to hurt you, Jessica.”

“I’m not Jessica!” she screamed.

The Guardian

Halfway up, Mike fell to his knees but dragged himself forward. With one hand holding his stomach, he reached for the railing and pulled himself up.

He was nearing the top now and could see Pete, facedown on the deck, blood pooling around his head.

Another couple of steps and he reached the deck, making his way to the door. Without the railing he was off balance, but he kept his eyes focused on the door, concentrating on what he had to do.

The Guardian

Richard stared at her, his expression curious, as if he didn’t know what she meant. He blinked, and his head began tilting to the side, like a child first studying his reflection in a mirror.

“What did you say?”

“I’m not Jessica!” she screamed again.

Richard’s free hand went behind his back; a moment later, she saw the gun.

The Guardian

Mike reached the knob and turned it, feeling disembodied as the door swung open.

The phone, he thought. Have to get to the phone before it’s too late.

That was when he heard something crash through the front door. Raising his eyes, he suddenly felt a surge of relief.

“Julie needs help,” he rasped out. “Down the beach. . . .”

The Guardian

Shocked by Mike’s condition, Jennifer quickly moved to his side and helped him to the chair. Then she grabbed the phone and dialed the emergency number. When it began ringing, she handed him the phone.

“Get an ambulance!” she said. “Can you do that?”

Mike nodded, breathing hard as he raised the phone to his ear. “Pete . . . outside . . .”

Jennifer surged toward the door as she heard Mike requesting an ambulance. On the deck, she first believed that Pete was dead. Blood was pouring from his head, but as she bent over to check on him, he moved his arm and moaned.

“Don’t move,” she said. “Ambulance is on the way.”

She raised her eyes to the stairs. A moment later, she was charging down the steps.

The Guardian

Richard put the gun to her temple, and Julie instinctively stopped moving. Gone was the calm expression on his face; reality seemed to have deserted him. She could see it in the way he looked at her, in the rasping sound he made as he drew a breath.

“I love you,” he repeated. “I’ve always loved you.”

Don’t move, she thought. If you do, he’ll kill you.

“But you’re not giving me a chance to show you.” He pulled her by the hair, moving her ear closer to his mouth.

“Say it. Say you love me.”

Julie said nothing.

“Say it!” he screamed, and Julie flinched at the fury in his tone. It sounded raw, almost feral. She could feel the heat of his breath on the side of her face.

“I gave you a chance, and I even forgave you for what you’ve done to me! For what you forced me to do. Now say it!”

The fear was in her chest now, in her throat, in her limbs.

“I love you,” she whimpered, on the verge of tears.

“Say it so I can hear it. Like you mean it.”

Beginning to cry. “I love you.”

“Again.”

Crying harder. “I love you.”

“Say you want to come with me.”

“I want to come with you.”

“Because you love me.”

“Because I love you.”

And like a dream, from the corner of her eye she saw a vision cresting over the dune, her guardian charging through the darkness.

The Guardian

As the vision before her eyes took shape, Julie watched as Singer launched himself at Richard, snarling, his jaw clamping down on the arm holding the gun.

Singer didn’t let go, and both Julie and Richard toppled to the side, Richard jerking at his arm, trying to free himself. Singer was tugging and shaking his head, giving it everything he had as Richard began to scream, the gun tumbling from his hand.

He was on his back now, fighting to keep Singer from his throat.

His face contorting, Richard held back Singer with one hand and began reaching for the gun. The dog didn’t stop his attack, but Julie screamed, and it was the sound that gave her the strength to get up and move.

She scrambled up, knowing she didn’t have much time.

Behind her, Richard’s fingers curled around the handle of the gun.

It was the sound of the gun going off that made Julie suddenly freeze again. Singer yelped, his cry long and drawn out.

“Singer!” Julie screamed. “Oh, God . . . noooo!”

Another shot and another yelp, this time weaker. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Richard maneuver Singer’s body off him and get to his feet.

Julie began to tremble uncontrollably.

Singer was on his side, struggling now to get up, growling and crying at the same time, writhing in pain, blood gushing onto the sand.

In the distance came the sound of sirens.

“We have to go now,” Richard said. “We’re almost out of time.”

But all Julie could do was stare at Singer.

“Now!” Richard boomed. He grabbed her by the hair again and tugged. Julie fought him, kicking and screaming, when a voice called out from the top of the dune.

“Freeze!”

Richard and Julie saw Officer Jennifer Romanello at the same time. Richard pointed the gun toward her and fired wildly; a moment later, a choked sigh escaped him. There was a sharp, burning pain in his chest, a sound like a freight train in his ears. Suddenly the gun in his hand seemed ridiculously heavy. He fired again, missed, and felt another burning sensation in his throat, forcing him backward. He felt the blood pooling in his lungs, hearing the gurgle as he tried to draw a breath. He couldn’t swallow, the sticky fluid making it impossible. He wanted to cough it up, to spit it in the officer’s direction, but his strength was fading quickly. The gun slipped from his hands, and he dropped to his knees, his mind slowing. All he’d wanted for Julie was happiness, their happiness. The shapes around him were growing darker, dimming by the second. He turned toward Julie and tried to speak, but his mouth couldn’t form the words.

But still, he clung to his dream, his dream of a life with Julie, the woman he loved. Julie, he thought, my sweet Jessica . . .

Richard fell forward into the sand.

Julie stared at his body, then turned toward Singer.

He was on his side, panting hard, his mouth hanging open. Julie went to him, bending down, struggling to see him through her tears.

He whimpered as she laid her hand on his head, and his tongue flicked at it.

“Oh . . . baby,” she wept.

He was bleeding from two deep wounds, the blood soaking into the sand beneath him. Shaking, Julie put her head on his body and Singer whimpered again. His eyes were wide and scared, and when he tried to lift his head, he yelped, the sound nearly breaking her heart.

“Don’t move . . . I’ll get you to the vet, okay?”

She could feel his breath on her skin, rapid and shallow. He licked her again, and she kissed him.

“You’re so good, sweetie. You were so brave . . . so brave . . .”

His eyes were on her. He whimpered again, and Julie stifled her cry.

“I love you, Singer,” she murmured as the muscles in his body began to relax.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. No more fighting. I’m safe now, you can go to sleep. . . .”

Epilogue

Julie went into the bedroom while Mike was cooking in the kitchen, the smell of spaghetti sauce filling the house. She flicked on the light.