Perfect (Rewrite)

Chapter Seventy Two

Jacob woke up on the couch back in the house. All the lights were off; someone must've cut the power. He sat up and rubbed the back of his head, wondering if he was back at the house he had come accustomed to or a different one. The floor kept silent as he walked up the stairs and down the hall and to the end of it. None of the doors had names on them. Maybe he wasn't as lucky as he had first thought. After the door in front of him swung open, he peaked inside the room and found someone laying on the bed asleep.

He had two options. Option one, go back downstairs and wait it out. Option two, join the someone in bed and hope for the best. He chose the latter of the two and crept towards the sleeping stranger, praying with every part of his mind that it would be Chloe laying next to him when morning came. The bed shifted with his weight, but the sleeping someone didn't even flinch. They were sound asleep in the darkness of the room, and Jacob knew he too would be soon. His eyes shut as he said one last prayer aloud, "Please, let this be Chloe."

-----

Morning came and Jacob cranked his neck in an effort to pop it. He tried to lift himself up but was immediately stopped. His eyes opened to find three people staring at him intently, fury frozen in their eyes. "Hey guys," Jacob said before trying to lift himself off the chair again. Wait, when did he get in a chair? He looked down at his body, sheets tied around him; they bound him to the chair. "What's happening here?"

"I read some interesting things about you," Chloe said, holding the notebook close to her chest. Jacob glanced to her and then shrugged his shoulders as if it wasn't anything important, as if it didn't have every detail about him in it.

"I already told you everything I know."

"When?"

"The other night," Jacob answered. "Then I left you that note, apologizing for lying to you, to all of you." He glanced at them all, but they stared back with the same stone cold expressions. Jacob wouldn't be charming his way out of this one. "What did you read about me?"

"Enough to be very suspicious."

Jacob smirked and then shook his head. "I can help you."

"How can you help us?"

"Because I know things."

"And why do you know things?" Margaret demanded. She was good at interrogation; Chloe nodded in approval. She had even taken it upon herself to slap some sense into Rachel. the day before. Maybe she had the guts to do the same with him, then again, he was twice Rachel's size, so there was no telling if Margaret's courage would be up for the task.

"You already know why," Jacob said through clenched teeth, wondering if he would end up the same as Rachel. No, he decided he wouldn't; then he looked to Chloe. She wouldn't let them kill him. She was too nice to watch such a thing happen, too kind to let an innocent man die.

"I want to hear you say it." Margaret folded her arms across her chest and held her chin up high.

Jacob opened his mouth and then closed it without a word. Chloe took a step towards him; he looked back to her, suppressing a smile. He needed to seem oblivious to the obvious outcome. Jacob knew he needed to give them a good enough reason to keep him alive. "I don't know what you're talking about." He drew out his puppy dog eyes, begging the three of them silently to let him go. None of them changed, not even a muscle contracted on a single one of their faces. They were good, but he was better.

"We're giving you an ultimatum," David said. "I wouldn't waste it if I were you."

"I seriously have no idea what you're talking about."

Chloe took another step towards him, her hands held behind her back. What was she hiding? He couldn't figure it out; he still hadn't pieced it all together. "Don't play games with us."

"I'm not."

Chloe took another step forward. Only three steps away, three steps until whatever was behind her hands would face him. He fought against the restraints that tied his hands together; they loosened a bit. Jacob couldn't help but give them a wry smile. It was foolish to use something as weak as sheets to tie someone up, especially someone with Jacob's build. The stringy sheets were no match compared to his physique. They were too workable to be put to good use. Stretching out the small hole into a larger one, he kept the rest of his arm stiff to avoid attention being drawn to his subtle movement. His hands were almost free. Of course, the rest of his body would still be tied down, but at least he had a fighting chance with the help of his fists.

"Tell us what you know or face the wrath of Chloe."

"The wrath of Chloe?" Jacob laughed. "She wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Funny," Chloe said with a hint of a smile. "Considering I'm the one who killed Rachel." She waited a minute to see his reaction play out; he was completely unfazed. "Of course, you probably already knew that, didn't you?"

"No."

"Funny how you're not even questioning it though," David said. "You did just say that Chloe wouldn't hurt a fly, if that's your honest opinion of her, then why are not shocked by what she just told you?"

"I am."

"Really?" David replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "You could've fooled me."

Chloe took another step forward, one more step. Jacob caught wind of what was behind her back. A pillow case, exactly how one of the rumors at the meeting had explained it. Only no one had accused Chloe of being the murderer. Not a single one them would've ever even considered her to be the culprit, but Jacob saw now that it was her, and she would do it again. She would if she had to.

Jacob's hands finally came free, but he didn't move them, not even an inch. They needed to believe he was still subdued, at least for a while longer, moving now was a death sentence.  Sure, he was stronger than any one of them, but together, it would be easy to capture him, pin him to the ground, and then finish the job. Chloe was only a step away, and he knew she wouldn't be afraid to take him down if she saw him as a threat. She was smarter than he could've ever imagined. The doctors were wrong, the notebook was wrong. Chloe wasn't just stronger than him; she was better than him in every way imaginable. It was almost funny how it took him this long to have his epiphany.

"This is your last chance," David said. "Tell us everything you know, or-"

"Or what?" Jacob asked. "You'll have Chloe here smother me with that pillowcase." She removed the fabric bag from behind her back and fluffed it out. "I know you won't do it, Chloe. You're not the killing type."

"You don't know me at all," Chloe responded; then she stepped forward and lifted the pillowcase up. Slowly, she lowered it to his head. Jacob was well prepared to strike first, his arms were about to thrust outward when she dropped the pillowcase and stepped back towards David. He welcomed her with open arms as a sob worked its way out of her. Her four words stopped Jacob from making any sudden movements, "He called our bluff."