The Podcast

Chapter 39

Wednesday night

A fractured scream escapes from Sumner's throat as Ezra shoves her flat against the studio's fabric-coated dark walls, his forearm crushing against her windpipe. He isn't a big man, nothing like Lucas' stature, but the force of his strength catches her by surprise. She can't move her head enough to make out whatever it is he has in his hand. She opens her mouth again like a fish pulled from the water, her lips forming his name as the pressure against her throat steals any sound from her lips.

"When you try to scream, I can see the lovely pulse in your throat, Sumner. The world's most seductive voice, entirely under my control. Go on," Ezra presses impossibly harder, Sumner's eyes widening at the constriction of air, "try to scream again for me, Sumner."

Sumner chokes as she tries to inhale a desperate breath, the wheezing sound mingling with Ezra's heavy breathing, his nose just inches from hers. She can see his dark pupils dilate.

"They always beg." Ezra looks down, pulling the glinting object up higher into Sumner's line of sight. "Whenever they see this, they just start to beg uncontrollably. Before I even touch it against their skin. Every single one of them."

His voice is distant, almost reverent, like he's remembering those past encounters. He abruptly releases his forearm from Sumner's throat, grabbing both of her hands in one of his fists and hoisting them overhead. She feels her body wretch as she gasps for precious air.

"Ezra—"

He raises the knife to her neck, the blade barely a centimeter from her skin. "All this time, Sumner, I've been your biggest fan. Your most loyal admirer. When I killed Chloe, I did it for you. After what she and your father did behind your back? You don't have to admit it to me out loud, Sumner. I already know you're grateful to me for what I did. That you'd have me do it all over again."

"No! Please—"

"Don't." Ezra grazes her skin with the blade, pinching at the tender flesh. "Shh, Sumner. The louder you scream the more my knife will dig into your beautiful throat."

"Please." Her voice comes out breathy and hoarse, barely audible.

"It was all supposed to end with Chloe of course. I'd worked hard to frame your father, and so did you. Even then, Sumner, without realizing it we made a great team. You with your little story about seeing a man that looked like your father on campus. The way you took the note from Chloe's bed, my note for you, just like I knew you would. Without even having to ask, I knew you'd understand. I really thought of everything." Ezra drags the knife an inch, a painful hiss spilling from Sumner's quivering lips. "Except for the DNA evidence. I'd been so focused on covering my own, I hadn't thought of planting his. Your father's."

Sumner breathes forcefully through her nose, her legs unsteady like she's at sea, the small dark recording room still awash in red light, blurring and tilting back and forth like liquid.

"I knew you wouldn't be satisfied until he was locked away for life. I knew that, Sumner. But there was also something else, something I hadn't quite expected. As you know, I'd killed Chloe for you. But the power—holy fuck that power—wiedling it over her as I slashed my knife again and again into her pretty tan skin. Do you know, Sumner, that when you kill someone you can see the life leave their eyes? Their initial shock turns to fear which turns to instinctual determination to survive, the animalistic need to fight back. It's beautiful, watching that crescendo and then slowly seeing it burn out."

Sumner's lids flutter open and shut, her body shutting down with raw, carnal fear. Ezra drags the blade again, a rivulet of crimson blood trickling down the front of her neck.

"It's funny really, how much you talk about murder and death. But you do it all from your ivory tower, tucked safely behind a mic. Until you've killed, Sumner, really truly killed someone with your own two hands, you'll never fully understand the thing you talk about on the podcast. The thing that brings you millions. Unprecedented internet fame. But me," Ezra moves in closer, his lips so close to hers she can feel his warm breath fan over her mouth, "I know it inside and out. And I fucking love it. But I'm still loyal to you, Sumner. Always. I haven't lost sight of my original mission. Any day now, that dense, arrogant detective will realize your dad's hair has been found at every copycat crime scene. They'll have no choice but to arrest him for murder."

Ezra keeps the knife held firmly against Sumner's neck as he pulls a ziploc baggie from his back pocket. He holds it under the glow of the red light. At first it appears empty. Sumner strains her eyes to see what's inside.

"Amazing how much hair you can find in someone's bed, in their bathroom sink." Ezra shakes the bag, that sinister smile curling his lips. "How about one more murder scene that we can pin on your father?" Ezra tips the sharpest end of the blade against Sumner's throat, an eerily unnatural groan reverberating through the recording room.

Sumner imagines the night watch security guard, faceless in his nondescript black uniform. She should have asked for his name. She should have told people 'thank you' more, and not in that closed-lip way Ina Glaser had instructed. But in a genuine way. She should have let her icy guard down and her grudges fade. She should have pursued truth and justice from the beginning instead of seeking a dark and twisted revenge that has been the foundation for everything she's built.

She imagines this faceless person coming to her rescue, throwing open the room of the recording studio, running toward her at the sound of her garbled screams.

Then she loses all hope—because all the top-tier recording studios at AudioHaven are designed to be completely soundproof.

"Scream for the audio, Sumner. Just focus on that glowing red light, on the ratings this last episode will get. Can you imagine it? Your millions of sleuths tuning in until the very end. This scream is the last time they'll hear you. Of course, it didn't have to end like this, you know? I thought we were in this together. That you trusted me, that you'd protect me after all that I've done for you. That someday you'd be mine."

Sumner feels the tears stream down her cheeks, a wail from deep within her chest deflating from her body like the last gulp of air before being drowned at sea.

"I'll make sure your father still rots in prison, that's my last promise to you." Ezra leans in closer, his lips grazing the shell of her ear, his body trembling with adrenaline and excitement at her fear.

"A girl so pretty, so fair, so lost, I'd do anything to own her, no matter the cost."