by Ker Dukey
Twenty-Two
Mona
I pace the house, a nervous fluttering ever present. The windows don’t feel like they’re for me to look out of, but for evil to look in. I haven’t been able to shake the feeling of being watched since I arrived here.
The front door opening has me exhaling in relief. They’re home.
My stomach lurches, an icy hand snaking up my spine in warning.
“Mr. Ward, I didn’t expect you to be here.” I try to smile and play off my unease. Men like him enjoy the fear they instill, and last time, he quickly overpowered me. I need to play this better, leave room to flee. Colt and Cash left me here to deal with him, and now here he is.
“It is my house, dear.” He smirks, taking a couple steps toward me. It’s not the same as when Colt smirks. There’s no beauty in it.
“I’m sorry, I thought Colt owned this house.” I shouldn’t provoke him, but I can’t seem to control my tongue.
His lips thin, his eyes narrowing to slits. “I own Colt. Everything they have is because of me—every penny started out as mine.”
“I meant no offense,” I lie.
“Of course you didn’t. You islanders never do. You’re all so good and wholesome on the surface, but deep down, you sin worse than us.”
“I never claimed I wasn’t a sinner,” I tell him. I recognize what I am.
“Why did you come here?”
“To find my sister’s killer.”
“And have you?” He closes in, backing me against a wall. My pulse races, pushing the blood so fast to my heart, I think I may pass out. “Have you found her killer? Was it while you’ve been sharing a bed with her true love?”
Guilt suffocates me at those words. I haven’t been sexual with Cash, but if I had been, Clara wouldn’t hate me for it. I have to believe that.
“Cash and I are just friends.” More lies. What is he to you?
“Oh.” He laughs, holding a finger to my lips and shaking his head. “Not Cash, Colt.”
My head spins, pain and confusion raging war. He steps away from me, a smug look on his face.
“He didn’t tell you sweet little virgin Clara came to him to declare her love?”
“Lies,” I growl.
“I’m not the one who lies. You see, Cash hated me for not wanting him with her and blamed me for her death. I raised those boys, and he actually questioned whether I was capable of doing that to someone.”
“Are you?” I ask.
A sinister smile tugs at his lips.
“It doesn’t matter at this point. People made up their minds. I took out my rage and bitterness over my wife on your sister, according to the media. Only…they lacked any real evidence, so no conviction. Where Cash should have been looking is a lot closer to home.”
“I don’t believe you,” I snap, shoving at his chest.
He stumbles backward, howling with mirth up at the ceiling. “Wow, you’re a little spitfire.”
“Leave.” I point toward the front door.
Holding up his hands in surrender, he walks over to a bookshelf and removes a book. There’s a panel back there. He inserts a number sequence, and the entire wall shifts, opening up. “You can see for yourself.”
I step around the couch and keep a generous amount of space between us as I make my way inside the secret room. Monitors fill the entire back wall. Rooms from inside the house flicker on the screens. My stomach tightens when I see the guest room I used when I first got here, including the bathroom. Oh God, you can see so clearly. My eyes dart to Colt’s room—a perfect view of the entire space, including the bed where we made love. “Is this recording?” I ask, a lump lodging in my throat.
“Every nasty detail,” he teases, making me want to cover my skin in bleach and scrub. “Conveniently, not on the night of the storm when he was no doubt butchering poor little Annemarie to get back at me for dating her.”
Lies. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t have. He spent the night making love to me.
“Have you been watching this?” I ask.
“Oh please, I don’t need to watch my son’s fuck some whore from that island. I’m not a creep, despite what the media would have you believe.”
His words stab into me like he’s wielding a knife.
“Here,” He steps beside me, clicking on buttons laid out on a desk.
The date he enters flashes on the screen. One by one, the monitors flicker and the dining room comes into view. “I’ll leave you to witness for yourself, then you can make up your own mind.”
His shoes click across the floor. I hold my breath until I hear the front door open and close.
Suddenly, Colt comes into view on the screen. He’s younger, not as refined.
“What do you want?” he sneers to someone just off camera. My heart screams in agony when Clara’s form comes into view, her long curtain of hair curling around her shoulders. She’s so vibrant, so alive. I want to reach through the screen and hold her.
“I’m not going back,” she states firmly. I look closer, seeing her necklace around her neck. She was wearing it the night she was killed.
Colt turns, appraising her with a curious eye. “And this is my business why?”
“Because I’m not staying for Cash.”
“Be careful of the next words you speak,” he warns her, his tone so cold, it evokes a shudder throughout my body. It doesn’t seem to have the same effect on her, though. She shuffles closer, almost flinging herself at him. “I love you. Please, Colt.”
He shoves her away, making her fall to the ground. A sob overcomes her body.
“I told you when you declared this unwarranted affection it would never happen.”
“Why do you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you. I hate the way you people are never satisfied with what you have. You always try to take more, hurting whoever the fuck you want in the process.” He towers over her, menacing.
“I don’t understand,” she pleads.
“That’s because you’re selfish and young. You only think of what you want, need, feel. Does it matter that I feel nothing for you? I look at you, and my heart is black.”
“Stop.”
“You’re the first woman my brother has ever loved, and you betray that by being here.” Her gasp mimics my own.
“I haven’t encouraged this affection. I don’t understand where it’s coming from,” he growls.
“It hurts,” she beseeches.
“What does?”
“My heart.”
“It will heal, and so will my brother’s once you’re gone.”
Her head whips up, and my insides quake as I watch him drag her to her feet.
“What is this?”
I startle at Cash’s voice. I hadn’t heard him come in. He stands next to Colt, Colt’s eyes full of fire. “Stop this now,” he barks, pushing their father to the ground. He’s bloody and beaten. They must have crossed paths when he tried to leave and they dragged him back here.
“No. Don’t touch a fucking thing.” Cash holds his hand up, his eyes watching with the same horror.
I wouldn’t know how to stop it. Tears track down my cheeks. I didn’t realize I was even crying. I shift, keeping distance between us.
“What is this?” I ask Colt, hiccupping.
“It’s nothing. Turn it off,” he warns.
The camera trails him dragging Clara from the house before it turns black.
“Get the outside camera feed up,” Cash barks, making me leap out of my skin.
“I don’t understand how,” I sob. “Colt?” I choke out his name.
“It’s not what it looks like. Cash…”
Cash begins searching for the other camera feeds.
“It’s not there, Cash,” Colt warns.
“What the hell do you mean it’s not there?”
The tension is palpable. Cash rushes Colt when he doesn’t find anymore, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket.
“The camera feed only shows the front of the house. The ones
for the dock and surrounding acres got knocked out in the storm we had that week and weren’t fixed for over a month.”
“That’s real fucking convenient. Just like Annemarie.”
“That’s what your father said,” I say, pointing to him.
Mr. Ward spits blood, swiping at his dripping nose.
“I told you it wasn’t me, Cash. Colt killed her.”
“Liar!” Colt roars, kicking out, his foot colliding with Mr. Ward’s mouth. A tooth comes loose, hitting the wall beside him. His body falls to the floor with a grunt.
“Is that who showed you this?” Colt turns to me, the pulse in his throat jumping rapidly. His eyes are frenzied. Manic.
“He said you were her true love,” I sob.
“What the hell did you fucking do, Colt?” Cash screams.
“No.” I stumble. “I can’t believe this.”
“Mona?” Colt breathes, taking a step toward me. “Let me explain.”
“You made me feel safe with you.”
“You are. Please…” He reaches out, but I shake my head.
“Just tell me, did you steal her heart, Colt?” I weep.
Silence fills the room, both Cash and I captivated by the emotions overcoming Colt’s features.
“I broke her heart. I didn’t steal it.” He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck, exhaustion overwhelming him.
“Were you sleeping with her?” Cash asks in defeat.
“No,” Colt barks. “Because you fucking told me she was different, you didn’t want to share her.”
“Clara didn’t belong here, and neither do I,” I choke out, shaking my head.
My heart cracks open, bleeding at their feet.
“Don’t do this. Don’t let him win,” Colt demands.
I look at their father, then to him. “I don’t trust any of you.” Sorrow grips my throat.
The ground shakes, my world crumbling around me. I’m fighting a war inside myself, buried alive in the wreckage of Clara’s death.
The fire has burned out. All that’s left is ash.
“Mona?” They both say my name, but I hold my hands up.
“Don’t come near me,” I croak. “Stay the hell away from me.”
“Mona...” Colt calls my name, defeat in his tone.
“Stay the hell away from her,” Cash growls, swinging a fist that collides with Colt’s jaw. They squabble, knocking into walls and the table. I rush past them. Flinging open the front door, I run straight into a wall of flesh. My mouth pops open. “Father?”
“Mona,” Eli calls out, stepping from behind my father and clutching me to him.
“Eli?”
“Thank God we found you.”
The noise from inside echoes to where I stand, the grunts and smashing of furniture. Is this really happening?
“What are you doing here?” I ask them both, but Eli answers me.
“What are you doing here is a better question?”
“It’s time to come home, Mona.” My father lifts a hand and smothers my mouth with a cloth, a strong scent burning my nostrils and throat.
My vision blurs as I struggle against his hold, then nothingness clouds my eyes, darkening everything.
Twenty-Three
Cash
Anger, burning and palpable, hums through my veins. A heavy weight inside my chest steals my breath. All this time, I’ve been looking for answers, holding on to hope that my father didn’t kill Clara, that her death wasn’t my fault. The idea that Colt could hurt her feels too much of a burden to fucking bare. My mind pictures her beautiful face etched with fear as she looked up at a replica of the man who promised her the world.
“You have to listen to me,” Colt demands, his nose bloody.
“Fuck you. Did you really do it?” I ask, my fist raised above him after knocking him to the floor.
“How can you think that?”
“What about Annemarie?”
“I couldn’t give a fuck about Annemarie. Why the hell would I kill her? This is Dad setting us against each other, you have to see that. He’s always hated our bond.”
“Arghhh,” I roar, punching the floor beside his head before getting to my feet. Sharp pain splits my skull. “I can’t think,” I groan. Chaos rages in my brain.
“Clara came to me that night.” Colt pants, trying to get himself together. I recognize he could have fought back, kicked my ass, but he didn’t. He took my rage.
“She had a thing for me, but I didn’t encourage it. I don’t understand why she felt anything for me. I wasn’t even civil to her. I was an asshole, but she seemed to feed off that.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m fucking sorry. I didn’t do anything. I told her to get on our boat and go the fuck home. When she refused, I drove her myself.”
“Why couldn’t she fucking love me? I would have moved heaven and earth for her.” It fucking hurts more than anything. The truth has hunted me down, and it’s just more fucking pain.
“I love you, Cash. You’re my brother, my blood. If I’d known she would die that night…I’ve gone over that night a million times in my head, I would’ve done anything to change things.”
“She was a fucking slut anyway, why the fuck can’t you both just forget her?” our father yells, blood pouring from his mouth.
I march over to the safe, pull out the hardballer gun, and aim it between my father’s eyes, firing off two rounds in his head. He doesn’t have time to react, to see it coming. Bang, bang—lights out. I should have done that five years ago. Even if he didn’t kill her, he hurt her. He was vile to her. To Mona.
“Cash…” Colt says my name in disbelief, eyes wide and hands up.
“He had that coming,” I state, and Colt nods in agreement.
“We can’t let her leave,” he tells me. “Not like this.”
“What do you suggest, brother? Locking her in your tower again?”
“I didn’t explain well enough. She needs to hear the words.”
“And what words are they?” I sling the gun on the coffee table and pick up a decanter, swigging the liquor straight from the bottle.
“That I didn’t fucking kill Clara!” Colt exclaims, snatching the drink from me and taking a gulp.
“Those videos are awfully damning,” I snort.
“You know me better than that.” He glowers.
“I understand you’d kill to protect me from pain. If she didn’t love me, you realize how badly I would have taken that fucking news.” I sit, my head in my hands.
“You’re right, you would have spiraled into darkness, killing yourself with booze and cheap women like you did when she died. But you’d also come out of it too, when something real came along, when it wasn’t an infatuation but real love, like with Mona.”
“What?” I look up at him, not sure if I heard him right.
“Come on, Cash. I know you better than you know yourself.”
I replay everything he’s said in the last twenty minutes, dissecting and arranging it all. “You said you dropped her off yourself. You drove her across the water.”
“Can you imagine the shock I felt finding her body on our property the next morning?”
“How did she get back here?” I stand.
“What are you saying?” He hands me back the drink.
“I’m saying someone either traveled to the island and took her right where you left her or…”
“Or someone from there killed her and brought her back here.”
“You heard what Mona said about our mother. She said she wasn’t on the island, never returned—just like they thought about Clara.”
“Fuck. Do you think the killer is from the island? What about Annemarie?”
“Mona said someone was watching her, felt it all the time. What if that someone followed her here?”
The possessive beast inside me emerges.
“We need to find Mona.” Colt panics.
“She’s on foot. She couldn’t have gone far.” I try to
placate him, but my own anxious heart is thundering in my chest.
“What are we going to do about him?” I nod to our dead father bleeding out all over the place.
“We can get rid of him later. Let’s go find our girl.”
Twenty-Four
Mona
My eyes spring open. I gasp, shooting up from a laying position. An engine roars as we sway. We’re on a boat. No!
“You’re awake. Good,” my father says coolly.
“I’m not going back! No! Stop!” I yell.
“I’ll give you another dose,” my father warns, his tone is deadly.
I get up, looking all around, seeing the house fade into the sunset.
No. No.
My soul dies a little more every second we spend moving farther away from Colt. He couldn’t be the man who killed Clara. Surely, I’d feel it.
I’d been so lost before meeting him. He awakened me, then broke me into a thousand pieces.
How could Colt be innocent? The video shows him mishandling her, being cruel. She died that night, her body found on their property. There’s just too much evidence to be able to believe it wasn’t him, yet my soul tells me it’s not possible.
A distraught sob catches in my throat.
“It’s okay. When we get back, you can repent,” my father sneers. His fist clutches a handful of my hair, tugging my head back, making me wince in pain. “Look at this trash on your face. Did they make you their slut just like they did your sister?” It’s just a flavored gloss on my lips.
“You knew about Clara and them?” I whimper.
“Of course I did. Their father made sure of that. What a vile creature he is. It’s no wonder his wife left him to be reborn with us.”
“Where is Judith?” I ask, curious to understand what happened to her.
“Judith broke our laws,” he scorns, releasing me with a shove. I knock into Eli, who’s looking out at the ocean rather than at me. “She abandoned us to seek medical attention. Her belief wasn’t strong enough. This is why I stopped recruiting. Only pure bred believers are blessed with his light.”
Eli doesn’t even blink, the good little servant not stopping the rough handling my father likes to dish out.
