by Bry Ann
After Ajax drops me off, I'm in a trance. I don’t want to see anyone. I don’t want to talk to anyone. There’s no way Ajax is delusional about feeling like we’re being watched, especially after seeing my birth father for the first time in almost twenty years. That wasn’t a delusion either. He was there.
Which means my dad lied.
I feel it in my soul.
I know his intentions were good, but how could he lie to me about this? I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to hide away so I no longer have to live in a world where my biological father can see me. It makes me feel disgusting.
I want to claw my skin and rip my eyes out. I'm not even in my room yet before my fingers find my hair and I start to tug. A sense of relief washes over me immediately. So I do it again. And again. And again. Until I'm sitting on the floor, holding clumps of my hair that I spend so much time on, riddled with shame.
Why does he have to be alive?
Why did my dad lie?
Why do monsters always get lucky?!
I'm torn between storming into my dad’s office and screaming everything I feel at him and sitting in my room for weeks on a hunger strike.
Shit. Shit, shit… The memory of a tiny little girl with ratty hair and bruised skin comes to mind but I claw at my hair to shake the memory. Get out of my head. Marie Quantack is dead.
Like my father… my brain says, tormenting me.
Damn it, fuck this. I push to my feet, snatch my bag that I threw on the dresser, and head back downstairs. I can’t be here. I can’t be inside, in my dad’s house, dwelling on this. A mani/pedi is what I need. It’s always been the replacement for my struggle with trichotillomania. I replace destruction with beauty. I love seeing the hands I want to use to destroy myself with become beautiful and colorful.
I pass Dad’s office on the way out. He catches my eye. It’s our signal. If he’s finishing a call but wants to talk or do something after, he’ll do that. I always stop. Always.
But not today.
Today, I meet his eyes so he knows I saw him then walk right out the door. His brown eyes narrow immediately, but I don’t care. He shouldn’t have lied to me. Not about this.
I go to where I know Donald keeps the keys and snatch them. Fuck him too. I don’t know if he’s really done anything, but I bet he knew. He had to. I bet he was part-time driver, part-time bodyguard. So yes, he can get in trouble today for not driving me like he’s done my whole life.
Yes, I learned to drive because Dad is big on education but I’ve never really had to use that. I guess today will be a trial by fire.
I feel the keys shake in my hands as I turn them, but my heart is beating fast. This is what it feels like to be free and independent.
Interesting.
I'm driving like three miles an hour as I exit the gates. I’ll be upset if I get in a car accident, but it would be really bad if I damage Dad’s house. That’s a lot more destruction than I intend to cause today, pissed or not.
I know the way to the nail salon like the back of my hand. I can’t even begin to count the number of times I’ve been here. So although I’ve never driven myself, I know where to turn, where to stop, and what parking lot to pull into. When they see me coming in, everyone straightens. I hate it. This is a place I feel comfortable and it’s a quick reminder that I'm nothing more than a wallet for them, even though to me this is one of the few places I feel relaxed.
Forty-five minutes later, my nails are freshly painted and I don’t feel any better. In fact, I feel worse. I feel empty. Because there’s nothing lower than your known coping skill not working. I round the corner of the strip where the nail salon is to get to my car when a hand tangles in my hair and pulls back—hard—sending alarm coursing through my body. I open my mouth to scream but the next words spoken silence me immediately.
“Daddy missed you, Marie.”
20
Richard
I end the call I'm on immediately. Rain saw our signal that I was ending the call so we could spend some time together and she kept walking. Not once in the nearly twenty years she’s been in my life has she done that. Not only that but she made sure I knew she saw me. I know Rain has an attitude. I learned that back when she was a kid and made that kid like her so she could hurt him for hurting her friend.
But she never has an attitude with me. Not like that she doesn’t.
I snatch my cell phone and dial her number. It goes straight to voicemail. It’s on do not disturb, damn it! I dial the next number I can think of to reach her.
Donald.
“Hello, sir, is everything okay?”
“I need to talk to her.”
There’s a pause. “Rain?”
It takes everything in me not to snap but I take a deep breath and say between clenched teeth, “Yes.”
“I'm not with her, sir,” he says with a hint of worry in his voice. And my stomach drops. I taught Rain to drive but she has no real experience. She always calls Donald. She loves Donald.
“Fuck.”
I hang up and run outside to the driveway. Her car is gone. Damn it, what happened?
I don’t know what I possibly could have… And then, like a dagger to the heart, it hits me. She saw him again, or she sensed him. She knows I lied. She knows he’s alive. That’s the only thing she couldn’t forgive me for.
My hands are shaking as I set my phone down.
She needs space. She’s an adult. Although her piece of shit father is in town, Rain knows that. She wouldn’t endanger herself. I can’t track her down and force her in the house. I can’t do that to her. The last thing I want to do is make her feel like I won’t grant her freedom when she needs it. Besides, her car has security up the wazoo: cameras, alarms, the whole nine yards.
I should have her watched.
Running my hands through my hair, I go back and forth.
No.
No, I won’t.
She’s in her twenties and she’s the most rational, intelligent woman I know. If she felt she were in danger, no matter how mad she was, she’d call Donald at least, and no one knows the danger of Reggie Quantack like her.
So I force myself to leave my phone where it is. That doesn’t mean I calm down, though. I pace. And I pace. And I pace. I try to answer emails, but fail. I'm not being overprotective. She’s just never done this before. I need to know if she’ll forgive me. I need to know she’s okay. I didn’t get normal teenage years with her to get used to this.
When the sun starts to set, that’s when real worry starts to kick in. Rain doesn’t like being alone at night.
I call Kiki first.
“Mr. Brown?” she answers, rightfully confused.
“Hello, Kiki, how are you?” I prefer using her full name, it was beautiful, but her piece of shit ex ruined that.
“I'm good, sir. Is everything okay?
“Have you seen Rain tonight?”
There’s a silence, a very long one, before a very concerned denial comes from the other end of the line. “Is she okay?”
“I'm sure she is,” I mutter. “She left earlier today without Donald. I haven’t seen her since. I think you know… this is unlike her. I just want to make sure she’s okay.”
“No, of course. I’ll call her right now and I’ll talk to Guy. If she doesn’t answer my call, he’ll find her. I know he can.”
I can tell Kiki’s flustered and concerned so I let her go. I don’t mean any disrespect to her, but if she can’t help me confirm Rain’s okay, she’s of no use to me right now; but I agree with her, Guy will be able to find Rain if she doesn’t answer Kiki’s call. God, she’d better or panic will truly set in. She’s mad at me, but she always responds to Kiki. Realizing I forgot to tell her, I pull up Kiki’s contact one more time, to text her this time.
Me: Please tell me if she answers your call. Or if she doesn’t.
Kiki: I promise. I’ll keep you updated. Please keep me updated as well!
Me: I will, Kiki.
Next up
: my favorite person, Ajax Mercier. The first time I call, it goes to voicemail, so I try again.
“Hello,” Ajax answers, sounding distracted.
“Ajax, this is Richard Brown.”
He seems a little hesitant when he answers, “How can I help you?”
“Have you seen Rain?”
“Like… today?”
“No, last year,” I snap.
“Yes, I have,” he replies with a bite to his tone.
I breathe a sigh of relief. “When did you last see her?”
“Early afternoon.”
My heart stops. “So not after 4 p.m.?”
“No,” he says slowly. “What’s wrong?”
His tone is now firm.
“She left upset around 4 p.m., without her driver,” I add. “She left alone. It’s dark now. Rain’s never been out at night by herself. She doesn’t feel safe. I haven’t been able to get a hold of her, but she’s mad at me. I just spoke with Kiki. She’s gonna try and call her.”
Ding!
I pull my phone away to glance at the text.
Kiki: No answer. Guy’s not home, but I'm calling him right now.
My heart stops. “She didn’t answer Kiki’s call,” I whisper. “She always picks up for Kiki.”
“Where did she go? Why would she leave? This morning…” Ajax pauses. “I told her I felt we were being watched. She was upset when I told her that. She knows you lied about her father.”
“I gathered that,” I snap. “That’s why she left. The problem is, I don’t know where she is now.”
“I’ll find her.”
“Ajax, wait!” I yell as he hangs up. “Fuck!” I curse. “Fuck!”
It’s getting late now. Something’s wrong. Rain wouldn’t still be gone. My heart is pounding out of my chest as I dial my head of security. He answers on the first ring.
“Rain’s missing,” I say immediately, now confident that’s a fact. “We will deploy whatever it takes to find her. Is that understood?”
Everyone in this house loves Rain, so he answers firmly and confidently.
“Yes, sir, I would do nothing less for her.”
Not my daughter. Not my Rain.
Please, God.
21
Rain
“Daddy missed you, Marie.”
Just like that, I shut down. I go completely blank as my mind and body separate from each other. His grip on me loosens.
“Now, you’re gonna be a good girl and follow me to the car, aren’t you, Marie?”
My little girl instinct to obey every word he says to avoid pain kicks in, but there’s a piece of me, albeit a small piece, that plays the sound of my dad’s voice telling me to be strong as I cried, it plays Kiki bleeding at the hands of her ex-husband, and it plays the feeling of Ajax’s strong arms wrapped around me. It plays how listening to his bastard of a brother destroyed him. Temporarily, at least. These memories, these people I care about, keep a small piece of me present.
Fighting the two sides of myself, I nod at my birth father. I know my body’s shaking but I can barely feel it.
“Good girl.”
That makes the present side of me want to vomit, but thankfully, there’s another side of myself protecting me from that level of emotion. I feel my feet moving forward, closer and closer to a beat-up old Toyota. When we’re a foot from the door, it hits me. He’s not even touching me. He expects me to just follow.
That’s insulting.
I'm not broken anymore. I'm not tied up in a closet. I'm not unaware that there’s a world outside of him. My body starts to lock up, but I force myself to move. I force my mouth to open and scream. I force myself to use my cross-body handbag as a weapon and I swing it his way. Hard.
I feel it make contact, praying it does enough damage for me to get away. I turn on my heel and run, all while screaming everything I can think of.
Fire. Rape. Help.
I'm about to scream those words on repeat when something hard makes contact with my head. My vision wavers and I become unsteady on my feet. I feel myself stumble back and land in arms that, unfortunately, I’ll know the feel of for the rest of my life.
“I didn’t want to have to do that,” he hisses. “I'm disappointed in you, Marie.”
Chills run up my spine, knowing him disappointed always means punishment.
“My name is Rain,” I whisper, meeting his eyes. “Rain Brown, daughter of Richard Brown.”
His face goes red with fury, his fist lifts, and my world goes black.
“Ugh,” I groan, reaching for my head. What did I do to myself last…? Then it hits me like a bullet to the heart. My dad. Screaming. My world going black. A gasp escapes my lips and my eyes pop open. I have to blink a few times to adapt to the darkness. I'm in the smallest room you can imagine. It’s almost a cage, like the ones he used to put me in, except this one is a tiny, underground room.
I swallow to try and bury the panic. Panic won’t help me. If my life has taught me one thing, it’s that panic and fear won’t erase the memories, won’t erase the pain. So I take deep breaths like my therapist taught me and look around.
Okay, so this room is tiny. Like a large closet. Glancing up, I confirm I'm underground. Okay, that’s fine, I tell myself as tears reach my eyes. No one can hear me scream underground.
No one will think to look here. I’ve seen the crime shows. Anytime someone is found underground, it’s pure luck or there was a witness. That’s my only shot. I'm not in a basement either, based on the way the door is. I can’t look around anymore. My terror is reaching a level I can’t contain. Although it would be way easier to disconnect, I don’t want to. I don’t want to let him touch me without a fight. It’s harder to endure while being present, but in the long run, it will be much easier to recover from.
Because I refuse to believe I’ll never be found.
Kiki will tell Guy and they’ll search endlessly.
Kiki will then inform Ajax, who, although not the typical hero, I know will recruit whoever he needs to in order to save me. He will be the knight in shining armor for me. I know he has it in him. He just hasn’t had the right trigger yet. Me going missing, I know I’ll be that trigger.
And then there’s Dad. My heart skips a beat. He will tear this world apart to find me. No stone will be left unturned. He won’t settle for not finding me.
Oh, Dad, I know he’s probably scared out of his mind and the last thing I ever did was express my anger towards him. He’s the last person who deserves it. I pull my legs forward to curl up and that’s when I become aware of the strap around my foot tied to a block. Memories I’d rather suppress play in my mind.
“Okay, sweetheart, nice to meet you,” the man who just entered the closet Daddy put me in says. “My name is Dave. We have help coming. Do you know where your mom or dad is?”
I open my mouth to tell them Mommy’s dead and I don’t know where Daddy is but I think I'm too tired to talk ‘cause the words don’t come out.
“We’re gonna get you out of here,” he says. “Richard, is the ambulance on the way?”
The man steps back and just a second later, the biggest and strongest man I have ever seen is standing in the same place. When he sees me, he looks angry.
“Sorry,” my voice cracks.
“You don’t have to talk, sweetheart. I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? Don’t be scared,” he says as he takes a step toward me. I squeeze my eyes shut tight. I feel him duck down in front of me. I want to lift my hands to block my face but they won’t move. They are like heavy lumps.
“I'm gonna untie your foot,” he says.
My foot?
Oh yeah, Daddy tied it to a heavy block so I didn’t make a lot of noise and try to get out. I forgot. The big man’s hands slide under me and he starts to lift me up. I feel so small ‘cause he’s so big.
That was the first time I met my dad. That was the first time I ever felt safe.
… And here I am again.
All I want is D
ad’s deep voice assuring me everything's okay as Ajax wraps his strong arms around me and Kiki talks or cries my ear off.
I’d suck up my issues with vulnerability and thank them for accepting me as I am.
Tears are streaming down my face by the time the overhead door opens, letting moonlight into my small space. My heart slams against my rib cage.
“Hello, Marie.”
“I go by Rain now,” I say quietly.
His eyes sharpen in the moonlight. “I’ll forgive that, Marie, because it’s been a while since you followed the rules. You were taken from me,” he snaps. “But we’ll remedy that. I want my good girl back.”
I'm gonna be sick.
“Please,” I whimper. “Don’t d-do this. You got away. You got away with it. Don’t risk this.”
He smiles a cruel smile and steps close to me, brushing my cheek with the back of his hand. Bile rises in my throat.
“You were always such a good little girl.” He fists my long hair and pulls back, hard. It feels like he’s ripping it out of its roots. Which, little does he know, he trained me to relax under that sensation. “But you’re not doing that now, are you, Marie? You want to run away from your daddy.”
His fist collides with the side of my cheek, sending me back into the rotting wall beside me. I've been unaccustomed to pain so it almost blinds me. It's so intense. I place both hands on the wall to steady myself and breathe, because I know more is coming.
Sure enough, a kick comes. Then another. Then another, first to the side of my face, which is what sends me to the ground. I'm trying so hard to hang on to my sanity but with every burst of pain, I feel it slipping away. I'm still present when his hand is tender on my cheek.
“Are you ready to be Daddy’s good girl?”
… I feel myself slip away.
22
Ajax
I hang up the phone and stare at the wall in front of me, breathing heavily. He has her. I know he has her. Richard knows he has her, he’s just in denial.
