by Callie Rae
“No. I’m handling this my way, and I will continue to do so, unless you tell me otherwise. I’m going to find her. And him. And when I do . . .” I snarl as I speak the last part and grit my teeth. White-hot anger fills me, knowing he took her when I was supposed to be protecting her. When I knew better than to leave her alone. This is my fault. “I shouldn’t have left her alone. This is my fault. I’m going to fix this.”
She looks at me. She scans my eyes, my face, and my body. Then she nods. “What Marcus does is no one’s fault. No one can be held responsible for the actions of a very sick young man.”
Darla huffs out a sad chuckle. “You and Fallon are a lot alike. Always blaming yourselves when your family hurts.” She looks to the window, her eyes glistening over with unshed tears. I can’t imagine what she is feeling right now. I see the wheels rolling in her brain. She’s processing everything I’ve said to her, feeling what she needs to feel.
I see the moment her posture changes. It’s slight, but it’s there. She turns back to me with war written on her face. This is where Fallon gets her fight from. I can only hope she’s fighting right now. I need her to fight.
She grits out one single word between clenched teeth. “Don’t.”
“Don’t?” I ask her in confusion. “Don’t what? Search for her?”
“Don’t go to the police. They’ve failed her so many times. They didn’t protect her when she lost Luna or when she had to leave her home because that horrible man haunted her. I tried, Jesse. I tried so hard to protect her. I begged the police to intervene. They wouldn’t do anything, and they aren’t helping now.” The tears pool in the corners of her eyes and dare to spill over as she shakes her head. “No, you have to find her. You have to promise me you’ll find her. I’ll do everything I can to help you, but you have my support. Please just find my baby.”
“I-I . . .” The stutter comes out of my mouth before I can fully process what she’s telling me. I was certain that I would be leaving here and going to the police station. As I stare into her face, I collect myself. I steel my resolve to match hers before vowing to her, “I will.”
“Even if it means sacrificing everything? I need to know that you’re willing to do whatever it takes,” she says with determination gleaming from her eyes. “That’s my baby girl, and I’ve failed to protect her as her mother so many times. I need to know I can trust you to be there for her.”
“I will find her, and I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe,” I promise. My voice is unwavering as I look into her eyes, reinforcing the message I’ve just delivered. Nothing will stop me. I will find her.
And I will destroy him.
“Promise me, Jesse. Promise me you’ll find her,” she pleads as tears streak down her face. She finally let them flow. “You’ll find my baby. My sweet baby girl.”
“I promise,” I say, my gut wrenching open. I never make promises, but this is one promise that I can make without hesitation. Because I’d already promised myself the same.
She stares at me. “Good. Now sit down and tell me what you know so far. What is your plan? Tell me everything.”
I nod and move back to the chair at side of her bed to take a seat again. She holds out her hand to me, and I grip it for dear life. I tell her everything I know, and I don’t hold back. She has to know what her daughter means to me. And If she doesn’t, I’ll make sure to show her. I’ll make sure to bring her back.
“I need to pee,” I tell Marcus, who is sitting in a chair he brought down here so he could read while I stare at either him or the wall. I prefer the wall; it doesn’t bring the bile up.
“You have three minutes,” he says as he turns the page of his book. He doesn’t even give me the courtesy of speaking to my face.
“I’m taking five,” I tell him as I stand and walk past him on my way to the bathroom.
Fuck him and his rules.
His foot suddenly appears in my way, and I stumble over it until my face slides along the concrete of the dirty basement floor. The grit digs into my cheek.
That’s going to be pretty, I’m sure.
Before I can right myself, Marcus straddles my waist and uses his weight to hold me down. His hand fists into the hair on the back of my head, yanking until my head is bent back as far as it can go. My scalp stings as I feel a few hairs being pulled out. I jerk my head to the side and push up with my hands, but his grip is solid and I can’t budge. I whimper at the burning sensation slicing through my scalp now. Pulling against him wasn’t the best idea, and now my tears are pooling in my eyes against my wishes as the sting becomes overwhelming. I focus on the heartbeat steadily pounding in my ears, but the air is becoming thick, making it hard for me to breathe. Or focus. He hadn’t put his hands on me before now. I’ve been waiting for it. Marcus can only hold the rage in for so long, and I’ve pushed and poked and prodded. Provoking him has almost become a game to me, a stab I can feel good about. But right now nothing feels good. In fact, it feels like hell on earth.
His warm breath reaches my ear, and I still completely at his cringe-inducing whisper. “I’ve been patient with you, Fallon, but you will mind me. Or there will be consequences.”
He slams my head into the concrete floor causing the grit to puncture my face even further. The weight of his body lets up and he walks out, leaving me lying on the ground. Stars appear in my vision, and pain pulses down the side of my face. I roll on my back and hold my hand to my face in an attempt to dull the pain. I look up to the ceiling and try to control my breathing and wait for the stars to clear before I try to sit up. I focus on each breath as it flows in and out, but it doesn’t seem to calm me this time. This severity of this situation just became extremely real to me.
I may never escape my demons.
I’m giving up hope that I’ll get out of here. I’m giving up hope that I’ll see Jesse again.
I slowly sit up and use the wall as a prop so I can adjust to being upright. Everything spins at first making it hard to stay upright, but eventually, it goes away. I lean on the wall as I make my way to a bathroom better suited for a prison than a home. There isn’t a door, the toilet is stained yellow, and the water in the sink only comes out cold. The walls aren’t even finished, but there is a small cracked mirror hanging above the sink. I try not to look; I really try. I turn the cold water on trying to ignore my reflection. But I lose the battle against the mirror as I see red glistening in my peripheral vision. I look up to see the damage to my face. My cheek is red and raw-looking and my eye is swelling already. I have a cut on my forehead leaking blood in a slow trickle down to my jaw. There are fragments of rock embedded into my cheek. I take the cold water and rinse what I can. I slowly pull the grit from my face, bit by bit. Finally, I stare at the beaten and bruised young woman staring back at me. The reflection in the mirror isn’t me; it can’t be. I don’t know who she is anymore.
This is why I tried not to look.
The girl before me is as pitiful as any woman could be. Her lifeless eyes are so sunken in that it ages her at least ten years. Her face is void of any emotion. She’s a shell of someone who can’t continue to feel or live. I’ve become a shell. I haven’t really fought since right after waking up down here. I haven’t attempted to free myself. This is what happens when you fall into the same old routines. For me, it seems to be a pattern of being a helpless, dumb girl.
I’ve made a few smart comments here and there, but otherwise, I’ve simply sat in here, day in and day out, listening for the click of the lock. I haven’t bothered to find a way out. I let the fight leave me.
Wait. My eyes widen as it hits me.
The click.
I don’t remember hearing the click after he left.
I peek out of the bathroom and stare at the doorknob to the entrance of the basement like it’s magical. I creep towards the door, fearing that if I go too fast it might backfire on me. As I inch closer, my heart picks up its pace. This could be my moment—the moment I
get to fight back.
Please be unlocked. Please be unlocked . . .
I bring my hand up to the door and grasp the doorknob tightly. My heart is pounding now. My palms are sweating. I close my eyes, take a deep, steadying breath through my nose, and begin turning. When I’m met with no resistance, I let out the biggest breath I’ve ever held. I almost want to cheer. The first tiny bit of hope trickles inside of me, bringing me to tears.
I’ve unnerved him. He slips when he’s upset. He’s losing his control.
I pull the door open and a low creak sounds, bringing me to a halt. My chest pulses as I wait to make sure he didn’t hear me. I listen for signs of movement or anything to tell me if he’s coming. When I’m met with continued silence, I open the door just wide enough so I can slip through the opening. There are stairs beyond the door; creaky stairs that look as old as the rest of this house. It will make it that much more difficult for me. I carefully climb them two steps at a time to avoid any unnecessary noise. As I reach the top, I flatten myself to the wall and peer around the corner of the opening. The door to the stairs is wide open, which allows me to see out into a kitchen area without coming into the light. Beyond the kitchen there’s nothing but a door. But that door has enough natural-looking light peeking out from underneath it that I’m almost positive it leads outside. I glance around the corner once more, making sure the room is clear. Once I start for the door there is no stopping or looking back. I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath, preparing myself for my next move. When I open my eyes again, I count to three in my mind. On three, I run. My eyes are solely focused on reaching that door. And I do. I reach it and grab onto the doorknob. The relief that I’m nearly out threatens to overwhelm me. I’m almost free.
I open the door and allow the warm sun to drape over me. After all this time in the dank basement the bright warmth of the sun’s rays clear some of the fog I’d gained in isolation.
But I’ve made a terrible mistake and paused too long. I hear the shuffle of his shoe before I feel the jerk of his hand in my hair as he grabs me and yanks me back. I can’t stop the yelp that slips through my lips. All the hope I’d gained when I reached the door drains out of me as I grab onto the hand gripping my hair. I try to pull out of its grasp. I turn and kick. I yank, and I know it hurts me more than the pain caused by the man that holds on to me with a vice-like grip. but I can’t give up. I have to fight. I can’t lose myself to him.
“You dumb bitch. You think I’d let you get away that easy?” Marcus growls.
He pulls me towards the stairs as I bite back a whimper. But I keep fighting. I kick at him again. I twist and turn; I’d do anything to get free.
“No. No! Help me! Help me!” I scream as try to pull away again. His hand tightens on my hair even further and the tears fall from my eyes. The hope that anyone might hear me is as bleak as my future. But I can’t stop trying.
“Help me!” I scream through sobs as I finally yank out of his grasp. I leave him standing there with a hand full of hair and make a beeline for the door. This time I don’t pause, but it doesn’t matter. He’s faster than me and is on me before I can run out of the door. The fact that I stare out into a backyard hits me hard. If it was the front there might have been the possibility of someone seeing me and coming to my rescue. But that hope is lost.
“Shut up,” he hisses. He grabs me again, pulling me back to the stairs. I grab onto the frame of the stair entrance and kick at him. The first few kicks never make contact but the last one hits him in the gut. He catches my foot as he falls against the wall and pulls me down with him. I grab for him, a stair, the wall—anything—as I lose my balance. My hands are unable to grasp hold of anything before gravity takes ahold of me and I fall. My body lands hard on the first step, knocking the air out of me. I continue to fall, meeting each step one by one, each one hurting worse that the one before it. My leg slams down and I feel a pull that slithers its way up to my hip and through my body, followed by an intense pain. It blinds me as I continue to my descent down the stairs. I roll one final time but the moment I hear the smack reverberate through my skull my eyes close.
The darkness consumes me, and relief fills me. The darkness has become a safe place.
My bedroom door slams, and I jerk my head up to see a fuming Jade in the doorway. Her breathing is ragged, her cheeks are red, and if I had to guess, she’s ready to burn down whoever is responsible for making her upset. I jump to my feet and cross the room to where she is standing, ready to hurt the person who has pissed off my sister.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Jade’s heavy breathing and silence worries me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my twin so angry before. She’s always the happier one of the two of us, but not today. Whoever wronged her must have been shitty.
“What did that shithead Adam do? Where is he?” My anger grows. I move past her. “He’ll wish he never—”
“Adam? You think this is about Adam?” Jade huffs out incredulously. “Am I twins with an idiot? This is about you, you moron.”
“There’s a rumor going around that you attacked Jordan at the Depot?” she says. She studies my face, her eyes looking deep into mine. “Is it true?
“Yeah, and? That’s normal behavior for me. Why is that surprising to you?” I say.
“It’s surprising because the rumor is it was over Fallon.” Jade waves her hands in the air.
She takes a step towards me and gets in my face. “How could you not tell me you found a lead? How could you keep news about my best friend from me?” Her voice begins to waver, and I can see the tears welling in her eyes.
“I didn’t have time. I had to get to him. He was hiding information about Fallon—”
“You didn’t have time. You didn’t have time to call down the hall to include me? You aren’t thinking about anyone else. Just poor, sad Jesse. The girl he loves is missing and no one else feels the pain.” Her tears finally begin spill over as she hisses, “We were all family. Are all family.”
She growls in frustration before continuing. “Not just you and her, but all of us. You can’t keep me out of this! I’m sure Cason was right behind you the entire time. I miss her too, you know. I want her back too. She’s my best friend, Jess.” She furiously wipes the tears from her face as she continues to glare at me.
The women in this family have a way of pulling my stomach into my throat and humbling me so that I feel no better than a huge pile of dog shit. Jade is no different. Sometimes I think she’s more capable of it than anyone else because she’s my twin. Because she understands me in a way that most don’t. Except for Fallon. I look into my twin’s eyes and can see just how full of hurt they are. She’s hurting, and not just because she misses her best friend, but because I made her feel less important. I’m that shitty person. It seems like a constant thing for me—not being able to take care of the women in my life.
“Shit, Jade. I’m sorry. I know you miss her.” I pull her in and hug her tight. “I promise we are going to find her, together.” She wraps her arms around my waist and settles into my hug. “All three of us.”
And we are going to find her, one way or another. We are going to make this family whole again. We have to. But there are some things Jade is better left out of. I couldn’t handle another person in this family getting hurt because I was incapable of taking care of them.
The doorbell rings, interrupting the moment with my twin. “Who’s that?”
“I don’t know.” She pulls back from me in confusion and asks, “Is Cason here?”
“Nah, he hasn’t come home from last night.”
“Maybe it’s for Dad?” she mumbles with a shrug of her shoulder.
“No, him and mom went to a business lunch and won’t be back until family dinner tonight.” A sinking feeling settles in my stomach. “Jade, stay here.”
The doorbell rings again but this time it’s followed by a pounding on the front door. “Jade, I’m serious. Don’t come do
wn until I say it’s safe.”
I drag Jade into her room and level her with a stare, one that I hope conveys just how serious I am. “Lock the door behind me.” She nods, and I spin on my heels and shut her door with a slam. I practically run downstairs to the front door where whoever is on the other side is getting impatient. The pounding is only getting louder and more frequent.
I try to peek through the window in the front door but the only thing I’m able to tell about our visitor is that they are not very tall. I decide that whoever it could be is someone I could likely overpower if the need arises and open the door. I’m surprised when I see who it is.
Narni is standing on the porch with her fist in the air mid knock. I blink a few times to make sure this isn’t a trick. The last time she graced my doorstep was odd enough, but two times now makes it completely strange.
“It’s about time you answer the damn door,” she says. Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s so out of breath that she’s practically panting. Like she’d been running.
“What the fuck do you want Narni? Cason isn’t here,” I growl as I lean on the door frame.
“Yeah, I fucking know that asshole,” she says as she steps to the side and gestures with her hand toward her left. I’m not sure I believe what I’m seeing. Cason is sitting on the porch, slumped over against the railing. But that’s not what has me in shock. His face and arms are mottled purple and bloody, and if I had to guess, I’d say his torso is probably covered in bruises, too.
“Cason!” The shellshock wears off when Jade yells out. She runs past me, straight for Cason. Her hands are moving so fast over his body, checking every inch of him like a mother would do for her child.
I turn to Narni. “Who the fuck did this?” I slowly step towards her with straight-up murder on my mind for whoever messed with my family. Again.
“How the fuck am I supposed to know? He showed up on my doorstep like this,” she snaps at me. She doesn’t back away like most girls do. I guess that would be too easy for me, and right now, easy isn’t coming, well, easily.
