I didn’t feel different. The burning inside intensified with every breath.
“I haven’t healed anyone with my blood in a while. It’s probably going to feel like your body is on fire.”
“No shit.” I clenched my teeth, trying not to cry out as the pain of a thousand suns ravaged my body.
Chapter Thirty- Three
Hazel
Well, I guess we could add being kidnapped to my life resume now. Apparently having been homeless and sexually assaulted wasn’t enough.
I groggily woke up in a foreign yet luxurious room. Half of me expected to have been placed in a prison cell with rats running around and shackles hanging from the walls. The bed had satin sheets and a down comforter on top. There was a TV mounted on the wall, and a light-blue loveseat to match the blue-and-gold theme of the room. The vibe was like one of the luxury hotels I stayed in while touring.
My head ached as I sat up and assessed myself. No wounds. I wore the same sweatpants combined with Maddox’s shirt that I fell asleep on the couch with.
“Ms. Kennedy.” A knock on the door had me reaching for my powers, ready for an attack. A woman in old-fashioned black-and-white maid’s attire walked in and looked at me sweetly.
“My lady wishes for you to join her for dinner at five thirty. There are clothes in the closet that should be to your liking. If you need anything, my name is Bridget.” She curtsied and left the room. I didn’t hear the door lock and hopped out of bed with a shaky balance to see if my suspicions were true.
I grasped the handle and it turned with ease. I peeked through the slight opening to find an empty hallway. I debated whether I should make a run for it now or later. While I didn’t see anyone, I had to assume there were eyes on me at all times. Otherwise she went through all the work of capturing me for nothing.
I needed time. I needed to gather my wits to stay sharp, so I returned to the room and closed the door behind me. Instantly, I searched through all the drawers, the large walk-in closet stuffed with clothes, and under the bed. Nothing stood out to me in the form of a microphone or video camera. I looked to the window, half expecting bars but found none. I opened it easily to peek outside. My room was on the third floor, and there were men scattered about the gardens outside looking like secret service men. Curiously, I focused on the plants beneath me, willing them to move toward me and hopefully then I could escape. But they simply swayed in the breeze like I hadn’t told them to grow.
Shoot.
I was willing to bet my David Bowie signed guitar that the Collector used her power on me so I couldn’t use mine.
“OK Hazel, you’ve been kidnapped. Thankfully you’re not in a prison cell. Got that going for you.” I sorted out my options.
“You can’t use your powers, but you are not powerless. You can kick ass, and you are smart as fuck.” Feeling a bit better about my situation, I walked to the bathroom to take a shower. If I was going to get out of here, I needed to use what I had and right now I had running hot water.
After wrapping my hair above my head, I cleaned the feeling of being kidnapped off my skin, then dressed in a black dress with slits on both sides of my thighs. At least I’d look more like an evil queen than a hippie when facing the Collector.
Now, I would wait.
A knock on the door broke me from my meditative state. I didn’t want to go down the rabbit hole of depressing thoughts, including thinking about Maddox.
“Ms. Kennedy, dinner is ready.” The maid greeted me and gestured for me to follow her.
We walked down the hall, and I soaked in every detail. Luxury radiated from every decoration but scattered amongst the beauty were the surveillance cameras, weaved within the beautiful prison. The maid walked me down a set of grand stairs, past an elegant living room, to a dining room large enough for twenty people.
“Here we are, Ms. Kennedy. Please have a seat.” She held out a chair for me next to the head of the table, which was empty like all the other seats. Clicking of heels announced the Collector’s arrival. She was impeccably dressed in a green strapless dress that brought out the stunning elven-like features of her flawless face. A snake in beautiful skin.
“Welcome!” The maid pulled the seat out for her and pushed it closer to the table.
What century did I land in?
“I know the situation between us is a little tense, but I truly do have your best interest at heart. I can protect you and give you the world. Anything you want is yours as long as you are with me.” She smiled, and the sincerity in her eyes had my lips sealed for fear of what may come out of my mouth. I wanted to shove her little speech up her ass.
“I’m one of your biggest fans, you know, for your talent as a musical artist and for your Hero Society work, too. Very courageous of you, using your gifts for good. A nobody, homeless girl just like me. We turned out to be very powerful women. Not many can claim that accomplishment.” She snapped, and two people dressed in suits, with their heads cast down, rushed to us and poured red wine in the crystal glasses near the white-and-gold place settings.
“We are not alike.” I finally spoke and lifted the iced water glass instead of the wine after the servants poured it. I didn’t like wine.
“I beg to differ, but it will probably take some time for you to see the glorious life we can have together. And, for my first present to you, I got you something special. Took a lot of digging on my part to find out this particular detail about your life. I think you will be very pleased. Janice, please bring him in.”
My heart sped up. The only man I’d want to see right now would be Maddox. Together, we could get out of here. I knew in my heart he would come for me.
“Oh, Hazel, I don’t know how to tell you this.” The madwoman patted my hand, then her red-painted nails scraped gently against my skin. I snatched my hand away with a glare aimed at her. Steps grew louder from the hall where I’d been led through before.
“Maddox is dead. I gave him an option to leave you or come live with us. He left. Said he wouldn’t be caged. I killed him on principle. Him leaving would only hurt you more this time around. You’re mine to protect now, including your heart.” She had the gall to lie to me like that, Maddox wouldn’t leave me. He’d stay and fight for me.
“You lie,” I hissed, and abruptly stood, the chair falling to the ground behind me.
“He’s dead, but don’t worry. I have just the thing to cheer you up.” She pointed toward the doorway where Janice entered with a tall man.
Wait… Not just any man… My old foster brother Jarrod.
Chapter Thirty- Four
Hazel
“Jarrod?” I stood frozen at the table, my gaze darting around as if the answers to why he was here blinked in neon lights.
“Like you, I, too, had a foster sibling that wanted more and took it.” Leaving the wine on the table, she floated to stand on her heels, then swayed to a confused and sweating Jarrod. He looked nearly the same as the last time I saw him, maybe just the hint of a receding hairline and deeper lines around his eyes. His eyes pleaded with me for help, which confused me further.
“My foster brother thought I had beautiful hair and lush, creamy skin. I was a meek girl when I was younger. Didn’t get in trouble much. The nerdy type, if you will. Our parents were out on a date, and he was supposed to watch me. Well, I bet you can imagine how the night went.”
Her smile became sinister. I focused on Jarrod and fear wrapped around me. She slowly walked over to him, her painted fingernails dragging up and down his body. She mimicked a hungry predator surveying its prey.
“You tried to take what didn’t belong to you, didn’t you Jarrod?” she purred and traced the features of his face. His face strained as he tried to inch away from her touch but couldn’t. Her powers controlled his movements.
“Only the one time. After that I never touched a woman without consent. I swear. That was a long time ago. I’m so sorry, Hazel.” Tears sprouted from his eyes, and genuine fear coated the air between us.
“I forgave him a long time ago.” I walked forward. I didn’t know what this woman’s plans were, but I knew enough about her to assume the worst.
“Forgiveness. Ha! He wronged you, he tried to rape you, and he would have let his buddies have a taste, too. Years of therapy can only do so much. The only thing that will make the bad memories go away is justice. Justice for all the girls like you and me, Hazel. This is for them, for us.” She whispered in his ear and his eyes widened.
“No, please.” He trembled and looked down. I followed his gaze and saw the Collector held a shiny blade in her hand.
“Don’t hurt him,” I warned as I carefully inched closer to them.
“I won’t hurt him. Jarrod is having remorse for the vile act he committed. Isn’t that right, Jarrod?” She handed him the blade and his grasp tightened around the hilt. I thought his knuckles might burst.
Jarrod shook his head, but then whispered a “Yes,” like he’d been instructed. His arms shook as he raised the blade, and the Collector’s grin grew bigger the closer he came to his doom.
“Please, don’t do this. You may not believe in forgiveness but forgiveness isn’t about the person who wronged you. It’s about letting go of the poison inside yourself before it consumes you. They may have cut you deep, but by holding onto the pain, you have never let it heal. He doesn’t deserve to die. I punished him enough, and I believe he never touched another without consent.” When I reached two feet between us, the Collector raised her hand and told him to freeze. She watched me, her eyes flaring with understanding, she knew the poisonous feeling of holding on to the hurt. She recognized my words and what they meant in our situations. Maybe I’d reached her, and there was hope she’d spare him. Then she shrugged, and my hope burned to ash.
“I think we’ll take his punishment in blood. Go ahead, Jarrod.”
I reached out, trying to stop him, but the blade came down into his gut too fast. His pain-filled groan echoed around the pristine dining room, and his blood dripped onto the marble floors as he twisted the knife around his torso. I rushed to catch his body as he collapsed to the ground, the weight of his limp body taking me down with him. He pulled the blade out from his gut and hot blood spurted out of the deep wound. It seeped into his clothes and mine, and I feared I’d never get the stain of his blood out of my skin.
“Jarrod, look at me,” I pleaded, tears falling down my cheeks while he bled to death in my arms. I knew I couldn’t take away his pain or stop the bleeding even if the Collector would let me. His trembled head turned ever so slightly to give me his dying focus. I did the only thing I could think of. I sang for him softly. I prayed it gave him a moment of peace before he parted. I had nothing else but the voice I’d been gifted with. The words coming out of my mouth belonged to “The Parting Glass.”
“Fill to me the parting glass.” I fought to keep my voice level as grief wrecked me. His lips tipped up for the barest of seconds before his body shook one last time. His head flopped to the side, and his dead eyes stared into mine, a face that I will forever live out my days and never forget.
“So dramatic.” The unfazed devil woman strutted back to her seat like she hadn’t just made a man kill himself.
“You killed him,” I whispered, unsure what I should do. I wanted to rage, fight, and weep for hours. I did not know Jarrod as a man, and he could have lied about only being with consensual women. But the day I became OK with cold-blood murdering would be the day hell stole my soul. I was not the judge, jury, and executioner. Our system didn’t always handle people who committed vile acts as they should have, but that’s why I advocated for change. I wasn’t a vigilante who basked in the blood of the criminals like the Collector did.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to Jarrod as I set him down gently on the bloody marble.
Without another thought, I marched over to the Collector, who was getting more wine poured into her cup. She missed her chance to stop me as my fist collided with her face with the heaviest punch I could muster.
She flew back, blood spurting from her nose, and I grinned at the sight. Not wanting her to get a chance to use her power on me, I jumped onto her fallen form and threw one balled-up fist after another.
“I’ll never submit to a murderer like you. We are nothing alike.” I hoped like hell I knocked her ass out. Her leg came up and I lost my balance, giving her the chance to speak.
“Freeze!” Her voice wrapped around me like a vice and I became still.
“I always liked your fire, Hazel, but like all wild animals, they can be brought to heel.” She wiped the blood off her smug lips, and I shook with rage.
“Now, you will eat dinner, then you will sing and dance for me.” She sat up, then righted herself and her chair. Without my permission, I rose to my feet and sat at the table. The servants appeared seconds later with a plate of hot food. Vegan for me, and as starving as I was, I didn’t want to eat it. But her power squeezed me from the inside and I grasped onto the fork to stab a cooked carrot.
“Much better.”
I’d never wanted to murder someone in my whole life, but this woman flirted with my moral code.
Chapter Thirty- Five
Maddox
“Have you found her yet?” I asked AJ on the phone. I’d been a miserable ass since the Collector had taken Hazel. Fury drove my every step. The Collector Bitch needed to pay. It had been four days since Hazel had been kidnapped, and the Hero Society’s searches hadn’t found her. Phillip and Dorian had surprisingly made themselves scarce, which led me to believe they knew where she was but couldn’t tell anyone about it or something wrong would happen. I get it, but it still pissed me off.
I did the only thing I could. I hunted every last scum in Seahill until someone squealed about the Collector’s whereabouts.
“No, but I’m chasing a lead. The body of Hazel’s old foster brother was dumped into Seahill bay. Time of death was four days ago, and he’d only been in the water for a few hours. Given the big rainstorm we got recently, I’m betting he was buried near the water and the storm washed him out.”
“Which brother?” A bite of foreshadowing sank into my chest. The Collector wouldn’t be so cruel, but then I remembered her villainous smile.
“Jarrod. He was older than her. Looks like a stab wound to the gut, and bled out according to the coroner.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“It’s the Collector’s handiwork.” I knew it. That bitch did something to him, probably in Hazel’s name. Pyscho bitch. I’d looked into him off and on over the years. He had turned his life around, gotten married, and then divorced when his wife cheated on him. He worked in the IT field, and surprisingly hadn’t turned into a fuck-up like I imagined he would have. No one wanted him dead, not even Hazel.
My poor Hazel. I don’t know what happened, but I knew she was hurting. “I’ve got to find her.” I trembled, fear dousing my mind with every tick of the clock. Who knows what the bitch has made Hazel do, what she told her. Fuck, the Collector thinks I’m dead and has most likely used that against Hazel. If the psycho bitch made her do something vile . . . I swallowed back the burning in my throat.
No. I’d help her through it all. I didn’t care what she did. If she fucked other people or if she killed someone. I’d be there to help her and remind her who she really was. My goddess. I wasn’t going anywhere, especially when she needed me the most.
“We’ll find her, man. I’m close. I can feel it. My sister is helping, too. We’re all hands on deck.” AJ’s gut feelings helped but only slightly.
I needed to do something. I hated feeling this helpless. I drove around aimlessly in my truck. Thirty minutes later, I pulled up to Hazel’s home in the woods. The scenery dimmed without her. It was springtime, where everything should be blossoming and green, yet the plants looked sad.
Not wanting her to lose anything else in her life, I walked around the side of the house and grabbed the hose. If all I could do right now was keep her plants alive so she’d
have her beautiful gardens intact when she returned, then so be it.
I tended to her gardens as best as I could with my black thumb. Once I finished my plant job, I braved walking inside the house. I hadn’t wanted to go inside and smell her scents. Memories surfaced of our time together. The emotions tied to the house only enraged me more, and my powers were teetering on edge lately. I might have been saving the brunt of my gifts for when I found the Collector, but I needed to release the power a little.
The house looked the same as it did the last time I had been in her living room. The bright colors made the house full of life. Only I could feel the heart of her home was gone. Getting to work, I grabbed her watering can by the window in the kitchen and took care of her inside plants. In the grand scheme, I knew she wouldn’t care if her plants withered while she was being held hostage. I just couldn’t handle anything else making her sad. I wanted her laughs, her smiles, and her spirit.
Once I finished taking care of her babies, I sat on the couch, and touched the blanket she’d been snuggling the last time I saw her. I brought the soft material to my nose and inhaled her lingering scent. Fuck, I missed her.
Something fell from the blanket, hit my leg, and then landed beside my boot. I looked at the small colored item, then picked it up.
Matches?
“Howlers Ink Tattoo and Piercings.” I read the words under the tribal wolf drawing on the back. As much as I’d love to see Hazel with ink on her beautiful skin, she wanted to remain tattoo free. This set of matches didn’t belong to her. I grasped the matches tightly in my hands and launched for the door. Someone at that shop had answers. They’d been here when she’d been taken.
I hopped into my truck and hit the gas.
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