Enlightened

by Samantha Britt

  “I’ve got her,” he called into the parking lot once he secured his hold. Darcie tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but his arm locked against her. She couldn’t go anywhere.

  Two men appeared, and the trio formed a wall around her. She couldn’t see around their large bodies.

  “Let’s go,” the thinnest man said, glancing around them. “Before someone sees us.”

  Bad Breath jerked Darcie backward. The other men started to retreat back into the sea of cars with Darcie and her captor trailing behind.

  Darcie knew her chances to remain unharmed were not good. She’d seen enough crime shows to know the odds would not be in her favor if the men successfully kidnapped her. Refusing to go quietly, she opened her mouth and bit the dirty hand.

  The man howled, loosening his grip on both her body and mouth. Darcie picked up her leg and kicked backwards, making contact with a shin. Her captor bent over and hissed in pain.

  “You bit–” Darcie cut off his insult when she threw her head back. She heard a crunch as her skull sank into the man’s face. The motion left her dizzy, but not enough to miss the opportunity his distraction gave her. She spun out of his arms and ran back to the club entrance.

  “Help! Marie!” she cried into the air. “Someone help me!” Darcie prayed her friend didn’t return to the parking lot alone. The two girls wouldn’t stand a chance against these men. Maybe the bouncer would hear her?

  The sound of shuffling behind her revealed the men were in pursuit. She willed her legs to move faster.

  The door was close. She could hear music emanating from the dance club. She felt a moment of relief before it was promptly snatched away.

  Thick, calloused hands grabbed her arm and pulled her down to the ground. She let out a piercing scream as her tender flesh pressed against the sharp pavement.

  “Help!” she yelled one last time. The strong hand pushed her head into the ground, silencing her cries. She moved her body, trying to find some way out of her vulnerable position. Each movement sent more sharp rocks into her skin, worsening the pain.

  “Shut up,” the weight on top of her commanded. He positioned his knee on her lower spine and applied pressure. The pain was excruciating.

  “You hurt my friend,” the vengeful voice muttered above her. “I think he might want to return the favor.”

  Darcie heard the other men walk up, both congratulating her captor.

  “That was a close one. She almost gave you the slip, Sid.”

  “Like hell she did.”

  Darcie didn’t see the kick coming. Her left ribs screamed from the impact. She choked on her breath. She didn’t understand what was happening.

  What could the men want? Why were they hurting her?

  The attacker holding her down lifted his weight and forced her to roll on her back. Her head pounded, and her vision blurred as she looked up at the three figures above her.

  One man whistled. “You sure did a number on her face, Ace.”

  “No lasting damage,” the man, apparently Ace, replied. “Just marks from the ground.”

  “Her ribs, though,” Darcie swore she saw him smile as he continued, “those are probably broken.”

  She blinked away painful tears, willing her vision to clear so she could take in the men’s features. If she got out of the situation, she would need to remember what they looked like for the police report.

  “We need to leave. We’re late.” All three men nodded and one bent down and yanked Darcie up by her arm. Her legs would not have held her up if she tried.

  She closed her eyes, and her body and mind began to shut down from the trauma as she was flung over someone’s shoulder.

  Moments later, she vaguely heard one of the men release a cry of surprise.

  Darcie was sure she imagined it. Her head hung limp, facing a man’s back. The smoke on his shirt filled her nostrils.

  There was another sound of surprise followed by a short scream before it was promptly cut off.

  Weakly, Darcie raised her head, trying to figure out what was happening around her.

  “What the hell?” her captor questioned, turning them around as he scanned the area. “Sid? Joe? Where the hell are you guys?” Darcie thought she detected fear in his voice.

  No one answered.

  The man started moving backwards. His head kept moving as he scanned his surroundings. Darcie felt him reach into the back of his jeans and watched as he pulled out a handgun.

  Feeling weak, Darcie could no longer hold up her head. It fell against the man’s back. She didn’t know how long he walked with her over his shoulder, but the groggy teenager was jostled awake when the man finally decided to put her down. She felt the stab of unkempt grass and weeds against her skin.

  The guy leaned over her and hit her cheeks with his palm. “Hey. Wake up. No sleeping.”

  Her eyes fluttered, but she could not will them open. Harshly, he grabbed her chin. His next slap was harder. “I said, wake up!”

  Anger fueled her. Darcie clenched her teeth and opened her eyes. She glared at the horrible man, wishing she had the strength the hit him back, but her arms laid limply by her sides.

  “There you go, that’s bett–”

  He did not finish his sentence.

  Darcie’s cloudy vision watched as the man above her was ripped away. Her eyes followed the shape of his body as it flew up through the air until it disappeared from her poor sight.

  A face popped into view, startling her.

  “Darcie,” a familiar voice called her name, but she couldn’t place it. Her head was too cloudy.

  Her ears started to ring.

  “Darcie, can you hear me?”

  She wanted to reply, but her body refused to comply. Shadows formed around the edges of her vision and crept towards the distorted face in front of her.

  Darcie heard the worry in the voice as darkness finally won, and she lost her battle for consciousness.

  5

  The morning sun shined through her bedroom windows and roused Darcie from sleep. She drew the covers above her head to block out the unwanted light.

  Waking up from a good sleep was the worst part of every day–in her opinion.

  She turned to burrow her head into the pillow and was hit with an unfamiliar aroma. She scrunched her nose against the smell.

  Did Dad buy new detergent?

  Suddenly, memories of the attack played vividly in her mind. She snapped herself awake and sat up. She glanced around, frantically trying to figure out where she was. Did she manage to get away from the assailants?

  At first, nothing seemed particularly threatening. Darcie rubbed her eyes and continued examining her surroundings.

  The large room was full of heavy oak furniture, and it was elegantly decorated. The bed she woke up in had four spiral posts twisting towards the ceiling and a comforter accented with pale, purple lace.

  She scanned the room and noticed the fragile material covered the open curtains as well as accent pillows positioned around the room. She could imagine an older woman decorating the space. It definitely did not seem like the type of room kidnappers would choose for their victim.

  Realizing she might not be in imminent danger, but still not knowing what was going on, Darcie quietly slipped out of the bed to investigate outside of the room. She shivered as her feet touched the cool wooden floor. She wrapped her arms around herself, and smooth fabric met her fingers.

  Darcie glanced down and noticed she was in a satin night dress. The material was light, barely weighing anything as it trailed down to mid-thigh. It was also thin.

  She grabbed a quilt from the end of the bed and covered her shoulders both for modesty and warmth. She refused to acknowledge someone must have changed her into the delicate clothing; she had enough to think about.

  Darcie tiptoed towards the widest door, assuming it would be the exit. Carefully, she turned the bronze knob and pulled inward. Leaning forward, she peeked out into a hallway.

  Aside from f
ancier décor, it was completely empty.

  Inching her way out, she made sure to close the door behind her. She looked down the hallway in both directions to determine which way to go.

  Darcie was seconds away from choosing via eeny, meeny, miny, moe when voices drifted towards her. She ducked behind a tall plant and waited for someone to walk by.

  The voices did not advance. After a few moments, she stepped out from her sorry hiding spot and quietly moved towards the source of the sound. She stopped just outside of another wide oak door. It stood slightly ajar, allowing Darcie a small look into the space.

  The voices she heard continued to trail out. They were elevated which was probably the only reason she heard them in the first place. The small opening showed her another elegantly decorated room and the view of someone’s pant leg where they sat in front of a coffee table.

  “How could you be so foolish?” someone asked. “Why wouldn’t you simply admit she is The One?”

  “Because she is not,” another voice responded. “It is not my fault the girl was injured.”

  “It most certainly is your fault,” the original voice bellowed. “If you would have acknowledged the truth, she would have left with us and been protected. Instead, she was attacked by our enemies, recuperating in our house after a lengthy treatment from the Healers.”

  Darcie could not deny the high possibility she was the girl they were discussing, but she didn’t understand half of what they were talking about.

  Healers? They had to mean doctors.

  “You have no evidence any enemy of ours initiated this attack. The men were human. Her coming under attack the day you met her could have simply been a coincidence.”

  Did he just say human?

  Darcie had to steady herself against the doorframe. She took deep breaths, willing herself to wake up from what must be a vivid dream. It only took her a few seconds to realize the voices stopped.

  She gasped when the door in front of her swung open. She recognized the man holding the door.

  “Darcie,” Thane wore a concerned expression. “You should not be out of bed. Come on, let us get you in a chair. He reached out, but she took an instinctive step away.

  Thane lowered his hand. “Darcie, you underwent a lengthy and involved healing. Your body needs to rest.”

  “Where am I?” she asked, ignoring his statements. “What is going on?” She stared at him, refusing to lessen the intensity until he answered her questions. He opened his mouth but quickly closed it, unsure of what to say.

  “You are at our home,” he finally replied. He held out his hand and gestured to their surroundings.

  Our home?

  Darcie glanced behind the man and recognized the person Thane must have been speaking with.

  “Des?”

  He stood near the room’s stone fireplace and looked irritated. Even upset, he was still the most attractive man Darcie had ever seen. She shook her head to focus and tried to remember what she knew about the men.

  They were brothers. They were visiting Brunswick and were not from the U.S. That’s about all Darcie could recall, but she believed there wasn’t much more she would know.

  Why would she be in the home of practical strangers?

  “Yes, I am Des,” he responded stiffly. Darcie couldn’t help but realize it was the first time he directly spoke to her.

  She looked back at Thane; he was more approachable. “Why am I at your house?”

  “You were attacked in the parking lot. Des and I found you.”

  The teenager sucked in a breath and closed her eyes against the onslaught of memories. She could almost feel her attackers’ calloused hands on her arms. She smelled the tobacco and stale alcohol as if the man breathed right into her face. Her hands flew to her ribs, remembering the painful kicks delivered to the fragile region.

  “You are alright.” Thane reassured after noticing her cower. “You are healed.”

  Darcie continued to hold her torso–the memory almost as painful as any bruise. “How long have I been here?”

  “Since last night.”

  “That’s impossible.” Darcie wasn’t a doctor, but she knew it would take longer than one evening for her body to mend from the damage it sustained. Her breathing accelerated as her panic began to rise.

  “Stop, Thane.” Des stepped forward. “This is too much.”

  Loud footsteps sounded against the walls behind Darcie. She stepped closer to Thane and whirled around to face whoever approached.

  “Thane? Des?” A different masculine voice called out. “You in here? I just spoke with Bella. She said we had a guest.”

  The man came into view with an excited smile covering his face. He was just as large as the two men behind Darcie, and just as attractive.

  The newcomer froze where he stood; his eyes locked on to Darcie. Feeling exposed, she tightened her hold on the quilt.

  “Lome,” Thane greeted. “This is Darcie. Darcie, this is my second brother, Lome.”

  She did not speak, but she was proud of herself for managing a small nod of acknowledgement.

  Lome continued to stare at her. He whistled low. “I cannot believe it.”

  “Do not,” Des said in response to Lome’s unspoken thought. His voice practically a growl. “She is not her.”

  One of Lome’s brows raised. “You could have fooled me.”

  Darcie didn’t know what to make of the stranger’s stare. His expression conveyed recognition, but she was positive they never met before.

  “Will one of you please tell me what is going on?” She looked between the three men, choosing to focus most of her pleading gaze on Thane and Lome. They seemed more amenable to explaining themselves.

  Thane gestured towards Des. There was a challenge in the movement. “Would you like to enlighten Darcie?”

  Cautiously, her eyes moved to Des. She might not know what was going on, but she could tell the man was not fond of her presence.

  Apparently, she was in the middle of some kind of brotherly dispute.

  Des glared at his brother. “No. I do not believe we should explain anything. We should just release her to her own home.”

  Darcie’s head snapped back to Thane. “Yes.” The distant man’s suggestion was a beacon of hope. “I would like to go home.”

  “We can accommodate that. Can we not, brothers?”

  She managed a quick glance back at Des. He looked triumphant with his straightened spine and smug grin.

  “Do not be hasty,” Lome told Des. “How can you be sure she is not her?”

  “Do you think I would not know?” The questioned man grew angry. “I, of all people, would recognize her.”

  Darcie watched Thane cross his arms. He shook his head in disapproval. “You have not been searching. Perhaps that means she is unrecognizable to you?”

  “I- I feel a connection to her,” Thane added quietly as an afterthought.

  Lome nodded. “Same here.”

  “You are both being unreasonable. You want her to be her, so you have convinced yourself she is her.” Des’ voice sounded wild with frustration.

  “Of course we want her to be The One,” Thane stated. “You seem to forget this affects us all.”

  “That does not change the fact she is not her.”

  Watching the conversation bounce back and forth, trying to decipher what the relative strangers could possibly mean when they discussed her being “the one”, caused a massive migraine to develop behind Darcie’s eyes. She put her head in her hands, pressing her fingers against the pain. She wanted to wake up from the nightmare.

  “Darcie?” Thane noticed her discomfort and stopped arguing with his siblings. “What is wrong?”

  What’s wrong?

  Darcie couldn’t help it; she gave a humorless laugh.

  “What’s wrong?” she repeated. “Let’s see… I was attacked. Beaten. I thought I was going to die in the back of some creep’s van.”

  She counted off a finger for each statemen
t, her voice growing more and more hysterical as she continued, “Then, I wake up in a strange house. I find you guys. But instead of answers, I am being talked about as if I am not even here. You keep asking if I am ‘her’, but how about someone freaking tell me something about ‘her’, and I’ll tell you if that is who I am!”

  Darcie shouted the last words, finally reaching her breaking point. Her rant left her panting as she looked from man to man. Not one of them seemed sure how to respond.

  “I’m sorry,” Thane apologized as he ran a hand through his dark hair. “We should have been more considerate of your state. We will explain everything.”

  “Like hell we will,” Des spoke up, pure fury radiating off his skin.

  It was frightening.

  “I have told you both everything you need to know,” he said to his brothers. He did not even spare Darcie a glance. “She is not her. Does she look like her? Yes. But telling her about us will be a mistake. We should return her to her life as if none of this ever happened.”

  “What if you are wrong?” Lome questioned, unafraid of his brother’s wrath. “We need to be united. We can reach our full potential. We will be revered as the most powerful–”

  “Enough.” Des walked towards Darcie with a purpose, ignoring his brother’s words.

  Unsure about the irritated man’s intentions, she stepped back until her back hit the wall. She was surprised to see a flash of remorse cross Des’ eyes.

  Despite what she saw, he did not stop his approach until there were only inches between their two bodies.

  “Des,” Thane’s voice appealed to his brother, but he remained where he stood. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes.” Des’ hand slowly reached out. Darcie watched it in terror until it landed just above her ear.

  Her eyes searched his for an explanation, but he did not offer one. Unable to continue looking, she squeezed her eyes shut.

  “What if you are wrong?” She heard Lome ask.

  Des did not respond.

  Warmth emanated from the hand that touched her. Surprised by the feeling, she opened her eyes and looked at Des. He held her stare and a thousand thoughts seemed to pass behind his green eyes. She wanted to ask him so many things, but found herself unable to speak.