by Loretta Lost
“I need to get on a plane,” I tell Mr. Bishop softly. “Wherever she is—I need to find her. Do you think this is Benjamin? Where would he have taken her?”
“This is not my expertise, son, but trust you have Agent Lopez and other skilled professionals on the task. The moment they pinpoint a likely location, you will be the first to know, and you can rush over there to begin combing the area.”
“But it is Benjamin?” I ask the Bishops. “You don’t think there are any other possibilities? For example, could it be my grandparents?”
Mr. and Mrs. Bishop share a look, and the fear on the old woman’s face leads me to believe she must have some firsthand knowledge of my grandparents’ cruelty. She looks like she is about to feign innocence for a moment, but I glare at her intently, until she sighs.
“So, you finally told him,” she says. “And here I am serving shrimp fried rice. Excuse me, I will return with the vodka.”
“Vodka would be nice,” I say glumly.
“This isn’t your grandparents, Cole,” says Mr. Bishop gently. “First of all, your grandparents don’t really kidnap very often. They just kill. Second of all—they are your secret benefactors remember? They have loved you from afar for years, and they have tried to help you out in your life. They would not throw that all away by hurting the woman you love. Because you married Scarlett, they consider her family too. Their protection of you would extend to her, if they knew.”
“Oh, really?” I ask bitterly. “Why didn’t it work that way with my parents?”
“Because, my boy. Before your father met and settled down with your mother, he was directly responsible for killing several important members of the Irish Mob. Including one of your mother’s brothers—the son of the drug kingpin. It was revenge. He could have possibly forgiven lesser crimes, and punished them with some smashed kneecaps or a weekly beating. But when his daughter married the man who killed his son? There are some offences too great to look past.”
“Mr. Bishop,” I ask him quietly, “Do my grandparents know I’m still alive?”
“No, Cole. In fact, when news of your death spread through the mob and the mafia, they each blamed the other for placing the hit on you, and it has caused some tensions between them. A mini-war, so to speak.”
It’s so strange to think that there is this whole world I knew nothing about, that had so much influence in my life. And so much of my own life, of my success and my accomplishments, were not solely mine after all.
“All you can do for the moment is to sit and wait,” Mrs. Bishop says as she pours me a generous glass of vodka. “The moment people know what happened to poor Scarlett, you can race over there to be with her. But for now, just focus on keeping your own health and strength up.”
“No,” I say quietly, sipping the vodka and rising to my feet. “There must be something I can do. I can’t just sit around. Maybe if I fly to Benjamin’s home...”
“Benjamin thinks you’re dead,” Mr. Bishop reminds me. “And it needs to stay that way.”
“What about my grandparents?” I ask Mr. Bishop. “Is there any chance they would help me?”
The Bishops exchange a look again.
“Maybe,” Mr. Bishop says softly. “But even getting close enough to ask would put your life at risk. It would be like stepping into the lion’s den. You were never supposed to know about your origins.”
“More importantly,” says Mrs. Bishop, “If you asked for help, you would owe these people a favor. And these are not the kind of people you want to owe favors. When they come to collect... they will always take more than you have to give.”
“Like Rumpelstiltskin,” I mumble. “He will turn straw into gold for the price of your firstborn. Luckily, I don’t have very much to lose in this world, other than Scarlett.”
And I’ve already lost my firstborn, I remind myself inwardly.
“That girl is tough as nails,” Mrs. Bishop says softly. “I wouldn’t worry about her too much, Cole.”
“She’s tough, but she’s also fragile. If you knew her like I do, you’d worry much more.”
Chapter Thirteen
Serena
Snow and I are standing at the foot of the stairs, and looking up. The door is locked shut, and we can’t see what’s happening.
However, we can feel that something serious is happening.
The basement floor shudders, as if we are in the middle of an earthquake. And not just the mild California earthquakes that I’m used to, but a real, honest-to-goodness, middle of the ocean, tsunami-causing Earthquake that scores significantly high on the Richter scale.
We both go crashing to the floor, unable to maintain our balance.
“What is she doing?” Snow asks, sound partially curious and partially jealous. “Kicking Benjamin’s ass is my job!”
“I don’t know. But who is she? Is she someone we can trust?”
“She must be, right?” Snow asks. “She is part of us. She wants the same things. Right?”
“Snow,” I say softly, pushing myself up on my forearms. “If we get out of this alive, we should probably see a therapist.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
Focusing on the light in the cracks around the doorway leading to the upstairs, I frown. I grasp the sides of the staircase and pull myself up, a familiar climb up the vertical slope. The top feels farther away, and by the time I can grasp the doorknob, I am out of breath.
Peering through the cracks, I try to figure out what’s happening above ground, in my body. But all I can see are shadows and all I can hear are distorted voices. I hear them yelling and screaming. I think I hear a child crying.
“God,” I whisper, turning and yanking on the doorknob forcefully. “Please don’t let anything happen to Joy. Please let the person who has control of my body be a good person. Please let her be on my side.”
“On our side,” Snow corrects, as she stands beside me. Smiling at me, she grasps the railing of the staircase and begins to kick the door open. “Mother—fucker!” She curses as the door refuses to budge. “Open sesame, you stupid piece of shit! I hate it when this happens.”
“You try to kick down the door to gain possession when I am behind the wheel?”
“All the time,” Snow says. “But especially when you do stupid shit, like put a gun to your head. Or think about throwing yourself in front of trains and off skyscrapers.”
“I’m sorry, Snow. I really didn’t know about you, before. I didn’t know that my decisions would impact anyone other than myself. I’m sorry I tried to hurt you.”
“Don’t be,” she responds. “Just be sorry you tried to hurt yourself. Anyway, I think I know a way we can listen in and spy on her. I really shouldn’t be telling you this, as it’s a method I use to spy on you sometimes. And I don’t really want you using it to spy on me, because sometimes Cole and I do very dirty things I prefer to keep private and only between me and him.”
“Excuse me?” I say with amazement. “You’re talking about things you do with my man and my body, so I think you’ve waived your right to privacy here!”
“No way,” Snow says smugly. “I think I saved your ass enough times that I’ve earned some credits I can redeem for cool prizes in the amusement park that is your brain.”
“That’s just lovely. Now, stop messing around and show me,” I command her. “Show me the secret way that you spy on me.”
Her face suddenly grows serious, and she stops taunting me and acting superior. “No, Serena. I’ve been locked down here in this basement long enough to know that if someone else took over, there must be a damn good reason. Whatever she’s doing up there—it’s something that you and I were not capable of doing. And she’s necessary.”
Considering this for a moment, I nod slowly. “I just didn’t think there was anything you weren’t capable of doing.”
“Same here.”
“But we’re changing,” I tell her. “Something is changing. I remember you, now. I can even speak to y
ou when I’m awake. We’re both growing stronger, and more connected. So why do we need a third personality?”
Snow is quiet for a second, as a sad smile settles on her face. “I think I’ve seen glimpses of her before. You’re right. The basement is changing. I think you and I were mostly confined to separate rooms, but for some reason, the walls are down. The rooms are blurring together. Our mental organization is rearranging. Maybe this girl was locked away in a deeper, darker part of the basement, and now that the whole architecture of this place is changing—it’s easier for her to get out.”
“Do we want her to get out?” I ask, and my question is answered by another earthquake shaking the basement. I stumble backward and lose my footing. I nearly go tumbling down the stairs, but Snow grabs my arm as she holds onto the railing of the stairs.
She grunts with the effort it takes to pull me back up, and I grip the railing as soon as I can. “Thank you,” I say hoarsely, but a great wind has picked up and is catching our hair and sweeping it into our eyes.
I am not sure where the wind is coming from, but it gusts around us like a tornado. And then I realize: it’s coming from behind the locked door.
Gasping with panic, I suddenly imagine that there is a gaping black hole just behind the door. Like we have been transported to outer space, and that door is all that separates us from a terrible vacuum of nothingness. From the great expanse of darkness.
Death.
Have we died? Has Benjamin killed us?
“Hey,” Snow says with great effort, clamping her hand around my wrist and squeezing. “This isn’t over yet, okay? We’re going to get through this. But if we get separated—if I can’t be there for you, anymore, just look behind the walls. In the ventilation system, the central air. There are secret windows to the outside there.”
“Just like a house,” I murmur.
“Yeah. And Cole taught us a thing or two about houses,” Snow says softly. Then she lets go of my wrist with an apologetic look, as she reaches for the doorknob. “I’m sorry about this, Serena.”
“What are you doing?” I ask, as she turns the doorknob and the wind picks up. The wind grows so strong that I can no longer hold on, and I feel myself getting swept up in a vortex. “Snow! What are you doing?”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, as I am sucked toward the crack in the door. “I am sorry for whatever waits for you on the other side.”
“You can’t!” I tell her, as I hold onto the door frame. My entire body is being vacuumed up into the darkness, and supported only by my fingertips. I feel like I am inches away from a bottomless void, and certain death. There is a great fear in the pit of my stomach, because I’m not ready to go. I want to stay and fight. “Pull me back, Snow. Please! Don’t leave me here like this. Snow!”
“Serena, my love,” she says, with pity on her face. “This is the only way.”
And then she slams the door closed on my fingers.
Chapter Fourteen
Serena
My whole body is burning and freezing at the same time as I fall.
It feels like I am falling through the atmosphere, back down to earth.
I feel myself falling. Falling, falling, falling, into nothingness.
Falling back into myself.
Back into my tired, broken body.
I am so dizzy and disoriented for a moment that I am not sure where I am. I am not sure if I am even alive. I could be lying in a morgue right now. Or in a ditch at the side of the road. I am not sure what is the most likely scenario, where I have been, or what I have done.
I am unable to comfort myself.
I am so cold.
When I finally try to move, I groan in pain, and realize that I am lying facedown on a hardwood floor. There seems to be some sticky blood beneath my cheek. I feel an unmistakable increased amount of soreness in a humiliating area, and I can only imagine why it would be so sore. My wrists are bound together again, as are my ankles. What did I do to make him tie me up again? And where is Joy?
Prying my eyes open, I search for the small girl.
I hear a whimper coming from the closet. Turning toward it, a small shudder runs through my body, remembering the bloody coat hanger I found there.
Swallowing back my fear, I push myself up to my feet. But I can’t really walk with my ankles tied together, and I fall back to the floor. Frowning, I shimmy across the floor in an awkward fashion, moving as effectively as I can with my hands and feet tied. When I reach the closet, I shift onto my knees to open the door. Joy is sitting in a corner and hugging her teddy bear tightly, while she cries softly onto its fur.
“He’s not a nice man,” she says to me in a tiny, terrified voice. “Uncle Benjamin is not a nice man.”
“No, he’s not. Did he touch you?” I ask her. It is hard to see her expression, for her hair is wet and matted against her skin. I reach out with my bound wrists to brush her hair away and examine her little face.
She shakes her head. “He didn’t hurt me. But I can’t bear to watch him hurt you so badly. Why does he hurt you like that? Over and over?”
Exhaling, I shake my head. “I don’t know. But how did he tie me up again? I thought—I thought I was strong enough to fight him.”
Joy points out into the room, wordlessly. I follow her gaze and see the empty syringe lying on the floor.
“Dammit,” I whisper, glancing down at my arm. “Again?”
“He said he gave you a sadative,” Joy explains, and then she pauses. “Does it make you really sad?”
Somehow, she has the ability to make me smile through my pain. I touch her face with the back of my hand, wiping her tears away as best as I can. Joy really is a smart little girl. She is capable of making some clever connections and understanding complicated concepts.
And she figured out quite quickly that Benjamin was bad news. Thank goodness.
“Don’t worry,” I tell her softly. “I’ll get us away from him soon.”
“How?” she asks. “You’re all tied up. With a sadative.”
“I’ll figure out a way,” I tell her. “In the meantime, do you think you could try to untie me?”
“I already tried. I tried a whole bunch,” she says softly, as her tears start again. “It’s really hard.”
“Okay, okay. Don’t worry,” I tell her reassuringly. “I’m going to be okay, no matter what, Joy. Trust me, I’m tough. I’ve been through a lot.”
“I know. You said you were imp... impetrabble.”
Another sad smile touches my lips. “I said that?”
“Yeah. Impetrabble means really strong, right?”
I nod. “The strongest.”
“How come?” she asks.
“Because. It doesn’t matter what he does to my body. He can’t touch my mind.” I stare at the small girl intently for a moment. “Remember that, Joy. It doesn’t matter what happens to you on the outside. What other people say or do to you. All that matters is who you are. That you stay strong, and that you do the right thing. That you’re proud of yourself, and your own actions. And even if you fail, even if you get hurt—you always try your very best.”
Joy nods and hugs her teddy bear tighter. “I wanna be impetrabble, too.”
When the locks on the door to our room begin to turn, I quickly move away from the closet. “Be quiet. Don’t make any noise,” I instruct her, before closing the closet door and trying to shimmy away from it. As I move, I am keenly aware of the pain in my body from what Benjamin did to me when I was unconscious.
But I am mostly focused on getting away from the closet door so I don’t draw his attention to Joy’s hiding place.
“There you are,” Benjamin says as he enters the room. “I am sorry that I had to rudely interrupt our fun earlier. It seems like I ran out of steam! I’m not as young as I used to be, and you’re wearing me out. I am aware that my stamina leaves much to be desired, so I took a pill. That should help things.”
I gaze at him in horror. This pain in my body is fro
m his lack of stamina? And all that blood on the floor...
I feel like he will have the ability to do permanent, irreparable damage to me with the help of his pills. Even if I manage to kill him, I’ll be reminded of him every time I need to use the bathroom. About once per day for the rest of my life. Although, at the moment, with all the drugs he is pumping into me, it doesn’t look like my life will be very long. I remember poor Scarlett, whose identity I stole.
A drug overdose is a terrible thing. I need to think of a way to get free, and fast. I am tired of being abused like this.
“The darndest thing happened earlier,” Benjamin says as he grabs a handful of my hair and begins dragging me across the room.
I wince and try to crawl to keep up with the way he is dragging me, but it is hard to move with these restraints. “A few visitors showed up at my door, looking for you. Can you think of any reason why they might suspect me in your disappearance? Did you tell them about us, Serenity?”
My heart jumps at the mention of visitors. Was it Cole? Maybe Luciana? “Who was it?” I ask eagerly. “They are here, looking for me?”
“Yes,” he answers, reaching into his pocket and retrieving another needle. “Well, not here, but close enough.” He uses my hair to toss me across the foot of the bed, and jams the needle into the soft part of my behind. “As you can see, I’ve needed to upgrade to stronger drugs for you, my princess. You really are a tough little tiger cub. So disobedient to your daddy. But don’t worry. Daddy is going to spank you and teach you how to be a good girl, and things will start to get a little easier around here. Don’t you think?”
“No,” I whisper.
He slams his fist roughly into my bare ass, in the sore spot where he just deposited the contents of the needle. “Well, I beg to differ,” he says cheerfully. “Now, where were we, before I was interrupted by your stupid boyfriend? I believe that I was doing something a little like this—and starting to really make you bleed.”
I don’t hear any of his words, other than the mention of my boyfriend. Cole is here?
