by Nora Flite
“I have to try!” I wished I could see in the damn dark. “I can't give up here.” Conway has suffered so much to save us both. I was grateful that she couldn't see me starting to cry. “I won't fucking stop fighting. Not while I'm still alive.”
He called me strong. I wouldn't let him be wrong so soon.
Emily was quiet. “There's a big pipe over in the corner,” she finally said, and I sensed her new hope taking root. “I saw it a few times when Lonnie was around. It has to thread up into the house. Maybe, if you're loud enough, Conway will hear.”
Navigating without my hands to brace a fall was deadly. I inched along, knees scooting, wading through the wetness. Unless I was wrong, it already seemed higher.
I thumped against the solid wall. Using my shoulder as guidance, I scraped along, following it until I came to a corner. I took it a few more feet—smooth metal collided with my chest. “I found it!” I shouted. Tensing my body, I banged against the hard surface with my shoulder—it thwonged. Again, I hit it, using force to create a catastrophe of sound.
He'll hear. He has to hear.
Breathing in until my ribs argued, I began to scream.
I screamed for help.
I screamed for Conway.
And when my voice faded hours later, I whispered for my mother.
- Chapter Twenty-Three -
Conway
I reached for her in the dark. I searched, hand moving, eager to find her familiar shape. When I opened my eyes, she wasn't next to me in the bed. “Georgia?” I called softly, sitting up to scan my room.
My windows were covered with wooden boards to keep out prying eyes and winter storms. They let in enough light to tell me it was daytime. Velvety blue shadows drifted over my walls. They hung on every chair, on my discarded shoes, but not on the woman I loved.
She was gone.
Rubbing my neck, I swung my legs over. She went to get a glass of water. I remembered that vividly. I must have fallen asleep before she came back. A spark popped in my brain. If she came back.
Changing into warm clothes and my boots, I hurried down the hall. This building was huge but Georgia had only a few places she could be. I checked her room first, cracking the door so hard and fast that it bounced off the wall.
No Georgia.
Fear started to cling to me. It nipped my heels as I raced through the house, searching the bathroom—had she wanted another bath? I searched the kitchen, and finally, the island itself. If Georgia loved anything it was being outside. She's here; of course she's here. It was impossible for her to be anywhere else.
Rounding the corner of the house, towards the docks, I saw Lonnie heading my way. His shoulders were swinging, eyebrows crunched low, making his pale eyes rotten-apple-black. I went to speak as we came together, but he was quicker. “She's gone.”
“What?” I asked, pulling up short. “How can she be gone?”
“She took one of the boats and left.” He clutched at his hair, his fury tangible. “Why didn't you listen to me? She used you! Her act was obvious as hell!”
No. It can't be. I wouldn't believe it. Storming past him, our arms slamming together so roughly he was thrown off balance, I ran towards the dock. The chain link gate was half-open. There was only one boat strung up on the post in the water, and still, I stood there, searching the waves for several minutes.
Lonnie was right. She'd taken a boat and fled.
“I told you,” he said behind me. “You always think you know better. Well, now our sister dies because you were too weak to do your job.”
He was hammering it home over and over. “Stop,” I said, glaring hotly at him. “Shut your damn mouth. I know I fucked up.”
“Do you, though? Or are you happy she got away?”
“I'm not...”
“Who matters more to you, brother. Georgia or Emily? Your sex toy or your flesh and blood?”
It was tempting to shove him into the waves. Instead I stomped up the path and back to the house. I had my own demons eating my heart. I didn't need Lonnie helping out. She really left. My mind was divided; she'd promised me she'd stay. I'd thought we'd worked it out, so that she was fine with playing along... fine with saving my sister...
...And fine with being used to trick my father.
That was your mistake, I told myself grimly. You thought she was fine being used. Who would be okay with that? My hastily crafted plan made over our body heat in bed involved her risking much more than me. I didn't want Facile to touch her. I would have stopped him from doing it.
Had she not believed me?
Of course not, idiot. Why would she? I'd tortured her. I'd humiliated her. I'd gone from being the one person she believed in, to showing her that monsters are real. That we're always waiting in the shadows until the time is right.
She said you weren't a monster. She'd lied to me.
But that felt wrong. It didn't... fuck, it made no sense. She'd told me she loved me. I'd felt that phrase sift through my blood and strengthened my soul. It had been real.
You know you can love someone and still betray them.
“Hey,” Lonnie said, waving his hand at me. He'd followed me into the front room of the house. “You still in there?”
Shaking myself, I eyed him closely. “I'm fine. I'm thinking about what has to happen next.”
He slumped against the front door. “You're kidding. Conway, that ship has sailed—no pun intended. We had one plan, one good plan. Now it's over with.”
“You were just like this years ago,” I said, gritting my molars. “I asked you to help me search for Emily and you acted like you didn't care.”
“Because I didn't. Why would I care where she'd gone?”
“Then why the hell did you step up to help out with all of this?”
His smile was sickening. “Seeing her in danger would be sobering for anyone.”
Puffing myself up, I held out my palm. “Give me your phone.”
“What? Why?”
“I don't want you notifying Dad about any of this.”
He laughed viciously. “First, thanks for the vote of trust. Secondly, Georgia escaping will matter whether he knows now or later.”
I curled my fingers, clutching the air. “No. If he comes here, expecting her, I can surprise him easier. I can get him to tell me where Emily is. By force, if I have to.”
My brother's eyes narrowed. “You'd go that far?”
“Yes.”
Every tooth of his shined at me. It was a grin fit for an alligator about to take a bite out of its prey. “Fine. I won't get in the way of your suicide mission. Attack dad; try to get him to tell you where Emily is. I won't stop you.” He tugged his phone out of his back pocket. As he did, something fluttered to the ground.
Spiders crawled in my veins. Bending, I pinched the purple ribbon and held it up. This was from my gift to Georgia. She'd worn it on her wrist last night. Clung to it like it meant the world to her. “Why the hell do you have this?” I asked.
“Easy now,” he said smoothly, his hands coming up in defense. “It's just some trash I found on the ground.”
Images flashed through my head; her shining eyes as she saw the cake. The way she asked if she could keep the ribbon. Her hand caressing mine shyly as we sat together.
Our first kiss.
Backing Lonnie against the wall, I pressed my switchblade close to his throat. I didn't remember drawing it. He was still smiling, but the edges trembled, his skin going sallow. “What did you do to her?”
“Conway...”
“Where is she?”
He was breathing in quick, shallow bursts. His pupils darted down to my weapon, then to me. Our staring contest never seemed to end. I'd have kept it up until we turned to dust if I had to.
Outside, the wind howled. Rain had been falling on and off since I'd woken up. The sound of it hammered on the pipes, sending metallic bells throughout the house. There wasn't a pattern to it. It was too loud, too random, to be just rain.
&nbs
p; Lonnie swallowed. “She took the boat. You know she did.”
“She wouldn't have,” I said slowly. “You must have done something to it. Did you hide it, sink it?” The blade turned in my hands.
His eyes narrowed into slits. “You're insane. She abandoned you.”
“Georgia wouldn't have run away from me. I know it in my gut.”
“But she did!”
The clanging came again. That time, Lonnie glanced down at our feet. It was fast and if I hadn't been so focused on him, I would have missed it. I wouldn't have suspected a thing. “She's down there, isn't she?” I asked, torn between rage and wonderment. Not waiting for him to respond, I shoved him backwards into the wall.
He coughed, grasping the sea foam paint, holding himself there. If he moved, I didn't see it; I was already running outside. The rain soaked me fast. It had created long mires of muck around the house, the gravel vanishing under the thick brown water.
Puddles exploded under my feet. She's in the cellar! It made sense in a fucked up way. I was connected to this woman by a thread we'd formed over 187 days in the darkness. I knew she hadn't betrayed her promise.
I could feel her.
I could always feel her.
“Georgia!” I roared, ripping the cellar doors open. It was beyond black inside. Water poured down the steps; the place looked like a submerged cavern. I lifted out my phone and used the light on it to search.
The screen bounced off of the water's surface. I waded down, then down further, until I was freezing up to my hips. The whole basement was flooded. The banging sound stopped, echoing long after through the walls. “Conway! Over here, hurry! Please!”
Rushing with new determination, I shoved through the hallway. Boxes floated into me; I pushed them aside, cutting my shoulder on a rocky corner as the hallway took a sudden turn. I hadn't come down here before; Lonnie had told me there was nothing but mice and mold. Unaware of the second set of stairs, I slipped, tumbling and gulping brackish liquid. It was a miracle I didn't drop my phone.
“Conway!”
That voice... it wasn't Georgia. It itched at part of my brain.
“I'm coming!” I shouted, coughing. Half swimming, I shined my light ahead of me. It lit up two faces—both pale, and one of them barely keeping her nose above the water. “Georgia!” I gasped, grabbing her and lifting her in my arms.
She was soaked. But she was alive.
“You came,” she said weakly. Shivering, she nuzzled into me like I was the safest place in the world. “You heard me crying for help.”
Helplessly I kissed her. I couldn't stop myself; I didn't care about the situation. I needed to feel her... taste her... to know I hadn't lost her in the darkness.
“We have to get out,” she said, staring up at me. “Untie Emily. Hurry.”
“Emily?” I whispered, seeing the other girl—really seeing her. She was strapped to a chair, and even if I hadn't recognized her from the grainy phone pictures, I'd have known she was my sister. I'd spent too many nights huddling over a book with her in our tree house.
Emily had just enough energy to smile at me. The grooves under her eyes were concave. “It was Lonnie,” she whispered, shaking her head in despair. “Our little brother. He took me. He did it all.”
“Then he'll pay for it all, too.” Hoisting Georgia in a way that let me use my hands, I freed Emily from the chair. Cradling them both I struggled up and out of that oceanic dungeon. Emily looked worse in the light of the outside world. Setting them down, I removed the rest of their bonds.
“Where's Lonnie?” Georgia asked, looking around with nervous eyes.
“It's fine, he can't hurt you,” I said, squeezing her hand. I didn't want to let her go.
“But he'll hurt others.” Her fingers curled over her mouth, she was cringing. “I found them. The women upstairs.”
My guts whirled in a bloated knot. “What women?”
“He kidnapped them all! They're tied to beds, gagged so no one can hear them. He had so many of them, Conway.” She was quivering endlessly. “Don't let him get away. He'll do it all again, I know it.”
I didn't understand everything that was going on. But if Georgia had asked me to burn the whole island down, I would have. Going after my brother was an easy request.
If Lonnie hoped to escape, there was only one way he was going to manage it. Thudding down the slippery path I spotted movement in the only boat we had left. He looked up at the sound of my approach. “Lonnie!” I shouted.
Grabbing an oar, he tried to crack me in the head with it. I was much faster than he could pray to be. Slapping the oar into the floor of the boat, I ripped him out of it, dragging him along the dock. He fought me the whole way—but I was stronger. I was angrier. I had both a devil and an angel guiding my actions. There was no way for him to shake me off.
“You piece of shit!” I said, slamming him to the ground. “Were you going to let them drown in the cellar? And what the fuck is this about other women locked upstairs?”
He crab-crawled backwards as he stared up at me. There was something missing from his face. I didn't know what it was until I saw his little grin: he wasn't even ashamed.
“Listen,” he said, getting to his feet. “I know you're upset. But who will you believe? Me, or some dumb whore? I did this for your own good, Conway. Georgia was changing you from who you were meant to be!”
The last strand of faith snapped in me. My hands were on his throat, his shirt, throwing him back. He grabbed for my wrists as I tugged him by his collar. His body left a track in the mud all the way to the edge of the cliff. Behind me, the girls were shouting—the cacophony in my ears drowned them out.
Lonnie had the grace to look shocked. He started to wrestle with me, fighting to stop me from chucking him into the ocean. We tumbled hard to the ground, his shoulders sticking out over the cliff's ledge. “What did you hope would happen?” I asked. “What was your fucking goal in bringing me here?”
His defensive mask had shattered—he was done pretending to be on my side. “I wanted you to suffer. I didn't care who had to go down with you, as long as you crumbled into nothingness.”
“But why? What did I do to you?”
“Plenty!” he laughed sourly. “I always hated your damn guts. We had a good thing going, you set it on fire when you let Georgia go free. We could have stayed in that house, doing what we wanted to whoever we wanted after Mom was gone! Didn't you get that Dad was happy she was dead? She'd cramped his habits from the start.”
My tendons squeaked as I tightened my hold further. “Kidnapping girls isn't a fucking hobby.” Was that really what happened? Had our father's evil desires been unleashed without Mom to hold him back? Or had he done something to her to get her out of the picture?
Lonnie was laughing openly. “We could have buried them all like Anna! But then you had to go and play hero.”
“I wasn't playing,” I growled. “It was never a game.”
He dug his nails into my wrists until I bled. “It was, it still is.” The pain bloomed and he flashed a manic grin. “Go on and drop me. It would feel so good, right? I know it will. I had dad killed, and I wanted to dance after that.”
“Dad is dead?” I whispered, struggling to believe it. “I thought... but you said he'd asked you to help him with this.” Hadn't that been his motivation from the start?
“He did ask me for help. Help getting you to break him out of prison. He didn't want me to do shit! I'd gone in there, the only one who'd taken the time to visit him, and he still wanted you.”
“You're evil,” I said in wonderment. “I hated him too, but to kill him when he wasn't a threat? He was never getting out of there; there was no breakout happening. It was all a damn lie!”
“You think I'm the evil one? That you only did horrible things because me and Dad were whispering in your ear? Do it, murder me and see how innocent you become. How many good deeds you suddenly do because we're not around. You're not special! You're not better than me! D
o it! Kill me, do it!”
The wind caressed my forehead. I breathed it in, letting it soothe me. Raindrops splattered heavily on my skin—the sky cracking open angrily. In my head, I heard Georgia speaking: I realized how much it meant for me to live.
“Do it,” he hissed, all teeth and gums.
Flexing, I heaved him upwards. “Conway!” Georgia screamed.
With a grunt, I spun, slamming him onto the solid ground. “No,” I said, pinning his arms behind his back. “I'm nothing like you or dad. I never was. I won't start now.”
His expression crumbled. The playfulness in him vanished; Lonnie became infected with ugly rage. “Fuck you,” he cackled. “Let's go to Hell together, huh? Bring Emily while you're at it. One big happy fucking family!”
Georgia's bare foot tapped into the mud beside me. “I thought you were going to do it,” she said. “For a minute I swear you were going to throw him over.”
“Without you, I might have,” I admitted.
Lonnie's baby-blue eyes sank onto the woman I loved; he went limp. “Little peach,” he crooned, “Are you coming close because you feel safe? Does knowing my father is dead give you closure?”
“Shut up,” I said, putting my weight on his arms.
He ignored me, his smile full of dirt. “If Conway won't kill me, he's guaranteeing I'll be able to come after you again. If I can find my sister, you better believe I can find you. You'll never feel safe. How will you ever sleep again?”
She crouched, elbows on her knees, lowering herself to speak in a soft tone. “I want to thank you, Lonnie.”
My brother and I both went stiff. “What?” he asked, scowling.
“For nine years I've been terrified. I barely left my home, never trusted anyone to get close. You and your father haunted my nightmares.” New hatred started to rise in my blood. Then she set her perfect smile on me, stopping the feeling in its tracks.
She said, “When I see you defeated in the mud like this, I know how weak you are. I know that evil people can be taken down by men with good hearts.”
Georgia looked at me through her eyelashes. “I've never felt safer in my entire life.”
