by Debra Doxer
Grant eyes me through the rearview mirror. “You and Lucas are leaving. Then you’re going to wait for my call.”
I glance between them. “Why? What are you doing?”
He doesn’t answer as he turns into the driveway of a small white saltbox house.
“Whose house is this?” I ask.
“No more questions,” Grant says. “Your stuff is packed and waiting for you in the car out back.”
I feel panicky. I have no idea what’s going on, and they’re both shutting me out. Once Grant is out of the car, I grab Lucas’s arm. He turns to me with a somber expression.
“What is going on?” I ask. “Why are we running? You know my father will never stop looking for me.”
“He won’t be looking for you,” Lucas says evenly.
“Why not? Is Grant going to go back there with his gun and finish what he started?”
Lucas is trying to keep his expression neutral, but I don’t miss his subtle flinch.
My eyes go wide.
He turns back around and pushes out of the car. I follow right behind him, scrambling to catch up. When I do, I grip his arm again. “Don’t do this. Please. I can take his power away. Once it’s gone, he can’t hurt us anymore.”
Lucas whirls on me. “You don’t know that. You can’t take that risk. I won’t let you.”
We’re standing toe-to-toe now, and I search his face, trying to understand him. “Do you realize what you’re doing? You’re planning to murder someone.”
Grant appears beside us. His expression is incredulous. “Are you two out of your minds talking about this out here? Get inside now. The both of you.” With that, he turns and starts toward the house. I move up beside him, knowing this had to be his idea. “How could you involve Lucas in something like this?”
His expression hardens as he keeps walking. “Neither of you will be involved if you just fucking leave like you’re supposed to.”
“I hate him, too. But you’re no better than him if you do this.”
Grant bends his head close to mine. “Do you know how many people’s lives your father has destroyed? Every rumor you’ve heard about him is true, and he needs to be stopped. Now, you’re either going on your own or you’re not. But either way, you’re going.” He turns and stalks into the house.
Once he disappears through the door, Lucas takes my arm. “You have to calm down.”
I’m not sure why Grant is doing this, but I know why Lucas is, and I can’t allow it. Killing my father is not the answer. This isn’t Lucas, and I can’t let it become him, especially not for me. “Stop. Just stop and think for a minute,” I plead.
His mouth tightens as he backs away from me. “Go inside. Grant’s right. We shouldn’t be talking about this out here.”
I plant my feet on the ground defiantly.
His eyes squeeze shut before opening again. “Please, Ray.”
He sounds so desperate for me to listen that I find myself moving slowly, knowing that only more coercion awaits me in there. But I go anyway as my mind scrambles for the right words to convince them not to go through with this.
Grant left the door open, and I peer inside as I step over the threshold. The house is tiny, more like a small beach cabin. I’m barely in when a hand fists in my hair and yanks me to the side. I yelp as I’m twisted around and pushed face-first into the wall. I manage to turn enough to see the door, and I know Lucas is right behind me. But before I can yell out a warning, a hand clamps over my mouth. Lucas comes inside, and one of my father’s bodyguards, the bald one, slams something against the back of his head.
A muffled scream tears from my throat as I watch him fall to his knees. I bite down on a finger, trying to break free, but my scalp burns when my head is yanked back. Lucas turns and tackles the bodyguard who hit him. The guard stumbles backward, giving Lucas time to get to his feet and charge him again. They both go flying back into the wall. The bodyguard grunts when his head hits hard, and suddenly I’m released as the one holding me goes to help his friend.
I look around the room, searching for something I can use as a weapon. That’s when I see Grant lying unconscious on the floor behind me.
“Run!” Lucas calls to me. I lock eyes with him before the two guards work together to wrestle him to the ground.
I’m only feet away from the open front door, but I sink down onto my knees.
“Ray,” Lucas whispers, his eyes closing in frustration.
The bald guard pulls out his phone. “Yeah. We’re ready,” he says into it.
“How did you know we were going to be here?” I ask them.
“I’m psychic,” the dark-haired one smirks.
My eyes flick to Lucas. “My father wants me, not him. You can leave him here. There’s no reason to bring him.”
Lucas glares at me, but the bald bodyguard just shrugs. “I do what I’m told, which is to bring you all with us.”
He comes over and yanks my arms behind me. Lucas twists uselessly within the hold of the other one. I glance back at Grant before I’m hauled outside, wondering if he betrayed us and why he would, since this doesn’t seem to be going very well for him either.
THEY TOOK our phones and loaded us into their SUV. Now Grant is sitting beside me and Lucas is in the back. Every time I try to turn around and look at him, my hair gets yanked by the bald hulk sitting next to me.
Grant started waking up as they were loading him in, and now his expression burns with anger.
“How did this happen?” I whisper to him.
“I have no fucking clue,” he replies. “I only told people I trusted.”
I scoff at him. “Look around you, Grant. I’d say you’re not a very good judge of character.”
He shakes his head as his jaw moves back and forth. “I’m sorry, Raielle.”
Turning away from him, I don’t bother responding. I wanted this chance with my father, and now it looks like I’m going to get it. But thanks to Grant, he now knows I’m not coming willingly, and he’s going to be ready for me. My stomach burns with an acidic mix of trepidation and rage. My throat is tight with fear, not just for myself, but for Lucas. I need to be stronger than my father, the way everyone thinks I am. I have to beat him, because the alternative is too horrible to contemplate.
We’re mostly silent for the ride. Every few miles, Grant starts talking to the bodyguards, trying to convince them to let us go. They ignore him. Finally, as the car pulls to the side of the house where the clinic door is, I start to react. My skin breaks out in a cold sweat, and my stomach rolls with nausea as I recall what happened to me the last time I was here.
After the SUV comes to a stop, the bodyguards say nothing as they herd us all out. Lucas comes around and quickly closes the distance between us.
“You okay?” I ask. “Did they hurt you?”
He shakes his head and before they can separate us, I take his hand and send my energy out to him, finding a whopper of a bruise on the back of his head. I soothe it over, shrinking the swollen tissue, and eliminate the bump along with its accompanying headache.
He smiles sadly at me. “Thanks.”
I stare into his eyes and despite his outward calm, they’re filled with more pain and guilt than I can handle. Like Grant, he thinks this is his fault. “It’s going to be okay,” I say, looking away from his piercing gaze.
“Let’s go,” the dark-haired guard says.
Grant is nudged forward, and Lucas and I follow him. “Please don’t do anything stupid,” I whisper. “Let me try for the opportunity with my father that I need.”
He squeezes my fingers. “I can’t believe it’s come to this. I did everything I could so that it wouldn’t.” His throat works as he swallows hard. “Don’t you do anything stupid either.”
When we step inside the clinic, the familiar ammonia smell hits me first, and in my head I’m dragged back to the room at the end of the hall. My breathing goes shallow as I try not to think of it.
The bald guard starts to lea
d Grant away before glancing at his friend. They’re communicating something between them, and by the way their eyes are focusing on Lucas’s hand tightening around mine, I get the feeling they’re weighing the hassle of trying to separate us.
“Just put them both in the room John wanted her in,” says the dark one, the one who seems to be in charge. Then the other guard pushes on Lucas’s shoulder to move him forward. Lucas brushes him off and glares at him before slowly walking in the direction he indicated.
He’s leading us to that room, and I swallow the acid my stomach is trying to push up. What happened to me in there will haunt me for a long time. The feeling of being drained, the agony of having my energy ripped from me against my will, was incomparable. Every part of me ached, right down to my bones.
My steps slow and Lucas glances at me. I take a deep breath, steeling myself, gathering my courage. If I’m going back into that room again, I’m going to overwrite that terrifying memory with a new one, one that finally ends my father’s reign of terror over me and everyone else.
When we finally reach the door, it’s standing open. The guard nudges us inside before closing and locking it behind us. Not even a second later, Lucas pulls me into his arms. “Christ, Ray,” he whispers.
I squeeze him tight, and I feel so much regret for dragging him into this. I should have left when he asked me to. He begged me so many times to go with him, and I stubbornly refused. If anything happens to Lucas, I won’t be able to bear it.
He releases me and tries the door. Then his eyes go to the tiny rectangular window high in the wall, just out of reach. I watch silently as he stands up on the bed and attempts to get it open. It’s futile, but I know he needs to try.
Once he’s satisfied that he can’t get us out, he begins pacing. I stand there and watch him. He’s a restless combination of anger, frustration, and helplessness. Time goes by, and there’s no sign of my father. The waiting is starting to take its toll on me as I listen for any sound that could signal his approach. When day turns to night, Lucas lowers himself to the floor, leaning back against the wall. He reaches a hand out to me and I take it, lowering myself beside him, resting my head on his shoulder. There’s a perfectly good bed in this room. But I’ve already lain in that bed once. I want nothing to do with it now and Lucas seems to know that.
“Do you think you’re going to like living in New York City?” he asks.
I look up at him, surprised, before a small smile turns my lips. He’s talking about the future, and I find myself wanting to join in that daydream with him. “I’ve never been there before. But since you’ll be there, I’m sure I’ll love it.”
He opens our hands and threads his fingers through mine. “Gwen’s there, at NYU. You’d already have a friend to hang out with.”
“If she’s still talking to me after the way I dropped off the face of the earth.”
“Don’t worry. She’ll talk to you. Once we’re there, I’m going to take you on one of those carriage rides through Central Park. We’ll go to the top of the Empire State Building. I’ll buy you a hot dog from a street vendor.”
Right on cue, my stomach rumbles. I press my hand over it, giggling softly. But Lucas doesn’t laugh. “Hungry?” he asks. We haven’t had anything to eat or drink in hours.
“A little.”
He nudges me forward so he can reach his arm around me and snuggle me in next to him.
It’s fully dark now and shadows move across the walls as the moonlight begins to stream in through the tiny window. We don’t bother to move, and I can feel myself drifting off when I hear the sound of footsteps come down the hallway. My eyes pop open and my stomach jumps. Lucas’s shoulder grows tense beneath my cheek.
The door swings open, and I squint against the bright light that pours in from the hallway. “I’ve got dinner,” Shane states, looking down at us. “Don’t you two look cozy.”
Lucas starts to stand, pulling me up with him. “I shouldn’t be surprised that it’s you here,” Lucas says. I see the long-haired guard standing behind Shane, and I wonder if Shane volunteered to bring us food so he could gloat.
Shane tenses before a smirk appears on his harsh face. “I’m in a better place than you are, my friend.”
“If I’m your friend, how about letting us out of here?” Lucas suggests.
Shane gives him a condescending look. Before Lucas can get into it with him, I say, “So, you’re a part of this? You’re helping him do this to us?”
Sighing heavily, he sets the tray down on the floor. It contains two sandwiches and a couple of water bottles. “Shit, Raielle. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He just needs you to cooperate with him.”
I study his expression, trying to understand what goes on in his head, because despite his words, his actions have always had one goal in mind, to hurt me. “You know he’s not capable of actually caring about you?” I say.
Shane doesn’t respond to the question. “You should eat. You need to keep your strength up.”
“Did you hear what I said?” I ask.
He scowls. “Yeah, I heard you.”
I stare at him, stunned. “And what? You don’t care? You like the perks, the money, and the girls? Is that why you’re doing this?”
His gaze is all over the room, unable to meet mine. “What does it matter?”
“Is the money enough to help you close your eyes to it all? Or are you really like him, not caring about anything or anyone but yourself?”
For a moment he looks hurt before his eyes turn hard. “Say whatever you want to me. It doesn’t matter. I mean, look at you.” His gaze settles on me. “Did you really think that you could win? That you could suck his power right out of him and ride off into the sunset with your boyfriend?” His gaze moves to Lucas. “Or that Grant, the biggest jerk-off on the planet, would kill him for you?”
My jaw tightens, and from the corner of my eye I notice Lucas take a step toward him. “How did you know that, Shane?” he asks, somehow keeping his voice calm.
Shane’s thin lips turn up into a huge shit-eating grin. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the phone Apollo left under the couch at Meera’s house told me. It stayed on for two days before the battery finally died.” He shakes his head. “It’s so simple, yet no one ever suspects it.”
“Apollo helped you?” I ask more to myself than to him, nearly wincing at the pain of another betrayal by him.
Shane eyes me with contempt. “Apollo knows who his friends are.”
“So does Raielle,” my father says. I look up and see him standing just beyond the doorway. I tense and feel Lucas’s hand gripping mine.
My chest tightens as my father steps into the room. He fingers the light switch on the wall and bright fluorescents buzz to life, illuminating his piercing green eyes. They drill into mine, making my stomach flip.
“You can go now, Shane,” he says.
Shane glances at me before turning and leaving the room. We can hear his heavy boots moving down the hallway.
“You haven’t eaten yet,” he says, gesturing toward the tray. “Please, don’t let me stop you.”
But neither of us move or say anything.
He seems amused as his gaze travels back and forth between Lucas and me. Meanwhile, Lucas’s hand is beginning to fist in mine, and I’m praying he listens to my plea about not doing anything stupid.
“I’m so impressed with you, Raielle.” My father smiles at me, and if I didn’t understand him so well now, I might miss the monster waiting patiently behind his grin.
“If things were different,” he continues, “I’d be happy to have you by my side. I’m astounded by your power. I was stronger than my father, too, but not like you.” Then he turns his eyes on Lucas. A moment later, the bald bodyguard appears. “Take him outside, please.”
Lucas’s hand grips my waist, pulling us both back when the guard comes toward him.
I turn on my father. “If you hurt him, you will never get my cooperation.”
“Was I going to g
et it?” He smiles condescendingly at me.
Taking a deep breath, I step out of Lucas’s hold. “If you let him go, I promise to do whatever you want.”
I can practically hear Lucas bristling behind me, but he stays quiet.
My father looks at me carefully. “Do you know what I want?”
Swallowing, I nod my head.
He eyes me carefully. “I know you’ve seen Meera, and I know that Grant has been filling your head with stories about me. The truth is that my power has been weakening as I grow older. It’s a fate that none of us can escape, although I’ve certainly tried. But it seems that everything has changed. Because of you, sweetheart. Your power makes me stronger. It’s brought me back to life. So,” he says, taking a step toward me. “If I do what you’re asking and let your friend leave, then I bring you with me into any of the rooms here and ask you to heal one of my patients, you’ll do it willingly, knowing that as you’re healing, I intend to take your energy from you?”
I try not to let him see any fear in me when I nod.
“Jesus,” Lucas mutters, placing his hands on my shoulders.
My father laughs. “I wish I could believe you, Raielle.”
Lucas’s fingers unconsciously dig into me while my father studies me calmly.
“I know that you have to be trying your very hardest to heal before I can drain your power,” he says evenly. “What if you don’t do your best to help a stranger? What if you hold your energy back from me so that I can’t take what I want? A halfhearted attempt on your part does me no good.”
Now that all the artifice is gone, the stark reality of who he is makes my insides squirm. It’s hard not to rail against him and release all the fury I feel for him. Instead, even though I’m shaking like a leaf, I speak evenly. “I told you my condition for cooperating. I’ll hold up my end.”
He glances at his bodyguard before his eyes return to me. “I think there’s only one way to be sure you’re really giving it your all, using every bit of energy you have inside you.”
His words accelerate my already racing pulse. When he turns to the guard and says, “In the heart,” terror flashes through me. Instantly, I know what he intends. I go to move in front of Lucas, to block him, but my father grabs my arm and yanks me hard, pulling me to the floor. Time seems to slow as the gun appears, and Lucas tries to lunge for it.
