I nod, incapable of causing him more misery by telling him the truth. After the car accident, that place doesn’t exist anymore. It was shattered, and the new me returned to mend the wounds and find peace.
The island on his skin draws my eyes back to it as a beacon, and I get lost in the artistic details, watching him struggle with his old demons, slowly returning to consume him.
“Not here,” I hesitate, not knowing how to express myself to give him strength. “Meet me at the island,” I croak the words, motioning with my eyes to his tattoo, hoping he will understand where I’m inviting him.
His eyes fill up with tears as he swallows. His throat bobs. “I will be there,” he reassures me like we’re capable of creating an alternative reality to escape this nightmare. And perhaps we are, we just have to hold onto the hope.
32
Veracity
~Cassandra~
The mind is a magical galaxy when it needs to protect you from something horrifying. It is capable of creating incredible things, soundless walls, and safe spaces to hide. My eyes skip through the people moving around me, arranging the contraptions and toys for my unmaking. The sounds blend and mesh into noise, filling my eardrums as my mind floats into this hollow space between reality and illusion.
When Lester catches my gaze, a laugh filters through my chapped lips.
“Soon your laughs will turn into sobs and then into pleas, beautiful Cassandra. When your pain will become a dark pleasure zipping through our veins. You will sing for us.”
The words pour out of my mouth like poison to my fragile mind.
“Am I supposed to be afraid of your sadistic games or my own tears? Because I can start pleading now if that’s what makes you hard.”
Mark hisses a warning for me to stop taunting him, but I fail to care. This feels worse than death, worse than anything I ever lived through before. The helplessness, the rage, the anxious energy, demanding to do something.
“Careful, Cassandra, or I might join your masters and help you learn some respect.” His malicious tone echoes in the space, but my heartbeats steady and slow as if I’m under the spell of my own making.
I snort at him, craving to dig my nails into his throat, but they clipped them short, so I won’t hurt any of them. “You’ll have to use every trick in your sadistic mind games book to achieve that. Respect is earned not beaten into a person. I can make a good actor if I have to, but you’ll always know the truth. I despise you, and my respect is just a survival instinct.”
His face transforms, and dark eyes like opals start to glow with sadistic fire from within. “Careful, Cassandra.”
But even if I see the monster rising to the surface, I can’t help but taunt him more.
“What is it, Lester, your control is slipping or your mask?”
You can hear a pin drop as everyone waits for his reaction. But the fury boiling inside of me is a demanding force. This bastard who threatened my children, kidnapped and degraded me, needs to die, or he’ll destroy us. And what is the best way to ruin a person? Make them watch these monsters rape, abuse, and degrade your beloved one screaming for help.
So, I do what he told me not to.
I stand on my shaky feet, tingling with pins and needles from kneeling this long, and then kick off the heels, straightening my spine. Lester gawks at me rebelling against him, probably for the very last time. I want to feel physical pain grander than the fear coiling inside of me, slowly unmaking me.
When he menacingly steps closer, I move toward the bed with all the shackles and toys arranged for me. I sit at the end of it, crossing my legs, and curl my lips into a sardonic smile. He stops when he realizes I’m no longer his property, nor my christening into slavery is his to claim.
My lips curl into a satisfying smirk. “Too late,” I speak, holding on to that small victory like it’s my anchor. But when he strides toward me, I can feel his anger plowing into me.
Lester’s hand shoots out, then he reaches me, wrapping like claws around my throat. Dark eyes blazing with sadistic intent to cause me agony.
But he lets me go as the screams and chaos erupt behind the walls.
Assaulting explosion blasts through the mansion like thunder, shaking the foundation and surrounding us like hostages in its angry belly. Layers of dust rain down on us, walls shake, and screams and shouts reverberate from behind the walls. Everyone starts to run for an exit like rats from the sinking ship. But not me.
Using the distraction, I dash toward Mark. My heart thrashes in my ribcage as I try to free him from the leather binds. I tug at his bonds, but they don’t come off. Fuck! Too many hooks. I need a knife! I find one methodically placed on the table next to the cross. My blood chills, thinking of what gruesome things they meant to do with it.
“Cassandra, watch out.”
I seize a whip and crack it, trying to keep Lester away from us. Dust like smoke saturates the room until it’s starting to get hard to breathe or even see. The lights blink, and the room shrouds into darkness, and I begin to panic.
“Mark.” I grab that tool looking like it’s meant for torture and start cutting.
“Cassandra, you need to go,” he groans at me as my tears blur my vision and dust burns my retinas. “Lovebird, go, save yourself.”
I keep working, knowing none of us will leave this place alive. Yes! One of the cuffs comes off. Before I can work on the other one, Lester yanks back my hair. I yelp in pain, losing the knife.
“You heard your lover.” And then he throws me into the wall.
Stunned, I gasp, blinking as the sharp pain explodes down my arm and on the side of my face, rendering me speechless. When emergency lights come back on, I feel blood trickle down my face like vivid paint, splashing on the canvas of ashes.
“You know what’s funny?” he asks, not caring for his safety or that someone’s demolishing this place. “That you still don’t know the truth.” His opal pits sparkle, relishing in my confusion as if he’s about to fracture my world with his words.
He cranes his neck to look at Mark. “Your heart will slowly die in my arms.” He cocks a gun at me. “As I slowly and painfully choke the life out of her.” He trashes in his binds as a fear to lose me brings a new surge of strength.
My nostrils flare, watching him covered in dust, thrashing in his binds. So damn helpless, like a wounded animal. And I realize the extent of terror he lived through as a child.
“Come with me, or I’ll kill him, right here, right now,” he seethes.
“Don’t do it, Cassandra, think of your children,” he roars and then howls in pain as Lester grabs a whip from the floor where I lost it and cracks it. My heart splinters, reacting to his suffering, as I watch horrified his blood trickling down his body.
“Just stop, stop it. I’ll come with you! Look around, Lester, they’re going to bury us here. Run, save yourself. Leave Mark be!”
The walls shake from explosions and bullets, raining in the chaos of sounds, but Lester strides toward him, closing that little distance between them. Not caring even the slightest that these walls are coming down on top of us.
“Don’t hurt him! Stop, please,” I scream a plea, coughing from the dirt blocking my airway, crawling toward him on my knees.
He places his palm on the tattoo carved on his chest like a cloak to protect his heart. “It’s not Mark’s heart beating inside of his chest, you know?” He pauses as my knees start bouncing from fear. “It’s your beloved Logan’s.”
I blink confused as another blast somewhere way too close brings a new wave of dust. “What are you talking about?” I inch closer, but when he digs his nails into his inked skin, I halt. Mark throws his head back and groans in pain.
“Darren made the decision to donate his brain-dead son’s heart to his slowly dying nephew. Mark got a second chance to live. How convenient, isn’t it? Tragic actually that you fell in love with Mark because of your dead husband’s heart.” He laughs at my aghast expression, but it’s Mark’s that slays me.
“You killed Logan.” I swallow a lump in my throat, remembering a conversation with Helen and then Mark. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
“You really know how to compartmentalize, don’t you?” He closes the gap between us and I freeze, digging my nails into my flesh to stop from acting. He jerks me to my feet. “Logan was a lesson to Darren, who dared to keep my son from me, so I took his. Mark was mine. His brother left his son for me to mold as I saw fit.”
“Left?”
He throws his head back and laughs as if my question amuses him, but then he walks away, leaving me be. I grab the blade from the ground and pass it to Mark just before Lester turns around with plastic ties in his hands. His ruthless eyes pin me to the spot.
“Once upon a time, I caught his father and my wife fornicating. I could have killed them both, but she was pregnant with his baby. So, after she gave birth to Mark, I made a deal with Derrek. If he wanted her to live, he had to make a choice between his lover and bastard child.”
My heart stutters, watching confusion filter on Mark’s face.
“Derrek loved two things in life, beautiful women and money, so he chose to leave with what wasn’t his. My wife and ten million dollars instead of choosing his little baby boy.”
“Mark’s mother died in childbirth.” I try to negate his cruel words.
Dirty tears roll down my cheeks, watching Mark’s ambers dim, glazing over from the pain. He didn’t know.
“You’re lying.” I try to distract him as Mark starts to work on the wristband.
“That’s what they told him because she did, five years later, giving birth to his little sister.” He ties my wrists, brushing away strands of hair from my face. “Don’t you worry, beautiful Cassandra, I’ll take care of you, but this boy’s life belongs to me.” His face turns sinister as he cocks a gun, pointing at his heart. “And I will end it.”
“Please, don’t.” I move in front of him to block his view and to give Mark more time to work on his restraints.
Lester’s heartless expression plows a cold dagger into my lungs. But I stand my ground. Shifting to the left, I try to draw him away. And to my relief, Lester follows.
Griping my chin, he sneers at me. “But I found a perfect replacement.”
My stomach plummets as he slides the barrel on his shotgun. Oh God. No!
With agonizing clarity, I know I need to do something. Now. Or Mark won’t survive the bullet. Either the walls will bury us or Lester end us. Two choices. The same outcome.
At least I’ll choose how I die.
Fighting. Defying. Never surrendering.
I move.
But someone rams into Lester from the side, pushing me out of the way.
I trip and fall.
Before I can leap to my feet to help Mark, who’s wrestling with Lester, the gunshots explode into the atmosphere. A scream lodges in my throat as they both collapse on top of the rubble.
“Mark!”
The dust-like snow falls onto the floor, covering two bodies, lying motionless.
“No, no, no . . .” I scramble, trying to reach the man I love. “Mark! Mark, please . . . no . . .”
“Freeze, don’t move!” someone shouts, pointing the lights into my eyes. “We found them.”
“Sir, the threat is neutralized. The mission’s complete,” one of them says.
“Who are you, miss?” The other points the light into my face.
But all I can do is gape at him.
“She is in shock. Check the bodies.”
Lester’s lifeless eyes look into nothingness when they turn him around. A sob pours out of my chest as I inch to the other motionless body, afraid to find his whiskey eyes devoid of life too.
“Guns down,” an authoritative voice booms, halting me as the new team arrives.
But when the male in military getup moves closer to me, I freeze. He lifts his night-vision goggles, and I recognize the face.
“Lucas . . . Mark . . .” I choke, and he pulls out a knife to cut my restraints, then helps me to turn him around.
“We need light,” Lucas shouts.
His whole face and the angry, bloody welts on his upper body are covered in dust and grime. Then Lucas gently presses his fingers to find a pulse. I don’t dare to breathe.
“He’s alive. A gun wound grazed his shoulder, and he has a concussion.”
Relief floods me.
Lucas pulls out something from his pocket and presses it to his head wound.
“Mark, buddy, can you hear me? We need medics!”
He blinks, coughing, and my heart restarts beating again.
“Alive,” he rasps, from the dust. His voice grates in his throat like sandpaper. “You made it.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t planning to miss it,” Lucas grouses and they both grin like maniacs.
But when he looks at me, everything rushes back in. The terror. Love. Relief.
I attack Mark’s chapped lips covered in grime like my life depends on it, like my heart needs to revive his. I weep into his mouth, relieved it’s over and happy we’re saved from this nightmare.
“I love you, Mark, more than you know.” And then I pull on Lucas’ gear as wails of gratitude rip from my bleeding lips.
He came to save us when everyone else left us.
33
Tricks of Light
~Cassandra~
When the military chopper lifts us off the ground, I take in the destruction and chaos this mission caused. People, whether they’re hired to help or brought to this resort like us, are evacuating with boats.
“No one will be left behind on this godforsaken island,” Lucas speaks into the headphones.
“Good,” I say, happy that victims will be returned home and criminals will get what they deserve.
Although tears dried on my face, my heart still bleeds from the resounding terror this place inflicted on me. They patched Mark’s wounds as soon as we crawled out of the destroyed mansion and now we’re safe and sound.
Mark’s coarse lips brush my temples while my back is pressed against his chiseled chest counting his steady heartbeats. We are safe and alive. I keep reminding myself as I wrap the blanket tightly around myself, watching us gravitate away from the land.
“Where are my kids?” I ask Lucas as Mark squeezes my waist, still silent from the shock and pain meds. But at least, his childhood monster is dead, and all the people who arrived for the trade event were arrested.
When Mark saw Lester’s body, he sat there next to him for an hour, processing his death. We let him, knowing his monster, who’d been torturing him all his life, was never going to hurt him again. He needed closure.
We didn’t expect that he’d grab a knife from the floor and plow it into his chest, screaming like he was in a battle. But he did. When he rose and walked out, numbness took over him.
“Safe. Dad got them off the island just in time. They saw none of this.” He motions with his head to the island in the distance. “We’re going to meet them in ninety minutes,” he reports and then goes silent.
My mind takes me to the conversation with my mother-in-law.
In the cafeteria, her words stop my heartbeat as she asks, “What are you willing to sacrifice for the safety of your children and the man you love?”
I open my mouth, looking at her makeup-free face. “Everything. Anything.”
“Then you’ll do exactly what I’ll tell you to do.”
“You want me to trust you?” My eyebrows crease as I try to understand this woman who made my life a misery. “Why would I believe you care for my happiness, Helen?”
“If you refuse my help, you’ll lose them.”
My pulse starts to throb in my temples.
“I don’t have enough time to explain, but what I have is more valuable for your survival than anything else.”
She passes me a bracelet, and I look at her, confused. “What is this?”
“It’s a panic bracelet for emergencies in case something happens to
you. It activates right here, and these are transmitters. This is high tech. If anyone removes your bracelet, your earrings will be able to send a signal, and we’ll track your location.”
Hoping it wouldn’t be found, I put it into my twins’ pajama pockets before I lowered them to the ground. Helen knew, or at least, suspected this would happen. They all acted weird for a reason.
But I feel deceived because instead of telling me, they kept me in the dark. Unable to cope with all that could have gone wrong, I shut my eyes and let myself drift to sleep in the embrace of the man I love.
When Mark presses his chapped lips to mine, I snap my eyes open, blinking at the light. “We’re here.” His soft, vulnerable gaze washes over me like a spring of water, and I take a lungful of air. Hot tears spring from my eyelids as I cup his coarse face and kiss those lips. He is mine.
His crestfallen expression when Lester told me the truth about his heart seeps into my mind, sinking like a knife into my soul.
I croak, “He was wrong, you know?” I brush my lips against his earlobe, leaning back to look at him. “I love you regardless of your scars, evil demons, and violent nightmares. You’re capable of sacrificing everything for the safety of innocent children. You’re an extraordinary man, Mark. With a huge heart and courage to fight for the people you love.”
Clear teardrops run down his filthy cheeks, washing over his lips. He parts them to claim mine, filling me with his taste, until all else fades and only we remain.
“I was drawn to you since I received it.” He points to his heart. His words rattle in his raw throat. “And you were drawn to me because of it too.”
I press my forehead to him, as the guys stand outside the chopper with their backs to us, letting us have this moment. Still covered in grime, dust, and crusted blood, we’re two sculptures of jaded lives on a canvas of vivid beauty outside, welcoming us back to safety.
“Does it matter why we feel the way we feel? I lost so much, Mark, and so did you. This”—I point to his steadily beating heart and stroke his scruffy cheek—“is a piece of your brother inside of you. Your heart is a gift of life. But love is a capacity to devote yourself to another regardless of your ego, fears, and scars. I don’t love you because of him, I love you because of who you are.”
Tangled IN LIES (Book#3, IN YOU) Page 31
