Chapter Thirty-Three Larissa
Chapter Thirty-Three
LARISSA
REMEMBERING THE WAY back, I realize within minutes I’m not being tailed.
That damning truth tempts me to turn the wheel anywhere but the wrath-filled road ahead.
Each unaccompanied mile confirming the truth that, despite ignoring the GPS, I have been and am still on Tyler’s intended path for me, in the only direction he’ll allow me to travel—straight into his waiting hands.
Even as everything inside me tells me to turn back, I know it’s far too late to change course.
It’s my anger at that truth that takes the wheel until I’m skidding to a stop at the foot of the house.
Minutes after I initially left this driveway, I came to the conclusion that Ciro’s house was Tyler’s way of leading me towards the aftermath of the game he’d already played out.
Ending with my arrival to see that his ‘soon’ had already taken place.
The timing was the only halftruth he gave before offering me one last chance to come clean.
Not giving me any advantage at all while damning my brother.
Holding every card I gave him before leaving me with his full fucking hand.
In giving him my trust and what I could, I gave him the power to play this out however he saw fit.
Too much power. Then again, I knew that was a possibility before knocking on the door to his world.
And now, after only managing to get a glimpse inside his, I’ve allowed him full invasion of mine.
Like an utter fucking fool.
Knowing all of it, I still believed, somehow, he would allow me some part to play. Grant me some justice for all I did give him. Something.
It’s that truth now painfully twisted, along with his refusal to give me anything, that has me exiting his truck and pounding up the steps and through the front door.
My call of his name cut short along with my strides at the foot of the kitchen and the sight of the back door …
which is wide open—in invitation. Dread envelops me as I contemplate what awaits me in those woods.
Our woods. His instruction to finish what we started, and where, in Tyler’s mind, it all truly began.
But I know better, and I’m the only one.
His threatening invite and confidence in my RSVP all part of his new and telling plan.
Behind the wheel of his truck, he granted me the freedom to make that long drive to Ciro’s.
With the added possibility that if I made it to my father’s house today, drove straight there instead of stopping at that clinic and making that call, I might’ve been granted the freedom I asked for. So close. So fucking close.
Even as I stalk toward the door, I know that the second I step through to the other side, my life will change drastically from what it could have been hours ago.
That I’ll most likely never know true freedom again.
Not for a single day. His battle line drawn and crystal clear, and with my last step through, I seal my fate.
Even if I flee, I’ve made a mortal enemy of the most powerful man in the world.
There was never a choice. Even as I make a beeline for the woods, choking a little as I go, I will time to slow.
Knowing that no matter what I do or say, in his mind, I’ve betrayed him.
Because of that stop and that call, what trust he gave me has been irreparably destroyed.
Swallowing down the image of Peter’s lifeless body and the widening glacier eyes that met mine on the other side of that door, I escalate my steps as I begin to race toward Tyler with my truth. Even if he turns a deaf ear to it and his hatred blinds me, I have to try and make him see.
Because by omission, I did betray him.
Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.
The altered pounding in my chest jostles me, reminding me of the man he is, which only strengthens my resolve to try as I race toward him.
More determined to somehow make him hear me.
With the last of my physical strength waning, I will my fight forward, toward him.
Toward finishing the bulk of the personal mission I started eight long years ago.
Rushing through the endless woods, I stumble slightly in my footing as I search for any sign of the campground. Fueled by adrenaline, fear, and anger, it’s the sliver of hope that remains—a vision that kick-started my new mission—that propels me forward.
“Let’s go to the pool after this,” Kacey says, nudging my shoulder where she sits next to me at the four-top at the food court. “What do you think?”
I shrug as they go on and on about afternoon plans while I pull down the sleeve of my long-sleeved tee to cover the fresh bruises on my wrists. Bruises similar to others I’ve concealed in the past, as Kacey goads me.
“Girl, you literally just bought that bomb-ass bikini, and with that body you’re rocking, it’s time to use it. Come on, summer is in full swing, and you haven’t done shit with us.”
Hailey’s and Kacey’s prodding eyes implore mine for fast agreement as I stall, sipping my straw and knowing I’ll be forced to make a last-minute excuse. The same excuse I used to miss my junior prom this past spring.
The same type of excuse I always use. Because this time, Ciro made sure my cold blue shadow not only was within reach to distract him from his punishment, but was forced to watch me endure the worst of it.
Only to pay hell for it after, with Ciro blaming my dishonorable mouth and behavior on him.
Which only tells me my father either knows or suspects us.
Even so, my protector can’t do anything more than he has.
Our arguments in the last few months are starting to unravel us.
His failure to believe in his own self-worth deteriorating my own belief that we can survive that house.
At this point, I lack any faith that what I have remaining can amount to anything.
My only help in protecting Iggy now is fighting hard to keep his own sanity.
My shadow’s promise to me becoming a burden I can so clearly see.
Even with the love of my shadow within reach, his life has become hell because of his involvement with me.
We’re no longer one another’s solace but, because of Ciro, have become more and more the source of one another’s misery.
Panic at the thought of returning to that house starts to cloud my vision as my stomach churns and my shaking hands reject going back altogether. Not a shred of light left visible enough to grasp onto. At this point, Ignacio is the only reason I haven’t loaded a clip for myself.
As my bleak future plays out before my eyes, I lose all fight inside.
Even with the promises love makes, and my need to protect Iggy, and the strength it once gave, there’s no real protection, and there never will be.
And with Roc’s continued absence for years now, my fear is that my father might have cleaned up not only Roc’s ‘mess’ but his own, disposing of his firstborn son due to disappointment.
Which is not uncommon for a family like mine.
But to others, to others … Can’t they see? Can’t they see his fingerprints on my wrists, in my brain when they look at me? Am I that good at cloaking the evil of his conditioning? Or are people that unaware of its existence?
The truth of that ignorance becomes clear as the two oblivious girls opposite me talk about the importance of starter tans.
At the same time, I frantically search the sea of passersby with everyday problems. Problems I’m sure don’t include the lash of the whip of their sadistic mafia don fathers.
They aren’t stuck watching their invalid mother rock back and forth daily, mute and too absorbed in her own break to approach her failure of us.
As the break increases, a scream rises in my throat as I search and search the crowd of faces, wondering if there’s a single shred of reason why I should survive one more day for the same bleak existence.
At my breaking point, panic sears me through as I eye the mall cop nearby, joking with a lady just outside her store.
Briefly, I wonder if I escalated this, could it possibly end today?
If, by finally allowing the scream to pass my lips, someone might release us from the hell we’ve endured all these years.
That idea dashed in the next second, knowing exactly who Ciro would sacrifice if even one of the cops at the Asheville station is on his payroll.
It’s the consequences for the people I’m protecting that keep me mute.
Pinching the inside of my arm to release some of the pain from my demanded silence, I create my own fresh bruise, gaining no relief.
Frantically scanning the sea of faces, I begin praying for a miracle, for some sign that God exists.
Any sign there’s a God that would be merciful enough to show me a way out.
Even as I think it, Kacey and Hailey break into maniacal laughter while dumping our lunch tray.
Their laugh unknowingly damning me further as the last of my hope depletes.
Just as I resign that I can’t and won’t make it another day, I look up …
Memory fresh, it drives me forward, hammering over the uneven forest floor.
Hacking, pulse erratic, knowing I’m racing toward Tyler’s intended end for me.
Relief and dread mix when I glimpse smoke before spotting the tent through the trees.
Only skidding to a stop at the sight that awaits me.
A sight that embodies the very hope I had that day, though this scenario is far different from the one I had begged God for.
The light I sought out latches his void metal eyes to mine, his gun trained on the monster I’ve been chained to my entire existence.
The monster who gave me life, only to take it away day by day.
Beretta in hand, I draw in as much breath as I can as Ciro follows Tyler’s line of sight, locking frantic eyes on me as he immediately begins spouting orders.