Chapter 28 Elowyn
ELOWYN
There’s light in Duncan’s dark eyes today. In the laugh he lets out as soon as Varn shoves himself between us.
So much light.
Which is…weird.
Because the light doesn’t just come from Duncan directly. The sun is shining all around us. Brightly.
Usually, when we have picnics outside, the sky is gray. In New York, fall doesn’t feel like this. Like summer.
My gut churns. What’s happening?
“Duncan?”
He says nothing, stroking Varn, who lets out a low, pleased rumble for his daddy.
I try to raise my hand. I need to…I don’t know. Grab his shoulder and shake him. Wake him up.
My hand won’t budge. My other hand won’t either.
My wrists are bound behind my back.
It makes no sense. I’m lying on my side, comfortable, while my wrists are bound?
“Duncan, what did you do to me?”
Nothing.
“I don’t like this game.” I wriggle, twisting my arms. No matter what I do, I can’t break free. “Stop it. Let me go.”
His lips won’t move. His hand strokes, strokes, strokes Varn.
Frustration pushes tears from my eyes. My chin wobbles. “Why are you doing this?”
“Oh, you know.” It’s a whisper.
But Duncan’s lips don’t move.
“I don’t. What’s going on?”
Anger morphs into panic. Why won’t he answer? And why does my cheekbone throb?
“Please.” I hate how whiny I sound. How pitiful and scared. “Talk to me. Undo these binds and tell me what’s wrong.”
“You.”
That one word hits me harder than a physical blow would.
“You can’t mean that.” The pounding in my cheek is sharper. It stings. “Duncan, help me.”
“Jesus Christ, I’m done with this shit.”
Done? Done with what shit? Me? Why?
Cold water hits my face, tearing me out of what I now realize is a dream.
For a few moments, I can’t see anything. Fluorescent lights—not the sun—shine so brightly my eyes hurt.
I can feel everything, though. Like how in this non-dream, I’m not lying on my side. In this very terrifying reality, I’m not in the middle of a picnic with Duncan and Varn either.
I’m strapped to a wooden chair, arms behind my back, bound by a rope. Another one is laced around my waist, binding me to the back of the chair. My ankles are tied to the chair legs.
Instead of crisp air, Duncan’s cologne, or Mary’s cooking, I smell sweat. And smoke.
The fire.
I spit out the icy water, blinking furiously until the room comes into focus.
Three disgusting men surround me. Their coats are gone; all of them are wearing matching hoodies.
They’re too coordinated for it to be random.
They’ve been planning this attack.
Barclay claimed Jayden was only helping him look for me. I believed Jayden was innocent.
It had sounded reasonable.
Now I see the truth. He was working with my brother the whole time.
“Hello again, Sis.” Barclay walks over to me, stopping before the chair. He bends until we’re at eye level, the movement making him grimace. “Been fantasizing about your sugar daddy?”
“Jealous much?” This tone, the challenge in it, comes easily.
After what he’s done, I can’t bring myself to coddle him anymore.
He doesn’t get a free pass to hurt my loved ones and me because he saved my life once.
“Is that it? Your best friend didn’t end up being a loser like you, so you’re throwing a tantrum? ”
“Bitch.” He backhands me.
Crack.
On my wounded cheek, fuck.
Doesn’t matter. The pain, the humiliation, I’ll deal with it later.
For now, my stupid, spoiled, immature brother and I need to talk. And by talking, I mean I’m going to give him a rude wake-up call.
“No,” I growl. “You’re the bitch.”
His eyes fly open.
“Yeah, you heard me, Barclay. B-I-T-C-H, bitch. That’s what you are.
” Crack and no, I don’t care. Let him hit me.
I can take it. “Being a bully doesn’t make you strong.
Chasing Duncan away by threatening him, kidnapping your sister, burning down their house—none of it makes you a big man.
It makes you an asshole. A violent criminal. A bitch.”
Crack. Crack. Crack.
At the final slap, his watch grazes my cheek, breaking skin. I feel blood dripping down my cheek.
“Bitch,” I hiss, refusing to crumble in front of him.
Barclay raises his hand.
“Hey, man.” That’s Jayden, coming to Barclay’s side to stop him. “Take it easy on her. Can’t you see she’s bleeding?”
My lips pinch, anger hot and fiery in my lungs.
Seriously? He’s deciding to grow a conscience now? This bastard held me down while his cousin took a swing at me.
“By the way, losing our business. Our savings…” I seethe. “Trying to sell your sister like some kind of commodity, that also makes you a bitch.”
“Elowyn, wait a second.” Victor takes Barclay’s other side, scratching the back of his neck. “We’re not here to hurt you.”
I only glower at him.
“Badly.” Red stains his cheeks as he corrects himself. “We’re here for Duncan.”
Anger builds up inside me. It’s snowballing, growing bigger and bigger by the second. Whether it’s a result of years of abuse or the confidence from Duncan’s love, it makes no difference.
I’m fuming.
“In case you haven’t noticed, you punched me.” At least Victor has the decency to look ashamed at my accusations. “What the hell does knocking a person out and kidnapping them sound like to you? A misdemeanor? Huh?”
“You’re mad at the wrong people.” Barclay’s eyebrows lower. “The man you whored yourself to, where was he when you needed him?”
“Working,” I shout, tasting blood as a drop trickles past my lips to my tongue. “But since you’re not familiar with the concept, let me explain it to you—”
Crack.
Jayden begins to pace, mumbling to himself. Victor offers me a pitiful look.
“He isn’t working, you idiot. Victor here was Duncan’s client.” Barclay’s face goes red, his temper getting the better of him. “We sent him far, far away, but you know what?”
My stomach churns. Bile creeps up my throat, thinking they set fire to the building where they were supposed to meet Duncan.
And I sent him there.
I might’ve killed him.
Wait, but they said they were here for Duncan.
Or maybe Barclay is manipulating you. Again.
Where’s Duncan?
“Since you’re as silent as you are dumb, I’ll tell you.” My brother grinds his teeth either from anger or pain. “He’s not coming for you.”
He can’t be dead. He can’t, can’t, can’t. “What did you do to him?”
“Nothing. Yet. I’m just saying, he’s either home or on his way there. Wherever he is, he’s not worried about you. Likely whining about the fire. As insufferable now as he was in high school.”
Relief knocks a shaky breath out of me. Duncan really is alive.
“My parents this, my parents that.” Barclay’s mocking imitation of Duncan’s grief is repulsive. “I put up with it for so long because Mom and Dad begged me to take him in. At least I got Ross for my troubles. That was…”
The sentence remains unfinished.
I would’ve told his friends about how he’s been a murdering bastard since high school. Sadly, that would mean dragging Duncan into it too.
Never. Ross’s murder is our secret. I don’t want the authorities sniffing around the old warehouse, burned corpse or not. No one’s harassing my soulmate.
“Anyway.” Barclay grins, and it’s ugly. “You’re deluding yourself if you think he’s gone searching for you because he loves you.
Ha. The only reason I’m counting on him taking the bait is that you’ve been an investment.
A wildly expensive whore. Other than that, you’re nothing to him. To me and everyone else too.”
“What about you, Brother?” My chest heaves. Water and probably more blood drip down my chin. “If everyone loves you so much, how come no one’s visited you over the past six months?”
Crack.
“These two assholes, how did you even rope them into this?” Maybe being upset with me will make him forget about Duncan.
I might want to break free, but I don’t want Duncan anywhere near my brother. They’ll kill him, these monsters.
Hopefully, he won’t try to be a hero if Barclay does end up calling him. I really, really wish Duncan would just call law enforcement instead of coming for me.
Yeah, right.
“I didn’t rope them into anything. When I told them not to come see me bedridden, they listened.” Crack. “When I needed them, they listened too. That’s what friends are for. Real friends.”
“Real friends, huh?” I’m really pushing my luck now, I know. I can’t help it. He burned Duncan’s house. He hurt him and me for years. “How much do they even know about you anyway? Did you tell them how useless and worthless you’ve become, hmm? How you couldn’t wipe your own ass for a month?”
Crack. Crack. Crack.
Pathetic.
Crack.
Oops, I said that out loud.
You want me to kill someone? For any goddamn reason? I will. In a fucking heartbeat.
No, I have to push Duncan out of my head. Can’t summon him here by thinking of him.
But then my mind jumps to something else, equally terrible.
Terror shoots up my spine. My heart stops beating.
No.
No. No.
“Varn!” I scream at the top of my lungs, panic taking over. How could I forget that he was right there? Protecting me? My baby. “Where is he? What did you do to my dog? WHERE IS HE?”
“Oh, him?” Barclay cocks an eyebrow. “He, uh, Vic kicked him inside the house. Let him burn with the help.”
He doesn’t fool me. Now that he’s low on meds and is hurting, his confidence wavers.
“Liar.” Hot tears of anger sting my eyes. “You’re a fucking liar, Barclay. They’re alive, all of them. I can tell.”
“Watch your mouth!” he growls, jabbing a finger at me.
I ignore him, fixing my attention on Victor. He gulps audibly.
“Is he telling the truth?” The more I wiggle my hands, the more the ropes burn and dig into my wrists.
But I can’t afford to give up. Can’t. For myself and my maybe-baby, I have to fight.
“I bet he isn’t. No, your family won’t be able to save you from a murder charge.
Arson, maybe. Kidnapping and assault? You have the connections and your law firm to make it go away.
Murder, though? You know as well as I do how it ends.
You and your cousin won’t last a day in prison. ”
Barclay slaps me again.
Victor opens his mouth, only to be interrupted.
“Fine! Fine! They’re alive. All of them, even the motherfucking dog,” Jayden shouts, the giant man burying his face in his hands. “Jesus, this wasn’t—Vic and I never meant for this to go this far. Barclay, let’s leave her here and call Duncan to come pick her up. I can’t take it anymore.”
Hope injects itself into my veins. Not because Jayden wants to save me.
My family. They really are alive.
Thank you, Universe. Thank you.
“Shut up, Jayden.” At Barclay’s order, the room goes quiet. He always had that effect on people, that ruthless authority. “We’re sticking to the plan. Once loverboy funnels his finances to my account, I’m burning him and this place down to the ground.”
My eyes dart around the room to see if he’s serious.
In one corner, there are three large red gasoline tanks. My dad’s golden Zippo sits atop one of them.
For a long, harrowing moment, fear storms in. My heart rate spikes. Vision blurring around the edges.
He’s going to burn Duncan alive.
He’s going to kill him, he’s going to kill him, he’s going to—
Stop it, I scream in my head. Stop before you pass out.
“Do not tell Duncan to come. I’m warning you, Barclay, don’t do it. Don’t hurt him. All he’s ever done is be good to you.” I bare my teeth. Better to piss Barclay off than lose myself to a panic attack. “Until you showed your true, filthy colors, that is. So just drop it.”
“Let me consider this for a second…” Barclay jerks his chin to Victor in a silent command. “No.”
His lackey slaps a slimy hand over my mouth. “Sorry.”
“My, my.” Barclay laughs when I start screaming into Victor’s palm. “I can’t wait for the guest of honor to get here.”
My brother pulls his phone out of his pocket.
Smirks at me.
And calls Duncan.