Chapter 8
Kinsley
Where To Begin?
Following Sebastian and Marcel into the drawing room, I took a seat opposite them.
I pulled my knees up, laid my head down on them, and waited.
Seeing Marcel earlier today was such a relief to my soul that I wanted to pour out everything, and I’d spent some time during dinner deciding how I was going to do this.
It was imperative that I share my story without involving the other girls. While we experienced it together, their story was not mine to tell, and I’d already concluded I’d never see them again. Not when my only option was to disappear off the face of the earth.
I had foolishly put off what I should have done the moment I awoke from the fire. If I had told the fire chief to take me to town, there would have been nothing the Kings could have done to stop me. Instead, I selfishly tried to ride it out, and all it did was backfire.
Now Marcel would get the truth of what happened during the two years I went missing. It just wouldn’t involve my season sisters on any level. I would pretend I was alone. Hell, with the strict way we weren’t allowed to communicate or connect, I may as well have been.
So the story would be truth mixed with lies—the lies being the fake schedule of my forced performances. I could make it work. It was a simple matter of changing the language from us and we to I and me.
I took a deep breath. “Dr. Marcel, can we talk for a bit?”
Shock registered on his handsome face. “Of course we can. What would you like to talk about?” he tentatively added.
Sebastian got up to leave, but I stopped him.
“Please stay. I’ll save the really tough stuff for later, but I need to tell you both something, and it’s important.
” The two of them exchanged a look while Sebastian sat back down.
“I think I am—” I started and then took a deep breath to rephrase it.
“I’m in danger, and being involved with me comes at a cost. One that no one is responsible for paying but me. ”
“Why don’t you let us be the judge on the cost of being involved with you,” Marcel said.
“I promise to tell you everything. I meant what I said about being ready, and once I tell you, I’ll need your help. I left something in Skagit that is very valuable to me and my future.”
“Go on,” he prompted.
“I never intended to stay. I was always going to leave, you know. You were right about it being unsustainable to be involved with three men—brothers, for god’s sake. I guess I just felt like I’d lived under someone else’s terms my entire life. For once, I wanted to go out on mine. You know?”
“What did you leave behind, tiny tot?” Sebastian asked, leaning forward.
“A container with my future inside. Money, IDs, account numbers. I know you have your thoughts about Owen, Dr. Marcel, but I promise after I tell you everything, you’ll understand.”
I knew they had to know Owen was operating under an alias. Nik was pretty thorough and probably aware of what other ones he used, as well as the offshore accounts he had. I didn’t know if they’d found anything of mine.
“I need to disappear. I can pay for it, but I need that container. It will hopefully give me the information I need. Depending on what’s inside, I may need to find someone who could assist me with actually disappearing.”
Sebastian and Marcel exchanged an uneasy glance. “In order to do that, we would need to involve one of the guys to get the container. I thought you didn’t want them to know you’re here,” Sebastian stated.
I glanced up, surprising them with my next words. “Marcus would get it for me. He won’t tell.” My confidence in the single statement had Sebastian raising his eyebrow.
“You sure about that?” he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.
“Positive. Text him,” I challenged, feeling a sense of boldness.
Sebastian took out his phone and sent him a message. Less than a minute later, he tilted his head to the side and said, “I’ll be damned, tiny tot. Consider it done.”
I gave him the details to pass along to Marcus and then swallowed hard. “When I say disappear, I mean, like, changing my physical appearance, disappear. Give up everything I’ve ever loved and who I am.”
“How about we take it one step at a time?” Marcel said, trying to calm me.
“I don’t have that much time. In fact, if you’re up for it, I’d like to begin tonight.
” My eyes bored into his. He nodded to Sebastian, who stood to leave.
“You can stay for this part too, Torturer. Since you’re at risk now as well.
There’s other stuff I’ll only want to tell Marcel, but I’d like it if you stayed a bit longer. ”
He immediately sat back down. I straightened, put my feet on the ground, and stood up.
Moving over to the bar, I poured myself a shot and downed it.
The warmth instantly spread through my chest, calming me.
I poured another and turned my attention to the two men.
Once more, I joined them, settling on the couch.
“I killed a man.” My body shook with the memory, and the drink in my glass sloshed around.
Marcel took a deep breath, but his gaze remained fixed on me. They waited in silence while I brought the dark amber liquid up for courage and took another sip.
“I’d do it again if I had to. I don’t know what the guys said about my disappearance, but I didn’t run away or leave on my own.
I was taken. It wasn’t the first time, either.
He found me. I don’t know how, but he did.
” I looked at Marcel. There was no hiding the amount of fear I was experiencing as the words left my mouth.
“The guys think you ran away,” Sebastian said, offering me my first bit of information about them.
“Which makes sense because I did a horrible thing. I put Ivan in a really uncomfortable position. I won’t go into detail, but it was all me. You guys don’t keep secrets, so you may already know or have an idea.”
I was fishing, gauging how much I might have to share about that aspect of things. To my utter relief, Marcel’s next words comforted me, at least temporarily. I knew I’d have to tell him eventually, but I wasn’t sure I could bear it tonight.
“We actually don’t. We know he’s upset, but outside of that, he hasn’t shared with any of us.”
“The man you killed. Did he hurt you sexually?” Sebastian asked delicately.
I wondered if Marcel had shared my file with him. I knew he had the nurse make a copy, so it seemed logical. Opening up to both of them was almost cathartic. And as I shared the details with them, a gleam shone in Sebastian’s eyes.
“You remained calm and did what was necessary. The guys would be extremely proud of you. I know Bash and I are,” Marcel said evenly.
Nodding in acknowledgment, I said, “Sebastian, it’s probably best if you go now. I need to start at the beginning. Many things won’t make sense to you, and I don’t want you to have to hear it.” I took another sip of my drink.
“You got it, tiny tot. I’m so fucking glad you’re here,” he said, standing. He stopped, leaned down, and kissed me on the top of my head before closing the door behind him.
After fixing himself a drink, Marcel sat across from me.
“I know you have your assumptions about my life, and some of them are spot on. Others, not so much. So I’ll start at the beginning,” I said.
Marcel listened as I began telling him the story, starting with the audition. He had a carefully constructed mask of someone who was there to listen and not pass judgment. Somehow, being with him in person made talking so much easier.
“Pasha’s parents took him, and everything went fine. I begged my father to let me try out too. It was a silly little girl thing. It wasn’t necessarily about me making it big or anything. Pasha was the only boy I had ever danced with, and if he was going, I wanted to go too.”
I paused at the nostalgic look on Marcel’s face. “What’s that look for?” I asked, stalling as I began thinking ahead to when I’d have to share the awful parts.
“I’m just imagining you following him around everywhere, is all. Bella used to do that with us.”
I nodded. “My father ended up relenting. We went to the audition, and there wasn’t anything abnormal about it.
We had to travel to get there, but I was never separated from them.
After the audition, my father decided he would rather drive through the night than wait until morning.
Not that it would have made a difference. ”
Immediately, my demeanor changed. Marcel leaned back, bracing himself, sensing that it was about to get serious.
Tears coursed down my cheeks as I relived that night.
My palms grew sweaty. I’d only ever told Owen the story of how they were killed before my eyes.
“Dr. Marcel, can I tell you something that has been bothering me more and more?”
“Of course.” He flashed me a grin as we fell back into our perspective doctor/patient roles.
“I can’t remember what my parents looked like exactly. It’s fuzzy, and it bothers me deep inside. It’s such a dishonor. I’m their daughter and can’t recall their faces to save my life,” I sobbed.
“It’s not uncommon for children who lose a parent to forget what they look like. Don’t be upset with yourself. You’re in no way dishonoring them by any stretch of the imagination.”
“The very next thing I remember is waking up in a room. It was underground, like in a basement or something, and was cold and damp. It had an open bathroom in the same space, but there were no windows.”
My mind drifted to that horrible place, and a shudder ran through me.
“Do you want to take a break or pick up tomorrow? There’s no need to rush this,” he said after several minutes of me not speaking.
“No, I’d like to go on a bit more if I can.”
He nodded his approval, and I picked up the story. “There were two men, the one who took me and another. They introduced themselves as the Mask and the Collector.”
“Did you ever hear them address each other by names?”
Frowning, I shook my head. “The one man always wore a mask. Sometimes it would change, but it covered his entire face. He came to me that first night, told me I was no longer Mischa Natalya. My new name was Anna, like the ballerina Anna Pavlova. He told me I was his property now and that he would make me famous.”
I cringed a bit as my story began the complicated process of weaving in truth and lies.
Going with a former famous ballerina seemed easier than saying Spring.
That might prompt questions too tricky to answer.
He was too smart. If there was a spring, where were the other seasons?
Feeling like it was the right thing to do, I forged ahead.
“Make you famous?” he prodded.
“Yes, but not like Hollywood or star famous. More like someone who was highly sought after and wanted. By men.”
“Are you telling me that you were taken with the intent of selling you at some point?” A rush of emotions erupted across his face as he spoke. My short nod had his fists clenching.
“You were, what, eight years old? Eight fucking years old,” he murmured, almost to himself.
Pushing on, I said, “I was given a list of rules that first night. I wasn’t allowed to speak unless given permission.
The men were to be referred to as Sir. The better I behaved, the more rewards I would earn.
If I disobeyed, I’d be punished. The punishment ranged from privileges revoked to beatings and… worse.”