Chapter Twenty-Five
Romy
W hy would Bastian do that to me?
The more I learn of my brother, the more I wonder if I ever truly knew him. He’s not the guy I’d built him up to be in my head. He’s a liar. At least you know where you stand with Dad because he’s a prick to your face. Bastian will lie straight to your face while giving you puppy dog eyes.
The manipulation I’ve endured my entire life is a weight clamped around my ankle. No matter how hard I try to fight against it so I can break the surface and breathe, their tactics threaten to pull me back under.
Is Caius my lifeline?
He just proposed, and while I get that the timing was to rescue us from the strange music and to alert others, he still bought the ring in advance.
Why?
Could he have known this moment would happen or was he saving it for a rainy day?
I’d be delusional to think that he wants to get hitched after a few romps in the bed with me. It was good sex, don’t get me wrong, but it wasn’t life changing.
There was a reason he bought that ring.
Something to further his agenda.
I can’t forget he was a part of a family who kidnapped me, screwed with my mind, drugged me, and assaulted me.
Being in his arms makes it difficult to think of anything other than him. His scent clings to me, a constant reminder of this man’s effect on me.
Besides all that, though, I also have to remember he’s saved me a lot. Tonight alone he’s come to my rescue several times. It’s possible the lines truly are blurred for him like they are for me.
Good.
At least I’m not alone.
“He’s not a hero,” Caius says, pity in his words. “Did you see he was wearing earplugs?”
What?
I gape at Caius. “No. That would mean…”
Bastian knows about the music.
He’s in on it.
The disgust roiling through me threatens to make me vomit up the wine I’d consumed. Nausea has my mouth watering in that way that you’re afraid to swallow in the event you’ll trigger the puking.
“VEIL isn’t what you think it is, love,” Caius says, stroking my cheek tenderly with his fingertip. “They’ve been experimenting on their audiences from all channels and networks under their umbrella. The subtlety is successful in pushing certain agendas from those in powerful positions down to the everyday worker bees out there.”
I remember the paper I’d found on his notepad—the one I’d used a little investigative work to dust the surface in order to see what he’d written last. Not only had he written his sister’s name, but he’d also written VEIL. Dad’s company was something he was looking into.
“Do you think my father knows something about Calista?” I ask, horrified at the possibility.
Caius purses his lips together and shrugs. “At this point, I suspect anyone and everyone, including my own family.”
“I have to get Megan away from them,” I whisper, resolve sending steel through my spine. “She’s not safe. They’re controlling her mind.”
He knows it’s true because his family put her through the damn program.
“Do what you must, but we’re leaving soon. I want to see if anyone else is wearing earplugs, specifically our fathers, and to see if I can spy anyone else looking suspicious, which might lead me to finding S.” He kisses my cheek and then whispers a strange word into my ear before pulling away. “Remember that.”
I’m still frowning in confusion long after he walks away. The music continues to play in one ear and will continue to do so as long as he stays in range. I suck in a steadying breath and exit the hallway. The crowd has fallen back into their happy, hypnotized state. I’m grateful for Beethoven blasting in my ear.
Megan is still where I’d seen her and Bastian last. While he’s distracted, talking to a man who seems overly enthralled with what he’s saying, I tug on Megan’s wrist.
“Hey,” I say, keeping my voice light. “I’m having a wardrobe malfunction. Do you think you can take a look at my zipper in the restroom?”
Megan, eyes blank and smile serene, nods. “Of course.”
My heart races in my chest as I pull her along with me back toward the hallway. If she notices my urgency, she doesn’t say anything. It’s not until we slip into the sanctity of the bathroom, away from the horrible music, do I breathe easier.
“You have to leave him,” I say bluntly. “My brother.”
Megan laughs. This is no laughing matter.
“It’s not a joke,” I hiss. “He’s manipulating you, Meg.”
She pushes against my shoulders, putting space between us. “Like I’ve told you before, I’m happy to be with Bastian. Whatever you think he’s doing to me, well, you’re wrong. Being with him is an opportunity I may never have had before.”
I can tell she believes the words coming out of her.
Too bad they’re not true.
“They warped your mind,” I explain softly. “It’s what they do and they do it well. Bastian and Dad are involved. This place too.” I thrust a finger toward the door. “The music makes you think this event is lovely and the president is wonderful.”
She laughs again. “This event is lovely and he’s truly an amazing president.”
I wish there were a way to snap my fingers and get her to shed all the brainwashing she’s endured.
“Stratosphere. Eye contact. Firm voice. Enunciate each syllable.”
Caius’s parting words a few minutes ago that he’d whispered to me seemed like gibberish. Now, I wonder if he knew I’d need them and they’d make sense later.
I grab onto Megan’s arms and bring my face close to hers. She struggles in my hold, but I’ve got determination on my side, giving me more strength.
“Strat-o-sphere,” I say in a forceful voice.
She continues to stare at me and then she blinks slowly. Again and then again. Her head shakes from side to side in a sluggish way as if she’s trying to clear something from her mind.
It’s working.
I cup her cheeks and tilt her head up to look at me. “Megan, are you okay?”
Her lashes flutter and her bottom lip begins to tremble. A low moan rattles from her throat. She tenses and panic makes her eyes flit back and forth.
“It’s okay,” I say calmly. “I’m here. It’s okay.”
Fat tears well in her eyes and one spills over, bringing mascara in its trail on her cheek. The utter look of confusion mixed with horror haunts me to my core. I can’t imagine what’s going on through her mind right now.
“Do you know where you’re at?”
She squeezes her eyes shut and nods.
“I’ve screwed up,” she whispers, voice wobbling. “I joined that program and…” More tears race down her cheeks. “I did this to myself.”
“No,” I say firmly. “They deceived you. They lured you in with promises for a better life, but then they scrambled your mind and molded you into something else. It’s not your fault.”
She hugs her middle and shudders. “I quit school. What have I done?”
“Listen.” I pull her to me for a hug. “You’re going to leave this city, okay? Go back to Mississippi. Take some time off from school and then you can go back if you still want to. You haven’t ruined your life. It was almost taken from you.”
Megan sobs, soaking my shoulder with her tears. I hug her tightly, fighting my own tears. It feels like another lifetime ago we were giggling over the cute barista on campus while trying to figure out our conspiracy theory project. So much has changed since then. We certainly have.
“I don’t know what to do,” Megan admits in a raspy, dejected voice. “Everything feels so messed up.” She pushes away, flashing me a disgusted expression. “I lost my virginity to him, Romy. Your…”
My brother took advantage of her.
“It’s not your fault,” I say again. “What he did was reprehensible.”
“It felt right at the time,” she murmurs. “But now, as I look back, it was wrong. It was as if I was trained to say and do all the right things.” She looks down at her dress and sparkly wristlet purse. “I’m a prostitute. I traded my body for pretty clothes and a place to live.”
“No.” I grip her shoulders again. “Stop letting yourself think like that. You’re a victim. And you need to get out of here. I’m going to help you, okay?”
Relief shines in her eyes. “You’d help me? But he’s your brother.”
“You’re my friend.” I sigh sadly. “I’m here because of you. I left school to find you. All this happened because I was worried about you.”
I don’t go on to tell her the abuse I suffered in the process. She already feels bad enough.
“First of all,” I say, pulling away to peek into one of the stalls. “You need this.”
She takes the tissue I’ve pulled from the roll and starts to wipe her eyes. I shake my head.
“No, tear off pieces and plug your ears. I think you’re too vulnerable right now. If you hear that music…” I trail off, shrugging. “I don’t know what will happen. We can’t chance you forgetting what’s happened to you.”
Abject fear crosses over her features. She quickly rolls up a couple of pieces to plug her ears with, then she uses what’s left over to dry her eyes and cheeks.
“Do you have money?” I ask, hoping to God she does.
She holds up her wristlet. “I have my debit card. Bastian always buys everything for me, but I still bring it just in case. There’s only a few hundred in my account left over from my tuition grant for the semester.”
“You just need enough to purchase a bus ticket back home.”
“I’m really doing this,” she whispers. “Going home.”
“Only to regroup, Megan. Then you’re going to get back out there and have the life you originally dreamed of.”
Voices can be heard coming closer and we both stiffen. Two women enter the restroom, but they hardly notice us. One goes into a stall and the other checks her makeup in the mirror.
We need to go before Bastian comes looking for her.
I take hold of her hand and we exit the bathroom. More women are walking our way, but they pay us no mind. One hums the song that’s been playing on repeat. I shoot Megan a wary glance and she frowns. When we reach the end of the hallway that deposits us to the main event area, I stop and scan the crowd.
Bastian isn’t anywhere to be found.
Good.
We skirt around the crowd along the outer walls until I notice an exit sign. This hallway is toward the back of the building and fewer people mill about over here. I hurry with Megan in tow, slipping into the hallway that’ll lead to her freedom.
We’re so close now.
As we approach the door, two Secret Servicemen stand nearby. They both watch us with interest, but we’re clearly not a threat.
“She’s feeling sick,” I say when we approach. “Needs fresh air.”
The one on the left nods. “If you leave, you can’t come back in this way. Come in through the front again.”
“Understood.”
The man grants us access through the door. Wintery wind mixed with snowflakes greets us with blustery slap to the face. We both shriek, neither of us dressed for this weather. Beethoven no longer plays in my ear as I’ve been disconnected from my phone from being too far away from it. Luckily, outside, I don’t need it. Huddled next to each other, we run in our heels toward the street corner.
“There’s a diner less than a block away,” I tell her, teeth already chattering. “Go there, call an uber, and stay warm until it gets there. Then head straight to the bus station. Once there, ditch the phone so he can’t track you. Don’t look back, Megan. Don’t ever look back.”
When we reach the corner, Megan turns to hug me fiercely. We both cry for a second, relieved at what we’ve managed to accomplish. Then she breaks away and runs across the street. I stand there, arms tight against me and shivering as I watch her get lost in the crowd of others walking.
Once I’m satisfied she’s safely gone, I turn to walk away, wondering which way is best to get to the front of the building. A voice calls out to me.
“Romy!”
A man runs from the door we’d also come from. He’s wearing a tuxedo and far enough away I can’t make out his features. But as he gets closer, I recognize him all too clearly.
Bastian.
Oh my God.
She got away just in time.
“Where’s Megan?” he demands, huffing out white puffs of air from the cold. “She went with you to the bathroom.”
I step away from the street corner and start walking along the sidewalk beside the building, hurrying to get out of this frigid weather. His footsteps race after me. Before I can get too far, he grabs hold of my chilled shoulder, whirling me around so he can see me.
“Romy,” Bastian growls. “Are you deaf?”
I lift a shivering arm and point to my earbud that’s gone silent, but he doesn’t know that. “Sorry, you’re going to have to speak louder. I can’t hear a thing.”
The worried, panicked expression on his face morphs into one of overwhelming fury.
That’s right, big brother. I know what’s going on with the music and I just saved your girlfriend from you.
I’m awake to everything…including you.