Chapter 17 A Killer Nightmare
seventeen
a killer nightmare
Fallon
My head throbbed, a relentless drumbeat against my skull.
My mouth was a desert, the metallic tang on my tongue turning my stomach.
As my eyelids fluttered open, recognition slammed into me.
This was the old mill, and this wasn’t the first time Foley had brought me here.
It was his sanctuary for unspeakable acts, a place where bloodstains and worse wouldn't defile the pristine walls of his mansion.
A childhood memory ripped through me—chained at the ankle, nothing but a threadbare bed for company, and that boy, the one with eyes like crystal, huddled in the shadows of a closet.
Foley, the monster, wrapping the chain around my neck, flinging me onto the bed.
I shuddered as the memory unspooled, and something new, something I’d missed before, emerged from the darkness.
The boy had been there, a silent witness to Foley’s violation.
I hadn’t realized he was watching. But he was.
“Warrin, you can come out now,” Foley's voice, as he buckled his belt, the chain around my neck falling loose, freeing me to breathe.
I looked, and there he was, stepping out of the closet, face puffy and bruised. He had a look that I knew all too well. Despite being older than me, he looked like a terrified child. It was heartbreaking, even in this nightmare.
I closed my eyes, trying to claw my way back into that fractured memory, searching for something, anything, I’d overlooked.
“See what happens to those who cross me?” Foley said to the boy, his arm snaking around his shoulders, drawing him close.
The resemblance hit me then, a brutal punch to the gut. He was Foley’s son. No question. But was there something more, a hidden layer I was missing? I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking out the wind whistling through the mill's decaying walls, determined to uncover the secrets buried within.
“Have you seen your mother today, Warrin?” Foley asked. The boy shook his head in a gesture of defeat.
“I couldn’t find her,” he whispered, his gaze meeting mine, and I saw a flicker of pity in them.
I crawled to the headboard, pulling my knees to my chest, fighting the tide of tears threatening to spill. I remembered the bittersweet relief of getting Brady away from Foley’s clutches, the nauseating price I’d paid for my brother’s freedom. Yet, I'd do it all again, without hesitation.
“That’s because she defied me,” Foley sneered, “She’s in the next room if you want to see her. I'll be in there in a second.” He smirked at me, pushing the boy from the room, and my blood turned to ice as he advanced.
"Let me guess, did his mother trade her life to you too?" I spat, knowing the words would bring pain.
His fist exploded into my face, blood erupting from my nose. He grabbed my hair, yanking my head back, forcing me to meet his gaze, his voice a venomous whisper.
"You're about to learn what happens to those who defy me, Fallon. Pay attention." He grinned again, leaving the door ajar, the promise of horror hanging in the air.
I pressed my ear to the thin wall, and a woman's desperate pleas shattered my control. I choked back sobs, my body trembling, her repeated no’s breaking my heart until a revelation that I would never be able to come to terms with:
"Take this, son," Foley said. I couldn't see what was happening.
"Why do I need a gun?" the boy asked, terror lacing his voice.
The woman’s scream ripped through the air, followed by Foley’s furious tirade, his voice raw with contempt. She was worthless, just another mouth to feed, she belonged to him. It was time for him to collect.
"Shoot her, Warrin," Foley commanded, a sadistic glee in his tone.
Then, a struggle, a gunshot, and the woman's screams were silenced. Foley returned, dragging the boy, who was now weeping, a new cut marring his lip, a gun clutched in his hand.
“If you keep fucking defying me, Fallon, don’t think my boy here won’t put a bullet through your head. He just killed his own mother. What makes you think he wouldn’t kill a nobody like you?”
Panic choked my throat, snapping me back to reality. I was on the same bed, the same chains. Flashbacks slammed into me, one after another. I refused to be dragged back, forcing them back into the shadows. But I held on to the fragments, the things I hadn’t remembered.
I hadn’t remembered the boy who’d tried to protect me was Foley's son. I hadn't remembered his name. I hadn’t remembered him being forced to kill his mother. I hadn’t remembered so much, and the question of why clawed at me. Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.
His eyes…I recognized them. They were War’s eyes, which meant the boy from my past—Foley’s secret son—was the same man who’d walked into my life and stolen my heart. Did he remember what I didn’t? Did he know he was Foley's son?
The questions spun in my head, a dizzying whirlwind, and my head ached more. The betrayal cut me to the core, but a voice inside told me that, like me, War didn’t remember either. What had Foley done to us?
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and the flickering bulb overhead was pulled, barely illuminating the room. Foley stood there, hands clasped, a cigar clamped between his teeth. I sat up, scrambling toward the headboard, my old defense, a pathetic attempt to put distance between us. It never worked.
Foley laughed, a sound that mocked my misery.
He walked towards me, settling on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on a faded photograph on the broken nightstand.
The secret felt like it was about to reveal itself.
He seemed to be about to spill, and my heart sank.
He tossed the picture, and it landed near my leg.
I tried to look away, but curiosity won.
My jaw dropped. I blinked, rubbed my eyes, and looked again. It was real. In the picture was, Foley, a man who looked just like him but with blonde hair and green eyes, my mother, and me and Brady when we were very little. I was utterly confused.
“What is this?” I asked, picking up the picture.
I saw Foley's son in the background, sitting on his mother's lap. The whole thing seemed wrong, and panic bubbled up. What truly sent me over the edge was that Evander Foley was holding me, and I looked… happy. What the hell was he up to? I didn't know but I knew it wouldn't be good.
“You don’t remember anything, do you?” He asked, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
I shook my head, unable to speak.
“Your father isn’t in prison, Fallon. He’s holding your brother in that picture,” he laughed, the sound of a victor.
“You’re fucking lying!” I screamed, feeling lost and vulnerable.
“I’m not. Your father was my stepbrother, and you killed him because I told you to.
I knew your mother through him, and I knew how she’d do anything for money.
When you and Brady were young, she came to me begging for help.
Your father would beat the hell out of her, and she wanted to get you guys away from him,” he said, his words fading as my world crumbled.
My whole life was a lie, a secret I didn't know I was keeping, and it wasn't the secret I thought it was. My secret didn't even compare.
My father wasn’t in prison. He was dead, and I had killed him. Evander Foley hadn't simply appeared in my life; he had been there all along, thanks to my mother. I was related to a monster, and I had no idea.
The air thickened with the stench of mildew and decay as the revelation slammed into me, knocking the breath from my lungs.
My mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the twisted narrative Foley was weaving.
My father, the man I’d been told was a violent criminal, a man I hated, was dead, killed by my own hand?
It was too much to process, a betrayal that ran deeper than the physical wounds I'd endured.
“But…but Brady,” I stammered, the name a strangled whisper.
My brother, the only constant in my chaotic life, the reason I fought to survive, was now the center of a different nightmare.
Foley’s smile widened, a predator savoring its kill.
He reached into his pocket, producing a small, tarnished silver locket.
He flicked it open, revealing a miniature portrait inside.
It was Brady, as I remembered him from childhood.
His young eyes, full of a light that was now gone, stared back at me, a silent plea hanging in the air.
“He’s always known. He might have blocked it out, but he knew.. After all, you’ve been protecting him from me. He would never betray you.”
My blood ran cold. Brady knew? Knew all along? The weight of it pressed down on me, crushing the last vestiges of hope. Had he been working with Foley again? Had he been in on the deception? Or was he another pawn, caught in the web of Foley’s manipulation?
“What do you want?” I finally managed, my voice hoarse.
I knew, with chilling certainty, that this wasn’t about revenge or retribution. This was about something far more insidious, something that preyed on the very core of my being.
Foley leaned closer, his breath hot against my face. "I want you to remember. All of it. The life we shared. The sacrifices you made for me. The love you had for me," he whispered, his words dripping with venom. "I want you to remember that, Fallon. Because it's all true."
He traced the scar on my cheek, the one I had earned when I was locked up in this place, the one that served as a constant reminder of what I had lost, what I had done. His touch was like a physical violation, each brush of his finger a fresh assault on my already fractured sanity.
I flinched away, desperately trying to shut out the words, the memories that threatened to flood back. My mind was a battlefield, filled with conflicting images, fragmented truths, and the sickening realization that I was caught in a trap of Foley's own making.
"And War?" I managed to ask, though the word felt like a shard of glass in my throat.
I couldn't forget the man I loved, even if I understood that his very existence was a lie. Foley chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down my spine.
"Ah, War. He is… complicated. A victim of circumstance, just like you. He's always been drawn to you, Fallon. In a way, you're the one thing he's ever truly wanted."
"Does he remember?" I asked, hoping he'd tell me no.
Foley shook his head. "I doubt it. His younger years were filled with so much trauma, he buried his life and started a new one. He thought working for me was by chance, but it wasn't. He found his way back home without even realizing it."
Foley cupped my cheek, his grip strong and threatening. I tried to move away but I couldn't, he had me trapped once again, but this time I wasn't going to just give in and let him win.
"You have something that belongs to me, Fallon," he said, and a shiver attacked my entire body.
"What's that?" I asked, playing dumb.
"My fucking son, and I want him back." He glared at me, and although a wave of relief washed over me now that the truth was out in the open, I knew we were far from being out of danger.
Foley wouldn't stop hunting me and the people I loved unless someone stopped him.