Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Gideon
“What would you like to know?” I asked Imogene once we were sufficiently away from the few people gathered at the top of Stone Mountain.
Without even discussing it, we’d both navigated down our usual path of the Cherokee trail. It was a longer hike than the route most people took back, but it was worth the extra few miles to walk along the tree-covered trail, past the creek, and by several Civil War era buildings.
“Everything.” She laughed under her breath. “And nothing at the same time, if that makes any sense.”
“It makes perfect sense. I want to tell you everything and nothing, too. Not because I don’t want you to know,” I added quickly. “Some of the things I had to go through, Imogene…” I shifted my gaze toward her, meeting her confused stare. “They won’t be easy for you to hear, but I want you to know everything. Even if I hate having to relive the worst time of my life.”
“What happened? How are you still alive when every expert said you’d never be able to survive that amount of blood loss without immediate medical care?”
I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my shorts. “Because I did get immediate medical care, just not in the traditional sense.” I looked forward, the sun peeking through the canopy of leaves coupled with the sounds of nature reminding me I was free.
That I’d survived.
That the men who did this to me would soon pay for their crimes.
“I thought it was a good Samaritan. Now I know he was hired to clean up the mess.”
“By who?”
I licked my lips and studied her. “What I’m about to tell you might be difficult to hear, and if I didn’t think it was necessary, I wouldn’t. But it’s more dangerous for you not to know.”
“You’re not making any sense, Gideon.” She shook her head, then corrected, “Samuel. I don’t even know what to call you.”
“It’s safer if you stick with Gideon.”
“Who shot you? Was it Jonah?”
I narrowed my gaze on her. “I think we both know it wasn’t.”
She blew out a breath, nodding in agreement. “Then who?”
I hesitated briefly, a part of me worried she wouldn’t believe me. That she’d choose Liam over me, as she often did during our relationship, thanks to the years he spent manipulating her.
But she needed to know. I could only hope she’d be able to see past years’ worth of Liam’s mind games to the truth.
“Liam,” I said finally, the name seeming to ring out around us.
She came to an abrupt stop, dirt and leaves kicking up around her. Her eyes widened in shock and confusion, her mouth falling open. “Liam? H-how? Why? Are you sure?”
“A lot about that time of my life is a blur. But I’ll never forget seeing the man I thought was my best friend and business partner point a gun at me.”
“Why? Why would he do that to you?”
“Why do most people commit crimes?” My lips curved into a bitter smile. “Greed. Money.”
Realization washed over her, as if the missing piece of a puzzle finally snapped into place. “You were against selling Cloud Hero to ImageScape.”
“Without me in the picture, Liam Pierce became one of the richest men in America.”
“And this good Samaritan?”
“He was hire to clean up the…mess.”
“Mess?”
“My body,” I replied bluntly, not sugarcoating anything.
“Oh.” She looked forward, her expression becoming more uneasy with every new piece of information. But I couldn’t stop here. There was so much more she needed to know.
Not to clear me of my crimes. Nothing could do that.
But to keep her safe.
“When he got there, I was still alive. Instead of killing me, this cleaner — Brian McGuire — decided to make some money off of me.”
“How?”
“By patching me up and selling me like a piece of property. Based on what I’ve learned, he does a lot of this type of cleaning. It’s perfect when you think about it. He’s a funeral director with a goddamn cremation oven at his disposal. He can easily get rid of any and all evidence. And certain people will pay a premium for that.”
I didn’t tell her how I came about that information, considering I learned it when I went through his things while I waited for his body to be turned to ash last night.
“Who did he sell you to? How could anyone?—”
“I don’t know who exactly. Henry is still trying to track down exactly who was behind it.” I’d hoped I’d find something in Brian McGuire’s files, but they were all fairly cryptic, requiring Henry’s expertise.
“What did you get sold into?”
“Underground fights. Death matches. Modern-day gladiator fights broadcast on the dark web for anyone willing to pay to watch and place bets on who would survive.” Bile rose in my throat from the memory, but I pushed it down, needing to get through this so Imogene could understand my actions.
And the lies I told.
Imogene’s face paled as she raked her gaze down my body before meeting my eyes. “That’s how you got all the scars.”
It wasn’t a question. Merely an observation.
“Yes.”
She sucked in a shuddering breath, tears welling in her eyes. “How long were you trapped there before you escaped?” she squeaked out.
“Three years, ten months, two weeks, and twenty-eight hours.” My voice was heavy with the weight of those years.
“I assume whoever was holding you didn’t let you go out of the goodness of his heart.”
“You’re right about that.” A shiver rolled down my spine as one particular memory of the depravity I’d witnessed returned to the surface.
We’d all been escorted into the training room where one of the newer prisoners knelt handcuffed in the middle of the cage, as I referred to the ring we fought in. He was a decent-sized guy, but he committed the horrible sin of trying to escape.
It wasn’t enough for the guards to simply put a bullet in his head. They used every escape attempt as a way to brainwash us into obedience.
For six horrific hours, we were forced to listen to his cries and pleas for help as a pack of dogs tore him apart. But they didn’t kill him, as if they were trained that way. It wasn’t until the head guard grew bored that he allowed him to be put him out of his misery.
But he wasn’t the one to shoot him. Instead, he made one of us do it.
Made me do it.
His was the first life I ever took. I’d remember it for the rest of my days.
“How did you escape?” Imogene’s voice pulled me out of that pit of death, returning me to the present.
“I got lucky when they were transporting us after a fight. The van hit some rough weather and lost control, crashing into a tree. The driver, guards, and the rest of the prisoners all died. I should have died, too. It’s still a blur, but I was able to think clearly enough to use the opportunity to escape.
“We’d been so hardwired against disobedience that they didn’t even bother handcuffing or chaining us when we were being transported, which allowed me to make a run for it after I was able to free myself from the smashed van. I had no idea where I was, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to get as far away from that van as possible. I was so fucking paranoid. So goddamn scared someone would find me and drag me back there. Every mile was torture, but I knew I couldn’t look back.”
“Like Orpheus,” Imogene remarked softly.
I laughed slightly, meeting her eyes. She was always fascinated by Greek Mythology, and the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice was one of her favorites. It was one of mine, too. A reminder of the perils of always looking behind you and never forward.
Wasn’t that what I was doing by carrying out this vendetta?
Wasn’t I looking back instead of ahead?
“I eventually stumbled on a cabin by a lake,” I continued, shaking off the thought. “With no shoes and only a ratty t-shirt and shorts to protect me from the elements, I wouldn’t survive the night if I didn’t break in. At that point, my sole focus was on surviving. Not long term, either. I was taking this minute by minute.
“Luckily, I found a key hidden in a fake rock by the front door, so I didn’t have to cause any damage. It’s funny,” I mused to myself. “I’d just spent four years killing to survive, yet I was worried about trespassing on someone’s property.”
“Because you didn’t lose your humanity.” She offered me a warm smile I didn’t deserve.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
She stopped walking, and I did the same. “It’s still in there.” She placed her hand on my chest. “In here. If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t have looked as distraught as you did this morning. You wouldn’t be standing here right now, telling me the truth.”
I shook my head, staring down at her in wonder. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“How do you keep your compassion after everything I did? I’ve killed people, Imogene.”
“I know better than most that sometimes you’re forced to do things you never thought you would in order to survive. That’s all you did.”
I pushed out a sigh and stepped out of her touch. “I wouldn’t judge me too kindly yet,” I said, continuing along the path.
She may have understood why I took the lives I did while in captivity. But the lives I’d taken since then?
They weren’t to survive.
They were out of vengeance, pure and simple. And I didn’t regret a single one.
“What happened once you found safety?” she asked after a few moments of silence as we walked along the bubbling brook.
“I didn’t want to stay there for too long. Just long enough to eat and clean up, maybe find some clothes. But as I walked into the living room, I caught sight of a mirror. It had been nearly four years since I’d seen my own reflection. At first, I thought I was staring at someone else. I was bigger, sure. But my face… They didn’t care if we were injured. I’d suffered a dislocated jaw. Broken nose. Missing teeth. Hell, I was still covered in blood from that night’s match. And it wasn’t my blood, either.
“That was when the reality of everything I’d been through finally hit me. It didn’t sink in when the guards tortured me in order to toughen me up for matches. Nor did it sink in the first time I entered that cage and had to kill in order to survive. But that moment, staring at my reflection with someone else’s blood staining my skin? It was all too much. All I wanted was to wash it off, as if that would erase what I’d been through. What I’d done. What I’d become.”
“Gideon, I…”
“So I took the longest shower I ever had,” I cut her off before she could offer me any more words of understanding or comfort. “It probably took a good twenty or thirty minutes before the water ran clear. Afterward, I rummaged through the closet and found some clothes. They were a little snug, but it was better than nothing. Then I…” I trailed off, swallowing hard as I glanced her way.
“Yes?” she prodded gently.
“Then I called you.”