23. Twenty One
Twenty One
Creed
Excruciating anxiety courses through me.
It’s been hours, and there’s still no sign of Cecil.
I’ve wandered the house all day, bouncing between windows and peering out into fields.
Not only have I been keeping an eye out for my brother, but also any unwelcome visitors.
I’ve been white knuckling a butcher knife for the better part of the afternoon.
My optimism has shriveled all the while, leaving me with nothing but a headache and a knot in my stomach. Stars wink through the daylight now, and the clock says Cecil’s been gone for nearly ten hours. I gnaw at the inside of my cheek.
My eyes have begun to glaze over, my vision lost to the nightmare scenarios playing in my head. What if Eden drowned in the pond, and she’s out there, floating amongst the fish? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
Headlights flash in the distance. Unease grips me, and I inch my face closer to the glass.
It's him.
The knife clatters to the ground, forgotten.
I shoot outside, the gravel biting into the pads of my socked feet.
The truck is maybe a hundred yards from where I stand, but I don’t stop running.
I can’t get to it fast enough. It’s only when the vehicle is forced to skid to a stop in front of me that I’m able to make out two people inside.
Heading straight for the passenger side, I wrench the door open.
Without a moment of hesitation, I’m pulling Eden from the seat and holding her to my body.
Her feet dangle beneath her, and her arms link around my neck a little too tightly.
I bury my face in her matted hair, kissing her face anywhere I can.
A third hand on my back has me placing Eden on her feet. I only get a glimpse of her face before I’m turning to Cecil, but what I do see makes my gut churn.
She looks horrible. Battered. Vacant.
“Take her inside,” he says. “We need to talk.”
With a nod, I loop my arm around Eden’s waist and walk her to the house. Our eyes meet briefly but she quickly turns away. I’m not sure how it’s possible, but I think things have gotten worse.
Cecil and I sit across from one another at the kitchen island.
My leg bounces incessantly, rattling the salt and pepper shakers on the table.
My brother reaches out and separates the two glass bottles so they’re no longer touching.
His expression is neutral, but I can tell by the tension in his shoulders that he’s dreading this discussion.
My heart has been racing all day, my fingers twitching with nerves. Although Eden is back home, unease fills the air.
She’s in her room. I was able to get her to eat half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but I damn near had to force her.
She would crane her neck away from me every time I tried to coax her into another bite.
After a dollop of jelly fell into her hair during the struggle, I relented and left her alone.
Should we have nailed her windows shut?
I’m itching to check on her, so I decide to broach the subject myself.
“Well? Where was she?”
Cecil’s face screws up, and a few choice words form on his lips. Carding his fingers through his hair, he averts his gaze from me. Then,
“I have to start from the beginning.”
My eyes narrow, but I incline my head toward him in invitation.
“When we left Dad, I found whatever jobs I could to support us. It was difficult, because we were always moving around. I would clean people’s toilets, shovel snow, pick pockets. Anything to get us by. I was even selling—”
Cecil frowns, shakes his head, then continues.
“When I was eighteen, I met a man downtown. I was standing outside this private club for wealthy guys, and asked him if he knew anyone that needed a day laborer. He offered me a job on the spot and I took it without asking questions. He warned me that the work was… challenging, but I was desperate. I need you to know that everything I did, I did to take care of you. Everything.”
Two lines crease between my brows and I bring a finger to my lips, gnawing at the nail. There’s not a single time in my life I remember my brother looking so… nervous.
Eyes downcast, he continues.
“In the beginning, I was pretty much an assistant. Any odd job they had, I would do. Over time, I was introduced to more men that were a part of this club, but no one ever told me what it was.”
Like cogs in a machine, my thoughts fall into place and set in motion. The secrecy, the late hours, coming home bruised and battered…
“After a couple years, they said I had proved myself. I had no idea what they meant.” His throat bobs on a swallow. “They had me stay late one night, asked me to join them for their ‘service.’ It didn’t take me long to figure out who they were.”
A tremble has begun in his hands, his signs growing sloppy.
The shadows beneath his eyes and the slouch of his posture make my brother look so unbelievably defeated that I have a hard time looking at him.
All my life, he has carried himself as an untouchable force.
But right now… he’s nothing but a weary young man.
“I was terrified, thinking I had put you in jeopardy. That night, I didn’t come home. Do you remember? I thought one of them might follow me and find out about you. I slept in my truck out on a country road.
But that next morning, I started to wonder if maybe— I mean, if I were careful—”
He takes a moment to scrub his hands down his face.
Then, he finally meets my eyes.
“Better the devil you know.”
All the blood rushes from my face, my fingers tingling and my breath shallowing. My fidgeting has ceased, and I am utterly still as I stare at this man that I don’t know at all.
“You didn’t,” I insist, shaking my head back and forth. As if I can will the truth away.
Cecil’s eyes have turned pleading.
“I know everything: their names, where they live, what they do, who they’re looking for. If I hadn’t joined them…” His cheek puckers as he gnaws on it. “It was only a matter of time before they found you.”
Tears of outrage flood my vision, and I push up from the island. Whipping my head over my shoulder, I peer down the hallway. No. No. I point an accusatory finger at my brother.
“What did you do to her?”
Cecil’s face falls. “I saved her life.”
Turning away from him, I place my hands at the top of my head and squeeze my eyes shut. All these years wondering, and it was worse than I could have ever imagined. A selfish part of me wishes I never had to find out.
A few deep breaths later, my tears dry up. Panic and fear bleed into anger and betrayal. Facing Cecil once more, I plop back into the chair.
“Tell me everything.”