29. Enslee
I’d spent the day watching most of my recent podcasts when something occurred to me. The reason I didn't recognize the woman I saw now was because she’d been so different. And the more I stared at myself in video after video, I realized it was for the better and for the worse.
On the outside, I’d appeared relatively happy.
I’d been focused, determined, and driven, but my eyes were empty.
There’d been nothing in my life but my work.
And really, it wasn't even work. It was more of a passion, yet it didn’t fulfill me.
It wasn't like when I looked in the mirror now, and I saw love, hope, and the actual promise of some sort of fucking happiness. I saw a kind of joy I’d never known my entire life.
I couldn't go on pretending as if my memories hadn’t come back.
But once Declan, and especially Brogan, found out, then my life, not only as I once knew it, but as I now knew it, would be over.
Brogan was a suspect in the disappearance of his fiancée, a woman whom many assumed to be dead, including myself, which had been the reason I’d been so excited about the prospect of interviewing him.
He’d never done an interview or had anything to say to reporters that hounded him.
There’d been no polygraph tests, appeals for her return, or anything else.
He refused any sort of interviews, but he'd accepted mine. At the time, I thought it was because he just wanted to get his story out in a way that wouldn't be edited. But once I got to his office, I realized he’d had no idea I was coming. I was never going to be granted that interview, which would’ve been the one thing I could’ve tolerated to excuse his arrogant behavior.
What kind of killer wants to be presented with evidence of their own crimes?
Who wants to talk about it when they're trying to maintain their innocence?
But what kind of man cheated on his fiancée with somebody else?
It didn't matter that Declan was a man. I would’ve felt the exact same way had he been a woman.
Brogan and Declan were deeply in love, which wasn't something they could’ve faked.
Everything with me had been orchestrated, manipulated, and fake, but not the love the two men had for each other. It was real, honest, and raw.
And now something other than anger coursed through me as I started to feel the twinges of jealousy as well, because the honest truth was that I’d fallen in love with both of them and for different reasons.
And in different ways. Now, my own heart was being trampled upon.
Beyond the anger, jealousy, and sadness, there was fear, and it gripped me and wouldn't let go.
It was clawing at my insides, twisting and squeezing.
Once or twice, I even thought I was going to hyperventilate again just thinking about it.
I did end up vomiting three times over the last few hours.
Thankfully Jenni and Edna did not return, so I didn’t have to pretend as if everything was fine.
And I was now awaiting Brogan’s arrival which scared me to death.
I’d searched every bit of the house in search of my keys and cell phone hoping I could escape before that time came.
My search had come up empty, but I knew they had them.
It was likely an insurance policy in case I regained my memory.
There were no landlines in the home and although I could’ve reached out to somebody via my laptop, the truth was that I’d wanted an explanation.
I wanted one of those fucking men to tell me why they did this to me.
I kind of suspected the reasons, but I needed to hear it from their own mouths.
It would take that, at the very least, to make me forget about the way that they’d made me feel…
the way they’d made my body feel alive… the way they’d offered some sort of light when I'd been living in the dark.
“God, this is such a mess, “I said aloud.
I honestly didn't know what was going to happen, but I knew I couldn't pretend that my memories were not back, so by the time I saw a pair of headlights coming up the driveway, I knew it was Brogan. I recognized them because I watched him come and go all the time, and a pang of something would leave me when they’d disappear, only to reignite the flame when I’d see them reappear.
I’d already packed my things up earlier during the day, and all my belongings were back in my van where they belonged. Everything else inside was left exactly as it was before I’d arrived. And now I sat with my weapon at my side.
God, what if I have to use it?
That thought also evoked fear in me. While I carried a weapon around for protection, I’d hoped to never have to use it. Sometimes, I had to stop at shady places where I never knew what might happen, and I’d wanted to be able to protect myself.
Protect myself like I hadn't from other monsters in the past. That was then and this was now. I would protect myself today. As the door opened and Brogan stepped inside, he smiled at me, but it quickly faded when he saw the look on my face.
“Enslee,” he said tentatively.
There was a hesitation in his voice and even in his steps as he approached me.
“Is there something wrong?”
“Why don't you tell me?”
He arched a brow, and I could feel his gaze as it swept over my face. “What are you talking about?”
“Why’d you do what you did to me?”
“What do you mean what I did to you? Are you talking about last night? If so, I thought you wan—”
“I'm not talking about last night. I'm talking about these last couple of weeks.”
“Are you okay? Did you remember something?”
I laughed and didn’t even bother trying to hide the sarcasm etched in it. “Such as why I'm here… what happened to me… what you did to me…”
“Enslee,” he said in warning, and I could see that he was recognizing I wasn’t the same girl he’d known the last couple of weeks.
I knew the truth, and I could see it in his eyes that he now was coming to terms with the fact that I did as well. He took two steps toward me, but I grabbed the gun from beside me and pointed it at him.
“Jesus, put the damn weapon down, Enslee.”
“No,” I replied while forcing my hand not to shake. Unfortunately, I was shaking like a fucking leaf, but I managed to hold and point it at him without my hand wavering enough to give me away. “I want my cell phone and keys.”
“We need to talk about this.”
“There's nothing to talk about,” I responded as I continued to point my weapon at him. “Unless you want to talk about where your fiancée is and what you did to her. Did Declan have something to do with it?”
“No, no, and no,” he replied seemingly to each thing, then added, “We can talk about this.” I shook my head as my hand stayed steady. “Just put the weapon down.”
“No!” I yelled at him. “Where are my keys and my phone? I want to get out of here.”
“And what do you plan to do when you get out of here? Are you going to spill my secrets? Are you going to tell the world what happened in my office that day?”
“I might,” I said.
“If that's the case, I think there's something you might want to see.”
“What?” I asked suspiciously.
It sounded like there was amusement in his voice, although his customary smirk and dashing grin were not present on his face. “I knew this day would come, so we’d taken precautions.”
“Precautions. What are you talking about?”
“Let me show you,” he answered before he pulled out his own cell phone.
I wanted to smack it out of his hand, or maybe even shoot it out of his hand, but I let him pull up whatever it was.
He quickly typed something in, then I heard my voice.
I felt my face pale as my voice echoed in the silence of the room.
Mortification filled my cheeks when I heard myself begging to be fucked.
“What is that?”
He tossed the cell phone over at me, and I picked it up and saw the video footage showing me having sex with both men. They’d recorded it. My blood ran cold, especially at the sound of his voice and the same tone he’d spoken to me in at his office that night.
“If information about me and Declan gets out, your credibility will be completely destroyed. You’ll go from a true crime podcaster to a scorned lover and possible accomplice. The headlines will read that Brogan Sinclair and Declan Fitzgerald dumped you, and now you're trying to make them pay.”
“You… you… you assholes. I fucking hate you both—”
I was silenced when he not only grabbed me by the neck but also knocked the gun out of my hand as he yanked me to my feet.
He lowered his head until his eyes were peering down into mine.
They were so black… so cold. His face was as tight as his grip currently constricting all the airflow from my lungs. I couldn't breathe… I was suffocating…
Is he going to strangle me where I stand?
Is this what he did to Layla that night?
As those thoughts came rushing through my mind, he said seven words that made me shiver. “We did what we had to do.” Then, he let me go and I fell onto the couch, gasping for air. As he started to turn, I fell to the floor, then crawled over to my gun to point it at him once more.
“I want my keys, my cell phone.”
“We can talk about this, Enslee. This doesn't have to be how this ends. We're prepared to pay you for your silence.”
“I don't want your money. I just want to leave.”
“Everyone wants money. If it isn't that, then what is your price?”
“Did you not just hear me? I just want to go.”
“We do care about you, Enslee.”
That made me bark out a laugh laced with sarcasm. “Yes, I can tell after you both kidnapped me, lied to me, seduced and recorded me. And now you suddenly care about me?”
“You were never supposed to be there,” he said in resignation.
“I believe you made that abundantly clear that night.”
“Why did you really come into our lives, Enslee?”
“I’ve already told you that I reached out for an interview, which was granted, by the way.”
“Not by me,” he replied. “Why did this have to happen? Why couldn't you have just left me the hell alone?”
“I’d left my k-keys there,” I stammered.
Brogan raked a large hand through his dark hair as his head hung low. “It's always something. Always some fucking coincidence. I can never catch a fucking break.”
I stared at him because I’d never seen Brogan distraught, but I wouldn't let him, or whatever this act he was doing, sway me. I knew who this man was, and I knew who Declan was too. I should’ve expected that from him because he was an actor, but Brogan… he could star alongside him any day.
“My keys and cell phone, please.”