Chapter 31 #2
“Wow, has it been that long? You won’t even call me by my name anymore?” She moves her head back and forth with that attitude and giggles. My throat burns.
“I am saying your name…” I deflect.
“Not the one my Bubba calls me. I’m not here to talk to Damien, I’m here to talk to Bubba,” she says with a punch, and crosses her arms again.
My bottom lip quivers, and suddenly I’m twelve years old again.
I know what she wants to hear, but I haven’t called her that since she died.
It didn’t feel right anymore once she was gone.
“Come on, you know I loved that name! I even let you call me that in front of my friends!” she whines.
“Em—”
“Almost, but no dice!” she interrupts me before I can say it again. “I’ll give you the silent treatment until you tell me what I want to hear, you know that!” She juts her chin in the air and stares at the ceiling. That playful curl to her lips still fills out her cheeks, and I can’t help but huff.
“You’re still a brat, I see…” I joke through strained words, but she continues to ignore me.
She knows that the silent treatment always gets me, and it’s actually infuriating.
Even when we were kids, all I ever wanted was her attention.
Her smile made the room light up, and it used to piss me off when she would intentionally hide it.
When she hears what I have to say to her now, though, there’s not a chance in hell I’ll see that smile again…
She’ll be so disappointed in me. “Ducky, there’s something I—”
She squeals and taps her hands on the floor.
“I may still be a brat, but it still works! Eek!” She squeals and smiles so wide that the dimples on her cheeks reveal themselves. The sight is heartbreaking. It’s exactly what I needed to see, and yet, I’ve never felt so empty.
“Dad’s dead, Ducky…” I choke out. Her laughter immediately stops, and suddenly, I’m the worst person in the world.
I’m the enemy now. The smile that was just there falls into a frown, and her sparkling eyes water.
It’s like she’s thinking the exact same thing I did.
She didn’t find him. Wherever it was that my father went, it wasn’t with her.
She looks around the room, and suddenly, all of her innocence fades away.
It’s like everything she’s watched me do over the past sixteen years resurfaces, and when she turns her gaze back to me, it’s almost like she doesn’t even recognize me anymore.
Her eyes aren’t bright any longer. They’re tainted with the same pain I’ve inflicted over the years.
Somehow, even in death, I’ve managed to hurt my sister.
“Was it them?” she asks in an eerie tone that’s now somehow transparent. Her voice sounds like she’s speaking through fabric, and it’s frightening. The color drains from her face, like the truth of her demise is catching up with the time we have together.
I nod my head in response, but it becomes heavy again. My neck cracks as I pick it up, like it’ll shatter if I move it any further. Every ounce of pain is registering all at once, and perhaps that’s the ghosts’ way of telling me that I’m out of time.
“You didn’t stop them?” she questions as a whisper, as if the knowledge that I failed them all is hitting her. Silent sobs wrack my body, and with every jolt, there’s another burn or sting to accompany it. I just want to fall asleep.
My head is then forced upward, and a moaning wail slips from my lips. The pain is excruciating.
“Emma, please… I’m sorry…”
“Damien, you are fucking losing it! Get it together!”
A different voice booms right in front of me, and when I force my eyes again, the only person I see in front of me is Victoria.
Her dark blue eyes bore into mine like she’s trying to figure out a puzzle.
I jerk my head away from her hands, and as it falls to the side, I scour the room in a disoriented panic.
There’s no trace of her. My sister is gone.
She’s dead, once again, and I broke her heart before she disappeared.
Please, come back… I need to make it right…
The look on her face was everything I knew it would be.
It contained every ounce of disgust and disappointment that I knew she would feel for me.
I didn’t deserve to see her. I’m not worthy of her voice.
Just like I’m not worthy of seeing my wife.
I’ve just barely felt her, smelled her, and I’ve heard her, but no matter how far I let myself fall into the delusion, I still don’t see her.
It’s because I don’t deserve to.
A harsh slap explodes on the side of my face, and Victoria directs my attention back to her.
I’m not sure that I’m actually seeing her, though.
It’s almost as if she’s the apparition, and I’m staring right through her.
Perhaps she’s also an illusion. I’ve studied her father enough and have seen her picture enough times.
“Come on, snap out of it, Hartley! You can’t do this yet!”
“Leave me alone…” I groan out. She taps the side of my face with her hand, and then she shakes my head a little.
“You cannot give up, you hear me? We’re both going to get out of here, but I need you to keep it together a little longer.”
“How long have I been here?” I ask, and she hesitates—almost as if she doesn’t want to tell me. Her face softens just enough to be concerning. So, I ask again. “How fucking long?”
“Twenty-two days…” she reveals regrettably. “You can’t think about that right now. I came to warn you. They’re going to test you again tonight.”
“I can’t…”
“You have to,” she insists. “They don’t fucking care how much it hurts, and they don’t care if they’ve literally pushed you to the edge. They will expect you to complete this target, do you understand?” she seethes, and I just shake my head in defeat.
I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to do this. My neck isn’t even strong enough to hold my head for longer than five seconds, and I’m seeing ghosts. Do they really expect me to be able to kill someone?
“Do you want them to kill your wife?” she warns, and I shake my head another time.
My heart painfully beats against my ribs, and I can feel myself trying to come back to life.
The thought of them getting anywhere near Ashia terrifies me.
My father was gone in the blink of an eye, and I heard my mother’s scream from Sette’s post.
I can’t let them touch her.
“Here…” Victoria lets go of my head, letting it fall back painfully before she pulls out a needle.
I shake my head back and forth again, not wanting whatever is in that syringe, but she just shakes her head in return—almost hectically.
“No, no. It’s okay. This will help clear your head.
It won’t help with the pain much, but it’ll at least help you get through tonight.
Alright?” She brings the needle to the inside of my elbow and injects me before I can refuse.
“Where do you all get this shit?” I force my head forward again, and she glances at me before looking back down to the needle.
“My father owns a pharmaceutical company. He gets DeLuca and Saconne whatever they want.”
My mind may be shit right now, but I definitely remember her name being listed as the company’s owner when we did our digging. She thinks her dad owns it?
“You mean you own a pharmaceutical company…”
Her eyes snap back up to mine as she pockets the needle. There’s a flash of shock in her gaze, and her entire face hardens—almost confirming that she really isn’t willingly involved.
“What do you mean? I don’t own it.”
She jerks around as the door creaks open again, and I lock eyes with Saconne as he steps inside. He looks just as menacing as ever. Today, he wears an all-black suit and shoes, like he’s just come back from an expensive Gala. I’d love nothing more than to hang him by his pretentious tie.
“What are you doing in here, Victoria?” he asks teasingly, almost like he expected to find her doing something wrong. Her hand barely twitches at her side, making it clear that his presence affects her negatively.
“Just playing with my toy, Preside.”
“It doesn’t look like you’re having much fun.
” He steps up to her until he’s towering over her form.
There’s a cocky grin that creeps onto his lips, and my spine rattles.
In a flash, his hand darts out and swipes across her face, knocking her to the ground.
When she hits harshly, I clench my fists behind my back and try like hell not to react.
I may not completely trust Victoria, but she’s still a woman, and that type of violence always affects me.
“What were you really doing in here, Victoria? You know you can’t breed with him until his training is complete. ”
Breed? He can’t be fucking serious. She’s never said anything like that, and if that is part of their intentions, then this situation just got even worse.
I think I’m going to be sick.
“I was only smacking him around a little, Preside. I swear it,” Victoria pleads, and DeLuca enters the room with a sharp gasp.
“Alessio! Non la sua faccia! L’ultima cosa di cui abbiamo bisogno è far arrabbiare suo padre prima che l’addestramento di quella feccia sia completato!” She steps in front of Saconne and looks up at him with a red face.
“I don’t care what her father says! The Hartley boy may be her pet, but she is my toy! She’s ours to train! Until she learns her place, she will be treated like everyone else that belongs to the Society!” Saconne argues back.
“We don’t have time for this. We’ll finish this discussion another time,” DeLuca rages and walks over to the wall.
Her hand slaps one of the stones, and the restraints on my wrists release.
The tingling throughout my fingers gets stronger, but then, it starts to fade.
Why have I never noticed that stone was a button before?
“Get dressed, feccia. Cinque will accompany you to eliminate your next targets.” I look down again, and I notice that I’m naked.
Have I been this whole time? I think since my last ‘assignment,’ when they practically ripped the suit off me, I have been.
There’s apparently a lot I didn’t notice before.
She said targets. There’s multiple this time. I grit my teeth as I stand, and I surprise even myself when I catch the suit she throws at me. DeLuca arches a brow as I start to get dressed without argument.
“No fight this time, feccia?”
My jaw cramps as I clench it, but I shake my head anyway. I don’t want to find out what will happen if I refuse. She’s already proven her point with my father, and I can’t risk her killing anyone else dear to me.
“I’m impressed. Killing your father really whipped you into shape, didn’t it?” DeLuca taunts, and I can’t help but cut my eyes at her. As I continue to get dressed, I notice Saccone’s stare at Victoria as she picks herself up.
“It seems it did,” he says ominously, and by that tone alone, I know he suspects something is up.
“Come, feccia. Cinque awaits you in the cab.” Saconne then shoves a bag over my head, and I’m shoved forward.