CHAPTER 03 - Bryan Trevor
Do you feel as down as I do?
Your face, it makes my body ache
It won't leave me alone
Always – Gavin James
I don't know how much time has passed since she ran out.
Minutes?
Hours?
Time seems to have slipped through my fingers, taking with it what little control I had left.
It's like I've stepped into a parallel universe, and I need every ounce of willpower to drag myself out of the stupor her presence plunged me into.
I crouch down, grab the pill bottle, and spin around, my eyes landing on my mother.
“What was she doing here?” I snap, my voice sharper than I intended—the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, like I've taken a blow to the chest and I'm bracing for the next one.
Blood pounds in my ears.
My whole body is on high alert, desperate to move, to act, to just scream.
And with every passing second, the almost uncontrollable urge to tear through this damn city searching for her grows inside me like a curse come to life.
I want to understand what happened to her after I left.
Whether she finished college.
I need to know why she came back to live in this hellhole if she'd finally escaped her sadistic parents.
Did she get married? Have kids?
This is exactly why I didn't want to come back.
Because part of me knew.
Knew that if I looked into her eyes again, everything would come rushing back, and I wouldn't be able to move on without confronting her.
“To bring the medication,” Lilian answers, pointing to my hand, and I stare at the bottle.
I try to rip the thoughts from my head, to choke back the scream threatening to escape, because if I let myself feel right now, I'll do something crazy.
“She comes every night to check on me and helps me with my medication.”
The air inside the trailer grows thick, and even in this tiny space, I start pacing back and forth, trying to calm the hurricane inside me.
Noah comes here. She helps my mother. She keeps coming to this godforsaken place.
I don't know what to do with this information!
“Why are you still here?!” I burst out, unable to hold back. “Why are you living like this when Luke and I send you money every month?”
“I don't want your money!” she retorts, though her voice is barely a whisper—she's that weak.
“Why, Mom? Are you so disgusted by me that you'd rather die in misery than accept what I'm offering?”
“Bryan…” she tries, but I don't let her.
“The money is Luke's too, and he never did anything to you!!” I defend him, knowing that even if he doesn't show it, he feels our mother's abandonment.
Especially since he's the only one who suffered from losing our father.
That bastard who not only hurt him physically but screwed with my brother's head.
“He turned his back on me, left me alone to deal with all the shit you did!”
She tries to sit up, and this time I don't move to help her. I stand there with my arms crossed, watching her take almost a minute to manage it.
Lilian points again at the bottle and the cup in the grimy sink in the corner, and I understand, even though the request never leaves her lips. I walk over to her, and when I open the mini-fridge beside it, hatred consumes me—the only thing inside is a plastic bottle with some leftover water.
I pour the water into the cup, open the pill bottle and take out one tablet, handing both to her. I wait for her to take it, and this time, even without her permission, I help her lie back down.
She doesn't protest, and from her ragged breathing, I know it's from exhaustion.
“He gave you a choice. We gave you the damn choice to leave with us,” I continue, stepping back.
“For what?” she laughs, but the sound is dry and bitter. “To become a fugitive like you two?”
“Mom, we have normal lives. We own our own company, and neither of us has anything on our criminal record.”
“And at what cost do you have that life? Noah's suffering?” I feel an invisible punch to the gut, and my whole body goes rigid. “What kind of man have you become?”
“What does Noah have to do with this?” I growl, feeling my chest tighten again.
“I left her alone like she asked. I pretended her father didn't try to have me killed so there wouldn't be consequences for her,” I shout, my voice scraping raw, tearing out of me from somewhere deep inside.
“I wasted away while she went off to live her damn life without me, for fuck's sake!”
“And you thought that alone would fix everything?” She coughs, and the air around me starts to suffocate me, so I rip off my coat and throw it aside.
“I did what she asked, damn it!!” The pain burns inside me. “Even though every single day for the past years I've wanted to burn that castle to the ground with her parents inside, I held back so I wouldn't hurt her!”
“You’re an idiot!!” She hurls a pillow in my direction, but it doesn’t even come close to hitting me. “Did you see the state of that girl? Did you see what they did to her? What they still do to her every day?”
Her words pierce through me and turn everything inside out!
“What... what do you mean by that?” I ask, but my voice comes out barely above a whisper, and for the first time in years, I’m afraid of the answer.
“They haven’t let her leave that house since the day you disappeared,” my mother says, her voice breaking, and I shake my head. “Everyone in town says she was unstable, and the only time she was gone was because her bastard father had her committed to a psychiatric clinic.”
“No!!” I shout, stumbling back until my back hits a cabinet. “I talked to Noah when I got to Las Vegas.” I shake my head. “She called me a murderer, Mom! She said she couldn’t stand the idea of seeing me because I reminded her of everything.”
My stomach churns, and her words fall on me like acid.
“I’m sure it wasn’t her, Bryan.” Her voice breaks, and for an instant, my brain short-circuits. “She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t say a word anymore.” Tears stream down her face. “She’s only alive on the outside, but Noah died inside when you disappeared.”
My hands tremble. I close my eyes and try to hold onto something to keep from falling.
I have the messages, but I don’t have her voice.
God, how stupid was I to believe a text message?
“You’re lying,” I spit out, and she shakes her head.
“Look at me.” She stares at me with a pained intensity. “Do you think I would lie about something like this? Why?”
To hurt you?
I swallow hard, needing to get out of here.
Needing to find her.
This can’t be true.
She said she was fine.
She said she was much better off without me.
“They use her, Bryan,” she continues, her voice growing weaker. “They use her sister as a chain.”
“Sister?” I shake my head, trying to make sure I heard right.
“Shortly after everything happened, it came out that Sarah was pregnant.” I stare at her in disbelief when she mentions Noah’s mother. “They use the little girl to keep her trapped in that fortress from hell.”
The floor disappears with her last words.
My body is present, but my mind is already far away.
In that damned house.
In the high, dark walls.
In how much it really does look like a prison shaped like a castle.
I turn and force my legs to move while my mother shouts behind me, asking where I’m going.
I don’t answer. I can’t form a single word.
I shove the door open and the dawn air hits me like a fist as the rain I didn’t even notice had started wraps around me. The cold freezes my bones, but nothing can freeze what burns inside me as I get in the car.
Rage.
Dense, corrosive, devouring every cell in my body.
Guilt.
So heavy it seems to fracture my ribs every time I breathe in.
Shame.
A bitter taste on my tongue mixing with the memories I tried to bury.
And the pain... the pain is a nameless beast, roaring inside me, tearing everything apart as I start to consider what might have happened in my absence.
She stayed, endured, and lied to protect me, and that realization tears a desperate roar from the depths of my throat.
My head throbs and my knuckles turn white from gripping so hard, seconds before I start punching the steering wheel, trying to squeeze the hatred out of my body before it takes me back to that mansion, before I take justice into my own hands again and drag every one of them into the same hell they created for her.
“WHY?” I scream, punching again, and again, and again.
The leather cracks under my fists and cuts open my skin, but I don’t stop.
I want to feel the pain.
I need the physical pain to compete with what’s devastating me inside.
The dashboard shakes. The gasping turns to sobbing, and I sink my forehead into the steering wheel when I can’t punch anymore. My breathing comes in ragged bursts and my shoulders shake violently as I try to control the sobs before they suffocate me.
I want to tear through time and go back to save her before they broke her.
I want to crush every smiling face of that hypocritical family until nothing remains but dust.
I want to strangle myself for the shame of believing a typed message.
The tears flow hot and merciless, blurring my vision and mixing with the metallic taste of blood from my bitten lips.
“She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t say a word... She’s only alive on the outside, but Noah died inside when you disappeared.”
The words echo in my mind as I lean back from the steering wheel, shift into gear, and start the vehicle.
Fuck the consequences. Fuck her parents. Fuck what might happen if someone sees me—because this time, I'm ready to send anyone who tries to stop me straight to hell.
I need to see her again!
I need to know that Lilian is lying.
It isn't long before the old stone castle looms ahead, as imposing, macabre, and silently oppressive as ever.
I park the truck on the side of the property, where the tall brush keeps it hidden. Stepping out, I notice the rain has stopped. The tree beside Noah's bedroom window is still there—and I'm certain it's only standing because that bastard believes he succeeded in ending my life.
How many times did I climb this trunk in silence, heart racing, a stupid grin on my face, just to kiss her before she fell asleep? The difference is that today, there's no smile—let alone any hope of tasting her lips before bed.
The light is on, and something inside me says this is still her room.
I should go back to the aircraft, reach out to my contacts, handle this carefully—but I can't.
I can't go another minute without finding her.
Without seeing with my own eyes what they did to her.
I take a deep breath and start climbing without any trouble. My body still remembers the motions as if I'd never stopped, and even though the branches scrape my skin, I don't stop until I'm beside the window.
I press my face close to the glass, muscles tense, and feel my heart shatter when I find Noah sitting on the floor—back against the bed, legs curled to her chest, face buried between her knees.
Small.
Fragile.
Broken.
So different from the girl who laughed while I told crazy stories.
So far from the girl whose eyes sparkled when I promised to get a job so we could run away together.
And that she would finally become a beautiful butterfly.
A blue butterfly to match our eyes.
I feel my body freeze.
The air burns as I breathe.
And a deep pain settles in my gut.
My God, what did they do to you, butterfly?
I lean on the balcony and keep watching.
For an instant, I'm just the boy in love, watching the girl of his dreams—but reality crashes back when she moves and slowly lifts her face, as if sensing she's being watched.
Her eyes—the same eyes that once lit up at the sight of me—now widen in horror when they find me here.
I see the shock cross her face again.
She blinks several times, perhaps thinking I'm just a mirage, but I'm not.
I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere until she tells me what happened.
I raise my hands, desperate, as she stands.
“Noah. Please, let me in.” I mouth the words, and I know she understands when she shakes her head. “Please, I promise I won't be long,” I plead, and I see her body stiffen.
For a second I think she's going to turn off the lights, leave the room, or even scream, but then she approaches and, slowly, with trembling hands, unlocks the window.
My chest heaves as she pushes the glass open and steps aside, giving me room to enter.
I want to pull her into my arms.
To beg for forgiveness.
To tell her I love her even more than before.
That I spent every damn day of the last few years thinking about her.
That it was always her.
But I can't, because I know it's wrong to dump all of this on her out of nowhere after so many years.
Nothing here can be about me.
This has to be about her!
Her eyes are locked on me, and this close, I notice her irises are even emptier than I realized at the trailer.
Her skin, which was already fair, is now pale.
Her eyes scream exhaustion.
Her lips are cracked, colorless.
Her red hair, once vibrant, has lost its shine.
And her body is so thin I can see her collarbone jutting out.
The only thing that remains the same is her freckles—the same ones I used to love tracing with my fingers.
But even they seem smaller now, diminished by so much visible suffering.
It hurts. It hurts like hell to find her this way!
It hurts to know that while I was building a life, she was falling apart.
I approach slowly, my heart raw, as if there's a wound bleeding inside it. Because nothing can hurt me more than seeing her hurt.
My hands tremble as I caress her face, feeling the cold of her skin beneath my fingers. She closes her eyes at my touch, and it takes everything I have not to pull her into my arms.
Not to beg her to say something!
“Forgive me…” I whisper, feeling her tears burn my skin.
“Forgive me for not coming back sooner, for leaving you alone. I believed you wanted me gone. I convinced myself you’d moved on, that you were happy…
” My voice breaks. “Please, butterfly, tell me what I can do to help you, to make up for the last few years,” I plead softly, and she reopens her eyes, letting me see even deeper into her pain.
Her mouth opens slightly, but no words come out, and I nearly collapse when she bites her lips, unable to speak.
Noah has truly lost her voice!