Chapter 39 Sloane #2
The sound stops, but I know that it’s too late.
The feelings of warmth and suggestion overwhelm me.
This time, it’s stronger and different. I feel my thoughts dissipate slowly, replaced by the will of the universe and the people who seek to manipulate me.
I want them to. I need them to. I hear Sabel’s voice through the haze.
“Tell me, Sloane, do you seek to destroy Sonus and the Eden Frequency?” She grips the back of my hair and tugs roughly, pulling my head back. She peers down over me and into my eyes. I know that I should feel angry or afraid, but instead, all I feel is the desire to please her.
“Yes, Sabel. I want to bring you all down before you have the chance to manipulate the minds of millions.” My voice is robotic and not my own. I can faintly feel the restraint of my mind trying to pull the words back, but it isn’t enough to stifle them.
Instead of lessening her grip on my hair, she pulls back harder.
“And how do you plan to do that, exactly?!” She seethes.
I find that I don’t want her to be angry, and I yearn to make her feel better.
I want to say things that will soften the stinging tone of her voice, but my mind filters my thoughts and picks the truth out in an effortless pursuit.
“I—I don’t know. I didn’t get that far. I intended to make you confess to my father’s murder and then go from there,” I say.
Her grip loosens and releases me with a push, throwing my head forward.
I wince at the whiplash but recover quickly, wanting so badly to get on my knees and beg for her forgiveness.
She circles me, heels clicking against the ground as she parades around me.
Then, she stops in front of me. I tilt my head up to look at her, giving her a huge, gratifying smile.
“What is the name of the man that you are in love with, Sloane?” she asks, arms crossed beneath her breasts. My smile fades as I tilt my head, confused as to why she’s asking me this again. In my ever-present need to obey, I say his name again.
“Riven Reilly,” I say, a genuine smile taking shape on my face.
As his name moves across my lips, something inside of me shifts.
I can feel the need to bend to Sabel’s will slipping away.
I feel the peace and tranquility exiting my mind slowly.
I keep this to myself, knowing that this may be my only chance of escape.
Escape.
The word fills my mind, reminding me that I’m chained to a chair and that Sabel is not my savior. She’s my captor.
“He will come for me. I know that he will come for me,” I say sweetly, maintaining a mindless doe-eyed expression.
Sabel laughs wickedly. “Oh, sweetie. No one is coming for you.” She looks at me with a pitied expression. I itch to slap it off her face. The coercive state that I was in is wearing off faster now, and I can only hope that Sabel didn’t prepare for it.
“Bring him in,” she yells to no one in particular.
The door behind her opens up. Her eyes are still locked onto mine, but mine track to the man being dragged into the room.
Two guards hold him up under his arms, the tips of his shoes the only things dragging the ground. Shock and fury register in my brain.
“Van?!” I ask, confused. He’s wearing his stage outfit.
The beautiful mask, the black cloak, his bare chest, and a pair of loose-fitting black pants.
His head dangles, and I wonder if he’s also been drugged.
A pang of guilt hits me that I’m partly to blame for this.
If Van hadn’t hidden that I was an outlier, then I can’t imagine we’d be in this predicament right now.
The men holding Van drag him to the center of the room until he’s nearly at my feet, and then drop him.
He falls to his knees and leans back, managing to stay upright.
His beautifully sculpted chest rises and falls in motion with his rapid breathing.
He looks up at me through the mask, shaking his head back and forth.
“I’m sorry, Van. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.
” Tears fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks in quick succession.
Van doesn’t say a word as he continues shaking his head before letting it fall again.
I look up at Sabel, who’s standing to my right.
She’s smiling down at me like she’s already won.
She reaches into the back pocket of her black leather pants and pulls out my cell.
I track it, watching as she uses my face to open it and then taps the screen in search of something.
I want to ask her what she thinks she’s doing, but don’t want to let on that I’m no longer under the influence of the frequency.
She finds what she’s looking for, turning the phone to show me.
It’s Riven’s contact information. I glance from the phone to her, puzzled.
“If you’re so sure that he will come for you, then let’s give him a call,” she says, turning the phone back to her and tapping the screen.
Van’s breathing escalates as his head shoots up to Sabel.
The ringing echoes and fills the room as she switches it to speakerphone, and then my head snaps in the direction of another sound.
There’s a phone ringing in Van’s pocket.
“Why do you have that?” I ask, panicking.
“Why do you have Riven’s phone, Van?” I’m angry, unable to hide the escalating emotions.
Next, I feel the betrayal strike like lightning.
All this time, Van has been using me. Why was I so stupid to not see it before now?
I am reeling with fury and panic, ready to take out anything in my path.
Sabel ends the performative call, laughing.
“Oh, you stupid girl. I thought that you were brighter than that, Sloane. Don’t you see it?
” she asks, waving a hand in Van’s direction.
What is she not saying? I look between the two of them, knowing that they must be working together.
My mind imagines all of the worst possible things that they could have done to Riven, and my heart is breaking at the thought.
Maybe they both killed my father, too. Maybe I’m their next victim.
Is the outlier thing genetic? The photos that Van had would make a whole lot of sense if that were the truth.
Memories of what Van did to me in the forest surface, bringing a whole new set of emotions with them.
“Why?” I look at Van, my eyes searching his mask for answers. “Why would you do this to me?!” I plead, tears streaming down my face once more. My tears come to a screeching halt as my emotions shift back to anger.
“WHERE IS HE?!” I yell to both of them, to the room, to anyone who will listen.
Sabel sighs, playing with her cuticles. “Booooring.”
“Do it. Now,” Sabel says to the guard on Van’s right.
I drag my gaze to the guard, looking for a gun or some other weapon that might be used to end my life.
I assume that she meant “kill her,” as in me.
The guard doesn’t pull out a weapon, though.
Instead, he grabs the back of Van’s mask and pulls it off, revealing his face to me.
The world around me comes to an absolute standstill.
The face before me is not one that I expect to see, and it shatters me into a million little irreparable pieces.