34. Drystan #2
“Love?” He slams my head forward. I let it hang for a moment, pain throbbing through my skull and shoulder, before he continues pacing around me. “Love—you know nothing about what that is. Love is weakness. Love gets you nowhere. Power, money, connections.”
“I feel sorry for you.” I lift my head and lean back against the steel chair again, the heavy chains grinding.
“That’s why you hated Mom and me. We loved each other.
She loved the hellebores. You never felt love.
Mom told me about your parents, how you were raised by shitty nannies and boarding schools.
You hated that she was happy with so little while you had everything you wanted but were still miserable. ”
His face contorts with rage. He laughs, but I hear the raw anger and pain beneath it. “I never cared about that. Your mother was a piece of shit who would’ve end up poisoning me to have it all—”
“She didn’t care about any of it,” I say calmly.
My voice doesn’t waver. I don’t take my eyes off him, watching the rage boil hotter in his dark gaze.
“She wanted love, pure and simple. She was honest. She was happy. And you fucking hated that. Because you can’t be happy, so you destroy everyone else. ”
“I’m done with this conversation.” He turns to one of the guards. “Hold him.”
I start to struggle, twisting my head, but the heavy chains keep me locked in place, the metal cold and unrelenting against my aching body. Lawrence steps closer, grips my chin hard enough to bruise, and forces my mouth open. I see the black liquid in the vial. He pours it all down my throat.
The liquid burns like fire.
The guard steps back. Lawrence smiles down at me. “Let’s see how you like to taste your own poison.”
My body starts to heat up. Fire spreads through my stomach like acid poured straight into my guts. Sweat beads on my forehead and trickles down my temples. I lean my head down, trying to control my breathing.
Breathe in. One, two, three, four, five. Breathe out.
Repeat.
Again.
“You should’ve died in jail,” Lawrence states as I hear a chair dragged across the floor in front of me. I see his legs. The fucker sits down to enjoy the show. Let him. “I paid them, but those fucking twins were always with you.”
I chuckle weakly. “Why didn’t you do it yourself? You had plenty of opportunities after Mom died.” The words come out shaky. I grind my teeth as fresh pain flares through my stomach.
“After your mother died, it would have been too suspicious for my son to die too.” He chuckles. “Want to know what I did instead?” he asks, sounding proud.
I look up. My head feels heavy, vision blurring at the edges.
He smiles—a genuine smile I have never seen before.
“I paid for everything you needed. I knew you were going to Seattle after the girl. I let you. Paid for college like a perfect father.” He leans forward, the smile still there, eyes glinting.
“And while you were busy with her, I made a company in your name. I stole the coins in your name. Even if you hadn’t agreed to go to jail for me, you were already caught. ” He leans back and laughs.
“So—” I breathe, voice ragged. “You planned it… all.”
He slaps his hands together. “I did! Perfectly, I might add. When you accepted in exchange for that fucking mansion, I hired a man to kill that fucker and make it look like a suicide. Sad letter and all. Blaming you for ending his life by stealing all of his savings.” His eyes lock on mine, and for the first time I actually see my father proud. Proud of ruining my life.
“Fuck…” I grunt as a shadow dances across the wall. My stomach turns violently. I twist my face to the side, gagging, but nothing comes up.
“Once you got to jail there was only one thing left I needed to try—” he says, voice turning dark.
“B-Briar—” I manage.
“Yes. It was petty of me, I know. But the thought of having her before you…” He shakes his head.
“I was hoping she would cry about it to the point you would find out in jail, but she didn’t and the bitch moved to Canada.
I could care less until I found out you were getting released.
” He shakes his head. “And then you killed my man even after he told you to leave her alone.”
My mind spins. I lean my head down, my shoulder still bleeding. The burn has settled deep in my stomach and I taste blood in my mouth. I keep my eyes closed against the dancing shadows.
“She’s—mine.” I grunt. Words are becoming harder to push out.
“Yours? For what?” His voice rises. “When you got yourself to Hellebore I knew you would eventually find out what happened and the truth, so I took her to make you lose your ground. And it worked. You are here now while she is chained, crying for you, not realizing you will never come for her.”
Chained.
Waiting.
She’s alive.
“Mine—” I repeat. Fuck. My ears are ringing, a high-pitched whine that drowns out everything else. Sweat drips down my back, soaking into my shirt and making the chains feel even colder against my skin. My legs twitch uncontrollably, muscles jerking against the heavy manacles.
He laughs loud, almost maniacal. “No, my son. She’s mine. You will die knowing that. Mine to keep until her own body gives up.”
“No…” I mumble. The word feels thick on my tongue. “I get… her.”
“Your brain is dying, Drystan, but before it does I will let you know the poetic side of it.” He stands up and walks closer.
His fingers dig into my chin, forcing my head up.
I meet his eyes—pure evil staring back. “Briar is in your mother’s crypt, right next to her coffin.
Chained. No lights. Nothing. And you want to know what she screamed every time I was there?
Your name.” His grip tightens. “She screamed for you and then she realized you would never come for her.”
My mother’s crypt.
My Briar.
Fuck. My heart slams too fast against my ribs, a wild, frantic drum. I can barely feel my fingers anymore, numb and distant.
“Crypt.” I mumble, low and strained.
“What?” Lawrence leans closer, his clean suit brushing against my bloodied clothes.
“Thank…” I force out. A burning sensation creeps closer to my chest, heavy and suffocating. The room tilts.
“Speak out!” He yells.
“Thank you.” I let out.
He snarls. “For what? For ending your pathetic life?”
He keeps holding my face. I open my heavy eyes and focus on him, the corner of my lip curling up despite the fire spreading through me. “For—” I breathe, the word ragged, “letting me know… where she is.” The whisper scrapes out of me.
He drops his hand from my chin and chuckles. “Why? So your spirit can find her? Or some other pathetic shit?”
I drop my head down and shake it slowly, the motion sending fresh waves of dizziness through me. Sweat stings my eyes. The chains rattle faintly with every shallow breath.
“You are pathetic, son.” He paces in front of me, his shoes scraping against the dirt floor. “This fucking flower is taking too long.”
There’s a thump sound upstairs.
“What the fuck was that?” Lawrence turns to look at the door. “Go check it.” He orders the two guards.
They leave quickly, another sound of something crashing.
Bang.
Lawrence pauses. He doesn’t move, but I can hear his fast breaths.
Bang.
The door flies open and two massive masked men walk in, guns up, pointing directly at Lawrence.
He tries to move but they are faster. One hard hit to the knee and he drops.
“Don’t—” The words scrape out of me. I am out of breath and every syllable hurts. “Kill him.”
One of the guys runs toward me and pulls off his mask. I smirk weakly.
He checks my eyes. “Fuck…” Enzo pulls another vial from his pocket. “For God’s sake, open your mouth.”
I part my lips slowly, my head growing heavier by the second.
“Shit,” he grunts as he pours the liquid in. It still burns like hell, fire racing down my throat.
“What?” I breathe after swallowing, voice raw.
Enzo’s eyes stay fixed on my chest and throat. He doesn’t say a word at first. “Another five minutes…”
He shakes his head. “…don’t ever do that again.”
He turns and grabs the keys to the chains from the table. The moment the heavy manacles fall away, I look at Lawrence and try to stand. My legs buckle instantly. Enzo catches me before I crash to the floor.
“Fucking antidote—” I grunt, pain lancing through every limb.
“Well, if it wasn’t for that first dose you would be dead already.” Enzo holds me steady as I stare at Lawrence. My vision slowly clears, though my heart still hammers like a war drum and my legs and hands remain numb and tingling.
I smile at the panic flooding his eyes. “Wanna know something poetic?” I lean closer, voice low and venomous. “Enzo found the two cameras you left at Hellebore, but we didn’t remove them. We let you see us argue. We let you see me leaving alone.”
His mouth drops open. “No, that’s impossible…”
Now I’m the one smiling. “I knew you would use the hellebore serum on me, but the thing is… this wasn’t hellebore.
It was henbane. Not as deadly. And my friends here have an antidote.
I took enough to stay alive while you bragged about how smart you are.
” I smirk, the taste of blood still thick in my mouth.
“But I was one step ahead this time, Father.” The word drips like poison.
“I’ll take him,” Easton says. I nod as he yanks Lawrence up, pressing a gun to his temple. “I won’t have any issue killing you if you try anything,” he warns.
Enzo helps me up the stairs, slow and careful. My body aches everywhere. Blood drips steadily from my shoulder and side, leaving dark trails on the steps. “We need to close the wounds,” he mutters while helping me into the SUV.
“Give me the first aid kit. I’ll do it while you drive.” I lean my head back against the seat, feeling like I have been hit by a truck—every breath shallow, every muscle screaming.
Two hours to the old garden. Two hours—
Hang on, my love.