17 Scarlett
“Sometimes the truth doesn't set you free.
Sometimes it chains you to everything you were never supposed to discover.”
I wake up with my head pounding. For several seconds, I have no idea where I am.
Everything is pitch black. The darkness is so complete that I can't even tell if my eyes are open or closed.
Panic immediately starts clawing its way up my throat.
I try to move. My wrists burn. They're tied tightly behind my back.
My ankles are restrained too, secured to the legs of what feels like a wooden chair.
The air is cold and damp. My breathing starts coming faster as fragments of memory begin forcing their way through the fog.
The pool. The barbecue. The guys. Then...
Harper.
Oh God.
Harper.
The memory hits me so hard it nearly steals the air from my lungs. We had gone inside. Harper needed help getting to the bathroom. Then someone grabbed us, and something pressed over my mouth, it had a strange chemical smell. And then—
Hannah.
My stomach twists violently. I remember her walking through the house. I remember the blood. A strangled sob escapes me.
No, no, no, no. They shot her. They actually fucking shot her.
Tears immediately fill my eyes. The image keeps replaying in my head over and over.
Please let her be alive. The room around me suddenly feels too small and too dark.
I feel like I am suffocating. I yank against the restraints.
Nothing. The rope only digs deeper into my skin.
I pull harder, but till nothing. Panic starts turning into desperation.
I have to get out of here. I have to find Harper and I have to get back to Asher.
The thought of him sends a fresh wave of emotion crashing through me.
He has to be losing his mind. They're probably tearing apart half the state looking for us.
The thought should comfort me. Instead, it makes my chest ache, because what if they don't find us in time?
My breathing becomes ragged, but I force myself to stop and think.
Asher would tell me to breathe. Assess. Gather information.
Don't panic. He would tell me that panicking gets people killed.
I squeeze my eyes shut and force myself to inhale slowly.
I take one breath and then another. Gradually my heartbeat begins to slow.
The room remains silent. I pull gently against the ropes again, testing them this time instead of fighting them.
Looking for weakness. Looking for anything, because one thing is certain.
I am not sitting here waiting to find out what they want from me.
As I am sitting there trying to take stock of my surroundings while still trying to loosen my hands free, I hear a faint drip somewhere in the distance and then a floorboard creaking overhead.
My pulse quickens and I yank against the ropes again, harder this time.
The chair scrapes loudly against the floor.
The sound echoes through the darkness. I can hear the footsteps coming toward me and fear slams into me so hard it almost steals my breath.
The footsteps stop just outside the room.
The door opens and light suddenly floods the space.
I hiss and squeeze my eyes shut because after being trapped in darkness, the brightness is almost painful.
The room slowly comes into focus. Old stone walls and a concrete floor, there is one bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
The door opens wider and two men walk in.
They are dressed in black and have masks covering their faces.
"Where's Harper?" I demand, the men exchange glances, but nobody answers.
"WHERE IS SHE?"
The second man steps forward and slaps me across the face hard. I can taste the blood in my mouth. I want to cry out in pain, but I don’t. I hold it in and remember what Asher taught me. Do not show any weaknesses. I spit blood from my mouth out on to him.
"Tough bitch aren’t you" he said and this time he closes his fist and punches me hard. The chair tips backwards and I can’t help but let tears fall down my face.
“Don’t rough her up too much, we want her awake and conscious for everything that is gonna happen.” The other one says as he comes over and lifts the chair up. He leans over and takes his tongue and licks it up the side of my face. I want to vomit.
Then—
Slow clapping fills the room and every hair on my body stands up.
The men immediately step aside and my heart stops, in walks Celeste.
I should have known she was behind all of this.
The evil bitch She walks in looking the picture of fake perfection as usual.
Her long blonde hair perfectly straight, designer heels the exact shade of her emerald green dress.
Her make-up is done to the upmost perfection, God forbid she goes out of the house without it, and she has a smile plastered on fer face that has haunted my nightmares for years.
For a second, I genuinely think I've lost my mind, because walking in behind her is my father, or should I say Thomas.
"Well," she says sweetly. "This is awkward."
The room spins, I don’t know if it’s from the hit I just took or the shock. I always knew he didn’t care for me, but to be behind this. To be working with Celeste on this, I just don’t get it. I stare at both of them, unable to process what I'm seeing. Her smile widens.
"Hi, sister."
The way she says it hits harder than the punch, for a moment, nobody speaks.
I just stare at her and then over at Thomas.
Waiting for one of them to tell me this is some kind of sick joke.
Thomas stands silently near the doorway, hands clasped behind his back like he's attending a business meeting instead of watching me tied to a chair in the middle of a basement.
Something inside me breaks from years of disappointment, years of trying to figure out what I had done wrong, why he hated me, and now here he stands.
"I knew you didn't love me," I whisper. "But this?"
Celeste laughs. "Oh, please. Don't start with the victim act."
I turn my eyes to her. "The victim act?" I repeat.
"You always were dramatic."
I actually laugh and the sound surprises even me. "You had me kidnapped."
Celeste shrugs. "You make it sound so ugly."
I look over at her like she's pathetic, I have come a long way since that night a few weeks ago and I will not let her win. I will not show her that I am scared or weak.
"You've spent your entire life competing with me," I say.
Celeste's eyes narrow. "You think this is about competition?"
"I think you're obsessed." One of the men behind her chuckles.
That was a mistake. Celeste whirls around and shoots him a look so vicious he immediately falls silent.
"You have no idea what's going on," she says.
"Then explain it."
"Oh, don't worry." She steps so close that I can smell her expensive perfume.
"That's exactly why you're here, but if it was up to me, I would just kill you like I originally planned on."
A chill crawls down my spine, she was the one behind the bounty. Was Thomas in on it? Why did they want me dead? Is this all about the company and my inheritance? Thomas is still standing there not saying anything. I look directly at him.
"Tell me she's lying." He looks at me but says nothing.
"Thomas."
Still nothing, he just looks at me with a puzzling look on his face. The silence is deafening.
"You're going to tell her, right?" Celeste asks.
Thomas looks at me for several long seconds, then he sighs.
"I suppose we don't have much choice anymore, she hasn’t or isn’t showing any signs. I don’t know why? "
The room goes silent and my pulse starts hammering. What the hell is he talking about I’m not showing any signs? Signs of what? Thomas takes a step forward.
"You've spent eighteen years believing I was your father. Eighteen years believing your mother’s death was an accident." He takes a step forward and grabs me by my chin to force me to look in his eye.
"But the truth is..."He pauses.
"The truth is your mother was hiding you from your true father. She didn’t want him to know you were his" My heart stops. The room falls completely silent and suddenly nothing makes sense anymore.
"What?" The word barely comes out as a whisper. Thomas releases my chin and takes a step back.
"You heard me." A laugh escapes me. I don’t know what to believe, I know he isn’t my father, but can this be true? Did he kill my mother, and if so why, what did he have to gain by killing her?
For eighteen years I imagined this moment. The moment he would finally explain why he hated me, why I was never enough. I had prepared myself for a thousand answers, but none of them were this.
" I really loved your mother in the beginning. We met in college and I was mesmerized. There was just something that drew me to her. She told me that we got pregnant with you after two weeks of being together. We were together all the time. I didn’t suspect anything, that she had lied to me.
She wanted to get married; we were happy for years. For years I loved her and you. Then one night something happened. She woke up in the middle of the night all freaked out. She ran into your room and was screaming that they took you. I told her that it was just a dream.
She wasn’t the same after that night."
My chest feels tight. Like I can't breathe. Who is my real father and why was my mother so set on hiding me from him? What was she so scared of? From the memory I had of her talking to my grandfather it seemed like she was scared of Thomas hurting me. He has to be lying.
"Then who is he?" I demand. "Who?"
Thomas doesn't answer immediately. His eyes drift toward Celeste and for the first time, she looks uncomfortable. Good. Let her be uncomfortable, because my entire world is being ripped apart.
"You don't understand what you're asking," Thomas says.
"Then explain it!"
My voice echoes off the basement walls.
"Explain why my mother lied to me. Explain why you hated me. Explain why there's a bounty on my head. Explain why Hannah got shot. Explain why Harper was taken."
At Harper's name, something flashes across Celeste's face, more like annoyance. A cold realization settles over me.
"You weren't supposed to take her." Neither of them responds, which is answer enough. Why did they take her, I am more confused and lost than ever and they are not giving me anything that I need.
"Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused?" Celeste snears at me. The words hit me like a slap. All these years, everything they did to me, ignoring me, Celeste bullying me and somehow, I'm still the problem.
"I was a child."
"You were a mistake."
The words leave Celeste's mouth so casually that for a moment I don't think I heard them correctly. Then I see the satisfaction in her eyes. Before I can respond, Thomas cuts in sharply.
"Enough." Thomas turns back to me.
"Your mother made choices."
"No," I snap. "She made sacrifices, and I want to know why."
Something flickers across his face. For the first time since I woke up, he actually looks affected.
"Laura thought she was protecting you."
"From what?"
"From your father and his people."
Every instinct I have tells me I'm finally getting close to the truth.
Close enough to touch it. I want to reach out and strangle Thomas.
He is dragging this out and I don’t understand why.
Is my father part of the Mafia or some shit like that?
What could be so wrong that everyone is so scared of him finding my mother and me.
" Enough of the bullshit Thomas, just tell me who is my father and where the fuck is Harper?"
Nobody answers. I look at Thomas then over to Celeste.
She looks like a kid in a fucking candy store.
I don’t understand what is so bad that she could be getting so much enjoyment out of this.
I swear when I get out of here, I want to use all those moves Asher showed me and beat the shit out of her.
I just need to find a way out. I have been trying to work on getting my hands out of these ties and I think all I have manages to do is rub them raw.
Finally, he speaks.
"When your mother died, she thought the secret would die with her, but the truth is I found out her little secret. I knew that you one day would be worth far more than I ever imagined.”
Thomas laughs bitterly and shakes his head.
"You want to know what happened to your mother?" he says. "Fine. I'll tell you."
"For years, Laura threatened everything I'd built. She was going to leave me. She was going to take you with her. And I couldn't allow that."
"So, you killed her?"
"I made sure nobody would ever believe it was murder. So every day I added a little Foxglove extract into her coffee. It’s very effective, it affects the heart and easily is mistaken for natural causes. I played the grieving husband so easily."
Thomas leans back in his chair, a cruel smile spreading across his face.
"Everyone accepted what they were told. The doctors. The police. Our friends. Even you.”
“You didn't just kill her," she whispers.
Thomas's expression turns cold.
"No. I destroyed an entire family." He looks directly into my eyes.
"Even slower I did the same to your grandfather.
I knew he knew the truth. Damn old man always trying to come around, it was harder with him because he wasn’t there all the time.
I could only give him small doses when he came over, or when I could sneak into his house.”
I’m sick, I want to scream and kick and kill them all.
I have never in my life been violent but how could he just so casually talk about killing two innocent people.
My family, the only real family I ever had.
Then, somewhere above us, a loud crash echoes through the building.
Every head in the room snaps toward the ceiling.
The men reach for their weapons and Thomas goes pale.
For the first time since I woke up tied to this chair...
I smile. I know exactly who that sound belongs to… . Asher found me.