Chapter 20
Consciousness returned with a throbbing head and a dry mouth. Elena kept her eyes closed until the nausea passed. The familiar smell of musty hay hit her next. Then fear. She knew this place. Finally, she opened her eyes and panic clawed at her.
The punishment cells. There were six of them.
Three on each side of the building with a walkway in between.
They looked just like prison cells except the concrete floor was covered with hay.
The back and sides were cinder block, the front, bars.
They’d always reminded her of the jail cells pictured in old Andy Griffith reruns.
The toilet and sink were on the back wall.
She lay on the cot with the threadbare, thin mattress.
Her wrists burned, and she distracted herself from the terror zipping through her by lifting them to see angry red marks encircling each one.
She pushed herself into a sitting position and the room spun.
She closed her eyes once more and stilled while the moment passed.
Another wave of nausea swept over her, so she continued to wait.
It was probably due to whatever drug had been sprayed in her face.
Ketamine most likely. They kept it on hand for the animals.
A door opened and closed, then footsteps at the end of the hall alerted her to the fact she wasn’t alone anymore.
“Let me out!” A young voice from one of the other cells froze her. “Let me out! I’m sorry! I’ll be good!” It sounded like a teen. About her age when she’d first been punished with this isolation technique.
Her heart squeezed and her breath came quicker. No. She couldn’t have a panic attack. Not now.
“Welcome home, Eleanor.”
The voice from the doorway snapped her head up.
And the panic was gone. In its place burned a deep, simmering rage—at his betrayal and her own stupid, gullible self for not being more suspicious.
Considering her past and her mother’s warnings, she should have been more on guard.
She blinked and hoped the fury wasn’t displayed on her face.
Her father stood there, looking the same as he had a couple of hours ago. She assumed it was hours. “How long have I been in here?”
“Not long.” He sighed and looked away. There was something different in his posture—resignation, perhaps. Or shame. Regret?
“Why?”
He unlocked the door, stepped inside the cell, then shut the door behind him. “I’m sorry about . . .” He gestured vaguely at the cell. “This wasn’t what I wanted.” He rubbed a hand over his head.
“Then let me out.” Elena swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth.
She’d been such a fool. Walking straight into a trap because of a note and misplaced hope.
No wonder her mother told her to stay away and never go back.
But in the forest clearing, her father’s embrace had felt so genuine, so real, to be so . . . not.
He glanced over his shoulder at the door down the hall like he was considering it.
“Dad? If you didn’t want this, then let me out before whoever did want it comes.”
“She told me she wanted out, El, I swear she did. She said she wanted a real life and that we could do that with your help. She tricked me.”
“Who? Iris?”
Tears spilled out of his tired eyes and down his weathered cheeks. He looked much older than his fifty-seven years.
“Where’s Iris, Dad?” Her voice sounded low. Dull. Good, because she wanted to rant and throw a few defensive moves. But she was here now, albeit against her will, and she wasn’t leaving until she got some answers—or the chance to escape. “You said she wanted to see me.”
“She does.” He swiped his palms across his face and then let his gaze fall to the floor. “She’ll come. Soon.” He looked up. “She’s changed, El.” He swallowed. “I had no idea my choices would lead us here. I’m so sorry.” His voice had lowered to a whisper.
“What’s happening here? Who was that woman in the woods?” Why wouldn’t he tell her?
He moved to sit beside her on the cot, the springs creaking under his weight. He had the key in his pocket. She considered going after it, but he obviously had something to say, so she waited. “Things have changed since you left,” he said. “The community . . . it’s not what it was.”
“Tell me.” Elena kept her voice gentle, though the rage bubbled beneath the surface.
“LaVoy came a couple of months ago. Said he could help us prepare better, offered resources, connections. Money . . . and a lot of it.” He rubbed his calloused hands together. “Some of us didn’t trust him, but the council voted him in. Then his city friends came and money changed hands.”
Elena nodded, piecing together what she already suspected. Thanks to LaVoy, the mob had found a remote, self-sufficient community perfect for their needs—people who avoided authorities and valued secrecy, and resources, above all else.
“And Iris? How is she involved?”
Before he could answer, a door opened again, footsteps sounded, and he went quiet. Elena’s breath caught. Standing in the doorway was a woman with her same dark hair and similar features, but harder, sharper somehow. Eyes that matched her own in color but lacked any warmth.
A key jangled in the lock, the door slid open, and Iris stepped into the cell, dressed in tactical black, a pistol holstered at her hip. “Well, look what the wind blew in.”
Their father stood, his shoulders hunched. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”
“Yes, Dad. We have catching up to do.” Iris’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Run along now.”
After he left, Iris paced in front of Elena like a predator. “Fourteen years. You look well. Soft, though. Life’s been good to you.”
Elena’s heart stuttered. She had no doubt who’d orchestrated her imprisonment. “I’ve missed you, Iris. Not a day went by—”
“Save it.” Iris cut her off with a slashing motion. “I don’t need your pretty lies.”
“They’re not lies. I tried to find you—”
“After what? Fourteen years? When it was convenient?” Iris stopped pacing and leaned against the wall. “While you were getting your education, building your perfect new life, I was here. Being punished for your escape.”
Elena’s stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”
“Mom helped you get away, but she couldn’t save us both. She chose you.” Bitterness dripped from every word.
“That’s not true. She asked you about leaving. Asked if you were happy. Asked if you wanted a different life. You told her you didn’t. I know because I overheard the conversation.”
“I was scared! Scared to tell her the truth! Of course I wanted out.”
Elena could only gape. “What?” she whispered.
“I hated it here too.”
“But you never—”
“Because I couldn’t! If I hated it, then Dad would be . . .” She looked away.
“Disappointed in you.”
“Yeah.” The hard look returned. “And while I don’t care now, his approval was everything to me back then. After you and Mom left, they watched me constantly. Suspected I might run too. Extra work, less food, regular ‘discipline’ sessions, more training, nonstop exhaustion.”
“Iris, I’m so sorry. If I’d known—”
“You didn’t want to know!” Iris’s voice rose. “You were free! Living your dream while I suffered for your sins.”
Elena stood slowly, fighting another wave of dizziness. “So all this—the attacks on the ranch, the drones, the bombs—that was you?”
“Yes. With a little help. It was my way for you to disappear without bringing attention to the preppers.” She frowned. “But you found out about it. How?”
“When I came looking for you and Dad. I came across a meeting between Owen and some of the other preppers and the mob.”
“I see. Well, that answers a few questions.”
Elena considered a surprise attack on her sister and making a run for it, but she wasn’t sure that was the best move. Iris was just as skilled as she was in self-defense. Elena honestly wasn’t sure she could beat her in hand-to-hand combat. “Why involve the mob? Why Bellini’s people?”
Iris laughed. “LaVoy came to us with a problem—a little witness they needed to silence. I saw an opportunity. They provided resources, weapons, technology, and money. I provided local knowledge and manpower.”
“You?”
“Yes. I replaced LaRoche. Poor man had an accident that left him paralyzed. He was voted out and I was voted in.”
Elena stared at this woman and realized she had no idea who she was. She was a stranger. Not the teenager from her past, that was for sure. The one she’d had fun with, shared secrets with for the first fourteen years of her life. “So you partnered with criminals to . . . what? Get revenge on me?”
“Not just that, although that was a bonus. But to build something.” Iris’s eyes flashed. “LaVoy recognized my potential when no one else did. He gave me authority, respect. Together, we’re transforming this community into something powerful.”
“The attack on the ranch wasn’t just about Ollie.” As she’d suspected. But she’d never considered her own sister could be behind everything.
“Of course not. I honestly didn’t care if they got her or not.
My goal was you. It was about drawing you out.
I spotted you in town months ago but couldn’t believe it was really you—living so close all this time.
I had Spencer watch you, confirm it was Eleanor Higgins hiding as Elena Thompson.
He even tried to grab you at the fence line when he realized it was you. ”
“I see. So you orchestrated all this chaos just to get to me?”
She scoffed. “No, I wanted the money Bellini was offering. But then I got to thinking that this would be the moment I had been dreaming of for years. To make you suffer what I’ve endured since you left.
I figured I’d use the chaos for that purpose.
” Iris shrugged. “When that failed, I had to get creative. Dad was reluctant, but he still follows orders when properly motivated.”
The betrayal cut deep once more. She shoved it aside. “What happens now?”
“Now?” Iris smiled. “Now you pay for abandoning me. For fourteen years of freedom while I remained caged. The council will decide your punishment tomorrow. I’ve recommended reeducation.”