AllFreeNovel
Share Us
As my mind swirls with the memories of Viggo, I close my eyes and search for the familiar warmth that I would cling onto. The surge of strength I would encounter whenever I would seek out the gray eyes staring back at me, holding me both hostage and yet giving me hope.
Even then, they were filled with devotion.
But only now I see it.
My body joltsas the memories I tried so hard to block assault me.
At night, they would creep up on me, taking me by surprise, and I’d crawl into Jace’s bed. By this point, they were nightmares jammed together like jagged jigsaw pieces that never quite fit. Jace would stroke my hair to calm me, and my racing pulse would settle, then I’d tell myself it was just a dream, the nightmares weren’t real, the basement wasn’t full of monsters, and they didn’t have a little boy in there with terror in his eyes. It was all just a dream.
Until it wasn’t.
When Viggo opened that basement door, it all came rushing back like it was yesterday.
THALIA AGED EIGHT . . .
I hate going down there, it’s dark. Even when it’s light, it feels like I’m drowning in a sea of darkness.
Martin has been drinking again, and when he drinks, he’s mean. He makes me do things to him and other people I don’t want to do. If Jace knew, he’d kick him in the balls. But Martin said if I tell him, we’ll get split up and I won’t ever see him again.
He said the photos they take will make me a model, but I want to draw pictures when I grow up, I don’t want to be a model.
Grabbing the snacks off the counter, I glance toward the clock. Jace won’t be home until later. He has basketball practiceon Fridays, and Martin said he gives the coach extra to train him longer, but I never saw him give coach any money.
My foot wobbles like Jell-O on the top step when I hear them laughing, but when I hear a sniffle, I stop moving. The hairs on my arms stand up, and my tummy does a flip that I don’t like.
Someone is being hurt, and I don’t know whether to call 911 or not, because the men down there aren’t good men, no matter how many times Martin says they are.
“Tia, get your ass down here!” Martin’s voice isn’t right, and I know he’s probably drunk again, but I jog down the stairs before he shouts again and takes my punishment out on Jace when he returns later.
My breath comes out in sharp gasps, and when I see what’s happening, I blink, then blink again. The man pulls away from the boy, then another naked man steps forward.
Then when the boy’s eyes meet mine, I suck in a sharp gasp for air. His terror filled eyes sear through my chest, and a feeling of need clings to my heart, holding on for dear life. Binding us in a darkness only we share, creating a force between us that gives us the strength we both need.
Martin pulls the snacks from my hand and pats me on the head, and like always, my feet move without me thinking, until my ass finds the chair. I pull my legs up and hug them close. My lip trembles and my eyes go blurry, but I refuse to cry, because the boy staring at me needs me to be strong.
Each time his face crumples in pain, I dig my fingernails into the palm of my hands, hating they’re doing this to him. Hating they’re causing such pain to him.
“Say, please, sir.”
I scowl in Viggo’s direction, then wish I hadn’t witnessed what he’s doing to the boy, so I dart my eyes away. “Please, sir.” His voice is broken, like a robot, and I wonder if it’s always been like that or if they caused it.
As the room moves around us, he suffers in silence, apart from the odd whimper that makes me shudder. Each time he whimpers, he clamps his mouth shut, as if trying not to. As if he’s trying to protect me.
In the darkness of this hell, he becomes my light.
Maybe we can drown here in our darkness, together.
Chapter
Twenty-Six
TIA
No sooner than Viggo stomping from the room, allowing my body to sag in relief, does the door open again. The clicking of her heels along with someone else’s shoes scuffing the stone floor has my head lifting from only just burying it in my lap, where I was using my jeans to wipe away the remnants of his evil action.
My eyes roam over the man standing behind Mrs. Lancaster. He carries a briefcase and has a professional appearance, with black pants and a white shirt. His glasses sit on the tip of his nose, and he has a weaselly appearance to his face. I shrink back against the wall when his black demonic eyes land on mine. He’s not a good man, it’s radiating off him like a toxin.
“I want her blood taken for assurance she’s fit and healthy. The proprietors require all their subjects to be screened before they accept them for bids.”
