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“We are a rather…infamous, family though. Some of us more mischievous than others.” He nods toward Sinn with a sly smile on his lips. “I find it very interesting that Peter hasn’t told you anything about his past or…how you play a huge role in both his past and his future.”
“Wait, what?” I scrunch my brows in confusion and stare at Samuel, trying to process what he just said. That can’t be right. He must have me confused with someone else. “What do you mean I play a role in his past and his future? I literally just met himtendays ago, like he said.”
“Are you entirely sure about that, Wendee?” Samuel asks.
“What?! Of course, I’m sure!” But even as I say it, I know it’s a lie. There’s a memory that’s locked up deep inside of me, a memory I’ve suppressed with only the tiniest bits and pieces coming through randomly and chaotically.
Darkness.
Helplessness.
Pain.
Blood.
Brick.Ocean.
Cigarettes.
I rub at my wrists, a familiar tingling sensation burning through them. Sinn’s eyes. I’ve seen his eyes before. I knew it the first night I saw him in this bar but chose to ignore the warning.
“Sinn?” I turn to face the man I feel the safest with and for the first time in his presence I’m not sure I want to be here. Who is he? Does he know me? Has he known me longer than he’s let on? Is he a part of the memory I’ve tried so hard to forget? The one that torments me in my sleep. Is he a danger to me? Did he hurt me and I just can’t remember? Oh God…
“Sinn?” I repeat when he doesn’t acknowledge me. “What’s he talking about?” Sinn’s angry gaze remains locked on his uncle. “Sinn, look at me damn it! What’s he talking about?”
“You caused him a great loss and only your soul can pay the price to get it back.”
“Enough!” Sinn’s voice booms across the bar. He finally levels his cold, rage-filled, stare on me. “Leave us,” he growls.
“But—”
“Now, Wendee!” He yells.
I flinch at his verbal attack. He’s never yelled at me before. I’m seeing a whole new side to Sinn and I’m terrified to admit that maybe this is histrueside. I really don’t know him at all. I scramble out of the booth, but I hear Samuel’s next warning before I’m out of earshot.
“Tick tock, tick tock, Peter. Time is running out for you to tell her the truth and to return to your full self.”
The truth? The truth about what?! Fuck! What kind of horror did I survive that I can’t remember? I know I experienced something unspeakable, something that my mind has locked away in order to protect me. Was it at the hands of Sinn? But why would I be drawn to him if he hurt me? Wouldn’t my body’s natural instinct be to run in the opposite direction? Then again, I’m not normal, am I?
Looking back on all of the times Sinn has looked at me with so much animosity and anger I could never understand why, but now it’s starting to make sense. Heknowsme. And he's been manipulating me from day one. But why? Fuck! Why can’t I remember?!
I hastily wipe at the tears that have free-fallen without my notice as I make my way to the bar. I take the first empty seat I can find and Tink is in front of me. Her face is politely blank but there’s something in her eyes, something between excitement and caution. I know she’s never cared for me, but she’s never been flat out hateful or hostile toward me, and right now I could fucking care less about some petty female drama. I have way too many thoughts and questions flying around in my mind. I can’t even focus on anything.
“Drink,” I mumble. “The strongest drink you have, please.” I continue to wipe my face clean of tears, running my fingers roughly under my eyes, hopefully wiping up any black smudges.
“Here, this should do the trick. It’s exactly what you need,” Tink tells me, as she sets a bright green drink down in front of me. It’s practically glowing.
“What is it?”
“Something I like to call, The Green Fairy. Trust me, you’ll thank me afterward.”
“What is that floating in it?” I ask, as I pick up the glass and examine it.
“Just a little gold dust. Completely harmless, I promise. Now, drink up.”
I stop asking questions. I have too many motherfucking questions and not one fucking answer. “Bottoms up,” I cheers the empty air, tip the glass back and chug.
Maybe I’ll find some answers at the bottom of this glass.
