AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I spin back around to watch as the road we were just on slowly disappears. Wrapping my arms around my belly, I close my eyes and retrace all of the memories I have of my family. Anything.
“Are they going to kill me?” I ask without opening my eyes. I already know what he’s going to say, but I need to ask anyway. Turning to face him one last time, I wait until his eyes connect with mine. “Are you going to kill me?” He doesn’t answer, turning the radio off and continuing to drive us off-road. It must go on forever, because by the time we finally pull up to a long wired gate, my ass is numb. I haven’t moved.
He shuts off the car and we sit and wait.
“Aren’t you going to get out and open my door?” I ask sarcastically, looking out the window beside me. “Or what?” I follow the lines of the tall redwood trees in the distance. “You afraid I’ll run you over.”
“Look at me, Ruby.” I don’t. And I have to fight back the large rock lodged in my throat to stop myself from crying. From exposing every single emotion that has been building inside of me since he took me. “Ruby…” That simple word said by lips that whisper lies. I hate him.
His fingers come to the back of my neck and I jolt as electricity shoots down the base of my spine from the connection. He forces me around until I’m looking directly at him. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” He says the words, but the corner of his lip curls upward.
“No, you’re not…” I say, sneering. “You like this.”
His brows raise up slightly and his smirk only deepens. “You’re right.” He forces my head away, reaching for the handle and shoving it open. “I do like it.”
I fall from the SUV and land on the dirt, where stones cut into the palms of my hands and blood fills my mouth.
I cough, sucking in deep breaths and rolling to my back. My chest tightens and I look up at the sky from blurry eyes. The sun doesn’t bother to hide behind a cloud. It beams down on me, laughing, like I got myself into whatever this situation is. A shadow clouds my face and everything goes black.
My wrists prickle with pain, and I slowly try to twist them around as spasms zap through my head.
Wicked. Pushing me out of the car. Stealing me.Oh my God.
My eyes pop open and I shoot to my feet. It’s cold. So cold that goose bumps litter my exposed legs. There’s a perfectly manicured bush in front of me, and I turn around to see an identical one opposite. Left and right, I’m boxed in by a cube of dense but flawlessly manicured hedges. Dirt mushes betweenmy toes as I make my way to the other end, swiping the blood from the side of my face. I walk around the corner, to where it continues around like a maze. Running to the end, I hit another corner and spin back around to see where I came from. The sun that was rising this morning behind Wicked is now setting in the sky, and the pain around my wrists and head intensifies the farther I walk.
Falling down to the ground, I wrap my arms around my legs, forcing them to my chest and resting my cheek on my knees. Why? Why is this happening, and what did I do to him for him to do this?
Closing my eyes, I rock silently back and forward, counting down from one hundred.
Ninety-nine
Ninety-eight
Ninety-seven
My eyes pop open when I hear a crack from somewhere deep in the maze. Shooting to my feet, I run through the way I came, passing hedge after hedge. I keep running, following an unknown path as my chest burns and my eyes sting with tears. My mind spins around and the hedges that were stationary start merging together to form colors around me. Warped together like a haze of smoke, I trip backward and lose my footing, everything going black.
Isit on the bench seat at the front of the chapel, my knee jiggling and the familiar mask clasped in my hand. The half human bone mask is littered with markings, and I trace the indentation of carvings over the years. Line after line cut into it. I lose count toward the end. One. Two. Three. Four.Strike. And repeat.
“Hangman…” His voice is like a thread of warning. I knew that one day, I’d drive my knife through his skull. It was just a matter of time and safety. I couldn’t do it with so much to fucking lose all the time. Poppy was always my biggest concern, but now with Ruby? Fuck if I know what I’m doing.
My knee stops, and I keep my eyes locked on the Virgin Mary statue that stands at the altar of the chapel. Her hands are closed around rosary beads before they trail down to an upside-down cross. Blood spills from her eyes, and part of her body is covered in a black cloak. This isn’t about religion, it’s about power.
“She’s not reacting well, as expected.” He takes a seat beside me on the bench and I have to fight with myself to not kill him right now. Finally, my eyes trail up to his face, to where his suit ends and the rough edges of his jaw begin.
“Mmmhmm.” I roll my lips behind my teeth to stop from doing something animalistic like biting his fucking face off.
Shit. I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into me. I’ve known him all of my life, Poppy’s life. He’s done all kinds of shit to both of us—more than both of us, to many people and kids—and not once had I ever felt this kind of rage. I can feel the violence in my bones humming against every logical thought process inside my head. Like I can almost feel the sharp talons of time scraping down the side of my skull.
“You got what you wanted.” Slowly, I turn my body toward him. “Now where’s Poppy?”
He doesn’t answer, his eyes remaining focused on Mother Mary. His shoulders are squared back, his control unwavering.
“Do you remember when you were a little boy and you tried to run away?”
I bite back a growl, because for once in my life his restraint—his controlled candor—fucking irks me. “How could I forget? That was pretty much when you made me your favorite toy.”
He doesn’t smile, but his cheek twitches and a slight cackle escapes his mouth. “Ha. That’s probably being a little too optimistic, young one.” It wasn’t. I remember every single day I spent with him like it was imprinted into my brain. Someone once told me that the older you got, the less you remembered as a child. It was the reason why we couldn’t remember some memories. It’s a lie. I remember fucking everything.
