Chase

A few weeks later

I wake up to the sound of my phone buzzing. At first, it doesn’t even register. All I can do is smile and take a whiff of Syrena’s scent again, relishing in the fact that she’s mine … that she’s still here … and that she isn’t afraid, despite all the things she experienced.

We’ve been growing closer over the past few weeks, and it’s surprising to this day that she’s accepted all my darkness so easily. When I asked her if she still wanted me, she didn’t lie. When I asked her if she hated that I was a killer, she didn’t say yes. And when I told her I couldn’t stop doing what I do best … she didn’t deny me my needs.

She’s so strong. I admire her. And I feel so goddamn lucky to wake up next to her … and that she hasn’t run away. She’s so goddamn perfect, it almost hurts.

With hazy eyes and a rumbling stomach, I pick my phone up from the cabinet and stare at the number on the screen. Brandon? What does he want?

“Yeah?” I say, picking it up as I get out of bed to yawn.

“Did you see the news? They found the bodies.”

“Hold on, I have to put on something first,” I grumble, stepping out of the room so I don’t wake her.

“Okay,” he replies as I put on some shorts.

“Yeah, I’ve seen it. And?” I say, thinking about the moment I saw it on the news and immediately turned it off. I’ve been keeping Syrena away from the television ever since the news broke out. I don’t want her to relive that stuff. “Anything special?”

“Police aren’t saying much, but I talked to my guy on the inside, and he says they don’t have a clue who could’ve done it. They just think it’s a feud between mafia families or some shit.”

“Fine with me.”

“So you’re not worried at all?”

“They won’t find us. They never do,” I reply.

“Right. Well, I’ve got other news too that I thought you might want to know …”

“What is it? Cut the suspense,” I growl.

“Graham’s gone.”

My eyes widen, and I clasp the phone tighter. “What? How? When?”

“I don’t know. I just got the news from one of my other contacts at the police. They think he’s dead.”

“You’re sure about this?”

“It’s looking like it. There’s blood everywhere in the compound, and all the cages were empty too.”

“What about the others that were there?” I ask. “A woman and a man.”

“The girl’s been found. The guy’s missing.”

I slam my fist on the table but then remember to be quiet. “Fuck,” I hiss. “I wanted to go kill him myself.”

“Should’ve done it when you had the chance.”

“I know, all right!” I bark. “Just tell me if we can find the two. I want to make sure they’re safe at the very least.”

“Okay, well what do you want me to do?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. We have to do whatever we can to find them. I promised Syrena. And we have to make sure Graham’s dead.”

“I’ll ask my connections. Hopefully, we can pinpoint their location. The girl shouldn’t be too hard, but I don’t know about the other one.”

“Right. Also, find out what the fuck happened to Graham. I don’t care how much time it takes or how hard it is to find the information. Just get it. I want that son of a bitch down under the ground before he even attempts to contact me. I don’t want Syrena finding out about him or their connection. Ever.”

“Their connection? What are you talking about?”

Of course, I hadn’t told him yet. I just forgot. “He had her mother too.” I hiss. “And that ain’t even half of it …”

“Holy shit.”

“Yes. So do your fucking best to get a hold of them. All of them.”

“Got it,” Brandon replies.

“Thanks,” I say.

“No problem,” he says, before I hang up the phone.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to put things away in my mind.

That’s when I hear her voice behind me. “Who was that?”

“Oh … just Brandon,” I say, smiling as I turn around.

“You were talking about Graham,” she says.

“Yeah. It’s nothing important.”

“It is,” she says.

Her tenacious voice makes me swallow away the lump in my throat.

“You said something about him having my mother too?”

My face contorts, and my lungs constrict.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

How much did she hear?

Too much.

It’s too late to deny things now. She knows what she heard, and I doubt I can ever spin it in a different light.

She clutches the doorjamb and licks her lips. “Tell me the truth, Chase.”

I nod, taking another deep breath.

I can’t lie to her. Not anymore.

Nothing I do will rinse away all the bad I’ve done. All the evil that’s seeped into my bones.

When I look at her, all I see is that birthmark on her neck … the image replaying in my mind over and over again. That mark is etched into my soul … and hers.

And she doesn’t even know it’s there.

Or what it really means.

I lower my head and rub my lips together. Deep down, I know I have to tell her. If I want her love and trust, then I need to be honest. No matter how badly it’s going to hurt.

“Please …” Her pleading voice is my undoing. “I need to know what happened to my mother. How is she involved in this?”

It’s time. “Did you know you have birthmark on your neck?” I ask.

She immediately touches it. “What does that have to do with this?”

“Everything,” I reply. “Just tell me if you know.”

“I think … A friend told me about it a long time ago, but it never bothers me.”

I sigh, almost unable to say the words out loud.

“What?” she asks, approaching me. “What aren’t you telling me, Chase?”

I can’t even bear to look at her, knowing what I’ve known all along. I chose to hide it from her out of sheer selfishness. But I can’t do it any longer.

She has to know, even if it means she’ll leave me for it.

“It was … the same birthmark your mother had.”

She sucks in a breath and stops moving entirely.

I glance at her, forcing myself to look her in the face as I tell her the truth. “After you and I had sex, I found out it was the same one. I recognized it, so I went to Graham immediately.”

She puts her hand in front of her mouth. “So I do have a mother? She’s alive?” She grabs my arm. “Tell me about her. Tell me everything. How do you know her? And what does Graham have to do with it? Can I … see her?”

I shake my head, licking my lips. “I’m sorry … She’s no longer—”

“No,” she says, tears welling up in her eyes again. “Please tell me it isn’t true.”

“It is.”

“Why? Why are you doing this now?” She vehemently shakes her head, like her heart is already breaking … and so is mine when I look at her.

But I can’t falter now. “Because I need to be honest with you. For once.”

“What happened to her?” she screams.

It shatters what remains of my resolve.

“She … she died because of me.”

* * *

Syrena

“Wha …?” I can’t even get the words out of my mouth.

My throat has completely clamped up, unable to even let out a breath.

“I didn’t know you were hers,” he says, but it doesn’t make any sense in my mind.

What is this? What is happening?

Why does it feel as if my world just shifted on its axis?

“You knew her … and you killed her?” I mutter, the words reverberating in my ears.

My heart feels heavy, and my body so dizzy I almost fall, but he catches me. But feeling his arms around me is like poison to my skin right now, and I push him away.

“Let go of me,” I snap.

I push past him and stumble into the living room naked.

“Let me explain, please,” he says as I stumble toward my room.

“No,” I reply coldly.

I need to put on clothes. Need to have something on me because I don’t want him looking at me like … like he owns me. Like he has a right to see me.

Because he doesn’t.

If what he said is true, he has no right to even touch me.

“Syrena …” He followed me.

So I turn around after putting on a simple dress and yell, “What did you do to her?”

“She …” He sighs. “She was Graham’s captive. Just like you and Ella, except it was years ago.”

I swallow away the lump in my throat at hearing his words because they don’t really register even though they should. It feels so unreal.

“Years ago, he kept her to make babies … to sell. But after a while, it stopped working. Her mind and body couldn’t cope. He lost his shit and sold her.”

I shake my head, not wanting to believe this as the truth. It’s too heinous, too despicable… and he’s talking about … my mother?

“I was the one who bought her.”

In shock, I take a step back. “What?”

“I wanted someone for my own. Someone who would never, ever question what I do. The killings. I needed someone who’d never tell a soul. Someone who I could … someday come to love.”

What is he trying to say?

His footsteps come closer, so I back away again. “But there was a problem that I hadn’t foreseen. When I bought her, she was already pregnant … with you.”

“What?” I mutter, not knowing what to say.

“She carried her secret for months, not allowing anyone to come close, not even me. We didn’t tell a soul. When you were born, she made me promise I would take care of you. But I didn’t know she’d run straight back to him the day after.”

“No.” Clenching my jaw, I shake my head. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“He had her under his thumb, Syrena. Like a puppet. Nothing I did could sway her. Nothing.”

“Don’t …” I bury my face in my hands. “My mother wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t leave me.”

“She did, and I’m sorry,” he says. “When he found out she’d given birth, she wouldn’t tell him where his child was, which is when he—”

“Stop!” I shout, not wanting to hear it.

“You have to know. She loved you.”

“No.” Tears well up in my eyes. What mother would give up her child like that? What mother would run right back into the arms of the man who hurt her? Used her? Betrayed her?

“I … I should’ve kept an eye on her. Should’ve done more, anything, to make her stay.”

“Please,” I mutter. His words undo me. Strip me of all that makes me human and leave a scrambled set of bones scattered on the ground. That’s how broken I feel.

“I was left … with you,” he says. “And when I looked at you, I could see your mother’s eyes reflect back at me. It killed me. So I … I …” He chokes on his own words. “I brought you to the hospital and left you there.”

He sniffs. I can hear him cry, but it’s not registering.

“I never knew Graham would find you again one day. Never imagined you two would ever cross paths.”

“Lies,” I hiss, overcome with fury.

“It’s the truth. I didn’t even know you were hers until I saw that birthmark.”

“That’s why you ran off …”

“Yes. I went straight to Graham to confront him about it. He admitted to you being hers… and his.”

A shock ripples through me.

I hadn’t even considered it up until now.

Graham … my father?

“No.” I shake my head again. “It can’t be true.”

“It’s the only truth I’ve ever kept from you.”

“Why?” I shout.

“Because I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he says.

“But that sadistic fuck can’t be my father! He just can’t!” I feel unsteady, so I grab the table to keep myself from falling over.

“I didn’t want to believe it either, but it’s the truth. He just didn’t care. That’s why he wanted to sell you again.”

My lips part, but nothing comes out. I’m left gasping for breath, trying to understand how this could happen to me. How I could be the product of that … monstrous man. And that even knowing all that, he still chose to sell me.

I want to kill him with my own bare hands.

“Is he still at the compound?” I say through gritted teeth.

“I know what you’re thinking, and don’t go there,” Chase says. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Did you kill him?” I ask.

“I tried … but I failed.” His voice sounds guttural. “But don’t you even think about it, Syrena.”

I am, but I can’t stop thinking about everything else he told me either.

About how my life, even before my imprisonment in a cage, has been one giant lie.

I was always told my mother would come to pick me up some time. I even left the teddy bear at the orphanage, so she’d know I was still waiting for her. I kept going back there, time and time again, asking if someone had come for me.

But she never would.

My mother never cared enough because she didn’t care to stay alive.

And Chase … never cared enough to force her to stay.

My fists clench as I raise my head high.

“I will go there and kill him myself if that makes it easier for you,” he says. “If it will allow you to … forgive me.”

How can I say no to that? Still, I can’t bring myself to give him an answer. Because I don’t want to forgive him.

“I know you’re mad at me for leaving you at a hospital, but what else was I supposed to do? You know who I am, what I’m capable of. I wanted the best for you, and I knew I could never give that to you,” he says.

I take a deep breath to try to focus, but my mind is buzzing with information, overwhelmed with trying to process everything.

“Please, Syrena … you have to believe me,” he adds, his voice soft and drenched in fear.

I shake my head. Nothing he says matters. Nothing can fix what he’s done.

He lied to me, kept this from me, when he knew all this time who I was.

He knew my mother while I never had the chance … and now it’s all gone because of him.

“I’m sorry …” he says, the sound of defeat echoing in his voice. “I understand if you hate me now.”

“I do,” I say. It hurts. Like a bullet grazing my heart. But I can’t feel anything except pain right now … and that pain is worse than anything he could ever do to me.

“Let me out,” I say resolutely.

He doesn’t respond.

It’s the only thing he’s tried to prevent me from doing. His one weakness. Me.

Because that’s what this was all about. Keeping me under lock and key. Forcing me to be with him. But I can’t do it any longer. I can’t stay with the man who caused my life to be a miserable hell.

“Open the door,” I say.

“It is open,” he replies. “I never locked it.”

I take a breath and swallow it down. Did he know this would happen? Did he plan on telling me all this, knowing I’d leave in the end?

I don’t ask. Right now, that knowledge will only make this decision harder.

Instead, I march toward the door. When I smell his cologne, I pause.

“I won’t stop you,” he says.

“Why now?” I ask.

“Because … I trust you,” he says, swallowing. “And I want you to be happy, even if that means being somewhere else. Even if it means you’ll turn me in. It doesn’t matter anymore. Do what you want to do. Be free.”

His words sound fragile, painful even, but I can’t let it get to me.

“Thank you,” I reply, unsure of what to say or even how to feel.

He never even considered letting me out before. But I guess some things are too hard to take, even for him. He knows this final admission broke me.

But I won’t let his trust be in vain. I owe him that much for finally telling me the truth.

He doesn’t block my way as he stands in the hallway. I pass him without saying goodbye.

How could one ever say goodbye after learning all that?

Impossible.

So I strut out the door with my head held high, feeling the overwhelming weight of the outside world on my shoulders, but I relent.