Chapter 9
Avidya
It took me longer than it should have to fall asleep. No matter how tired I was, my mind raced. Raced with a million thoughts and doubts. My thoughts confused me even more, as did the way my body reacted to the man that held my life in his hands.
I had no idea why I was so upset about things. It didn’t matter now, as I looked back. Maybe things were taken out of concept, and that was why my parents never told me anything. Maybe they didn’t tell me, fearing that I’d react the way that I did. Or maybe they didn’t adopt me at all but stole me from my birth parents.
There had to be a number of reasons for everything that had been my life so far.
When Zachariah had held me, I broke down even more. Could it be because I’ve never been that upset before? Could it have been because I have never been held with such care? My mom never showed that much care for me. I knew she loved me, but it still made me question everything I knew.
Zachariah’s form of punishment was . . . . I don’t know. Not what I expected, yet it stirred something deep in me. Yes, I had been spanked as a child by father. Growing up, I had tested his rules constantly, but what child wouldn’t? I didn’t think, even looking back now, that what I did was wrong necessarily. Just wrong in my father’s views.
With the three licks I had gotten, I felt . . . I don’t know how to explain it. Shocked maybe, yet my body wanted more. Okay, maybe it was because I liked him, and I felt content when he touched me. I felt more connected to this man than I did my own parents. That alone should have raised red flags on my entire life.
Growing up, I didn’t feel like I belonged much of anywhere. Mother never hugged me when my father was home. He was always more standoffish when it came to showing how he felt. That would certainly explain why I felt more towards Zachariah. He had held me as I cried, not blinking at the wet mess that was left behind on his shirt.
He told me why he was dishing out the punishment, making sure I understood before doing so. It didn’t hurt, far from it. I knew that Zachariah could hurt me, but he didn’t want to. He only wanted to show me that testing his rules, which were not all laid out yet, would not be broken.
And the way he has spoken to relax me made the butterflies in my stomach grow in swarms. I had never felt anything like it before.
Waking a few hours later, I felt more normal. I took a shower and dressed, finding that a pile of clothes was once again left out on the counter in the bathroom for me. I did wonder where they came from, and why. Why was there always something new for me to wear? There were enough clothes to make due with already here.
Walking into the kitchen, I came to a stop. Zachariah sat, looking over the papers that I had seen there the night – early morning – before everything had happened. Jonas was at the counter, refilling his cup with coffee with a nod my way. I was surprised that Jonas wasn’t shooting my head off as he yelled to me about my unnecessary behavior.
I squinted my eyes at one of the many pictures that covered the table. Glancing between the two men, I decided to just help myself as it didn’t appear that either of them was going to stop me. Father would have stopped me before I even entered the kitchen. Or maybe this was a test, to see what I would do.
“Go ahead,” Jonas spoke up as I paused mid-reach. “Maybe you will be able to put the missing pieces together.”
I reached out fully, not even realizing that I had already begun to do so. I looked at the picture of my father first. He was younger, but it was him. The only difference in his looks was the hair. Over the years, father had lost most of his hair. In the picture, his dark hair was combed perfectly.
Zachariah pushed a few more pictures and papers my way, indicating me to go ahead and look. Along with the pictures, there were documents that looked to be copies of birth certificates and family tree information. There was also a number of typed pages with medical histories and phone numbers.
I pulled out a couple pictures that drew my attention. The first were my parents. Father’s grandparents. And then me. I laid out the pictures, seeing them all right in front of me. Mom’s parents were dead, as far as I knew so they were no pictures of them. I had no idea what they looked like, as my parents didn’t have many pictures of anyone around their house.
There were other people pictured that I had no idea who they were. The woman, who was maybe eighteen, looked a lot like I did, with the same light skin. The woman was as light as me, even in the aged photo. Her blue eyes were staring off into the distance, past the camera. She looked to be in thought about something. The other was a male, about twenty-three years old or so, and had the same dark skin of nearly everyone I knew. He had an angry look as he stared down at the ground.
“Do you know her?” Jonas asked, tapping the woman’s picture with his index finger.
“No,” I answered truthfully. She looked familiar, though.
“Her name is Rachael,” Zachariah explained. “According to documents that are in this pile, she died shortly after giving birth to a child. No documents, no info, on where she was buried, or her child.”
“And him?” I asked, indicating to the man.
“That is your father’s half-brother,” Zachariah said. “Taylor. He went ‘missing’ just over eighteen years ago. There has been no sign of where he is, or if he is even alive.”
“I had an uncle?” I whispered, trying to process everything.
“Do you know of any extended family?” Jonas asked out.
“Just dad’s parents,” I answered. “And not that well. They didn’t really interact with me on the few times I did see them. They pretty much ignored me like I was a piece of dirt.” They certainly made sure to tell me that I was, in fact, like dirt to them.
The two men looked at one another for a moment before Zachariah turned his eyes back to me.
“From what I can put together with just these things here,” he began, motioning across the stuff on the table. “Is that your parents are hiding something, many things. I know from this,” he pulled out a paper, pushing it to me. “That they married like most of us do in the family business. They married because your grandfather needed your father to marry for one reason or another.
“The date is a week before you were born. There is no mention of Rachel anywhere until I looked into your family tree. She’d be your aunt, according to it. But only through marriage to Aaron, who is still alive and won’t give us any answers last I heard. Other than the little bit of info, I have nothing on either of them.”
“What are you leaving out?” I asked, feeling like he didn’t exactly want to tell me what I most likely have already figured out on my own. I let my eyes meet his.
“It’s only a theory,” Zachariah drawled out. “I have no idea if it’s even possible, as it needs more investigation, much more, but I’m thinking that your parents are not your biological parents.”
“You think Rachel and Aaron are . . .” I trailed off, knowing it sounded, and looked like a possibility. Even in my own eyes, it seemed like it. It was the same thing that he had been considering just the day before when he punched the cupboard. There were no pictures of the man in question, so the evidence would be hard to come by after all these years.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “Blood tests could confirm, but I can guarantee that neither of your parents will consent to anything of that sort. Aaron is hiding from a drug deal gone bad, as far as I know. Though he may be closer than any of us think, and it’s likely he is after you, now that he knows, or thinks he knows, who you are.”
“Isn’t it possible that maybe he doesn’t even know where I am, or who I am?” I asked, thinking outside of the box. Father hated when I asked things that he didn’t think were right, but here, surprisingly, I felt like I could.
“That is one of the other possibilities,” Jonas answered around a drink of coffee.
“What are you going to do then?” I asked, my mind racing. Who knew who I was anymore. Maybe I wasn’t even related to anyone that was laid out before me.
“Well, that is where you come in,” Zachariah said, leaning back in his chair. “Since I have you here, and your parents won’t give up looking for you that easily, I’ll let you go back to them.”
“You want me to find out the truth,” I deadpanned. Surprisingly, I wasn’t shocked at that. I had been wondering what the truth was for far too long on many things. Doing this now seemed like a good idea as anything else.
“It would make things easier on my end,” he replied. “I promise that no harm will come to you, whatever you choose.”
“If I don’t . . .” I hinted.
“You will be mine either way,” he stated, hiding a smirk. “I’ll find the information I need one way or another, but you deserve to have the choice. I want to do the right thing here, as I’m not a complete heartless monster.”
I didn’t want to know what would become of me, as I wasn’t sure I’d live much longer. I refused to live like my mother, in a loveless marriage with nothing to live for. That was no way to live for anyone.
“I know you don’t know what I do, or who I am,” Zachariah went on after a few moments. “And that is the main reason I am allowing you to choose. If you knew exactly what I was capable of, I’d run away to marry you right now. Although I may still do just that.
“You deserve to let your parents know you are okay, and that life will go on as they plan, sort of. For now,” he ended. Did he know what my parents were like? Nothing was okay any longer.
“Even with being marked as yours?” I asked, looking at the mark that was now just a slight scar and not all that noticeable unless someone knew what to look for.
“Yes, Avidya,” he spoke. “And no one will dare touch a hair on your head. I have things in motion for that no matter what you decide.”
I knew there would not be another chance. Zachariah wouldn’t hurt me, and he had more than enough chances to do so. I had nothing to lose. I needed to know what was real in my life and what wasn’t. If I didn’t, I would always wonder.
I was strong enough to do this. Not just for him, but for me. After everything, I could have time to plan my own path to get out of what I knew my parents wanted for me. It would be a cold day in Hell for that to ever happen.
“Alright,” I sighed out, looking up at Zachariah through my eyelashes. “How am I going to do this?