Chapter One
Clove
I’m sitting here nursing my three-month-old daughter. My eyes drift over her light brown hair, then to her face, where bright blue eyes stare into mine. The connection I have with her is indescribable. It’s a miracle she’s even here. I have been counting the days since she was born in my head; that’s the only way I know how old she is.
She closes her eyes, drifting sound asleep. Her small lips gradually stop their sucking, clinging still to my breast. She’s perfect. This precious little girl is the only thing keeping me from losing what’s left of my mind.
Every day I recall more of the time I have spent in this makeshift room, which resembles my own bedroom back home down to every last damn detail. Trent and my bitch of a mother have kept me locked away in this room for God knows how long. If she was born full term, I have been here for a year. A whole damn year.
I do remember saying I was living in hell the day I first found out Trent was my husband Turner’s identical twin brother. A part of me still is, and always will. My angel is the one person who has kept me from succeeding this time in killing myself and escaping this nightmare.
I named her ‘Journey’. Her name speaks for itself. It’s been a journey for her to get here, a long road. I wish I could remember more of my pregnancy, like the way I felt when she first moved inside of me. Most mothers would not want to relive morning sickness, but I do. I wish more than anything to remember all of it.
Instead, my brain is clouded with memories of Trent coming into this room with food. Me asking a million questions, none of them getting answers. Will they ever be answered? Will I ever get the hell out of here, and back to my father and brother Zack?
A hollow pit of nothingness stagnates in my chest when I think of what they must be going through, not knowing if I am dead or alive. I hope and pray that at least they found Turner and gave him the proper burial he deserved.
Journey stirs at this precise moment, unclasping from my breast, stretching and yawning. She’s perfect. Her tiny features are a mixture of both Turner’s and mine. At least I keep telling myself she is his daughter. She has to be. I won’t love my daughter any less if she isn’t, though.
Trent denies he’s her father; he says it’s impossible because he had a vasectomy a year before he kidnapped Turner and faked his identity. I’m clinging onto that with every ounce of life I have left in me, even though he’s lied about everything else since the day he got off that plane.
He’s confessed his undying love for me time and time again, swearing he was going to make sure Turner got out of the hellhole where he was held hostage, beaten, then shot to death. And all because of simple greed.
Somehow I know my mother is behind this whole fucked up, twisted shit. How she found out about the twenty million dollar inheritance Turner was supposed to receive is beyond me. She thinks she can break me, tear me down piece by piece by keeping me isolated, away from the real world. She underestimates me.
She may not love my brother and me, the selfish, bitter, conniving bitch, but she underestimates the power of love I have for Journey. One way or another I am going to find a way to get us out of here, and when I do, that will be the day she can say she regrets the day I was born.
As for Trent, he may think he has out-maneuvered me in this game of life and death. I am locked away, kept as a prisoner in this mockery of my real life. My husband is dead, murdered at the hands of his traitorous brother. But you know what? You’ve taught me well, Trent Calloway. This time I will be the last one standing.
Positioning my baby girl on my shoulder, I rock back and forth in the chair, singing to her, praising her, telling her how much I love her. I keep all of my thoughts curbed in my head and a peaceful expression on my face. Tina, my so-called mother, has video cameras in every corner of this room and bathroom. She’s fucking crazy.
Journey is fast asleep again. I inhale her intoxicating scent before I lay her down on the bed and curl up beside her, watching her tiny chest rise and fall as she slumbers peacefully. Fatigue hits me and I struggle to keep my eyes open.
I live in fear of my mother’s threats to take her away from me if I don’t listen and do exactly what she tells me to do. What does she think she is gaining by keeping me here? She and Trent will never get their hands on that money; Turner’s dead.
Covering my hand with my mouth to stifle my cries, I let myself give in to the exhaustion, but sleep doesn’t come. The minute I close my eyes, memories of waking up after I tried to take my own life hit me like the last breath of air I was hoping to take that day.
“Hello, Clove.”
My head turns toward the shadowy voice. Dazzling light stings as I flutter my heavy-lidded eyes open. Pain rips through my chest. My arms, I can’t move them. Becoming more alert, my gaze travels around the room. White, everything is white.
“Where am I?” My parched mouth cracks.
“Not dead,” my mysterious man declares.
“Trent.”
My heart rate escalates and machines beep loudly in the room.
“You didn’t succeed, babe.”
No! I shake my head back and forth, thinking this has to be the last bit of suffering the devil himself is inflicting on me before he casts me into his chamber of hell for eternity.
“Don’t look so shocked to see me, sweetheart. You’re alive. You failed. Not by much, but you did. And now, well as you can see, I will have you forever. Only, not the way I had hoped.”
His fingers lightly brush across my cheek.
“You see, I really was eager to run away with you. I love you, and you trying to kill yourself ruined it all. And now . . . well, let’s just say I won’t ever be able to fuck you again like I want to.”
What is he saying? The last thing I remember is stabbing myself with the only thing I could get my hands on, a stupid coat hanger. Tears slowly form in my eyes. My head is filled with confused chaos as my world continues to go dark and foggy. I drift in and out of consciousness, for how long, I don’t know.
Voices I recognize subconsciously rise above everything else. My mother, why is she here? Although she doesn’t sound sad, depressed, or worried, even, that her daughter is lying here after trying to kill herself. Or that her son-in-law is dead.
I lay still, feeling the warmth of fluid streaming its way through my veins. I fight it for as long as I can before it takes me back under. When I wake again, my eyes open to only the light from the open doorway filtering in. Lying here waiting for the haze in my head to disappear, I realize that somehow the hell I went through with Trent before is nothing compared to what he has in store for me now. I have no life at all. He has me trapped, restrained in this bed with my hands strapped down and he’s in cahoots with my fucking mother.
“You’re awake,” she drawls.
“Fuck off.”
I glare at her from across the room. Standing, she strides with confidence to the side of the bed, flicking on the light on the bedside table.
“Actually, I just did. That man Trent is one hell of a good fuck. You would know all about how good he is though, wouldn’t you?”
I ignore her not-so-subtle insinuation.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
She laughs brittlely.
“You always were such a self-centered little girl. Everything had to revolve around you. The minute the doctor told me I had a daughter, my body cringed.” Her shoulders scrunch, and she makes a face of disgust. “I would have left you and your father and brother right there at the hospital if your dumbass father would have left my side. God, the sight of that man made my skin crawl.”
I say nothing, staring at her in bewilderment as she spews hateful words about my family to me. If I wasn’t tied down to this bed like a criminal I would take all of her wicked words and shove them down her throat with a pitchfork full of horse shit.
I don’t want to hear any more of her bad-mouthing my family. She may think she scares me, but she doesn’t. I’m dead inside anyway. Turner is gone and my failed attempt to join him forever obviously failed, so any torture or abuse she wants to inflict on me, I welcome.
“What are you going to do with me?”
“I’m going to make you suffer.”
Her long painted fingernail lifts my chin, forcing me to look at her.
“I had to fuck that nasty scum James Calloway because of you. He was the worst. I can still smell his stench whenever I think about him. But Trent, he’s the one I really wanted. God, and once I had him, my plans shifted.” She grips me even tighter. “Remember the day I came to visit you a few years ago? When your handsome husband all but threw me out of your house, I did some digging around about the presumptuous bastard and found out exactly how wealthy his mother is. It doesn’t take a genius these days to get information on people. I hired a private investigator to find out exactly how much your husband and his family were actually worth, and to my pleasant surprise, that’s when I found out he wasn’t an only child. Can you imagine the joy I felt when I found out he had an identical twin and that Turner was about to inherit twenty million dollars?”
The elation in her voice is pitched so high it’s like hearing fingernails scratching down a chalkboard, making my skin crawl. Shivers run down my spine. Jesus Christ, she is fucked up.
“So.” She releases my chin, moving to stand at the edge of my bed, tapping her nails on the railing. “I left Caleb. He was a boring fuck, anyway.”
She makes a sweeping motion with her hand, as if leaving her husband was no big deal. I cannot believe this woman standing in front of me is my mother. My God, I am so glad I am nothing like her. She even smells like venom, like the evil, slimy, deadly snake she is.
“I left him and tracked down James and Trent. They were a little harder to find, but with the right words and a hell of a lot of sucking my private investigator’s tiny dick, I found them. James, of course, knew about the family’s wealth, but knew nothing of the inheritance until I told him. It took a little more convincing on Trent’s part, though.”
She begins pacing back and forth in front of the bed.
“He was shocked to find out about his brother. He wanted to find him right away. He didn’t care at all about the money. It’s funny how men can be convinced over time when they have willing pussy staring them in the face, though. Men are all sex-deranged animals. They think with their little head and not the big one. You wouldn’t know anything about that, though, would you, baby girl? Being that the brother you married had more of a pussy than a dick? Good thing you’ve only had one. Oh wait, that’s not true anymore, is it?”
A nasty trill of laughter spills from her lips. Tears lurk in my eyes waiting to fall, but they don’t. Whether it’s the drugs invading my body through the IV strapped to my arm, or the mental and emotional exhaustion weighing down on me, I’m overwhelmed to the point of non-responsiveness. Every emotion possible mixes in with whatever substance is slipping through my veins.
“It was a brilliantly mastered plan. And then . . . he saw you.”
Her well-manicured hand swipes across her forehead, smoothing back hair that is not out of place in her high, slicked-back ponytail. Her gaze burns with wrath, shooting angry, seething daggers my way.
“It took a lot of convincing for me to get him to agree to this. Hell, I even had to get the man to have a vasectomy to make sure he didn’t knock you up in the process.”
“Somehow, you put a spell on Trent. He’s become obsessed with you. I don’t particularly care for people getting in my way of what’s mine, Clove.”
This is too much for my head to take.
“Get the hell out of here!”
The tangy taste of blood is on my tongue. My mouth is so dry that my lips are cracked and bleeding.
“Not yet. You can fall back into the land of the dead as soon as I’m done. Now where was I, before you so rudely interrupted me? Maybe I should have stuck around and raised you after all. You have no manners whatsoever.”
“Who gives a shit where you were? You have me drugged up like a zombie, and you can have Trent for all I care! You two were made for each other.”
“Don’t be so ungrateful, my dear. You’re only alive because I want you to be. Actually, no . . . it’s a little more than that. It’s because I need you to be. You see, you have something I want. It’s a necessity now, so unfortunately for me, I have to keep you alive. For how long after I get what I need from you . . . well, that depends on a lot of things.”
What could I possibly have that she wants? I have nothing; she has taken it all away from me. I hate her. She didn’t get her hands on that money and now she is taking it out on me. I lift my head off of the pillow as best as I can to look her dead in her eyes.
“What a spiteful woman you are. Hurting your own child for money.”
“You were never my child,” she says bitterly. “I may have given birth to you, but trust me on this, I have regretted the day you were born since I first laid eyes on you.”
I turn my head away, welcoming the pull of the drugs taking me under again, but her last words cut through me as smooth as a knife slices through butter, jolting me back awake.
“You may have been worthless, but finally you’re going to be useful for something. That baby you are carrying is going to get me every dime of that money.”
I sit straight up in bed, my eyes immediately snapping over to Journey, who is still sleeping by my side. I remember it all. Every last detail. Her threats when she came in here, the way she talked to my unborn child about how much she was going to love and take care of her.
She wants my daughter.