Scorch

by Nikki Rae

  Squeezing his hand, we plunged into the tunnel, the headlights only a pinprick in the dark.

  Once we were on the other side, I was more aware of my surroundings, familiar with the scenery. It wasn’t long after that Master Lyon took the car off the dirt path until we were deep into the forest. I recognized the stacks of firewood, the partially hidden ATVs.

  “Ready?” he asked, stubbing out his cigarette and flicking the butt out the window.

  Unwilling to lie aloud, I nodded.

  Master Lyon held my hand the short distance, strapping me into the ATV and then our bags to the back. As he started the engine, the only thing that gave away how he was truly feeling was how he pinched the bridge of his nose. Then as quickly as he’d done it, he was securing himself in his seat, starting the engine, and we were flying up the mountain.

  I chewed the gum he’d given me, but he only allowed himself the same luxury once we were at a steeper incline and he had no other choice. As soon as the terrain leveled out and we were closer to the cabin, Master Lyon slowed the vehicle for another cigarette, and in the limited light I could see his face as he snapped the case closed.

  “Merde,” he whispered to himself, shoving it back into his pocket.

  This must have been the last one. Once it was gone, there was no going back.

  For a while, the only view was the forest and brush. I knew it wasn’t too far to the cabin, and part of me wanted to make our time in the wilderness stretch when there was no escaping the inevitable.

  I recognized the trail Master Lyon had taken me on the day before I left, unable to see the flowers he’d pointed out to me now. Everything looked different at night, especially with all the lights on inside the cabin as we approached. Wind against my face, I tried to not think about whether they’d been left that way by Marius when he was taken from me—most likely by Zoe—or if my Owner had staged things this way. Neither scenario offered comfort.

  I’d expected there to be more guards outside—at least one or two visible. However, I saw none. Though I knew it was their job to stay well concealed, this felt decidedly different.

  Master Lyon’s hand trembled just a fraction as he brought the cigarette to his lips again.

  “Are you okay?” I forced out the words, the weight in my stomach dropping almost too much to bear.

  He rubbed his temples as he blew out the smoke, and I watched it plume into the air, wisps catching the light before disappearing. It was cloudy, and the humidity clinging to us through the vehicle’s open frame promised a storm. I imagined that if it weren’t obstructed, I would be able to see the constellations in the sky.

  Rolling his shoulders, he put out the rest of the cigarette in the dirt. “I’m fine. Just a headache.”

  Master Lyon visibly frowned as he unbuckled himself, forgetting to turn off the ATV altogether. My Owner heavily lifted himself out of the low seat and had to lean against the hood while he waited for me to join him. I stepped out more or less without incident, careful as I approached.

  “Why don’t we go inside?” I suggested, propping his arm over my shoulder. “We can unload later.”

  He appeared ready to argue, but he still let me walk him to the front door. He raised one hand to punch in the security code, and we both shuffled through the entryway.

  Together, we flopped onto the sofa, where I helped him rest his head against a pillow. As he stared at the ceiling, I could see a mist of sweat along his forehead. Not knowing what else I should do, I held his hand.

  Squeezing his temples, Master Lyon winced as he sat up. “I hardly ever have migraines anymore,” he whispered, swallowing hard. “I have medicine…”

  “Medicine?” I asked, trying to lay him down. He’d only allow a slouch, head against the back of the sofa.

  “In my bag.” His sigh was full of defeat, the mere thought of walking back to the ATV insurmountable. “I’ll get it in a minute.”

  Not too long ago, I’d had a headache that rivaled all others, and I felt awful he was going through something similar. “Let me,” I offered as gently as I could, but he was shaking his head before I’d finished.

  I rested a palm atop his hand, which was still tightly wrapped around the keys in his lap.

  “I’m not leaving you, Elliot,” I whispered. “I just want to help. Let me take care of you.”

  My voice broke with sincerity and it made him open his eyes to stare into my eyes. Defeated, he waved me off and I bolted through the already-open door.

  Once I’d made it to the ATV, I didn’t bother unlatching the orange cords from our luggage. Instead, I unzipped his duffel bag and dug inside for his toiletry kit. Then I stopped, returning to my backpack so I could take out a few essentials of my own, shoving them into my sweater pocket.

  When I came back inside, Master Lyon was right where I’d left him, eyes opening to slits to make sure I’d returned and then shutting again. I made my way to the kitchen first to wet a dishtowel with cool water. Folding it into a neat square, I placed it over my Owner’s eyes.

  His fingers gripped my wrist for a moment, but it was enough to indicate he was thanking me in some way, the pain too great to speak.

  “I’ll be back,” I whispered, stepping into the kitchen once more to run the cold water and fill a mug. Glancing over my shoulder, I made sure it was just right before I turned off the faucet.

  Sitting beside him, I handed over the water as well as his kit, which he opened to take out two specific pills he swallowed with over half of the liquid. Once he had completely drained it, he gave the cup back to me.

  “More?” I asked.

  With a nod, he replaced the washcloth over his eyes and settled back into the sofa, arm behind the cushion where my back rested.

  I sprang to my feet to refill his mug and brought it back to him. This time, he drank slower, leaving it half-finished when he set it down.

  “Is there anything I can do?” My voice sounded small and there was no doubt he’d heard the helplessness in my tone.

  Lifting one corner of the washcloth, he tried to smile but he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

  “The lights,” I realized. “I could turn them off?”

  Nodding, he rested against the cushion again. I went through the assortment of switches on the wall until there was the barest glow coming from the dim fixture above the kitchen table.

  “Thank you, Fawn,” he said, visibly relaxing when I sat beside him.

  I knelt on the seat as his head came to rest on my chest. Not knowing how else to soothe him, I kissed his forehead.

  “I didn’t know you had migraines.” I kept my voice low, not wanting to make the throbbing in his head any worse.

  His other hand came to my waist, but he was weak, too tired to hold on. “They don’t happen often.” In contrast, he spoke at a normal volume, more concerned with how I viewed him. “Doctors say it was triggered by ‘past drug use.’”

  I felt awful that he had to relive this, remembering the pain so sharply while he was paralyzed.

  “I will be fine,” he whispered, clumsy fingers patting my knee. “Perhaps the traveling has gotten to me as well.”

  His attempt at a joke fell flat and we were quiet.

  “Fawn,” he said, and I immediately knew what was coming. “There is something I need to tell you.”

  He sat up straighter, taking the washcloth from his face so he could look at me. It was a clever move, waiting until we were safely tucked away in one of his fortresses before he braved this conversation. In his mind, he thought he was doing the right thing, gutting me when I couldn’t run from the knife.

  “Later,” I said, snuggling into his chest. “Tell me when you’re feeling better.”

  Master Lyon raked a hand through his hair, wincing when he found his migraine hadn’t disappeared simply by willing it away. Though he protested at first, he let me help him lie flat.

  “I don’t deserve you.” His accent had become thicker, words slightly slurred.

  “Shh,”
I scolded. “You need to rest.”

  He stayed incredibly still while I removed his shoes.

  “Comfortable?” I wasn’t certain what else I should say. Every time I opened my mouth, I risked telling him what I knew; the truth of what was happening.

  Master Lyon let out a soft grunt, and I took that to mean yes.

  “Would you like me to help with your pants?”

  His arm snaked out so he could grab my hand. “Essayer de me mettre nue si tôt?” He smirked. “Vous n'en avez pas assez?” Trying to get me naked so soon? Haven’t had enough?

  I wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion, pain, or meds he’d taken that made him so bold. If it was just my Owner trying to demonstrate he was okay or a plea for more contact. As he tore off his shirt, I undid his belt, sliding his pants and socks off before I covered him with a blanket.

  He jumped when he heard the keys slide from his hand and hit the rug.

  “I’ll leave these right here,” I assured him as he peeked at me with one eye. I showed him where I was placing the keyring as well as his wallet on the coffee table.

  Master Lyon stuffed a pillow under his head and lay on his side, blind and in the dark, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers beneath the blanket. He almost looked vulnerable. Not as invincible as he’d have me believe. I knew this was the last thing he wanted, showing this weakness in front of me, but he had no choice as the drugs took effect.

  I sat on the floor beside him, squeezing his hand until his grip loosened and he let go, floating into the realm of sleep despite how hard he fought. Tucking him in, I curled his hair around my finger and then out of his face.

  “I love you, Fawn,” he whispered, still treading against the unavoidable.

  Carefully, I leaned forward, noticing his breathing had deepened and he was most likely unable to hear me. “I love you too, Elliot.” As I kissed him, his arm wrapped around my waist and then went limp again. “Rest now. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  “You’ll stay?”

  He sounded like a child, afraid nightmares would wake him if he slept. His voice was small; as helpless as I felt. Kissing is feverish lips, I whispered, “Yes, sir.”

  With one last peck to my cheek, he submitted to the dark, and I sat alone watching for any sign of movement or pain. It was then I allowed the silent tears, but I quickly dried them. In that very same moment, I vowed this was the final time I lied to the man who Owned me.

  Eighteen

  Driving a car was nothing like using the ATV. Nor was it like riding a horse, and I couldn’t compare it to anything else. I could only command the machine far enough away from the cabin so I could use the phone I’d swiped from Master Lyon’s pocket. Additionally, I’d dumped the contents of my backpack into his duffel bag—conveniently leaving the tracker behind. I would have the freedom of using whatever supplies were within, but the clothing smelled like Elliot. I wanted him to cling to me so no one else could remove his mark.

  I’d decided on my plan in Seattle, but I hadn’t confirmed it until Oregon. It was the morning after he’d brought me back, when the withdrawal symptoms finally subsided and after he’d punished me with bruises that would later develop. He’d checked the bathroom for signs of me trying to escape, gone through my things. Locked all the doors and when everything else failed, physically tying me down. My Owner had been so careful, yet with all the commotion he hadn’t disposed of the tainted Cerberus water.

  This was not the way I’d wanted things to unfold, but there was no alternative. From the second Elliot had lied about Marius, I knew I would need every assurance that I could get to him and Odette.

  In the hotel room in Seattle, he’d let me walk around. Master Lyon wasn’t going to be preoccupied long, so I quickly got to work. The hotel’s tiny bottle of shampoo would have to suffice as an inconspicuous container; I rinsed it in the sink until all the bubbles disappeared down the drain, filling it one last time from the faucet to make sure it didn’t taste soapy. I thought only of finishing the tasks by the time my Owner returned. Each one occurred in rapid succession, my fingers someone else’s, my actions robotic and efficient.

  The conditioner, shampoo, and body wash available in the bathroom wouldn’t be seen as suspicious if it were to go missing or end up in my bag, so I took them all, knowing exactly which one held the drugs.

  When my Owner had split himself open, telling me about how this particular chemical had been used on him, I thought there was a chance I could slip it into a drink. I risked it kicking in when he was driving, but if we somehow didn’t crash, it would give me enough time to leave. I wasn’t a fool; he wouldn’t trust me again so soon—not before we were at the cabin.

  When we arrived in Oregon, after the phone call with Marius, I unbuckled the belt around my ankle. I opened his cigarette case and carefully slid half of them into my hand. There was a good possibility this wouldn’t work; I had no clue how Cerberus dust would react with nicotine, if the dose was enough to affect him whether he smoked or drank it. This method was a very last resort, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t cover every possibility.

  I used a portion from the vial in my backpack and doused his cigarettes, airing them out with the blow dryer attached to the wall in the bathroom. Master Lyon had told me Cerberus had been used on him, but he hadn’t indicated for how long. I’d only been using it a day or so and I’d been thrown into withdrawal so severe I couldn’t move once my supply was cut off. I had to assume he’d built some sort of tolerance, and even the most trace amount—if smoking worked at all—would at least incapacitate him long enough for me to get away.

  It was scary, just how fast it was done. It made me dizzy, and by the time I had replaced everything the way it had been when my Owner left, I had just enough strength to tie myself back to the bed and fall apart.

  I’d noticed as we neared the cabin how my Owner had become more stressed, lighting cigarette after cigarette—at first, I was sure it was just a habit, but after a while, I wondered if keeping a ready stream of Cerberus to the brain was necessary to stave off the headache he’d been fighting.

  Master Lyon had kept the news about Marius a secret for a reason, and if I could not get to him, I would have to prove he was right not to trust me with the information.

  Whoever had stepped out of the cabin early this morning wasn’t quite me. She didn’t look back at her Master sleeping alone in the blackened room. She didn’t think twice about locking the door and heading for the ATV. I tried to channel her as I struggled through the fog towards the car parked at the bottom of the mountain.

  Another person did all these things as I watched, but I knew I would eventually have to take responsibility for the acts this stranger in my body had committed.

  The surface was more even once I was in the BMW, and it was much easier to control. When I came upon the secluded rock wall, I used Master Lyon’s phone to find the appropriate app and then punch in the code the way Marius had shown me. It wasn’t long before I was through the tunnel and speeding towards the nearest main road.

  Master Lyon always made sure his vehicles were registered as undercover officers of some kind, and I used his foresight to my advantage as I learned how to master the gas and brakes—not that there were many drivers at this hour.

  More confident, I figured out the blinker system and took the first exit I saw, searching for a place that was safe to stop yet not completely in the open. It hadn’t occurred to me until I found a residential neighborhood, their windows dark, that there had been no security measures in place. I’d anticipated having to evade guards as well on my way out of the cabin’s entrance, but I hadn’t seen any, and I hadn’t been stopped thus far.

  As I thought, I realized neither the car nor the ATV had been replaced away from the cabin where they were usually kept. No one had come in to check on us once we’d arrived, and as far as I could tell, there hadn’t been another soul on the property since Marius had been taken.

  Though my Owner would have li
ked the idea of sending away his security, I highly doubted he would do so willingly. Perhaps Zoe had taken them with her—or they worked for House Wolf as well. That, or after Marius’ capture, her involvement had unnerved the Chaos members to the point that they’d abandoned us.

  Deep down, I hadn’t wanted to resort to drugging Elliot. If there was a fiber within Master Lyon that would listen to the facts, I would have appealed to that part of him until I lost my voice. There was no guarantee that I’d be presented with the chance to empty the bottle into one of his drinks, and my Owner would never believe I was capable of something this horrible.

  I couldn’t believe I could do this either.

  Not Fawn.

  Not Doe.

  Maus.

  In order to avoid unwanted attention, I turned off the headlights, only the screen of my Owner’s phone to illuminate the card between the pages of my book. I’d stopped at a cul-de-sac an hour away; the BMW looked a little out of place between family vans and other unassuming cars parked along the street. Hopefully, I wouldn’t be here long.

  Taking a deep breath, I locked everything away. I dialed and the tone seemingly went on forever, but a groggy voice eventually asked, “Hello?”

  The words died on my tongue; I didn’t know how to start.

  “Elisa Santos,” she said, more awake when there was silence on the other end. “Do you need help?”

  That made me pause. This woman struck me as someone who always answered. Someone in need could call upon her at any hour and she was ready to provide her services—at least that was how she wanted me to feel.

  “Yes,” I finally said.

  She immediately snapped into action. I imagined her leaving her bed to sit at a cluttered desk strewn with newspaper clippings and legal documents.

  “All right,” she said after a moment. “I’ve pinpointed your location. Are you safe there?”