by L V Chase
He’s right. It sounds unbelievable. It makes more sense that this is one of his manipulations to humiliate me. But his tired tone and his slumped shoulders indicate an exhaustion that would be difficult to fake, and he’s not looking at me for a reaction. He’s not looking at me at all.
“What does this have to do with me?” I ask.
“What do you think happens when you’re a god among men?” Klay makes a disgusted face. “For them, nothing’s forbidden, nothing’s out of reach. You’ve heard the stories of wild orgies, secret dungeons, all the taboo sins you could imagine and the ones you don’t want to? That would bore them.”
I shiver. I don’t know where Klay is going with this, but the fact that it involves me is beyond disturbing or frightening. It’s enough for me wish that I was in fact crazy, so I wouldn’t have to face any of it. Except then I would have to give him up, too.
I glance at Klay, but he’s still looking away.
“They offered our three families the chance to be elevated. It’s the Hunt, and you’re the Sacrifice. Whoever wins you enters the Society.”
I’m too shocked to say anything for a moment. When Klay finally looks at me, all I can do is stare back. I open my mouth, but Klay holds up his hand.
“There’s more. The Society owns the entire town. It’s their playground, and everyone here knows about Ethan, Roman, and me. They gave you a cocktail of drugs to trigger your amnesia, on purpose, so that you wouldn’t remember us.”
I find myself gripping onto the comforter the same way Klay had been. This is insane, but it explains the bizarre parts of my life too well—why Roman and Ethan were immediately invested in me, and the reason nearly everyone else avoided me.
“How can they own the entire town?” I reply weakly.
Klay’s face darkens. “They practically own entire countries. This town is a toy, a trinket to them.”
A million questions fight at the tip of my tongue to be asked. Before I can strategically choose, one bursts out of me.
“Why was I chosen?” I ask, anger cutting into my voice even as I attempt to remain calm. “Is it because my parents are dead? That you thought no one would care about me, so no one would care what happened to me?”
“It’s the exact opposite,” he says. “You were chosen because I cared about you too much.”
I clench my hands together, staring down at the knot of my fingers. The truth is sweet and dangerous, a bomb disguised as dessert.
“Why did you act so cruelly, then?” I ask. “Why did turn everyone against me?”
“They others know we’re on Society business and aren't supposed to interfere. As for me...” He pauses for a moment. “I didn’t want you to get attached to me. I didn’t want you to be lured into taking my deal, which is the worst one. I know you, Sadie, and you’d be willing to take the deal.”
I shake my head, my hair swaying in front of my eyes. “Deal, what deal?”
He reaches forward, placing his hand on my knee. When he looks up at me, his eyes are filled with regret and the shadows underneath them indicate that his regrets have grown in his mind for a long while. I put my hand on top of his hand, my thumb caressing his skin. He gives me a gentle smile before pulling his hand away.
“They wouldn’t make it simple, the Society.” Klay shakes his head. “Winning you doesn’t mean getting you in bed, or I’d already have won.” He flashes me a mischievous grin as he says that, but his eyes aren’t smiling.
“Klay…”
Klay’s features harden, as if he doesn’t want to keep speaking, and he’s forcing himself through this. “Ethan’s the lawyer’s kid. He wins if you give him legal control over your life. I’m the doctor’s kid. I win if you agree to a medical procedure.” Klay grimaces as he says this. “As for the banker’s kid, money can buy everything. So, Roman has to beat either Ethan or me to the same thing.”
“What procedure?” I ask. “What do you need me to do?”
“Don’t worry about that,” he says. He clasps his hands between his knees. “The important part is that you need to refuse their offers long enough for the Society to declare a failure. If you’re not a part of their game, they won’t care about you anymore. You’ll be free.”
“What happens if I tell them I know everything?” I say. “Wouldn’t the fact that I know everything ruin their contest?”
“Yes,” he says, staring down at his hands. “But we’re talking about people who derive all of their pleasure from controlling people. Anyone out of their control becomes an issue. They’ll kill you, us, everyone who dares to spoil their game.”
“Why are you telling me all this, then?” I ask, biting the inside of my cheek.
“You know why,” he says. He glances back at me, our eyes locking. “It’s always been too big of a risk to let you know. But I’d rather you find out now, that you stop digging into it and avoid signing your life away. Don’t agree to anything. If you hold off for long enough, they’ll leave you alone.”
He leans back. I close my eyes as he kisses me. The kiss is simple, but I can feel all of the weight he’s been carrying behind it. The kiss stops. I open my eyes. In the corner of my eye, I see the door close. He’s gone.
It could all have been a feverish delusion, except the imprint of his body is still on the comforter. I reach forward and touch the heat of his body still lingering there.
34
Sadie
I get into the passenger side of Dr. Harrington’s car. I haven’t seen Klay since he left his bedroom.
“I’m sorry that took so long,” Dr. Harrington says as he pulls out of his driveway. “My family is having some difficulties.”
“Oh,” I say. “I didn’t know that.”
“It’s nothing Klay would mention,” he says as takes a deep breath. “My wife has a benzodiazepine addiction, which is difficult to deal with because withdrawal can last for years. A relapse is something Klay has grown up to see as inevitable. I wouldn’t normally tell anyone about this, but Klay could use emotional support right now.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ll do what I can,” I reply.
I don’t know if he’s lying or not to cover for the Society, but some part of my brain accepts the information as familiar.
Silence settles inside the car, but as we pass by Roman’s party, I see a couple lying in the grass. The memory of scratchy grass passes through my mind.
In the memory, I’d lost one of my earrings. Klay and I were searching for it on our hands and knees, desperate to find it because I’d just bought them. It had seemed like the most important thing until Klay put his hand on my shoulder, reassuring me he’d buy me a new pair. I later found it, accidentally hooked onto my sweater.
My memories rewind to that moment in his Jeep after we’d met in front of the hospital. I was worried about my grandmother. He gave me a lot of reassurances I knew he couldn’t guarantee. I was ready to write him off as a rich asshole who couldn’t understand someone like me, a nobody whose parents were killed by a drunk driver and lived with a sick grandmother. But when he dropped me off, he told me that he’d keep in contact with the hospital and give me text updates.
And he did.
My mind spins forward in time again, landing at a moment when we were in his Jeep. He was worried about his mother’s withdrawal. He didn’t tell me that outright, but he cursed his father for continuously giving her prescriptions. We’d been keeping our relationship a secret, so he felt like a fantasy I managed to slip into, but this moment had made me see him as human, someone as damaged as I was.
In the next memory, I saw him at a party. He tucked another girl’s hair behind her ear. Jealousy slammed into me.
I ran out. He followed me. We ended up in front of a park. He told me about the Society for the first time. I’d thought we kept our relationship a secret because he was ashamed of dating someone less rich, less popular, or less attractive than him, but I learned that he didn’t want the Society to know about me.
I’d heard
rumors of the Society in Marshall, but it was an urban legend. It was one of those excuses people brought up for not being successful or as a joke. The only reason I believed him was because he was terrified, and he never showed fear.
I return to one of my original recovered memories, the one where we’re making out on Klay’s bed. I’d been asking him about how long we could keep our relationships a secret. He told me we would run away and live on an island called Sadie’s Island. Before, all I could remember was that the door opened.
I remember what happened now.
It was Dr. Harrington, his father, who walked in and saw us together. He’d been angry. Klay told me to leave, and I did.
Later, Klay told me that his father had found out about us and proposed for me to be chosen for the upcoming Hunt. It was his father’s twisted punishment for Klay, who was meant to remain unattached to anyone.
Klay wasn’t supposed to fall in love. He was supposed to cold and uncaring so that he could go through the Hunt without any hang-ups, holding nothing back to win.
But his father was both cunning and cruel. He figured that Klay had a better chance of winning the Hunt with me as the target. Or rather, that Klay couldn’t afford to lose.
His father was certain my feelings for Klay would resurface, despite the induced amnesia. Klay wouldn’t be able to warn me, not without risking the wrath of the Society, or his father who was dead set on entering the ranks of the Society.
Klay never told me what would happen if he failed.
I glance over at Dr. Harrington now. This is why I didn’t trust him when I first met him. He was right—my feelings for Klay remained, even after my memory was corrupted, but my fear of Dr. Harrington stayed with me, too. I just couldn’t figure out why before.
My finger runs over the door’s interior handle. If I jumped out, I’d likely be badly injured. I’d end up in a hospital he owns. But if we stopped again or slowed down, I could get out and run.
But where could I run? If what Klay says is true, I won’t be able to escape this nightmare.
“You’re shaking,” Dr. Harrington says.
I flinch at his voice.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Do you need a coat? I have one in the backseat.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Yes, I see that, now,” he says. The car accelerates. “I assume Klay went against my directive and explained everything to you.”
“What? No,” I say quickly. “I mean, I don’t know what he would explain to me.”
“It’s fine, Sadie,” he says. “I always knew that was a risk. One day, he will be a good man, but he still needs to learn to keep the larger goal in mind over short term objectives. He’s young, but he needs to set a better example for his brothers.”
“It’s not his fault,” I say. “He only told me because—”
“Sadie,” Dr. Harrington cuts me off. “If the Society becomes aware that I tilted the Hunt into Klay’s favor, they’ll react quickly. They’ll punish all of us, Klay included, for the transgression.”
“I can keep a secret,” I say.
“I understand that you believe that,” he says. “But the science says differently, and my own son couldn’t keep his silence.”
He slams on the brakes. My head bounces off the car’s dashboard. Pain splinters across my forehead, and I hear a clicking noise. As I turn to look over at Dr. Harrington, there’s a rustle of movement. He punches his fist against my thigh, but a sharp pain accompanies the ache in my leg.
I clutch my head as Dr. Harrington pulls away from me, a syringe in his hand. As he puts the syringe into a small container, exhaustion overwhelms me and my body slumps forward.
I rub my eyes, trying to remain conscious. “What was that?”
“Relax, Sadie,” he says. “Take some deep breaths. You’re going to be fine. You’re just need to sleep.”
My mind struggles, but my body doesn’t react. If he just killed me, I need to tell Klay that I care about him, too. I didn’t get to tell my parents I loved them before they died, but I need Klay to know that I love him before I die. I need him to know that none of this is his fault. I need him—
35
Sadie
This time, when I wake up, I don’t open my eyes. The odor of fresh paint stings my nose, and the stiffness underneath me feels similar to the hospital bed I’d been lying in earlier. Bright light pierces through my eyelids, making it difficult to keep my eyes closed, though. It’s quiet except for the distant sound of sirens.
None of my five senses tell me that anybody is close by, but my instincts tell me that I’m being watched.
When I open my eyes, I’m staring up at ceiling lights that would be bright enough to signal a plane in the sky. I turn my head. Dr. Harrington is sitting in a chair beside the hospital bed I’m in, gazing at me.
I look away from him, raising my head enough to look around the rest of the room. It’s an empty hospital room—no machines, no TV, no whiteboard, no medical waste container, nothing. I look out toward the hallway. The lights aren’t on, and I don’t hear anyone.
This is the same hospital from my memories. It’s the renovated area Klay and I used to sneak into to spend time together when we were trying avoid prying eyes.
I turn back to Dr. Harrington. His expression hasn’t changed, and he still as calm as ever. It’s more frightening than if he had been having a meltdown or a tantrum.
I try to escape off the bed. Pain slices into my wrists. I look down. My wrists are handcuffed to the hospital bed’s rails.
“Good morning,” I say to Dr. Harrington as casually as I can. I sit up awkwardly. “What time is it?”
“Not much time has passed,” he says.
I bow my head, letting my hair sway in front of my face. I need to look as young as possible. I need to convince him I’m harmless. “Please. The handcuffs aren’t necessary. If you unlock them, we can talk and figure out what we need to do. This will look suspicious to anyone.”
“As far as Ethan or Roman know, you’re at the other hospital still,” he says. “If they have connections there, they’ll assume I took you home to sleep. Nobody is going to see anything. Therefore, they’re not going to be suspicious.”
“This is insane,” I say, the word coming off sharper then I mean it to. I take another deep breath. “You can’t honestly believe this is a good idea. You’re drugging people without their consent.”
“I had your consent to do both those things,” he says. “You may, in fact, be the first subject that knew what was going to happen before it did.”
“You know what I mean,” I say. “I didn’t know what was happening until Klay explained it. This isn’t right.”
“I could erase your memories again,” he says. “The problem is that you were supposed to forget about the Society and who our sons are, but you had core memories with Klay. That’s why we’re here now.”
“I’d apologize,” I say. “But I never apologize when I’m in handcuffs.”
He smirks at me. “Well, you’re not just the target. You’re the reward, too, the proper way to motivate three young boys. The Society has its tastes.”
“It’s not a game. The Society is playing with my life. They’re playing God.”
And they are benevolent gods,” he says. “The Society has done more for humanity than you could ever imagine. Humans are violent, malicious, irrational, and inclined to see the world through a very narrow lens. The Society sees the bigger picture. The average person will only act in the interest of themselves and, sometimes, their loved ones. They act in the interest of everyone.”
Klay had painted a picture of a depraved elite too powerful to know what to do with their power. The way Dr. Harrington’s talking about them makes the Society sound like almost religious.
In other words, he’s bought into their bullshit.
“It sounds like you’re acting in your own interest this whole time,” I reply. “You just want power for yoursel
f, and whatever that lets you do.”
He runs his hand over his jaw. “I don’t expect you to understand. You’re still young. You still think the world revolves around you. But there are bigger things at play.”
I sit up tall, the handcuffs cutting into the top of my wrists. I’m tired of people treating me like I’m stupid and fragile. I’m sick of being the one people lie to. Now that my memories are coming back, I can take back all of the things that were taken from me.
“What about Klay?” I ask. “He’s your son, and he cares about me. He thinks I’m trustworthy. You should trust his judgment.”
“Do you trust Klay’s judgment?” he counters.
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll have no problem agreeing to the procedure.”
I stare at him. Klay never told me what this procedure is. Dr. Harrington settles back in his chair, leaning his forehead against his index finger.
“Come now, Sadie,” he says. “You were just telling me that I should trust Klay’s judgment when it comes to you, an eighteen-year-old girl he tried to keep secret from me. And you told me that you trust Klay. So, this procedure should be a simple choice for you.”
I press my lips together. His head tilts, considering me carefully.
“You don’t know what it is,” he says slowly. “I see. Klay skipped over that. I imagine it’s possible he never told you the first time. It wouldn’t be something he’d be inclined to bring up—either because he’d think it would scare you off, or you’d volunteer yourself.”
“He doesn’t want me to do it,” I say.
“It’s not a simple medical procedure,” Dr. Harrington says, his eyes lighting up. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not easy. It’s similar to breaking your spine, but more precise. A series of partial cuts that remove all motor control while still allowing the possibility of some physical sensation.”
“I’d be paralyzed,” I say.