by Ella Miles
They aren’t real. Or if they are real, they are mild. Just enough necessary to make it appear that Langston raped and tortured her all night.
But there are tears in her eyes. Real. Genuine. Tears.
I fight against my restraints. Damn Langston for taping my arms and legs so tightly that I can’t break free.
It’s not real. She’s acting.
Jesus, does it look real.
Langston releases Siren, and she scoots away to the corner of the room like she’s terrified of him. She’s not tied up, cowering in the corner against the wall.
What the hell is happening? What did I miss?
“Where is it?” Julian sits in one of the chairs, motioning for Langston to sit opposite of him.
“Scotland,” Langston answers, naming a country and not a specific place.
Julian narrows his eyes. “Where exactly?”
Langston doesn’t answer. Does he not know? Did Siren keep the information to herself? Or does he not want to tell Julian?
“Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll make her tell me,” Julian stands and moves toward Siren.
Fight, baby. Kick his ass.
She doesn’t move, though. She slumps to the floor, practically curling into a ball, so unlike my Siren.
I fight against my restraints, but I make no progress.
Julian goes to grab Siren’s hair, but Langston grabs his wrist.
“She’s mine. Until we have the box, she’s my assurance that you won’t betray me. I know you want her,” Langston says, throwing Julian’s hand down.
Julian studies Siren closer, and I see the secret revealed a second before he does, but it’s too late.
“You’re pregnant?” Julian says, blinking at Siren.
She stares down at the floor, not looking at him.
“Answer me! Are. You. Pregnant?”
Siren finally looks up at him, the heat and fire returning to her eyes. “Yes.”
“Whose? Whose is it?”
Julian studies her belly, like it holds all the answers, like it can tell him whose baby she’s caring.
I fight the scarf off from around my mouth. “MINE,” I growl.
Everyone’s attention turns to me when I speak.
Julian turns to me. “How do you know for sure? I raped her several weeks ago. It would make sense if the baby were mine.”
There is a small chance the baby is his, but I’m not letting him know that. He will never be a father. I will ensure that.
“We had a DNA test run to ensure I was the father. If not, Siren was going to terminate the pregnancy.” It’s a lie, but I don’t care. I don’t want Julian to have any claim to the baby. Siren assured me she doesn’t think it’s him. She’s too far along for it to be his. But I want him to know definitively that the baby isn’t his.
Julian’s reaction is blank. He doesn’t blink, and he doesn’t show emotion on his face. Instead, he walks into the kitchen and then returns a moment later with a roll of tape.
I snarl at him as he takes a piece of tape and wraps it over my mouth, assuring my silence.
“I’ll find out if the baby is mine or not. If it’s mine, I will enjoy raising it with Siren. If it’s not, I will destroy it.”
I fight so hard that I break the chair I’m sitting in. I’ve never wanted to kill a man more than I do now. The second I get my legs free, five men dive on top of me. They quickly tie more ropes around me and hold me down, taking two men per rope to ensure I’m immobile.
He threatened my child. I’m going to kill him and then bring him back to life and kill him again, over and over.
Julian’s phone buzzes, and he frowns before looking at it. He answers, “Yes.”
There’s a pause.
“We’re close.”
Another pause.
“I understand.”
And then he ends the call. He looks to Langston. “Where exactly is it located?”
“All I’ve gotten is a country. But if I spend the day with her, I’m sure I’ll get the exact location,” Langston says. “Why don’t you head to Scotland, and we will follow as soon as I finish breaking her.”
“No, we are out of time. It has to be today. Get her to tell us now, or I will.”
Langston looks like he wants to object, but decides against it. I plead with him with my eyes to save Siren. I don’t care about me. Just get her and get out of here. I’ll find a way to kill Julian. We can hunt his financier down after Julian is dead.
Langston walks over to Siren, who coils back like he’s about to strike out at her. Her reaction terrifies me.
He grabs one of her wrists and starts dragging her to his bedroom.
Julian sits down in his chair and flicks on the TV as Langston leaves. Then Julian flicks the channel to Langston’s security system.
“Put on a good show,” Julian says, winking at Langston as he drags Siren out of the room.
Fuck.
I give Langston one last plea with my eyes. You can escape. Take Siren out the window and make a run for it. Kai and Enzo will be here soon to help me. Just save her. There is no way to fake torturing her on a live feed. And I know Siren, she won’t give up the location when she knows Julian is listening.
Langston gives me no indication of what he’s thinking as he drags Siren down the hallway away from me once again.
I stare at the TV, waiting for them to come back into view. I take in the wrecked room on the screen. The comforter and sheets are half on the bed. The furniture is all messed up with drawers out, and lamps thrown to the floor.
Please don’t let any more damage happen. Please let Siren and our baby be okay.
Langston and Siren come back into view. She tries to pull away and get him to let go of her wrists, but the way he’s gripping her wrist, there is no way her arm can slip through.
“Let me go!” Siren cries, her legs are kicking against Langston to let her go.
Langston ignores her pleas, her suffering. The pain she’s trying to inflict on him doesn’t even phase him.
Siren pulls hard on his grip, throwing her entire body to the floor to try and make it as difficult as possible for Langston.
I know my girl; she can escape any man. If Langston is truly hurting her, Siren will fight back until she escapes.
This is all fake, a show.
Langston drags her through the room to the bed.
Do not get in that bed.
Then he’s yanking her up by her wrists and throwing her into the bed.
Siren immediately tries to roll off the other side of the bed, but Langston grabs her ankle and yanks her back. He throws his weight on top of her, pinning her body underneath him.
Julian snickers next to me.
I scream beneath the tape over my mouth. I don’t understand how he is okay with another man raping a woman who he feels is his.
Julian looks at me and laughs. “Don’t worry, Zeke. She’s not Bishop’s. He’s just borrowing her. She’s mine.”
I fight harder against my restraints and yell through the tape, hoping Julian will want to talk and remove the tape, but his eyes have turned back to the screen. Mine follow, although I wish they hadn’t—because what I see will never leave my mind. Not ever.
Siren’s pants are around her ankles. Her wrists are pinned together in one of Langston’s hands above her head, and his body is pressed between her legs.
I can’t watch this, even if it’s fake, but I can’t tear my eyes away from it either. I’m trapped in a horror movie.
There is no audio from the security camera; the only sounds we hear are when Langston makes her scream or cry loud enough that we can hear down the hallway.
We can’t see their mouths move at this angle either, so I don’t know if they are talking. I don’t know what sounds Siren is making.
Langston’s hand roars back, and there’s a slap.
“Hit the bitch again!” one of the guards shouts at the TV.
“Strip her and turn her around so we can see her. Th
is is better than free porn,” another guard says, and then they are all chuckling together, shouting out what they want Langston to do to her like they are watching an HBO fight or something.
Come on, baby. Kick him off you. Do something. Show me you still have some fight left in you.
Then I see a knife that Langston has pulled out and pushed against her neck. She’s breathing heavily but doesn’t move. Her eyes dart down, trying to get a look at how he’s holding the knife to her neck, but otherwise, she’s as still as stone.
This is fake, I repeat to myself for the thousandth time. This is just an orchestrated dance to please Julian. This is just so Langston can still pretend he is working with Julian; so that he can get close to him and eventually help us kill him.
But the way he’s holding the knife against her carotid has me nervous. He’s pressing harder than necessary. It seems real, so fucking real.
Make up a lie about where the box is, and end this—please.
I watch carefully, every movement.
Langston continues to hold the knife to her neck as he reaches down and works on his pants.
My eyes widen, watching in fear.
This is fake.
Fake.
Fake.
Fake.
He’s not going to rape her. He’s not going to hurt her.
A single tear drops from Siren’s eye, landing in the corner. She looks disgusted at Langston, like she hates him worse than any man she’s ever hated.
Siren hates Julian. He raped her, violated her. But I know that thinking about me saved her from the pain.
She’s not thinking about me, now. She’s hating Langston—a man who she thought was her friend. Who I believed was my friend.
“No!” I scream through the tape as I watch him position himself between her legs, keeping the knife at her neck, her hands stay above her head, likely because he’s told her he’ll slit her throat if she moves.
Julian’s eyes darken.
The room quiets as they watch with fascination.
And then I watch him thrust his hips.
I watch her cringe in disgust.
That single tear that was caught in her eye rolls down her cheek and off her chin.
That tear tells me everything—this is real.
This isn’t fake.
Langston played us both.
He’s not our friend.
He works for Julian.
From the smug expression on Julian’s face, this is why he was willing to let Langston rape Siren. He wanted to show me, once and for all, whose side Langston is on—his. Julian won the war. He got Siren. And he turned my best friend against me.
I fight with all my might against the bindings, but I can’t break free. I’m locked where I am with nothing to look at, but my beautiful wife being violated.
I feel bile rising in my throat. I’d vomit if there wasn’t tape covering my mouth.
I’m going to kill him.
I’m going to kill them all—burn everyone in this house, send them all to hell.
I watch Langton thrust into Siren like she’s his, like he has the right. No one has the right.
I failed.
I failed to protect her.
This is my biggest failure. The only reason she’s with Langston right now is because I told her to trust him. I thought he was my friend. I was so wrong.
I will never forgive myself.
But I can’t keep letting this go on. I have to stop it. I have to.
I fight harder, pushing again and again and again against the bindings. I get one ankle free then the other.
The men are too focused on the TV to notice.
I pull hard on my wrists, but I can’t get them free.
I stare at the TV, gaining strength from Siren to save her. Siren must have decided this is the moment to fight back, too, because I see her and Langston struggling instead of him thrusting.
Yes, we have to fight back. We won’t take this without fighting. Together, we are going to destroy them all.
I rip my arms free and then rip the tape from my mouth. This gets everyone’s attention, but it’s too late. Nothing will stop me from running into the room, ripping Langston off of Siren, and squeezing the life out of Langston.
A guard comes at me, but I punch him, knocking him down with one hit.
Two more attack from the side with guns firing at me. I dodge the bullets, grab a gun from one of them and use it to fire at the other before turning it on the other guard. Both men drop.
Then I turn and fire the gun at the other three men. I move to turn the gun on Julian when he gasps at the sight on the TV before shouting, “You’re a fucking dead man!”
He starts storming down the hallway before I have a chance to fire at him.
I glance at the TV, scared of what I will find.
Blood.
So much fucking blood covers the white sheet, droves and droves of blood. Langston continues to lie on top of Siren, so I can’t figure out where the blood is coming from on the TV.
The sight only amplifies my speed. I run down the hallway, knocking Julian aside so I can be the first to burst through the room.
The moment in front of me almost makes me faint. I’ve never seen anything worse; nothing could be worse.
Siren dead is the only imaginable thing that could be worse.
The blood I see is unimaginable.
I can’t tell where it’s coming from.
I grab Langston by the back of his neck and throw him off of her. I have to get to her. I have to end her pain. I have to protect her from any more evil.
When I rip him off her, I see where the blood is coming from—from between her legs. I look over at Langston, who has pulled his pants up, blood all over him as well.
I look back at Siren with so many tears and pain in my eyes. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. My heart stops. And unlike last time, I don’t think it can be resuscitated. It will never work properly again.
What I see can’t be true. I can’t have let this happen. I can’t have.
I open my mouth to ask, but my voice doesn’t work, only my tears.
My tears fall freely, pouring gallons of water out of my eyes. My very soul escapes through my tear ducts.
The pain I see on Siren’s face isn’t physical. It’s not because Langton physically hurt her. It’s because of what she knows is true, the loss she’s experiencing.
I open my mouth again, my lungs still burning from being drowned, but now my throat has tightened, making it almost impossible to speak. But I have to; I have to know the truth, no matter how painful, how horrible, how unthinkable. I have to face it. I have to be strong for her.
I hear Julian behind me. Langston is moving toward us. I need a moment to understand that truth. After that, I’ll turn into the monster I need to be to destroy the men behind me. But right now, I need to connect Siren and my’s pain. I need it to fuel me through my heartache and make the men pay who did this.
I take Siren’s hand in mine through our tears, and then I push through my pain.
“The baby?” I ask above barely a whisper.
Siren purses her lips, letting all the air out of her body, like that will somehow let the truth out, but it doesn’t. She has to speak. She has to tell me.
“Gone,” she yelps as she says it, like speaking the truth makes it true.
My head drops to hers as our pain mixes. Our hearts break. I don’t know how we survive this pain. I don’t know how Siren can ever forgive me for letting this happen.
But I know that I will make every man responsible pay.
26
Siren
Gone—the word burns through me. Just like the pain. I never thought I’d experience such trauma, such loss. But here I am, experiencing the worst thing possible.
Zeke’s head rests against my forehead. The pain flows through him as powerfully as water over rapids. I feel every sharp intake of his breath, every rip of his heart, every vibration of his pain. I sense
it all.
I feel his pain worse than I feel my own. It’s intolerable to him. He won’t recover from this. The man I knew is gone. I’ve destroyed him with my news.
My truth.
My sinful truth.
I close my eyes, and I remember. The trauma, the worst trauma I can imagine short of Zeke dying, is what spirals me into the past. What causes me to remember everything. All the truths I’ve hidden.
I walk up the large hill completely out of breath. I look behind me, afraid I’m being tracked, but of course, I’m not. Everyone who knows about this is either dead or thinks the fake I swapped it with is real. There is no one coming after me. At least, not yet.
But someday, I know they will. A great evil will come for it. And when that happens, I will have this box as hidden as humanly possible.
So I keep climbing, even though I’m exhausted. My feet burn, my heart aches with the pain I’ve endured to protect the box. This is my destiny; this is my purpose—to protect the world from this danger.
Finally, I step foot on top of the large hill. An old fashioned castle straight out of the fourteenth century sits on top. I take a deep breath.
I’m doing the right thing.
I walk to the door, and before I have a chance to knock, a man opens it. A man I’ve never met before but who I instantly trust.
“Are you sure you want to hide it, instead of destroying it?” he asks me, not even giving me an introduction. He knows why I’m here, and he knows that finishing the task is more important than small talk.
“Yes, I can’t say exactly why. Mostly a feeling that it’s going to be needed someday.”
He nods. “You don’t have to explain it to me. You are the one who should make the decision. I trust you.”
I pull the box out of my bag and hold it out to him. “Just as I trust you.”
He takes it from me. “I’ll guard it with my life.”
“Even from me?”
He hesitates but then finally agrees. “Yes, I’ll guard it, even from you.”
“Thank you. I know what I’m asking.”
“Nothing more than is required.”
He doesn’t invite me in. Even if he did, I can’t come inside. I need to leave. I need to forget. I need to finish my task and figure out how I can forget, so no one can ever use me to find such evil.