Unraveling You Series: The Complete Set

by Jessica Sorensen

  His words don’t soften Lila at all. In fact, her face reddens with anger.

  “If this escalates into something worse . . .” She jabs a finger at him.

  “I know. I know. You’ll cut off my balls.” He swings around her and heads for the doors that lead to the waiting room.

  After he’s gone, Lila turns to me. “’How are you feeling?” She squints at my face to examine my eyes. “The doctor says we need to keep an eye out for a concussion.”

  “I know. I was right here, remember?” I ask, starting for the door.

  “I know. That was a test to see how your memory is.” She walks ahead of me and pushes the door open so I can go through.

  “My memory’s fine.” But that’s not the truth.

  I may be able to remember tonight, but I still can’t remember that time in the house. Part of me wonders now if the reason why I blocked it all out isn’t just because of the trauma and horrible things that happened to me in that house. Maybe my mind is trying to protect me from the pain of who was behind it all.

  Could it be my real father who chose to break me, his own flesh and blood?

  As soon as I step foot into the waiting room, my worries momentarily vanish, and all my thoughts center on one thing or person, anyway.

  “Ayden.” Lyric’s eyes light up when she sees me. She sprints across the room, pushing people out of her way to get to me. When she reaches me, she throws her arms around me and almost knocks me to the ground. “I was so worried . . . I don’t even . . .” She stops talking and holds me tightly.

  “Careful, Lyric,” Lila says from beside us. “He might have a concussion.”

  Lyric starts to pull back, but I place my hand on the small of her back and press her closer. “She’s fine,” I tell Lila.

  I won’t let her go.

  Not until she knows.

  Ethan gives me a pat on the back while Lyric remains latched on to me.

  “I’m glad you’re okay.” Her eyes are red like she’s been crying.

  I’ve been crying, too, but not because I’ve been worried for my safety. I cried during the ride to the hospital because the woman got away. My hope to find Sadie got away.

  Lyric and I remain joined at the hip as we pile into her dad’s car. Lila rides with us, too, because she refuses to let me out of her sight.

  “I’ll come back for the car in the morning,” she says as she climbs into the backseat with Lyric and me.

  Ethan nods in agreement as Mr. Scott drives forward and out onto the road. Everyone stays pretty quiet during the drive, and the sound of the tires and the lull of the radio fills up the silence.

  Lyric keeps her arms around me and her head resting above my heart. I count to ten under my breath, over and over again. Not because she’s touching me. Not because I’m having a panic attack. But because the need to tell her how I feel is about to combust inside me.

  I thought I was going to die tonight,

  Be buried in the trees

  Beneath the stars and the moon

  For only the sky to see.

  My body would sink into the dirt

  And be stilled in the silence forever.

  And in the midst of my mind,

  I knew I’d never be able to tell her.

  It’s well past midnight by the time we make it home. Everson, Kale, and Fiona are asleep on the Scott’s couch and floor, and Lyric’s mom looks worried out of her mind.

  “Let them sleep,” Mrs. Scott says to Lila. “I’ll call you when they wake up tomorrow.”

  Lila nods gratefully. She has bags under her eyes, her blonde hair has slipped from her braid, and she looks drained dry. Even Ethan doesn’t look in that great of shape.

  I want to make this easy on them so they can get some rest, but there’s something I have to do first.

  “Can I talk to Lyric for a moment?” I ask as Lila leans down to kiss Fiona on the head.

  “Of course.” She moves to Kale, pulling the blanket over him. “Just make it quick, please.”

  I nod then steer Lyric toward the stairway.

  “Where are we going?” she asks as I take her hand and lead her up the stairs.

  “I have to tell you something.” I move slowly; otherwise, my head throbs. My heart, on the other hand, races violently inside my chest as I mentally go over what I’m going to say to her. Preparing doesn’t do any good, though, because the moment we make it into her room, and she looks at me with her stunning green eyes, my mind blanks out on me.

  “I-I love you?” I stutter, sounding more like I’m asking a question than declaring my feelings for her. As soon as the words leave my lips, I want to smack myself in the head. “God, that sounded awful.”

  “No, it didn’t. It was perfect.” Her hands glide up my chest, and she links her arms around my neck. “I love you, too.”

  I seal my lips to hers, kissing her deliberately, savoring the taste, feel, scent, the warmth of her as I back her to the bed and lay her down. I know we don’t have a lot of time, but I need a moment to feel her beneath me, know she’s here.

  Know that I’m still here.

  I thought I was never going to have this again. Now that I know what it feels like to think I’ve lost it—her—I don’t know what I was so afraid of. Being with her is better than music, poetry, words spilled on pages.

  This is . . .

  Perfect.

  “I need you to do me a favor,” I say, pushing back to look down at her.

  She nods, her lips swollen from the kiss, her chest heaving as she struggles to catch her breath. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

  She says exactly what I knew she would say. I just hope she’ll keep her word.

  “I’m going to call Dr. Gardingdale and make an appointment to do the experimental therapy, and I need you to be there for me, because I know Lila’s not going to. Not after tonight.”

  “Ay”—she hesitates—“are you sure that’s a good idea after what just happened?”

  “That’s the thing.” I push up, sit down on her bed, and pull my knee up to rest my arm on my leg. “Tonight could have been avoided if I had just done the damn therapy to begin with.”

  Lyric sits up beside me, combing her hair into place. “You know I’ll be there for you if you need me.” She lays her hand over mine and threads our fingers together. “I just need you to be sure you want to do this.”

  I turn and look her directly in the eyes so she’ll know how truthful I’m being. “I want to do this.”

  She grasps onto my hand and shuts her eyes. “Then I’ll be there for you.”

  “Thank you.” I lean in and kiss her before moving off the bed and retrieving my phone from my pocket.

  “You’re calling him now?” she asks, standing to her feet.

  I nod as I dial his office number. “I’ll leave a message on his phone, but I need to do it now; otherwise, it’ll drive me crazy.”

  I put the phone up to my ear, taking deep breaths and preparing myself for what I’m about to do. The cards have shifted now that I know my real father might be involved, and I’m even more terrified of what’s locked away in the box in my mind.

  I have to do it now more than ever.

  I know what the risks are. Shock. More memory loss. Heart complications. There’s a short list of other side effects, as well.

  But it’s time to take that risk. It’s time for me to face my demons head on and find out what really happened to my siblings and me in that house. And who did it to us.

  Inspiring You

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Copyright © 2015 by Jessica Sorensen

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

  No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the permission in writing from author. The
only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms.

  For information:

  www.jessicasorensen.com

  Cover Design by:

  Okay Creations

  Photography:

  Perrywinkle Photography

  Interior Design and Formatting:

  Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable

  Something inside me

  Guides me down a desolate road.

  Leading to somewhere.

  Leading into the unknown.

  Nothing but darkness.

  All, all alone.

  Terrified to be found.

  Fucking fearing the end.

  Still, I make my way down that road.

  Clutching onto the hope

  Of reaching you one day.

  It’s all I have to hold onto

  Until I get to you again.

  “HEY, CAN WE TALK FOR a minute?” Lila, my adoptive mother, asks as she sticks her head into my room.

  “Yeah, sure.” I close the notebook that I scribble my thoughts and lyrics into. “Is something wrong?” I ask as I scoot to the edge of my bed and lower my feet to the floor.

  She shakes her head as she walks into my room. “No, honey. Nothing’s wrong. I just want to talk.” She sits down beside me. “You’ve seemed kind of quiet at dinner lately, and with everything going on . . .” She sighs. “I just want to make sure you’re doing okay with everything.”

  “I’m fine,” I say, hoping I don’t sound as guilty as I feel.

  The truth is, a ton of shit is wrong, more than she realizes. Not only have the police found no new information on where my sister, Sadie, is, but I also have an officer following me around twenty-four seven. While I’m grateful they’re protecting me, I’m not sure what the hell I’m going to do when Monday rolls around, and I have to go to my therapy appointment. Hopefully, I can think of a good excuse as to why I’m going to a doctor’s office; otherwise, I won’t be able to go through with my plan.

  “I know but . . .” Lila mulls something over while staring out the window where the stars and moon have taken over the sky. “You just seem a little different lately.” She looks at me, worry lines creasing her eyes. “Ethan and I are worried you might be holding stuff in, especially after you found out about your dad . . . And that letter you got the other day . . .” She shudders. “I know it has to be hard for you.”

  The letter that arrived in the mail the other day was addressed to me. Fiona was the one who collected it from the mailbox. Thankfully, Lila got a hold of it before anyone else did, noted the lack of a return address, and handed it over to the police. While I don’t know what the contents of the letter are, I’ve noticed I’m being watched more closely, so I’m guessing it was another threat.

  “Sweetie, I just want you to know we’re not going to let anything happen to you.” Lila pats my leg. “Your father . . . these people . . . they’re not going to get ahold of you.”

  I do my best not to think about the father I never knew, and if he really is part of the evil group who once kidnapped my siblings and me and who still has my sister. Because, if I think about him too much, then I start thinking about everything. And the more I analyze everything, the more I get dragged back into the darkness I let own me for too long. And I don’t want to be stuck in the darkness anymore. I realized that when a member of the Soulless Mileas lured me into the woods. I thought I was going to die out there in the dark, by myself, haunted by my fears I never overcame. When I didn’t die, I promised myself no more being afraid.

  No more fear.

  Only fight.

  Forever and ever.

  No matter what

  I’ll fight until the end.

  Lila sighs at my silence, her shoulders slumping forward with disappointment. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”

  My stomach twists with guilt. It’s like she knows what I’m going to do.

  I shake my head. No, if she knew what I was up to, she’d put a stop to it. “I’m okay. I promise. I’m just a little caught up with graduating and stuff. There’s a lot going on.”

  She smiles. “I still can’t believe you’ll be a high school graduate in just a few days. It seems like only yesterday we were bringing you home.”

  “Two years has gone by kind of fast, hasn’t it?” I realize the truth of my words.

  With all of this crazy shit going on with the Soulless Mileas, I haven’t had time to step back and think about how quickly time flies. In just a few days, I’ll be out of high school, and I have no clue what I want to do. Most of my time has been spent trying to find my brother and sister. My search for my brother ended painfully with the police finding his body near my old childhood home. They believe the Soulless Mileas played a role in his death, but since they can’t track down any of the members, no one has paid for taking his life.

  “It has gone by pretty fast. Too fast, at least for me.” Her eyes tear up, and she unexpectedly throws her arms around me. “I’m so proud of you. You’re such a strong, good person, Ayden. I’m so lucky I get to have you as my son.”

  I pat her back, not feeling as uncomfortable as I used to when she hugged me, but hugging is still out of my comfort zone. “Thank you . . . For saying that. It means a lot to me.”

  “I’m just saying the truth. You’re an amazing person, Ayden Gregory.”

  I wonder how my graduation conversation would’ve went if my birth mother hadn’t handed us over to those horrible people, if she were still alive, and my brother and sister and I were living with her. Would I even be graduating? Would I have ever truly felt what it was like to be loved and taken care of? I want to say yes. I want to believe my life with her wasn’t all bad. And maybe it wasn’t. There were some good moments that the four of us shared, but most of the good was lost in a sea of yelling, abuse, and neglect.

  By the time Lila and I pull away from the hug, my eyes are burning with tears. I don’t want to cry. I’ve been doing too much of that lately in the privacy of my room, whenever I think too much or when I have a nightmare about the past.

  Lila dabs her eyes with her fingertips, wiping away smeared makeup. “Well, I just want you to know I’m here if you ever need to talk.”

  “I know,” I say. “And I appreciate that, but I promise I’m just a little distracted by school and stuff.”

  “All right.” She rises to her feet and reluctantly leaves the room.

  The moment she shuts the door, I grab my pen and notebook and get out the clusterfuck of thoughts crammed inside my head. I hate lying to Lila—hate lying to anyone—but if I’m ever going to end this—fight until the end—then I need to go through with the experimental amnesia treatment. Hopefully doing so will bring back enough of my memories that, at the very least, I’ll be able to positively identify some of the people who took me and my siblings over four years ago.

  I just hope remembering doesn’t break me again.

  I won’t let it pull me down.

  I won’t give in

  To darkness.

  Drown me all over again.

  I’ll fight and I’ll fight and I’ll fight

  Against the rapids.

  Against the terror.

  I’ll never surrender.

  After I finish jotting down my thoughts, I put the notebook in my nightstand. Writing usually calms me, but I still feel restless as hell. I need answers. It’s driving me fucking crazy not knowing what’s going to happen next—what the Soulless Mileas next move will be.

  I sit down at my desk and turn on the computer screen. With a few clicks of the mouse, I open a webpage filled with information about the group. I scroll through the updated pages and read a more current post. Lately, there’s been a lot of rambling about sacrifices. It makes me
really damn anxious and worried that Sadie is their sacrifice—worried I could be too if they get their hands on me.

  “The sacrifice isn’t just about giving up what we want,” I read a section of the article aloud. “It’s about giving up what we love. It’s the ultimate sacrifice and the aftermath will cleanse our souls.”

  A chill slithers up my spine. Was it my father who wrote this? Is that what we are to him? His sacrifice to cleanse his soul?

  I shake my head, anger blasting through me. Fuck him. He doesn’t love us, no matter what his twisted mind thinks.

  No matter how much I want to be strong, though, the pain of what my father has done nearly kills me every time I think about it. The air is strangled from my lungs, making it difficult to breathe. I need to remain calm, stop stressing, and give myself a few hours to forget about all the shit going on in my life.

  Only one other thing can calm me down when I’m this worked up. Or one person, anyway. Lyric Scott, my best friend, my girlfriend, my everything really. I don’t even care if I sound cheesy. Lyric is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, besides being adopted by the Gregorys.

  After I slip on my boots, I go downstairs to the kitchen.

  Lila is standing in front of the stove baking something that smells heavily of cinnamon, and Ethan is sitting at the table sorting through some papers for work.

  “Can I go over to Lyric’s for a while?” I ask as I grab a can of soda from the fridge.

  Lila looks up from the pan, hesitation written all over her face as she exchanges a look with Ethan. “It’s kind of late, don’t you think?”

  Ethan glances at the clock. “It’s only nine.”

  Lila glares at him. Clearly, that’s not what she wanted him to say.

  I pop the tab on the can. “It’s just next door, and there’s an officer parked right outside . . . But if you don’t want me to go, then I won’t.” The last thing I want is to stress her out.

  Ethan shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s that big of a deal,” he says to Lila. “And you can’t keep him locked up forever. He’s eighteen years old.”