by Loretta Lost
“That’s exactly the way they delivered the news to me. Like the penis loss took priority over the loss of life. Also, it looks like his heart was sliced open into sections, like someone was about to eat a mango. And there are a few pieces chewed up and spit out. This girl you hired is a cannibalistic assassin?”
“Wow,” I respond with wide eyes. My stomach clenches at the description, and I take a moment to process this, but then I nod slowly. “I’ve known Snow for years, but that is the best description of her that I have ever heard. A cannibalistic assassin.” My cannibalistic assassin. I hope she’s okay.
“Dude, have you gone off the rails?” Luciana asks. “This is… disgusting. Disturbing. Insane.”
“And what do you think he did to her?” I ask her angrily. “Why does he get to go around molesting children and leaving them with lifelong scars, and it’s suddenly disgusting if he gets treated the same way?”
“I’m sorry,” Luciana says softly. “He deserves it, of course.”
“Besides,” I tell her, trying to change the subject with science. “Did you know that human meat is actually the most nutritious meat for human consumption?”
Luciana blinks. “I thought you can get a lot of diseases that way.”
“Certain rare diseases. Most are cooked out or destroyed by stomach acids. But the nutrition profile of human meat precisely suits our nutritional needs,” I tell her with a sage nod. “I saw it on the internet.”
Luciana sighs. “I didn’t know that you and Sophie were friends with cannibals. Why didn’t you tell me that you had another person working on the investigation?”
“Because I didn’t. It’s hard to explain,” I say to her, with a shrug, unsure if Scarlett would want me spilling her deep, dark secrets to her boss at this moment. “Can we please go and see Scar, now?”
“That’s just the thing,” Luciana muses. “She was gone, and so was Zack. The detectives think they left together.”
“Dammit,” I mutter, closing my eyes. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that guy. What the hell did he do? Did he re-kidnap her?”
“It kind of seems that way,” Luciana says softly. “I’m sorry, Cole, I should have warned you about his intentions. He pulled a gun on me and made me fly to Michigan before we even knew Sophie had been taken. He said he had a feeling, or something like that, but he also wanted to try to win her back.”
My eyes grow narrowed. “I guess I should be grateful,” I say, guilty that I didn’t have the same feeling. Or if I did, I didn’t have the gumption to listen to it. Or I was distracted by the stuff about my parents. “This is so messed up,” I mutter, running my hands through my hair. “This is not the way it’s supposed to go! How can he just do that—take her away from us when we’ve been trying so hard to find her—not even let me know that she’s okay? That she’s alive?”
“Give him a break, Cole. I don’t think he’s so bad. They told me they found needles containing various narcotics and sedatives at the scene, so it is possible that Sophie was drugged. If so, and if he did take her against her will, we might have a problem. But I somehow don’t get the feeling he did.”
I have to keep my mouth shut, because I don’t want to reveal Snow’s identity. But if Snow had just murdered and castrated Benjamin, what would she want to do? She would try to run away from the situation. She must have run into Zack, and then... used him as a method of transportation to keep running away.
“You’re right,” I tell Luciana. “It probably wasn’t Zack’s fault. Maybe she convinced him to help her disappear. After this whole situation, I can understand her wanting to fly under the radar for a little while. And avoid the both of us—especially me.”
Luciana nods. “We can still treat this as a kidnapping, Cole. If you want me to? We can still have our team out there, looking.”
I shake my head slowly. “Maybe. But let’s give it a few days, Lucy. If Sophie doesn’t want to be found, no one will be able to find her. I doubt Zack’s as careful. But I am going to hunt her down. I am confident that I can find her.”
“And what are you going to do then?” Luciana asks me.
“I’m going to take care of her,” I say quietly.
“Wrong answer,” Luciana says. “The correct answer is ‘Text Lucy!’ And then you can take care of her. This is a sensitive situation and she probably needs more than just medical attention.”
I nod, wishing I could really confide in Luciana about the situation. Drugs, narcotic, bodily harm. None of that really matters, compared to the damage Scarlett can do to herself. I stare off at the wall, feeling helpless and wondering what I can really do. Does she even want to see me? Have I lost her again?
Luciana puts her hand on my shoulder. “I read her psych eval, when she started working for me,” she says softly. “I know there are potential issues, Cole, and I can tell from the look on your face that you know much more than I do. But she’s a tough girl, and I know she can get through this. Besides, she’s our cannibalistic assassin, isn’t she?”
“You knew?” I ask in surprise.
She nods and smiles. “I suspected. Don’t worry. Our Sophie won’t turn into a terrifying psycho killer, and I am sure she will get the help she needs. Let’s head over to the place she was being held, for now, so we can get a better picture of the situation. But just try to stay calm, Cole. Maybe Zack is being good to her. Maybe he’s exactly what she needs in this moment.”
“Maybe,” I say quietly. But I’m inwardly furious. All of my previous anger at Benjamin quickly transfers toward Zack. I know that if he touches her, I’ll kill him. If he says something to upset her, I’ll kill him. If he even looks at her the wrong way, I’ll kill him.
I already failed to kill Benjamin to save her, when I could have.
I have to make up for my mistakes, somehow.
Although, I have a feeling I never will.
Even if she forgives me—I will never forgive myself for this.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sophie Shields, 2016
Curled up in bed with the blankets pulled over me, I listen to the children playing in the streets below. Joy begged to go and play with them, although I am finding it difficult to let her leave my side, after everything. We are currently staying in the spare room of Zack’s sister’s place in Toronto. It is a lovely old house in a quiet residential area. There is ivy and moss growing over the brick exteriors of many of the homes, giving them a sort of rustic charm. Massive trees line the streets on either side, creating a whimsical shade for the kids to play in. The trees are only trimmed to allow the power lines to pass through them, between the telephone poles.
I can imagine this all clearly because I spend a lot of time staring out the window when I’m not huddled beneath the sheets. I spend a lot of time trying not to think about Benjamin. I spend a lot of time hating myself for what I’ve done to Cole, and missing him so much I can’t breathe.
Driving across the Canadian border was all a blur to me. I know we picked up Joy’s car seat, hair dye, and the morning after pill, but I mostly slept other than that. (Although, sometimes I’m not totally sure if I’m sleeping, or blacking out so someone else can take over.) I haven’t been able to do much of anything. I did take that damn pill, and dye my hair as soon as humanly possible. I am not sure why I thought that having black hair again would help me feel better. It worked the first time. But now, nothing can seem to make me feel better.
Nothing can make me feel like myself again.
I haven’t been able to eat. The only thing I have been able to stomach is my ever-comforting friend, coffee. And it’s impressively good coffee. Like, way better than the poison water I’ve been drinking back in the USA, almost to punish myself.
If I was addicted to caffeine before, I think I am going to give myself a heart attack with all these wonderful-tasting Canadian brews. I’m up to around eight cups a day, thanks to the magic of Tim Horton’s. Since we arrived at Zack’s sister’s house, I’ve just been drinking coffe
e and sleeping. That seems contradictory, but if you’re depressed enough, you can sleep through the best of stimulants. (Again, I’m not even sure if I even really sleep anymore.) The main problem with drinking coffee is needing to leave the spare room to pee. Sometimes, that involves me running into people.
Melissa Small is very nice—all she wants to do is sit and chat, but I can’t seem to squeeze many words out. Her boyfriend is also wonderful, and they have made multiple attempts to connect with me. I am sure they would have had much better luck trying to befriend a brick wall. I know I’m being a terrible guest, but I’m finding it difficult to perform basic human interactions. All I can seem to do is curl up in bed all day, stare out the window, and drink coffee.
Zack has been super understanding of my pathetic state. He has made excuses for me and told his sister and her boyfriend that I have been dealing with something. He’s also been taking care of Joy while I’ve been out of commission. I suppose it’s expected that I’m not feeling super energetic and extroverted after my experience of the past few days, and I need some time to rest and recuperate. However, I still feel guilty about being unable to be friendly—or sometimes, responsive at all.
Melissa has been incredibly sweet to offer us a place to stay, and has brought me warm, home-cooked meals along with some of her favorite books. I haven’t been able to read. All I can seem to do is shut my eyes to try and escape reality. I have no energy. I am somehow totally drained, all the time. I am sure the drug withdrawal is a factor, but I feel like it is mostly in my head.
I should feel happy that Benjamin is gone, but I just feel sick.
Learning about Joy’s existence has crushed my spirit. Keeping the knowledge of her from Cole is crushing me even more. Every minute of every day, my hands ache with the desire to just pick up the phone and call him. But I can’t bear to see the pain and disappointment on his face.
When Zack enters the room and crawls into bed beside me, I sigh and allow my body to sink back against his. He holds me comfortingly, kissing my shoulder.
“You okay, Soph?” he whispers.
“Yes,” I mumble. “Sorry I couldn’t join you guys for dinner.”
“It’s okay,” he says gently, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“Does Joy seem happy?” I ask him softly. “I could hear her playing outside.”
Zack pauses, hesitating before answering. “Sure. She’s doing well.”
“I’m glad. It’s good that we came to a nice neighborhood where there are kids her age. She deserves to have fun and play outside.”
Zack nods against my shoulder with a sigh, rubbing his hand up and down over my hip. “Are you comfortable here, Soph? You never leave the room—you hardly eat. I am starting to worry, you know. My sister keeps mentioning some private cottage, on a lake, if you’d like a change of scenery. Something more tranquil and private, with some nature.”
“No, it’s nice here,” I tell him. Placing a hand on his, I sigh. “You’re all I need, Zack. You’ve been so good to me, so patient. I’m sorry I’ve been a mess.”
“You’re a beautiful mess,” he whispers, running his hand up over my body to caress my breasts. “You’re so beautiful, and I’ve missed you.”
For a moment, I feel nothing at all.
I lie there miserably, like a useless lump. It’s a familiar feeling. Total nothingness.
It’s how I felt the first time Zack touched me. But I know how to make it go away.
Closing my eyes briefly, I imagine that Cole is beside me instead.
It takes a second to really convince myself.
I imagine Cole’s voice whispering into my ear. I imagine Cole’s scent, his taste, his embrace.
It starts small—just a little tingle in my midsection. Just a little warmth.
My body is a wasteland, everything burned to ashes and cinder. There is nothing left. But the memories cause a tiny spark. The faintest glow remains somewhere in the emptiness, reminding me that I am still breathing. Reminding me that there is still fire inside me. And I am still fireproof.
I can still feel. Even after everything, I can still feel.
I can still love.
I remember Cole, and all the kind words he said in my darkest moments. I remember how he made the world seem good again. As a pair of strong arms encircle me tightly, my corpse-adjacent body stirs to life. After feeling dead and listless for so long, I crave more of the sensation, and moan softly, pressing against him.
“Sophie, it’s been so long,” Zack says.
My eyes open, and it takes me out of the fantasy briefly. I feel a kind of panic seize my chest as the feelings disappear, and I am faced with emptiness again. No, I saw inwardly, trying to hold on to the memory. Tears gather in my eyes, and I try to conceal them by shutting them tightly again, and thinking of Cole.
“Zack, keep touching me,” I tell him, desperately. I just want to forget everything. I want to forget by remembering. I want to have Cole in my mind, in my heart, but not in reality.
I need to stay away from him so that I can’t hurt him again.
Zack has complied, and begun to remove my clothing, but he pauses.
I open my eyes, but he sees the tears in them and moves away from me.
“Am I hurting you?” he asks with concern.
“It doesn’t matter. Will you have sex with me?”
He doesn’t respond, and I look at him questioningly.
“I want to,” he says slowly, “but do you think it would be okay after everything Benjamin did…”
“That’s why I need it. To help me forget. Please”
He moves away from me. “No, Soph. I’m sorry. I want it to be about us, not just you using me.”
I place my face in my hands, trying to fight the urge to cry or scream. Most of all, I fight the dizziness and blurring of reality that threatens to take over. I don’t want to let Snow out right now.
I take a few deep breaths to calm down.
The little spark of warmth and life I felt stirring in me quickly disappears, and I return to feeling empty and dead. “Fine,” I say softly. “You’re right. You deserve more, Zack. You deserve better than me. I’m damaged goods, and I’m a murderer. Why would you want to touch me? Why don’t you just kick me out and leave me on the streets to rot?”
Turning away from him I press my face back into the pillow with defeat. I just want to sink into this bed with shame, and merge with the memory foam mattress. Forever. Because memory foam will never have to contend with memories like the ones I have.
“No, Soph,” he says, touching my shoulder, but I shrug him away.
“That’s not what I mean,” he pleads.
I wrap my arms around myself, and lie here, shaking. I feel cold and desperate for some kind of affection. Some human touch. Maybe I just need a distraction to soothe the pain and erase the memories. To help me heal.
Maybe I should take up drinking, and drink myself into oblivion.
Maybe you should just throw yourself off a cliff.
This cruel voice inside me causes me to flinch. It’s not Snow. She would never say something like that to me. But it’s a familiar voice, one I have heard many times over the past few days. One I have heard many times over the years, and in my youth, when I’ve been tempted to kill myself.
You deserve to die, Serena. You are a murderer. You killed your first child, abandoned the second. You deserved everything Benjamin did to you. All of it, and worse.
Joy is better off without you. You’re a piece of garbage. Zack is disgusted by you, and he won’t even touch you anymore. You don’t deserve his love.
And most of all, you don’t deserve Cole.
You don’t deserve to ever see him again.
After what you’ve done?
The world is better off without you. And you’re better off dead.
The harsh words cut into me, like metallic splinters. It causes me to tremble as I accept the truth of the words. I know that I’ve
brought so much awfulness into Cole’s life, and even Zack’s. What am I even doing here?
Stop this, says Snow’s voice, strong and determined. Don’t ever blame yourself for the things I’ve done, Serena. I’m the killer, not you. And I had to do it, to save you. Because I love you more than life itself, and you do deserve that kind of love.
I smile sadly, still feeling the empty ache in my chest. I place my hand over my ribcage, trying to make sense of all this pain. Snow, I wish you weren’t part of me, so I could ask you to hold me right now. I wish you were a separate person, with your own body.
And my own penis? I wish that, too, sometimes. But I would probably just cut it off and eat it.
A small burst of laughter escapes my throat.
“What?” Zack says. “What’s wrong?”
“Inside joke,” I say softly, grateful to Snow for making me smile.
See? We’re okay. Just have to laugh it off.
You just need time to heal, Serena.
And plenty of coffee and sleep.
Just coffee and sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Zachary Small, 2016
Closing the door to Sophie’s room softly, I sigh and move to walk down the stairs. My footsteps are so heavy that I am surprised the stairs don’t crack under me.
“Is she going to be okay?” Melissa asks me.
I shake my head slowly. “No fucking idea.” When I left, Sophie was already in some kind of trance again, completely unresponsive to anything I said or did. Sometimes, she mumbles quietly to herself, to the voices in her head, but she doesn’t seem to notice me much.
My sister looks at me with pity. “Is there anything I can do to help? Seriously, Zack—anything at all.”
I am about to respond when I feel a vibration in my pocket. I pull out my phone to see that Luciana is calling. Over the past few days, I have missed dozens of calls from her. And from Cole. The same goes for Sophie’s cell phone, which I have kept away from her, in my car. I swallow, feeling guilty that I am hiding Sophie from her loved ones. But she asked me to.