Uncovering You 10: The Finale

by Scarlett Edwards

My back hits the wall. My damned hair keeps falling into my face. Fuck, but I should have tied it back! But Stonehart doesn’t allow for such luxuries. He likes it flowing and long…

  He takes another step toward me. “Lilly…” he begins.

  “No!” I scream. “Stay away, you monster! Stay away! DON’T TOUCH ME!”

  His dark eyes bore into me. I can feel the aggression behind them. The absolute depravity that makes him capable of rape after rape after rape.

  My vision spins. Sparks start to flutter in and out around the edges. They make me nervous. He makes me nervous, and he’s still not going away!

  I crumble down into a small ball in the corner of the room. I cower, terrified. Terrified of Stonehart, terrified of what he’s come here to do. I can’t stand another rape. I can’t. I cannot! I’ll go crazy if he touches me. I’ll lose my mind…

  The first seeds of darkness start to take root.

  I breathe hard. I sink lower, rocking on my heels. “No, no, no, no, no,” I repeat, over and over again. I close my eyes, squeeze them tight. The blackness beckons me. The blackness feels safe. I want to feel its embrace, to feel—

  Stonehart touches my shoulder. I scream and jerk away.

  He pulls back, like his fingers have just grazed the side of a scalding kettle. Frantic, I spin my head around, searching for an escape. My hair keeps flying in my vision. Damn thing! I should have shaved it off long ago, and let’s see how Mr. Stonehart likes me then!

  I see a spot. A hiding place. It’s small, but compact and close enough that I think I can reach it before Stonehart touches me again. If I hear the horrifying, ominous sound of him undoing his zipper, I’m going to lose it…

  With all the strength, courage, determination, and speed I can muster, I scuttle like a crab to that precious hiding spot under the bed.

  Relief. Relief washes over me when I reach it. In fact, it’s accompanied by something akin to disbelief. I made it past Stonehart, so fast that he couldn’t even grab me.

  I hear the door open and close.

  Cautiously, I raise my head. I look out from my protective cave.

  The room is empty. Stonehart has left?

  I frown, puzzled all of a sudden. Stonehart has never left me before getting what he wants. He never left me without taking control of my body…

  Pure terror grips me next. The only reason he would have left is that I’ve made him majorly pissed.

  And a Stonehart who is displeased with me?

  Well, he takes his punishment out in crude and unusual ways.

  My heart is beating so fast. I keep running a hand through my hair, over and over again, almost obsessively. I click my tongue and stop it. Damn bad habit, I think. I don’t know where I picked it up.

  I wait for my heartbeat to slow. My breathing calms. I feel more…steady. More sure of myself.

  Shit, I think. I shouldn’t have panicked. Why did I panic? I’ve dealt with Stonehart before. Nothing he does now can be any worse.

  Then realization—or maybe remembrance—hits me. Stonehart doesn’t like a weak woman. He likes one who’s feisty, who can fight back.

  I take a full, deep breath. I have no idea what’s gotten into me. I’m not a frightened mouse to hide under the bed. I am a phoenix, glorious and strong, waiting for my rebirth…

  …which I will have as soon as I have completed the five years of my contract. I have to get close to Stonehart. Don’t I? I have to get close to him to get my vengeance. That’s an oath I swore.

  So, with the memory of that promise pulsing through me with the strength of an oxen’s heart, I emerge from my pathetic hiding spot and sit on the bed as regal as any queen.

  I adjust my nightgown, smoothing out the wrinkles on the front. I feel an odd sensation between my legs. My hand dips underneath, and I find a pair of panties around my hips.

  Confusion grips me. The room spins again. Panties? But Stonehart prohibits all form of underwear! How the hell did these get there?

  As quickly as I can, I strip them off and fling them to the corner. I feel cleansed.

  I sigh in relief, smooth my nightgown once more, run a hand through my hair—catch myself doing it, chide myself for succumbing to that awful habit, and let my hands drop.

  I fold them in my lap and face the door to wait.

  Then I have a better idea. A queen does not sit waiting for her subjects. No, a queen expects. And I have to be a queen in Stonehart’s eyes.

  I can expect nothing if I’m angled toward the door.

  So I turn around and face the window, leaving my proud and exposed back to the doorway.

  Long minutes pass. I drum my fingers on my thigh.

  What’s taking him so long, I wonder.

  And then the door opens, and I smile. Ah, there he is.

  I turn—and am immediately thrown into an awful tailspin.

  There is not one Stonehart standing there…but two.

  I shriek and dive under the covers. One Stonehart I can manage. But a pair?

  Sobs overtake my body. I imagine all the vile things two Stonehart’s can do to me. I cry and cry and cry, awaiting the inevitable first touch.

  And all the while, I give way to that nasty habit, that filthy thing, and stroke my long, soft hair over my cheek again and again and again.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  I cower and wait. They do not touch me. They speak in hushed tones and eventually leave.

  I peek out from under the sheet. Did I imagine that? Was it yet another lie?

  Wait. ‘Another?’ Why ‘Another?’

  Sometime later—I cannot tell how long. My nerves are too frayed—the door opens again and an elderly woman comes in.

  I stare at her. I think, Rose? But, no. This is not Rose. Some memory, some inkling in the back of my mind tells me something happened to Rose. I do not know what. It does not seem important now.

  But the woman has a familiar face—even if I can’t say why.

  She does not frighten me, at least.

  “Miss Ryder?” she smiles at me. “My name’s Jill. Do you remember? I brought you food this morning.”

  I narrow my eyes at her, suddenly suspicious. I do not even remember eating.

  “What is this place?” I ask. I look around the room, expecting to find the marble pillar. But it’s not there. That throws me off.

  “This is the Hermann Grace Medical Center.” She smiles. “I’m a nurse. I’m here to take care of you.”

  “Take care of me how?” My hackles rise. “Where is Jer…“ I cut off. I remember it’s rude to call him by his first name. Especially to people I do not know. “Where is Mr. Stonehart?”

  “Mr. Stonehart is close by,” Jill says. “Would you like me to call him for you?”

  “No!” I yelp. Then I curse. If this “Jill” passes on information to Stonehart about my reluctance to see him…

  Well, that can only end in more punishment.

  “I mean,” I clear my throat, “I’m sure Mr. Stonehart will see me when he deems the time proper.”

  A bit of sadness shows in Jill’s eyes. I do not know why.

  “I’m here to give you something,” she says. She holds out a thick, pen-like device. “If you’ll let me?”

  I eye her warily. “Did Mr. Stonehart send you?”

  ‘No,” she says. “Dr. Telfair did.”

  Dr. Telfair. There’s another name that should ring a bell. In fact it sparks something in the back of my mind. But’s very vague, and much too hard to reach.

  However, for whatever reason, that name grants me no comfort. It’s a trustworthy name. A name I can rely on.

  Unlike Stonehart.

  “Okay,” I say. I hold out my hand. “I’ll take it.”

  “Actually,” Jill says, smoothly coming up to my side. “It’s something I have to give you.”

  And in a curt, stabbing motion, she jabs the pen into my leg.

  “You bitch!” I call out, and jerk up, away from her, the pen sticking out of my leg…


  Without warning, I stumble. The world spins once. My vision clouds, then clears, and then clouds up again.

  I close my eyes, feeling suddenly dizzy. I hold out a hand to steady myself. It finds the wall. A subtle pain works through my temples. I’ve forgotten all about my leg. I reach a hand to the side of my skull, just above my ear. My finger finds short, prickly hairs…

  I gasp in horrible realization of where I’ve been. My eyes pop open. I stare at Jill, who is looking at me with a worried, anxious expression.

  “Get Dr. Telfair,” I whisper.

  She runs out the room. I look down at my leg. It’s an auto-inject pen.

  Moments later Jeremy and Dr. Telfair burst through the doors.

  They both rush to me. Jeremy reaches me first. He wraps his arms around me. I hold onto him and cry.

  “I lost it,” I say. “I lost it, I lost it. I lost it…”

  “Lilly,” Dr. Telfair speaks. “We don’t have much time. The shot Jill just gave you will only keep you here for ten minutes. After that—after that, you’ll go back.”

  I cling to Jeremy and cry harder.

  “Sh, sh,” he murmurs in my ear. “It’s all right. You’re here now. You’re safe.”

  “W—why ten minutes?” I blubber.

  “It’s a variation of the counteragent I’ve given you before, but a much shorter ester. It’ll be out of your system quickly. I can’t give you anything longer acting, because we still don’t know how all the drugs might interact.”

  I break away from Jeremy and look helplessly into Dr. Telfair’s eyes. “So I’m doomed?” I say. “I’m doomed to be who my father was, forever?”

  “We don’t know that for certain,” Jeremy says. “There’s always a chance…”

  “But there’s not!” I wail. Full desperation has kicked in. “If the procedure failed, if I can’t be given the antidote…Oh, God, Jeremy! I remember! I remember everything that I thought was real. How I thought you were Stonehart. How I couldn’t understand why there were two of you. How I still thought I was bound by the contract, in the sunroom, with the pillar just over my shoulder…”

  I break off in despairing moans and start to cry.

  “I will fix this,” Dr. Telfair promises. “I will…”

  The world lurches once.

  I stagger back, off balance. When I look up, there are two Stonehart’s staring at me.

  Two Stoneharts, with evil intentions clear in their eyes…

  “No!” I screech, and stumble away. I grab my head, pulling at the roots of my long hair. “No, damn you! Stay away!”

  The Stonehart closest to me—the one with an aghast expression on his face—moves like a jaguar. He grabs something from his pocket and leaps on me. I squeeze my eyes shut and shield my body from him…

  Something pricks my leg. I gasp. I look down. I see a familiar pen protruding from my thigh, Stonehart’s hand wrapped around it…

  My vision blurs, then clears, then blurs again. I feel myself floating up for a second.

  Then the sensation cuts off. I open my eyes, and I see Jeremy, and Dr. Telfair, and Jill once more.

  Jeremy withdraws the auto inject pen from my leg.

  Dr. Telfair grabs him by the shoulders and spins him around. “Idiot!” he hisses. He sounds furious. “We don’t know how she’ll react.”

  “I’m here,” I say. “I’m…” I suck in a stuttered breath. “lucid.”

  Jeremy drops the pen. He clasps me tightly to him. “I couldn’t…” I hear tears in his voice. “I couldn’t let you go. Not yet. Not so soon, Lilly.”

  I stand there, pressed up against him, numb and shocked.

  In that brief moment of clarity, I see what I have to do.

  “Let me go,” I say calmly.

  Jeremy holds me tighter. “Never,” he says.

  I repeat myself. “Let me go.”

  My words are empty. They are bereft of emotion.

  They represent exactly how I feel.

  Reluctantly, Jeremy relaxes his hold. I step away from him and move toward Dr. Telfair. “How much time do I have now?” I ask.

  He shakes his head and looks gravely serious. “Not much.”

  “Is there more of the counteragent?”

  “None that I’m willing to give you. No.” He directs a disgruntled look at Jeremy. “This second dose could already have consequences…”

  “Then let me speak. Before I…before I start to hallucinate again.”

  He nods.

  “Jeremy. Doctor. I trust you two. I believe in you. I know that if there is a way, you will find it.

  “Jeremy,” I turn to him. I don’t move to touch him, or take his hand, or show intimacy of any sort. “I need you to make me a promise.”

  “Anything,” he swears.

  “I want you to promise to keep me here. Here, in this room, where I know I’ll be safe. Don’t—don’t come and see me. Not until your brother finds a solution.” Tears want to form in my eyes. I blink them away in anger. “When I’m—insane? You’re Stonehart. You’re only Stonehart. You terrify me. And I don’t—I don’t want to lose what we have. The memories, the good times, the—”

  I cut off. The love, I think.

  The world lurches.

  I turn around and vomit on the floor.

  The throw up gets caught in my hair.

  I’m alone in the dark. Here, I have no friends.

  But I have no enemies, either. Stonehart comes to visit me sometimes, claiming to be “Dr. Telfair”.

  I know better. But I let him pretend.

  He has not raped me once.

  And that’s all for the better. Every day that passes brings me one day closer to freedom. Closer to revenge.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  My brother listens to my request in silence. Then, he turns around and focuses on the computer screens.

  Lilly’s test results are displayed on the three-monitor system. Dozens of graphs display vital health markers. Charts show their progression over time.

  Atticus looks from one screen, to the other. I can see the stress lacing across his shoulders. It is not dissimilar to my own.

  For hours he’d been analyzing these results. For days. For weeks.

  For months.

  I watch him keenly, waiting on the answer.

  “No,” he says finally. He shakes his head and takes his glasses off. “No, I cannot do it.”

  No. The word crashes into me and steals the air from my chest. I feel like I cannot breathe.

  “Please,” I say. I try to be polite, to be cordial. But the tension is unbearable. My hands clench into fists. “I need to see her. I need to speak to her. Let me! She’s still in there, I know she is, I know she is, dammit!”

  “Jeremy.” Atticus looks me in the eye. I can see sadness in his. “What is the point? You’ll have her for ten minutes—and then what? By giving her a third dose of the counteragent, you risk too much.”

  “I can reach her,” I hiss. “Goddammit, Atticus, I know I can! Let me try. I’m going crazy without her.” I cast an angry glare at the computer monitors, mocking me in their bright serenity. “It’s been weeks and there’s no progress!”

  “She hasn’t regressed.”

  “Hah!” I give a scornful laugh. “You think that fucking counts? You think I can watch the woman I love be consumed by insanity and accept it?” My voice softens, and I take a menacing step forward. Anger is flowing through me, anger fueled by frustration and by lack of progress and by utter despair. “You think I can let her bury herself deeper and deeper into madness and not do a damn thing about it?”

  “The risks—”

  “WHO CARES ABOUT THE RISKS? SHE’S GONE EITHER WAY!”

  I catch myself yelling, and stop short. My chest is heaving. My nostrils flare with each breath. Adrenaline is pumping through me, and my self-control—the one thing I prided myself on for so long—has been torn to shreds.

  How can I last when Lilly is so far gone?

  “Jeremy…
”

  “No.” I shake my head, close my eyes, and take a step back. I breathe in once, summoning the icy calm and letting it wash over my mind. As it does, the cold dispassion I had to assume when I had Lilly prisoner comes over me again.

  I open my eyes and look at my brother. “I’m sorry,” I say. The words come out flat. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

  He dismisses it with a wave. “Jeremy, I know you love her. But you know that every time we administer the counteragent, the chance of it working again in the future is cut in half? You were lucky it didn’t backfire in the operating room when you injected the second dose.”

  I sneer. “Oh, just like your fool-proof procedure didn’t backfire?” I know better than to make an enemy of my brother now, but what good is holding my tongue when the stakes are so high? When my Lilly is fading?

  “You know that’s different,” Atticus says softly.

  I look away. “Yes,” I finally admit. “I do.”

  A cold silence sweeps in and fills the room.

  I walk to the window and look at the frosty snow outside. “It’s December,” I say. “You told me you would need a month after the operation to judge her prospects of recovery. I’ve given you four and you still haven’t told me.” I turn around and look my brother in the eye. “I’m no idiot, Atticus.”

  “There is still a chance,” he insists.

  I scoff. “A chance? How small? It’s miniscule. You know it, I know it—we both know it.” I turn my eye to the small computer screen, the one with a live camera feed of Lilly’s room. “God,” I whisper. “It kills me to see her like this. She hates me, you know that? It’s no less than I deserve, considering all I’ve done, but still…”

  I trail off. I’ve never expressed sorrow or pity before, not before another breathing human, not like this. But sometimes, situations of extreme stress call for extreme measures.

  For me, showing weakness—showing humanity—is one of such.

  I lock eyes with Atticus. “Please. Please, brother, I’m begging you. Grant me this one small mercy. Let me see her. Just once. Just one more time, that’s all I ask.”

  He meets my stare for a long, contemplative moment. As each second stretches the silence further, I pray to fucking God that my approach works.