Secrets Room

by Kim Faulks

  Felicity jerked her head up. Relief washed away the creases from her brow and resurrected her smile. Instead of twisting her hands, she clasped them to her chest and nodded. “I'd be honored to, Miss Rachel. I'll make you some, extra-special, and put them in the freezer so you can have them anytime you want.”

  Rachel nodded and dropped her gaze. “That would be lovely, Felicity. Now I'd best go and see what father wants. He doesn't like to be kept waiting.”

  The vision jumped forward by years, it seemed. She was older and colder. Gone were the child-like dreams of a different life. She’d learned to make do with the one she had. She sat across from her father at the dining table, the half-filled glass of red wine bloody in her hands. Her father ate ferociously. He stabbed the steak and sliced it with a quick slash of the knife before shoving it into his mouth. After he finished his meal he wiped his face on his napkin, threw it on the table, and sat back.

  “Are you not eating tonight, Rachel?”

  She shook her head and raised a shaking glass to her lips. Tonight she was celebrating and it had been a long time coming.

  “Do you know what today is, Father?”

  His brows creased, but still he said nothing. He stared at her instead.

  Rachel raised her glass. “To Mom, may she finally rest in peace.”

  Her father's eyes shined. Not with tears, but what looked like excitement.

  “Every year, I make sure that I'm too busy to think about her. Every year, I deceive myself into thinking that it was for the best. That it was better. I don't remember when she tried to take me away from you. Do you remember that day, Father? Do you remember the day you almost lost your two possessions? For that’s what I am to you, am I not? Just another fucking possession!”

  She drank the remainder of her wine and placed the glass next to her untouched meal. A laugh escaped as tears welled in her eyes. And he still sat there, staring.

  She smashed her fist down on the table. The silverware clanged. “Say something!”

  His silence said it all. Only not what she wanted to hear. She wanted him to care, even if was only a little. She accepted that he never would. Rachel pushed herself up from the table and gripped the edges. The room swayed.

  “I'm leaving you tonight, Father, just like Mom tried to do before you stopped her. But you won't stop me, not now. Legally, I'm old enough to be on my own and I know what I have to do. It's been six years since my mother died. And every year since then, I've wasted, hating her. Now, I wish that she'd taken me with her when she leaped from that window. I wish that I’d died, too.”

  Her father rose slowly and made his way around the table. “Why today, Rachel? Why not last year, or the year before? What has bought this change today?”

  He was so calm, controlling, condescending. She shook her head. She wouldn't fall for his games, not tonight. Tonight, she was strong. The room swayed but she lurched for the stairs. She needed to get to her room where her bag was waiting. She was getting out of here.

  “Why the change, Rachel? Tell me.”

  Rachel stepped around her father, moving fast. His hand wrapped around her arm and he wrencehd her back. Her hair whipped her face and her muscles tensed, but she fought. The stairs. Just get to the stairs. Rachel tore her arm from his grasp and ran for the steps, but the wine had taken hold, making her reactions slow. He grabbed her as she placed a foot on the first step. She screamed and lashed at him, catching him on his cheek. When his grip eased, she surged forward again.

  Her father roared and her heart beat furiously. Jesus, please help me make it. Thoughts of leaving were replaced with something more basic—survival. Rachel scrambled up the stairs on her hands and feet. She could hear him behind her. Please, please, please. Rachel's head was yanked back by her hair. The monster loomed above her. He bought her face back down on the marble stairs. Her skull cracked and something snapped inside her head. Rachel screamed. The shrill sound was cut off by her father's hand over her mouth.

  “Why today, Rachel? Why do this today?”

  She sobbed under his hand. Her whole body shuddered. He seized her arm, twisting her body until she lay on her back. His grip on her mouth eased. “Tell me why Rachel, why today?”

  The words were mingled with a sob. “Because… I'm pregnant.”

  His eyes widened and the slow hiss of his breath filled her ears. “Dear God.”

  He never moved when she slipped from underneath him and ran for her bedroom.

  He came to her room hours later and stood outside her door. She could hear him hovering. She wanted to say something and yet, she was unable to speak. Her tears spilled from her swollen eye as she sat on her bed in the dark, her bag still packed at her feet. Her father had never hit her before. He'd never so much as raised his voice. His dominance came from controlling every little thing, from the clothes she wore to the foods she ate. But he hadn't controlled this.

  “Rachel. I know you're scared, but I will take care of this, honey. I'll make an appointment for the doctor in the morning and I'll get this taken care of. This has to be handled properly. It has to be discreet. Rachel… Rachel, are you listening to me?” He growled against the door, but he made no move to enter. “The father is a kid you know. A friend you met online. Refuse to give any information about him and I'll stand behind you, I'll take care of it. Rachel.... Daddy loves you.”

  Her tears burned. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rocked silently, waiting for him to leave, waiting for all of this to be over. Mommy, why did you leave me? She lay down on the bed and pulled the covers under her chin. It was hopeless. There was nowhere she could go. There was no one she could turn to. He’d taken everyone away from her. She tried to close her eyes and pain tore through her head, so she stared at the ceiling and wished her life was over.

  When she woke in the morning, she was changed. Not just physically, although her head pounded and her chest burned from crying. Something had changed inside of her. In a way it felt like she did die. There was no worry, no anger or resentment. There was no life. Rachel Banks had died on the sixth anniversary of her mother's death. What was left behind was nothing more than a machine.

  Rachel showered, dressed, and stared in the mirror. Her left eye was swollen and dark. She looked like a Goth. She pressed her cheek and winced. No amount of make-up would cover the bruise. Her bag waited on the bed. Her decision to leave now felt like a dream. It wasn't real at all. She unpacked her clothes and stowed her bag away. She needed food and to find her father. There was much to discuss.

  The house was quiet when she stepped outside her room. Meal times were always a private affair, no servants or office staff were allowed in the dining room. The privacy was something her father insisted on. Rachel found Felicity in the kitchen. The old woman was elbow-deep in suds. She showed no sign of hearing Rachel when she entered, so she cleared her throat.

  Felicity turned at the sound and smiled for a second before she saw Rachel's face. “Dear Lord, what happened to you child?”

  Rachel didn't bow, she didn't break. “I'd like you to make me some eggs, toast with fresh orange juice, and fruit. I'll have my breakfast outside next to the pool.” Rachel turned to leave and then stopped. She twisted her head to look back over her shoulder. She'd never spoken harsh to anyone, especially not to Felicity, who had been the closest she'd ever had to a mother. Times had changed. “And from now on you will address me by my name. I'm not your child. I'm not anyone's child.”

  Rachel felt lighter as she walked away from the old woman in the kitchen. She was cutting ties, cutting off anyone who could hurt her again. She made her way through the house to her father’s study. By now, he’d be busy with appointments, but he’d make time for her. She knocked on the large oak door and waited for him to acknowledge before entering. He looked up as she walked in. His eyes narrowed on her face and turned to where the phone waited. “I'm going to have to call you back guys, sorry.”

  He ended the call and waited for her to close the door an
d sit, before he did the same. He shifted nervously. “I didn't expect you to be up so soon. I wanted to come and see you, I—”

  Rachel held her hand up, silencing him. “There's no need, father. It's okay. I wanted to come and tell you that I've made my decision.”

  “Decision?”

  “To stay. I'm going to stay here under your roof and live by your rules. I'll... be an obedient daughter, but I’m keeping this baby. I don't care what spin you put on it, I don't care what the press will say. But I'm keeping my baby and in return I'll keep quiet about everything else.”

  He waited. She could see his mind working, wondering how he could use this to his advantage.

  “And I want to not just live here. I want a place in your office. I don't care what my duties will be at first, I'll make your coffee and fix your sandwiches, but I want a chance to stand alongside you.”

  A smile ghosted his face. “Why the sudden change, Rachel? Last night you were so adamant that I was the monster.”

  The answer was simple. “Because I'd rather stay with a monster than run and be forever watching my back.”

  He stood up and walked around his desk. He looked immaculate in his grey pin-stripe pants and white, collared shirt. Not a hair was out of place.

  “I'm so glad you had a chance to think this over, and if you're determined to have this baby, then of course I'll support you every step of the way. I'll have to come up with something, but it can be done. Hell, it might even help my campaign.”

  Rachel nodded. She didn't care what her father had to do. There was no room for negotiation. He leaned against the desk and stared at her. “I've always wanted you to have a place by my side. We'll make one hell of a team.”

  He pushed off the desk and made his way across the room. She closed her eyes as his hand brushed her hair and slithered over her shoulders.

  “You don't have to make me coffee, or sandwiches, Rachel. You're better than that.” His hand trailed down her arm to fall against the edge of her skirt and her bare knee. “You’re Daddy's girl.”

  The vision jumped forward and left her lying in an expansive hospital room. Bouquets of flowers surrounded her. Stuffed pink bears and baskets of gifts filled the room, gifts from people she didn't even know. She looked down at the tiny bundle in her arms and felt something low in her body contract. Her baby slept. The little red lips and creamy white skin looked too perfect to belong to Rachel. Her baby’s nose was different, slightly turned up at the end, a tiny button, just like her....

  The door opened and her father walked through, closing it softly behind him. Rachel had never seen him so happy. He beamed and held out his arms. “My girls.”

  Her first instinct was to hold her baby close, to shrink the both of them from his touch. Her newfound instinct overruled and she smiled and held out her arms. “Congratulations Daddy. You're a grandfather.”

  She carefully handed him her child, wrapped up in pink, and sat back on the bed. Her body felt alien. The nurses said it would take some time to get back to normal, but breastfeeding would help.

  “Was the labor okay?” He sounded concerned.

  She nodded, “Yes, I won't be able to come back to work for a few weeks, but then I should be okay.”

  He stared down at her daughter. “Of course, I wasn't worried about work. That can wait. You take all the time you need. When did the doctor say you can come home?”

  Her gut clenched. “Tomorrow, if I feel up to it.”

  “Then tomorrow it is. I can't wait to have my two girls at home with me.” He held her daughter with one arm while he reached to brush his thumb across her cheek. “I've missed you.”

  She didn't know when it happened, but a tear slid down Rachel’s cheek, chasing the path of his thumb. It was just one lone tear. He wiped it away, and with a finger under her jaw, lifted Rachel’s face towards him.

  Rachel opened her eyes to the sound of crying, a baby crying? No, it was her child. For a second, she expected to see a hospital bed with flowers and gifts. Instead, she saw blood and flesh. She blinked and turned away, ending the sight of the black man's mutilated body.

  “Please, wait. Let's discuss this first?” Dee's panicked voice had Rachel pushing herself up from the floor. Her muscles twitched and her body shuddered. “I can't take any more of this... I'm dying in here.”

  And that's exactly how Rachel felt, as though she was dying. Like she had all those years ago when she woke and decided she’d keep her baby and stay with her father.

  “Rachel's awake now. Don't you think we should include her in this?”

  She turned to where Dee and Slade faced each other. Her daughter stood behind the woman as though she was protecting her.

  Rachel groaned and sat up. “What's going on here? Get away from my daughter.”

  Dee winced and turned to her. “What do you mean, your daughter?”

  Slade lifted his hand in her direction, but he spoke to everyone else. “See. The woman’s unstable. You can't trust her to make a decision.”

  Rachel stumbled towards them and reached for Bethany. Dee stepped in front of her. “Wait, Rachel. I’m not sure—”

  “Get out of my way. Bethany, Bethany!”

  Dee refused to move. Instead, she stared at Rachel, shaking her head. “She's not your daughter, Rachel.”

  They're trying to take her away from me. They're leaving me alone with him... “No! You're not leaving me alone!” Rachel felt her blood rushing through her body, pushed along by her thrashing heart, forcing her to react. She slapped Dee across the mouth. The impact burned her hand and left a welt on Dee’s face. The woman had it coming and Rachel felt no loss for the effort.

  “Mommy.” Bethany reached for her, whimpering in fear.

  “It's okay, baby. Mommy's here now. It's going to be okay.”

  “The bad man. He wants to hurt me.”

  Rachel lifted her gaze from her daughter to stare at Slade. She shivered as a wave of pure rage washed through her. “It's okay, baby. I'll make the bad man go away.”

  COLTON STARED AT THE CHILD-beast. Its crimson eyes imprisoned his. He was trapped, unable to turn away, while his heart thundered in his head. The beast knew that she held him here, to this moment. He could see her enjoyment in the glint of her eye and the curl of her lips. The horror of her words spread through his mind like an infestation.

  “A liar’s place will be in the fiery lake of burning sulphur. This will be your second death.”

  He tried to speak, but no words came. He swallowed, tried again, and stumbled. His legs were useless and weak. “Get away from me.”

  She didn't move. Instead, she smiled and followed him with her eyes like a predator fixed on a kill. “You're as stupid as you are pathetic.” The child-beast mimicked Morgan's words, and like the junkie bitch, her laughter soon followed.

  “Shut up.” His voice shook. He sounded pathetic. “You just shut the fuck up!”

  “Or what?”

  The child-beast shivered, slowly at first. Her skin rolled and rippled, and then the change began. Her body bowed in. Colton could hear bones snapping, grating, wearing away his will. Her limbs lengthened and her face changed. The color bleached from the room as the beast morphed into the blond slut, Jade. He shook his head and searched the corner of the room. Her body was still there, now bloated and festering in the heat. The smell was almost enough to drive him to his knees. She was very, very dead.

  “Or what, Colton?”

  His body jolted, as though he was trying to kick-start his heart, because all he could feel was cold death staring straight at him. The beast’s head was canted unnaturally to one side and the bones of her neck protruded out the other side, just as Jade had looked before she died.

  This wasn't real. Dear God, this isn’t real. “What are you going to do Colton? Are you going to hurt me?”

  He grabbed a fistful of hair near his temples, holding back a scream. This can't be happening to me. This isn't real. It's all just a dream. It's all just a dream...
.

  “Are you willing to bet your life on that, Colton? Are you willing to bet, when the monster comes to take you, that you aren't going to burn for eternity?”

  “Jesus!” He cried out and stumbled backward, overwhelmed by the sudden urge to run. But, there was nowhere to run. He spun, searching the faces of the others. “Please, someone help me.”

  No one heard him and if they did, no one cared.

  The monster stalked forward, following him. “No one can help you, Colton. No one can save you but yourself. It's time for you to make a choice.”

  “Get away from me or I'll....”

  “I'll what? Hurt me? Shut me up? Are you going to take me into that room and teach me to fear you, like you did all the others?”

  A curtain was wrenched aside in his head.

  Jade lay sprawled on the floor, her blond hair fanned out above her naked body. The lights above illuminated enough for him to know that this was his room and his house. The richly-scented air was a familiar mixture of sweat and sex. The blood... the blood on his hands was hers.

  Back in the filthy, over-heated room, he stared at Jade. His gaze widened. His breaths came hard and fast while his memory came back to him. The dinner. The drive... the torture, everything. He exhaled, and when breathed again the air cut like shards of glass. His lips trembled and he shook his head. “You're dead. I killed you.”

  Jade chuckled. “You're as stupid as you are pathetic. A stupid, stupid boy and I don't have time for stupid boys. Wake up Colton, you're running out time.”

  Her silky voice changed, turning hard and sharp. As her voice changed, so did her features. Jade's head straightened and the bones protruding from her neck withdrew.

  Colton whimpered and shook as Jade morphed. Her blond hair disappeared, replaced with a rich, auburn bob that skimmed the top of her shoulders. Jade's wide cheekbones became hard and angular. Her eyes darkened and sank, turning beady and cold. Colton tightened his fists and felt the sting as his nails pierced his palm. His heart exploded into an out-of-control beat. He clutched his chest and tried to cry out, but no sound came.