Panic was about to set in, but instead, she was oddly calm. “I can’t seem to remember your name.” Jill held her fingers to her temples, trying to relieve the dull the ache in her head.
“Remy, darling, Remy,” the woman said with a chuckle. Remy placed a stack of the most delicious-smelling pancakes in front of her with a piping mug of coffee.
“Oh, yes, Remy. Of course,” she wanted to sound sure, but it came out uncertain. Admittedly, the name did sound familiar. It came out of her mouth in a familiar way, and the friendly smile didn’t seem foreign. Jill ate in silence.
“We have lots to do this morning, my dear. Are you ready?” A familiar voice spoke came from behind her. She turned her head to see Rocco walk into the kitchen. He placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed the top of Jillian’s head. The slight panic that lingered somewhere within her vanished.
“Yep. Just finishing up.” She took a last mouthful of pancakes. “God, Remy, these are divine,” Jill mumbled, her mouth full.
“Oh, darling, you always say that,” Remy squeezed Jill’s hand affectionately as she removed the empty plate.
Rocco had poured himself a glass of juice and was waiting by the kitchen door for Jill. “Ready?” he asked with a smile.
“Yep.”
Jill followed Rocco up a slightly familiar staircase to the white room that held the second staircase and then into the laboratory. Today, the weather was awful. From the floor-to-ceiling window, she saw as well as heard the raindrops clank angrily against the windows. She could see the furious waves crash against the seawall and the lightning sporadically light the sky. She shook at the eeriness of the view.
“Are you okay?” Rocco asked from the other side of the room.
“Never been a fan of the rain.” She turned her back to the window and faced Rocco as Josef was walking in. “In school, a lot of girls would hate going to class on rainy days, and they’d say it was the perfect sleeping weather. Then in college, my friends would say it was cuddling-with-a-man weather. To me, it’s shit-our-shelter-is-going-to-fly-away weather.” She shrugged.
“I suppose it is impossible to let go of all those years on the island.”
“No. Those years will always be part of who I am. Part of who we are. The impact of those years is probably why Oliver can’t stay in one place for too long, why Alexander turned to drugs all those years ago, and why I can’t seem to keep many permanent friends. It was such a different upbringing. It was hard to adjust to the real world, and rainy days like these bring me right back to the island,” she said, turning back around and getting lost in her thoughts.
It was over twelve years ago, and she was barely twelve years old. It was a rainy day on Onion Island. A rainy day on Onion Island was not the same as a rainy day at Rocco’s mansion. For that matter, it wasn’t like a rainy day anywhere in Texas. On the island, palm trees looked as if they would break in half like nothing more than twigs. The wind howled. Literally, it howled, and the awful howl was so loud it was impossible to hear a person standing mere inches from you. The raindrops pelted against her skin. The wind would pick up the sand and hurl it back. It was sandpaper against their skin, sometimes causing welts on the skin where the sand assaulted. Alexander, Oliver, and Jillian usually curled up together under the hut to wait it out while the adults scurried to cover and secure things that couldn’t get wet.
Jill hated those rainy days. They were the scary days, and since Jillian and Alexander were usually in some sort of argument and giving each other the silent treatment, those rainy days together were met with hours upon hours of silence. Oliver would sometimes try to get the two to make peace, but both Jill and Alexander were too proud and stubborn to be the first to falter. So there was just silence, not that they could have had a conversation with the blaring wind. When they weren’t in a fight and there wasn’t lightning, they would play in the rain and see who could stand the cold pellets the longest. Helen wasn’t fond of the game and would huddle them together in the dry hut with the rest of the adults, well, as dry as they could get under a makeshift roof.
The memories of the rain weren’t all bad, but that last day, when they were saved, the rain was the cause of a yacht getting shipwrecked on Onion Island and rescuing them. That rain had caused her to become torn away from the only family she had ever known, and after that rescue, she hadn’t seen Alexander or Oliver for years, so, no, Jillian was not particularly fond of rain storms.
“Jillian, dear? Are you with me?” Rocco tapped her on the shoulder, bringing Jillian’s head out of Onion Island and back to Wonderland.
“Oh, um, yes. Sorry ’bout that. My mind wandered. So,” she drawled, “what are you teaching me today?”
“You’ve really mastered PRV these last few months, so I want to—”
“Excuse me?”
“What?”
“Did you say months? I just met you a few weeks ago?” Josef stepped forward. “Who is this?” Jill pointed at Josef.
“This is Josef, my brother.” Rocco seemed exasperated by having to explain this to Jill. ”You were so much better yesterday. You remembered everything. You hadn’t relapsed in weeks. Jill, you’ve been here six months. That’s why you’ve practically mastered—”
“Six months! Oh my God.” Jill looked left and then right. She started to walk towards the door, but Rocco took a step in front of her. She broke out into a cold sweat, and her heart started to pound. Rocco took a cautious step towards her, and Jill took one back. She felt like a cornered lamb. “I need to get out of here.”
“No, dear, you want to be here. Remember? We agreed. You were so eager. You forget sometimes, but you’ll remember soon. It’s okay, really.”
“Then why can’t I remember anything. I don’t understand.” Jill wrapped her arms around her midsection, bracing herself. Her eyes were wide, and she was looking for a way out.
“You have to think, dear. Of course you remember. You’re just confused.”
“No. No! I want to go home! I want to go home now! Where’s Alexander? I want to go home.”
Josef took another step forward with a syringe in his hand. “Get away from me!” Jill walked back, but the two men were now close and stalking closer. Her back was met by a wall, and there was nowhere else to step.”
“Should I?” Josef said to Rocco.
Rocco ever so slightly shook his head side to side.
“Get away from me or I’m going to scream! You’re that man who gets in my head. I remember. You threaten me. Get away from me!”
“Jill, honey, listen to me. You’re having a panic attack. You know where you are. I’m your father. You have to trust me. I would never hurt you. Come here, dear.” He opened his arms to her.
“No! Get away. I want to go home. Why can’t I remember anything?”
“Jillian,” this time he said it a bit harsher, no sympathy in his tone. “Come here. Take my hand. It will be okay. You’ll see.”
“Wh-what does he have in his hand? He wants to hurt me.” Jill was pointing at Josef.
“No. It’s just to calm you down. If you don’t want it, we won’t give it to you. In fact, if you want to go home, I’ll walk you out myself.”
Jill nodded in the affirmative. She was shaking. The confusion and the lack of memory were overwhelming.
“Okay then. Let’s go home. If that’s what you want, then let’s go,” Rocco held his hand out to Jill, who was cowering against the window, trapped by the two men in front of her. After a moment, unsure and unsteady, she reached her hand forward and Rocco took it. The fear began to subside. Her heart relaxed a little; although, she still trembled.
Her eyes were still wide, and one hand was still wrapped around her torso as if she were holding herself together with that one arm. “I want to go home,” she repeated, but this time with a lot less certainty.
Rocco gave Josef a nod, but before Jill could process what was happening, Rocco took the hand that he had gently held, jerked it towards him, and then held her so th
at Josef could quickly prick her with the syringe. She’d never stood a chance.
All she was able to yell before her eyes closed was “No!” Her heart rate completely calmed, and her fears left her body.
She became jelly in Rocco’s hand, and the last thing she remembered was Rocco and Josef speaking to one another, “We can’t keep giving her this…She loses more of her memory each time…Can be toxic…Wasn’t calming down fast enough…Won’t remember a thing when she wakes…Starting to think she doesn’t know anything.”
***
Jillian opened her eyes and stretched her arms up to the ceiling. She woke up, refreshed. Well rested. Ready to start the day. She sat up and took in her surroundings. Huh? She was slightly disoriented. Yesterday, she had had a lovely dinner with Rocco. They’d gotten to know each other, and she was about to leave, but . . .?
But what happened? Something was off. She stood from the bed and walked towards the bedroom door. She glanced at herself in the mirror by the bedroom door. “What the hell?” she whispered as she tugged on the white linen pajama pants and matching top. There were matching slippers in her size by the door. “I look like a reject from a Ralph Lauren catalog,” she whispered. It was a big change from the camisole and panties she normally wore. Her red hair hung loose, and her eyes were brilliant. She tugged on one of her curls, curiously. She was in desperate need of a haircut. She had definitely had a wonderful night’s sleep. Now, if she could just remember something about it.
She opened the door and went downstairs, making her way towards the kitchen. What was odd was that she walked as if she knew where everything was, as if this were not the first time she’d woken up in this house or walked to the kitchen. It was a strange kind of déjà vu.
“Good morning. How’d you sleep?” Rocco sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea.
What had she been thinking about? “Wonderful. Thank you. And you?”
“Oh, I’m a deep sleeper. I can sleep through an earthquake,” Rocco said.
“Me too. I suppose we have that in common.”
“Indeed we do.”
“So what’s the plan today?” Jill asked.
“We’re going to keep going with Psychic Remote Viewing or PRV for short. You’ve done so well thus far, but I want you to master it, so we’ll work on some more distant visions.”
“What do you mean?”
“First tell me this: what is the last thing you remember? Can you remember what happened yesterday?”
“Um, yeah. I was in school. You’re asshole brother threatened me to come over. I was so tired I fell asleep, and now I’m here. Wait. Jill stopped for a moment. “My memories are all jumbled. I think you’re right about the tiredness getting worse and worse every time. Why do I remember sitting in a room with you, and why does this PRV thing sound familiar.”
“Don’t you remember? You did fall asleep on Wednesday after your class and didn’t wake until Thursday morning. You agreed to start our training that day. It got late, so you agreed to just stay the night instead of having my driver take you all the way back home.”
“So today is Friday? And Alexander—”
“Yes. It’s Friday, and you called him. He knows.”
“Oh, well, okay then. Thank you for letting me stay the night.”
“It has been my pleasure, dear,” Rocco said, placing one hand on Jill’s shoulder as they walked together into the lab and towards the great wall of windows as Jill held her orange juice in one hand and a banana in the other. “Have you had any visions since your arrival?”
“Nope. Nothing. But I don’t normally have them every day. I can’t wait to learn to control my visions. This PRV thing, is it hard? These sporadic episodes can be so embarrassing.”
“Oh, I know. When I was younger, I would get them all the time. And they rarely occur when you are sitting at home alone. Nope. They occur when you’re in a room full of people or, worse, driving.”
“Oh no! Thank God that’s never happened to me. But they are embarrassing, yes, and it’s horrible, and then you have to explain to whomever is around at the moment.”
“You mean then you have to lie.”
“Well, yeah. Exactly.” This man, Rocco, her father, he understood her, understood her fears, her concerns, and hang-ups. No way could he be an evil man set on manipulating her. She remembered Paul’s concerns a few days ago, and it now seemed ridiculous. There was no way Rocco would hurt her. That conversation with Paul and the subsequent fight with Alexander was the last thing she remembered. It was vivid: Alexander and Paul in a small room. Paul scolding her for visiting Rocco. Then being tired but visiting Rocco anyway and sitting down for dinner . . .
Alexander was going to be angry at her for visiting Rocco, but he had been a complete jerk. He’d given her an ultimatum, thinking she’d choose him over Rocco. Well, I certainly showed him!
***
Jillian opened her eyes and stretched her arms up to the ceiling. She woke up, refreshed. Well rested. Ready to start the day. She sat up, put her feet on the floor, and took in her surroundings. Huh? She was slightly disoriented. Yesterday, she had had a lovely dinner with Rocco. They’d gotten to know each other, and she was about to leave, but . . .?
But what happened? Something was off. She stood from the bed and walked towards the bedroom door. She glanced at herself in the mirror right by the door. “What the hell?” She whispered as she tugged on the white linen pajama pants and a matching top. There were matching slippers in her size by the door. “I look like a reject from a Ralph Lauren catalog.” It was a big change from the camisole and panties she normally wore. Her red hair, which was way too long, hung loose. She had definitely had a wonderful night’s sleep. Now, if she could just remember something about it . . .?
As she was about to open the door, a hand wrapped around her mouth from behind her.
“Shh. I’m not going to hurt you, but you have to be quiet.” Her instinct to fight kicked in, and she was about to elbow the perpetrator in the ribs, but he pulled her back closer to his body, immobilizing her. She could only breathe through her nose, her chest rose and fell, and her heart thumped wildly. Definitely, she was on the verge of passing out from utter fear. The room began to sway, her ears popped, and her palms began to sweat. The voice from behind, just inches from her ear, whispered, “I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll let you go if you promise not to scream.” He continued holding her for a few more moments. “Promise?” Her options were bleak.
Just minutes ago, she’d woken refreshed but confused and completely unsure of her whereabouts, and now some man held her. Why? To kill her? To rape her? To save her? Who the hell knew? But she nodded because, really, what choice did she have? He loosened his grip just enough so that her wobbly knees gave way and she began to fall, but the man grabbed her by her upper arms and steadied her. “You okay?” She gulped, took a few deep breaths, and when she was sure she wasn’t going to pass out, she nodded in the affirmative. Once again, he released her but this time carefully and just enough so that she was able to turn around, slowly. Carefully.
Who she saw when she turned around did not make her feel any better. In fact, the confused state of the morning seemed to be the better option at the moment. Paul Black stood inches from her, dressed in black sweat pants that hung low on his hips, a black t-shirt, and black sneakers.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Jill asked, staring at the familiar, dark, penetrating eyes. She pushed back slightly and held her hand out at arms-length.
“Keep your voice down,” he said. “Are you okay? I’ve been looking for you for months. I had to follow a long paper trail to find this house. It’s not under Rocco’s or Josef’s names.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?” She stepped away even further, needing space.
“We need to talk,” he whispered.
“No way. You’re here for my father. You want to hurt him. I will not allow . . . Wait, months? Did you say months?”
; “Listen, I don’t have much time. Someone will be here soon if you’re not downstairs for breakfast. You’ve been here for about six months and—”
“What!” Jill yelped.
“You have to lower your voice.” Paul took two large steps towards Jill and covered her mouth with his hand. “We need to get you out of here.”
“You’re just using me to get my father.”
“If I were using you to get your father, I’d have gotten him already and not risked my life coming in here to try to save you.” He reached up and put a wayward curl behind her ear, but Jill swatted his hand away. “You have the wrong impression of me, Jill. I’m not who you think I am.”
“You’re goddamn right you’re not. I read your text message to Brian, remember? You never did give me an explanation on that. So I’m just supposed to sit back and trust you?”
“Shit. I definitely have a lot to explain, but I don’t have time now. Taylor can’t know I’m here. I have to make this as quick as possible, and I think I’m going to freak you totally out when I tell you.”
“Try me ’cause I’m not buying any of the shit you’re selling me until you tell me something that’s true.”
“Fine.” Paul reached into his pocket and took something out. “This,” he pointed at a photo, “is my sister, Raquel.” Jill took the photo in her hand. She was looking at a beautiful woman who looked nothing like Paul. She was blond and fair skinned to the point of being almost albino-looking. Her eyelashes and eyebrows were blond, making the blues in her eyes seem almost clear. What was most noticeable and what she assumed was the reason he had shown her the photo, was the red scar that made her beautiful face look slightly disfigured. The scar began between her eyebrows up her forehead and then was lost in her hairline. As if he could read her mind, he said, “It continues up her skull to the nape of her neck.”
Jill looked up at him questioningly, so he continued. “Rocco and his brother used to experiment on children. I won’t get into the specifics now, but they were big on researching possible psychic warfare. They continued to reach dead ends. Most of their studies were government sanctioned, but the U.S. government didn’t allow them to perform research on children. Josef felt that the innocent minds of children would be the key to their success in finding out how to create psychics. Until that point, all they knew was that they, Josef and Rocco, were the only psychics. It was something they were just born with.”
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