Worth It All (All #3)

by Marie Wathen

  A beeping sound, ricocheting through the air indicating that the battery on my cell is dying, fortifies my urgency to depart the underbelly of this fortress. I pick up my pace, retracing my steps. Muffled sounds halt me in my tracks. Someone is down here. I listen intently, and am relieved that what I hear is actual voices, but it sounds as though they are on the other side of the solid wall. How the hell do I get there?

  Out of nowhere, it hits me. “What do you find in every castle?” Swiftly, I hover the illuminated face of my cell over the semi-flat stones while smoothing my hand over each one, expectantly. Minutes later the light on my phone dims and I know I only have a few moments left. “Secret panels,” I utter with a smile after finding a loose stone. Pressing on it hard, the wall groans as a portion of it slides open. “Thank you, sweet baby Jesus.”

  I squeeze through the opening and discover another partially lit hallway. There’s only one torch at the far end and the voices sound much closer, but still muffled. The cell phone light drains the battery of its final power and I’m left depending on the glowing fire ahead of the darkness.

  Approaching the door, I notice a small window covered with bars and a bolt securing the door closed. I take the torch off the wall bracket and unlatch the hook from the eye, carefully thrusting open the door. Preparing to fight off a New York City size rat or, heaven-forbid, flying spiders, I extend the flame and swish it from side to side defensively, inspecting the tiny area. What I don’t expect to find are two unmoving bodies, covered in filth stretched out on the dirt floor. I see them, but my mind refuses to believe that I’ve found Waverly and Anna inside the deepest part of the Renaissance Castle, so close to home. So close to me.

  Is this another hallucination? God, I need for her to be real so damn badly. Fear owns me, and I can only stand here in shock. My whole body is trembling, and I’m scared to death that if what I’m seeing is true then I’ve found them too late. Finally and with every bit of strength I can muster, I step closer, my heart beating wildly. I don’t dare breathe as I kneel down beside an extremely pale Waverly. She looks so fragile, too thin, and her sealed eyes appear to be set in deeper than I remember. My hand floats above her face, itching to smooth over her forehead tenderly, but I pause. I’m scared shitless that she’s another mirage.

  “Wav,” I whisper, my voice cracks and my eyes burn like hell. “Sweetness.” Please don’t be gone.

  “Mor…Morgan,” a weak, sweet voice sputters from the other side of the room. I twist around finding Anna’s eyes wide open, fixating on me. “Is it really you?” I nod soundlessly, and she lifts her body off the floor. “She’s…” Anna’s voice quivers, “She’s very sick, Morgan.”

  “But, she’s alive?” I ask optimistically, turning back to Waverly and finding my hand stroking over the side of her head tenderly. I cup her cheek and draw her lifeless face toward me. “My beautiful, sweetness.” Pushing a tear off my cheek, I tell Anna, “I’ve got to get you both out of here.” I glance at the wire running from her arm, up to a bag of fluids, and then to Anna.

  “We need to hurry,” Anna demands, reaching over and tenderly pulling the needling away. Then she rips a piece from the bottom of her shirt and wraps it around Waverly’s elbow diligently.

  “Are you okay?” I observe her standing and tossing the IV onto the floor. She pushes her hands through her hair, moving dirty strands away from her face. Even covered in dirt splotches, she is still so beautiful and appears quiet healthy. Thank God.

  “I am.” She smiles and nods weakly. “But Waverly needs a hospital.”

  With that, I thrust the torch at her and then bend over, picking up an exceptionally frail-looking Waverly. Holding her in my arms, I try being careful while standing up, but her head bobbles and then lands hard against my chest. I nuzzle her face into the crook of my shoulder and cover my chin over her forehead. Just having her back in my arms sends a thrill straight through my body all the way down to the deepest part of my chest, cutting right into my heart. “I have you, sweetness,” I whisper with my lips brushing over her cute little widows-peak.

  “I don’t know when Tox will be back.” My jaw ticks at the mention of his name. Anna shakes a little and stammers, “But knowing that we are still on Willow, he could return any time easily. He has a bad habit of popping in whenever he feels like it.”

  “That motherfucker,” I grumble furiously, “He better hope that he doesn’t appear out of thin air. I’m in no mood to deal with that lying bastard.”

  She smiles, reaching over and hugging my neck tightly. “Thank God you came, Morgan,” she cries softly for just a moment and then looks up at me with wet eyelashes.

  I kiss the side of her head and whisper, “Lead the way, pretty girl.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Breesan

  The room is eerily quiet. All five of us stare at the man, who acts as if he is in control, pulling out a leather pack and unrolling it on the floor in front of Wren and the other woman. He takes out a syringe filled with a neon yellow liquid. Ryske. Blackness threatens to take over and keep me from dealing with the reality that some really bad shit is about to go down. Refusing to play the victim again, I grab hold of my inner strength and fight to keep it at bay.

  Releasing his hold on me, Tox moves over to stand beside his father. “Why do you have Karenna and Katya tied up?” he asks his father. “What are you planning?” My mind swerves, like a racecar doing 180m taking a sudden sharp left turn. Karenna and Katya, those names are so familiar. I stare at the two women, one supposedly my cousin and the other, who looks a lot like her, before staring back at the woman who claims to be my aunt Cayde. Who are these people and what in the hell is going on?

  “Failure is not an option with me, Mattox,” he grumbles, removing another syringe from the bag. “You know this. Time for their punishment.” My breath tightens in my chest with fear.

  “How did they fail?” Tox demands loudly, glancing over at the two girls.

  His father rises and moves toward Cayde, handing her one of the needles. “We planned everything perfectly and we have exactly what we came here for now. Their jobs are eliminated and I can’t have loose ends.”

  “Wait,” Tox shouts, reaching for his father. He grabs his arm, holding the syringe. “They did their jobs. Don’t do this.”

  “You have no say in this matter.” He shoves Tox away, moving to stand in front of Wren, moaning around the gag over her mouth and pleading with her eyes while tears streak down her cheeks. “You’re just as much of a disappointment as your pathetic mother.”

  “What did you say?” Tox shouts back. “Don’t you dare talk about her that way. My mother adored you.”

  “Oh yes,” He laughs heartily, turning to face Tox. “I know.” He clears the remainder of the humor out of his voice, hardening it and staring down Tox, who looks as if he is ready to kill his own father. “However, just like these ladies, her task and significance to our plan ended. It distressed me terribly to finish her off so hastily, but she would have only gotten in the way.”

  “You killed my mother?” he demands, grabbing the lapel of his father’s suit coat and drawing back his other fist, readying to strike. “Why? How could you?” His jumbled questions fly out of his mouth angrily, “She loved you. Why did she need to die?”

  “She lost her focus,” his father says matter-of-factly, studying Tox suspiciously. “She thought that we could be together before the task was completed. That was never the arrangement. Her role was to watch over the girl and then turn her over to us. She became impatient.” He pushes Tox away. “She called you in to kill Breesan, and you failed son, just like your mother. Such a disappointment.”

  A tingling sensation rushes from my mind, over every inch of my flesh and down into my gut. I glance from face to face and as if I were watching a movie reel of my life, a deep-hidden consciousness clicks on like a light switch in a blacked-out tomb. The puzzle pieces slide together revealing all the answers that I’ve been searching for concerni
ng not only what has been happening over the summer, but my entire life.

  “I trusted you,” I scream, moving closer to Tox. “You’re Julia’s son!”

  Both men swivel around to face me. “Beatrice, shut your stupid mouth about shit you don’t know. Better yet, get the fuck out of here,” Tox bellows, reaching out and grabbing my arm. He shoves me toward the door, but his father cuts us off, blocking the exit.

  “Beatrice?” his father asks, scanning my face and then roaming his eyes over my clothing. “You’re…Beatrice?” He stares deeply into my eyes and then laughs almost demonically, echoing scarily off the hollow dungeon room. Turning to Tox he says, “Fucking, Christ, you did it.”

  “No.” Tox’s watches his father who continues observing me curiously, like he’s also solving a mystery. “Dad, she’s an employee at the club and no concern of yours,” he dismisses his father’s psychotic rant and to me, he instructs, “Find your way back upstairs, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “No,” his father demands rather loudly, “She stays.” He takes my arm and I jerk away from his sweaty palm, stepping backward and preparing to fight for my life.

  I growl, “Don’t touch me, you sick bastard. Who the fuck are you?”

  “Beatrice,” he soothes, strolling toward me and I continue retreating, deeper into the dark room. My back bumps into something and I turn around to find that I’ve moved over to where he’s strapped Wren to the chair. Her eyes are nearly bugging out of her head, as if she’s seeing me…the real me. “You can’t leave,” he continues, “As a matter of fact, you are never getting out of this room.”

  “Dad,” Tox warns, but his father ignores him, so he shouts, “Declan, she has nothing to do with this. Let her go now and we’ll figure out what our next step is…”

  “Mattox, don’t you see?” Declan asks sharply, cutting him off and turning to look at his son. “She is the key.”

  Unfortunately, you are the key to everything I want, Julia’s voice resounds loudly in my head.

  “No,” Tox demands crossly, moving over to block him and insisting, “She is nobody.”

  “Wrong, son,” he coos with a sadistic grin plastered on his face. “I don’t know how you did it, but you have delivered her to me. Look.” He points accusingly, like he can see the real me, too. How could Tox’s father possibly know who I am?

  A part of me stands in this room, suspended in Declan’s allegation while the other floats toward a mental collapse. To survive, I must be stronger than ever before. I must rely on myself to keep it together. And I refuse to let Declan and Tox, or anyone else for that matter, hold the remote-control to my mentality again.

  “You’re mistaken on what you think you are seeing. This girl knows nothing and just moved here from central Alabama. She is Beatrice Bentley,” Tox defends sternly. He continues to focus on his father with me standing closely behind. Interestingly enough, he doesn’t even look at me to inquire about his father’s claims.

  “Ah yes, her stage name while working at your club,” Declan explains, waving a hand toward me. “We’ve known who she is, but haven’t been successful on getting her away from her team of guardians. Brilliant job, son, getting her to trust you and having her follow you down here. Beneath that ridiculous garb that she calls clothing is our little goldmine and your aunt Casandria’s daughter.” I freeze. Still staring at me, he says proudly, “You don’t know how happy I am to finally meet you, Breesan. Let me introduce myself.” He moves around Tox and grabs my upper arm, staring deeply into my eyes. It isn’t his tight grip that holds me captive. It is his words. “I am your uncle Declan and you, my dearest, are as beautiful as your mother was at nineteen.”

  “My God,” I gasp, placing the name in my heritage. “You’re my father’s brother.”

  “Your dead father’s brother,” he corrects with an evil laugh.

  ***

  Anna

  Thunder rumbles and I feel it vibrating against the cool stones beneath my bare feet. “A storm’s coming,” Morgan states the obvious trying to cut the tension. Perhaps he’s doing it for me, but I think he needs it just as much.

  I stare at him, like he’s a mirage, an image that will fade away any second, right before my eyes. This is really happening, I reassure myself, before asking Morgan, “Can you get us out of here alive?” I haven’t been this afraid in a very long time and seriously need him to tell me that everything will be fine.

  “Follow the corridor to the end,” Morgan instructs confidently as we step out of the room that has held me and Waverly, for…I don’t know how long it has been since we were abducted. Even focused on that thought, I don’t miss how he ignores my question while avoiding eye contact. Terrified of what waits for us beyond this room, I trust Morgan with my life, especially after reliving so many memories that included him taking care of me. I know that he will protect us at all cost, so I obey.

  Carrying the burning torch, stretched out in front of me, I rush toward the door that I’ve seen Tox use numerous times. “Morgan, how long have we been…missing?” I ask anxiously, pushing against the heavy door and then scanning the next hall. I glance back at him for suggestions on which way to go that will get us back to the surface.

  “Go right,” he suggests, glancing around me. “And, how about we save all of the questions until after we get you out of here?”

  “Sure,” I reply before turning and walking quickly in the direction he recommended. “There are about a million things I need to know, and I will wait, but there is something you should know right now.”

  “Tox wasn’t alone in all of this,” he leads, like he read my mind, but before he can follow-up with an explanation a rumbling from somewhere close by interrupts him. “What the hell?”

  “Someone is here,” I whisper, freezing in place after hearing the loud, ominous voice. Panic begins to take control of my body as well as my mind. “Oh God, Morgan, they’re going to catch us.”

  “No,” he insist, bumping his elbow into me. “Keep walking and no matter what, do not stop until we are out of this damn place.”

  The loud, angry voice continues and I gulp on souring fear lodging sideways in my throat. Tears sting my eyes as I glance from the space where the shouting is coming to look at Morgan. The assurance displayed on his face encourages me, so I nod and flick away the wetness from my face, letting go of the victim role that I slip into so easily when things get tough.

  With a trembling breath, I straighten my back and then reply, “Okay.” Silently, we continue taking long, dark pathways and after what feels like an hour, I ask, “Are we going the right way?”

  “Yes.” He sighs and the sound reverberates into the darkness ahead, “Maybe,” I glance at him, close behind me, for clarification of that hopeless sounding response. “I hope so.” He adjusts Waverly in his arms and then blushing he states, “I don’t really know, Anna. Truthfully, I didn’t know you were down here. I actually got lost in this big ass dungeon and just happened upon you.”

  “If you weren’t looking for us, why were you even in this god-forsaken place?” Unlike the brewing storm outside, he stays silent for several moments, as we continue hunting for the exit. Frustrated, I sigh. “You can at least tell me that much.”

  Clearing his throat, he says hesitantly, “So much has happened lately that it will take forever for me to explain, but…I was here trying to find Breesan.” That makes me stop walking again and I stare back at him. “No,” he shakes his head and pierces me with a serious look. “Keep going and I’ll tell you, but I need to get you both to a safe place before I get into all the details.”

  Hurrying through the cold, lower-level of the castle, he gives me the cliff-notes version of the search for Breesan and just thinking about Tox finding her scares the living hell out of me.

  “He can’t find her first, Morgan,” I demand, stopping at the foot of the first staircase that we’ve come across. Turning to face him, I explain. “Tox wants her dead. He told me about some sick plan that his
mother made before she died and then how he was supposed to take Breesan after the shooting. Instead, she fought her attacker and he ended up only getting me and Waverly. He’s supposedly her cousin, Julia’s son.”

  “I know exactly who he is,” he confirms. “I’ve been helping Sam and Rhys in their secret investigation and told Marcus about him.”

  “Sam and Rhys? Investigation?” I ask, completely confused. “What?”

  He huffs, “See, this is why we need to wait until after we get out of here, Anna. The shit that I’ve found out is unreal and it just isn’t a good time to get into it. Now, if I’m correct, this staircase leads us up to the backside of the foyer. Please, let’s get out of this fucking castle and once Waverly is in the hospital, I will tell you everything. I swear it.”

  “You’re right,” I concede. “I’m sorry that I’ve been so selfish.”

  “Hey,” he calls as I begin walking up the steps, “I didn’t mean to imply that. Of course, you want answers. I get it, but,” his voice trails off and without turning back, I know that he’s scared that Waverly won’t make it out alive.

  “Come on,” I run upward and then ease the door open at the top of the stairs quietly. Light from the wall sconces flood this area so I hook the torch into a wall bracket hanging next to me. “We must be getting close.”

  “Yes,” he confirms, “Just one more set of stairs and we’re out of here.” Morgan was right. Another minute later, we enter the foyer and I turn the corner around the arched staircase, seeing the front door, which is standing wide open. “I’m pretty sure that I shut that when I came in, so maybe Marcus finally showed up.”

  Stepping outside, I ask warily, remembering Waverly’s warning about him being evil, “Marcus is here too?”

  Lightening streaks across the sky, immediately followed by a booming clap of thunder. A chilly air rushes up to greet me and any other time, I may duck back inside, but today I relish the natural occurrence. Tipping my head back, I smile skyward and thank God for answering my prayers for rescue.