Hannah reaches up and straightens my black bow tie. I decided to go with a full tux for tonight’s affair, just like mother suggested. I so wish that she could see Hannah and I together. From the second my mother and Hannah met, they were instant fans of each other. I’ve never seen my mother take so quickly to a woman in my life. She even look her sweet time coming to adore Andrea, come to think of it.
I shake away the thoughts of my mother and late wife the best I can. No use working myself up into a morose mood. I have people to rub elbows with.
Taking Hannah’s hand in mine, I step down from the annex steps and into the crowd. At once, well-wishers are surrounding us, offering their condolences and spouting off fond memories of Mother. I’m at once moved and irritated by their attentions. I wish that they could keep their memories in their own minds, rather than making me the conduit. I have more than enough to remember my mother by without carrying around the impressions of a hundred strangers.
Slowly, we make our way to the back patio of the estate. Thomas appears with a Manhattan in his hands with my name on it. As he hands me the drink, I lean into him and whisper, “Everything looking OK so far? The estate is secure?”
“No problems to speak of yet, sir,” the butler tells me, “I’m keeping a close watch, don’t you worry.”
“It’s my job to worry,” I tell him, “But thank you, all the same. Keep up the good work.”
I take a sip of my strong drink and catch Hannah peering up at me, inquisitively. Since we’ve decided to be open from here on out, I beckon her closer and say, “Thomas is keeping watch for any unwanted guests. Just to be safe.”
“Probably for the best,” she replies.
Thomas reappears with a vodka and cranberry for Hannah, which she eagerly accepts. Both our nerves are a bit more tightly wound than usual, and a couple of good stiff drinks can only help. Especially since these people will be expecting me to speak. Taking a deep breath, I raise my glass into the air and clear my throat. Dozens of pairs of eyes look my way, and I smile graciously.
“Thank you all for being here,” I begin, scanning the crowd, “Mother always said that she wanted to go out in style, and I can’t think of anything more stylish than you lot.
Gertrude Roth was my mother, but she was also my friend and confidante. Though we weren’t as close in her later years as I would have liked, our love for each other was steadfast. She was, in truth, the most amazing mother I could have ever asked for. I feel honored to have known her, and to call myself her son. Mother, wherever you are, you still know how to throw an excellent party. We all love you dearly. To Gertrude.”
“To Gertrude,” the crowd responds. In unison, the assembled parties raise their glasses to their lips in a moment of silence.
“No, go forth and drink, enjoy yourselves” I tell the guests, “It’s what Mother would have wanted, above all.”
A swing band begins to play as I step down from the patio, Hannah’s hand wrapped up in mine. I don’t think that I can handle one more small talk conversation.
“Want to take a walk?” Hannah asks.
“Oh, absolutely,” I tell her.
Hannah links her arm with mine, and I lead her across the grassy lawn. I smile politely at guests as they make their way inside to gnaw on tiny appetizers or whatever else it is they have in mind. The high hedges of the garden loom up before us. It was father’s idea to create this sprawling maze of paths and greenery. And right at this moment, I’m glad to have a place to lose myself with Hannah. I steer us toward the garden, and sigh as we enter into the quiet space.
“You know,” Hannah says in the sudden quiet of the maze, “I’ve never explored back here, but I feel like I’ve been here so many times before. Do you ever get that feeling?”
“Sometimes,” I tell her, “When I’m with you, I do.”
“What do you mean?” she asks, looking up at me in the dim moonlight.
“It feels as though we’ve known each other forever. Lived an entire life together. Even though we’ve just met,” I say, smiling. “Now, how in the world is that possible?”
“Who knows?” Hannah sighs, “I’m through asking too many questions. Amazing things keep happening to me, whether I understand them or not.”
“Amazing?” I echo, “I’d choose another word, myself. Tragic. Traumatic. Dangerous.”
“Meeting you was amazing,” Hannah asserts, “Whatever else has led up to it, it doesn’t matter. I’d happily go through it all again if it means that I end up here beside you. The past can’t hurt us, Lukas.”
I smile sadly down at Hannah. I want to tell her that she’s wrong, that of course the past can hurt, more than anything can. But she looks so happy, holding onto my arm in the moonlight. Our lives are sure to get a lot scarier very soon. I might as well let her enjoy this moment.
“Come on,” I say, “I want to show you my favorite place in the entire garden.”
“Where’s that?” she asks.
“We have works of art scattered throughout the space,” I tell her, “Things that my father collected over the years. There’s one piece in particular that I’ve always adored. I think that you’ll like it too.”
I pull her down green corridors, the sounds of the party dying away behind us. Hannah hurries to keep up with me, trusting me to lead the way. It’s a trust I never intend to betray.
“Here,” I say, as we round one last corner. Before us, glinting in the light of the moon, is the statue of Persephone that my father brought home from Europe so many decades before. Though her body was once copper, the daughter of a goddess has turned a bright bluish green over the years. Her story is terribly sad, but she’s always been my favorite company here at the estate.
“What do you think, Hannah?” I ask, “Isn’t she beautiful?”
Hannah is speechless beside me, staring up at the statue as if recognizing an old friend. I take her silence to mean that she’s moved. I don’t blame her. We stand there together and take in the tragic figure before us as the crickets’ song swells all around in the night. A perfect moment amid so much chaos.
Chapter Thirty
-Hannah-
“She’s...incredible,” I whisper, staring up at the statue. My eyes travel up and down the length of her perpetually youthful body. Where have I seen her before? I notice the shackles on her ankles, tethering her in her flight. “Why is she bound?” I ask. “Are you trying to suggest something new for us to try?”
Lukas lets out a surprised chuckle. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Miss Levy. This is Persephone. From the Greek myth. She’s the one who’s stolen down to the underworld and never permitted to return. She can visit the world for a while every year, but she can never stay. She’s trapped by her past.”
“Sounds familiar,” I say, gazing up at Persephone, “But you know, Lukas...we don’t have to be like that. We don’t have to be condemned by the things that have happened to us.”
“No?” he says, smiling sadly, “That’s been my experience, Hannah. As much as I wish it wasn’t. There’s no use dwelling on the past, but there’s no changing it, either. You can only keep running.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” I tell him, tightening my grasp on his arm, “We’ll keep one step ahead of our pasts, together. What else are people like us to do?”
“You wouldn’t mind that?” Lukas says, “Always being on the run with me? Always looking over your shoulder to make sure the bad things were being kept at bay?”
“I was doing that anyway, even before we met,” I tell him, “You can’t have a past like mine and not be afraid of it haunting you. There’s no use trying the deny that there are things in this world to fear. But there are so many things to love, as well. So many things to learn from.”
“Love?” Lukas says, tucking my hair behind my ear, “You know I don’t like that word.”
I roll my eyes, though my heart is turning back flips. “Don’t get cocky, Roth. Who’s to say I was talking about you?”
“Right,” he says, grinning down at me. “My mistake, so sorry. Can I freshen up your drink, Miss Levy? I think we’ve finally found some good company for the night.”
“Sure,” I tell Lukas, handing him my empty glass. The first drink has already gone to my head, a bit. “Want me to come with you?”
“I think I can manage,” Lukas says, turning away from me. “Besides, who will keep Persephone company if you tag along? I won’t be a minute.”
He disappears around the corner of the green maze, shooting a smile back at me before he goes. We’ve become so surrounded and entrenched in fear and danger that it’s become the norm. We’re learning, slowly but surely, not to let it weigh us down.
The night is quiet as I stand in the company of my mythic friend. I’m mesmerized by the statue. The figure seems so spectacularly familiar, even though I’ve never stepped foot in these gardens before in my life. I feel at once in awe of the piece and also deeply saddened by it. As the minutes creep onward, I could swear that the statue is drawing me in. It’s almost like there’s something it needs to tell me.
I focus all my senses on the little patch of the earth we share, trying to figure out what I’m supposed to be getting from the work of art. Admittedly, I’ve never been very keen with art. I have no idea how much time passes as I stand, observing the statue, but soon I hear Lukas’s footsteps coming back toward me.
“It’s so weird,” I say, as he approaches, “It’s like the meaning is right there beneath the surface, but I just can’t see it. I feel so sad, looking at her, but strangely alive too. It’s like, she makes me want to flee and fight at the same time. Sorry...this all probably just sounds like rambling to you.”
“Not at all,” says a voice behind me that freezes my blood in my veins. That raspy baritone doesn’t belong to Lukas at all, though God knows its familiar enough to me that it’s come to haunt my dreams.
Straining against the icy terror that grips my every cell, I turn to face the man who’s joined me within the maze. Cloaked by the shadow of the tall green wall, Sloan stands in the semi-darkness, staring at me hard. He’s dressed to the nines, looking so refined and polished that I can barely even recognize him. It’s the eyes that give him away. The cold, hurtful, hate-filled eyes that looked on as I withstood so much pain.
“Sloan,” I say, fighting to keep my voice from trembling, “What...How did you get in here?”
“The front door, of course,” he says, taking a step forward into the little stone plaza. “I know a few society types myself, Hannah. Or rather, my father does. But he’s very good at making introductions that last, if you know what I mean.”
He takes another step forward, his hulking mass swaying closer. I can’t believe that I used to find him attractive. When we first met, I was impressed by his bulging muscles, the way he’d built himself up to look strong and fierce. But now, I can only see the hands that have struck and bruised me so many times, the body that's caused me so much lasting pain. My hand moves unconsciously to my battered torso, as if to shield myself from his next blow.
“Relax,” he says, “I don’t want to hurt you, Hannah.”
“Then wh-what...do you want?” I splutter, backing away toward the statue. “Why are you here, Sloan? I told you that I didn’t want to see you anymore.”
“But I want to see you,” he sneers, balling his hands into fists at his sides. “Don’t I get a say in the matter, Hannah?”
“Not anymore,” I tell him, “You lost that privilege that last time you hit me, Sloan. You don’t get to make decisions about my life anymore. You don’t get to be in control.”
“I don’t want to control you, Hannah,” he says, “I just want you. I’ve missed you so much. Why don’t you answer my calls? Why don’t you ever return my texts?”
“Because you’re not a part of my life anymore,” I tell him. I know that it’s dangerous to antagonize him, but I can’t lie anymore. “We’re over, you and me. There’s nothing you can do to change that.”
“Bill’s gone,” he says suddenly. The air rushes out of my lungs. “He was killed. Murdered in his own home.”
“I know,” I whisper, “And I’m so sorry, Sloan. This must be a horrible time for your family.”
“For my family?” he hisses, “What about for me? Don’t you even give a shit about me, Hannah? After everything we’ve been through together? You loved me once, didn’t you? How could you just stop?”
“I didn’t just stop!” I tell him desperately, “I never loved you in the first place, Sloan. I thought I did, because I was so happy to hand the control of my fucked up life over to someone else for a change. You were good to me, at first. You opened me up, made me think I could trust a man again...but it was all bullshit. All you did was rip me open and hurt me worse than anyone ever has. You blew it, Sloan, you fucked up.”
“No,” he says, his voice low and deadly, “I don’t accept that.”
“Too bad.”
“Then what,” he spits, “Are you just gonna stay here with your sugar daddy, huh? Become a kept woman? You’re such a filthy whore, Hannah. I should have know that you just cared about money all along. You expect me to believe that you and this Roth guy are in love or something?”
“We have something better than love,” I tell him, “We have trust.”
Sloan sticks his finger down his throat, making a vile puking sound. “Please,” he says, “That’s a load of bullshit. That’s just his way of getting you to stick around, even though he think you’re just a collection of holes he can stick his piddly little prick into. I’m the only one who actually loves you, Hannah. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“No,” I tell him. “No, Sloan. Your love is a steaming load of horse shit. And I want nothing to do with it.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” Sloan says, “Because I’m not leaving here without you.”
“Oh yeah?” I say, my heart slamming itself against my chest, “And why do you expect me to come with you, asshole?”
“Let’s just say that I have a feeling about your Mr. Roth,” Sloan says, taking another step forward. Only a few precious feet separate us now.
“What does that mean?” I ask, with a sinking sensation in my gut.
“I’ve been doing a whole bunch of research, since you shacked up here,” Sloan says, “The grounds are pretty well guarded, but I’ve got connections with a lot of information. It turns out Mr. Roth has quite a past. A lot of blood on his hands.”
“That was his job,” I say firmly, “He killed terrible people.”
“Some terrible people,” Sloan sniffs, “But mostly just people that the US government didn’t happen to agree with. Lots of women. A couple kids, too.”
“That’s not true,” I whisper. “You’re not going to turn me against him, Sloan.”
“Then there was that grisly scene in Rome a few years back,” Sloan says, clicking his tongue. “Poor little rich boy. Got his wife and kids killed. Is that how you want to end up, Hannah? Dead on some tacky hotel carpet, with your children bleeding out next to you?”
“Stop it,” I tell him, tears welling in my eyes, “You fucking monster.”
“I’m the monster?!” Sloan roars, flying at me. His hands close around my waist, crushing my ribs in their grip. “You’re here with a fucking murderer, and I’m the one who’s a monster? How the fuck do you figure, you disgusting little slut?”
“Sloan, let go of me!” I shout, writhing to escape his grip.
“And I’ll tell you what else,” he says, spittle spraying my face. “I think that your sugar daddy had something to do with Billy’s murder. That’s right. My brother’s little friend got a pretty good look at your boyfriend’s build and mannerisms...seems like a pretty good fit.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I say, “Lukas wouldn’t—”
“Don’t lie to me!” Sloan roars, tightening his grip. “I took a little tour of the estate before I came looking for you Hannah. Beautiful property. I especially liked th
e fucking weapons locker downstairs. You think they’d put a better lock on a stash like that. There were some choice pieces in there, let me tell you. But I think my favorite was the gun whose bullets are a perfect match with the one that killed my fucking brother. Isn’t that just an amazing coincidence Hannah, huh? Isn’t that just the craziest thing you’ve ever heard?”
“Sloan, please,” I gasp, as my ribs threaten to buckle under his force. “This is all just in your head, I swear...”
“Don’t swear to me, you worthless little cunt!” he bellows, slamming me up against the pedestal atop which Persephone perches. Stars erupt in front of my eyes as my head slams back against the stone. I think I spot a twinkle of sapphire among the glowing specs. I’m able to focus on Sloan’s face for half a second before his head twists around on his neck, reeling from some incredible, forceful blow.
He staggers away from me, and I spot a flash of black and white dash after him. Lukas materializes before me, grabbing onto Sloan’s massive shoulders and slamming him onto the stone ground. Sloan must have a good twenty pounds on Lukas, not to mention an inch or two, but it’s nowhere near a fair fight.
“Don’t you dare talk to my woman that way,” Lukas growls, pinning Sloan to the cold hard ground. He cocks back his fist and slams it down against Sloan’s face. I hear a sickening crack as my ex’s cheekbone splinters. His howls fill the night as Lukas hits him again and again, his fist coming away bloody as Sloan’s face is mashed into a bloody pulp. Lukas steps up off his prey, letting Sloan stumble to his feet. At first, I think this is a terrible move, but then I realize...Lukas just wants to play with the psycho a little bit.
Ravaged Page 21