by Vi Carter
I lean into her neck, her pulse spikes and when she whimpers, it’s like a bucket of water over me. She sounds like a frightened animal. I push off the wall and quickly exit her room.
No one has ever made me feel so unsure. No one has ever made me feel so animalistic. The way she looks at me sometimes.
I’m down the hall quickly, needing to put distance between Ella and myself. I wasn’t sure if I went back into her room I would be able to control myself. I’m consumed with an irritation that I don’t know how to get rid of. The plants at the end of the hall are my destination. I move up the winding gold stairs to the attic. It’s dark as I enter. I reach for the light switch and the area lights up instantly. The space is neat, everything has a place. Nothing is left out. I want to find the small brown box. There is no time like the present.
I want to thrash the space, I hate everything about it. All the odds and ends that Henry collects makes no sense, just like him. I picture him arriving in the morning to find the area destroyed, some of my irritation leaves as I picture his face at the destruction.
I find the box stuffed behind a small Moroccan table. It’s neatly tucked away. I take it out and my stomach swirls and tightens as I push over the lid that slides open. The box wobbles in my hands, but I steady it quickly.
There isn’t just one finger in the box, but two. So, it is Henry. This is all I need. I bring the box over to the large lamp to get a better look. The fingers are from different people and the second is female. Who else had he killed?
I close the box and make sure the table looks undisturbed as I leave the attic. The hallway is still empty, as it’s three in the morning so no one is awake. I had been in bed, but after I heard that Ella was attacked, from Mark, I had wanted to make sure she was okay. It was an odd feeling for me, but I couldn’t settle until I saw her.
I pass her bedroom and slow down. I terrified her; I’m not going to apologize and if I enter the room I’m not sure what will happen. She would provoke me again, and a part of me didn’t want to hurt her.
I return to my own room. Sitting on the unmade bed, I flick on the lamp and examine the finger again. I notice how neatly it is sliced off. It almost doesn’t look real.
My mind snaps to the man that I beat. I don’t even know if he is still alive. There had been so much blood over my hands and his body, most of it from my fists.
It is only a lump of meat I tell myself as I pick up the finger. It is real.
I have to bring this to my father. But now I’m not presenting just one problem, but two. I place the finger back in the box before taking out the second one. It is smaller, definitely female. I drop the female finger into the glass of water on my bedside table. This finger my father didn’t need to know about yet.
Taking the glass, I bring it into my bathroom and hide it at the back of the cupboard.
I’ll hand over the box tomorrow but until a female body appears with a missing finger, I’ll keep that one to myself.
***
After sleeping on it, I decide that I won’t go to my father. I want to confront Henry first. Let him know that I am the one that discovered the finger. That I am the one that finally caught him out.
The house is busy this morning; I hate the noise they make as they shuffle around, always giggling, always chatting. It doesn’t stop me from trying to seek out Ella. In the sea of faces I don’t see hers. I wasn’t sure how I felt about looking for her; she infuriated me, defied me at every step. Refused to refer to me as Master Lucas, the times when she did use my name, it sounded different on her lips.
I liked it.
Henry is already in the attic, he’s frantically pulling out furniture.
“Did you lose something?” I ask as I take the final step into the attic. He swings around and nearly loses his balance. I’ve never seen him so white. He pushes his glasses up on his nose.
“I knew you were all kinds of fucked up, but this.” I remove the box from behind my back, his eyes zapping to it. “This is sick.”
He shakes his head before dipping it.
I step further into the room. “You like to keep a token from your victims?”
He looks at me from under his glasses, his shoulders hunching forward.
“You jerk off looking at it.”
His spine snaps straight and he’s someone different. “You’re so crude.” He blinks rapidly.
I sneer. “You’re a fucking freak. Do you know the sentence for killing?”
He’s back to shaking his head again. “I didn’t do it.”
“Right, how did this get here?” I wave the box at him, and I swear he pales further.
“I found it.”
“You know you will have to do better than that Henry, I found it just isn’t going to cut it when I present this to the committee.”
His head snaps up again, he stands to his full height and pushes his glasses up on his face.
“I’m your brother. I would be hung for it.”
My stomach twists at the image of him swinging from a tree. He didn’t know that I had the power to choose his punishment. I wouldn’t have him killed, but he would be punished. I didn’t care for Declan, I just wanted to know why he did it.
“Was Declan touching you?” I ask.
“You’re vulgar, I had no dealings with Declan.”
I didn’t like this, us going around in circles. “Okay, you little shit, then tell me why you killed him?”
“I didn’t. That box was sitting in the middle of my floor. The day you arrived I had just found it.”
I scrub my face with my free hand. I had no clue if he was lying. He is very good at pretending.
“So what is your theory?” I quiz.
“Someone is framing me.”
If I was to frame someone it would be Henry. To me, he fits the profile.
But I still wasn’t buying into his lie. “So, who do you think framed you?” I ask.
He shrugs while tilting his head. Jutting out his chin, he narrows his eyes. “You.”
“So, I framed you and confronted you for being a killer and asked you who framed you?”
“I don’t know Lucas.” He barks and the anger that he is struggling to keep in check is growing. His hands tighten into fists. Three black dots on his right thumb catch my eye.
“New tattoo?”
He curls his fists and the tattoo disappears. “I just drew it on.” He looks at the floor. “I didn’t hurt anyone.”
“Where’s Alex?”
His face grows red, his hands return to fists. “Leave him alone.”
“No.”
Alex is a trigger for him, his only friend.
“He doesn’t even know about the box.”
“I know you’re lying Henry, and I know Alex has something to do with all this.”
Henry laughs, but it isn’t humorous. “Do you hear yourself? You just hate me so much, that you need to pin this on me.” He’s shouting, his temper getting the better of him. I hope it does. I hope he says something he regrets.
“No, you two are weird, and tell him to keep away from Ella. He’s sniffing around her like a dog.”
“You’re lying.” There is a tremble in his voice and the uncertainty in his eyes has me looking at him again.
“Ask him what happened in the garden?”
Henry shakes his head. “What are you talking about?”
“He was caught in the garden with Ella and later at the ball.”
His eyes are filling with despair and there is a look in his eyes that makes my skin itchy.
“Jesus Christ.” Laughter bubbles up my throat. “Wow.”
“Stop it.” He grits his teeth.
“Does father know?” If he did, he would string him up.
“Shut your mouth.” His anger is feeding into my own. I want him to keep feeding my violence so I can release it upon him.
“You’re gay,” I say it like it’s the funniest thing in the world.
Henry’s shaking his head violentl
y
I’m bloodthirsty right now and I want him to attack. “Does Alex know?” I tease and it’s enough he snaps and charges.
Henry surprises my by throwing the first punch. I pause as I wipe blood from my nose before I grin and unleash my anger on him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ELLA
Breakfast is quiet. I can’t stop staring at Vicky’s empty chair. She must have slept in, there is no way he actually had her sent home. I glance at all the other girls; they are all subdued. My stomach tightens when Hannah focuses on her toast and tea, she won’t meet my eye. Do they all know what happened to Vicky?
I chew the inside of my mouth until it’s raw. “Has anyone seen Vicky?” I ask innocently, all eyes are on me and I swallow. This isn’t good.
Hannah’s wide blue eyes flicker to the left before she looks at me again. She’s out of her chair and gripping my hand. “Come on.”
“Hannah, don’t be foolish. She isn’t your friend,” Jessie speaks up and I frown at her. What is going on?
Hannah ignores her and takes me out of the room.
“What’s happening?” I half whisper, half shout. My nerves are already shattered after having Lucas in my room last night. He nearly kissed me. The worst part is I wanted him too. My body responded to him. Last night I was drowning while I stood in front of him, waiting to see what he would do. He terrified me and some sick part of me got off on that fear. I had no idea why.
Hannah doesn’t stop until we are in the drawing room, it’s empty. She releases my hand and creeps back over to the door, closing it gently.
“Okay Hannah, you have to tell me what’s happening.”
She nods and moves away from the door. The white cone-shaped skirt whooshes as she walks quickly to me.
“We all got a warning about keeping our hands to ourselves.”
Dread starts to weave its way along the base of my spine.
“Everyone knows that Vicky hurt you and that now she’s gone.” Tears blur Hannah’s eyes.
I felt terrible “It’s okay, I’m sure she will still find someone.”
Hannah shakes her head, a few red curls coming loose. “It’s not that. She will be punished.”
Ice enters my veins and grips my breath. “Punished?” I whisper. I don’t want to know, but I also need to know. Look what he did to me when I spoke to Alex, what would he do to Vicky? My legs feel weak and I reach behind me, seeking out a chair and I slowly sit down.
“Yes, they said she was being punished. What if they kill her?”
A laugh bubbles up my throat. “Okay, now your imagination has gone wild.” I’m standing, shaking my head. “I’ll find out.”
Hannah grips my arm. “NO! Please, I don’t want to see you hurt.” The fear in her eyes is real and my heart starts to pick up pace.
“You’re talking about murder?”
“I know it sounds insane.”
“It really does, Hannah.” I am finding this conversation is growing wings and flying away with itself. I need to find out what happened to Vicky.
“Do you know something?” The fear in her eyes is growing, expanding and passing onto me.
“No. It’s just some of the girls think Lucas might have killed her.”
Now I’m laughing, but Hannah continues to stare at me.
Is Lucas capable of murder? He wouldn’t hurt her over a slap. This didn’t make sense.
I walk away from Hannah even as she calls me back. But I need to know. It’s a fire that’s started to spark inside me and I don’t want it to rage. I need the truth, but I need to be careful too.
Mark walks out of the dining room, his eyes meet mine and I force a half smile.
“I’m looking for Master Lucas.”
One eyebrow rises slightly, but the surprise is short lived. “He is in his study.”
I shrug. “Where is that?”
Mark continues to stare at me, I don’t know what he’s thinking, maybe debating whether to take me or not but he makes his mind up. “Follow me Miss O’ Leary.”
Mark takes me towards the back of the house. The noise grows further away and I twist my hands nervously.
When Mark stops I nearly walk into his back, stopping myself at the last second. He glances at me over his shoulder before he knocks three times in quick succession on the door.
“What?” A growl from Lucas has me shuffling.
This is a bad idea.
“Maybe this isn’t the best time,” I say to Mark just as the door opens.
Lucas glares at Mark before his eyes pin me to the floor.
“Maybe this isn’t a good time,” I say. He’s holding a cloth to his bloody nose. His black clothes look like he’s just been in a scuffle. He looks brooding and dark as he fills the door frame. I just want to run.
“You have already disturbed me, so come in.” He opens the door fully.
Mark steps aside to let me into the lion’s cage. I inhale a deep breath asking God to give me the courage, as I step into Lucas’s study.
I’m waiting for the door to slam, but he closes it surprisingly gently behind me. The room shrinks and my hands grow damp as he walks past me and sits down in a large leather chair behind a mahogany desk.
“I can come back another time,” I stutter.
He takes the rag away from his face, blood still leaks from his nose. “Just spit it out Ella.”
He’s angry. I got him at a really bad time. He’s staring at me like if I don’t speak soon he will get up and shake it out of me.
I force myself to stand tall. “Where is Vicky?” I hold my hands in front of me now. Hoping I look confident and calm. Like I’m not ready to run from the room.
“That’s why you are here?” He pushes the rag back up to his nose to catch some more blood.
My mind scatters and I feel like I’m on the ground trying to pick it up. “What other reason would I be here?”
“I thought maybe you came to apologize.” He removes the rag and allows me to see his lips curling up into a smirk.
I fold my arms across my chest. “Apologize for what?”
He places the rag on the table and stands.
My stomach dips.
“For being so rude last night.”
Heat travels up my neck. The kiss. The almost kiss. My heart rate skyrockets. Was he talking about that? Did he even care? Was this just a mind game?
“I don’t think I was rude.” I had so much more to add, but I am still treading carefully. He’s like a bomb ready to explode and I don’t want to be the one to set him off.
“Yes you were,” he says it so matter of a factly.
I bite my tongue.
He walks around the table with a grin. “I see your struggle. You can’t help yourself. You always have something to say back.”
I unfold my arms from my chest, not knowing what to do with my hands as he continues to walk towards me. Fresh blood gathers under his nose. The scarlet liquid I can’t look away from.
“What happened to your nose?” I ask without thinking.
He touches it and his fingers come away with blood on them. His eyes flicker to his fingers. I inhale sharply as he puts his fingers in his mouth and sucks off the blood.
His smile widens at my reaction, there is blood on his lips.
“Did Vicky do that?” I ask, thinking maybe she fought back.
“You think I fought with Vicky?”
“I don’t know, did you?” I swallow around the lump in my throat as Lucas eradicates the distance between us. I can’t look away from his bloodstained lips.
“You still have to be punished for speaking to Alex.”
My eyes skip to his. There are specks of brown floating amongst the mass of ink. They are barely surviving in the pool of black. But they are there.
His eyes snap to my lips and my tongue flicks out and wets them. I’m frozen as he lowers his head to me. He’s so much taller, so much bigger, and I’m just consumed with Lucas. His soft full lips touch mine and it’s a b
olt of lightning through my system. My hands automatically go to his chest and I have no idea if I want to pull him closer or push him away.
He pauses, his lips on mine and I have no idea what he’s waiting for. I know I should stop this but my body leans in towards him. He is giving me the opportunity to stop this. With every ounce of strength I possess I move my face away from his. My heart beats wildly in my chest and I have no doubt he hears it.
I release his shoulders and take a step back. His eyes bore into mine.
My nerves are jangled. “Are we even now?”
The brown in his eyes has no chance as the darkness closes around them and distinguishes the small amount of light. Once again I want to reach for my words, take them back and shove them down my throat.
“Not even close.” His words are filled with a menace that has me stepping back.
Lucas looks away from me and focuses on the wall, like he’s heard something. I’m following his gaze.
“You can go now.” He dismisses me without even looking at me and I know I’ve messed up.
“Lucas.”
His head swings to me at the mention of his name, but there isn’t the same person there. This one is angry and dark.
“It’s Master Lucas, and I said get out.”
His words hurt, but they really shouldn’t. I curtsy. “Master Lucas.”
Oh, God. My head is a jumble. I’m walking around trying to keep it together. I don’t know if I want to cry or scream. How can anyone make me feel so much?
“Are you okay?”
I grip my chest, as Hannah who’s dragging Jessie with her, ambushes me in the hall.
“Of course I’m okay.” I’m breathless, flustered.
Hannah’s blue eyes widen as she’s staring at my lips. Color splashes across my cheeks. She couldn’t know he kissed me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“There’s blood on your lips. Did he hurt you?”
I suck in my bottom lip and taste Lucas’s blood. I release my swollen lip. “No, I must have bitten it.” I lie. My stomach tightens as his blood sits on my tongue. There is something powerful about tasting his blood.
Oh, God. There is something wrong with me. This place is doing something to me.