Groaning inwardly for how easily he can read my mind and for the stupid illusion of thinking I can actually escape him in his domain, I rush after them but cry out in pain after taking only a few steps.
I rub my foot against the other, the callouses I have still hurt like hell from pacing the cage back and forth. However, in a way, I’m grateful for the pain too, since it grounds me in the present and reminds me that I’m this man’s captive.
Someone he kidnapped to use for his own agenda, and my life has no value for him, which means angering him might cost me my life.
Instead of being cautious of him though, I enjoyed the car ride and hid behind his back when I was frightened. Who the hell behaves like that with the enemy?
I resume my walking albeit slower, batting back another cry of pain, but then I squeal when Arson’s shoes appear in my vision. He picks me up in his arms effortlessly, pressing me to his chest while I try to struggle in his hold, demanding, “Put me down.”
He ignores it though and walks us to the door in record time, shutting it behind us with his foot before moving with determination down the left wing of the house.
He passes everything so fast I don’t have time to study my environment beyond the fact that black and gray dominate the place, giving it almost a chessboard-like vibe.
I twist in his arms again, hoping he will put me down, because having his arms wrapped tightly around me confuses me to no end, because they don’t send fear or revulsion through me like Marcello’s did.
And that’s very dangerous. My senses should always expect danger from him and never get comfortable enough in his company to lose their guard.
Clearing my throat, I decide to return to the conversation at hand to distract myself from the grim thoughts. “A puppy?” I ask, giving the huge freaking dog a onceover. “How is that possible?” Does he feed him super food that transforms puppies into this?
“His breed is Newfoundland.” I blink at this, because it doesn’t explain anything to me. “Lachlan’s dog turned out to be a girl. She had puppies, and I kept one.”
Well this explains everything, right?
I want to scream in his face that I have no fucking clue who Lachlan is or how they are connected anyway, what’s going on around me, or what his plan is.
But I don’t have the privilege of any of those things, because one wrong move and I might be dead.
And ironically, despite my shit-for-nothing life, I still have the desire to live.
“A serial killer needs a puppy?”
I don’t hide the sarcasm in my voice, and although his body tenses against mine, his tone stays even when he replies, “Of course. Who knows when I might need to sic him on my victim to rip their flesh?”
His words are like cold water on me, the bile rising in my throat, and I slap him hard in the chest, muttering, “Let go of me.” He is so despicable that he even thinks to use a dog in his crimes!
His arms on me loosen, and with a loud yelp, I drop onto a bed, bouncing before landing solidly on my bottom, but I quickly scoot back to the headboard, watching him warily.
Although his face stays blank, I don’t miss the strained vein on his neck and how ice-cold his gaze becomes, freezing me on the spot. Suddenly, I’m afraid to breathe.
“Chloe, you don’t know how to control your temper, do you?” Arson asks, flipping the lighter between his fingers, and panic comes back, almost suffocating me with the reminder of how my father did the same to my mother. Asked thousands of questions before threatening her with the fire that always, always left countless marks on her. So she’d remember how “little whores paid for their betrayal.”
His exact words.
I hug my knees tighter, casting my eyes down, afraid to say a word, and hoping this pose will stop the fury in him. It always helped me back in “heaven.” As long as I acted compliant, no one touched me. While mostly I can withstand any punishment, the idea of fire touching my skin, destroying it, and leaving his permanent mark on me… I don’t think I will be able to withstand that without crumbling to pieces, once again reminding myself of my mother.
Resting my forehead against the tops of my knees, the air sticks in my lungs when I hear his boots thumping against the floor, coming closer and closer to me, until his shadow falls on me as he stands right under the harsh light from the ceiling.
My heart beats so hard against my ribcage I feel it in my throat, and I barely hold back the desperate cry when he forcefully traps my chin between his fingers and lifts my face to meet his eyes.
Silver eyes that give me nothing of his internal state, but it shouldn’t be so hard to guess, right?
It feels like an eternity as we watch one another, my palms fisting my dress while I can barely focus on anything but the ringing in my ears and the panic creeping over me, wanting to swallow me whole.
But then he grins, his thumb rubbing my cheek, and he leans closer, whispering, “I like it. Now take a shower and change your clothes, because all this filth disgusts me. And, darling, you don’t want me in a bad mood.” His touch leaves me and then in a few short strides, he is gone.
My body is shaking from the fear still washing over me, and it takes me a moment to realize he hasn’t done any of the things I’ve expected, and Arson is not going to hit me or punish me for a little disobedience.
I exhale harshly in relief, gulping as much air into my lungs as possible, and run my hands over my hair while his words ring in my ear.
I like it.
Did the monster just admit that my temper pleases him?
I’m not sure if it should make me happy… or scared.
Because one might never know what to expect from the unpredictable evil that is Arson.
A serial killer who is my captor yet buys me a hot dog because I’m hungry.
Chapter Ten
“With this fire, I thee worship…”
Arson
Callista, 17 years old
Caspian grabs my elbow and drags us back to the oak trees while Andrew looks around before following us.
The file’s edges dig into my palms as I squeeze it harder, and I wonder if it’s because of these that Pastor, who never bends over backward for anyone, is ready to kiss ass for all these guests.
They are selling children!
And where do they get these boys anyway? I don’t recognize any of them, so they must be from outside. But how is it possible to hide them all here?
So many questions, and I want all the answers now!
Once we are deep into the bushes, Caspian speaks up. “Pastor sells kids for those sick fucks.” Even though suspecting that, I still gasp. “This is what he used to do before in his other town.”
Dear God, there are more places like this? This explains his constant visits to the outside world. “So that’s where he goes?”
Andrew shakes his head. “No. That town is no longer there.” He gives me this cryptic answer before elaborating. “He recruited people there too, who worshiped the fucking ground he walked on and thought he’d give their kids a bright future.” He taps on the file with his finger before snatching it away from me. “As you see, it was a lie. He chooses the prettiest ones to sell their asses for good money.”
All this is so surreal, and I’m not sure I understand most of it, because I had no idea stuff like this even existed in the world.
“So all the boys, here?” I whisper, the faces of all the kiddos flashing in my mind, and a little sob escapes me. “They suffer?” Is this why no one is ever allowed into Pastor’s office?
He probably keeps all the evidence there, because no way would people stand by him if they knew the truth.
“No, he doesn’t have enough money to pull this off right now.”
Andrew snorts. “And these fucks only like boys.” The way he says it niggles on my mind while the explanation for it dances around the edges, but Caspian’s click of his fingers in front of my eyes doesn’t let me focus on it.
“He waited years to build an
other empire, and all he needs now is a good investor who does the same business. The boys are here.” This explains all the families moving here in recent years with mostly boys.
“That’s why he’s had so many guests in the last three years.” He glances at the house a second before continuing. “And it seems he found the perfect one.” Caspian waits a beat before continuing, “That’s where Oliver comes in.” A shiver runs down my spine at the reminder of the awful man who spoke about marriage, but the boys keep on staring at me and my brows furrow. “Oliver believes only in family ties. But he has all the resources Pastor lost.” He huffs in exasperation. “I’m not sure what he can offer him to bend, but I can’t wait for it. We need to get out of here and get someone from outside to end this madness before someone else gets hurt.”
Someone else, meaning somebody already got hurt?
Family ties.
“He asked if I’m betrothed,” I whisper, and both of them freeze, while panic slowly rises in the pit of my stomach, burning me from inside out, and I palm my head. “He has a son who will like my spirit.” Oh my God, what am I going to do?
No way will Pastor pass up this opportunity!
“Callista.” Caspian tries to soothe me, his hands running up and down my arms, but I twist away from his hold, while fear unlike anything I’ve ever known sinks into me.
He will marry me off to this man and create an empire where kids suffer, and I will suffocate to death in a marriage with a monster.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” I chant and then my teeth clack against each other until Caspian shakes me hard, snapping me out of my shock, so I can focus back on our conversation. “Don’t panic. Listen to me.” I blink in surprise at the harsh tone in his voice, but it helps me to stay in the present and shy away from the red haze of fear. “He won’t marry you off until you are of age and say yes. Rules are in place for everyone for a reason. Pastor won’t go against his own word.”
That’s all he has to calm me down? I barely control the hysterical laughter threatening to erupt in the night and alert the guards about our presence. “I’ll be of age in one year!” I hiss in his face, but he doesn’t budge, pressing me closer to him. “What do I do, then? Marry him and allow all this to happen?” How could my life come to this in the span of ten minutes?
I disliked it before for all the restrictions I have in not living my life as I want and how delusional Mom is.
But now?
This life terrifies me, and the repercussions it brings to the kids whose mothers desperately seek solace in a place they should avoid at all costs.
“He loves you.” Revulsion rushes through me at this, but Caspian continues anyway. “He will only use you when it’s absolutely necessarily. And he doesn’t have a product yet.” Disgust and anger lace his tone when he refers to children like that. “They are too small.”
“So what are you saying?”
Andrew clears his throat and then claps his hands to finally make us look in his direction. “We are getting the hell out of here to get help and end this. All you have to do is wait.”
“How did you get it anyway?” I ask, pointing at the folder, and Andrew shrugs, adjusting the lapels of his jacket.
“We have our ways.” He must read on my face that this explanation is not gonna cut it for me and sighs. “Caspian knows where Pastor keeps all the important stuff, and he found the code to his safe. That’s why we need to get our asses moving before Pastor finds out about this.” He waves the folder and taps me lightly on the shoulder. “We will be back, and no one is going to marry you off to anyone. Just hold on, Chloe.” With that, he moves in the direction of the back gate where light is almost nonexistent, since no one likes to wander around the bushes leading to the forest.
I turn back to stare at Caspian, opening my mouth to give him a piece of my mind, still too shocked with all the revelations tonight when he palms my head, tilting it back and stepping ever closer to me, which makes my breath hitch in my throat. “I will come back for you.” He leans closer, and I scrunch my eyes, too nervous to think what he will do next, and then I feel his lips lightly kissing my forehead, where he lingers for a bit, and I exhale in relief. For a second there, I was afraid he was going to kiss me for real! “He won’t ever touch you. I promise you, Callista. It will all be over before you know it, and no one will get hurt,” he whispers against my skin, and I fist his jacket harder, allowing a single tear to slide down my cheek while I soak up his words.
In all these years, Caspian has never lied to me. And even though I should be worried about their so-called plan to escape, I’m not.
If he is sure about something, Caspian usually gets what he wants, and I can always trust in his abilities to achieve anything.
Life here convinced me of that at least.
He breaks off our embrace, stepping back and taking away the only protection I’ve known here.
He cups my cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears, and smiles. “It’s going to be all right, Callista. Just wait for me to come back.” And with one final glance my way, he runs off in the same direction Andrew did. I stand there gazing after them with the wind whooshing around me and slapping me hard on the cheek as if cementing me in this reality and reminding me why I can’t go with them, even if the fear inside me screams to get the hell out of here.
But love for my mother and compassion for all the kids who might face terror wins in my heart and slowly pulls me out of the shadows and into the light, invisibly dragging me back inside the house.
My body still trembles as I slowly go upstairs, passing by everything in a blur, and shut the door behind me, sliding down against it and weeping onto my knees.
The hell everyone speaks of, warns of, and preaches about doesn’t wait for us high up.
No, we create the hell around us the minute we forget we are humans and take prisoner another’s life, forever shattering them in favor of our greed and selfishness.
While people like me become collateral damage.
I close my eyes, praying for God to help them get out safely and bring help to end all of this.
My future will not be like that of my mother’s.
Forever choosing monsters one after another, justifying it by the word love.
After all… it’s impossible to fall in love with a monster.
* * *
A loud terror-filled scream echoes in the hallway, snapping my eyes open while I blink in confusion in the dark room, only moonlight streaming from the open window giving me any sort of light.
Removing the hair from my face, I realize I’ve fallen asleep earlier than usual, and glancing at the clock, I scrunch my eyes to see it’s past one in the morning.
Usually everyone is asleep by this time.
Maybe it was a nightmare and I woke up, because—
Another scream, one that I recognize as my mother’s, penetrates the walls, and it’s stronger than before. “How could you?” she asks. I throw the blankets away, stepping onto my fluffy carpet, and rush toward the door, twisting it open to see her standing by their door, just opposite the staircase, as Pastor tries to reason with her.
“Carmen, I can explain. Get inside the room.” Even though his voice is soothing, I don’t miss the anger seeping through along with the fury shaking his entire body, which he does a bad job of covering up.
I’ve never seen him look like that at my mother, because he adores her so much it always made me sick.
“How can you explain this?” Mom waves some papers in her hand, fear lacing every word. “Is this what you do?” She motions around the hallway with it. “Is this how you make your money and bring me gifts?” She slaps him with the paper, the smacking sound bouncing off the hallway walls while she continues. “By selling innocent children to your friends?”
My heart stops for a second and a gasp escapes my mouth, because my mom knows about his bad deeds.
Or rather just discovered it.
Relief washes over me in waves, because
a part of me, a part I didn’t want to think about, wondered if Mom knew about it and supported him anyway. That her love for him was so strong it made her blind to everyone and everything else.
But I never should have doubted my mom.
She might be a woman who always relied on men to make her happy, but she won’t ever stand by the monsters willingly, or justify their bad deeds.
If a man ever hurts you, leave him, sweetie. He doesn’t deserve you or your heart.
That’s the motto she drilled into me from a very young age.
“Lower your voice,” he orders, his tone vibrating with rage, and he grabs her elbow, earning himself her groan of pain when she tries to twist it away. “And know your place.”
I can’t take this anymore, so I dart toward them, shouting. “Let go of my mom.” If this sick bastard thinks he can hurt her, he has another think coming!
Both of them swing their heads in my direction, and Mom gasps, tears forming in her eyes as she whispers, “Chloe.”
“My name is Callista, Mom,” I tell her, knowing full well that after this we won’t be able to pretend like nothing is wrong. All that’s left is to pray that Caspian comes back as soon as he can with help to stop this madness.
“Go back to your room, Chloe. There is nothing to worry about,” Pastor barks.
“I won’t. This is hideous.” I point at the papers, and Mom gasps again, crying into her fists before shaking her head.
“Even my child knows about your deeds.”
Pastor’s face transforms from indifferent to furious in the span of a second, and he tightens his hold on Mom, pulling her in the direction of their bedroom. “Both of you shut your mouths, and Carmen, come with me.”
I grab Mom’s other elbow, halting his movements while we tug her in opposite directions. “You won’t do anything to my mom!” I scream at him while his laughter reverberates through the walls.
“I won’t repeat myself again. Go to your room, or there will be a price to pay.” Then his gaze moves to Mom, who still pulls at her hand trying to get free, but he fists it so hard his knuckles turn white, and he must be leaving bruises on her skin. “Carmen, you don’t want Chloe to face the repercussions of your actions, do you?”
Arson’s Captive Page 12