Arson’s Captive

by Mason , V. F.

  We might be killed at any moment in the lives we lead, but sure as fuck no one wants to die at the hands of an amateur killer like Caspian.

  As we walk as fast as we can through the fire that is destroying the house I’ve built with such passion, I can’t help but wonder if I was wrong after all this time, and we do have friendship among us.

  After all, what else explains their presence here, risking their life for me… if not friendship?

  Even if its foundation was built on something ugly and dark that brought endless pain.

  They say some of the greatest love stories start with hate.

  I’m not sure about that, because I didn’t even know what love meant until my eyes landed on Callista.

  But what if some of the greatest friendships start with unbearable pain?

  But as we speed up to reach the exit faster, Caspian reminds me of something, even from the dead.

  No word of his could be trusted.

  As the bomb blasted in two minutes instead of three.

  Callista

  One minute, I’m watching the massive building burn brightly, and the next, the man who holds me tight throws me on the ground and covers me when a huge explosion vibrates the air, tossing crumbling bricks, probably destroying the house once and for all from the inside out.

  “No!” I scream, trying to slide away from Florian, whose grip on me only tightens, and another explosion pushes us back before he rolls to the side. I sit up, covering my mouth in shock when I see how Arson’s beautiful house is consumed in flames with the second and third floors collapse onto the first.

  “No!” I scream again, darting in that direction, but Florian wraps his arms around me, lifting me in the air while I kick my legs and slap his hands harshly. “Let go of me! Let go of me!” I try to bite his skin, but I can’t reach his hand with my mouth. “Arson is in there! We have to save him!” Why is he just standing here and stopping me?

  Arson is inside!

  What if he is stuck under some bricks and needs our help?

  “I’m sorry, darling, but I made a promise.”

  Who cares about his promise when my man in there is probably burning alive?

  I kick him again, digging my heel in the middle of his knee, and he bends a little but still holds me tight and spins us around when another explosion erupts. This time, it must come from the basement, because it shakes the entire house, yet the first floor stays standing.

  “Oh my God!” I shout, tears streaming down my cheeks while my heart breaks inside my chest, pain hitting me from every corner. “Arson!” I whisper as I sink to my knees on the ground with Florian’s arm steadying me, while all I can do is watch the destruction in front of me.

  Ares crouches next to me, pressing his body against mine as if trying to give me comfort, but how is it possible in such a situation?

  Threading my fingers in his fur, I hug him close while silently crying and hating this fire with a passion, because of one man’s obsession that took Arson from me.

  But then Ares barks loudly, sprinting toward the house. I shout, “No!” Does he plan to save Arson too? This poor dog will die in that stupid fire!

  I rush after him, and surprisingly Florian lets me, strolling behind me. I stop abruptly, noticing men emerging from the back of the building. What is that, another secret passage?

  I gasp when I see Arson smeared in soot while Santiago and Lachlan hold him with Callum walking beside them. They all cough repeatedly and fall on the ground together, probably exhausted from the effort.

  I reach them in record time, screaming at Florian, “We need water!” He nods and takes off in a different direction while I almost knock Arson on his back where he is sitting when I wrap my arms around him, holding him so tightly he probably can't breathe.

  He doesn’t seem to care though as he returns the embrace, his hands fisting in my hair when I lean back and say, “You are such a monster for playing me, Arson.” I connect our mouths, just pressing our lips together, needing to feel this contact that grounds me and allows me to believe he is okay here with me. “I hate you!” I sob through my cries and burrow my face in his neck, basking in the feel of his heartbeat under my palm.

  The men next to him laugh, and my glare doesn’t stop their laughter.

  Arson forcefully pushes my head back again to face me and his thumb rubs my cheek while his silver pools flash with an emotion so profound I can physically feel it. “I love you.” He rests his forehead on mine. “I’ve never said those words to anyone but you,” he whispers and sighs. My mouth opens to reply to this declaration, but his arm loosens its grip as he falls backward. It’s only then that I notice the deep bleeding on his leg along with blood coming from his abdomen.

  There is so much blood I don’t know where to focus first, but then I place my finger on his pulse and my heart stops.

  Because there is no heartbeat.

  Nothing.

  No!

  No, no, no.

  Arson

  I always thought that people who beg to live longer are fools who never knew how to wisely use the opportunities life has given them.

  Because if they did… they wouldn’t beg for mercy; they’d die happy and with their dignity intact.

  In this moment though, I’m ready to beg just for the opportunity to stay with my angel for eternity, even if this devil doesn’t deserve it.

  The gates of hell open up for me, ready to claim my soul and bring me peace that I never knew in my life until I met her.

  I would have welcomed it a long time ago… but I can’t right now.

  So I do something I promised myself to never, ever do again and something I despise with all my being.

  I pray for forgiveness and atonement that is forbidden for the likes of me.

  And the little boy who I thought died a long time ago… for the first time in forever, hopes.

  Hopes that he still has a chance for a brighter future.

  Epilogue

  “I thought love didn’t exist.

  But I was wrong.

  Love exists and her name is… Callista.”

  Arson

  New York, New York

  Seven years later

  Arson

  A loud squeal of joy fills the space, making the birds above on the trees chirp loudly and then fly away, sending leaves dropping on the ground.

  Ares barks, chasing them all the way to the main gates, becoming a dark blur in the distance while tiny feet follow him, thudding through the grass. Loud panting can be heard, because the little girl can’t keep up with him.

  Leaning my shoulder against the doorjamb, I watch her stop right in the middle, breathing heavily, and then she flips her golden locks back before placing her hands on her hips.

  Her melodic yet stern voice has the power to wake the dead as she shouts, “Ares, you come back here, mister!” The dog must stop and spin around, because it only takes a second before he is running back at her, albeit slower than before with his ears pulled back.

  Aurora points at the space next to her and he sits on it, awaiting her verdict, because he is a sucker for the little princess of the house.

  Sometimes I think he is more afraid of her than me, but then again, I don’t have the heart to squeeze the life out of him.

  She pats his head gently and scolds him in her soft voice. “You shouldn’t run like that to the gates. It scares me.” She leans closer to his ear, like Ares is deaf and shouts, “Don’t scare me!”

  Ares glances my way, his eyes screaming for help, but he continues to stand still, dutifully listening to an earful from his boss.

  I’ve long accepted the fact that Aurora took the reins from me when it comes to our Newfoundland.

  As long as he remembers all the safety commands I taught him to protect my girls, I don't mind.

  Pushing off the door, I slowly walk from the house toward them while the light summer breeze flows over me, allowing me to enjoy it touching my skin and awakening nature around me.
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  I no longer hear screams in my ears, which means I can appreciate the beauty this world has to offer, and not only when my victims burn in fire.

  Although it’s still very satisfying.

  “Aurora,” I call my daughter who hugs the beast so tightly the dog whimpers but then nuzzles her when she burrows her head into his fur. They make an almost comical picture, considering she is so tiny next to him. “Baby girl, do you want to explain what’s going on inside?” I motion to the house while my daughter twists her foot from side to side.

  Then she exhales heavily, closing her eyes as she starts to explain. “Daddy, don’t be mad.”

  If my years of fatherhood have taught me one thing about children… it’s that whenever they ask you not to be mad about something, you can fucking bet you will be.

  “Uncle Santiago called two weeks ago.” I should have expected he had a hand in this one, but I stay silent, waiting for her to elaborate. “He called to wish a happy birthday to his favorite girl.” She giggles, turning her head to the side as she probably can’t keep her eyes closed for long but still avoids my gaze. “He started asking me what I wanted for a gift and all… and I just blabbed it, Daddy.” She twists her head back and peeks one eye open quickly, scanning me for a reaction. And since I stay absolutely calm, because not in any fucking way will I ever lose my temper with my child, she lets go of the dog and runs to me, hitting my knees before wrapping her tiny hands around it. “You’re not mad, are you?” My fucking heart melts inside me whenever she gives me this smile of hers, and I pat her head, rubbing her forehead. “Can we keep him?”

  Him, as in the iguana Santiago sent from Chicago that is currently lounging in my living room, resting under a bright light right on my spotless white carpet.

  I don’t want the animal anywhere near my house, but how can you refuse your own daughter when she pleads with those eyes of hers that remind me so much of her mother's?

  “All right. But there are conditions,” I warn her, deciding to find some movies about the animal so we can study them together. Are we even allowed to have them as pets?

  I bet her favorite uncle, Santiago, who for some reason she loves to pieces, didn’t think about that. Or simply found my future struggles hilarious as fuck.

  Payback is a bitch though, and I'll do the same shit to him in the future. He is not the only favorite uncle around.

  She jumps up, raising her arms, and exclaims, “Woohoo!” Then she whistles, yelling toward the garden, “Daddy is not mad! Come out, Hannah and Ellie!” I follow her gaze only to see two more heads pop out from behind the swing and rose bushes Callista planted in the garden. Slowly, they walk toward me.

  Aurora puffs her chest up and announces proudly, “I spoke to him. Ha! We can keep my iguana!”

  “It is my iguana!” Hannah snaps at her and then gives me a bright smile. “Thank you, Daddy!”

  Aurora’s eyes narrow and she huffs, “Uncle Santiago said he is mine.”

  “He said it’s ours! You have Ares anyway! And we are all his favorite girls, not only you.” Hannah points an accusing finger at the dog who lies down and covers his ears with his paws.

  Me and you both, buddy.

  I'm not stupid enough to interfere though; once, I did, and had a headache for hours trying to judge who got dibs on the newest doll.

  Ellie rolls her eyes and lifts her chin in disgust while watching her sisters fight over an iguana. “I don’t even care about that green lizard.” Since when does my five-year-old know the word lizard anyway? I swear to the devil their favorite uncle won’t be coming or calling anytime soon. It brings nothing but trouble. “I have my bunny.” Only then do I notice the white fur in her arms that she holds on her shoulder and pats lightly. “His name is Fluffy. Say hi to Daddy, Fluffy.” She spins around so his gaze lands on me, and Fluffy wiggles his nose, not seeming very impressed with me.

  Yeah, well, I’m not fucking impressed either.

  “What’s the bunny doing here?”

  Ellie gasps and then sends an accusing stare at Aurora, “You said he’s not mad!”

  Aurora sighs, her cheeks blushing. “I forgot about Fluffy. I’m sorry, Ellie.” In a silent communication, they all plaster themselves to my legs, hugging me close while their identical faces tilt back to look at me, each one of them a pleading look in their eyes.

  “He is so cute, Daddy.”

  “And fluffy!”

  “Duh, Hannah, that’s his name.”

  “You don’t know what might win Daddy over!”

  “It's not fair if he says no to my bunny when you got an iguana!”

  “So we can keep him?”

  Another thing fatherhood has taught me?

  If you have triplet daughters, you become a sucker for their every wish, even if you are a serial killer hunting for his next fix.

  Loving and having them in this world… seeing how much they trust me and never shy away from me… not expecting pain from their family, is everything.

  I can survive bunnies and iguanas.

  As long as I know my girls are happy and no nightmares creep up on them in the night. My only desire is for them to know no fear or despair in this world, because I’ll always be there to protect them from any darkness.

  Darkness became my salvation, giving me strength when I needed it the most, but I never want to sacrifice my daughters to it.

  “Okay. But he is going to be kept in a cage.” Ellie’s mouth drops open and Hannah closes it with her finger, giggling. I turn my attention to her. “The same goes for that iguana.” No one but me is lounging in the living room.

  Then I glance back at Aurora, who grins at me, pride shining from her as she probably thinks she secured this deal. After all, she is the leader among the three.

  They all possess their mother’s beauty, but character-wise, they couldn’t have been more different.

  Aurora is a little hellion who does as she pleases and loves to get her sisters in trouble, only to get them out of it as well. She also doesn’t even blink when we light the candles and can stare at them for hours, telling us different stories from her imagination.

  Hannah loves everything unique, collecting different shapes of rocks wherever she goes and studying the environment around her. Just last night, she told me we should be more careful with water when I watered the yard.

  And finally Ellie, my flower girl, who loves everything girly and can stroll through the garden barefoot with a crown of roses on her head, studying the herbs Callista has in her greenhouse.

  “All right, Daddy,” they all reply in unison and hug me once more.

  I pick up the bunny from Ellie’s hands or the poor fella is gonna slip. I give him the stare, because fuck if he is gonna shit all over my house.

  All these creatures need to know who the real boss is here.

  The girls collectively squeal, screaming, “Mommy!” and my head swings to the left where my woman is walking toward us, with Ares jumping around her, since she is holding a tray of freshly baked cookies in her hands. She cocks her head to the side. “Is there a family meeting I’m unaware of?” I give the bunny back to Ellie, since she taps her foot waiting, and she takes off to her mom, snatching a cookie from the plate.

  Aurora just takes the whole plate and points at the double swing in the distance. “We’re going over there. Thank you, Mommy.” They all blow her kisses before running, arguing loudly who is going to sleep with the bunny tonight.

  The answer is easy—no one.

  The wind blows her hair, making the golden locks fly free, and even after all this time, I’m still mesmerized with my angel’s beauty that is my true salvation I waited my entire life for.

  Loving her is a gift I’ll never take for granted.

  After the explosion that happened seven years ago, they rushed me to hospital, because I was rapidly losing blood. As I suspected, it had nicked an important artery and combined with the wound I had in my stomach, it was no wonder I lost consciousness. It took them
hours to fix me, and then I had months of recovery with my leg, learning to use it properly so I wouldn’t be attached to the stupid cane.

  I’ve heard enough jokes about me trying to take the “cane thing” from Lachlan to last me a lifetime.

  We got married in Paris a year after that with only Lachlan as our witness. Since we both liked the land where my original house stood, we cleaned it all up and rebuilt it, adapting designs to our plans to expand our family someday. We hadn’t expected it to happen quite so soon, but life is bliss regardless.

  We’d travelled to Chicago to her grandmother, who surprisingly had a change of heart and apologized to Callista for all the hardships she had to go through.

  In my opinion, it was a little too late, but for my woman… she welcomed this bridge to a relationship. She travels with the girls to Chicago four times a year, staying with her grandmother and exploring the city. She even transferred all her shares to the girls, claiming all Castillos need a trust fund. Whenever I remind her they are Scotts, she ignores me.

  Callista finished her psychology degree; she decided to help people in a different way, and now works in shelters for abused women, helping them find the way in this new world while my dark life stayed the same.

  I continue to kill those who I think deserve it the most, enjoying their cries from being tortured and how life slowly slips from their bodies. There is an odd kind of pleasure knowing you kill people who crave the darkness as much as you do, only they don’t use it right.

  Callista doesn’t ask about this part of my life, but she always knows when I come from a fresh kill, hugging me tight and murmuring for me to be careful as she doesn’t want to lose me.

  There are no guarantees in this world though, yet I still continue to promise her that, hoping there won’t ever come a day when my woman decides to leave me, because God help us both…

  I’d never allow it.

  She can believe she’s had her freedom all these years, doing as she pleases, but the truth of the matter is… she is still my captive, my most beloved captive and possession, in this world that no one will ever take away from me.