And then, the world went black again.
I had new handcuffs on when I woke, shackled to the wall of a grey cement room. Thomas was free to wander and stuff stale French fries in his mouth, forcing some into mine even though I warned I’d bite him. I didn’t know if it was day or night. Nor did I care. And when we were both blindfolded and forced onto a plane, I passed out again. When I came to, dizzy and shaking with hunger from dehydration and the lingering effects of the tranquilizer, Thomas reminded me to be grateful it had been shot into my neck and not my eye. I was just grateful I wasn’t alone in this.
When it came time to stand and get off the plane, I was too weak to shrug off the hands keeping me from falling over. There was no heat. No wind. Our footsteps echoed in a cavernous space. I thought I heard Oliver. I thought I heard Kaya. And when I called out to both, all I got back was a sharp slap to the head.
“I’ll put more tranquilizers in ya,” warned Broken Nose, his nasally voice unmistakable. “That’ll stop your heart for good just so ya know.”
“Just keep your mouth shut,” Thomas recommended.
I pretended to take heed, but really, I was fading fast. I could barely hold my head up when I was slammed into a chair, hands secured behind my back again. Voices came in and out of the fog that was settling over my mind. One stuck.
“Why is this man chained and the other one not?” asked a male I hadn’t heard till now.
“He’s a fighter. Took out six of our best men, two while handcuffed.” I recognized the voice of the man in leather. “If he could be controlled, he’d be a good one for the team.”
“I’ll take that under advisement, Troy.”
Heavy footsteps came my way. The blindfold was untied, but I could barely get my eyes to stay open. If I weren’t bound to the chair, I would have fallen over.
“Luke, is it?” said a man with unruly red hair and a greying beard. The rest of his features swam before my eyes. I tried to bring his sharp nose and close-set eyes, into focus. “Kaya is still alive,” he said, expressionless. “Let’s keep it that way for now. All right?”
Gasoline and oil fumes permeated the air. Crates were piled in a corner. Towering ceilings and dim lights soared overhead. We were in an airplane hangar. But there were flowers. Lots of them. Daisies wilting in boxes and dumped on the floor before us. It was so weird I couldn’t decide if I was dreaming or awake.
Then I heard her scream. Bone chilling and terrifying. Kaya let out a bloodcurdling wail that urged every part of me to explode out of the chair. But the bearded man staring at me was expecting that.
“Are you going to behave?” he asked.
Another scream.
I nodded enthusiastically and with a snap of his fingers, Kaya became silent.
Thomas, in a chair next to me, bent over and threw up.
The bearded man snapped orders to Troy, who was rubbing at the tattoos on his neck. “Get this mess cleaned up and address their wounds. Make sure they are fed and watered. Once Miss Lowen is prepared, we will get started.”
Get started?
Fog crept in and out of my vision as my hands were untied, wrists bandaged, and water put to my lips. I held myself upright in the chair as best I could. I wouldn’t dare move in case it caused them to make Kaya scream again. When the floor was cleaned, the bearded man stopped to stand in front of Thomas.
“I’m John Marchessa,” he said. “Who are you?”
“My name is Thomas.”
“Does Henry know your face?”
Thomas nodded. “Yes. He shot me once.”
John Marchessa’s eyes lit up. “So, you’re not pals then I take it.”
Thomas shook his head.
“And you?” he asked standing before me. His fingernails were dirty, and hands calloused. I found that strange. “Does Henry know your face?”
“Yes.”
“Name?”
I had no energy or reason to lie. “Luke.”
“Ah good. That’s very good,” he said, toying with his beard. Then he kneeled before me, not afraid in the least. “Can you keep your eyes open for another ten minutes, Luke?” he asked, clutching my chin so my gaze met his.
A cold terror clutched my heart. “Yes,” I said, sounding feeble. “Please, though, don’t hurt her. I beg of you. I’ll do anything.”
He laughed, an outright cackle with a bone-chilling timbre that split my spine in two. “Believe me, in a few minutes someone is going to be hurt.”
I bolted upright and was shoved back down. At some point, cameras had been set up. Lights aimed. Daisies scattered about what could have been a small stage before me and Thomas. I realized then Kaya’s death was going to be filmed, and I couldn’t contain the roar that came from within me. Before I could lash out, Troy’s leather covered hands had me tied to the chair. Ankles, too.
“Let’s not take any chances with these two,” he said to John Marchessa.
Thomas was restrained as well. Once we were alone, a muffled sob escaped him.
“For what it’s worth, Luke, you are the better man,” Thomas said, shaking so violently I could hear his teeth rattle.
“Not better.” I was fighting hard to not scream. “Just the one she chose.”
The cameras were being turned on.
I heard Kaya’s voice.
She said one word—no.
And that one word sent my mind into overdrive. Every part of me thrashed in agony to go to her, but it was completely futile.
Troy put his gun to my head.
“He’s going to kill her,” I said to him, to the cold barrel pushed against my temple. “John Marchessa… he is, isn’t he?”
Troy sounded completely unconcerned. “Uh, yeah I guess.”
The world fell away in a wave and crashed back in agony. “Then kill me first,” I said, unable to process any way of getting her out of here. Or saving myself. Or Thomas. “Shoot me now and get it over with. Please.”
Troy wasn’t expecting that. He silently turned away and marched off, leaving Thomas and I alone to stare at each other.
“You’ll have to do it,” I said to him. “If she dies, at your first opportunity, just do it. I can’t go on if she—oh God. Thomas, promise me… if you have the chance, you will end my life. Promise me.”
There were tears in his eyes. “I hate you, but I can’t kill you.”
“You owe me,” I said, desperate to disappear from this nightmare.
Thomas took a moment. “All right.”
I closed my eyes. Kaya appeared to me in the green dress she was wearing the day we met. It swirled around her, emerald eyes flashing. I would hold onto that memory forever. And when she floated to the edges of my vision, fading into the darkness, I followed.
I woke to the sound of Oliver’s voice and my neck screamed in agony when I twisted to see him. On the other side of Thomas, Oliver was tied to a chair like we were. One eyelid was swollen shut, his lips were caked with blood, and his nose was certainly broken.
“You’re alive,” I said, relieved and terrified for him all at the same time.
“Darn straight,” he choked, then wordlessly hung his head forward.
“The old boy doesn’t look so good,” Thomas needlessly pointed out. “Neither do you, Luke. Ya gotta quit nodding off. I think you’re dead when you do that.”
“Not sure why you care, Thomas.”
“I don’t,” he replied rather quickly.
There was just the three of us beneath dimmed lights and rolling cameras. Sitting. Waiting. Oliver barely conscious. He didn’t budge when I asked him about Marlene, but at the sound of her voice he jolted to life. Her threats pierced the quiet hanger with the grating force of a chain saw. Through the doors, swinging and swearing while blindfolded, two men struggled to get her onto a chair. Only when Oliver muttered her name did she become perfectly still. Blindfold off and blinking him into focus, she gasped in horror when she saw his face, then tried desperately to be brave as tears rolled down her cheeks.
Oliver forced a smile. “You better.”
Then it was dead silent again. A spotlight was turned on and aimed at the floor before us. Daises were scattered. It was clear that now we were just waiting for the star of the show.
John Marchessa strode onto the stage. “Well, I must say, I am glad you are all here.” He gave Marlene an inquisitive stare. “Tell me, my dear,” he said, shielding his eyes from the light. “What part do you play in this? Who are you to Kaya Lowen?”
Marlene’s voice was strong, but I detected panic just below the surface. “I’m her best friend.”
“And you pretended to be Kaya at the Masquerade ball, marrying Oliver. Why?”
There was no need to lie. Marlene could see that. “So she could get away from Henry.”
“Right. Right.”Marchessa stepped back and regarded each of us again. “So, let me get this straight,” he said and pointed at Marlene. “Best friend.” His finger hovered in Oliver’s direction. “Bodyguard.” Then at Thomas he hesitated and said, “Boyfriend. And you…?” He was pointing at me now. “Betrothed.” He clasped his hands together, pleased as if he’d put together a difficult puzzle. “Isn’t that convenient. Well, not so much for you, eh, boyfriend? You won’t last long in the picture. She whimpered a bit when I threatened to put a bullet in your head if she didn’t obey, and she outright went into convulsing hysterics when I threatened her with Luke’s life. So you probably should set your sights on another girl.”
Thomas seemed to be the only clear thinking one of all of us. I was still seeing spots in my vision, Oliver could not keep his head up, and Marlene had gone into a glassy-eyed frozen stare once she’d realized what the cameras were for.
“You can’t help who you love,” Thomas replied.
“Love?” said John, wincing at the word. “For a hundred bucks you can find ‘love’ anywhere you want. A thousand gets you the best kind of love for a whole night.”
“Pathetic,” Thomas spat. “And weak.”
Marchessa cringed ever so slightly. “I am not weak, young man. You are. And you know why.”
And that reason why was dragged across the room and deposited center stage before us. They had put her in a long, flowing white dress, and it trailed out behind her. Her hair was pinned up with daisies and her lips painted a horrible deep berry red. Kaya blinked and shielded her eyes from the light when John untied the blindfold, and my heart broke over and over and over. I couldn’t watch. I couldn’t…
“Oliver? Marlene?” she said, noticing them first and taking a small step closer. She stopped, and her gaze fell to Thomas. The way she said his name, putting her hand to her chest and heading toward him, hurt my heart. Until her eyes found mine.
Tears started streaming down her cheeks. “Luke,” she said with a gasp.
Glancing quickly behind her into the dark of the room, she tripped over her bare feet to get to me. Her arms thrown around me released a sob deep in her throat, and I blissfully returned her embrace by burying my face in her hair. I let my senses explode with everything about her, the warmth of her mouth as it carefully grazed mine, and the feel of her hands on my cheeks searching my face for wounds.
“I’m okay,” I said, knowing that was what was on her mind. “I’ll get us out of this.”
She became frantic, moving behind me to work at the handcuffs, and I didn’t bother to tell her to stop even though I could see Troy pulling off his gloves from the corner of my vision.
“All right. That’s enough of that,” John Marchessa said, coming out of the shadows to grab her by the arm and drag her back to where the spotlight was centered. “See there, boyfriend? You should be thankful this little experiment put things into perspective for ya.”
Thomas was panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly, seething with anger while John positioned Kaya where he wanted her. He pushed back a lock of her hair that had come loose, his mouth close to her ear, but I could still hear him. “If you move from this spot, I will kill him first,” he said, motioning in my direction.
Kaya froze.
“So, this is what’s going to happen,” Marchessa said, backing up and straightening the dress fanning out behind her, doing up a button at the back, pulling down the neckline while she stood like a mannequin. “We’re going to make a nice little video for your daddy. I am going to count down from five. When I am done, you are going to state your name and who your father is. Then, Thomas is going to muster up all his anger over you dumping him for the blue-eyed guy over there, as well as get back at Henry for shooting him, and do the deed.”
“The deed?” Thomas stuttered.
“Yes. You get to play the role of jilted ex-boyfriend and shoot Miss Lowen. I was going to do it, but this way I won’t have to worry about any pesky legal implications.”
“No. You can’t make me.”
John lifted the hem of Kaya’s dress, the white satin draping down around his hands as he exposed her thigh. Pushing the barrel of a gun against her skin, I had the briefest hope that it was a tranquilizer gun. But no, this was a regular Smith and Wesson, and John wasn’t joking around.
“If you’re sure you don’t want to do it, I guess I can,” he said, and Kaya tried stoically not to wince at the metal pushing against her leg. “But I’ll do it over the course of a day or so. Putting bullets in her, or knives, or whatever I have lying around this hanger while you all watch her die in the most horrific way imaginable. So here’s your choice, boyfriend, you either end it quick, or I make her suffer.”
Thomas was stunned into silence. Troy untied him from the chair, forced him to stand before Kaya, and then placed the gun in his hand.
“Make sure you shoot her in the chest and nowhere else,” John said. “And if you aim that gun anywhere other than at that exact place, or get any stupid ideas, I’ll use your pals for bait when I go hunting tomorrow.”
Thomas swayed, then blinked hard as if trying to wake from a bad dream.
“I don’t want to suffer,” Kaya said softly.
And the sound of her voice drained the last of my resolve. I couldn’t help but pull against the restraints or help the word no from escaping when Thomas reached out and touched her cheek; he was saying goodbye.
With a glassy stare, he backed away and raised the gun.
My heartbeat rushed into my ears and the room darkened and blurred so the only thing in my line of sight was Kaya. Her eyes locked onto mine and a brave smile crossed her face, meant to comfort me. Marlene was screaming, and Oliver was issuing death threats at Thomas, but my ears were filled with nothing but the roar of my shattering heart.
From behind me, a gun was fired and a bullet grazed Kaya’s bare shoulder. It was a warning that if Thomas didn’t end her soon, the torture would begin.
My beauty stumbled slightly, but still held my gaze and I held hers. It was the only comfort I could give as she mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry’. She sunk to her knees amidst the floor covered in daisies, and for a second, I thought Thomas would drop the gun—his arm was shaking violently—but then something overtook him. He became still as stone. His eyes vacant as silent tears poured down his cheeks. He was going to do it… he was going to do it…
My body went numb as I pulled from the pit of me the most important thing I would ever say—Kaya, I love you… I love you… I love you…
Her gazed remained fixed on mine. “I love you too,” she mouthed.
I repeated it, as if maybe it could change the world, change this thing happening to us. I said it over and over until it became a guttural scream when Thomas pulled the trigger, and her chest exploded in red.
For a moment the world stood still.
Then sobbing. My own. Uncontrollable.
Rage and grief propelled my body toward hers, while the inside of me died in an imploding and violently crushing sort of the most unbearable pain. I held on to the light fading in her eyes, even when Thomas turned his atte
ntion to me, and thankfully, kept his promise.
September leaves remind me of you. I can still feel their heat…
A song?
It pulled me from the void. My first thought as the lyrics tumbled in was that I didn’t think death would hurt. I mean, I wasn’t sure what would happen when the lights went out forever, but I thought I at least wouldn’t feel anything anymore. Amongst my every ache, there was the sensation of Luke’s body next to mine, radiating warmth like the afternoon autumn sun. I wished it were real.
* * *
I dared to feel the most…
Words and music blocked the way to the dark. I was willing to give myself over to it and be released from the anguish clawing at every one of my cells, but the exit greyed and faded with the melody. I couldn’t escape the pain. I couldn’t escape the hurt in her eyes as she died, the agony of losing her an unyielding nightmare I was desperate to break free of. Softly playing, the song brought back memories; her promising me she wouldn’t run, her caring for my wounds and the sparkle in her eyes when she agreed to marry me. What I wouldn’t give for another moment…
Will I ever know your mind again?
The tempo of the song matched the beat of my heart, which I was now certain was still pumping blood to my hands as pins and needles jabbed my fingertips. The void in my chest was filling, and the volume of the song and blood in my veins increasing. A tingle up my spine erased all doubt that what I was hearing was a symphony of pianos and violins—and his deep and very real inhales and exhales.
Are you gone with the ghost?
Rhapsody Page 29