The Lonely (The Lonely #1)

The Lonely (The Lonely #1) Page 20

It's Eli, but it's not the voice of my benefactor who has talked to me all this time. I'm so confused. I'm scared that Uncle Daddy is hurt and Eli has him captured as well.

I can't stop staring at him, "I need to go. Please. I can't do this anymore."

"Go to the door and wait. I will come and get you. It's almost New Year's Eve." He looks at me one last time and then the screen freezes.

I put the phone down.

The door opens.

I see his hand.

I stand on my shaky legs and walk to him. It's sick and wrong and I hate myself for it, but I like the touch.

He drags me down the hall. It's toward the bathroom. He opens the door. It's light and bright and empty.

"Clean up." I look at him, checking for the joke or the twist in the plot. He steps back. I walk into the bathroom and close the door slowly. I watch his face in the gap as I close it. I click the lock. It's the best I've felt in ages.

I climb into the huge shower and turn it on. I turn the water to hot and let it scald my skin. There are things that try to flash into my mind in the shower, but I push them back. Something about his face is there still, picking at me.

I wash myself and shave everything and triple rinse. I was feeling like a wooly mammoth. I climb out pruned and beat red.

I pull on the clean robe that's folded on the counter and leave the bathroom. He is standing in the hallway. I frown, "Were you there the entire time?"

He nods, "I was."

I scowl, "Scared I'd get away?"

He laughs and shakes his head. I catch myself noticing his dimple. "No. I stayed in case you were scared."

His kindness puts me off. I want to hate him. No one has ever inflicted the kind of pain he has on me. He tried to drown me. I need to remember that. I am dead inside because of him.

He holds his hand out. I take it. I don’t know why. He walks beside me, still leading. He opens a door in a hallway I've never seen. I look around, "Is this place like a whole floor of a building? It's weird with all the hallways."

His eyes sparkle. He brings me to a room with a dark purple bed and regular furniture. He turns and leaves. I'm confused.

The bed is big and inviting. I climb up onto it and rest my head on the oversized pillow. I'm so tired my eyes burn. They flutter and in the flashes of light I see him again. I open my eyes. He crawls onto the bed with me and smiles, "There is something important we need to talk about." He's being so nice. It scares me. I'm prepared for his behavior when he's acting like an ass, but his kindness is alarming.

I shake my head, "I'm too tired. If you're going to kill me, just do it. I don’t care anymore. I'm done."

"You're prepared to die?"

I nod and swallow, "I am dead. You have killed everything inside of me."

"Have you ever feared I would kill you?"

I shake my head, "No." I'm too tired to lie, but I manage to squeak that one out.

"Liar."

I smile and think about Sebastian. I would die a thousand deaths to be in his arms, in his penthouse, eating that damned meal the chef prepared. If I ever get out, I'm hunting his ass down and forcing him to repeat that night. I need a do-over.

Eli lies beside me and sighs, "If you had one wish what would it be?"

"I don’t know. To be normal I guess." There is no guess. It's been my wish since I was tiny.

He kisses the top of my head, "You wanted to know why I cared what your name was?"

I nod against his soft lips pressed against my forehead. I'm too tired to freak out but my inner alarms are losing it.

"My sister was named Emalyn. The Spicers were the couple that kidnapped us both."

I close my eyes. The silent tears burst from my eyes no matter how hard I press them shut. I break my vow to never cry for him again.

The memories start slowly. "You are the boy in the hole." I whisper terrified. "From the house. Eli? That was your name?"

He nods. I can feel a tremble coming off of him.

"You saved me." I whisper again. I feel like we are in my dark cell, both of us trapped there. "I killed your sister."

The words force the curtain down. The floodgates burst, bringing everything with it. Every memory is running forwards and backwards until I am stuck with only one image-him standing in the room with the dead girl, holding his hand out to me. It was the first time he had ever done that to me. I curl into myself and cry until I sleep.

Chapter Thirteen

My eyes flutter a bit. The warmth of him is there still. I'm frozen. Not in The darkness but in genuine fear. The tables have turned on me. I am the one who wronged him. I am the one who owes him. I am the one who broke him. I deserved every injury he has inflicted upon me. I deserve so much more than what he has done to me.

I murdered his sister. His name is Eli and he saved me, after I murdered his sister. He held his hand out and took mine in it. He pulled me to safety.

I glance up. His face is so beautiful. In his sleep I see the face of the boy so clearly, I can't believe I missed it. My hero. He blinks and looks down on me. He smiles and breaks my heart. My nose wrinkles involuntarily.

He laughs softly and squeezes me. The dimple. Of course I remember the dimple. The dimple, the icy-blue eyes, the dark hair, the hand reaching for me.

He moans, "We haven’t slept beside each other in fourteen years and it still feels the same." He says it so softly and sweetly.

I hate myself in a thousand different ways.

He kisses my forehead. Slowly he works his way down to my cheek. He kisses and moves on to my nose. I close my eyes making a single tear creep down my cheek. He kisses my tear. "You're safe now. You remember it all. You're safe." He whispers.

I don’t know what that means. I can't speak.

"I never blamed you. I saw what was happening. I saw you make the choice to try to save her."

I shake my head. I'm so ashamed. "I can't do this." I mutter and curl into him, trying desperately to hide. I'm craving darkness and being alone. "Put me back in the cell." I say quietly.

He holds me to him, "No. You need to tell me the things you remember. I know you remember them now."

I'm aching in every place I can. "The Grande Canyon." I whisper.

My tears are leaving dark spots on his dress shirt.

"What else?"

"The dirty house."

"What else?"

I squeeze my eyes shut, "My name."

He holds me tight to him. We are almost one person we are so close.

"Do you see why I brought you here?"

I sob.

"Why?" He demands.

Heaving sobs leave my lips, "To punish me for helping them. For killing her. For stealing her name and pretending to be her."

He grabs my face and lifts it, "No. No you're missing the point." He climbs off the bed, he looks savagely angry. He paces like a madman. He looks at me and shakes his head, bewildered. I don’t know what I've done wrong this time, unless the anger is left over from everything else. Then it's justified.

"Don’t you see? All of it was so obvious?"

I shake my head. He grabs the footboard and shakes the bed, "GOD DAMMIT! I'M TRYING TO SAVE YOU! I'M TRYING TO FREE YOU!" He takes a breath and calms himself, "All of this has been planned to free you. You were never going to get better."

My breath has reached a new level of ragged despair.

"You were always trapped in that house. You never left it. You took her life and never lived it. She would have wanted you to live, Sarah. You've hidden it all away and punished yourself for something that was never your fault. Don't you see that?"

My name hurts me. I pull the blankets up to my lips. The kaleidoscopes in my eyes make angles and sharp points in the bright light of the room and the severe look on his face. I realize he has never said my name before. He has never ever called me Emalyn. All along he knew I wasn’t Emalyn. This is the first time he has addressed me by a name. Confusion and darkness make my heart beat in my throat and my stomach threaten to spill.

He points at me, "You will tell me the story. Now you choose how you want it. By the fire or in the dark cell or in the tub or in the bed." His voice is demanding and desperate.

"The dark." I whisper.

He nods and holds a hand out. I climb from the bed and stumble to his hand. He grips me tightly and drags me to the door. He pulls and jerks my hand until we reach the cell. He flings open the door and drags me inside. He slams the door shut, making an echo in the dark.

I creep to my corner and sit. Stuart doesn’t try to talk to me. I press my back into the corner and slip down the wall. I'm scared where he is. Eli is insane. Not that he doesn’t have a reason. Now I'm the one making excuses, giving him the 'doing well Band-Aid' and pity.

I can hear his feet on the floor. He's pacing still. His breath is ragged.

I close my eyes and see it all. The sunshine and the way it made her blonde hair glisten. The smile on her sweet face. I feel sick. I'm crippled by guilt and pain and sorrow. I look down and feel the tears drip onto my hands. My hands that I have tried so hard to clean and yet here they are, still covered in her blood.

My voice is blank when I speak, "I think they had been doing it a long time. I don’t know if I was their kid or if they took me. I don’t have very many memories before you came. I remember other kids at the house though. They would stay for a short time and then be gone and Randy would start to get edgy and angry. I was in the hole before we met you and Emalyn."

I can see the picture so clearly. I know he knows what the hole is. I remember seeing his bright blue eyes looking at me through the gap between the board and the ground. His desperate blue eyes. I'm grateful I can't see him now.

I continue, "She pulled back the lid and dragged me out. Said we were going for a car ride." My voice breaks with sickening guilt and harsh pain. I'm dying inside. My brain is working against me, changing the memories. It is my own desperate attempt to push it all away and make everything tidy again.