Chapter 29

"Here." Caine uttered, passing me another medicine bottle. His voice was rigid yet somehow soft, like a baby bird.

The bottle was similar to the one last time, the drugs had been strong, and long-lasting. I whimpered from the sting around my labia as I shuffled upright, leaving the bottle by my side. I was disgruntled from all this mess, because everything and everyone around me was trying to hurt me or kill me, and yet always kept failing to do so.

Every breath was a painful reminder that I was still alive and suffering. I didn't think I would ever feel the way I do, I actually wanted to die. Just to get it over and done with. I wanted out of this fucking merry-go-round, and manage to escape this hell hole.

Who in their right mind would be physically able to cope with this if it kept going on? There were only so many times a person could endure being butchered, strangled, starved, raped, and tortured. Caine fidgeted and let out a sigh.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He comforted genuinely, his voice lower than the last. He held his arms up in protest as if to prove a point and I nodded. He scooted onto the bed, and cradled me into his chest, tucking my head under his chin. I couldn"t describe the feeling, but I felt heard. I felt… seen. Like I wasn"t a nobody.

Even though Caine was the reason I was baited and taken here in the first place… his arms were nice to be in. He said nothing, and we just let time pass by in silence. Caine peered at me under his lashes before finally speaking again.

"Can you take them… please? You"re due again, everything must be hurting by now." He tapped at the bottle next to my leg. I nodded and opened the bottle, seeing that they were a different color from the last pills. Perhaps stronger, but I didn't ask. I didn't care.

"Thanks. Umm… did you do these?" I squeaked, pointing to the little tabs on my skin. He nodded with a bright self gratified smirk. "Yes. I've been in here for the past twenty-four hours with you. You were out of it when I did them, but you"ve been awake since then, do you not remember?" He said, passing me a glass of water from the bedside table. I swallowed and downed the pills with the water.

I shrugged, trying to wrack my brain for a memory, little flashbacks only now coming through of the last twenty-four hours. I remember shivering with a fever and being engulfed in pain. I remember him and Eli muttering to each other in the garage and I remember waking up here, and Caine holding a drink of water at my lips to take my tablets.

Like the time he did at the club. I was so weak and barely conscious but I remember it. I think I remember him taking me to the bathroom, but that memory was foggy. He had been mending my welts from the shadow man. Why? I should have been dead… like they said. "I remember some of it." I admitted softly. He furrowed his brows and shook his head in disapproval. "I shouldn't have left Damon with you, I'm sorry."

I squeezed my thighs together instinctively, the sting hurt but I figured it could have been worse. "What about the shadow man? Where is he?"

He wore a perplexed frown on his face. "The who?" I raised my brow, come on, as if you couldn"t work that out. "Your brother." I stammered dryly. Caine chuckled, humored by my pet name for the shadow man. "He'll be back."

"Oh." I sighed with a great amount of sadness, twiddling my fingers for comfort. Caine"s gaze was warm and content. Why was he helping me? "Why you being nice to me?"

He tutted. "Well, I'm sure you know by now, I'm not a monster. I just have fucked up brothers. Look, I don't know any more than you do, okay? This wasn't part of the plan." He held his hand up in protest again, and I believed him. "You are not supposed to be alive right now. And we don't know why. Hux-" Suddenly, he slammed his mouth shut, was he just about to reveal his name?

"Well… he has gone fucking haywire and we're trying to work out what his deal is. You were everything he's been looking for, Esme. Dragging us along in his ride. Ever since he finally found you…" He sighed, threading his hand through his hair again like he had already said too much. I blew a rapid breath in confusion, shaking my head. "Why me? Why had he been looking for me?" I asked. My frown of concern was desirous.

Caine hesitated but continued anyway, almost giving me the feeling that needing to tell me more information helped him more than it did me. "You're the pawn, Esme."

Okay? What? "What do you mean… pawn? Is it just me? Are the rest of the hostages that keep dying pawns also?" I hounded the questions like I was in an interrogation, I couldn"t spit them out fast enough.

"Yes. Pawns… offerings. Look, I know to you, this is all fucked up. More fucked up than I care to admit. I didn't want any of this." He seemed pained by something. I scoffed. Come on, get to the point. "He's not right in the head Esme, I know. But, he's our brother. He's been in a dark place for years, ever since…" He clenched his jaw, guilt washing over his face, but he didn"t continue.

Frustration rippled through me but I held it in. "Every since?" I prompted him. "The accident. We do what we do for him, we would do anything for him." I stared at him blankly. A moment went by, waiting for him to say something else but he didn't.

"What are they… we, being offered or pawned off for… to? Does it have anything to do with the voices in the lake?" He snookered. "You wouldn't understand." Heat rose under my skin and I finally snapped. "Jesus fucking Christ, Caine. I've already been butchered half to death and survived. If anything, I deserve to fucking know!" I shrieked, startling him.

"I know… I know. I"m trying, we"ve not told anyone all this before. Just bear with me okay?" He said calmly, the glint in his eyes cold and empty. "You're the reason he got in this mess in the first place." I huffed but alleviated the daggers that I was throwing at him mentally for taking so damn fucking long. "Okay, but I don't understand." I confessed. He took a moment, seemingly going into a dark place in his head.

"It happened six years ago."

I tilted my head, realising exactly what he was talking about. I knew for sure. "The accident?" I pushed. I stared at him long enough to make him regret the decision of confessing his life stories to me. His lips pursed and a mixture of emotions washed over his expression, looking mostly of grief before finally giving in.

"Six years ago, almost to the day. He was driving her home." Caine almost lost it there and then, a single tear formed at the base of his eye, he was pained. "It was raining, the roads were wet, and he lost control. The car spun out and smashed into the trees in the gully, rolling seven times into the ditch."

I waited. But nothing followed. "You're missing the part where I have anything to do with this." Albeit, my voice was dry but I was getting sick of waiting. He pinned a brow, and then nudged away the tear with a blink. "Let me finish. They both died at the scene. He was pulled from it first and the paramedic revived him, and only him. He's not been the same since, not without her."

I squirmed. "Who?" Caine peered over his shoulder, his movement filled with urgency. But no one else was here and the door was still closed. "Esme, please, I've told you too much already."

I arched a brow. "Actually, you haven't told me enough. What does it have to do with me?" I pushed again, dominance taking charge of my voice. I think for the very first time in my life.

Caine snuffled as if living the moment like it was yesterday in his brain. A raw memory. "Fuck. He couldn't live without her. He couldn't live with himself. It was killing him from the inside. Until one night… something changed. I couldn"t believe it myself, whatever fantasy land he was in, it was helping him. Until it wasn't. It then started getting worse."

"What was?" I questioned. "The voices. The shadow."

It was slowly starting to make sense. "The ones at the lake?"

"Yes. At first, it started in the late afternoon. He lost control, blacked out and started having hypnotic-like dreams, and nightmares. We tried everything to understand him and the things she – it, said. But they got worse and worse. Controlling his every thought."

"And then what?"

He sighed dramatically. "He tried to kill himself. Because the voice told him to. Because it said it would take his pain away." My heart pounded. I knew that man was suffering from something.

"Tried?" I breathed. An unsuccessful suicide? "Yes. And that's where you come in, Esme. Can you stand?" he asked, a smile tickling his lips.

"I… I can try. Why?"

"I want to show you something. You"ll understand more if I do. As much as I know I'll regret it. I guess, you"re here, so you deserve to know."

I nodded, and we were out the door arm in arm, going snail"s pace down the corridor.

"How did you know I was trying to escape anyway?" I frowned. Caine pulled his phone out, tapping a few buttons before showing me the screen. The garage was on surveillance, the screen replaying a snippet of footage. I was in clear view. Crap. There really was no way of escaping this place without someone watching.

I mentally punished myself, I should have known. I should have remembered that there were cameras everywhere, I had seen them in the shadow man's… office? Whatever that room was. Granted, I wasn't really thinking. I was… touching myself. "Oh." I smiled at the memory coyly.

I paced slowly back and forth beside the beaten-up car in the garage, taking in all of its carnage and clutching the sheet from Caine's bed around my body. The painkillers I took earlier had taken effect, but not enough. Everything fucking hurt still. I pried my neck around to glare at him and he gestured to look inside the car. He wore a worried look, only making my stomach tighten.

Caine had said he could fiddle with the surveillance so no one knew we were in here, but I was not convinced that would work. I tried hard to ignore what was behind the wall on the other side of the garage. That fucking basement. It pounded guilt and sadness into my gut. Knowing well and true that their lives were going to be ended very soon.

I swiped my fingers over the twisted metal and the blood stains on the car. Heavily stained blood marks were scattered over the passenger and driver seats. Granted the blood was dry, and clearly had been for years… six years. I gulped, letting my imagination set the scene. My heart dropped and I could feel my tears building. I shouldn't feel remorse for the shadow man, but I did.

Caine said I had something to do with the shadow man"s suicide. But this accident was before the attempt. So I was hard-pressed to put the puzzle pieces together, but figured being here I would discover what I needed to. Two people had lost their lives in this car. Except, only one made it out. The shadow man. Or H, as they keep referring him to. Hux- something. I pushed aside my wandering mind, turning my attention to the dashboard. It had marks and scratches all over it, from what I gathered… fingernails.

I twisted my neck around to look at Caine again and he nodded, then lowered his head. The memory was clearly splitting through his mind, it was almost as though he had been there. Had he? I doted on him, losing a sibling wouldn't be a good feeling, whether you're blood-related or not. I trailed my fingertips over the rust, and then stared at the bent wheels, and then the crushed bonnet, and smashed windscreen. I peered inside through the passenger window, there were damaged CDs, earphones, books, and ripped-up notes from a journal that were spread throughout the car. It took me a minute to realise that I remembered the shadow man scribbling at a journal the other night.

I didn"t hesitate, I pried at the crumpled door. It didn"t budge so I gave up and leaned in through the broken window, grabbing the notes. Caine shuffled. "Be careful. I don't need you adding to your wounds" He tapped at the screen of his phone again. "Come on." He ushered me back, so I collected all the little torn-up pieces of paper and scurried back to him.

‘My regret will forever be losing you. The truth is too bitter for me. It should have been me. My love, in eternal rest, at my doing. I am not strong enough to continue life without you. What is life worth living if you are not here with me? You were the air I breathed. I cannot stay here anymore, my wounds are a constant reminder, bringing me pain in each breath I take, a pain no one understands. I am so sorry, my love. Please forgive me.I promise I will be with you again. When I end it all, I will see you again.'

My eyes widened as I read the note that I had managed to stick together. I gulped down my mouthful of toast Caine made for me, miraculously without choking. He was quiet and hadn"t whispered a word other than when he offered me a wine. Words failed me. Pain. When I end it all. Scars. So that was where he had gotten all those scars from, from the accident? Or maybe from the suicide attempt?

I wondered how he did it, coming up with a lot of theories but quickly shoved the visions aside. I was clear that the letter was an apology for her death. He had blamed himself for her death, and I gathered that he kept the car in the garage as a reminder. As punishment. I hadn"t yet figured out what it had to do with me, so I dug a little further. I fiddled with another pile of shredded letters for heavens knows how long, but I managed to get the detailing right.

‘Empty promises'

"I called for you in the forest. Where your voice told me to meet you.

You answered. I saw you. But you did not take me.

I offered my all. I held my head under, where the water meets the dark.

My heart was taking its last beat for you. But I woke.

Who was she?

Who was the girl that pulled me from you?

Who took me from you?

I will find her and destroy her. And anyone who looks like her.

Like you asked."

My throat narrowed. This letter was from his failed suicide. Had someone saved him? It couldn"t have been one of his brothers as it was a woman. I turned my attention to Caine with a despairing glare, tapping on the letter scattered on the bar. He was neck-deep in a bottle of red wine. "What does this part mean? Is this what you meant by something to do with me?" He nodded but didn"t offer a speech.

My brow furrowed. What in the hell… how? "But I've never met him. I don't understand." I whispered. My head raced with inconclusive thoughts and emotions.

"I've never saved anyone before. You've got the wrong person. That's not me. I…" I stuttered. I stared at the note a little longer, trying to make some sense, and then peered over at Caine again. He was panting heavily, and pacing the floor with a great amount of guilt and sorrow over his face. "I'm sorry." He croaked, as though something bad were about to happen. Unease hit me like a bull at a gate.

"For what?" I mouthed. Inaudible from a hitched breath, and then I jolted, hearing slow footsteps echoing through the hallway from behind the door, before coming to a stop. My eyes widened, seeing shadows of two feet creeping from under the door. I drew my hand to my mouth to mute my gasps, dreading the next chapter of my fucked up life. A moment passed from hearing my heart in my brain, though it felt like a century, and then the shadow man filled the void of the door. I lost all feeling in my legs, dropping to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

"No. Please…" I fitted into a wallow of sobs. Not again. Not again. I twisted my head back to Caine, seeing that he had his eyes pinned at his feet. Traitor!

Without the opportunity for a breath between sheds of tears, I was being thrown over a shoulder and sauntered down the corridor.

I trembled, blinking for light but none came. I grimaced as the shadow man sat me down on top of the piano and then lit one of the old weathered candles from a shelf on the wall. The room lit up dully from the flickering candle in his hand, realising that we were in the room he had played the piano in... the first time I tried escaping. I quickly glanced around, it looked like a library, there were books everywhere, some even on the floor.

He moved slowly and didn"t speak, nor did I. I was far too terrified, I thought only the worse… would I be in trouble for stealing his key and escaping? I squirmed, bunching the sheet tightly in my grip against me. He placed the candle on the piano's shelf opposite me, lighting up the sheets of music. The grand piano was big and old, it had remanences of black paint smudged over the keys from his fingertips.

My brow furrowed, only now registering that there was not a sliver of anger in his body. He was calm. Too calm. Less than thirty hours ago he had me hanging from his ceiling like a fucking puppet, and was as mad as anything, carving me up like a Thanksgiving turkey, before bleeding me into a bucket and taking me to the lake, where I was supposed to be killed, and then offered to whoever… or whatever it was in the lake, for whatever reason.

Intrusive thoughts swam through my mind… denial. I still wanted the shadow man after all that he had put me through. I couldn't help myself, not even having sex with him in a carcass-infused lake was enough of a deterrent. Why would he think I'm the one who had stopped him from killing himself? They seemed pretty certain I was the one, so what about the others? It was starting to make sense, those women did look like me. Dark or black hair, pasty white skin, freckled faces, and green eyes. It was a pattern. A toxic pattern. He was a fucking psychopath. I stared at him for too long without taking much notice.

He was so fucking… beautiful.

Gah!

A single tear involuntary freed from my eyes. "Don't try to understand me pet." He spoke softly and my heartbeat slowed in an instant. I drew in a breath and summoned every inch of courage from my body. I wanted to hear the truth… from him. I wanted everything. "I want to understand you. I'm not scared of you." I whispered. I was sure I sounded convincing enough. "You should be."

To prove a point I shifted closer to him, hovering my ass over the edge of the piano. The sheet pulled from tension ever so slightly and let my thigh slip free. The mindless tug to know more about the reason I was behind all this was much stronger than my loyalty to my life. He dropped his head to where my leg was poking out, before looking back up again and drawing in a big breath.

"You're playing a dangerous game here, Esmeralda, don't fucking test me." He growled. But I didn't care, I decided this ends now. It has to. "I read your letters."

He tensed. Air hissed through his teeth, and then he planted his hand on my cheek. I flinched, expecting a slap but then I melted into his touch for reasons I didn't understand. He whimpered, raising his other hand to my cheek and the heat of his eyes burned into mine. Though I couldn't see them, I wished I could. I sobbed, I wanted to lose myself in his eyes… I wanted to understand him. Even more so now that I had been told I was the reason he was this way. "Why do you test me? Do you not understand that I am a killer? A monster? And you are my prey?" He held my cheeks with light pressure.

"If you truly wanted me dead, I would be. And I wouldn"t have tape all over my body mending my wounds. You even said yourself… that you can't understand why you haven't killed me yet. And yet, your brain is running a million miles an hour, wondering why you didn't kill me at the lake. You had every chance to. But you didn't." I spoke with only a fraction of courage, he seemed to be eating his words.

I pushed again. "Please. I want to know why. I need to know why." He sighed epicly.

"For six years… I have been hunting you. Because something has been hunting me, for you."