I nodded, “He moved in here a bit before my seventeenth birthday.” She turned and finally found a clue to his presence.

  Anya lifted a small glass bowl from the nightstand and eyed the array of pills in the bottom. She glanced at me with worry in her eyes. I huffed at the temptation to fret about Hugh and his history with pills.

  She emptied the bowl over her shoulder. I heard the clink of blue, white, and green pills bouncing around the room before she settled the glass back. “Which was yours?”

  I tried to smile as I lead her from the room, down the hall, and opened the door to the past. I stepped back, refusing to enter.

  Anya looked around at the pieces of me still living there. Her fingers trailed along the circle of scarred wood around the bedpost. “Why doesn’t this room have carpet?” she asked. I shrugged. My throat seemed to swell closed.

  She could see my apprehension and walked to me, closing the door behind herself. “I’m sorry. I was curious.”

  “I understand.”

  I was grateful as she led me back toward the stairs. I looked across the sea of glittering jewels, masks, and colors. I searched for him before gasping deep and sinking into the crowd.

  ✷✴✷

  Anya seemed enchanted yet rightfully wary of everything. I followed her as she gazed around and faltered when she made her way into the ballroom.

  Beau pounced, his hand reaching for mine. “Let’s dance,” he demanded as though he held all of the power. I pulled away and Anya stepped forward, defusing the bomb.

  “Spin me around a couple times,” she told him. I smiled appreciatively as they disappeared into the rhythmically swaying pulse of ballroom dancers. I set the diary on the edge of a table and leaned against the wall to watch.

  I yelped as a hand pressed to my back and steered me towards the dance floor. I spun on the intruder as he grasped my waist and hand before leading us lithely into the steps.

  I glared at the masked man and my throat ran dry. The blue pierced my mind. I became immersed in his emotions as they radiated from his eyes, recognizing the pain and anger. I understood them all but the for destructive longing.

  “Why would you come here?” he whispered vehemently. The diary became forgotten as his voice drenched me.

  I didn’t battle against the confusion of what was happening in my heart, the way it tumbled as though overjoyed. “Elizabeth’s demands are always met,” I answered.

  His face pulled back as he scanned the crowd. “You made your appearance, now leave.”

  I never fully expected my twisted fantasy to come into play. I needed to hear the destructive words even as I trusted his hands as they gripped and guided. He wouldn’t let me fall though I knew he was likely to be the reason I did.

  “Why?” My face lifted to his in defiance. He looked away again, his teeth pressing into the soft skin of his lip. I nodded at his silence. “How did you know it was me? Most of my face is covered.”

  He dipped his lips to my ear. My soul shivered with glee to be so close. My body tightened against his, and his fingers clenched in response. I knew the emotions rocking me were wrong but suppressed the thought, consoling my mind by telling it they were simply habit.

  “Even if I couldn’t see every inch of your skin, I know you by the way you move. The way you hold your head,” I turned my face to see if the agony in his words matched his eyes. Emotions quivered in the timbre of his voice. “The way you can make your string of a spine look iron strong.” The scar on his knuckle grazed against my exposed back. “You smell like home- lavender and rosemary. I knew the moment you arrived. I could feel it.” His eyes met mine even through the lace.

  His lips parted as his chest trembled against mine. There was more he wanted to say, something dark stilling his tongue against a dangerous truth. I wanted to pry it from him and take his pain as my own.

  He released me and I stumbled. His fingers kept me upright barely long enough to hold me from tumbling. His back turned and it should have been answer enough but it never would be.

  I twirled as he pulled the mask from his face and flung it to the ground beneath the feet of oblivious dancers. He swiped at his eyes as he moved too fast, away from me and all of my questions.

  Chapter 43- Pare

  I raced as fast as I could, grabbing the diary as I passed. I’ll never catch him in these shoes.

  I froze at the grand steps in the foyer and strained my neck over the tops of the heads of strangers and searched for his ebony spirals.

  My logic resurfaced in his absence. My teeth began to grind at the whirling sounds of laughter and Christmas music. My mind fuzzed from the twinkling lights and winking jewels. Static began to fill my head.

  I saw the one still body. She held a champagne flute as she stared over the heads of her guests in my direction. A scowl deepened the lines of her face. I turned, needing an escape and praying he’d be there.

  I dashed behind the staircase to the library, the haven within my prison. I threw open the door and growled in dismay. One dim light shone from the reading table across the expansive loneliness.

  I slumped onto my favorite leather loveseat, feeling lost. I threw the dairy across the room with a heavy thud as my heart wrenched.

  It was cruel. Our entwining roots would never release me. My head filled with the lies, possibilities, and fears.

  He felt so real and broken. It shattered and healed my mind. The painful new torture tasted sweet as I relished in the tingle still running up my spine from his touch.

  I stiffened at the sound of the heavy door closing with a snap.

  “You thought you could hide from me,” Beau teased, his mask looking devilish in the lamplight. He tossed it to the table as he stepped forward.

  I sprang to my feet as he neared. “Leave me alone.”

  His hands clamped down on my shoulders before throwing me back. I fell to the loveseat and glared up at him.

  He leaned forward, the grin on his face making me swallow in fear. His fingers lifted my mask. He leaned back, admiring the new makeup style.

  I glanced toward the closed door. My heart failed. I had done the one thing I knew I shouldn’t have. I let myself be backed into an empty room. My fate was in the hands of the worst kind of monster, one who enjoyed destroying lives for his own amusement.

  I leaned away as he bent forward. He gripped my face and turned it to his. Panic rose as his lips crushed mine. I shoved at his chest but his weight pressed me back. A growl rumbled in my chest as I clamped my teeth onto his lip, tearing.

  His hand crashed into my face and I fell back, my neck screaming as it met the armrest.

  “Get off of me,” I gasped.

  He pressed his knees into my legs to pin them. I glanced to the door and prayed someone could hear me scream over the sounds of the party.

  The fabric of my dress tore as I writhed beneath him. My lungs fought against me as I tried to scream for help. My voice felt weak as the adrenaline in my veins repressed it.

  I tried again, futilely attempting to calm my mind. My chest began to shake in sobs as he pulled my wrists above my head.

  He weighed me into the sofa as his mouth bared down on my breasts. My skin tore beneath his teeth. It felt as though he was seeking revenge for my escape so many years ago.

  “Help,” I cried, bucking, useless, and weak.

  The library door flung open and I threw my head back. Elizabeth lowered the silver mask from her face as her eyes widened in shock.

  Beau didn’t notice her presence as I screamed at her, “For once, please help me!” I sighed in disbelief and relief as she rushed forward.

  Beau lifted his head from my bruising ribs, staring up at her as she hesitated. He didn’t have the decency to scramble away and make excuses.

  “No,” I whispered as Elizabeth leaned over me, loosening his bow tie.

  I cried in shock and rage as she shoved the black silk into my mouth. Her eyes sparkled with malice and victory before she turned and walked calmly from the library.

  By the time I heard the library doors close, I was blind from the swelling tears. I filled with rage at the maniacal, masculine chuckle above me.

  My body tensed in fury as I screamed through silk. My mind melted with the fire of terror. One rough hand gripped my wrists together as the other began to climb between my clenched thighs.

  His mouth searched for satisfaction on my throat. I tried to remember Anya’s advice on self-defense. My mind blanked.

  Fingers inched beneath my panties. My stomach tried to heave. After everything I survived he would be the one to rob me of my dignity. The thought broke something in my mind. My head filled with a feral howl of determination.

  I arched my back as far as I could while focusing on the shift of his hips. He reached for his belt. I was running out of time. His fingers fumbled. I heard the zipper on his slacks release.

  I twisted my knees as I curled in and slammed my wrists through his hand. My elbows miraculously connected with the top of his skull.

  He faltered, releasing a sob of pain and rage. I reached for the back of the sofa and spit the tie into his shocked face.

  I heaved myself up and used my legs to shove him. His head cracked against the coffee table as he tumbled to the floor.

  Terror tried to lock me as he attempted to stand. I raised the heel of my shoe, using the weight of my body to drill it into his cheek. I felt the pop of his flesh as it gave and watched as he curled into the pain.

  I scrambled up and dashed for the door while gathering the torn fabric of my dress. I lifted the diary from the floor and wrapped myself around it. Beau began to rise, spitting blood as he stumbled forward.

  I rushed from the room, into the crowd, and pushed my way through the bodies. Disgruntled notes of exasperation assaulted me as I shoved towards the front door.

  The mass shifted and began to push their backs to me. Their voices rose but no one noticed the fallen, disgraced being desperate to escape them.

  I heard the hush and spun, searching for Anya. The crowd was gathered tight around the base of the stairs.

  Near the top stood Anya, Elizabeth hovering over her. Their aggressive body language made a collective gasp rise. Women clutched the jewels around their necks as Anya’s hand lifted.

  I watched in pride as Anya, radiant with rage, slapped Elizabeth across the face. A bubble of hope swelled as Elizabeth stumbled, but imploded as she grasped the banister. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of her lips.

  I was pushed into the dining room as servants rushed to make room for larger men racing to save the queen.

  Startled exclaims grew louder as people turned towards the rough shouts of my rising predator. Anya’s eyes found me and she called out, fighting her way down the stairs.

  I caught a glimpse through the crowd of Beau’s furious, bleeding face. His voice boomed words of pardon as he fought his way through the crowd, searching for me. I shook my head at my fiery angel, motioning for her to run.

  I spun and dashed through the kitchen, creating shouts from the employed. Some demanded I turn back while others tried to stop me and inquire for my safety. I ignored them all as I fumbled into the stark white hall. My feet lead the way to safety- to the room I knew to be empty.

  The attic was abandoned.

  I tried to keep quiet as I ran. I threw my shoes to the side for silence. I slammed into the door that led to the spiraling stairs and closed it, leaning against it and listening.

  Doors slammed open as my name bounced off the walls. He was nearing too quickly. I thought of Anya and questioned her safety once Beau realized he couldn’t reach me.

  I almost laughed as an image of her knocking him down flashed in my mind.

  I climbed the steps, clinging to the rail as I rushed with the diary weighing heavily against me. My stockings made the steep climb slick and dangerous.

  I reached the door at the top and sighed in relief as I threw myself into the room, locking myself inside. I couldn’t contain the trembling of fear and relief. I had done it. I had escaped.

  Chapter 44- Trussed

  Hugh

  I tore myself from her and left her among the fine-dressed cattle in the ballroom. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. I could do nothing but feel.

  I felt my insides scream in remorse and rage the further from her I ran. I felt the stairs beneath my feet as I fled. I felt the urge to fling myself over the banister as I neared the top.

  I tore into the room that wasn’t mine- would never be mine. It was always his. Who was I?

  I thought I’d eaten enough of the pills to stand through the ball, but the sight of her was sobering. I slid to the floor, my bowl and life empty.

  I seethed as I tried to understand why Elizabeth forced her here. I behaved. I became William. I had lost Hugh.

  Memories of Olivia slew my mind- her haunted eyes from the beginning and her gaunt face at the end. She glowed even in agony. She never wanes.

  I lifted the two random pills by my feet and without thought swallowed them. I struggled not to resent Olivia. I made this decision and never thought to stop. She was too much to risk. If I couldn’t have her, I might as well lay upon the altar and bleed.

  I relaxed and welcomed the numbing bliss of my body. My mind fogged as the colors around me brightened. I heard the door slam open and closed. I heard the voice full of rage from the woman towering over me.

  “How dare you have the audacity to hold her, to look at her, to dance with her?” I lifted my face to Elizabeth and grinned.

  I wanted to spit out, ‘I don’t give a fuck anymore,’ but what came out was the practiced, “I’m sorry Elizabeth, she was so pathetic I simply meant to lift her spirits.”

  It had been a while since I was forced to use those words. The first time, Elizabeth had found me outside of Olivia’s door with a letter written to explain my absence. She almost killed Olivia as a result. Instead, I let her lock me in the closet. Three days I was there. I never complained.

  I realized the words didn’t placate. Her sigh was heavy, “I’m done playing this game with you.”

  I sighed in relief and fear as I hung my head. I was weary from too many years of being called by the wrong name, his memories told to me repeatedly until they felt like my own.

  I was sick from the constant need to numb every moment of my existence and the innumerous overdoses. There were several times when Elizabeth seemed to grasp her sanity and realize I couldn’t be her perfect William- or so I thought, until the day she threw a chair at my face for killing myself.

  I stood slowly, waiting for her to admit defeat. Her eyes were calm, cold, and calculated.

  “You’re mine, William. You won’t keep teasing me and making me jealous by playing with other girls.”

  I shook my head, frustrated with myself for even hoping for an end to the farce. I closed my eyes as she stepped closer, knowing the blue bothered her when they were supposed to be brown. I knew her lips would press to my throat.

  I was expected to hold her waist, but I hesitated. Moments before, Olivia was in these hands.

  Elizabeth kissed along my jaw and neck as I cringed. I didn’t have enough drugs in my system to deal, yet too many to think fast enough.

  She pulled away. I felt her glaring up at me. I knew better than to open my eyes. I knew better than to look at her. I knew how furious it made her.

  I did it anyway.

  The glass bowl cracked over my jaw and the glass splintered against my mouth. I realized how numbed I was with the delayed sensation of pain.

  “Fuck,” was all I could mutter. She shoved against my chest and I stumbled onto the bed. I lifted to my elbows and glared up at her. “What are you doing?” I demanded as she crawled next to me.

  “You’ve always had trouble with authority William, but this time,” she sank her lips close to my ear. Her voice changed back into the malicious tones she used to use. “She’s trapped beneath a man who will gladly rape and kill her. I suggest you obey.”

  I shoved at her, backing away until my skull hit the headboard. “Stop this, Elizabeth. You promised,” I reminded her.

  “You swore to forget her,” she hissed, clinging to me, her legs wrapping around my waist. “I’ll make you forget her.”

  “No,” I grabbed her wrists and twisted, watching her face pain. It was satisfying. I couldn’t stop as I began to twist harder. “You’re not doing this. You won’t hurt her. I’m here, as I’ve always been. I’m your brother,” I lied.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “When I left her, Beau was already beneath her dress. If you want her to live, you’ll release me and succumb.”

  I realized how weak she was as she grimaced and struggled against my strength. I could reach with my other hand, twist her neck. What would happen to Olivia without Elizabeth’s demand to release her? What if I couldn't get to her in time?

  Shock and agony filled me as she slipped through my fingers. I trembled in fear and disgust, Olivia’s face in my mind. It had gone too far. What could I do?

  Sacrifice. I always had. I always would. As my mind screamed to make her stop, her hands found the places belonging to Olivia. Her hips moved against mine. “I’m your brother,” I whimpered again.

  She ignored me as she pulled my jacket away. Her fingers moved quickly, rough over the buttons of my shirt. I raked my hands over my face, trying to wake up from the nightmare.

  I needed to wake up in Olivia’s bed, in her arms. The past year was part of my own horrible imagination. It couldn’t be real.

  Elizabeth had promised she wouldn’t cross my boundaries. I was powerless to stop her. Her hands moved over my pants as my body began to betray me.

  “No,” came from my lips. Denial sank deep into my bones as my vision ran red. She pooled her skirt over her thighs as she unbuckled my belt, a palm over my mouth so she wouldn’t hear the word again.

  “See, this is what you want,” she said as gripped me through my trousers.

 

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