Fiendish Play (29 page)

“Say something.” He pushed me. He wanted a reaction. Anything to justify what he wanted to do.
What he was about to do.
“C’mon Anais.” I felt his finger trail up and down my arm. “Get angry for me. I like it a lot more when you’re angry.”

I avoided looking at him, keeping my voice cool. “Deacon…don’t do this. You’re better than this person. I know you can be a good guy. Don’t be like him.”

I felt his hand stop, his grip tighten around my wrist. “Like who exactly, Anais? My Dad?”

“You’re better than this,” I kept repeating over and over again. “You can be a good person. You won’t hurt me.”

“Sss...Sss...Stop saying that!” Deacon stuttered. He stuttered? His grip even loosened on my arm for a second as my words surrounded us. As much as he was evil, I also knew that when I had my uncle break our betrothal, Deacon was upset. He liked me. Maybe even more than liked me. There was a tiny part of him that felt something more than an arrangement. He had given me a rose when our parents had first decided our future together. And let me tell you, Deacon Elliot doesn’t give out roses. The gesture alone told me that there was a real human being inside him...somewhere. Perhaps if he hadn’t been brought up this way, I could have actually liked him.

“You’re a good guy,” I said, knowing it was the only way I could try and save myself. “You gave me a rose once.” I paused, showing him my sadness for him, trying to draw on his real feelings for me. “And that rose Deacon...it was beautiful.”

“Shut up Anais! Just shut up!” His nails dug into my skin as he fought with his own demons. Maybe his feelings that were once real for me would be enough to stop him. His other hand was on my thigh now, his hand sliding up my dress. His feelings weren’t enough. Not against a life of Lappell servitude. My hands and my body tried to push him away. He didn’t say anything now but he pushed against me more. Then, because it was the only thing I could do, I screamed. So loudly. And at the same time, trying to wriggle free from his vicious grip. My body thrashing to get away. My fighting instinct kicking in. I would go down fighting. That I knew. I would fight for myself and for James. I wouldn’t regret a thing.

Then his body was suddenly ripped away from mine. The horror vanished into thin air. Someone had opened his car door and pulled him out. I saw his feet lying on the ground from where I was seated. Grunting soon followed, then silence. His feet twitching for a few seconds before going still. My body was still shaking from the surge of adrenaline of Deacon’s attack when a face appeared in the open door.

“MARCUS!”

“Are you okay Anais? Did I make it in time?” His hand outstretched to me. The other hand holding a now empty syringe.

“Huh?...What?...You?...How?”

“Look, I know the sight of me makes women speechless, but you really need to come with me now. We don’t have much time.”

I crawled across the seats and got out of the car. I saw a lifeless Deacon passed out on the ground and Marcus’ Mustang parked behind us. I didn’t hear him arrive through all my screaming.

“What did you do Marcus?” I said walking behind him and towards his car.

“I just injected him with something to knock him out. He’ll be fine. But when he wakes in a few hours, he won’t remember anything, especially me.”

I started to cry again. The adrenaline and the weight of what could have happened to me, hitting me hard. I couldn’t feel strong when my body felt so weak.

“Anais...Anais...please don’t flip out. You’re okay now. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.” He opened his car door and helped me in, patting my back in a show of concern. “Look, I’m not good when girls get all emotional. I’ll explain everything, just don’t scream or cry anymore. Please.”

I tried to stifle my own sobs that felt never-ending. But as soon as we started driving away from Deacon and back to town, I was able to quiet my cries. I could even see Marcus relaxing as he turned to me and saw that I had calmed down.

But it was Marcus here in this car? It was Marcus saving me from Deacon?

IT WAS MARCUS?

“I know what you’re thinking Anais. I know what you’re wondering. So I’ll just lay it out for you. I was sent to follow you by your uncle.” I opened my mouth to say something, but Marcus silenced me with his own voice, already anticipating my questions. “Yes your uncle. C’mon Anais. Are you really that surprised? He’s part of the movement. As are my parents. We are part of a group that fights against the Lappell. When James came to Cloverley, I was given the task to watch over him and report back to my superiors. Let them know if he was being coaxed into doing anything he wasn’t supposed to. His family are friends to our cause.”

I hadn’t seen this coming. I had no idea Marcus was connected to anything like this, let alone was watching over James. I had however, suspected that my uncle was part of the movement against the Lappell. Actually,
wished
is a better term than suspected. Some of his actions and decisions never truly fit what was expected from a president. I had always wanted to ask him why he was different. He would take mystery trips overseas. Left recruitment and initiation rituals up to my Dad and Byron. He wasn’t actively helping the Lappell. He didn’t fit the mold of Lappell presidency, but I just chalked it up to his artistic personality. Like James. The Lappell couldn’t possibly put out everyone’s light. Some people just can’t be trained. And when I came to him to beg to be let out of my betrothal, he agreed. Just like that. With little to no concern of the waves it would cause. He wasn’t scared what anyone, including Byron or what my Dad would think. Liam just told me it was taken care of, and that was that. This shouldn’t have come as a surprise to me, but I still felt betrayed he hadn’t told me sooner about this. He hadn’t trusted me to let me in. Perhaps he had a reason for keeping me separated. Membership to that cause was extremely dangerous after all, especially if you are a turned Lappell member. And then there was Marcus and his family. How did they all fit into this? How were they connected and why? But the most important element in all of this was James. Did the cause know who he was?

“James’ initiation...” I started to say.

“Is being stopped by one of our members,” Marcus finished for me. “Don’t worry. It’s being taken care of. He’ll be fine. He won’t become part of them.”

“How can you say that considering who he is? There’s no way they’ll just let him go.”

“What are you talking about?
‘Considering who he is.’
James is just a guy who got mixed up with the wrong crowd is all. I get that it’s because of you. But it doesn’t make this complicated Anais. We’re just stopping him from making a mistake. His parents will get here soon. And they’ll set him straight about his actions.”

“So you don’t know then, do you?”

“Know what?”

Marcus may have been part of the uprising against the Lappell, but even he wasn’t in a position to be given all the details about James. It was no wonder too. That kind of information would be under lock and key. It shouldn’t be known. And I should keep it to myself. But I couldn’t carry it alone any longer. Marcus needed to know the truth. As well as James. And I needed to say it out loud. It wasn’t real until I could say it. I needed to hear it for myself and my own understanding.

“You think they’ve told you everything about James? Didn’t you wonder why there was so much focus on him since he arrived? Why Byron couldn’t hurt him. Why they threw a limited edition Viper at him. Why they made him take a flashback for initiation. These aren’t normal Lappell rituals Marcus. These are rules for elite initiation. There was something different about him from the beginning.”

Marcus looked deep in thought, trying to come up with his own answers, but when nothing seemed to gel he turned to me. “So what are you saying? You think he’s not just some average Joe we are trying to keep out of the Lappell?”

“No — I don’t. And I don’t think...I
know
he’s a lot more. James Riley isn’t even his real name.”

Marcus stopped the car suddenly. He looked surprised I would say such a thing. He lifted his sunglasses from his eyes so he could look at me seriously. “So who do you think James is exactly Anais?”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my legacy coin. I had kept it on me since I had seen the same one in James’s room. I was going to use it to prove to him that there was something he didn’t know about himself. I needed something to go along with my theory that his life was a huge lie. That the coin he had was given to him on purpose. It represented his fate. His future. They’d been watching and waiting for James to appear in society. I mean, how could someone with his talent stay so hidden? It was just a matter of time until the Lappell tracked him down.

“Why are you showing me your legacy coin?”

Marcus knew about the coins. He must have also been taught about the rituals and more importantly, the history of the Lappell. Would make sense given the group is made up of primarily of Lappell members working against them from the inside. You need to know your enemy in order to form the best plan of attack.

“Because Marcus...James has one too. He showed it to me. It’s in his workroom. He calls it his lucky coin if you can believe it. He has no idea what it is. What it means. Why he was given it. I was going to show him mine so I could help reveal to him the truth about his past.”

Marcus looked at the coin and then back to me, trying to connect dots in his head but coming up with nothing. Of course he would come up with no answers. Unless you knew what I did, you wouldn’t assume such a crazy notion. There would be no reason to suspect anything about James. There was nothing on paper that connected him to the Lappell.

Marcus shook his head. Confusion and worry blatantly evident in his expression. Even the look of shock that such a discovery had slipped right by him under his nose.

“Wait...No...No...You’re wrong. You must be mistaken. I would have been told if James was a...” Marcus trailed off. His mind thinking and deciphering his orders. I imagined certain things were probably falling into place now for him too. “Fuck,” he breathed. “Fuck!” He shook his head, knowing he was in the dark about so much more than just helping to stop his initiation. “Fucking hell, those liars!”

“There’s more Marcus. At initiation the other night, while he was unconscious, he told a horrifying story about something that happened to him when he was a child. Something terrible that he did against the Lappell. And during the story, he screamed out two very important names that are only known in our circles. He revealed the real names of his parents.”

“Real names?” This was as much as a surprise to Marcus as it was to me.

“Yes, and if the legend’s true, if the stories I’ve been told are right...then...”

“Then what? Who is he Anais? Who is my best friend?” Marcus raised his voice. Needing. Wanting the truth too.

“Then he’s the son of Joshua Hollows.”

There was no sound between the two of us as we sat in the car in stunned silence. I think we were even both holding our breath at the discovery. Marcus must have known the story too. It was the reason the cause began in the first place. The uprising against the Lappell. He was also probably realizing that his parents had been lying to him his whole life about certain things and about who and what they knew.

I squeezed the coin tight in my hand as I thought about my James. Real name — James Joshua Hollows. He was so different to anyone I had ever met before. He was smart, honorable and kind. He had come to my rescue when no one else would. He felt guilt when he was violent, and would sacrifice his own safety to keep the peace. He loved, so hard and so forcefully, and was willing to give up his normal life for the sake of me. He was the best kind of person. Funny. Passionate. And I fell hard for him. From the moment our eyes met, I could feel he was different. I wanted him to love me since that night he saved me. I selfishly went to him after I broke my betrothal, knowing I was putting him in harm’s way. James deserved happiness and the truth about his past, his parents and what he had done. And I had brought him into a world that not only was about to take his freedom, but was now uncovering a life he should have never known about. It was all my fault. I should have stayed away. I should have let him go. But I wasn’t strong enough to deny myself the one thing on earth that could make me happy. Give me hope. His love. And as much as it was the wrong decision, I just couldn’t let it go. But I may not have a choice now. So many things were about to destroy James from the inside. The truth about his flashback. What he did. His parents. His legacy. Who his real father is.

That light I loved so dearly, was about to be put out. I could only hope I could be enough light for him to help him through this. I had to keep our love growing inside my heart.

{25}

Present

JAMES

The sound of the gun was still echoing in my ears. I couldn’t take it anymore. I fired my own gun into the air to get them to back off from me and the blond woman. The moment it went off in my hands, it happened. Flashes...memories...blood...screaming...a man’s body on the floor. Norah...Clint. My parents’ real names. How deep had I buried this memory? I dropped the gun in my hands to the ground. I couldn’t have it there. Not where it had been already...not when such an object had already caused me to take a life. The gates had opened. The gun was the trigger. The memory which was now vividly on play in my thoughts, made my hand violently shake.

That’s where the tremors came from. That night. My actions. My murderous fingers. My parents who were people I didn’t even know. How many times had they slipped and called each other their real names? The names ‘Norah’ and ‘Clint’ ticking in my head. One...two...five times...maybe more. I had heard them numerous times in my youth. Behind closed doors. Hushed whispers. The occasional argument they thought was out of earshot. And then the other bomb. Explosive. Momentous. Absolutely shattering. The name
Hollows.
I had heard it before. I had heard in those whispers...those arguments...those tears when my mother thought she was crying alone and saying his name. I remembered everything now. What I did that night for my mother and step-dad. The running from country to country. The details given to me about my real Dad who they called Joshua Riley. Just enough information for me to be satisfied but not too much that I would ask more questions.