Uncovering You 8: Redemption (10 page)

One is wearing an immaculate dark suit. The other is dressed in chinos and a checkered shirt. As the movement of my head draws their attention to me, one of them smiles. The other does not.

And then, as if I don’t exist, they turn their attention back to each other.

Hurt. A deep hurt engulfs me. I feel neglected. It pierces through the ocean I am drifting on and stabs my heart like the cruel words of a former lover.

Why are there two Jeremys? I don’t know. That is not what concerns me at the moment. Not at all. The fact that neither one of them rushed over, that neither of them came to me…is what hurts.

I start to cry.

My whole body trembles from emotion. But I cannot give sound to my sobs. I feel myself breaking, falling apart. I can’t feel my body. That terrifies me. My arms? My legs? They’re there, somehow beside me attached to me. But my knowledge of them is the same as the knowledge I might have of an inanimate object that I spy out of the corner of my eye. I see it. I know it’s there. I know it’s real.

But the influence I can exert over it from my position is nonexistent.

That furthers my despair. I feel myself sinking again. This time, instead of a warm embrace, I am falling deep underground. Into the cold, cold dirt. In the grave of a thousand victims. I keep falling, farther and deeper down, to a place where all joy is extinguished and all hope is gone. To a place where only those who are the most despicable types of souls might ever wander. To a place reserved for the most loathsome creatures of the earth.

I sink, farther and deeper down, lower and lower into the ground, and I lose all sense of self, of knowledge, of happiness, of pain. I cease to exist.

Chapter Nine

I wake with a gasp.

My nightgown is cold. It is drenched with sweat. Immediately, memories of the vile tube pumping drugs into my blood come to me. I move to rip it out—and discover it gone.

A sharp pain starts to build, just on the edge of my consciousness. Before I can make sense of it, it crashes into me, hitting me right in the gut.

Hunger. A ravenous sort of hunger…as if I haven’t eaten in months. I clutch at my stomach and double over. Next thing I know, I’m dry heaving, trying to spew the empty contents of my stomach all over the floor.

A long dribble of spittle runs down my chin.

Ugh
.

I shiver. I feel disgusting. My body is sticky with sweat.

Where am I?

I look around the unfamiliar room. It’s dark, but there’s a window with the drapes thrown open. I see stars in the night sky.

My bed is large but uncomfortable. The mattress feels hard as a rock. The pillows I woke up on were too big, too puffy. They made my neck ache.

With a gasp of alarm, my hands fly to my neck.

The collar
, I think, frantic.
Is the collar back
?

My skin is bare. That, at least, grants me some relief.

I look about the room again. It’s furnished with thick oak furniture. Expensive paintings hang on the walls. There is a bookshelf lined with volumes. Beside it is a door.

A door. A way out
.

Without knowing why, I slowly get up and start toward it. Nothing about this room is unpleasant. In fact, it feels like the homey type of dwelling one might find inside an ancient house situated on the New England coast.

Still, I want nothing more than to get out.

My legs shake as I put weight on them, but they hold me. I discover a pair of slippers by the bed. They are my size.

With that thought, memories of my time in the dark come rushing back.

I remember the discomfort. The fear. The complete and constant uncertainty. The apprehension of what tomorrow would bring.

I shudder and try to brush it off. But the memories cling to me like moss on a boulder
.
This room evokes all of those feelings. I’ll go insane if I find the door locked.

I hurry toward it and place both hands on the knob. This is it. The moment of truth. Fear makes me delay. Courage makes me press forward.

I twist. The door knob moves. The door comes open.

A great sigh escapes my lips. Then a draft hits the back of my neck and causes my nightgown to ripple.

Quickly, I step outside and close the door, shutting off the wind.

I find myself in a long, abandoned hallway. The same ancient, expensive furnishings line both sides. Light is provided by a strip of skylights along the ceiling—no doubt a modern addition.

I wonder just where the hell I am. I take a cautious step forward. The floorboards creak. My heart leaps to my throat.

I wait. One anxious minute passes. Then two. When the blood isn’t pounding quite so loudly in my ears, I venture forward.

I brush my fingers over a shoulder-high vanity as I pass it by. There is no dust. This place is being well maintained.

I wonder where Jeremy is.

Suddenly, all memories of my time at the strange medical facility flood my brain. I remember the nurse, and the doctor. The doctor? He looked just like Jeremy. I’d even say he
was
Jeremy. But then I recall seeing double. Not two of the same person. Two people who happened to look identical.

Does Jeremy have a twin?

Jesus Christ
!

I bring an unsteady hand to my head. None of this seems real anymore. It’s like living inside someone’s horrifying nightmare.

That’s the only explanation that would make sense. Even if I was under the influence…even if I was drugged again…seeing the two of them interacting, arguing, stands out clearly.

And then I ended up here,
I think.

Wherever “here” is.

I reach the end of the long hallway and enter a vast, open lobby. I’m on the top floor. There is a railing in front of me through which I can look down. A grand staircase curls around the inside of the building. It is impressive and wide.

I look down from the balcony. This is not a house. It is a castle. Owned by Jeremy, no doubt?

But doubt it I do. I cannot count on anything. Not anymore.

Out of the blue, I think of my father. He’d called Jeremy Dr. Telfair. That’s why the name seemed so familiar!

Jesus! How far does the deception run? How much of what I know about Jeremy is actually true? Could it all be lies?

Why was I injected with that
drug
? What was it? What was I being kept from?

Jeremy told me recently that I might be in danger. That he blocked Fey’s calls as a way of keeping me safe.

Could this be an indication of that danger?

I feel lost—more lost than I’ve ever been before. I was so sure of myself when I pushed Fey and Robin away.

That confidence is gone. In its place is the uncanny sensation that I have inadvertently placed myself in Stonehart’s darkest snare.

Stonehart’s! Not Jeremy’s. Waking up like this definitely conjures up associations with Stonehart.

But there is no collar. That is one good thing. Maybe things are not quite so bleak as they appear.

I descend the eerily quiet staircase to the first floor. The layout reminds me of Jeremy’s California home. It’s like one was modeled after the other. But with a modern twist.

I reach the great doors. They tower over me like a castle keep. Moonlight floods the tall windows, allowing me to see my surroundings. There are no lamps or candles.

Candles?

What an odd thought. But candles would seem very fitting in a place like this.

I take a deep breath and push the doors open.

Wilderness greets me. My thin nightgown is small protection against the grip of a cold winter blizzard. Snowflakes swirl around me like malevolent little faeries.

The castle—mansion, home, whatever—is situated at the top of a great hill. From the doorway, I can see the entire countryside. The land and the bare tree branches are blanketed in a thick, white snow. I don’t see sign of civilization anywhere.

Cold fear—colder even than the storm raging outside—grips me. I’m alone in some God-forsaken location. The doors are open and there is no collar. But I have no way of knowing how far I am from society.

Fighting the strong gale, I shove the doors closed. The howl of the wind is still audible. I wasn’t aware of it before. Now I can’t get it out of my mind.

It sings a song of isolation and loneliness.

Okay,
I tell myself, trying to control my thoughts.
Okay, Lilly, just think. You’ve always been able to rely on yourself. Remember?

Yes, when I wasn’t locked away in some fucking castle
! The voice of reason counters.

I feel despair building. I don’t know where I am or why I’m here. I don’t even know how I got here. I get shades of my initial venture into Jeremy’s world. Waking up in the dark. Waking up by that pillar.

Have we returned to that?

Out of nowhere, I hear footsteps. Not just footsteps,
running
footsteps. Pounding somewhere on the floor above me.

Before alarm can give way to fear, I hear my name being called.

“Lilly! Lilly, where are you? Lilly!”

My heart swells. It’s Jeremy. He’s looking for me. And he sounds absolutely distraught.

“Here!” I call. “I’m down here!”

A second later, he comes crashing into the balcony. Wildly, he looks down, searching for me.

I take a step forward. His eyes catch the movement and he focuses on me. It’s hard to tell, in the dark, but I think I see relief washing over his face.

“Lilly!” he exclaims. “Thank God. How’d you get out of bed?”

“I woke up, and rose,” I tell him, feeling all my fears and apprehensions about this place wash away. This man is Jeremy, not Stonehart. The certainty of that knowledge grants me all the comfort in the world.

“Smart ass,” he mutters. His voice carries through the chamber. “Do you know how worried I was when I found you missing?”

“Well, where’d you think I would go?” I ask, turning toward him.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I thought…I worried…. It doesn’t matter.”

He turns away from the railing and quickly comes to me. My legs seem to work on their own accord as I run to meet him halfway. He embraces me. I melt into him.

“Oh, Jeremy,” I say. All sorts of emotions are coming to life inside me, all of them center around him.

“Sh, sh,” he croons, running his hand through my hair. “It’s all right. You’re safe. I’m here. Don’t worry.”

I realize I’ve started to cry.

Dammit! That is not the reaction I want to have in front of him!

I push off his chest and peer up into his eyes. His magnificent, wonderful,
caring
eyes. There is not a shred of Stonehart in them. It is all Jeremy. All compassion, all sympathy, all warmth and kindness, and
love
. It is Jeremy, as the boy he once was, as the person he had to hide in order to become the man who could dominate the world.

“You don’t pretend around me. Do you?” I murmur. “You don’t hold back. You mean the things you say.” I blink through the wetness in my eyes. “You really do love me.”

“Yes,” he says. And he swoops down to kiss me.

Our lips lock together in soft yet urgent passion. I’ve been away from him for too long.
We’ve
been apart for too long. It feels like years have passed since he last kissed me like this.

The moonlight makes it even more magical.

He breaks away. And leans his forehead into mine.

“Yes,” he repeats. “I really do. I can’t control it, Lilly. For the first time in my life, I don’t want to. I don’t need to. I’m ready to lose myself in you…” His hand comes up and brushes my cheek, “…if you’ll only let me.”

“Yes,” I say softly. “Yes, Jeremy, I will. And I…” I take a deep, shuddery breath. “I think I love you, too.”

Jeremy’s eyes widen. It is the biggest look of surprise I have ever seen him give.

“You…what?” he whispers.

“I think I love you, Jeremy.” The words feel wonderful to say. They’re almost cathartic. In a sense, I am letting go of the final battle of doubt and uncertainty that holds Jeremy and me apart.

They are the six most important words I have ever said in my life.

He smiles. It’s a gentle, compassionate smile. His thumb comes up to touch the corner of my lips.

“I know you do,” he says. He looks at me with the smug satisfaction of someone who’s just won a bet. “I’m glad you’re finally able to admit it to yourself.”

I recoil.
That
is what he has to say to my declaration? The presumptive, arrogant asshole!

Suddenly, all those doubts and uncertainties come back. I am crushed under a mountain of old suspicions and fears. They tear at my defences, at my built-up fantasy world, like great waves ripping at a grounded ship.

I pull free from his grip. A chill comes up the back of my nightgown from a crack in the door. I wrap my arms around myself and turn away.

“Lilly?” he says.

“No!” I stab a finger at him. “Don’t you dare ‘Lilly’ me.” Anger surges through me at my own stupidity…and my naivety.

I told him too early. I told him too soon. I didn’t make him work hard enough to hear me say those words.

My anger has a lightning rod. I can direct it at
him
.

He takes a step toward me. A flicker of confusion runs across his face. “What?” he begins.

I stop him with my voice. “
Don’t
come any closer, Jeremy,” I warn.

He stops dead in his tracks. I see determination, firmness, coming over him. I watch him slipping away,
see
the vulnerability and sensitivity disappear, to be replaced by…

Indifference.

“You’re still sick,” he informs me.

I glare at him. “What?” I hiss. “What do you mean ‘I’m still sick,’ Jeremy?
You’re
sick, Jeremy! When someone opens up her heart to you, you don’t respond with a self-assured, pompous ‘I know’! You value it and take it kindly. You do not spit in the other person’s face!”

“Is that what you think I did?” he asks. His eyes are darkening. His voice is taking on its usual assertive and authoritative tone.