“Not alone, Hitch,” Brady said, grabbing the rifle and chambering a round. “We’re going in together.”
I nodded. He was right. We had to face whatever awaited us, together. "Let's go, then," I said, stepping out into the frigid night air.
We moved stealthily, our boots crunching softly on the snow as we crept towards the mill. The air crackled with low-lying tension, a sense of impending violence. We were entering Foley's domain, a place where the rules didn't apply and survival was a gamble.
seventeen
a killer nightmare
Fallon
My head throbbed, a relentless drumbeat against my skull. My mouth was a desert, the metallic tang on my tongue turning my stomach. As my eyelids fluttered open, recognition slammed into me. This was the old mill, and this wasn’t the first time Foley had brought me here. It was his sanctuary for unspeakable acts, a place where bloodstains and worse wouldn't defile the pristine walls of his mansion.
A childhood memory ripped through me—chained at the ankle, nothing but a threadbare bed for company, and that boy, the one with eyes like crystal, huddled in the shadows of a closet. Foley, the monster, wrapping the chain around my neck, flinging me onto the bed. I shuddered as the memory unspooled, and something new, something I’d missed before, emerged from thedarkness. The boy had been there, a silent witness to Foley’s violation. I hadn’t realized he was watching. But he was.
“Warrin, you can come out now,” Foley's voice, as he buckled his belt, the chain around my neck falling loose, freeing me to breathe.
I looked, and there he was, stepping out of the closet, face puffy and bruised. He had a look that I knew all too well. Despite being older than me, he looked like a terrified child. It was heartbreaking, even in this nightmare.
I closed my eyes, trying to claw my way back into that fractured memory, searching for something, anything, I’d overlooked.
“See what happens to those who cross me?” Foley said to the boy, his arm snaking around his shoulders, drawing him close.
The resemblance hit me then, a brutal punch to the gut. He was Foley’s son. No question. But was there something more, a hidden layer I was missing? I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking out the wind whistling through the mill's decaying walls, determined to uncover the secrets buried within.
“Have you seen your mother today, Warrin?” Foley asked. The boy shook his head in a gesture of defeat.
“I couldn’t find her,” he whispered, his gaze meeting mine, and I saw a flicker of pity in them.
I crawled to the headboard, pulling my knees to my chest, fighting the tide of tears threatening to spill. I remembered the bittersweet relief of getting Brady away from Foley’s clutches, the nauseating price I’d paid for my brother’s freedom. Yet, I'd do it all again, without hesitation.
“That’s because she defied me,” Foley sneered, “She’s in the next room if you want to see her. I'll be in there in a second.” He smirked at me, pushing the boy from the room, and my blood turned to ice as he advanced.
"Let me guess, did his mother trade her life to you too?" I spat, knowing the words would bring pain.
His fist exploded into my face, blood erupting from my nose. He grabbed my hair, yanking my head back, forcing me to meet his gaze, his voice a venomous whisper.
"You're about to learn what happens to those who defy me, Fallon. Pay attention." He grinned again, leaving the door ajar, the promise of horror hanging in the air.
I pressed my ear to the thin wall, and a woman's desperate pleas shattered my control. I choked back sobs, my body trembling, her repeated no’s breaking my heart until a revelation that I would never be able to come to terms with:
"Take this, son," Foley said. I couldn't see what was happening.
"Why do I need a gun?" the boy asked, terror lacing his voice.
The woman’s scream ripped through the air, followed by Foley’s furious tirade, his voice raw with contempt. She was worthless, just another mouth to feed, she belonged to him. It was time for him to collect.
"Shoot her, Warrin," Foley commanded, a sadistic glee in his tone.
Then, a struggle, a gunshot, and the woman's screams were silenced. Foley returned, dragging the boy, who was now weeping, a new cut marring his lip, a gun clutched in his hand.
“If you keep fucking defying me, Fallon, don’t think my boy here won’t put a bullet through your head. He just killed his own mother. What makes you think he wouldn’t kill a nobody like you?”
Panic choked my throat, snapping me back to reality. I was on the same bed, the same chains. Flashbacks slammed into me, one after another. I refused to be dragged back, forcing them back into the shadows. But I held on to the fragments, the things I hadn’t remembered.
I hadn’t remembered the boy who’d tried to protect me was Foley's son. I hadn't remembered his name. I hadn’t remembered him being forced to kill his mother. I hadn’t remembered so much, and the question of why clawed at me. Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.
His eyes…I recognized them. They were War’s eyes, which meant the boy from my past—Foley’s secret son—was the same man who’d walked into my life and stolen my heart. Did he remember what I didn’t? Did he know he was Foley's son?
