It’s not just looks wise — losing so much weight means losing the strength I’ve been building with Arlo and Hudson.
“What are you people going to do with me?” I ask.
I’ve been repeating the same question over and over again. Each time, Zoe would either taunt me with vague responses, a glintin her eyes indicating that something sinister lurked beneath the surface, or she’d deflect and ignore the question entirely. Somehow, I need to get that answer out of her today.
“Whatever Simmons wants.’’
“And what does he want?”
Zoe pauses; for the first time I can see uncertainty flash behind her eyes. She’s silent for a moment, debating how much to reveal. Then, she pulls out a chair, sits across from me, and just… stares. Her eyes are dull, dead almost, and she doesn’t speak for a while. Her eyes trail all over my body, a couple of times, before they settle on my face.
“I don’t know what he sees in you,” she admits, causing me to furrow my brows. “You’re pretty, sure, but not the prettiest girl alive. You’re not special in any way, shape, or form. So you’re curious what he wants to do with you, huh?”
I nod.
“Why the fuck not,’’ she breathes out. “Get ready for a quick history lesson, then.’’
“Fine.’’
“Back when they were a part of their little club, your biological father had done some questionable things.” She gives me a pointed look. “You were an affair baby, and because of that, he was kicked out of it. Then, years ago, he tried to weasel his way back into the group because he got greedy. Paul agreed under the condition you were dealt with, in this sense, killed. Alexander gave him the address where you lived, and well… we all know what happened to you later on.’’
My stomach churns as I process the information. My heart is beating against my ribcage, my palms growing sweaty. I clutch the fork in my hand, knuckles turning white, and for a couple of minutes, I can’t speak. There are no words to describe how I’m feeling.
For years I blamed myself. For years I thought it was myfault, that I must’ve done something wrong for my mother to treat me the way she did, to all but sell me to be raped, abused, and hit by Paul. But all this time it was just to fuck with Alexander. They ruined my life, took away my childhood, and took away a part of my soul that I’ll never regain, and for what?
“Simmons abused me just to mess with my father?”
No emotions are visible on Zoe’s face. Briefly, she nods. “From what I’ve heard, there are even videos of him fucking you. Apparently, it was sent to Alexander to see if he’ll crumble, but he just… never cared.’’
A dark smirk tugs on her lips, and that’s when I realize that she’s just as twisted and as sick as the man she married and the people she’s covering and working for. Not a single ounce of regret, not a single ounce of sympathy from her.
That one sentence is enough to cause rage to burst inside me. Without thinking about it or taking a moment to plan it thoroughly, I rise from the chair. I’m on top of Zoe before she can react. The fork is tightly in my hand, and before she can react, I plunge the object into her left eye.
Zoe’s piercing screams fill the room, and blood splashes over my face, getting into my eye. Yet, I can’t find it in me to care. My body is shaking from the anger, the pain, the memories of what I’ve endured.
“He wasn’t fucking me,’’ I scream, my free hand wrapping around her throat as she desperately tries to shove me off. “He was raping me, you cunt! I was a fucking child! He took away everything from me, and you’re smiling about it?! I promise you, even your ugly fucking husband won’t be able to save you once I decide it’s your turn to die.’’
My hand is trembling, and I pull out the fork from her eye, pulling it with the fork. A disturbing, squealching sound comes when the eyeball pops off, and I wince in disgust. The screams stop when she passes out; whether it’s from the shock of seeing hereyeball on the fork or the pain, I don’t know, and I don’t care. But this is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for.
Slowly, I pull away from her, glancing around. The cameras are following my every movement, and I’m fucking stuck. With deep breaths, I try to shove the anger to the back of my head and focus on planning my escape.
I toss the fork away, the clinking sound reaching my ears when it hits the marble floors. Immediately, I start patting her body to find a phone. My heart skips a beat when I find it, pulling it out and trying to unlock it.
Using her finger, the device is successfully unlocked. My hands tremble as I start typing in the phone number and press the call button. My eyes snap shut, tears rolling down my cheeks, and the silence in the room is deafening.
The longer I wait, the less confident I am.
Until I hear Arlo pick up the phone.
“Hello.’’
A choked sob slips from me. That angelic voice of his makes this experience feel unreal, my ears ringing. I swallow thickly, trying to calm my nerves down. With a deep breath, I open my mouth, speaking quietly.
“Arlo,’’ I whisper.
“Blair,’’ his voice is filled with relief. “Where are you, butterfly?”
“I don’t know,’’ I stammer around with my words, shaking like a leaf. “I don’t know.’’
