Page 111 of Hellebore

“You should’ve died in jail,” Lawrence states as I hear a chair dragged across the floor in front of me. I see his legs. The fucker sits down to enjoy the show. Let him. “I paid them, but those fucking twins were always with you.”

I chuckle weakly. “Why didn’t you do it yourself? You had plenty of opportunities after Mom died.” The words come out shaky. I grind my teeth as fresh pain flares through my stomach.

“After your mother died, it would have been too suspicious for my son to die too.” He chuckles. “Want to know what I did instead?” he asks, sounding proud.

I look up. My head feels heavy, vision blurring at the edges.

He smiles—a genuine smile I have never seen before. “I paid for everything you needed. I knew you were going to Seattle after the girl. I let you. Paid for college like a perfect father.” He leans forward, the smile still there, eyes glinting. “And while you were busy with her, I made a company in your name. I stole the coins in your name. Even if you hadn’t agreed to go to jail for me, you were already caught.” He leans back and laughs.

“So—” I breathe, voice ragged. “You planned it… all.”

He slaps his hands together. “I did! Perfectly, I might add. When you accepted in exchange for that fucking mansion, I hired a man to kill that fucker and make it look like a suicide. Sad letter and all. Blaming you for ending his life by stealing all of his savings.” His eyes lock on mine, and for the first time I actually see my father proud. Proud of ruining my life.

“Fuck…” I grunt as a shadow dances across the wall. My stomach turns violently. I twist my face to the side, gagging, but nothing comes up.

“Once you got to jail there was only one thing left I needed to try—” he says, voice turning dark.

“B-Briar—” I manage.

“Yes. It was petty of me, I know. But the thought of having her before you…” He shakes his head. “I was hoping she would cry about it to the point you would find out in jail, but she didn’t and the bitch moved to Canada. I could care less until I found out you were getting released.” He shakes his head. “And then you killed my man even after he told you to leave her alone.”

My mind spins. I lean my head down, my shoulder still bleeding. The burn has settled deep in my stomach and I taste blood in my mouth. I keep my eyes closed against the dancing shadows.

“She’s—mine.” I grunt. Words are becoming harder to push out.

“Yours? For what?” His voice rises. “When you got yourself to Hellebore I knew you would eventually find out what happened and the truth, so I took her to make you lose your ground. And it worked. You are here now while she is chained, crying for you, not realizing you will never come for her.”

Chained.

Waiting.

She’s alive.

“Mine—” I repeat. Fuck. My ears are ringing, a high-pitched whine that drowns out everything else. Sweat drips down my back, soaking into my shirt and making the chains feel even colder against my skin. My legs twitch uncontrollably, muscles jerking against the heavy manacles.

He laughs loud, almost maniacal. “No, my son. She’s mine. You will die knowing that. Mine to keep until her own body gives up.”

“No…” I mumble. The word feels thick on my tongue. “I get… her.”

“Your brain is dying, Drystan, but before it does I will let you know the poetic side of it.” He stands up and walks closer. His fingers dig into my chin, forcing my head up. I meet his eyes—pure evil staring back. “Briar is in your mother’s crypt, right next to her coffin. Chained. No lights. Nothing. And you want to know what she screamed every time I was there? Your name.” His grip tightens. “She screamed for you and then she realized you would never come for her.”

My mother’s crypt.

My Briar.

Fuck. My heart slams too fast against my ribs, a wild, frantic drum. I can barely feel my fingers anymore, numb and distant.

“Crypt.” I mumble, low and strained.

“What?” Lawrence leans closer, his clean suit brushing against my bloodied clothes.

“Thank…” I force out. A burning sensation creeps closer to my chest, heavy and suffocating. The room tilts.

“Speak out!” He yells.

“Thank you.” I let out.

He snarls. “For what? For ending your pathetic life?”