Pushing to my feet, I reach for the light switch, but then stop myself. My gut instinct is telling me not to turn on the light and to get the fuck out of this house. This time I’m going to listen.

Crouching down, I yank the bracelet from her wrist and chuck it aside, along with the package I picked up tonight. Then I slide my hands under her, carefully scoop her into my arms, and carry her out the door and downstairs to my apartment.

Once I reach my bedroom, I kneel down beside my bed and lay her down on the mattress. Long locks of her hair are sprawled across my pillow and her arm is resting over her stomach. Her skin still looks pale, her lips are red, and every once in a while her eyelashes flutter.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and watch her chest rise and fall with her breaths, growing more and angrier over what’s happening. I’ve had a really shitty life. My parents were assholes. My foster parents were assholes. My one and only girlfriend was an asshole. But it feels like Emery has had it way worse. Tortured and abused, those are the two words that come to mind when I think of her. The dying rose I described can barely thrive and the petals will all be gone soon. No one will ever be able to see them anymore. I won’t be able to see them anymore.

Even though she’s Doc’s daughter, she’s just as much a victim as everyone else Donny Elderman and his men have annihilated. I can’t believe that, only hours ago, I was actually considering using her to get to the warehouse, using this already broken girl.

I brush my finger across her cheek, and her face instinctively nuzzles against my touch and she murmurs my name. Something breaks inside me, something I’ve been fighting to keep together since the first time I met her. I make a vow right then and there to make sure Emery stays out of this mess. That no matter what it takes, I’ll get her out of this life.

Pushing to my feet, I dig my “personal” phone out of my pocket. The lack of hesitation I feel when I send the text makes me feel pretty content with my choice, regardless of the consequences.

Me: I’m going to tell Emery everything, and then I’m going to leave and take her with me.

Chapter 16

Lost Days… Again

Emery

Clank. Clank. Clank.

“You made me do this,” my father says, his voice drifting up the stairway to the kitchen. Clank. Clank. Clank. “I do this because of you.”

“What’s Father doing down there?” I ask my mother, staring at the closed door of the basement. My arms are strapped to the kitchen chair, and my ankles are bound to the legs. Ever since I snuck out of the house, I’ve been tied up except for when I go to school.

Clank. Clank. Clank.

“How dare you ask such questions.” My mother takes a seat across from me and grasps the pendant dangling around her neck. “You know better than to question anything your father does.”

Clank. Clank. Clank.

“I’m sorry things turned out this way, son,” my father mutters. “But in the end, I think it’s for the best. Now the darkness no longer stains your soul.”

Clank. Clank. Clank.

My mother winces then twists the cap on the pendant. Removing it, she puts it up to her nose and sucks up the white powder. Her nostrils are ringed with red and a glimmer of red flashes from the silver metal of the pendant.

“What’s that?” I ask, nodding my head at the pendant. “That light.”

“That is for your father to keep track of me,” she replies, her words rushed together as she sniffs a few times

“You’re not supposed to be doing that.” I don’t know why I say it. Perhaps it’s the clanking. Perhaps it’s because deep down I know what’s happening in the basement. Or maybe it’s just because I’m crazy.

Her pupils dilate as she leans across the table and strikes me hard. “How dare you speak to me like that.” She pushes the chair back from the table, walks around to me, and bends down. With a flick of her fingers, she unties the binds around my ankles then rises to her feet and frees my wrists.

“Thank you,” I tell her, stunned.

She smirks. “Now maybe your father will do to you what he’s done to my son, then I’ll no longer have to worry anymore.” With that, she leaves the room.

Clank. Clank. Clank.

I know I should go up to my room, stay away from the basement, but my legs lift me from the seat and take me in the direction of the clanking. I turn the doorknob and pad down the concrete stairs. The surface is cold against my bare feet and the air is arctic, like midnight during wintertime while standing in a freezer.

Clank. Clank. Clank.

I reach the bottom of the stairway and see my father standing there with a shovel in his hand. The concrete of the floor has been torn up in one area, exposing the dirt beneath it. Beside the hole is my brother, sprawled across the ground. His arms are lifeless, his legs are bent in an awkward way, and his skin is a pale blue.

Clank. Clank. Clank.

“Emery, you’re not supposed to be down here,” my father says calmly as he continues to dig.

“I’m sorry.” I step back to head upstairs, unable to remove my gaze from Ellis.

“You might as well help, now that you’re down here.” My father stabs the shovel into the dirt.

“I…” I trail off as Ellis turns his head toward me.

His eyes are wide and his lips parted. Help me, he mouths.

When I blink, his head is turned the other way, and he’s no longer moving. I’m not sure if what I saw was real, but I want to help him.