Marked: Chapter 32

Fading evening sun rays beat down on us as we stand at edge of Mom’s lawn. Zack’s strong hand holds mine as a tremor runs through my body.

“We don’t have to do this,” he reminds me.

“It’s all right.” I take in a breath. “This has to be finished.” I squeeze his hand. “So our future can begin.”

The front door swings open and Mom hurries onto the porch.

“Harley! Honey!” She smiles wide, her arms spread out in welcome. “I was afraid you wouldn’t make it.”

I let go of Zack’s hand and climb up the steps into Mom’s waiting arms. She wraps herself around me, hugging me tightly and swaying just a bit.

“I’m so glad you came. I’ve been worried about you,” she says, patting my back before pulling away. “Come in. I have dinner all ready.”

I follow her inside, holding the door for Zack until he grabs it from me.

Lasagna.

I inhale the scent of my childhood.

Mom made lasagna on our birthday every year. It was the one meal we both loved.

“Come in the kitchen, I just need to mix the salad.” She leads us through the house to the kitchen in the back.

The lasagna sits on the stove, steam still rising from the dish. I inhale, letting the warmth of my childhood rush over me.

When I open my eyes, Mom’s staring at me.

“Honey?” She picks up my hand and squeezes. “It’s a shit day, I know.”

A tear slides down my cheek before I can stop it.

“I’m sorry.” I wipe it away.

“No, don’t apologize.” She hugs me again. “Sit, I’ll get some wine.” She smiles and hurries over to the bottle sitting on the counter.

“I’ll open it.” Zack takes the bottle opener from her. “Why don’t you two sit and I’ll pour.”

“Oh. Sure. Thanks.” She steps away from the counter and watches me warily while she sits at the round table.

The same table where Quinn and I ate breakfast every morning with my father before he went to work.

The same table where we ate dinner with my mother, trying not to stare at the empty seat my father left after he died

The same table where my mother and I ate silently for years, pretending there weren’t two empty chairs after Quinn died.

“Did you visit the cemetery today?” Mom asks after several moments tick by.

“No,” I breathe. “Did you?”

“I did.” She nods. “I put out a new basket of flowers for your sister, and left a cigar for your dad.” A whisper of a smile touches her lips. “I was going to ask you to come with me, but you’ve been so hard to get in touch with lately.” She eyes Zack.

Zack pops the cork out of the bottle of white wine and pours two glasses.

“Mom.” I grab her hands in mine. When did they get so thin? She’s always been lean, but all I can feel now is her bones.

“What is it?” she asks when I stay silent. “Oh, thank you, Zack.” She leans back, letting Zack place the wine on the table between us.

“My memory is back,” I say quietly. “All of it.”

Her hands tense.

“I know what…what you meant when you said my name that day.”

Her cheeks blanche.

“Oh. Harley.” She sinks back in her chair, slowly letting go of my hands. “I…was afraid that’s what was happening.”

“Is that why you called Agent Laurens? You figured if I remembered one thing, everything was coming back, and she needed to be warned?” I do my best to temper my tone, but the accusation stands on its own.

“No. I…I’m not sure what you want me to say, Harley.” She drops her hands into her lap. “Today is–”

“Your fault.” I raise my chin. “Dad’s fault, too. But you…you gave me and Quinn to those men.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “That’s not how it happened,” she says with force. Her eyes harden. “I tried. I did. To save you both.”

“You were barely in the room with us, and when you were, you were fine. They never touched you. Only me and Quinn!” I slam my hand on the table. The lies. So many over the years. I’ve had my full of them. There’s no more room in my soul to hold them.

“They kept me in the office. Yes.” She nods, side-eyeing Zack. “Is he doing this? Is he putting these horrible ideas in your head?”

Zack leans against the counter, one foot casually hooked over the other, his arms folded over his chest. He’s just listening. All the room in here is for me. He’s not crowding any of the space.

“No. I remember. I remember screaming for you. I remember Quinn crying for you.” Tears choke me.

“You think those sounds don’t haunt me every day?” Her voice cracks. “They didn’t have me in the same room with you because they had me tied up in the office. They had cameras on you, and they forced me to watch—’ A sob breaks through. “They made me watch the terrible things they did and if I refused, they would hurt both of you.”

I shake my head, unsure where to put this information.

“They broke Quinn’s nose,” she blurts. “They were hurting you, and I refused to watch. I shut my eyes and I starting humming really loud so I couldn’t hear you crying. And they went out and punched her so hard in the face, blood squirted out of her nose.” A sob breaks from her chest. It’s filled with agony, pure agony.

She’s not faking this.

“Your husband took out a loan with Jimmy Blackwood.” Zack cuts in when I’m too shaken to speak.

“Yes.” Mom nods. “He did. The medical bills were killing us. They were going to take the house, our car. There was no hope, he knew that. So, he took the money.”

My heart clenches.

“I agreed to be the collateral, knowing I could never make the payments. I figured you and your sister would go live with Aunt Phyllis in California when it was done. You’d be together.” She sniffs. “I was so scared, so unsure of what to do. And I loved him so much. The idea of living without him…of not being able to take care of you two….” She shakes her head, like she can get rid of it all. “You would have been together.”

“Aunt Phyllis? She died, Mom.” I find the flaw in her lie.

She frowns. “Yes, she did. I found out she died the day before they came for me. I begged them to let me find another way.”

The pain balloons in my chest. “You did. Us.”

“No!” She hits the table. “Do you think those people are reasonable? When I begged for another way, they said sure…they barged into the house, they kidnapped all three of us. I had no say, no control after that.”

I close my eyes, letting the horrible images from years ago bombard me.

Mom screaming as three men pushed past her into the living room where Quinn and I were watching music videos.

“They didn’t hurt you though, only us.”

“Just because I didn’t tell you about what they did, doesn’t mean they didn’t do it,” she says coldly.

Zack stands behind me, squeezing my shoulders.

“You knew Agent Laurens was dirty.” I move on. The memories are too strong, too vivid now.

“I did. She met us at the hospital, she did a good job of pretending to care. But when we were home, she came over and explained how things needed to go to keep you safe.”

“Me?”

“In some ways, Harley, I’ve never left that room. When you lost the memories, it was a gift. If you had spoken up, if I had told the truth, they would have gotten to you.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” I shout. “You told them to kill me!”

She grabs my hands, holds tight. “No! Don’t you remember? I told them I choose me. I chose me!”

“Quinn, honey, you have to stay awake, baby. Please,” Mom begged Quinn to wake up. But she was too deep in sleep to hear her. I scooted across the cement as much as my chains would allow and tried to tap her arm. But nothing.

“She’s tired, Mom. I think they hurt her pretty bad last time.” I linked my fingers with hers. She’d been so bruised when they brought her back and dumped her next to me. Her face was swollen and purple on one side.

Mom sniffled.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” She folded herself into herself, resting her head on the knees.

The door opened and a second later, the overhead lights flickered to life. I squinted; the light was too bright. It hurt.

“Hello, ladies.” A voice I hadn’t heard before greeted us. He sounded so happy, like a game was about to start.

“Please. No more,” Mom whimpered. “Don’t touch them.”

“Don’t worry, Mommy dearest. I won’t.” Jimmy pulled a chair in front of Quinn and me. Sitting backwards on it, he rested his chin on the chair back. “Looks like they’ve been all used up already anyway.” He frowned at Quinn. “She still breathing?”

“I am.” Quinn shoved her hands against the cement and pushed herself back up, turning her battered face to him. Relief washed over me. She hadn’t spoken since they tossed her back in her spot hours ago.

“Good.” He pulled a gun from the back of his jeans. “Unfortunately, your time is up. We need the room for fresh product.”

“Product?” I looked behind him. Arthur stood at the doorway, a sinister grin on his lips.

“Yeah. We were going to wait until the price went up a little more, but you know, I really fucking need this today.” He pointed the gun at Quinn. I tried to jump in front of her, but the chains on my ankle kept me just out of reach.

Jimmy laughed.

“Fuck, you are a stupid bitch, aren’t you? How long you been here, and you still don’t know you can’t get to each other?”

“Leave them alone. Just take me,” Mom whimpered. “Just take me!” she yelled.

Jimmy’s eyebrows lifted.

“What would the fun be in that?” He laughed again. “But look. I’ve got somewhere I need to be, so let’s just get right to it.” He stood up, pushed away the rolling chair and stood between Quinn and me. “Mom, it’s time.”

“For what?” She jumped to her feet. “What are you doing?”

“Which one?” He moved the gun from Quinn to me then back again. “Which one do you want to keep?”

“No!” She tugged on the chains. “Me. Take me. I choose me!” She waved her arms in the air. “Take me!”

“Sorry.” He shrugged. “That’s not an option. But if you keep fucking with me, I can have my guys come out here and have another go at them.”

Mom sank to her knees, sobs wracking her back.

“No. Please. No more.”

“That’s what I’m saying. This can end now.” He motioned toward us. “Which one is it?”

Mom lifted her head, stared at us. Tears dripped down her cheeks. She’d aged so much in the time we’d been locked away.

“Forgive me.” She whispered; her eyes locked on me. “Harley.”

“Good choice.” He moved closer.

My chest tightened.

Too many thoughts jammed into my brain at one time. Feelings were out of control.

She said my name.

She chose me.

He pointed the gun at me.

The hammer cocked.

I shut my eyes, crying into my hands.

“Mom!” Quinn yelled.

I sobbed.

“No!” Mom’s tortured scream escaped.

BANG

“No! Oh god!” Mom screamed again.

A soft thud beside me.

Slowly, I opened my eyes. Quinn laid on the cement next to me, her blood pooling on the cement, encroaching on me.

Jimmy laughed.

He winked at Mom, who was desperately trying to get to Quinn.

“Huh. That was fun. Good luck with that.”