"Your information was right, Sydney." The
Miss Parker who made this report was a pale, subdued shadow of herself.
"He’s got her and he’s had her long enough to break her completely."
She sighed, an oddly forlorn sound coming from her.
"The evil just keeps growing, Syd." She
whispered sadly. "I don’t know what to do anymore?"
"We end it." Sydney answered with
uncharacteristic firmness. "And we start by contacting Jarod."
"I always thought you had a personal number for
him." She smiled tiredly. "I’m glad you waited until now to prove me
right."
The wouldn’t have spoken so openly if they had been
at the Centre, but Parker was at Sydney’s personal apartment in Blue Cove. In
the years that they’d known each other, this was the first time she’d ever been
there. It was a restful place, with lots of wood paneling, maroon upholstery,
and plants occupying nearly every available surface.
"You never really wanted to catch him."
Sydney informed her with one raised brow conveying his subdued amusement.
"So it would have been counterproductive to have told you."
"You’re as devious as they are." Parker
accused mildly. "Thank God you’re on the side of the angels."
Sydney didn’t answer, he just picked up his cell
phone and punched in a number that he’d had memorized for years. When the man
on the other end answered Sydney’s voice was calm and even, but Parker could
see the sadness lurking in his eyes.
"Hello, Jarod." He said calmly. "How
have you been?"
"Busy." Jarod answered briefly.
"What’s so important that you’d use the number I left you after all this
time?"
Curt looked up from the papers he was studying, eyes
sharp with interest. He guessed, from the carefully suppressed anticipation and
anxiety in Jarod’s voice that he was speaking to someone from the Centre.
"I think you know, Jarod." Sydney
responded gravely. "Miss Parker discovered that Lyle has Anne. He’s had
her for a while."
"I know" No matter how hard Jarod tried to
keep his voice even, it broke with emotion.
"Why didn’t you call me?" Sydney asked
gently, a trace of hurt in his voice. "Didn’t you know I would help?"
"I was hospitalized for quite a while,
Sydney." Jarod told him carefully. "I’ve only been up and about for a
short period of time. And I don’t want to put you in any danger if I can avoid
it."
"Are you saying you don’t want us to do
anything?" Sydney questioned.
"Not unless you’re sure it won’t get you or
Anne hurt. I don’t think you can promise that. Besides, he doesn’t just have
Anne, he has our daughter too. If I know Anne, she won’t even think of leaving
without Deirdre."
"Let me speak to him." Parker demanded,
her blue eyes troubled. Jarod overheard and sighed; suspecting that he wasn’t
going to like what she had to say.
"Go ahead and put her on." He told Sydney.
"Jarod," Her voice cracked, surprising
both her and Jarod. She cleared her throat nervously and started again. "I
don’t know how to say this, so I’ll just be blunt. Lyle’s done a number on
her."
"Did you imagine he wouldn’t?" Jarod
jibed, trying to mask his pain with sarcasm.
"No, but you don’t understand what I’m saying.
He hasn’t just brainwashed her, he’s---" Parker’s throat closed up
completely. She hadn’t even shared this with Sydney. Even though she knew she
wasn’t accountable for Lyle’s depravity, she found it frighteningly hard to
actually say the words out loud. As if simply being related to Lyle made her
responsible for his sins.
"Spit it out, Parker." Jarod heard himself
demand in a cold hard voice. He was shrinking inside, though, knowing this
would hurt. Parker wouldn’t have gone against a lifetime of indoctrination to
speak to him if it weren’t something big.
"He’s decided she’s going to bear him a
child." She spat the words out like a machine gun on automatic. They were
as vile to say as they had been to hear. "He’s, he’s been---"
"Don’t!" Jarod cut her off, agony in his
voice. "Don’t say it! I don’t want to hear this."
"I just wanted you to know what you’re up
against." She said with astonishing gentleness. "She’s very damaged
right now, I think. I don’t know what scheme you have up your sleeve this time,
but you should hurry. And, Jarod?"
She paused, waiting for the affirmative grunt that
was all he could manage at the moment.
"If I can help you don’t hesitate to ask. I
simply can’t be a party to this anymore. Whatever you need from me, you’ve got
it."
"Thanks, Parker." He managed in a gruff
voice, thick with unshed tears. "I knew you’d come around one day. I’ll
take you up on that offer once I get everything set up properly. Thank
you."
He disconnected the phone before she could say
anything else, and limped for the door before Curt could say a word. Curt,
knowing that Jarod had received bad news, let him go. Some things a man needed
time and space to deal with.
He paused before opening the door and, carefully avoiding
looking at Curt, said;
"Start it now----tonight. There’s no more
time."
Curt watched the door swing gently shut and picked
up the phone by his hand.
"It’s time." He said to the person who
picked up on the other end. "Initiate project Clean Sweep tonight."
He paused, listening to what was obviously a
complaint from the other end.
"Then make yourself ready." He answered
harshly. "It starts tonight. Time’s up."
He hung up the phone firmly, his eyes still fixed on
the door that Jarod had walked through. Some times you just had to act if you
were going to keep a shred of self-respect and this was one of them.
"Annie, girl? Is that you?" My eyes opened
in spite of myself at those familiar tones. The man standing uncertainly by the
door had more lines on his face, and his hair was now completely white, but I
recognized him right away.
My first response was a blinding joy; the one
following it immediately was crushing shame. We rose to the crouch that the
other preferred, but instead of greeting the man, we finger combed our hair to
hide our face. My alternate knew how to handle this situation; hide.
"Annie?" He squatted down in front of me,
but he carefully refrained from touching me. His voice was very gentle and
soft, the kind you used with a frightened child or animal. "Sweetie, it’s
me, Sam. Don’t you recognize me?"
’No! No! Go away!’ I thought despairingly. ’I don’t want you
to see me like this.’
"Oh, Anne." He breathed painfully, one
hand reaching out to stroke the hair back from our face.
She struck the hand away and began to rock, fingers
twining and lips moving in the rhyme she’d learned from Jarod. My heart was
breaking at the pain on Sam’s face, and I wanted to reassure him, but I had to
protect myself. I simply couldn’t bear for him to see me; not after everything
Lyle had done.
"As you can see, Anne is not only alive, but
very much in our possession." A familiar raspy voice declared from the
open door. "She’s relatively undamaged, and you can ensure that she
remains that way by cooperating with us."
"Damn you, you monsters!" Sam
ground out, rising to face Raines and Lyle. "What the hell have you done
to her?"
"What we’ve done to her is nothing compared to
what we will do to her if you don’t give us the answers we want."
Raines threatened coldly. "Where is your wife? What has she done with the
boys?"
"I don’t know!" Sam snapped, his back
rigid with barely contained rage.
"Fine. Lyle? This is your forte. What do you
suggest?"
We rocked a little faster, hunching in on ourselves
a little more. Sam didn’t miss our distress.
"I swear, I don’t know!" He protested,
moving to stand protectively in front of me. "Don’t do this, I really
don’t know where Sally is!"
"Then give us an idea where she might
hide." Raines demanded.
"You’ve already checked out all of our friends
and relatives. There isn’t anyplace else. It’s not like I had a hunting cabin
in Colorado or anything!"
"That’s too bad." Raines snarled in
frustration. "Because your precious Annie is going to pay the price for
your ignorance."
"Don’t do this." Sam pleaded, utter
sincerity radiating from him like heat from a fire. "Don’t hurt her for
nothing. Look at her; you’ve already stripped her of her very humanity, leave
her be.Please!" He added, that final plea sounding like it had been
torn from his throat by some outside force.
"I’m afraid we can’t do that." Lyle, as
always, managed to make it sound like it wasn’t his delight to torture someone.
"The Triumvirate is quite impatient to get their hands on the young heirs
to the Pretender throne. I have to show them that we’re taking this
seriously."
I watched them avidly from behind my veil of hair.
Sam caught my eye, and I could feel his pain. I’d tried to avoid that, I had
enough pain of my own to hold, but he’d intercepted my wary gaze anyway. I
could almost here him begging my forgiveness---didn’t he understand that it was
all my fault? That none of this would have happened if I’d died when lightning
hit the transformer outside my window nearly two years ago?
"Take him back to his cell. He can think about
our request tonight, and what his intransigence is costing Eve." Lyle
managed to sound like he was proposing a pleasant afternoon outing, rather than
the vile threats that were really spilling from his lips. It took both of the
Sweepers who’d accompanied Lyle and Raines to pull Sam off of Lyle.
"She’ll pay for that too, old man!" Lyle
hissed, wiping a thread of blood off of his lip.
I heard Raines chuckle as he followed the Sweepers
from the room. I heard Sam cursing as he was dragged forcibly away. I heard
Lyle shut the inner door, and I knew no more. This time I allowed myself to
fade into total oblivion, unable to face another session; another moment in
Lyle’s company.
He was gone when I regained awareness, and I just
lay there, gasping from the pain of his visit and taking stock of my injuries.
He’d really gone all out this time. My face was tender. One eye was swelling,
it hurt to move my jaw, and the lips were cracked and swollen. Both cheeks were
puffing up with angry red welts.
My arms and legs about as bruised as was usual after
a visit, but my wrists and ankles were chafed and raw. He’d used the manacles.
Worst of all, my torso was crisscrossed with thin, sharp welts. He’d used a
whip. I’d be pretty colorful the next day, I knew, but it wasn’t much worse
than what he’d done before. The worst pain was a persistent ache in my ribs,
that made me move with greater care than usual.
The truly unusual thing was that I couldn’t feel the
other. I had a gut feeling that she wasn’t gone, but this was the first time
since she’d resurfaced in my life that I didn’t feel her at least in the
background. I wondered what Lyle had done to drive even her into hiding as I
took us into the adjoining bathroom to clean up.
She wouldn't have bothered, but I had to wash the
feeling of his hands off of me. I felt dirtier and dirtier with each passing
day, and I had wondered for some time now how I would ever be able to look
Jarod in the eye again. It didn't matter that I had no choice, I felt like I
had somehow betrayed him. More and more I wondered just what would be left of
me when this was all over.
`If it ever is.' My little inner voice startled me with that.
I hadn't heard from her pretty much since Lyle had
captured us. I reflected that it was certainly getting crowded in my mind. I
might have been tempted to worry, but it seemed rather pointless at this
junction to even care. My life was already so screwed up that two or three
personalities weren’t worth the bother.
`You need to quit moping about Jarod feeling hurt
and start worrying about how vicious Lyle's been getting.' She prodded insistently. `He's
going to kill you one of these days.'
Well, he did seem to have a bad track record with
women, I admitted to myself as I dressed and prepared to care for Deirdre.
`But, he says he wants a child.' I argued with myself. `Dead
women do not have children.' I added firmly.
’What he wants and what he’s going to get are going
to be two entirely different things if you don’t do something.’ She argued. ’Look at
what he’s just done. You did everything you were supposed to, played your part
like a professional actress, and your reward was more bruises. Pretty soon now
he’s going to end up causing internal bleeding or something.’
’So?’ I questioned indifferently. ’Let him. I don’t
think I can take much more of this anyway.’
’What about Deirdre?’ She asked, hitting below
the belt as far as I was concerned.
But she was right. I could no more leave Deirdre
willingly than I could walk out of this room.
’Then tell him.’ She ordered me.’You know he’d back off if
you told him.’
’No!’ My entire being rebelled. ’We aren’t even sure
yet!’
’Yes we are. You just don’t want to believe it.’
’No. It isn’t true. It’s just stress. I---I can’t…’
Tears began to slip down my cheeks as I curled into
a fetal position in "my" corner of the bedroom. The other refused to
sleep in the bed and I was in agreement with her on that one. On the few nights
that Lyle came and went early we’d curl up to sleep in this corner. It almost
felt like a refuge, even though there was nothing about it that offered
protection. It was simply our own space; a space that Lyle hadn’t managed to
taint yet.
I don’t know how long I spent there, mourning while
trying not to even think. I may have even dozed off finally. Certainly the
sound of the outer door opening again shocked me clear through. Was it the
nurse with Deirdre? Sam again? Or, unpleasant thought, Lyle returning again?
Two midmorning visits in as many days would simply be too much.
Reluctantly, I uncurled from my little world and made
my way to the connecting door to see who it was. I didn’t even try to erase
the ravages of my tears; I knew that if it was Lyle he would be pleased by
them and if it wasn’t him, I didn’t care. Even with the other to bolster me,
I found it incredibly difficult to open the connecting door and face what
was on the other side.