Page 56 of Torment

The warning tone from earlier grew louder, rising in pitch as it migrated to the front of my mind. I felt a sudden shock, like a stun gun firing on my skin. My heart raced, and beads of sweat broke out on my hairline.

I reached toward Jolie and tilted her chin up so she had to look at me. “Did you say anything else to your father when you were high on those pills that day? Something you might feel bad about? Like the details of our plan?”

She frowned and shook her head. “No. I don’t recall the exact wording of what I said, but I remember enough. All I said was the stuff I already told you.”

“So… the pregnancy issue. Is that the only reason you think you’re here?” I asked quietly.

She nodded. “I thought you found out what I did. I thought you were angry at me and considered me to be some sort of killer. I mean, that’s what you said when I got here. You said…” She began to cry again, tears streaming thickly down her face. “You said I tried to get rid of you and that I killed your family, and I suppose in a way, I did. I thought it was a strange way to word things, but you were angry at me, so I understood. You were right.”

“No.”

“Yes. I got rid of something that was part of you. I didn’t keep the baby that could’ve been your future son or daughter,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I never even told you about it. That was wrong of me, and I know it. I’ve always regretted not trying harder. So when you took me, I thought I probably deserved to be punished in some way for keeping it from you all these years. I mean, I didn’t think I deserved to die, but…” She sniffed. “I figured you felt differently.”

My stomach was a hard knot in the pit of my gut as darkness circled my mind, making my heart sink further and further into the abyss. I stood up.

“Jolie, I don’t speak in fucking euphemisms,” I growled. “When I said you tried to get rid of me, I meant it. When I said you killed my family, I fucking meant that too.”

Her eyes went wide. “What do you mean?”

I brushed my fingertips over my face. “Tell me: how do you think I got these scars?”

Jolie’s forehead wrinkled with confusion at the change of subject. “I read about it on the internet. You were in some sort of house fire, weren’t you?”

I gritted my teeth. I’d heard all the dumb rumors about my scars before, including the one about the so–called house fire. I’d even heard talk of how I allegedly set it myself in order to take over the family company. Vicious, nasty bullshit.

“You really don’t know what happened?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I… I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

I could tell she was being genuine. She honestly didn’t know what happened all those years ago.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Crushing guilt flooded me, grinding endlessly at my stomach with its sharp black teeth. For all these years, my anger had been aimed at the wrong person. I was so blinded by hatred that it didn’t even occur to me that I could be wrong, and when I spoke those words to Jolie all those weeks ago, accusing her of killing my family, it never occurred to me that it might mean something else to her entirely. Something figurative, rather than literal.

“Mason?” Jolie said in a tentative tone, cocking her head to the side. I looked at the clock on the opposite wall and realized I’d been sitting in guilt-ridden silence for over five minutes.

I rubbed my temples, trying to stave off the vicious headache I felt looming over me. “A few hours after I told the authorities what was happening at New Eden, I received a gift-wrapped box and a card,” I said. “I was sitting in my car at the time. I opened the card first, and I heard a recording of you saying ‘I’m sorry, Father, but there’s something I need to tell you. Something big. It’s about Mason Ashwood’. At first I was worried about you. I thought they’d hurt you for telling them the truth. I even thought the fucking box might have your head in it.”

Jolie stared at me with wide eyes as I paused and ran a hand through my hair. “What was in it?” she asked.

“A bomb, rigged to detonate almost immediately after the box was opened. My car exploded. I was basically set on fire before I was thrown out onto the road.”

Jolie’s hand flew to her mouth. “What?”

I licked my dry lips. “Forty percent of my body was burned. I had serious head injuries as well. I was in an induced coma in the hospital for two weeks before I woke up. When I did, I had no memories from the last several months. I didn’t know where I was or what happened. At all. Some FBI agents eventually came to see me. They told me that I’d infiltrated a cult, and that the leaders must’ve attacked me after figuring out what I was up to. Then they told me what happened to my family.” I hesitated for a second. “Do you remember my parents?”

“Yes.” Jolie nodded. “They were nice.”

“Yeah. So were my siblings. But your father and his minions… they hired someone to go after them. They were tied to crosses and set on fire. None of them survived.”

Jolie’s face turned a sickly shade of pale. She lurched to the side and vomited off the edge of the bed. “No…” she whispered, choking down several short, shallow breaths. “Oh, no…”

“I thought it was my fault. If I didn’t go to New Eden and try to expose the cult, my parents and siblings would still be alive. I told the FBI to keep my name off everything, because I wasn’t a fucking hero. I didn’t want credit for anything. Not when my whole family was dead.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jolie murmured, wiping her chin as she looked back up at me.

“I remember getting some messages from you while I was in the hospital. But I had no idea who you were, and I never asked. I was too fucked up.”

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