Page 64 of Backstroke

“Insane? Maybe. But that doesn’t change that you’re under my control now. There’s nothing you can do about it.” He lets go, my body slackening as he drags a bright spotlight toward me. The searing light forces me to squint, the intensity needles deep into my skull.

“Why are you doing this?” I manage to ask, straining against the bindings.

“Well, your boyfriend decided to kick me off the team, and I told him he would regret it. It’s not my fault he didn’t take the threat seriously.” He shrugs, as if he’s just discussing the weather rather than some malignant scheme.

I take a shaky breath, desperately searching for a way out of this impending doom.Think, Fallon!“I won’t let you get away with this. Someone will come for me.”

“Let them try. By the time they find you, it will be too late. You’ll be broken, just like we planned.”

“We?” The question slips from my lips just as another dark figure enters the room. My heart races, every instinct burning like a fire alarm. I can’t see their face, but the hairs on the back of my neck prickle with unease. Emerson smirks, a delighted gleam in his eyes as he watches me process the reality - I’m not alone in this nightmare.

“Yes. I ran into someone that wanted revenge as much as me. He’s been watching you, Fallon and he set all this up.” Emerson gestures to the room we’re in. My stomach sinks, knowing whatever’s coming is going to be bad.

The new figure steps closer, and dread settles like a stone in my stomach. A shadowy presence of fear, their aura electric and menacing. I can’t tell who it is, but Emerson’s excitement crawls over my skin, making me feel like a pawn in this sick and twisted game.

“Meet my associate. We have a few plans for you,” he chuckles darkly, his twisted delight palpable as he revels in my fear. I remain frozen in the dim chamber, my eyes wide as the figure steps into the flickering light. Shadows dance chaotically across his angular face, a chilling play of darkness that claws at my insides. With every inch he draws nearer, recognition throbs through my chest, wrapping my heart in a freezing grip.

He is the epitome of my nightmares—the ghost of my past.

“My dear, Fallon, it’s been a while…” His voice slithers through the air, chillingly familiar and dripping with sinister warmth. It is my father. Somehow, he escaped from prison and came straight here for me, like an executioner sharpening his tools before the final blow.

My pulse races, instinctively drowning out the sound of my father’s voice in the whirlwind of panic that clouds my mind. I feet hopelessly cornered, a fragile bird caught in the talons of a predator. Closing my eyes doesn’t help, though I seek solace in the darkness behind them. I can almost escape, pretend it is just a nightmare and that I will wake up safe in my bed, far away from the horrors that have chased me here.

But the scent of danger grows stronger, and the memory of the past bubbles up like noxious fumes—the broken promises, the lies wrapped in silk, the love in which the venom seeped silently.

Unwittingly, I pull on my restraints, only to feel the cold steel of the chains digging into my skin, trapping me in a nightmare with no chance of waking. Emerson watches me, the sadistic pleasure evident in his satisfied smirk, while my father leans in closer, his intentions clear in his piercing gaze—a dark storm of emotions battles within me.

“Do you remember when you thought you could escape me?” he hisses, the vile memories crashing over me like stormy waves. “Calling the cops was a pussy move.” He reaches forward ostensibly to caress my cheek. Instinctively, I recoil, my body betraying the remnants of affection I had once held before betrayal had stained our bond. “You were so foolish to think you could outrun me.”

Emerson steps even closer, pulling a gleaming knife from his pocket. The metallic glint coldly dances in the dim light, compelling me to suck in a sharp breath. “Don’t move. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt before the real fun begins,” he taunts, his voice oozing with anticipation. The sinister suggestion behind his words coils around my lungs.Is he going to rape me while my father stands there and watches? And then what? Kill me?I could barely bring myself to catch my breath, my heart echoing in my ears as panic tightened my throat like a vice.

But somewhere within the disarray, a flicker of resolve ignites. Though fear seeps through my veins, a different pulse surges alongside it—one of defiance. I am no longer that innocent girl shackled by the benevolent guise of a father, nor the victim crushed under the weight of despair. No, I am stronger, hardened by the scars that paint my skin.

With a sudden rush of clarity, I can’t allow the shadows of my past to dictate my future. Scrambling for my voice, I shout back, “You might have escaped prison, but you don’t own me. I’m not afraid of you!”

My defiance seems to catch both men off guard as surprise flickers in their expressions. For a heartbeat, they hesitate, and I seize the moment to rattle my chains with a fierce fervor.

My father’s smirk falters, eyes narrowing as he grapples with the unfolding reality. “You think you have strength? You’ve always been weak. Just a scared little girl hiding behind a façade,” he sneers, but I can see now it is a desperate ploy to weaken me.

“Maybe I was ‘weak’ when I was under your shadow,” I reply, my voice steady, “but I have uncovered the light within me. It can no longer be extinguished by you.”

The room pulses with charged tension. I am no longer just Fallon; I am a force encapsulating vengeance, love where it is deserved, and the complete expunction of everything that has tried to break me.

I won’t let fear consume me. I search the shadows, looking for a flicker of hope. Then I see him—Remy—standing just outside the faint glow of the light, his eyes lock onto mine, filled with an intensity that sends warmth rushing back to my heart. He is my lifeline, the unexpected hero who ignites the embers of resilience within me.

Just as Emerson lunges forward, that silver knife reflecting menace between us, I barely register the motion as Remy springsinto action. In one fluid movement, he slams his fist into my father’s face. The noise of chaos erupts as two more shadowy figures stumble in—Nix and Gray, their protective instincts rising to the surface as they shove Emerson against the wall, removing the threat in one electrifying sweep.

The ache in my head forces me to close my eyes, a deluge of thoughts crashing against the shore of my mind. I know I’ll be okay. Remy, with his fierce blue eyes and unyielding grip, won’t let anything happen to me now.

Twenty Five

Remington

“Ihave uncovered thelight within me. It can no longer be extinguished by you.” Fallon’s voice rings out through the library, sharp and clear, cutting through the dust-clad silence like a blade through silk.

I followed the tracker embedded in her phone, a desperate lifeline tethering me to her that had faltered in the heart of the labyrinthine stacks. But hearing her defiance—the audacity in her voice—stirs an instinctual fire within me, igniting adrenaline as I sprint toward the source of the sound.

I slip into the dim room at the rear—a dusty alcove sealed off from the world—my heart thundering an anxious hymn as I take in the scene before me. Emerson stands over Fallon, a knife glinting menacingly in his hand. The older man looming beside her, dark and sacrosanct, steals my breath away with the icy grip of terror. I see red, a pure, pulsing rage electrifying every nerve in my body.

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