Page 36 of Liar's Heart
She shakes her head, disgust warping her features. “That the powers that be are trafficking people and using Ferrymen to do it without their knowledge? No. But I have run into something similar on a smaller scale before. I thought it was an isolated thing, just a few people involved, but now I'm wondering if it was part of something bigger.” She must sense that I’m about to launch into follow-up questions because she plants a hand on my chest to stop me. “Most of it isn’t my story to tell.”
I cover her hand with mine and ask, “And the people involved?”
A wicked little smile plays on her lips. “Their hearts are at my house. Some of my favorite trophies.”
My mouth is on hers before I can stop myself, our smiles pressing together before she uses that hand on my chest to push me back again. “Stop getting distracted,” she scolds.
I’m grinning like a fool. “Can’t help it. You’re incredibly sexy when you’re violent.” Her pupils dilate at my praise. We’ll be exploring that later.
“We were confident these people were being taken and sold. For sex, labor? We weren’t sure. And we didn’t know who was involved, both as buyers and sellers. Obviously, Alec was at least complicit in it, if not actively participating, since he was using us to kidnap victims. I couldn’t risk finding out just how deep this went after Ascension, and we couldn’t risk me being killed so I could be replaced with someone more agreeable. It took us some time, but between the three of us, we were able to confirm that at least some of the missing people—again, mostly women—were being sold to members. Those wound up being the easiest to track, even with identities being changed. The others, we’re still at a loss for what’s happening to them.”
We sit in silence for a moment, letting the gravity of what I’m saying sink in before I continue. “The women who were sold—who are still being sold—most of them are being sold as slaves. Some of them, though, are being sold as brides.”
Merrick’s mouth slowly opens, forming an O as she processes what I just said. “Not everyone who was picked up was a nobody. Some of them were members or people with desirable connections or resources. Those women were sold into marriage, usually to pay off a debt or cancel out some transgression. Most of the time, not even their own.
“It all gets hidden in tradition and contracts, all arranged and executed by Hera, Charon, and the Council. The Binding?It's to break them. Some of these brides aren't allowed to leave that room until they're docile enough to take home and handle there. It can take weeks, sometimes months. The underground room with no windows or sense of time, the drugs, the guards at the door? We've hidden atrocities by dressing them up as tradition and pretending this isn’t how they control us… punish us. It’s all misdirection; show people what they expect to see, and they won’t look for anything else. Make it all feel normal, and no one will say shit when it’s not.”
The look of abject horror on my wife’s face is both validating and heartbreaking. But if I stop now, I’ll never manage the rest. And she deserves to know everything. I take both her hands in mine, holding them as a means to anchor myself. “We found this out because we found out my mom was one of those brides. At the same time, we learned that they were going to take you.
“Ox, understandably, went ballistic. We were really fucking lucky that we found this out before your bridal contract had been sold. According to him, the two of you were already planning to get married one day, and there were no terms stipulating when the marriage had to be executed, so he bought it with no intention of ever telling you. He said he wanted everything to pan out how it was supposed to, that all he really did was go to Hera sooner than he’d planned, but the end result was going to be the same—the two of you together. Just like he’d always intended.”
Tears are pouring down her face as she tries and fails to hold back her sobs. She chokes out a broken, wet-sounding wail and says, “That's why I didn't have to sign it. I couldn't figure out how a contract could exist without my knowledge or signature, but it’s because my consent was never a part of the equation.” I nod.
“Why?” she says with a whine, that one word filled with so much grief. My chest cracks wide open at the sound, herpain enough to steal the air right out of my lungs. “What was I paying for? What did I do?”
I clear my throat, finding it suddenly thick with emotion. “Not you, baby. Your parents. You were paying for your parents.” Confusion joins the anguish on her face, and I press on. “Did you see the petition for dissolution in that file?” She nods. “Allegedly, my mom died from an aneurysm, but considering my father’s history of violence toward her… I always thought he killed her, but I had no proof. I even snuck into the funeral home and checked her body for evidence of execution before we buried her, but since she’d already been embalmed, I couldn’t really separate what cuts were from that or if her heart had been removed. A few years later, I received a copy of that petition in the mail anonymously. It justifies Alec having her executed for treason. Or it would have if he hadn't falsified it to frame her. I didn't know it at the time, but your mother was the one who sent it to me. Baby,” I hedge, not looking forward to this next part. “Do you know how your parents died?”
Keening wails tear through her chest. She doesn't answer me, but her reaction speaks for itself—she thought she knew, but she didn't. I'm gripping her hands so tightly I’ve gone white-knuckled. I expect her to pull away from me, but she doesn't. Finally, she forces out the words, “Did… did you…? Was it you?”
I emphatically shake my head. She turns blurry in front of me as tears of my own begin to well in my eyes. I can't take this anymore. My father has personally terrorized this woman for most of her adult life. I should have protected her better somehow. It doesn't matter if I didn't know her then. She’s mine to protect now, and I hate that I can't save her from the pain he’s caused. “No. It wasn't me. But I remember when it happened. I remember seeing the order.”
Her cries grow quieter, though she's still sobbing hardenough she's shaking with it. It's another minute before her next question. “Their hearts?”
“Alec has them. And my mother's. And Ox's.”
Her lip trembles harder as she curses under her breath. I continue. “Ox secured your bridal contract, thinking that would be the end of it. Whoever your bridal price was supposed to go to should’ve been appeased with the money. You would be safe, and the two of you would be free to marry when you were ready. It should have worked. But it turned out the person who had arranged the sale of your contract intended to keep it instead of opening it up to buyers, and he does not like to lose.”
Holding her gaze, I wait for her to piece it together. My clever little fox doesn't take long, and the myriad of emotions playing out across her face is intense. Wrath, disgust, sorrow. Anguish. It all culminates in one horrified word: “Alec.”
Nodding, I say, “He said your parents cost him a wife. Therefore, the appropriate restitution was a new one. And that Ox had interfered with a pending marriage, essentially committing theft since you were an asset. Roman thinks the plan was to kill Ox all along to get him away from you, and this was just the opportunity he took.
“We didn't have a lot of warning for what was coming. There wasn't much time. But before he was executed, Ox managed to get some things squared away. First, he was able to transfer a significant sum of money to Roman in various accounts for us to work our way toward financial independence from Alec. That's what we started Typhon with, so Alec couldn't try to claim any part of the company.
“Roman was able to get Ox's will amended to transfer your contract to me upon his death. If we hadn't transferred it, his death would have just put you right back in the same position as before, so we had to keep it intact. Alec didn’t like that, either, and took it to the Council. I was able to plead my case that, ultimately, by marrying me, your wealth would stillenter the Sinclair line in the same capacity, so your debt should be considered paid. The Council, thankfully, agreed with me and ruled that the transfer held. There was a risk that Alec might've killed one of us to spite the other, but it was low. If he killed you, then I'd be more than justified in having him executed. If he killed me, he lost his only heir with no guarantee that he could have, raise, and train another one before he died. Forcing me to be the one to kill Ox was his way of spiting me, both by having to live with knowing I murdered my friend, but also to drive a wedge between you and me.
“Ox wrote two letters. One was to his sister, which was put with his will. The other was for you, given to me to deliver at my discretion.” I then flip over our hands, showing her my wrist and the two thin scars there, one much newer than the other, but both for her. “Then he made me take a blood vow, swearing to protect you with my life, to treat you with all the love and respect he would have. But also to love you as I would. To fall in love with you for myself and give you a true marriage full of joy and passion and comfort.
“And in the little time we had left, the time Roman was doing his best to buy us before Alec came for him, Ox sat and told me about you. He told me about your wicked sense of humor, which has to be earned before you'll let it come out. That you're a thrill seeker and beyond deadly with a knife. That you're fiercely loyal and wildly passionate and that you deserve nothing but the same in return. He told me about the first time he told you he loved you and the first time you said it back. He told me about the life he dreamed for the two of you, the simple desires of his heart: to be together, married, and finally free to love each other past sunrise. To fill your home with warmth and laughter. To hold you while you slept every night and kiss you awake each morning. To watch your body change, first nurturing and growing your children, then as you grew old together.
“Listening to him, watching the look on his face, while he spent his final free moments talking about the person he loved above all else… that was when I began falling in love with you.” I've never told anyone else about this conversation before. It's something I hold incredibly sacred. It was more than the final directives of a dying man; it was two men bound by the same woman, one passing on his blessing and his love to the other. For that brief period of time, Merrick belonged to us both, and the only thing that mattered was our shared love for her. There was no jealousy or anger, only concern for the woman we loved and her needs. Ox went to his death at peace, knowing Merrick was in my care. There is no greater honor he could have given me.
“Merrick, I want you to understand that Ox spent his last precious moments on this earth guaranteeing your safety and happiness because those things were more important to him than his own life. He loved you so fucking much, baby. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I killed him. I'm sorry for withholding information from you and interfering in your life without your consent. I'm so fucking sorry for all of the pain my family has caused you over the years. But I'm not sorry to have met you and know you. I'm not sorry that I love you. And I'm anything but sorry that I have the honor of calling you my wife.”
Tears are still slowly sliding down my face and hers, so when she leans forward and presses her lips to mine, I can’t tell whose I’m tasting. It doesn’t really matter whose tears they are though. When Merrick pulls back just enough to whisper the words “I forgive you, and I love you” over my salt-kissed lips, I feel them wash me clean all the same.
Early morning daylightstreams into the bedroom, casting everything in a diffused glow. A rogue strand of Ender’s hair has fallen across his forehead in his sleep, and the light dancing across his face brings out the warmer tones in his chocolaty hair. His mussed waves and lax features give him a boyish appearance in sleep, especially combined with how he’s sprawled out on his stomach, arms tucked under his pillow. He looks so peaceful, and after yesterday, I’m glad he’s getting some rest.
Yesterday was emotionally taxing for us both, to say the least. After Ender’s confessions, we were too spent to do much more than grab something to eat, help each other bathe, and then crawl into bed early. My eyes are still sore and puffy from crying, making me doubly grateful we both decided to take today off. I’m sure I’d have a hell of a headache by lunch if I tried to stare at a computer screen right now.
