Uncovering You 10: The Finale Read online

  Esteban looks at me sadly and shakes his head. “That is what I wanted, Miss Ryder. Not anymore.”

  “What do you mean?” I whisper.

  He sighs, and walks toward me. He deposits his wine glass on the table, and sags into a chair.

  I see him from up close. For the first time, I see how very small he seems. How fragile. How broken.

  His eyes don’t have that manic glint to them anymore. All I see in them is an overwhelming sadness.

  “I don’t want it anymore,” he tells me. “It is something I can never get. All I want now…” He exhales heavily, “…is peace.”

  I scoot my chair around a little bit to face him.

  “But peace,” he sighs again, “is unattainable, given what I’ve had done to you.”

  Is he being penitent? I’m shocked. Is my kidnapper—my second kidnapper—developing a conscience? It’s beyond belief.

  I run a hand over my head again just to make sure I’m not hallucinating.

  “I’m sorry, Lilly.” He looks at me. “I’ve been led astray. Consumed by greed and vengeance. I manufactured this—this plot—to get my company back. To strike at Mr. Stonehart in a way that he would keenly feel. Assurances were made, but now, it seems, those assurances were false.”

  “What did Hugh tell you?” I whisper. I feel my chance, however vague and uncertain, floating somewhere just beyond reach. But just minutes ago, there was no chance that I could speak of.

  I reach out, and actually take his hand. “I can help make it right.”

  “Can you?” He gives a small, humorless laugh. “I’ve poisoned your mind, Lilly. I’ve damaged you forever. I’ve taken your life, all your potential, away from you. For what? Greed. Avarice.”

  He scoffs and pulls his hand away. “Oh, if my family could see me now…”

  I swallow.

  “There’s no going back for you, Miss Ryder,” he says. “Nor for me. Not ever. We’re both committed. There is no making it right. And unfortunately, in this tale, there is only one end for you.”

  He rises. He looks down at me. “I’m sorry,” he says once more. With that, he turns, and walks away.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Mere minutes after Esteban leaves, I am visited by the third member of his guard. The silent one, who’s never said a word to me.

  He comes up the stairs smoking a cigarette. I look over my shoulder when I hear him coming. My insides seize in fear.

  But my worry was ill-advised. All he does is grunt a crude, “He wants to see you,” just before dropping an envelope on the table. Then he turns and leaves me alone.

  He wants to see me? Who wants to see me?

  I reach for the sealed, small, square envelope. My heart skips a beat when I see Jeremy’s tight, precise writing on the front.

  To Lilly.

  Excitement rips through me as I tear it open. I look around making sure I’m alone. Then I withdraw the paper.

  I unfold it. My breath catches when I see lines and lines of small, tightly bound text. Without even reading, I know right away: Jeremy wrote this.

  He wrote this, whatever it is, for me. When? I scan the page but there’s no date.

  Doubt forms in the back of my mind: What if I’m imagining this? Then my hand crawls up to the top of my head. I wince when my fingers find that awful, prickly skin.

  It means this is real! I hold the letter up so it’s better illuminated by the flames and begin to read:

  Lilly.

  I cannot say all the things I want to in this letter. You know why. My words will not be restricted to your eyes alone. Others will see.

  So, I will say what I must, and leave it at that.

  I have to see you. I have to know that you are alive. Believe me when I say that I am willing to do whatever it takes to get you back.

  But I have to be sure. I have to be sure that you are you. I have to make sure that your safety is guaranteed.

  I failed you. And now, I am paying for my mistake.

  I will make it right. That, I swear. On my mother’s grave, I promise you. I will do whatever it takes to get you back. You know I hate repetition. But that one promise is worth repeating, over and over again:

  I am willing to do anything to get you back.

  So to whoever else may read this message, know that my word is sealed in writing. I am committed. You will return to me, my sweet Lilly-Flower.

  I have initiated the transfer of Stonehart Industries stock. The pieces are in place. All that remains is final confirmation. Affirmation, that I still have you.

  And so I request a meeting. On the night of July 10th, you and I will meet. I will see that you are safe, that you are secure. And it is only after that is guaranteed that the demands made of me shall be met.

  I failed you once, Lilly. I did not protect you as I should. But I love you. My love for you trumps all else. Let me be ruined. I will willingly sign my empire away if it means I can have you back.

  July 10th, Lilly. On that day, you are coming home.

  My hands shake as I put the letter down. I can’t believe what I’ve read. Could it be true? Would Jeremy truly give up all he has for me?

  I can’t ask him to do that. And I have the overwhelming fear that he and I will both be stepping into a horrible trap.

  July 10th. July 10th. How long ago was this letter written? How much time do I have left?

  What day is it today?

  “Today is the dawn of the ninth.” A voice informs me. “That means we have approximately a day and a half to get you to the designated meeting place.”

  I spin around, clamping a hand over my mouth. I hadn’t realized I’d spoken!

  Big Man comes into view, along with Hugh. “Lilly,” Hugh continues, “you’ll be meeting my son tomorrow night.” He extends a black cloth sack to me. “Over your head. Quickly now. We have to rush to make sure we get there in time, before your… visions… take hold of you again.”

  The last thing I see, before the cloth covers my face, is Hugh’s triumphant and sinister grin.

  My hands are tied behind me and I’m directed, none too kindly, down an unfamiliar path. There’s a stuttering roar in the distance. I recognize the blades of a helicopter.

  The sound becomes deafening as we approach. Someone—Big Man, probably—lifts me up and deposits me on the metal floor of the cabin.

  “Eighteen hours you have to get her back!” Somebody screams. Esteban? Maybe. It’s hard to tell with the bag over my head and the roar of the rotors.

  The door slides shut, isolating us from the noise. I go to my knees, trying to right myself. Something hard strikes me in the back of the head.

  Pain explodes through my skull. I pass out.

  “Welcome to… paradise!”

  The bag is ripped from my head. I gasp, wide awake, alert, and panicking.

  I’m strapped tightly to a chair. I cannot move. My head whips around as I try to take in as much of my surroundings as I can.

  I’m in a vast, empty warehouse. It’s cold. Flood lights from the ceiling illuminate the place. Their harsh whiteness reflects off the shining, grey floor.

  “What—” I try to mumble, only to realize that I can’t. There’s some type of gag in my mouth.

  Esteban is right there beside me. That glimmer of madness is back in his eyes.

  Is this real? I wonder. I want to touch my scalp.

  But then I remember that, not once, did I question reality when lost in the illusions. That knowledge steadies me. This is real.

  “Well, well, well, Miss Ryder,” Esteban laughs. “How do you like your new accommodations?”

  I make a futile attempt to speak that amounts to nothing.

  “Your sweet Jeremy picked them out for us,” he says.

  My eyes widen. Jeremy’s here! He’s nearby, I can feel it!

  I redouble my efforts to speak.

  “Quiet,” Esteban snaps. “You have to be told how this will all work. You do want to see him. Don’t you?”


  Immediately, I stop struggling and go still.

  “Thought so,” Esteban smiles. “So, Miss Ryder, here are our rules of engagement:

  “You will be given ten minutes together. How you spend that time is up to you. Physical contact, however, is prohibited. To guarantee your compliance, and to nullify any chance of escape, I’ve been given… this.”

  Esteban kneels down, and pulls from his briefcase, a thin, black, plastic collar.

  I suck in a panicked breath. My heartbeat doubles. My chest rises and falls in short, tense gasps.

  “Ah, yes,” Esteban smiles again. “You recognize it. You know, I noticed one much like it around your neck when I visited Jeremy’s home.” He steps to me. I shy away.

  “Hush, hush! Don’t worry,” he tells me, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand. “It’ll all be over soon. If Mr. Stonehart complies. You had better hope he does, because, if not…” He snaps the collar around my neck in a sudden jab. “…well, all it takes is one press of a button and you’re pretty much a goner. Aren’t you?”

  I force myself to sit tall and stare him straight in the eyes. I will not have him see me afraid.

  “And there it is again,” he murmurs. “That ill-advised façade of strength. Rose informed me that you like to feign appearances.

  “Such a filthy thing, this collar,” he says, shaking his head. “And to think, you want to return to the man who first fitted it on you! My dear, if anything, you should have viewed my kidnapping as an escape. But,” he shrugs. “That’s just the way the cookie crumbles. That’s the right saying. Isn’t it? Forgive me. English is not my mother tongue.”

  I glare at him, silent and full of hatred.

  “So,” he continues, “you understand how it is vital that you cooperate. Yes? The current of your collar has been, hmm, what’s the right word… adjusted?” He snickers. Then he leans forward, pressing his fists into my thighs. “It’s been doubled, Lilly,” he tells me. Then he shakes his head. “Not even one as determined as you can live through a shock powerful as that.”

  My eyes widen in horror.

  “Mr. Stonehart has been informed of the new threat to your well-being,” Esteban says. “If he wants you back, in truth, he will have you before the night is done. And, if not…?” He lifts his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. “Then it’s lights out for poor Miss Ryder. In either case,” He smiles. “You and I will not be seeing each other again. This is it, our final good-bye. I hope that, for your sake, Mr. Stonehart comes to the right decision today.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  After Esteban leaves, a long stretch of time passes where the only thing I hear is my own frantic breathing.

  I am lucid. I know it. I can feel the cold air against my shaved scalp. Goosebumps prickle my skin.

  I try to calm my breathing. I cannot. Every inhale is borderline frantic. The exhales are no better. Every time I breathe, I’m reminded of the tightness around my throat, of the constricting, deceiving thin strip of plastic that has been the source of so much pain, so much uncertainty, since the first moment I woke with it on almost a year ago.

  Almost a year but not exactly. It’s been ten months. And now things have gone full circle. I’m in a warehouse in God-knows-what location. I have the collar back around my neck. The current’s been doubled. The control of it is, once more, in the hands of a madman.

  A madman who has already admitted he’d be willing to kill me. A madman spurred past the brink of sanity by the person who first fitted the collar on me.

  Jesus.

  A sound comes from behind me. I whip my head around, instantly alert. Could that be Jeremy?

  But when I look, there’s no one there. Just the long, vast, empty expanse of warehouse space.

  Did I imagine the noise?

  Dread fills me. Every passing minute where nothing happens makes me more anxious. Where is Jeremy? He’s supposed to be here. Esteban said he’s here. Why isn’t he here, Goddammit?

  I start thrashing against the bonds. “Let me out! Let me out!” I try to scream. But the gag in my mouth muffles all speech. A sweat breaks out over my back. I feel hot and freezing cold at the same time. It’s like I’m in the throes of a horrible fever combined with the worst elements of a nightmare.

  A cramp shoots through my left arm. I stop, panic ripping through me. For a dreadful moment I think the current has been turned on.

  But, no. That was just my imagination. My imagination, or another latent effect of the poison that’s been given to me?

  I start to tremble. To shake. I can’t help it. It comes from the depths of my body, from the very core. I cannot fight it. How can I fight? How can I do anything, restricted as I am, stuck as I am, in my current position?

  Dread continues to fill me. It flows into me like sewage pumped out of a septic tank. I thought I was strong. I thought I could resist. But there’s nothing left. Not anymore. I’ve been broken. I’ve been overcome.

  Where is Jeremy, Goddammit?

  Could Esteban have lied? Could this be another one of his games? His, Hugh’s, or Rose’s twisted, fucked up, sadistic games? I’m the victim of so many wrongdoings. How is it possible to stay strong when all the lights of my life have been snuffed out?

  All but one. I still harbor hope that Jeremy will show up. That Jeremy will come, and save the day. Just like Paul did the time I fell underground. I tried to save myself. But that was as much an illusion as anything that Hugh’s drug has induced.

  In the end, were it not for Paul, I would have died in that hole. Just like now. Now, if not for Jeremy, I am going to die here.

  I am sure of it.

  I bite into the cloth between my teeth and scream as loud as I can.

  A door opens. I hear it. This time, I’m absolutely certain. I jerk my head to the sound. In the distance—lo and behold—I see Jeremy.

  Jeremy.

  I blink rapidly, trying to dispel the vision. Despite what Esteban told me, despite what I know of where I am and what is going on, despite all of that, I cannot believe he is actually here.

  I close my eyes, shake my head, and open my eyes again. When I do…

  He’s still there.

  He sees me too. At exactly the moment he enters, the industrial fans in the ceiling turn on. Collectively, they are as loud as the roar of any plane turbine.

  Jeremy’s mouth opens. He yells something. But the words do not reach my ears. I cannot hear him over the roar.

  He starts to run. My heart swells in my chest. My whole body is consumed by warmth when I see it’s really him there. He’s not an illusion. He’s real, and he’s coming for me…

  Without warning, he staggers. It looks for a moment like he’s been hit from behind. He crumples to his knees, tries to keep going, tries to get up—and then collapses once more.

  His limbs start to jerk in crude, short motions.

  Then the fit passes. For half a second, he lies there, absolutely still, on the cold, unforgiving floor. The next he’s pushing himself up again, jaw set, determination clear on his face. He’s again speeding toward me.

  He doesn’t even get two steps closer before staggering down again. This time, the jerking overtakes his whole body. He fights it. I can see him fighting it, trying to resist. But what…

  My eyes widen in sudden, horrifying alarm. There’s only one thing I know that can do that to someone—

  My heart freezes when I see it: A thin black strip around Jeremy’s neck.

  He’s been fitted with another collar!

  I thrash against my bonds wildly, desperately needing to get free, desperately needing to speak, to scream, to call for Jeremy.

  The second shock passes. Jeremy’s body loosens. His head drops. His back rises and falls in deep, heavy, steadying breaths. One, two, three and he’s up again. Coming towards me…

  He does not run this time. He walks, each stride as determined and powerful as any I’ve seen him take. His eyes zero in on me. Even with the vast space between us, I can feel h
is intensity.

  These damned fucking ventilation fans! Why are they fucking running?

  Jeremy comes closer. Every step he takes makes me feel more like this can’t be real. Every step he takes brings him closer to me. Every step he takes lets me see him that much better.

  I can scarcely believe this is happening.

  I stop breathing. I go still watching him, waiting for him to close the final gap and rescue me from this nightmare. Whereas before, escape never registers anywhere on my radar, now, with Jeremy here, I feel like somehow, I might already be rescued.

  Hope blooms inside me. It’s been suppressed for so long that it startles me with its intensity. It washes through me like a cleansing waterfall, purging all the negative emotions filling my brain. It parts the darkened clouds of my mind and gives me something solid, something real that I can hold on to. It makes the last awful moments of my existence somehow less. It nearly extinguishes all the scars and memories of the abuse I’ve suffered…

  Jeremy stops. Twenty feet away from me, he stops.

  His mouth opens, and he speaks. But—damn these fans!—I can’t hear a thing.

  He reaches into his pocket and takes out his cell phone. He punches something into the screen. He puts the phone away. Looks at me. Stares at me, like a man lost in the desert who has just topped a crest and come upon a hidden, blue oasis.

  The fans shutter off.

  My head jerks up. I look at the slowing, rotating blades. The silence makes me feel, for the first time, the tears welling in my eyes.

  “Lilly.”

  Jeremy’s voice brings me instantly to him. The way he says my name breaks my heart. It’s full of longing and desperation and even unbridled love.

  I stare back at him. I have no words. Even if the gag was not in my mouth, I’d have no words.

  I see him there, before me, for real, in the flesh. So much happiness fills me that it makes me want to weep. My mind flashes through all the things we have shared. And I’m filled with sadness for everything that cannot be.

  I’m no fool. I know I’ve been poisoned. I know that I’ve been tainted. Ruined. Broken. Damaged beyond repair.