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Did I know why my brother didn’t turn down the money? No. Before the accident, my brother wanted to go pro in the NHL, despite my father’s plans for him in the family business. Lincoln could’ve been free to live out his dream. Why would he have been willing to sell his soul for money? Why was I considering it? Was this how much we were worth? $50,000? Maybe. Maybe for me, anyway. My older brothers didn’t escape Dad’s control. I didn’t—couldn’t—until I had money of my own.
“Do you know why?” he asked again.
“No.”
“Don’t you want to find out?” he asked. “Don’t you want to find out what happened?”
“Yes.” My voice shook.
“Is that a yes, you want to find out? Yes, you’ll start taking steps to join our group?”
“I said yes.” My hands balled into fists. I was standing my ground dammit.
“Good.”
A rush of air fell over us and all of the candles went out suddenly, all at once, and we were all covered in darkness. Not even the stars on the other side of the window above us were helpful to light the room.
“What is happening?” I asked. I looked around, relying on my senses as I blinked in the darkness and prayed my pupils got used to it quickly. I was shaking as I asked, “What are you doing?”
If I’d walked into this room and it had been dark, I could’ve relied on my senses. I could’ve listened for footsteps, but I was completely lost right now, unsure of whether to move forward or back or trip over candles if I tried going side to side. I didn’t hear their approach, but suddenly, there was something over my head and my arms were being held behind me. My first instinct was to scream and kick, trashing against the grasp of the person who held me and lifted me off the ground, but it was useless. It was definitely a man, a strong one who was probably used to taking hits and stood despite them. My mind went to my brother first. Lincoln could take a hit like nobody’s business. Then instantly my thoughts turned to Hailey’s words when we first met. She said she suspected that the four hockey players we’d seen, Logan included, were in a society. All of those thoughts jumbled together as I gasped, took in air to scream again, but the oxygen was limited and with him walking as I tried to scream, the cloth kept going into my mouth, making me feel more out of breath. I felt like a fish out of water, quite literally.
His grip tightened around me, but I continued to kick, to move, in hopes that he’d drop me. I shut my eyes tightly in hopes that it would help the feeling of confinement, but all it did was intensify it—the silence, the boots thumping on the floor as he walked with me in his arms, the darkness, my shallow breathing. He stopped walking suddenly and I was set down like a bale of hay. His hands were gone. His footsteps retreated. And then a door shut, leaving me in the complete darkness. I yanked the cloth from my head and tossed it aside, trying to catch my breath in heaping gasps as I sat there.