Chapter five

Jane's POV

The night is so vividly remembered: darkness, black, devouring the last remnant of comforting city light as I drove home alone down the dark country roads from work. My head reeled on the happenings of the day—the whisper of deception and shadow of my broken past. I had hardly noticed the gentle purr of the car engine above the din in my head before the car's headlights flashed on and a fear that could not be dispelled surrounded me in an instant. I was shaken before I knew it, with a clasp of hardened hand on my car door.

The consequence was instantaneous—a shove that shoved the car into the ditch. My heart jumped into my chest and I clasped with a grip at the wheel, but in the blink of an eye wild chaos had been loosed. The steering wheel tore with brute ferocity as I attempted to sever the brakes, and before I could even know what was occurring, the car veered wildly and crashed nose-first into the darkness. I woke up in fright. My head was pounding, and my eyes hurt with pain and terror tears. I was tied to a metal chair in a dirty old abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. The air smelled of dust and rust odor, and there was only one dim light bulb hanging overhead, swaying gently and casting dark foreboding shadows on the cracked concrete floor.

Panic set in as I tugged at the ropes wrapped around my wrists. "Where. where am I?" I rasped, barely above a whisper in the stifling silence. My heart pounded inside my chest, reminding me of the terror that had it trapped.

Creak of door and I extended my hand out into the blackness to sense an approaching presence. Presence solidified, wry poisonous grin spreading her lips—a face I despised and detested. Mae.

"Hi, Jane," she said, voice with false sweetness and poisonous venom. "I'm shocked you woke up. I believed you'd sleep the whole ordeal out.".

She loomed above me, the very personification of all the pain, all the lies I'd suffered all those years. Mae's eyes glittered with sadistic pleasure as she paced back and forth in front of me like an animal, slowly, carefully. I could feel the crushing taint of her contempt behind every word she uttered.

"Sorry. why are you doing this?" I could croak, my own voice trembling as much with fear, but also with the bitter sense of betrayal. I had believed I was leaving all the sleazy bits of my past in the rear-view mirror, and yet here it was, pouring all over me again.

Mae laughed, a humourless, bitter one that wrapped itself around my skin. "Oh, Jane, you were always such a naßve," she sneered. "You think you can come back from the dead and start again, like? Things that you'll never be able to get your head around, no matter how hard you try?"

She paused, her face hunched over me so that her breath was cold down my back. "You see, darling, your poor mother did not die by accident? Her death was not a horrible accident, but the result of something wicked?" Her voice tainted the air between us, each sentence a poisonous draught intended to contaminate my soul.

My head reeled, trying to glean from what she said. "What. what are you saying?" I hardly said at all. My head contorted itself in a wrench of fear and dismay attempting to fit together pieces of memory that stalked me throughout childhood.

Mae's tone became furious. It was Damien's drunk, reckless driving that it all began with, she went on, hardly reading from some monotonous thing as if she was reading from some boring piece of fact rather than an everything-changing truth. "He was drunk that night—too drunk even to think about himself. And you, sweet sister, were just an innocent victim of his pride." But that's only half of it. your dad, Zack, he knew.

He did all this behind your back, distorted the truth, and gave you lies and a broken heart.

Every sentence a punch. The name so associated with love and fidelity now twisted in my mind to be odious—a synonym for betrayal. My heart pounding, I had to rationalize the enormity of her revelation. How could the man I loved kill my mother? And most importantly, how did my father know about this betrayal?

My own eyes ran over, scraffling darkness into a smear of shock and pain. "No… it can't be," I struggled to force the words past my lips. I attempted to struggle against my restraints, a futile struggle to free myself from this chasm of pain. "Tell me it's not true… please.".

Mae's smile grew, eyes sparkling with acid victory. "Yes, absolutely, Jane, it was no thoughtless act. It was a calculated fruit of Damien's evil inconsideration and your father's greed. The two of them conspired to hold this for themselves what all along properly belonged to you, what your mother labored all her life on with her own hands—her own land, her own money, her life's work."

My head reeled as I fought to swallow her words. The consequences were too terrible. All my recollections of my mother's gentle smile, all the gentle words she had ever spoken to me, stained with deceit. I could sense the earth beneath my feet tremble, collapse under the burden of a truth too vile to be believed.

I couldn't even gather my thoughts, or form a response, before the sound of crunching footsteps through the warehouse rang through the building. The footsteps were slow and deliberate, slicing across the thick, electric air that Mae had so struggled to bring us inside. My ears picked up the sound as the footsteps increased, closer.

The door slammed open and in an instant, Nate's massive frame filled the doorway. His eyes were burning with rage and determination as he gazed upon the vision before him—me tied up and at his mercy—and Mae standing there with her sneering smile.

"Stop, Mae!" he shouted, the sound of his voice echoing off the concrete buildings. He came before us in a moment, filling the space which had been standing between him and us. He covered it in a step or two, grasping Mae's wrist and snatching up her arm with that threatening grip which had terrified her. His dictatorial dominance had thrust her back physically, chilling her hand free from where it had clasped something.

"Nate…" I said, relief sweeping over me at the sight of his face familiar—my anchor who'd ridden every storm alongside me. And even as gratitude waited in line to follow upon relief, the bitter taste of betrayal still clung to my lips.

"Let her go!" Nate growled, hard and low as he pushed Mae away. His seething, uncompromising stare threatened his to back off beating me up already, and it clung to hers. The two of them stood there for a moment long, tense as eternity, locked in idiot, passive combat—a combat of revenge and unspoken knowledge.

Mae's eyes blazed with anger, but she remained silent as Nate's hand clamped over, and she rocked back on her heels. My own heart pounded against eardrums as adrenaline pushed shock aside for Mae's guilty confessions. Nate stood beside me, fingers working deftly to unwrap the bindings from my wrists. "It's all right, Jane," he whispered, voice a refuge of calm in anarchy.".

And even with the comforting words that he wrapped me in, there was a persistence of seriousness from Mae's revelation. There was a scorching oath that was branded on it—a mute oath that I would unravel all the secrets, no matter how abhorrent or disgusting the truth will become. All the falsehoods, all the subterfuge so masterfully woven into the very essence of my existence would be unraveled, strand by strand.

When Nate unbuckled my wrist straps and pulled me to my feet standing, I heard the rage-wracked dying laughter of Mae in my head, a warning of the black road before me.

I staggered down unsteady legs, steadied by Nate, never once deviating from his hard, unyielding gaze. I knew then that my path to mend the truth had begun. My own betrayal had consumed me, a blaze that would never subside until all the secrets were let out. "I'm sorry, Jane," Nate panted, his hand tracing down my shoulder as if to restrain me. "I promise you, we'll get the truth of this out. All of their lies they ever said to you will be exposed." I sat, my head nodding almost unnoticeably, sorrow fury mingling with resolve. Even the acrid taste of betrayal running through every cell of my body would not conquer me. I would, rather, utilize it to drive me toward creating a path to justice—a path that would lead me home to truth regarding my mother, Damien, Zack, and even Mae.

As the wail of sirens receded into the distance—Nate had called the police as fast as he could—empty warehouse gave way behind me, to be followed by hard, icy resolve.

One last, bitter look at Mae, who had fallen back against a wall, her face twisted behind a twisted face of rage. Her words would haunt me, yes, but they would also push me on to find out the truth. All the deceit, all the lies would come to light and be revealed