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Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next day, I won't wake up until late morning. Brent was kind enough to let me sleep in after tossing and turning half the night. When I come downstairs, Brent is in the kitchen preparing lunch while Claire is quietly playing in the playpen.

"Hey beautiful, did you sleep well?" Brent asks as I walk over to greet him with a kiss. "Yeah, thanks, I really needed that," I answer and after kissing him, I walk over to Claire to lift her out of the playpen. She looks at me happily and waves her arms wildly. "Your dad texted me this morning..." Brent says as I walk back to the kitchen with Claire in my arms. I look at him worriedly. My father hardly texts Brent, so it doesn't mean much good. “He needs help with something.” He says when he sees my worried look.

"Help? With what?" I ask, confused, and he shrugs. "No idea. He asked if I could help this afternoon because Alex didn't have time or something," he answers. He tries to act like it's nothing, but I can tell from his voice that he finds it just as strange as I do. In all the time we have been together, my father has never asked him for help. "It must be something as simple as lifting or carrying something." He says and continues making lunch. He is probably right. Despite my father's position, he is getting older; his body has a limit, too.

After lunch, Brent gets ready to go to my parents. He still acts like it's no big deal, but he can't hide his suspicion and insecurity from me. I watch through the window as he drives down the street, and I pray that there is no need for that uncertainty, that nothing is wrong, and that he will return home safely soon.

After I put Claire down for her afternoon nap, I put on a series on Netflix.

At first, my thoughts keep wandering to Brent, but eventually, I manage to push it aside. When the second episode is almost over, Claire starts screaming hysterically.

I'm scared to death, and I sprint upstairs. I lift her out of bed, expecting her to stop crying, or at least less loudly. But nothing could be further from the truth. Her crying hurts my ears.

At this moment, I'm glad that I'm not a wolf. I'm sure I would suffer hearing damage, her cries are so loud. I gently rock her up and down while whispering soothing words in her ear, but it doesn't seem to accomplish anything. I continue to whisper soothing words as I walk her down the stairs. Normally, she calms down a bit when she's moving, but she's so stuck in her panic that I don't think she even notices.

I try one trick after another to calm her down. With each failed attempt, I become more desperate. "There has to be something that calms you down." I whimper as tears roll down my cheeks.

I put Claire in her playpen, which seems to make it worse. With teary eyes, I look for my phone. Maybe Brent knows something. I can't hear her screams anymore for a moment and walk into the hallway with my cell phone to my ear. Not that it does much because her screaming continues incessantly. Brent's phone keeps ringing. I try again, when he hears me calling twice in a row, he understands that it is urgent. I lean against the door with my eyes closed. But my second call is also not answered.

I shout in frustration before walking back into the room to pick up Claire again. I hold her tight and walk laps around the room. Hair bobbing up and down more and more roughly. Fortunately, I realized what I was doing in time and put her back in the playpen. I rub my face, thinking of a reason why she is so upset. I can't think of anything. I try calling Brent again, but he still doesn't answer.

“Aaaaaah!” I need to get my frustration and despair out. I throw my phone across the room. I'm shocked by my own reaction, which surprisingly helps me to think clearly again. I frantically start stuffing things into a bag for Claire. If Brent doesn't answer to help me, I'll go to him. Worst case scenario, my mother might be able to help too. Before I put Claire in her car seat, I grab my phone from the couch. Thank god it ended up there, and it is still intact.

I try not to pay attention to the passersby staring at me as I secure Claire in the car. I feel their pitying looks on my back.

When I start the car, Claire's crying seems to diminish for a moment, and I almost dare to feel relieved. My heart sinks again when she turns up the volume again before I've even left the street.

When Brent drives too fast, I am always the one to point out that there is a speed limit for a reason. Now, I'm the one who puts the pedal to the metal. I have almost halved the travel time when I drive into my parents' street.

Only then does it dawn on me that Claire's crying is a lot less loud than before.

I'd like to think it's because of the car ride, but I can't shake the thought that it's because we're close to Brent. What if he didn't answer because he couldn't, what if something bad was going on, and Claire sensed it, and that's why she was so panicky? I shake my head as if that makes the thoughts go away.

I walk to my parents' front door with a sobbing Claire in my arms. I knock on the door impatiently. Normally, I would use my key, but I have my hands full with Claire's stuff. If no one opens the door after knocking a second time, I try to fish my keys out of my bag.

"Hello?" I shout and awkwardly try to withdraw my key. "Mom? Brent?" I shout when I get no answer.

An uneasy feeling comes over me. I can't say why, but something tells me something is wrong. I slowly walk through the hallway to the living room. There is no one to be seen there.

"Mom?" I shout a little more cautiously this time. "Lilly?" I hear my mother calling. Her voice sounds shocked, and the hairs on the back of my neck immediately stand up. She walks out of the kitchen and looks at me with a smile. I examine her; her smile looks fake, and her body seems tense. "Mom, where's Brent?" I ask firmly. When she doesn't answer, I know something is wrong. She always knows exactly where my father is, at least most of the time. So, she needs to know where Brent is.

I walk towards her with long steps. "Where. Is. Brent?" I ask again, this time, my voice sounds a lot more urgent. Before she can answer, there is a roar.

BRENT! My eyes widen in fear; this can never be good. As I push Claire into my mother's hands, her look is filled with pain and shaking. I don't spend much time on it, the only thing I think about is that I have to get to him as soon as possible. Before my father hurt him more, unfortunately, I can guess where they are. The interrogation room in the basement, although I always call it the torture room. Because that's what he does there, I want to open the door, but it's locked. I bang hard on the door. "OPEN THE DOOR!"

No response.

“BRENT!” I pound again so hard my hand hurts. Still no response. But I know they can hear me.

Another loud, ferocious roar. I feel the door shaking under my hand. I look around for something I can use to force open the door, but I don't see anything useful. Maybe if I make a run for it, I can break the door open. I don't give it much of a chance, but I have to try. "Lilly, watch out. You'll break something!." I hear my mother say worriedly.

“THEN OPEN THAT FUCKING DOOR!” I shout desperately at her, my vision blurred by the tears streaming down my face. Not from sadness but from anger and fear. “OPEN THE DOOR MOM!” My voice cracks, and I look at her pleadingly. I see the doubt in her eyes.

"I...I can't." She stutters. "Can't or won't." I get ready to run into the door. "I... Your father has the key." She says, and I believe her. I run as fast as I can down the hall and slam into the door. I fall hard to the ground. I ignore the pain in my shoulder and butt and get up to make another attempt.

“Lilly,” my mother pleads, but I don't listen. This time, I feel the door give slightly when I throw my body against it. It gives me courage, and I'll try again.

My mother walks away when she hears Claire crying. Knowing that my mother would never hurt Claire, I ran towards the door for hopefully the last time. The door swings open, and I tumble forward down the stairs beyond. I land painfully on my hands. Groaning, I rise and move my wrists. My face contorts in pain. I no longer notice the pain when I look into the room and see Brent standing on the other side of the room. Or actually hanging.

He has a chain around his wrists that are attached to the ceiling and holds him up. His clothes are torn and stained with blood, his blood. Nothing can be done about his handsome face because it is completely swollen. His nose appears to be crooked, and his face is also covered in dried blood. I run to him, not realizing that it's weird that my dad isn't in the room. I gently take his face in my hands.

"I'm sorry," I say, crying. A groan comes straight from his mouth. I try in vain to pull off the chains around one of his wrists. My stomach turns when I see that they have already pulled off his nail. "I'm sorry." Is all I can say. My father will pay for this if it's the last thing I do. I don't know how yet. But he will pay for this.

Brent makes a gurgling, groaning sound. "It's going to be okay; I'll get you out of here," I say without looking at him. He tries to pull his arm away. The moment I want to tell him to stand still, I feel two strong arms around me.

"I'm sorry, sis," Alex whispers in my ear. FUCK! I try with all my might to free myself from my brother's grasp, but it is in vain. He's too strong. "Let me go!" I shout, kicking my legs wildly. He pulls me back, away from Brent. “I thought I taught you better.” I hear my father say. "Our family doesn't let itself get involved with monsters like him." His voice is full of envy.

"There's only one monster here! And it's you!" I say angrily. "Princes, you don't know what you're talking about. His kind... They must be exterminated." My father points the gun in his hands at Brent. "NO! NO! PLEASE!" I beg. But my father pretends not to hear my pleas. "No, please." I sob.

Alex drags me further back. When he reaches back with a hand, I make another attempt to wrench myself free.

I jump forward to get in front of Brent. At that moment, my father pulls the trigger.

His face looks terrified. Afraid he hit me instead of Brent. The bullet misses me by a hair and burrows into Brent's chest.

For a moment, I had the hope that my father had missed his heart. That hope is quickly dashed when I see the life disappear from his eyes.

"NO! NO! NO!" I cry and fall to my knees. "I hate you! I'll make you pay for this, just wait and see! You're going to pay!" I shout. Before I can shout anymore, Alex grabs me again. This time, he holds a cloth over my mouth.

No matter how hard I try, I can't free myself from his grasp. I look furiously at my father, who calmly walks up the stairs as if he had not just murdered his son-in-law. It doesn't take long before I start to feel dizzy. I know it's a matter of seconds before I lose consciousness. But not without a fight. With the last bit of strength I have, I throw my head back and hit Alex square in the nose. I smile with satisfaction when I hear it crack before everything goes black.

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