Page 44 of The Gilded Cuff
A brush of fingertips, the reflection of agony and pain in his brother’s eyes, and then they were ripped away from each other and stolen from their home.
They left behind their last refuge, their world of adventure. Emery’s eyes blurred with tears as he fought for one last look behind him. The green glass from the bottles glinted and sparked in the waning light like emerald gemstones sprinkled with ruby drops of blood.
***
Emery’s lashes opened slowly. He had the strangest sense he’d awakened from a dream, rather than having just confessed the secret horror he’d suffered for the last twenty-five years. His gaze sought Sophie’s. Her chin rested on his chest, and large, diamond-sized tears hung precariously on the tips of her lashes. She blinked rapidly, cleared her throat, and spoke. Only a tiny waver betrayed the emotion she seemed desperate to hide.
“What did the men look like?”
“Two of them looked average. White men with brown hair and brown eyes. Could have been brothers. The third man…He was huge, or at least he seemed that way to a couple of eight-year-olds. He had dark hair with a hooked nose and black eyes. He had an accent. I couldn’t place it then, but now I know it was Italian. His name was Antonio. I never caught his last name, but I heard the others call him that when they thought Fenn and I were asleep.”
Emery closed his eyes. He concentrated at first on Sophie. She felt good on top of him. The air was thick with the mix of her natural scent and the shampoo from her hair. But he had to let it go. Had to focus on the memories.
“Where did they take you? Do you know?”
“One of the crumbling mansions about eight miles from here. It was abandoned, condemned. No one would look there for us, or have a chance of seeing us.”
“Tell me about the place they kept you.”
He summoned the memory and spoke aloud as it unfolded.
The walls were empty shells, the paint peeling and faded with the barest hint of color left. Trees grew between the cracks in the marble floors, the force of nature challenging the man-made structure. Ivy snaked up the crumbling banister of the stairs. Much of the second floor had been obliterated by the elements after so many years. Even as terror clamped vicious claws around his heart, Emery mourned the loss of the grandeur. It was like finding one of his favorite toys broken, knowing it could never be fixed, and the games he’d loved to play were forever ended.
The thick scent of rotted wood and decay filled his nostrils, the pungent combination further tainted by the smell of Fenn’s blood as their captors dragged them to a door beneath the stairs.
“Should we put them in here, Antonio?” One man asked the dark-haired leader.
“Yes. Throw them inside,” Antonio barked.
Emery and Fenn stumbled into the darkness and the door slammed shut behind them, a lock clicking into place. He immediately felt around until he bumped into Fenn, who sat on the floor.
“You hurt?” he whispered.
“My arm hurts a little.” Fenn lifted his arm in the dim light and Emery saw a streak of blood beneath the torn shirt.
Both boys were quiet for a long while. A single shaft of muted light slid through the crack by the door.
“I’m scared, Fenn,” Emery whispered, a shiver slithering the length of his spine.
“Me too.”
“Do you think Mom and Dad will look for us?” Emery wanted to believe their parents would search for them. He prayed they wouldn’t think he and Fenn had run away. If Nana was alive, she could tell them what had happened. If she was alive…
“They’ll look. I know they will,” Fenn said calmly, but Emery could feel his brother shaking next to him.
Emery forced his eyes open. The library ceiling was awash with an artist’s rendering of Mount Olympus and the Gods and Goddesses. It was such a contrast to the confined darkness he and Fenn had lived in during their captivity.
Funny. He’d rarely looked at this mural over the years. It was only now, lying here with Sophie, that he noticed the painted heavens.
“You must have been so scared.” Sophie shifted her head, bumping his chin. Her arms tightened around his chest.
Scared? He’d been petrified. Terrified out of his mind. Thanks to that damned closet he became unhinged at the thought of being in an enclosed space, couldn’t sleep in any room with closed doors where there weren’t light switches within easy reach of his bed.
“They kept us in the closet for the first two weeks.”
Sophie gasped and raised her head. “They never let you out in all that time?”
“They did. Separately. Just to go to the bathroom and to wash with cold water from a bucket. We only ever had a few minutes.”
