Thrive (23 page)

I had already lost the battle. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, the goosebumps on my skin rose and burned like thousands of searing needles; I closed my eyes and enjoyed the pain, just for a second, as the physical collided with the mental.

I couldn’t let him break me. When Phil crossed the room and sat down, temporarily distracted, I doubled over and focused on the pain. All of it.

The nights I went to bed without my mother’s story. The days I spent curled in the corner of the room because I wanted my mother and father. I wanted to feel them, to hear them, to smell them; I wanted them to make me feel safe. I thought about the times I’d gone to school in shoes with holes in them, or clothes that didn’t fit, because Uncle Phil wouldn’t let Lois buy me new ones until I’d been bullied enough in the old ones. I thought about my craving for love and acceptance, why it had been so easy to give in to Charlie and her demands for me to prove myself. I thought about Skye – how I hurt her,
why
I hurt her; and the man who gave me the ability to hurt the ones I loved by behaving like a machine, with no respect for the people around me.

Uncle Phil.

“Look at them, Curtis,” Phil instructed and, like the pet I was, I looked into each of the three pairs of eyes. “Look at them and know you failed them all.”

The defeat washed over me and took my life with it, tearing from my lungs as the final breath of a fighter. I bowed my head and willingly stepped into Phil’s trap. I gave up Cut Throat Curtis and succumbed to the frightened seven-year-old boy Phil controlled.

~Curtis~

Phillip sat on his throne that was my desk chair, in the centre of my replicated childhood bedroom, accompanied by his three pets in the form of Tiffany, Lois…and my mother.

All three of them were kneeling on the floor, dressed in white nightgowns. All three of them had their hair pulled back in tight ponytails.

And all three of them had their eyes fixed on me. The empty desperation, the subconscious cry for help broke my heart.

“Where’s Curtis?” I asked, refusing to look at the three women in front of me who desperately needed saving.

“I’m here,” he said, stepping out next to me and stealing my breath as the agony that dominated him suddenly enveloped me.

I gripped his hand with both of mine, digging my nails in as he did the same. We needed the darkness; the pain that radiated from him and matched my fear was unbearable. The culmination of evil in this room was enough to floor us both.

“What choice, Phillip?”

“It’s quite simple, really.” He stood up and placed his hand gently on Tiffany’s head. She bowed, dropping her gaze to the floor. He did the same with Lois and my mother. He was toying with all of us, showing us he was in control and displaying just how much power he had. “Who goes first?”

“You’ll let them go?” I asked as a flicker of hope fluttered in my stomach.

“Who dies first.” Curtis answered for him, as Phillip toyed with his gun, twisting it in his hand so it caught the light.

I turned my head to face Curtis, but he was gone. The man who had emerged from the dark place he’d lived in for too long, to step into the light with me; my animal, who had begun to tame himself for me whilst freeing me from the leash that had held back my hunger for revenge, was no more. He’d switched off, prepared to make a choice.

I knew he was thinking it through – he was going to make a choice.

“What are you thinking, boy?” Phillip asked.

“I’m thinking you’re a sick fuck,” Curtis spat, his voice restrained. He was trying. My animal was trying to stay with me.

“Now, now. Less of the aggression.” Phillip waved the gun casually, like you would wag your finger at a child. He took hold of Tiffany’s ponytail and gave it a tug. “Let’s go through your options, shall we?”

He pulled her hair harder, raising her head until her eyes rose from the floor and fixed on Curtis.

“There’s Tiffany,” Phillip continued. “I suspect she’ll be your first victim, but you feel something for her, don’t you?”

I saw Curtis shake his head out of the corner of my eye. “No, I don’t.”

“No? You don’t want to know what made her so vulnerable? You don’t want to know what broke her to the point where she had to rely on me?”

“No.”

“So Tiffany goes first?” He pressed the gun to her temple and his index finger slid over the trigger.

“No!”

Curtis threw his arms out, reaching towards her without taking a step.

“Ah, so he does feel something.” Phillip laughed and Curtis dropped his arms, trembling with fear. Phillip was breaking him and I was being forced to watch. He turned to me. “How does that feel, Skye?”

I shrugged it off. “He’s human. Which is more than can be said for you.”

“Hmm,” he mused, moving closer to my mother. “And what does that make you? Assuming you remember it’s my blood running through your veins.”

I folded my arms, keeping my eyes on him and not my mother as he tipped her head back and forced her to look at me.

“Are you going to explain this or continue to show us what your robots can do?”

He smiled. I forced a smile in return.

“Don’t you want to look at the woman who abandoned you? Don’t you want to look at my wife? Don’t you want to look at the woman your mother has become?”

I shook my head and pushed any and every emotion aside as I responded, “That’s not my mother. I’ll look at her when you give her back.”

I glanced at Curtis; he had his head bowed and his arms by his sides. I expected his hands to be curled up into tight fists, but they weren’t. What had Phillip done to frighten all traces of fight out of him?

“Assuming I will.”

“You will.”

His laugh echoed around the room and brought goosebumps to the surface of my skin. A shiver rippled along my spine and brought a retch to settle at the back of my throat, a lump I couldn’t swallow.

“Right.” He looked from me to Curtis; from Curtis to me. “I didn’t realise you were the one with the power in this coupling. I’m impressed, Sunshine.”

“I know you’ve done something to him. You control him too, don’t you?”

I tried to reach for Curtis, but he stepped away from me.

“We should even things out,” Phillip said, his eyes widening in excitement. I glared at him, but said nothing. “Curtis, come and play with us. Come and join the ladies.”

I gasped and threw myself in front of Curtis, gripping his arms and praying the force of my grip would jumpstart him.

“Don’t do it, baby,” I said, searching his eyes for signs of the warrior who had stepped through the front door. “Stay with me. We have to do this together. We have to be strong.”

He stared back expressionless, emotionless, and blinked just once.

“Get her out of the way, Curtis.”

He let out a controlled breath and swiped his arm out, shoving me to the side.

“Curtis,” I begged, pleading with him not to succumb.

“Curtis,” Phillip clipped, pointing to a spot on the carpet next to Lois, whose beautiful sparkling eyes were hidden, her wayward fiery hair tamed; everything that made her who she was had been stripped from her.

Curtis took one step forward, shaking me off when I grabbed his arm to stop him. Phillip had already stolen him from me and there was nothing I could do. He stood in his allocated spot and waited until Phillip clicked his fingers. He dropped to his knees, held his hands behind his back and stared straight ahead with his eyes on the zip of my jacket.

“There,” Phillip said, sitting back on the chair, flanked by four mind-controlled people who were now relying on me to save them. “Even numbers and order help calm us, don’t they, Skye? Please,” his empty hand gestured towards me, “continue with your questions.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” He raised an eyebrow. How many explanations could there be?

“Why manipulate people? Why not just fall in love and live a happy, honest life? Why…” My lip trembled and I took a steadying breath. “Why Oliver?” Why Tiffany, Lois and Mum? Why Curtis?”

He shrugged as if uninterested and bored by my questions.

“Because I can. Do I need a reason other than that?”

I nodded.

“Fine.” He sighed. “But only because it’s you, Sunshine, and it’s your turn to step up and continue my work.”

“What are you talking about?”

“As a boy, I always wondered why my mother would behave like one person one day and another the next.” His eyes glassed over as he reminisced and I risked a look at Curtis. He was looking at me now, the shadows over his eyes filling me dread. “She liked Ella Fitzgerald and on good days she would sing her songs until her throat was sore. On bad days, she would kneel in the corner of the room from sun up to sun down.”

“Grandma?” I asked, praying I would find out my father had been adopted by the woman who used to bake with the three of us and sing wartime songs.

“Yes, Grandma.”

I released a silent sob as the image I had of my grandmother was slashed and everything I remembered about her from when I was a child was ripped away from me.

“Why?” I asked, swiping away the unwelcome tears. I wouldn’t let him see me cry.

“I used to ask myself the same question.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the gun dangling between his legs. “You see, Skye, humans are just animals. We can't survive without order. We’re predators, warriors and kings. We can't thrive unless we’re at the top of the hierarchy.”

“So what? Grandpa told you you’re a lion in a human body?” He stared at me silently, but I saw the answer sparkling in his golden eyes. “You know that’s bullshit. We’re
humans
because of our
humanity
. We can empathise, rationalise and reason.”

“That’s what I told Grandpa, but he helped me see the truth.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“God damn it!” He slammed his hands on the armrests and stood. I flinched and backed away, looking at Curtis for the reassurance that he would protect me. He didn’t move. “You have to understand!”

I swallowed hard and shivered. Phillip stopped in front of me and grabbed my face. I tried to pull away, but his fingertips dug into my cheeks and held me still.

“Oliver had to die. He was supposed to take over, but he had to go. I gave him a job, I told him he could run the empire with me. I told him we’d rule the world together.” He licked his lips, his eyes widening, his body trembling. “He just wouldn’t listen to me. Grandpa said I’d have trouble controlling twins. Oliver was going to tell everyone and I couldn’t let that happen.”

“So you
killed
him?” He nodded with pride. “You’re crazy.”

“Not crazy,” he murmured, more to himself than me, and shook his head. “
Not crazy, not crazy…
”

He composed himself slowly and a flash of humour set his eyes ablaze before he continued, “Animals kill their young every day. It’s all about survival, Skye, you know that. I had to protect myself.”

“And Mum?”

“She was my first. Grandpa taught me how to control her, how to dress her in the armour that would keep
me
safe.”

“From what?”

“From everything. People thought I was crazy. Bipolar, they call it. Manic depressive. They thought shocking me would help. Electrotherapy should have
cured
me, they said. But it made me crazy. I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy…” he repeated the words over and over again, to convince me or comfort himself, I wasn’t sure. I stood still, afraid of more revelations. I didn’t think I could take any more. “People don't understand.
You
don’t understand.” One hand tore into his hair. The other pressed the handle of the gun to his forehead. “You have to understand.”

“It’s okay,” I said, keeping my voice distant but trying to force comfort. “I get it.”

I knew he was at breaking point. I was no psychologist, but I read the signs; my father was about to snap, on the verge of a psychotic break, and it put all of our lives in danger.

“Teach me,” I said, reaching for the gun. “Teach me how to do it.”

Phillip backed away, cradling the weapon against his chest.

“Choose,” he mumbled, searching my eyes for treachery. I forced a stare of alliance back at him. “Choose.”

“Is there another way?”

“No.” He tapped his chin and smiled, relieved he had me on side. “Emotions. I understand. You are human, after all.” He took another step back. “But not for long.”

He grabbed Tiffany’s ponytail and threw her into the middle of the room. She made no sound, she didn’t put up a fight; she stayed in the position she landed in, until he tapped the top of her head and she resumed the position on her knees with her head bowed.

“Now, Tiffany goes first because you have no care for her.”

I knew by process of elimination that Lois would be next. I glanced at her; she was looking at me, void of recognition, but full of fear she didn’t know she had. I couldn’t hurt her. I wouldn’t.