CHAPTER SIX

Brittney’s POV

The first thing I became aware of was the weight in my body.

It felt like I was sinking through something soft and endless. My eyelids were heavy, my thoughts were scattered, but beneath it all there was a sharp pulse of panic that refused to let me stay unconscious.

Then the memory returned.

The gunshot, My parents on their knees begging the devil. My mother screaming and the screen going black.

My eyes flew open.

I gasped and bolted upright so quickly that the room spun around me. My hands flew to my throat, expecting warmth, blood and pain. There was nothing. My skin was intact, smooth beneath my shaking fingers.

I was in a bed, A large one at that

The faint scent of antiseptic and something expensive and clean filled the air.

My chest tightened violently. For a moment I could not breathe. The door clicked softly behind me.

I turned sharply.

Lucas stood near the window, his posture relaxed, his expression unreadable. Morning light framed him from behind, outlining his broad shoulders and casting half his face in shadow.

Rage rushed through me so fast it burned away the weakness.

“Where are they?” I demanded.

My voice came out rough, but strong. He did not answer immediately.

That silence nearly shattered me.

“Where are my parents?” I shouted.

“They’re alive,” he said at last.

The air rushed back into my lungs so fast it hurt but my relief quickly twisted into fury.

“You humiliated them,” I said, my voice trembling now for a different reason. “You forced them to kneel. You made them beg.”

He watched me carefully, as if studying my reaction.

“I didn’t touch them,” he replied calmly.

“You don’t have to,” I snapped. “You terrorized them.”

I reached for the glass on the bedside table without thinking and hurled it at him. It struck the wall behind his shoulder and shattered loudly. The water splashed across the floor.

He did not even flinch.

The control in his stillness made my anger sharper.

I pushed myself off the bed and stumbled toward him. My legs were weak, but I didn’t care.

“You are sick,” I said, shoving him with both hands. “You say you want justice, but you torture people who can’t defend themselves.”

He caught my wrists before I could strike him again. His grip was firm but not painful.

“Calm down,” he said.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” I struggled against him, but he held me firmly.

I wanted him to react, to lose control. To prove he was the monster I already knew he was.

Instead, he released me.

I staggered back a step, breathing hard.

“Did you hurt them?” I asked again, forcing my voice to steady.

“No.”

I searched his face for deception. I did not trust him, not after everything he had done. Not after he aimed a gun at my head.

“They were alive when you fainted,” he continued. “Terrified but alive.”

I swallowed back the invisible lump in my throat. My knees felt weak, but I refused to sit.

“They are innocent,” I said firmly. “Whatever story you’ve created about them is wrong.”

His expression shifted slightly, but his voice remained even. “If they cared for you the way you think they do, they would have come for you.”

“They didn’t know where I was,” I shot back instantly.

“They did.”

The certainty in his tone made something flicker in my chest, but I crushed it immediately.

“That’s a lie,” I said. “You’re trying to turn me against them.”

“They knew who took you.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re manipulating me. That’s what this is. You isolate me, scare me, then plant doubt just for me to believe a monster like you.”

He stepped closer to me, just close enough that I could see the faint scar near his jaw and the cold steadiness in his eyes.

“You think I’m the villain,” he said quietly.

“You are,” I replied.

He studied me for a long moment. “Your world wasn’t as clean as you believe.”

“My parents are farmers,” I said, my voice growing stronger with each word. “They work the land just to survive. They struggle hard for me. They supported me and my husband before he died.”

“And yet,” he said softly, “they knew exactly who I was.”

I felt anger surge again.

“They were scared,” I insisted. “You threatened their daughter. Of course they reacted to that.”

“You don’t find it strange?” he pressed. “No police, no public search. No noise about your disappearance.”

“They were protecting me!” I said sharply. “Not everyone runs to the police when criminals are involved. Some people are smart enough to stay quiet.”

He watched me as though waiting for something to crack.

“You want me alone,” I said. “That’s your strategy. You want me to believe I have no one so I depend on you.”

Silence filled the space between us.

“You already don’t,” he said at last.

The words were meant to wound but they didn’t or maybe they did, but I refused to show it.

“I will never depend on you,” I said . “Not for protection, not for truth.”

“You should rest,” he said. “You’ll need your strength.”

“For what?” I demanded.

But he was already turning toward the door.

“Lucas.”

He paused but did not look back.

“If you ever threaten them again,” I said, “I won't forgive you."

I was so scared after saying the word because I meant none of it.

A faint, unreadable expression crossed his face before it disappeared.

Then he left.

I stood there for a long time, replaying everything in my mind.

He was definitely lying. He had to be.

My parents were not killers. They were not powerful. They were not part of whatever dark world he came from.

They were simple people who loved me.

He wanted revenge. That was all this was. He needed someone to blame, and I was the easiest target.

I slowly sat back on the edge of the bed, pressing my palms against my knees to steady the trembling in my hands.

He thought he could break me by breaking my trust.

He thought doubt would grow if he watered it enough.

He was wrong.

I might be trapped. I might be afraid but I knew my family.

And no matter what Lucas said, I would not let him rewrite my reality.

If I was going to survive this place, I needed one thing to remain unshaken.

My belief in them and I would hold onto it until the very end.