Page 72 of His Toy

CHAPTER 19

Zaid

I asked myself the same question, over and over again: Was it better to be feared, or to be loved? Eric ruled in fear. His followers, even his guards, were terrified of what he could do, what hewoulddo, should they fail. Zayda was that way. She swore it was love, put on a face so that I would not fear him too, but when Eric walked into the room, she clutched me close to her side.

The wind was biting here. I never felt right in this quiet town, even next to her gravesite. Pahrump was sleepy compared to its neighboring city. My mother had worked here in one of the brothels here, when Eric found her.

He saved me, Van, she had said.We should be grateful.

Saved her. Loved her. Raped her. Tortured her. Killed her.

Leaning on the tombstone, I ran my fingers over the cold granite, and heartache ricocheted through me. I hadn’t seen my mother in the flesh in years. I thought of her every single day, obsessed over how to make it right for her. I couldn’t go back in time, I couldn’t bring her back to life, but I could avenge her. I could make it so that no person ever dealt with Eric’s cruelty again. But was that enough?

I rarely visited. What kind of son was I?

Heather was right. I should visit more. Heather was right about many things. And now she was gone.

It was better this way. Wasn’t it?

With Heather, I had started with fear, but I had chosen love. Getting to know her made me want something else. Killing Eric never left my mind, but it was different with Heather. I wanted to give her safety, a home, a place where she could feel secure, where she could feel love. A place with me.

I kept trying to tell myself it was better this way, but it was a lie. It wasn’t better this way. I had to trust Grant to protect her. I had to trust Heather to protect herself.

Trust was at the heart of love. Not fear.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. “Yes?” I said.

“We should be there by the evening,” Grant said.

“You’ve gotten the new identities handled?”

“Not yet, sir. The location is closer to the clinic.”

If I could go back in time, that is what I would have given my mother and me. A chance at a new life, to start over again. But it was hard to say what would have happened. In my mind, my mother would have taken the opportunity, seized it, been grateful. But in reality, there was a chance that fear would have wrapped its twisted fingers around her heart, strangling her until she knew she had to return. She could never trust Eric to let her go.

Could I let Heather go? It was the best decision for her, wasn’t it?

“Give her distance if she needs it,” I said to Grant. “Heather can handle herself. But her sister may have a harder time. Watch Hazel closely.”

“Yes, sir. And if Heather sees me, sir?”

I imagined Heather looking out of the window of a taxi, those blue-green eyes shimmering as her vision latched onto every passing car, the hatred in her eyes when she saw Grant, when she realized I had sent someone to follow her. Her hatred for me.

Fear won every time. There was a benefit to the way Eric had lived.

“I don’t care if she sees you, as long as they’re both safe. If Heather insists on solitude, follow her at a distance. With Hazel, do not take no for an answer.”

“Yes, sir,” Grant said. I hung up.

I touched the tombstone one last time. “I’ll make it right,” I said. It was as much to my mother, as it was to me. And to Heather.

Driving back to the mountain was a blur. Auto-pilot took over the motions. The desert landscape was a seamless existence, pulling me in like quicksand, then shoving me into the harsh reality. Eric still lived. But at least Heather was still alive.

My design seemed fruitless now. Even if the world was better without him, I would still be there. One monster replaced with another.

Donna was in the kitchen, preparing a vegetable stew for the prisoners. She squeaked in surprise when I opened the door, but her jaw dropped when she saw me.

“You look terrible,” she said. “Have you slept at all? What’s happened, Zaid?”