Chapter 8

Only the two of us were left in the room.

Ethan Parker bent down and roughly pulled me into his arms.

I crashed against his chest, not having time to react before being pinned against the wall.

The cold marble pressed against my back as his restless hands undid the buttons on my top. The dim bathroom lighting was hazy and suggestive.

The chill crept in through my open collar, the cold wall steadily sapping the warmth from my back. The cold and fear gradually spread throughout my body.

Tears of physiological response welled up in my eyes, driven by instinctual terror.

That face so close to mine was both familiar and strange.

Only a small scar below his eye was new.

It was him.

Yet not him.

I was at a loss, only able to softly repeat that once most familiar name.

"Brother Ethan..."

The hands unbuttoning my clothes paused for a second. The man before me raised his hand to press against my lips, caressing them suggestively as his phoenix eyes looked up at me:

"Such a sweet voice, but you've got the wrong person."

"Call me Ethan and let me hear it."

His words were like a knife cutting through illusion and reality. I suddenly snapped out of it, shoving him hard as I desperately fought back. But my hand accidentally tore open the buttons on his shirt.

Large areas of scarring sprawled across his exposed skin, layers of overgrown scar tissue blooming like a flower below his heart.

A flower that had blossomed by consuming life.

I froze for a moment, my hand brushing against his arm, feeling tiny uneven needle marks under my fingertips.

I jerked my hand back as if burned.

It wasn't him.

"You're not him."

"You're not him."

"I don't know you."

"Get away from me!"

Tears suddenly fell.

"Figured it out "

The man's voice was lazy as he wiped away a tear from my face, the corner of his mouth curling in an amused smile.

He leaned in, his hot breath fanning across my neck and shoulder as his hand slid under the hem of my shirt to my waist, sending chills through my body.

"Too late."

The bathroom door was suddenly kicked open again. The man who burst in, face full of anger, pulled back his foot. That hand hovering at my waist froze.

"Ethan, what the fuck are you doing in such a rush !"

"Mr. Reed is looking for you guys, everyone's been missing for ages."

"You'll die if you don't get your rocks off for a bit "

I heard the fury in the newcomer's voice and instinctively shrank back.

The man took a step closer, his expression changing to a teasing grin when he saw my face:

"Not Sophia "

"I thought you said you weren't interested in young girls "

Ethan let go of me without another glance, buttoning up his own shirt as he joked back with the newcomer: "Can't let good meat go to waste when it's delivered to your door."

The man cursed crudely and Ethan laughed as he picked up the thread of conversation.

As the two were leaving, he suddenly turned back, pulling out a wad of cash and throwing it at me.

The bright red bills scattered in the air, floating down all around.

Like mockery.

Like derision.

The bathroom door slammed shut.

I collapsed to the ground, the dirty water soaking through my once-clean clothes, but I paid it no mind.

In that moment when hope was shattered, it felt like a tree being violently snapped in half, blood gushing from the broken stump.

Brutal.

And cruel.

I knelt on the ground, pathetically gathering up the bills that had fallen into puddles with trembling hands.

One by one.

Mumbling to myself.

He's not Ethan Parker.

He's not Ethan Parker.

As if trying to convince myself.

In the end they all fell to the floor again.

Scattered in a pile.

I finally broke down.

He wasn't Ethan Parker.

My Ethan Parker had gone missing a year ago.

Maybe,

He would never come back.