“I see. But you became friends with Abby.”
“I learned how to get around some of the rules. Where to go to get away from the cameras. Whom to trust. You had to in order to survive. In order not to completely fall apart.” Turning my head, I met her gaze. “To make sure they didn’t drum everything remotely real and human out of you. I refused to become one of their robotic zombies. I simply let them think I was.”
Her eyes shut, and when they blinked open, I saw the glimmer of fresh tears in them. I didn’t think as I leaned toward her and brushed them away this time. She let me touch her, which was enough—for now. I cleared my throat and continued.
“She arrived the way I did. Unconscious and drugged out of her mind. I saw her wandering the halls, confused, disoriented, and scared. Something about her reminded me of you. Maybe the light hair or the vulnerability I saw in her eyes. She was two years younger than me, and she didn’t deserve to be there any more than I did. I tried to show her the ropes. Where to eat, where things were, who to avoid, all those things.”
“Was everyone drugged?”
“No, some kids came willingly. I think given the choice of what they had at home compared to what this place offered, they took it. I always assumed their life before the institution was hell. They were the ones with a little more freedom.”
“I see. So, you became Abby’s protector.”
I lifted my shoulder, shifting on the cold ground. “I suppose. Keith, the one guy I trusted, had done the same for me. I was passing it on.” I drew up my knees, wrapping my hands around them. “Her chamber was right across from mine. She had nightmares at first, and she screamed. A lot.” I shut my eyes, remembering the screams.
Sunny’s hand folded over mine. “Oh, Linc.”
“Abby was a wild child. Her mother was a head case, and she got involved with a long list of men. Rich men. Sometimes they married her, sometimes not. Abby was ignored for the most part, sent away to boarding school, and only brought home on occasion.” I cleared my throat. “She, ah, started looking for affection in the wrong places. She got pregnant and had an abortion at fifteen.”
“She was desperate to be loved,” Sunny stated. I squeezed her hand, hearing the sympathy in her voice.
“The abortion was botched, and Abby got really ill. Septic. She ended up having emergency surgery and a full hysterectomy.”
“Oh god. That poor girl.”
“She was sent home—a fact that her mother wasn’t happy about. She had remarried for the fourth or fifth time, and she felt Abby was interfering with her life.”
“But it was her daughter,” Sunny protested.
“Like I said, her mother was a head case. Narcissistic. Self-absorbed.” I exhaled hard. “Abby’s latest stepfather was much the same. He was a real bastard, and he decided that Abby was part of the whole marriage deal. He tried to rape her.”
“No, no, no,” Sunny breathed out.
“She fought him off and told her mother. Her stepfather said she came on to him. She had scratched him when fighting him off, and he told her mother she attacked him when he said no. It got ugly. Abby said she was going to the police. Two days later, Abby woke up at the compound.”
I turned and faced Sunny. “She was still recovering from everything else that had happened to her when she arrived at Toblacove. She was lost, Sunny. Alone. She had no idea what it was like for someone to care about her. At least I’d had you. Your mom and your sisters. My mom when I was little. I knew what it was like to feel love. She only knew rejection and being invisible. We became friends. Eventually, she told me her story, after I had told her mine. She knew all about my life. My father. You.” I risked a glance at her. “I talked about you a lot. She knew our whole story and the fact that I was still in love with you. She listened. I understood her pain as well. Having a parent hate you. Blame you for everything. Deny you their love.” My voice became thick. “Dump you and forget about you. Pretend you didn’t exist.”
“Linc…” she murmured.
“I protected her the way I did you. She became my shadow. Everything I learned, I taught her. Things she understood that I couldn’t, she became my teacher. I taught her self-defense. Made sure she followed the rules. Kept her under the radar.” I poked at the fire with a long stick. “As my plans grew, I shared with her. All about the business I planned on concentrating on when I got out. My strategy to destroy my father. All the things I wanted to accomplish.”