To Capture a Thorn (The Society 2)

“No, I don’t expect you to feel better. What you need to understand is everything we do is for a reason. Look at the bigger picture.”

“The bigger picture? That girl is going to end up in the care system and we all know how wonderful that is.”

My dad shook his head. “She won’t be going to the care system. Her life is already being taken care of. She will never know another ounce of pain or fear or shame again. You helped to save her, William.”

He put his hand on my shoulder, and I wanted to shrug it off. “Is that what you say to make what you do better?” I asked.

“I look at the bigger picture. People do bad things all the time. We’re helping a few along the way.”

“And the ones who end up dead and are completely innocent?” I asked.

“Give it time, and you’ll be able to justify everything in your head.” My dad turned away from me and began to walk away.

“Why me?” I asked. “Why did they pick me of all people for this?”

“Because out of everyone, you will see the logic in what you’ve done. You’ll be able to fall asleep knowing there is one less monster on the streets.”

It wasn’t a consolation. I had to touch Sian with these hands.

I pictured the little girl. The bruises covering her body. The quivering lip. The fear. That bastard had done those things to her and no one could do anything about it.

Had I helped?

I guessed I would never know. I only hoped I had.

I guessed this meant I was now a member of The Society, to live, to serve, to breathe for them.

Chapter Sixteen

Sian

My mother was a strong woman, that I could tell. She bossed around the nurses, hating when they tried to baby her. Especially when Lucas, George, Harrison, and Justin also tried to get involved and tell her how to recover. In the months I’d been living with them, I had never seen them put in their place. Joan was a real pro at it.

For the past week, I’d been coming and going, spending as much time as I could at the hospital to be close to her.

I wanted her to feel happy, warm, contended.

So far, Alexander hadn’t shown his face, nor had anyone spotted him. The video of him beating up Heather was still circling the news, with calls for anyone who has seen him to come forward.

The bruises were already starting to fade from my mother’s face and body as I sat down late one Friday evening. The doctors didn’t want her to go home. I thought that was a lie. I didn’t think my guys’ dads wanted her to leave without being properly assessed after spending nearly a lifetime on some kind of sedative or drug.

She had taken a shower and her hair was a little damp.

With her good hand, she struggled to run a brush through the long locks, and so I offered.

“I’m the one who is supposed to be brushing your hair. Like everything else, I seem to be fucking up everything.”

I chuckled. “You’re not fucking up everything.”

“I am. You’re just too kind to tell me when I am or not.”

This made me smile. “You need to stop worrying.”

“It’s kind of hard to do. My nineteen-year-old daughter is all grown up and looking so very beautiful. While I look like I should be institutionalized.”

I didn’t say anything and I was careful as I ran the brush through her hair. “How were you able to drive me that day?” I asked.

“What?”

“The first day of school. You were more lucid than before. You drove me to school.”

Joan sighed. “The … he hadn’t given me a dose of the drugs that day. The days I was more lucid, he either gave me a smaller dose, or forgot.”

This made me frown as I brushed her hair.

“I’m confusing you because when I didn’t have any of the drugs, I acted like a crazy person, like sending you a cell phone to talk to you.”

“Yeah, like that.”

She didn’t talk as I ran the brush through her hair. Then she put her hand on her head, getting me to stop.

I went to move toward the seat in the corner, but she grabbed my arm, stopping me. “Don’t … go,” she said.

“I’m only going to sit there.”

Joan patted the bed. “Please.”

I perched on the edge and she sighed. “You don’t believe me.”

“I don’t know what to believe,” I said. “I don’t know how you could drive and yet, you couldn’t stop everything then and there.”

Joan nibbled on her lip. “Sometimes he knew when he hadn’t given me the drugs and you have to understand he was so controlling and I was so alone. I begged him on one of the days that I … he was having an affair, as you know, with your school friend Chloe. He forgot to feed me those pills, and you were due to go to All Saints.”