Hers To Keep (Servite Academy #2)

Chapter 30

Chapter

Thirty

SCARLETT

M axwell Smoak is my father.

My mind is reeling, on the border of collapsing at the revelation. I can’t fathom the thought of it being true, let alone say it out loud. Because if it’s true, this changes everything. If it’s true, then this means these devils around me are even more destructive than I ever imagined possible. If it’s true, this means that the evil inside of me is even more powerful. It’s in my DNA, twice.

Their tainted and tarnished blood runs through my veins, bleeds from my wounds, and saturates every inch of my being. Because my mother is a monster, and although I never met my father, he’s part of this world, which can only mean he’s just like them. Or worse.

I stand frozen in place, my hearing distorted, my vision obscured by puddled tears, my mind besieged as my body goes completely numb. I mean how else is one to react to such a revelation .

After years of thinking I’d never know who he was, after years of coming to accept he was most likely dead or somewhere overdosing on some kind of illegal drug, the bomb they drop on me is like nothing I’d have ever imagined hearing.

The endless time warp comes to a halt as my feet drag behind me following Wesley and my mother toward a closed door, leading to a back room on the property. Once again, I’m terrified of what, or who, I’ll find standing on the other side.

My heart pounds fiercely in my chest, my eyes burn intensely, tears now incessantly flowing out with no end in sight, as Wesley Servite opens the door leading me into the luminous room. I close my eyes as I enter, petrified off what’s before me.

Every time I think I know what to expect, that there is nothing left that can surprise me, another revelation comes to light, another secret exposed, and another lie told. There’s no knowing what’s in store when it comes to these two. There’s nothing they wouldn’t be capable of doing.

I inhale a deep breath that burns as I exhale out preparing myself for whatever I may find as I slowly open my eyes taking in the scene before me.

Just like I’d feared, it’s what I never expected, yet the only thing that makes sense.

It’s him.

The man I briefly met the night I accompanied Ace and Carrington to The Calypsos in the basement of Torment Nightclub. The man who stood beside my mother, sits before me tied to a chair in the corner of the incandescent, storage-like room. His head hangs low, his eyes looking down at the floor beneath his feet, while his body shifts slightly as he hears us enter. At least that proves he’s alive.

An unwelcome ache rushes through me, as my father, my blood, sits in such a compromising position put there by none other than my demonic mother.

Maxwell Smoak. My father .

That he's alive and here before me is suffocating. My body finally gives out on me as I heave forward, throwing up the fluid remnants of my empty stomach that have been threatening to expel for days before the spotless marble floor. No one runs to my rescue. Not a soul comes to help me up, to hold my hair back. My body convulses violently as the bile that’s been harnessed within me since I first arrived here continues to erupt from inside of me. I puke continuously, through my mouth, out my nose, the vomit burning my nostrils as I practically hyperventilate before them.

Yet still no one comes to my rescue, no one bothers to help me. Then again, who would? Not my mother who walks past me disgusted, her heels stepping over my vomit as she heads over to Maxwell. Not Wesley who smugly hands me a towel he’s pulled out from who knows where, though I blatantly refuse to take anything from him.

Instead, I wipe my mouth on the sleeve of my hoodie, straightening up now that I have nothing left in me to release. My body is exhausted, my mind drained, my soul broken into a million pieces scattered over the floor at their feet.

They have him tied up like a criminal, like an animal, just like they had Drake. I guess in Wesley’s eyes he is, since he fears he’s the one who’s blackmailing him. To him, keeping him like this seems fitting, and who knows, maybe he is. It’s not like I know anything about him to use in his defense.

However, for some odd reason, call it intuition, I don’t think Maxwell Smoak is at fault here. I mean, I don’t understand what my father would get out of blackmailing him.

I recall that night, recently when I met him. The way he watched me was disconcerting. I felt he was awkwardly checking me out, just like all the other sick and perverted men I’ve met thus far, but what if in reality he’d recognized me? What if he suspected I was his daughter?

I mean the idea isn’t so farfetched. My resemblance to my mother, I’m told, is quite clear. It’s obvious to anyone who knows us we’re related, so he must have figured it out.

What if he didn’t know? Or what if he did, and this whole time he’s wanted nothing to do with me?

I’m not sure which answer is better. Maxwell obviously didn’t love my mother if she had to drug him and trick him into sleeping with her. He understandably wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with her child.

“Oh, Maxwell, my old friend. It’s so good to see you again,” Wesley says, interrupting my thoughts, the sarcasm seeping like poisoned honey in his voice. “I must admit you look good, being away from this town has surely done you well.”

“Wesley, ever the cynical prick I see. What the fuck do you want from me now, Servite?” Maxwell lifts his head to speak, his eyes for the first time connecting with mine as I stand not ten feet away from him. His blue eyes, my blue eyes, stare meticulously at me, a look of disappointment crossing them as he lowers his head, shaking it silently. I can’t help feeling a stab of dissatisfaction from his actions. “What is she doing here?” he mutters sullenly, and the disdain in his voice is like a knife brutally dug into my already bleeding wound.

“Don’t be so rude to your baby girl, Maxwell, after all it’s her birthday today,” my mother snickers, standing before him and unnervingly tracing her finger over his cheek.

He pulls away flinching disgustingly at her touch, as his eyes once again move to look at me. They widen as he takes in the sight of me, which must be horrifying as I stand here with vomit all over me, my eyes swollen from the tears they’ve expelled, but his eyes sorrowfully look away as he laughs ominously. Not the reaction I was expecting, but I guess I was never expecting this to happen.

“My daughter, you mean the daughter you so selfishly conceived by drugging me and coercing me to fuck you, when I’d rather have choked you to death, Lilith, you selfish bitch!” he shouts, as my mother slaps him harshly across the face. He laughs even harder now, blood dripping from his lips cut by my mother’s ring. Okay, this is so much worse than what could have happened.

I must admit, at least once or twice when I was younger and innocent, I thought about what it would be like to one day meet my father. I’d run to him, and he’d lift me into his arms, twirling me around as he smiled contently at me. Then we’d play at the park, maybe go to get some ice cream walking hand in hand.

After years that foolish, childish dream turned into nothing more than a fading hope, but even after all these years, I never could have been prepared for what it truly feels like to see my father. How he watches my mother with such intense hatred and looks at me with irrevocable guilt.

It’s how I know for a fact there’s still so much I don’t know. Like always, I’m the last to know anything about my life. “There’s more to the story, isn’t there,” I mutter, creeping closer to them, dragging my feet yet somehow finding the strength to not collapse before them.

Suddenly, a door slams in the distance, echoing through the room as Ace emerges rushing through the door of the room we’re now in. He stops in his tracks, taking in the sight before him, and what a sight it must be. Looking between his uncle and me, then toward my mother and Maxwell, then back again at me, shock flashes across his eyes. Ace is stunned to see us all here, but not surprised.

As if he knew, and for once in his life, he makes a choice of his own conviction as he rushes toward me, engulfing me in a tight embrace, my body involuntarily weakening and collapsing into his arms.

Sobs erupt from deep inside me, the fight in me no longer able to hold them back as I weep uncontrollably in his arms. The burning fire in me dying down to nothing more than a windless flame.

Because contrary to what should be, Ace is my haven. Although, until now he’s been as much of a threat to my demise, amongst these devils in this room with me, he’s the lesser of evils, and I can’t help what I feel.

I can feel his heartbeat against my cheek, moving in rhythm with my violent sobs and heavy breathing. “What have you done to her!?” he shouts, directing his anger at the adults in the room who watch us with contempt.

“Oh, let her go, she’s always so overly dramatic,” my mother says, causing me to glare angrily in her direction. It continues to baffle me how much more hateful and psychotic she is than I ever imagined. “She’s absolutely fine, acting like finding out her father is alive and well is a tragedy.” I feel Ace’s body go rigid against me at the revelation from my mother.

“Father,” Ace whispers, beside me, and in that moment I really wish this is one secret he couldn’t have possibly kept from me.

“Yes, it’s all amazing, we get it,” my mother mocks, moving over to the left side of the room where two chairs sit against the wall.

“Did you know?” I whisper up at Ace, silently praying to whoever answers prayers he didn’t keep this from me. I don’t think I can handle any more lies, take any more betrayals from him without falling apart completely.

He shakes his head, a wave of relief coming over me. “I found it odd that he was back in town, and when I saw him with her, it may have crossed my mind. Knowing your mother has been here before, it didn’t seem unlikely she’d known him. I swear to you I didn’t know for sure,” he places his hand on my chin, lifting my face to meet his. “I would never have kept this from you if I had known, Scarlett. I promise you that.” I nod accepting his answer as I turn back to the demons lingering in front us.

“Why bring him here, why bring me here? What is it you want from me?” I ask, not sure I want an answer, yet hoping once and for all things make sense.

“Maxwell swears he isn’t the one blackmailing me, that he has only come back to town because his niece reached out to him. He insists he’s just here for a family reunion, so I thought I’d give him one of my own, you know I’m a giver,” Wesley sneers, displaying one of his infamous grins. It’s almost comical how this day has gone down. Either that or completely depressing, and I’d rather laugh than fall apart before him again.

I give him a devious grin of my own as I step forward, Ace following my movement with a step of his own. “You’re the devil. You give and give, only to take back so much more.” Now it’s him who moves forward, pulling a pocketknife out of his pocket, and bringing it to rest flatly against my chin as he closes the space between us. Ace’s grip on my arm tightens, but he doesn’t dare pull me back afraid of what his uncle might do if he tries.

His breathing turns jagged beside me as I feel him protectively moving closer to me, his chest now flat against my back. I swear I can feel the muscles in his torso tightening in anger as he watches his uncle. “Don’t you fucking dare hurt her,” Ace whispers coarsely, his body shaking furiously with each syllable he speaks.

Now it’s my heart that starts thumping forcefully in my chest, but not because of fear. It’s anger, an indescribable and profoundly rooted fury.

Instead of screaming, or cursing him at the top of my lungs, I laugh, smiling widely as he slides the cold steel blade across my chin.

“So in typical Servite style you thought you’d threaten me and see if he cared what was to happen to me,” I say, mocking his pathetic and obvious attempt.

Wesley grins, admiring the way I see right through everything he does. I’ve learned to read him and decipher his threats. They’re meant more to show he has control, than physically harm me. He enjoys the thrill of the fear he instills in me, but never once has he laid a hand on me or put my life in danger. Yet I can’t figure out why I constantly give in. I guess it just makes things easier than fighting back.

Slowly, he brings his free hand up to caress my cheek, his stiff fingers tracing along my cheekbones, while his thumb slides across my bottom lip. “You are just full of surprises aren’t you, sweetheart? If only you’d learn to behave, you and I could do so much together. You think just like me, nothing I do shocks you.” He grips my chin bringing my face up to meet his gaze, the knife digging further into my sensitive skin. “You want to know why? Because you see between the lines, you’re observant and clever.”

“And it’s because of that, I can assure you he won’t stop you.” I look toward Maxwell still tied to the chair watching us with impassive eyes. “He doesn’t care I’m his daughter, in fact I’m fairly sure he’s known this entire time and never once has he reached out to me or tried to look for me. But why would he, after what she did?” I chuckle nervously as I turn my attention to my mother who looks terribly bored sitting in her spot by the corner. I spit on her feet. “I’m sure he hates her with such an intense passion. Why would he care what happens to the daughter she forced them to have together?”

Clearly frantic by my words, Wesley pushes the blade further in, the tip nudging me causing me to wince. The son of a bitch cut me.

“Oops,” he mocks, sliding his finger across the cut, looking down at my blood smeared upon them, and then back at me. “She bleeds.” His smile turns dangerously wickedly, and I immediately feel Ace shift at my side. “Don’t you dare, son,” Wesley warns him. “You do anything stupid and it’s your girlfriend’s pretty little face that pays the price.”

“Don’t fucking threaten him.” I spit out at him, bringing his attention back to me.

“You want to test my theory, darling. You think he’d still want you, were you to be disfigured?”

“Wesley, just stop,” my mother calls out from her seat on the sidelines, where she’s been watching attentively, not moving a muscle to stop him.

Wesley answers back, not bothering to turn to her. Clearly things have gotten out of control if my mother is trying to stop him. “Oh, come on, Lil, you’d love it if her face, which rivals yours on so many levels, gets a little makeover now, wouldn’t you?”

“Enough!” Maxwell yells, shocking everyone. He tries to stand, but the restraints on his hands prevent him from doing so. “I’m not the one who’s blackmailing you, Wesley. Although I’m not surprised someone is. You’ve made a lot of enemies. I know a handful of people myself who’d love to see you fall and this empire you so tirelessly built crumble at your feet. Not to mention how your inner circle must have so many ways of discovering your secrets. You mean to tell me none of them know what you two did?” Maxwell laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. His blue eyes darken with fury as he watches Wesley intently, the hatred he feels toward him nearly felt in the air around us. “Please, if I learned anything in this vile world is that there is no such thing as secrets.”

Wesley turns back to me with an uncontrollable fury visible deep within his eyes like nothing I’ve ever seen before. The cold, steel blade is still pressed against my cheek, so I don’t move. “I will find out who it is, my dear, I promise you that. When I do, you’ll regret being so fucking defiant.” His lips move closer to mine as he whispers against my mouth, sending a wave of revulsion through me. “I will end you, punish you beyond anything you’ve ever imagined, and break you to the point of no return. You’ll be begging for mercy, and I will show you none.”

I step forward, allowing the blade to cut me further, forcing it deeper into my cheek. I lick my lips, slightly grazing him with my tongue. His eyes widen at my brazen move.

“You don’t get to break me; I won’t allow it. You, Wesley Servite, don't get that power.”