Traps and Gretchen (Bayou Bishops #19)

Trapped

“Breathe, Bee-shjoo!” Neelo ordered at seeing her frozen, his fury spinning him to Handy. “What did you do to her!”

“It wasn’t me,” he swore.

He watched his wife slowly bend down to pick up the mess. She stared at a piece of glass in her hand then slid it right over her wrist.

Fetch’s speed caught her before the full cut was made as Traps grabbed hold of her hands, staring into his wife’s wide eyes, brimming with tears.

Terror pummeled his heart as he held her gaze. “Bee-shjoo!” he barely whispered. “Talk to me.”

Something slipped away in her gaze, pulling her into a place he couldn’t follow, the light in her sweet spirit dimming as shadows sucked her in with his every breath.

“She’s slipping away,” Handy whispered, his worry not helping. “It’s too fucking much!”

“What’s happening to her?” Rowan demanded now. “Kaphas, talk to us!”

“Celeste,” he said quietly. “She just… wanted to help her.”

“She’s bloody not here!” Rowan yelled.

“She can feel things through us,” Handy said. “And distance is apparently no problem for her!”

“Brother, you’re the only anchor strong enough to hold on to her,” Fetch whispered to Traps. “Bring her to the place where you consummated your marriage, immediately. Handy, come with us.”

Traps snatched her up in his arms and raced to his room but the minute he set her on the bed, she became a wild banshee, nails tearing whatever flesh she could reach, and when she couldn’t reach them, she tore at her own face, her screams cutting through him as he tackled her to the bed.

“Hold her while I get my ropes!” he said, staring into her screaming face while Fetch grabbed her arms and Handy her legs.

“She’s fighting,” Fetch said. “That’s a good thing.”

Traps speed wrapped her legs together then did the same to her wrists before climbing off the bed, looking at Fetch. “What’s wrong with her?” he demanded quietly, fighting his own helpless panic as she thrashed.

“Celeste wants to help free her.”

Traps spun to Handy, realizing it wasn’t him who’d spoke. “Kaphas?”

He nodded. “It’s instinctive to her nature,” he said. “Her greatest power is love. She saved me with that power.”

Traps shook his head, his heart in a vice of sick fear at seeing his wife in that state. He secured her bindings to the bed when she tossed herself violently about all while craving to rip apart the man calmly explaining behind him.

“I don’t think she realizes what she’s doing,” Kaphas said in awe as Gretchen began to sob.

The pain in the wrenched cries shredded him. “What do I do?” he breathed, needing to fucking do something.

“You’ll need another rope to connect yourself to the ties binding her.”

Neelo immediately grabbed one from the foot of the bed and created a bowline knot around his waist and attached the end to the binding at her wrist.

Fetch held another rope and attached it to himself then handed his end to Traps. “Bind us.” He looked at Handy. “You hold on to the rope around me and ready your backlash power.”

“Got it, boss,” he muttered.

“I’m going to Fetch her pain through Neelo and give it to you to read. You send it back to me and I’ll carefully feed it to Neelo.”

“You sure about that, brother?” Handy said. “She may not be able to control it.”

“I can manage it. So can he.”

“Just fucking hurry ,” Traps urged, not able to take another second of her tragic wailing.

“This is going to feel strange,” Fetch warned lowly.

Traps grunted when heat pinched his navel then slowly spread through his body as Gretchen’s wails seemed to get louder, longer, more painful than ever. What the fuck was he doing, how was this helping?

“Handy…” Fetch whispered, his breaths shuddering out of him. “Get ready. Incoming.”

The warning dropped Handy to his knees like he’d gotten punched in his stomach. His free hand shook next to him in the air as he seethed and growled, then slowly made a fist.

“She’s got it,” Handy warned through a growl as they waited. “Holy shit , she’s returning it. And it’s fucking huge .”

“I’ve got him,” Fetch said back. “Send it to me.”

Whatever he sent through hit Fetch hard enough to produce a sharp warbling in the air. “Brace yourself, brother,” he breathed around the metallic growls.

Neelo wasn’t sure how to brace other than planting his feet apart and holding tighter to the rope linking them. The moment he whispered his, “Ready” a huge fire-blast hit his veins followed by a dense flood of Gretchen’s pain. A chain of anguished memories flowed through the ropes connecting them until each breath he took was like fighting for his life. He wasn’t just seeing her life, he was living every moment. Every few seconds he was thrust into moments of raw agony until finally he stood in a memory where his sweet Gretchen was just a little girl of around six. The first thing that stole his breath was feeling her pure heart. She was such a good child. So very quiet. So very careful. No one worried about her because she never asked for anything. Never wanted to be a burden. She just wanted to be the best daughter, to help with the day-to-day burdens of her large family. She didn’t show her needs even though she had plenty—all aching and unspoken. She was lost in the noise of the household, overshadowed by younger siblings, twins born right after her, needing more care, more attention, while his sweet Bee-shjoo made herself even smaller, more invisible.

He heaved through the painful hole in his chest as his guts twisted through her memories. He saw Marcy, her older sister who was supposed to look after her but never did. Not out of cruelty, just ignorant neglect. He watched Gretchen try and open up only to get cut off every time. There was always something or someone more interesting happening. His heart shattered as he watched her at family gatherings, trying so hard to join in, her voice getting quieter as others laughed, talked over her, until her words were just... gone. Faded into the background.

Just like her.

Neelo growled on the sharp, bitter craving to be seen. To be needed . To be wanted. Every attempt to connect with somebody met with indifference.

She was invisible . And to feel it was suffocating him.

“Stay with it, brother,” Fetch urged, his voice low and tight, struggling with the weight of it too. “She needs you to stay with it.”

The memories rushed forward again, relentless. Her birthdays... God, her fucking birthdays . Neelo watched her pour her heart into everyone else’s celebrations—spending days preparing, making handmade decorations, crafting personal gifts—always going above and beyond, hoping they’d notice, hoping it would matter, hoping they’d return the gesture. But when her own birthday came around, it was last-minute and barely remembered even with her reminding them weeks ahead. A bitter sob choked him as the memory of a forgotten birthday gutted him. She got biscuits for a makeshift cake. No candles, no decorations. The agony intensified when he listened and watched the laughter and chatting, but none of it was with her . Never with her . And still, she smiled, she thanked them, she forced herself to act grateful while dying inside, dying to be important to them, special to them.

Neelo clenched his fists as Gretchen’s pain echoed through the ropes and tore him to pieces. This was more than neglect, it was abandonment . Bit by bit. The part that slayed him was how long she tried. How long she hoped. Hoped to be seen, to matter. But they fucking never saw her. She never mattered. And it hurt worse than anything Neelo had ever felt.

“She’s been… invisible her whole life,” he barely whispered, choking on the realization. “And she tried… so fucking hard.”

Fetch’s grip tightened on the rope, feeding more of the pain through to him.

“She hid behind her books,” Neelo gasped around the agony. “Pretended everything was fine.” Neelo dropped to his knees as he held on to her with all his strength. “She hides behind masks, that’s how she’s survived,” he realized, his voice breaking. “That’s how she survived being fucking invisible .”

The weight shifted inside him as something heavier than all the loneliness and neglect crawled through the lines connecting them. A shadow, lurking in the back of her memories.

“It’s multiplying,” Handy grunted, his voice strained as the backlash power pulsed through them.

“We’re almost there,” Fetch breathed, his voice shaking with the effort of whatever he was doing while Gretchen’s cries came like jagged shards of glass.

The pressure in Neelo’s chest built to unbearable when it came. That horrible fucking day she gave up . Stopped hoping anyone would see her, anyone would care. That moment she stepped into isolation and locked herself away, the real Gretchen. She would remain there, his sweet Bee-shjoo, trapped in a place she called Nowhere. Unreachable. Utterly alone.

“I have to break through,” Neelo whispered, his voice raw. “I need to go to her, she needs me!”

“You will,” Fetch growled, tightening the ropes around Neelo’s waist and the ones connected to Gretchen. “We’re almost there. She’s still pulling us in.”

Gretchen’s pain surged through Neelo, her cries guttural, ripping out from a place so deep he could hardly breathe through it. She was a little girl lost in the dark, pleading for someone to find her and save her. It stretched on and on, rising and falling in waves of despair.

“Now!” Fetch ordered. “This is the center of her darkness.”

Neelo’s body trembled from the onslaught of emotions still crashing through him. His hands shook in the ropes as her pain fought to drown him. He swallowed hard and breathed deep, calling to her, “Bee-shjoo.” He closed his eyes and sent all his love, all his strength back through the rope. “I see you , Bee-shjoo. I’m here, my love.”

The rope pulsed beneath his hands, but Gretchen’s sobs didn’t stop. If anything, they became more frantic.

“She’s buried too deep,” Handy muttered, grimacing as he held on. “She can’t hear you.”

Neelo’s heart pounded as he tightened his grip on the rope and pressed his forehead to the knot binding them together. “I love you, Gretchen,” he swore, keeping his voice low and tender. “You don’t have to hide anymore. I see you. You matter so much to me .”

Gretchen’s sobbing wavered, as if his words had cut through the haze of agony.

Neelo drew closer, lowering his mouth to her ear. “You don’t have to pretend, Bee-shjoo. You’re so much more than enough. You’re… fucking everything to me.” Neelo let out a ragged breath, tears slipping down his face. “I don’t care about the masks you wear, or the characters you hide behind,” he swore. “I don’t care about who you think you should be, I want you . I want… I crave… the real you. The one who’s been hiding in the dark for so long.”

The rope pulsed again, stronger this time, and Gretchen’s sobs softened. Neelo could feel her just beyond the edge of the storm, waiting for him to find her.

“Come back to me,” Neelo whispered, his voice as broken as his heart. “I’ll take all your pain, every bit of it. But I will not carry it, Bee-shjoo, I’ll crush it. I’ll destroy it for hurting you. Because I am your monster. Nothing will terrorize you in this world except me . But you have to come back. Come back to me, Bee-shjoo .”

Tension thickened the air then Gretchen’s sobs faded into soft, broken breaths. Neelo felt every tie between them as it pulled so tight, like the universe itself meshed them together.

“Neelo…” she gasped, her voice weak, trembling.

“Bee-shjoo,” he whispered urgently, pouring all his love into the ropes that bound them. “I’m here, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

The weight of her pain lifted a little and he felt her daring to reach for him.

“I’m never letting you go,” he swore. “Not ever.”

He struggled with every breath as Gretchen’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze dazed and distant, but her body was finally calm. She noticed the rope on her wrists and flexed her fingers as if not sure they were real.

Neelo reached for her bound hands and held them gently in his own, kissing her knuckles. “I’m right here,” he said. “You’re safe with your monster.”

She blinked, her tear-streaked face turning more toward him. “Neelo…” The hope in her tiny voice hit him in the chest and he gasped. It was her . It was his real Bee-shjoo.

“I’m here,” he repeated softly, his heart swelling with so much relief. “I’m right here.”

He heard the door and looked over his shoulder right as Handy and Fetch left out. He needed to… Finish it. That was the term whispering through his blood and mind. He had to Finish it by showing her just how much she meant to him, that she belonged to him, and was utterly safe and sacred to him. He had to take ownership of every part of her.

Her mouth quivered as her fingers tightened around his. He devoured the sight of her, covering her lips with his. “You’re more than enough, Ma Belle Petite Bee-shjoo,” he swore hotly, kissing every inch of her face. “You’re everything . You’re everything to me.”