The Girl in the Wych Elm (XII)

 

XII. Ashes of a Failed Star

Ryan and Chloe wished their friends a drunken farewell and began their stumbling trek back home. The recently engaged couple spent the evening and part of the night at a dinner party hosted by their longtime friends. The festivities came to an immediate end once the storm died down. “See you at work on Monday!” Chloe yelled over her shoulder to Jasmine who monitored them from the doorway. “You guys enjoy the rest of your night!” She screamed with drunken elation.

Ryan stretched upwards. “Whoo! Man, we have some amazing friends!” Last time he had drunk that heavily was in his early twenties. Three beers and two shots of whiskey nearly did him in. To a younger Ryan, that would have been light work. “Can’t take alcohol to the head like I used to. Probably my last time drinking like that until our wedding night.” Ryan said, pulling Chloe into him and kissing her forehead. “I love you so much, baby. I can’t wait to give you my last name.”

Chloe admired her engagement ring, a pink diamond. A ring and stone she had always wanted. Even among the dull streetlights, the stone shone brightly, like the smile on Chloe’s face. The radiant woman had her head high above the clouds with no signs of coming down any time soon. Chloe prayed the remaining year flew by quickly. She was ready to get married.

Ryan continued rambling on while Chloe remained fixated on her ring. “I really wish-I really wish Nick came out to celebrate with us tonight.” Ryan’s upbeat mood shifted; he became sullen thinking about their estranged friend. Nick, Chloe, and Ryan had been friends for a long time, since high school. But Nick’s unrequited love for Chloe drove a massive wedge between their friendship, sadly. “I wonder if he’ll come to our wedding…?” Ryan thought aloud, debating on whether to call Nick. He wanted a response, even if it wasn’t the answer he sought. Ryan just wanted to hear his friend’s voice, regardless of whatever tone awaited him on the other end of the phone.

“He won’t be upset forever, Ryan.” Chloe took a break from admiring her ring. The couple paused under one of the streetlights. “I’m sure Nick will come around eventually.” They would continue giving Nick the necessary space and time he needed. Compared to her fiancé, Chloe was more hopeful. She believed their friendship would be mended in time. “Uh, hold up just a moment Ryan.” Chloe glanced over his shoulder. Something in the distance concerned her. “Babe… L-look! Do you see that over there?” She pointed at the body laid across the grass. They weren’t moving.

Ryan and Chloe argued over their course of action. Chloe opted to call the police; Ryan suggested they check on the person. “We should at least make sure they’re okay Chloe. Th-they could be having a seizure or a diabetic crisis.” Leaving an unconscious person vulnerable in the middle of the night didn’t sit right with Ryan morally. He believed they should make sure the person was breathing. It was the least they could do.

Chloe, on the other hand, was extremely wary. It was super late at night. Ryan wasn’t wrong, but Chloe felt like their safety was of more important. The couple calling the police was doing something. Ultimately, Chloe gave in after being guilt-tripped by Ryan. “Okay, Ryan. Okay. We make sure they’re breathing, call the police, then go home.” She pulled her jacket tightly, still uncertain about approaching.

Ryan’s face perked up with a smile. He was relieved Chloe saw things his way. “I love you so much.” He said to her, softly pinching her cheek. Ryan approached cautiously. The person laid prone on the ground which made it difficult for Ryan to see their face. “Uh, excuse me?” No response. “Hey… Hey!” Ryan raised his voice a little louder. “Do-do you need some help?” Still no response. Nothing. He looked back at Chloe who watched some feet away. “Hey! Hey, are you okay? Hey!” Ryan kneeled beside the person and tried to rouse them physically. He leaned in for a closer look.  

The abrupt change in Ryan’s expression rattled Chloe. His face twisted in horror. “R-Ryan…?” The man backed away slowly. “What’s wr-?”

Ryan grabbed Chloe roughly. “Let’s get out of here.” Confused by the sudden sense of urgency, she asked what was wrong. Ryan barked harshly at Chloe to move, which startled her. She had never seen or experienced such a rough side of Ryan like that. “Chloe, I said let’s go!” The panicked man yanked on his fiancée’s arm hard.

Chloe screamed at Ryan; he was hurting her. “Ouch! Ryan! That hurts! Ryan! Let go!” Ryan came to his senses and let go of Chloe’s arm, apologizing profusely. “What-what did you see? Are they…? Don’t tell me they’re dead?” He shifted uncomfortably while Chloe’s worried stare burned a hole into his chest.

“It’s… It’s not a real person…” Chloe gawked at Ryan as if he had sprouted a second head.

“What are you talking about?” She asked, still looking at him with an expression of disbelief. “Is it a dummy, or something?” Ryan nodded. The answer sounded ridiculous. Chloe scoffed at the claim and went to see with her own eyes. When she pulled back the hood, Chloe was struck with the same baffled horror as Ryan was. Her fiancé had been right. “You weren’t lying. This is a mannequin.” Chloe jumped up, dusting her hands on her dress. “Let’s go-” Ryan collapsed suddenly; his body crumpled beside the mannequin. Blood seeped from the back of his head.

The attacker loomed ominously behind the frightened Chloe. She couldn’t see the face due to a mask. But Chloe saw the metal pole dripping with Ryan’s blood. She fell to her knees and pleaded with the attacker to spare them. Chloe could have run away, but her conscience wouldn’t allow her to leave Ryan behind. How could she? Ryan was her love. The Survivor’s Guilt would have torn her apart. “Pl-please… Please don’t hurt us!” The attacker was impressed over Chloe’s decision to stay with Ryan. That, however, didn’t change the attacker’s intention. The bloody weapon was brought down on her head while she wept uncontrollably.

 

The cable ties sliced deeper into Ryan’s wrists and ankles as he struggled against the restraints. Trying to break free was pointless as it would have only sped up his death from blood loss. “My damn head is killing me!” The back of his head still throbbed painfully. “Wait! Where’s Chloe? Chloe?” The pain began subsiding as his adrenaline picked up. “Chloe? Chloe!” Ryan searched the room frantically, hoping for some sign of her. There was none. “Baby, can-can you hear me? Are you able to see me? Wh-where are you? Chloe! Chloe?” Ryan’s stomach churned violently. He had an ill feeling something happened to her.

The attacker, who observed quietly from the shadows, finally stepped into the light of the overhead lamp. Tucked under their arm was a dissection kit. Ryan yelped when he beheld the assortment of sharp instruments. “Your Chloe was a noble woman; I’ll give her that. She had the opportunity to run away but stayed behind because of you. Ironic, isn’t it? She died and you’re still alive…for now at least.” The attacker killed Chloe after striking her which had been grossly unintentional. “I was going to make you both watch, but it appears that won’t be on the agenda tonight.”

Ryan stubbornly rejected the statement. “She’s not dead. My Chloe’s not dead.” He wouldn’t believe it until he saw Chloe’s body with his own eyes. Ryan screamed obscenities at the attacker, glaring with bloodshot eyes that brimmed with hatred. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. This isn’t how it was supposed to end for us. We’re supposed to get married next year. We were going to have kids, three of them. We were going to travel the world after watching our children grow up. “Where is Chloe? Where is my fiancée?” He demanded to see her. Ryan bawled hysterically, thrashing violently against the metal table as the cable ties sliced ever deeper into his skin. “I want to see my Chloe!”

“If you say so. But remember…you wanted this.” The attacker quietly retreated back into the darkness. They returned dragging Chloe’s lifeless body and dumped her unceremoniously onto the table beside Ryan. Pallor Mortis had settled in, which meant Chloe had been dead for a while.

Poor Ryan howled with grief when he saw her corpse. He shrieked Chloe’s name from the tops of his lungs. This is my fault. The person he blamed was not the attacker, it was himself. I should have listened to her. I should have just called the damn cops. Chloe’s life was the toll Ryan paid for his kind morality.

“Love is such a beautiful thing.” The attacker commented, pulling Chloe’s hair out of her face. “I was in love a long time ago.” They revealed to the bound man.

“I don’t give a damn!” Ryan, distraught, screamed. “You fucking killed her! You killed…my Chloe…” He threw his head back sobbing.

The attacker rounded the exam table and stood beside Ryan. “Your death isn’t because of some personal vendetta.” Neither Ryan nor Chloe had been the intended targets. They merely fell for the bait. Had it not been them, it would have been someone else.

Ryan spat on his kidnapper. “Stop talking to me.” At that point, he had accepted his fate. There was no point in bargaining or pleading. There was no escape. He was ready for the nightmare to be over.

The attacker stroked Ryan’s face affectionately. He jerked away, not wanting to be touched by a monster. “They never stop crying. Night and day, even in my sleep I hear their cries of agony. That’s why you have to die like all the ones that came before you.” The attacker sounded on the verge of tears. “They feed on the blood of innocents. I-I can’t help it. There’s nothing else I can do. This is the only way.” Unfortunately, Ryan’s and Chloe’s deaths wouldn’t silence the crying for long. It didn’t matter how many innocent people were killed, they always came back. “I could slaughter everyone in this God-forsaken town, and it still wouldn’t be enough for them.” An endless cycle of murder was all it was. The attacker asked Ryan his opinion.

Ryan, with nothing left to lose, ridiculed his would-be killer. “You’re a lunatic. That’s what I think.” He cackled. “I hope it never stops. I hope the noise continues tormenting you until your last breath. You’re a sick, sick asshole.” In his final moments, Ryan prayed to God his killer would never know a moment of peace in life or death. “I hope they hound you straight into madness.” He laughed triumphantly.

The attacker reached for their mask. “I’m already mad.” They replied, removing the mask. Ryan’s eyes bulged from their sockets when he saw their face.

“Oh…my…God… No…” He shook his head wildly. “No. No I can’t believe this. I can’t believe this. No way! Oh God…there’s no way.” The eyes of the killer looking down at him were Dr. Donovan Aschermann’s. He began thrashing again, that time with swearing. “No! No! No! No! No! No!” Ryan couldn’t accept the truth. So desperately did he want to believe the man hovering over him was some deranged doppelganger. Agonized screams tore from his throat. “But you…saved my father’s life. You’re not a cold-hearted killer. Not the Dr. Aschermann I know. You were too kind and compassionate and-and…” He wept like a heartbroken boy whose girlfriend had ended their relationship. The reveal devastated him more than Chloe’s death. “Why? Why?” Donovan said nothing because he had already told the doomed man why moments earlier.

Donovan watched a weeping Ryan with cold, dark eyes that seemed to resemble bottomless chasms. The darkness they reflected back distorted his appearance. He became unrecognizable to Ryan. Those eyes belonged to an unrelenting killer. Donovan caressed Ryan’s face one last time. A mad smile of satisfaction crept slowly across his face. “And theerrrreee’s the silence…”  

 

The incinerator housed in the basement of Old Hall had been there since the hospital’s initial construction. When services transferred over to New Hall decades later, the machine was put out of commission until Donovan roused it from its long slumber with a new purpose. The machine had finally reached the end of its service life, which not only dismayed Donovan but inconvenienced him as well. “I should call up the Red Hound for recommendations.” He said, dumping the last tub of dismembered body parts into the machine’s vault. Donovan then pulled up a chair and watched the dancing fire through the window. He always basked in the beauty of the flames. “Now what do you want?” Donovan addressed the watcher hiding in the shadows. He felt their eyes on him for a while. Despite their intrusion, Donovan kept his eyes on the window. His intuition told him the uninvited visitor wasn’t a real threat.

Roxanne emerged from the shadows, revealing herself. “Kind of dangerous keeping your back on a stranger, no? What if I had a knife or maybe a pipe to club you with?” She told him jokingly. Donovan nearly tipped out of his chair, startled by her presence. He was speechless. “Never understood how you were able to stomach the stench of death.” Roxanne began closing the wide rift between their bodies. “They say the Red Hound uses acid to dispose of his victims.” She informed Donovan. Roxanne recommended the option as an alternative for the incinerator. “But anyways, how are you, Donovan?” She greeted him with a friendly smile. “It’s nice to see you again after all these years.”  Roxanne words had long fallen deaf on Donovan’s ears. Her beauty and presence were all he could fixate on. They hadn’t seen or spoken to each other in seven years. The stress and melancholy on her face aside, Roxanne was still radiant as the sun.

Like a moth enraptured by the flicker of flames, Donovan absentmindedly approached Roxanne, and she opened her arms to embrace him. He couldn’t wait to feel the soft warmth of her body against his which was cold and hard. It was like a chemical reaction whenever their bodies came into contact with each other. Around Roxanne, Donovan had no sense of reasoning and control. The cries of torment that hounded him became low whispers in his ears. Donovan realized a long time ago the bewitching effect Roxanne had on him. Every aspect of her did from her scent to her voice, to her touch and to her beauty. Roxanne’s fire burned away at his wings like the flames of an incinerator. She was his destruction. Yet even as he watched from the ground, dying, he still worshipped Roxanne like a goddess of the sun.

The trance on Donovan was broken suddenly. He pulled back, avoiding his destruction, before he drew too close to Roxanne and her fire. The rift Roxanne worked hard to close widened once again. The cold returned despite Donovan’s proximity to the incinerator. “Please leave, Roxanne.” Donovan looking away from Roxanne upset her more than his ill-mannered words.

“Don-”

He interjected sternly. “This isn’t up for argument, Roxanne. Go home like I told you to.” She didn’t belong there in the basement with him among the darkness, horror, and murder. “I don’t want you around me…” The words hurt, not Roxanne, but Donovan. He didn’t mean any of what he said. Donovan came to the realization during their seven years apart that it was for the best their relationship ended when it did. His double life as a serial killer would have eventually impacted his relationship with Roxanne in time. The killer doctor returned to his chair. The eyes that stared passionately at Roxanne returned to the incinerator.

Stubborn as she was, Roxanne refused. Donovan could bark commands all he wanted, but she came there to see him and wasn’t leaving any time soon. “You’re right, Donovan, this isn’t up for argument.” Donovan rubbed his restless hands against his pants. They itched for Roxanne’s body. He missed that bull-headed woman so much. “Turn around.” She demanded. Donovan refused. He told an irate Roxanne he would be ignoring her moving forward. She clenched her fists. “Don’t ignore me, Donovan, or I-” Roxanne found her wrists pinned above her head.

“You don’t frighten me, Roxanne Morgenstern.” He whispered into her. With his free hand, he traced a line down her jaw. Roxanne’s body almost melted from his touch.

She gazed up at Donovan with an amused smirk. “You think I’m frightened by you?” He replied that Roxanne should be when he just killed, dismembered, and incinerated two people. She ran her tongue seductively across her lip. “I am a Morgenstern, remember? Flirting with danger is what we do.” Donovan couldn’t hold back his amusement. His smile broke through the stoic expression. “I saw the way you looked at me moments ago. I took your breath away.” Roxanne gave him the go ahead. He released her wrists and moved his hands down, cradling her face.

Roxanne saw the hesitation; she pressed her lips against his. “R-Roxanne…” Her name escaped his mouth on a moan. He quickly changed his mind and pulled away, but she wouldn’t let him go.

“I haven’t kissed another man since you.” She revealed. Roxanne told the truth. She remained single since the day their relationship ended. Roxanne knew no man other than Donovan could love her intensely like he did. No man could satisfy her body like he did. Her love, body, and soul would always belong to Donovan whether they were apart for seven years or fifty. “I’ve been missing you so much, Donovan.” She kissed his ear which made Donovan tremble. “You’ve been on my mind for a while.” Roxanne continued, stroking the inside of his thigh as she spoke. “I’ve missed the taste of your kisses. The weight of your body on top of mine.” Her hand inched closer and closer until she felt his zipper. Roxanne moaned passionately into his ear. “I know you’ve been missing me.” Donovan’s heart raced, threatening to explode from his chest. He was going to burst. “Tell me you’ve missed me, Donovan.” She moaned louder into his ear, kissing him up and down his neck. Roxanne forced Donovan’s hand under her dress.

He had to catch his breath when he didn’t feel her panties. “St-Roxanne… Roxanne…” Donovan spoke her name in a half moaning, half growling manner.

“Tell me… Say it…” Roxanne wrapped her leg around his waist so he couldn’t pull away from her again.  “Say it, Donovan…” She demanded more forcefully the second time.

Donovan’s slow, heavy breathing turned into panting. He moaned Roxanne’s name until it sounded like a chant. He was ready. Donovan was ready to give himself over to Roxanne completely. She could do whatever she wanted to him. He was exactly where he wanted to be and that was at Roxanne’s mercy. “Roxanne… Roxanne I-” She yanked his zipper down and slipped her hand through the opening. The initiation of sex should have aroused Donovan, but it sent him into a nervous panic.

“Come on, Donovan. Fuck me.” She demanded passionately but aggressively. Her thumb massaged the tip of his head. “You can fuck me right now.” Roxanne looked up at him with a frenzied look of ecstasy in her eyes. When she dove in for another kiss, Donovan stopped her. He managed to break free of her physical hold on him. “Wh-what? Did-did I do something wrong?” She asked, confused and panting. Her curly hair was glued to her skin from the sweat.

“No. No you didn’t do anything wrong.” Donovan answered while zipping his pants. He was horny for Roxanne just as much as she was for him, but he couldn’t have sex with her in a dismal place like an old hospital basement. “Not here. We’re not having sex…here.” He motioned around. “You’re coming home with me.” He told Roxanne, offering her his hand.

 

The soft water rejuvenated Roxanne’s skin and body like a withered flower brought back from the edge of death. The well water from her Wych Elm home and the hard water from the Morgenstein home had turned her skin into something like sandpaper over the years. Roxanne felt immaculate, a feeling she hadn’t felt in so long. “I really should get out now. Donovan’s waiting on me probably.” Roxanne shut off the water; she had been in there for close to forty minutes. A somber mood settled in when Roxanne stepped out. She would never experience an enjoyable shower like that ever again. 

Folded neatly inside the towel warmer was a rose taupe bathrobe, the signature color of the Aschermann family. Donovan made sure there was a wide selection of high-end body creams, facial moisturizers, and perfumes waiting for Roxanne on a silver tray. She could smell the fragrances even with the bottles sealed. Next to the tray was another one which held a gooseneck kettle and three boxes of assorted teas. Donovan knew how much Roxanne enjoyed tea after a relaxing shower or bath. She was brought to tears looking over the setup, overwhelmed by heavy emotions. The world hadn’t been kind to Roxanne since she lost everything. Pain, misery, and suffering were all she knew. And yet, Donovan’s kind act, small as it was, brought genuine happiness back into her dark life. The man whose heart she had broken long ago still loved her dearly, that was evidently clear.

Roxanne started with the facial moisturizer. As she rubbed the cream into her skin while in the mirror, the smile on her face slowly vanished. “Irony works in comical ways…” Reality sank in deeper than an anchor on an ocean floor. Roxanne’s time at the Aschermann’s estate was fleeting. She would have to return to her impoverished existence inside that rickety house on the outskirts once her affair with Donovan was over. She might have been seven years too late, but Roxanne understood her brother’s fruitless ambitions. Like Orion, Roxanne longed for the life she had. The life she could have had, and the life she could no longer return to. The Hightowers would never allow that to happen. Betrayal was an act they never took lightly nor forgave easily. She understood that much, unlike naive Orion.  

Concerned for Roxanne’s wellbeing, the maid tapped softly on the bathroom door. “Are you okay, Miss Morgenstern? Do you need anything? You’ve been in the bathroom for a while.” The maid informed Roxanne that Dr. Aschermann was waiting on her. Roxanne replied that she would be ten more minutes. She wiped her tears and hurried with her post-shower routine. The electric kettle whistled; the water was ready for tea. Roxanne kept the bathrobe on in lieu of the silk nightgown that hung on the door. She wouldn’t need it for a while.

Refreshed, clean, and moisturized, Roxanne exited the bathroom with steaming tea in hand. “Donovan, can I take some boxes of tea home with me?” When she saw Eleanor, Roxanne nearly dropped her tea. Her face contorted in disgust and hatred at the sight of the woman. The “Dr. Aschermann” waiting on her was Donovan’s cousin, not him.

“Ah! I heard there was a stray cat roaming around the estate.” She spoke condescendingly; a mannerism Roxanne wasn’t surprised hadn’t changed since they last saw one another. “I see my cousin Donovan has made you an inside pet now.” Eleanor was displeased to see Roxanne inside her home. She lowered and shook her head. The woman still wore her white coat; she had recently gotten off work. The news of Roxanne’s presence ruined her evening. “I’m rather impressed that after all these years you still have that fool pussy whipped for you. Given that you broke his heart and everything.” She sighed tiresomely. “He embarrasses me so much it makes me violently ill.” Eleanor asked if Roxanne was there to break Donovan’s heart again because she wanted a front row seat. The animosity between the two women ran deep. There was never a time when either Roxanne or Eleanor came to terms.

Roxanne never understood how a woman as gorgeous as Eleanor had such a loathsome personality. She possessed the type of beauty that would have men climbing over each other to reach her. Whoever got the opportunity would be sorely disappointed, however. That beautiful face was a mask that concealed a ferocious woman with a beastly temperament. Eleanor was nothing like her counterpart Lucia who was soft, feminine, and regal. The world of the High Families was never meant for women. The manner in which Eleanor carried herself was not for the approval of the other family heads. It was for herself. Their opinions meant little to nothing to her. Eleanor neither craved nor desired their acceptance because she saw the cracks in the table and it was only a matter of time.

“For someone who claims they hate their cousin Eleanor, your nose stays in his business.” Roxanne replied. She sat opposite Eleanor on the other sofa. “Maybe some part of you cares about Donovan to an extent.” She smirked cheekily at the other woman.

Eleanor buffed her nails against her coat, unbothered by the jab. “Yeah, well… Be honest with me, Roxanne.” She met Roxanne with annoyed eyes. “What are you doing here?” Eleanor told Roxanne it wasn’t personal, but she was a massive liability to the Aschermanns. Her presence on and inside the estate endangered their wellbeing. She reminded Roxanne that she was the daughter of a traitorous family. “I don’t need Alexander up my ass.” The nonchalance in her tone vanished. Eleanor was rarely serious, even when she was being malicious or vindictive.

Roxanne brought the warm tea to her lips. “If you’d let someone fuck you every now and then, you’d already know the answer to that question.” She sipped the drink. “It would improve your mood too.” She winked playfully.

Eleanor popped her tongue at the response. “You’re very audacious with the jokes. They say your brother is Alexander’s newest dog. I wonder who’s the bigger embarrassment, Donovan or Orion?” She chuckled at the thought. “Definitely Orion. He has you living in squalor while running around doing the mayor’s dirty work out of pitiful hope he can restore your family’s title and honor.” She mocked the woman.

Roxanne sat the cup on the end table. “Eleanor, I have a question for you. What power or influence do you think Orion and I have, in our current positions, to pose any sort of threat? My own family stood no chance against the High Families.” She opened her hands.

Eleanor chuckled wryly at Roxanne. “I doubt my idiot cousin has ever told you since he’s always been annoyingly overprotective of you in every aspect. You know why I dislike you so much?” Roxanne’s eyebrow raised. “It’s because you have this infuriating habit of playing dumb and naïve when it suits you.” Her eyes narrowed at Roxanne.

“I appreciate the compliment.” Roxanne shrugged unapologetically. The remark didn’t bother her. She learned to tune Eleanor’s misery out years ago.

“It wasn’t a compliment but appreciate it while you can because you’ll never get another one from me.” Eleanor shifted into a different position, pulling her legs up on the couch. “My position in the family is regretfully tied to his. And I can’t have anyone, including his ex-bitch, jeopardizing the status quo we have going on here.” The Aschermann family had an unorthodox leadership dynamic. Donovan and Eleanor shared their position as the head.

Originally, the position belonged to Donovan and was supposed to be his alone. He was elected by the elders and forced into the role which infuriated him. He never wanted to lead and never would. Donovan rallied in favor of Eleanor, arguing that his cousin was the more suitable candidate. To spite the family’s elders, Donovan neglected his responsibilities until Eleanor was installed. He was the figurehead while his cousin held control behind the scenes.

Roxanne grew rather annoyed; the conversation with Eleanor had gone on for too long. She withdrew and allowed the woman to drone on. She’s just like Alexander. Roxanne thought to herself. The two had a lot of similarities, from their facial expressions, their words, their attitudes to their closely mirrored body language. They would have made an ideal couple if it weren’t for their egos and clashing personalities.

“I’m having dinner with Lucia Lightwood in two weeks.” The suite door swung open. I need you to look over…my schedule…” Donovan’s face dropped the second his eyes met Eleanor’s. He went to shower in another room while Roxanne occupied his bathroom.

Eleanor grinned manically when she saw Donovan. On the end table beside her was a heavy, decorative sculpture head; she launched it at his head. Donovan expected as much and ducked before it struck him. The object left a deep impact in his wall. He looked over at the damage and sighed heavily. “What are you doing here in my suite, Eleanor?” He asked with displeasure. Donovan had been excited about his intimate time with Roxanne on his way back to the suite only for it to be disrupted by his aggravating cousin. “Matter of fact, why are you in my section of the house anyways? We agreed to meet in the dining room for any and all discussions.”

Eleanor glanced at Roxanne. She had a bright, mischievous glint in her eyes. “I heard Eleanor was here and came to see her.” She lied through her teeth. “Why didn’t you tell me she was coming over? We could have all had dinner together like old friends.” Eleanor feigned a pout.

Donovan could only cut his eyes at her. “We’ll resume later, Harold.” His assistant was dismissed. Donovan leaned against the door, crossing his arms. “You want something.” A statement, not a question.

“I do not.” She answered Donovan, shaking her head. “The only thing I want from you is a conversation.” Eleanor made herself more comfortable on the sofa, indicating that she wasn’t leaving until their conversation concluded.

Donovan shot down his cousin’s forceful request. “We can discuss tomorrow. You can leave now.” He wouldn’t allow Eleanor’s nonsense to ruin his evening with Roxanne.

“I would say, ‘Make me,’ but I know you can’t.” She laughed mockingly. Because Eleanor was proficient in several martial arts styles. Her own bodyguards struggled to get her off once she pounced on someone. “If you cooperate with me, we can do this civilly.” Roxanne picked up on the threatening undertones of Eleanor’s words. The woman became short-tempered and violent when she didn’t get her way. She had been that way since they were adolescents. Roxanne feared for Donovan’s safety. Eleanor’s punches were lethal as they were powerful.

Donovan sighed and gave in to her demand but not out of fear or intimidation. He just wanted his cousin gone. “Go on.” He told Eleanor begrudgingly.

Eleanor’s eyes narrowed again. “Did you kill her? And why?” She craned her head slowly to the right in a possessed fashion.

Donovan asked for more context in regard to the baffling questions. “What are you asking me, Eleanor?” His aggravated scowl deepened.

“The girl. The girl in the Wych Elm tree they found on Alexander’s property. Was that you?” She rose slowly to her feet, eyeing her cousin skeptically. “If so, what are you trying to accomplish here, Donovan? A war among the High Families?” The glow in Eleanor’s eyes vanished, leaving behind a darkness identical to the one housed inside Donovan’s eyes. The two cousins met halfway with neither side refusing to yield to the other. Their intense and hostile stares cut like blades.  

A sharp breath escaped his mouth. “That’s not my handiwork.” Eleanor refused to believe it.

“But it is, Donovan. You’ve always been a somewhat sloppy killer. And only a sloppy killer would dispose of their kill in such a controversial manner.” She told him that stuffing a body into a tree sounded right up Donovan’s alley.

The accusation infuriated Donovan. “Don’t confuse me with the Red Hound.” Eleanor shrugged shamelessly. “I didn’t kill that girl. I have no idea who she was, who killed her, or who her killer could be. As if I would ever jeopardize our family and our place among the High Families by doing something recklessly stupid.” What happened to the Morgenstern family was a cautionary tale no one wanted to experience.

“I see.” Eleanor traced the Aschermann’s family symbol embroidered on Donovan’s bathrobe. The infinite Ouroboros entwined around a rod. “It’s just…the timing of all these troublesome events doesn’t seem like much of a coincidence anymore.” She said with a confused expression of suspicion on her face. “A dead girl’s body on the mayor’s property.” Eleanor ran down the list using her fingers. “Orion and Roxanne back here in Wych Elm after their family was killed. Orion running around playing errand boy. Roxanne, who broke off your relationship, comes to see you after seven years. I’m also hearing rumors that we had a detective from the outside snooping around our quiet little town about that girl’s murder.” The separate events were connected somehow, at least to Eleanor. “I don’t, Donovan. It doesn’t smell right.” She eyed him suspiciously.

Donovan couldn’t help but chuckle at what he saw as nonsense. “You’re gonna burn out a synapse thinking too hard about it.” His remark had her eye twitching. Donovan leaned in closer and whispered. “If I was trying to incriminate Alexander in a murder, I wouldn’t resort to killing a child to accomplish that.” He gave Eleanor the foulest side eye. “Now killing children, that’s right up your alley.” Eleanor shared the same homicidal compulsions and urges as Donovan. Her compulsions were more tightly regulated compared to his, however. Eleanor preyed on vulnerable populations such as children or the elderly; Donovan preyed on young to middle aged adults.

Roxanne was aroused by the pair’s heated back and forth. Donovan had changed so much. The old him would have never challenged Eleanor or defied her authority. She always walked over Donovan, and he allowed it which used to upset Roxanne greatly. His metamorphosis into a man from a timid boy excited her. Roxanne’s arousal intensified. Wetness pooled between her legs as she squirmed in her seat. She rubbed the inside of her thighs, gradually closing in on her woman. She could only think about Donovan and what he would do to her once he had her naked. What she would do to him once their bodies entwined. She bit down on her lip, repressing her moans.

“Well…who knows if that girl is-or shall I say was- a girl. In the eyes of a drunkard, objects and people may appear…skewed. The words of drunk, lowborn Crimsons aren’t worth a $3 bill.” She threw up her hands. A triumphant grin appeared on Donovan’s face. Eleanor had lost. “Whatever… We’re done here.” She called for her butler with two fingers. “It was nice seeing you again, Roxanne.” The woman addressed her with fake politeness. “Do enjoy your visit with Donovan because you won’t come back here again.” Eleanor told her matter-of-factly. The butler placed the statue’s head back on the table before shutting the door behind him.

Roxanne fell over on the couch. They were finally free of Eleanor’s draining presence, even if it was only for the evening. She could relax comfortably. “Still the same insufferable Eleanor I remembered her as,” which again, came as no surprise to Roxanne.

Donovan locked the door and slid the latch. “A zebra never changes its stripes and neither does a bitch.” Her uncontrollable laughter echoed off the walls of the suite. “She’s probably on her way to smother someone’s baby or Nana out of anger.”

The smile and color drained abruptly from Roxanne’s face. Her hands instinctively reached for her stomach. She imagined Eleanor killing Vivianne had she never left Donovan. Nothing would have given the sadistic woman greater satisfaction than familicide.

Donovan walked over and plopped down on the sofa though he made sure there was space between him and Roxanne. She was saddened by his avoidance of her as she was baffled by it. “Come here, Donovan.” Roxanne crawled over to him. She eased her hand up his thigh in an attempt to arouse him like before, but Donovan didn’t react to Roxanne’s frustration. He would be all over her when she hinted at sex. Something bothered him. “Donovan, are you okay? What’s wrong? Did I-did I upset you somehow?”

Roxanne shivered when Donovan looked over at her with his signature cold, dark eyes. The exact look he gave his victims before he killed them. The lack of emotion in his eyes seemed to pierce Roxanne through her sternum. “I want to the truth, Roxanne. Don’t lie to me either.” He warned her. “Why are you here?” No one cheated. No one was abused. Roxanne and Donovan were in a happy and healthy relationship as he recalled. Not even his homicidal nature disturbed her. So, what reason did she have to bother him after almost a decade? The question had bothered him since their reunion in the basement of Old Hall. Donovan never saw eye to eye with Eleanor on anything. The one thing he could agree upon with his deranged cousin was that Roxanne had some motive. Their brief moment apart after reaching the estate gave Donovan much needed clarity. He wanted an answer.

Roxanne withdrew her touch and looked away. Deciding not to beat around the bush with her answer, she told Donovan the truth as demanded. “Vivianne Hightower…” Donovan’s stern expression morphed into a confused look.

How is Christian Hightower’s daughter involved?

Roxanne, tearing up, looked back at Donovan. “Vivianne is our daughter. She’s not a Hightower, not by blood or birth. She’s an Aschermann and a Morgenstern.”

Donovan took a second to process what was said. Roxanne’s words repeated over and over inside his head. The shock gradually wore off. Donovan’s bewildered eyes widened until they couldn’t anymore. He slid across the sofa, closing the space between them. “Y-you’re serious?” She reconfirmed with a nod of her head. “You’re not lying to me, are you Roxanne?” Donovan raised his voice slightly. He grabbed onto her. “Are you-are you telling me the truth right now?” The revelation hit him like a face to a stone wall.  “Wha-what did you…?” Donovan shoved her away from him. He jumped quickly to his feet, pacing back and forth, scratching his head.

Hordes of intense emotions after intense emotions bombarded Donovan at once. Rage and heartbreak prevailed over the others. Donovan, on the verge of blacking out, tried calming his emotions. If he blacked out, he would have been standing over Roxanne’s dead body. The sinister expression on Donovan’s face had Roxanne frightened. The fearful woman moved out of arm’s reach in case he snapped on her.

The next question that came from Donovan’s mouth was, “Why? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me about our daughter?” With every question, Donovan raised his voice another decibel. He approached Roxanne, like a wild animal cornering a rabbit. Donovan ended up stubbing his toe against the coffee table. The physical pain set him off. “Why is my daughter among those damned Hightowers?” He roared with unbridled anger. Donovan threw the coffee table across the room. “Why would you tell me this after seven fucking years, Roxanne?” The woman was huddled in the closest corner, shaking and crying. Her delayed response caused Donovan to escalate. He clapped his hands loudly in her face. “Answer me, Roxanne.”

“Christian and Horatio caught Orion meddling in Silver Hightower affairs. When they found out Orion was working for Alexander, they wanted to kill him. I had to choose Donovan.” She looked up at him with regretful eyes. “My brother or my daughter…” Every reminder or mention of that poor decision caused her agony. 

Donovan shook his head, unsatisfied with the answer. In denial, he was unable to believe any part of Roxanne’s story. He accused her of having an affair with Christian. “He wouldn’t leave Rosalind, would he? Huh? Is that-? Is that why you broke up with me?” His dark expression contorted further. “I wasn’t him. I wasn’t the man you truly wanted to be with.”

The brazen accusation ran off Roxanne’s fear. She cursed at Donovan. He wouldn’t insult her, no matter how pissed he was with her. “Vivianne isn’t Christian’s. Her real father is you. After what was done to my family, do you really believe I would ever stoop that low out of desperation to sleep with any of them?” Roxanne snapped viciously at Donovan, offended. She wanted to vomit at the thought. “I’ve always loved you, Donovan. You should know that more than anyone. Hell, even Eleanor saw that. I told my parents often when we were tweens how much I wanted to marry you. I didn’t want anyone else but you, and that still hasn’t changed.”

Roxanne intended to leave Wych Elm for good, regardless of what became of her brother, when she discovered her pregnancy. She couldn’t bring her daughter up in the same deplorable place that robbed her of her parents, her family, and her wealth. She further revealed to Donovan that she thought it was selfish to ask him to abandon his family and responsibilities which was why she kept her pregnancy a secret. “I was only looking out for you and your family.” She struck the wall out of frustration.

Donovan’s eyes and expression softened. “You were wrong, Roxanne.” He told Roxanne he would have happily abandoned his family, his home, and his place among the High Families to live a quiet life with Roxanne and Vivianne. Donovan never cared for any of it when he realized Wych Elm and its High Families were nothing more than a prison. He always wanted out. “If you had told me everything from the start, then maybe-maybe I could have prevented this somehow… I-I know the Hightowers have never cared too much for the Aschermanns, but maybe… Maybe there was something I could have done so you didn’t have to give up our child.” Roxanne found his words unlikely. Somebody would have suffered the consequences. The Hightowers cared neither for the Aschermanns, Lightwoods, nor DeSanguis. They would have used Donovan’s taboo relationship with Roxanne to annihilate his family as they did hers.  “She-she was my daughter too.” Donovan completely broke down and collapsed to the floor. He struck his fists against the carpet. “Vivianne…was my daughter too!” The man buried his face in the seat of the couch and continued crying.

The words and emotions of her lover felt like a two ton weight on Roxanne’s shoulders. She always believed she had been protecting the man she loved, never stopping to wonder how Donovan would have felt about everything. Roxanne felt like a horrible human being. Sharp pains of guilt tore through her chest and stomach. She held tightly onto the bathrobe, wanting to curl up and die in that corner. Roxanne never meant to cause Donovan more pain than she intended. Watching him reduced to a sobbing body on the floor reminded Roxanne of the day she gave Vivianne over to Christian and Horatio. She remembered watching in helpless despair as they walked out of the door with her baby. As their black vehicle disappeared into the evening. Roxanne cried, screamed, wallowed, and clawed at the floor of her dusty living room, begging for them to bring her back. She had a horrifying realization: she was just like Orion. Her actions caused the people she loved to suffer.  “I-I-I… I’m so sorry, Donovan,” was all Roxanne could tell him. What happened, happened. The situation couldn’t be fixed. Roxanne could only apologize and leave. “I’ll-I’ll go now. I won’t bother you… I won’t bother you any longer…” Roxanne promised she would leave Donovan alone for good. Once she walked out of that door, he would never have to see her again.

Roxanne eased around Donovan and headed to the bathroom to dress. When she opened the door, he pulled it closed. She kept her head down, feeling unworthy and unable to look him in the eyes. Donovan pulled Roxanne into his body and soothed her with a back rub. “Don’t leave me, Roxanne.” He begged her to stay. Donovan couldn’t watch Roxanne leave a second time knowing that she was the mother of his child. “I want you to stay the night with me.” He nuzzled his nose into her neck. Roxanne had chosen her fragrance wisely. He was enamored by the scent of Azure Breeze which he felt matched Roxanne perfectly. Donovan became calmer and settled with his lover in his arms.

“Donovan, are you sure?” Roxanne’s arms wound slowly around his torso. She buried her face into his shoulder, crying silently. Donovan forgave Roxanne and wouldn’t hold the decision over her head no matter how much he was hurting. Roxanne did what she did out of love for her brother. He understood that even though Orion didn’t deserve sympathy for forcing his sister into a difficult position.

Donovan instead placed the blame upon himself and Christian. “This is my fault, Roxanne. I-I didn’t make you feel comfortable enough to come to me for help. I wasn’t the safe space you needed me to be.” The couple’s hold on one another tightened. Donovan hoisted Roxanne up onto his hips and carried her over to the bed where he laid her down gently. He pulled at the belt of her robe, freeing Roxanne’s body from the fabric’s bonds. Donovan stripped down first. She looked Donovan up and down, hungry and ready for his touch. Breathing heavily, he crawled on top of her. “You’re absolutely beautiful, Roxanne.” He told her while running his hand through her hair. Roxanne and Donovan reaffirmed their love for one another and made love.

Donovan pulled the sheet over the sleeping Roxanne’s shoulders. He missed watching her sleep after sex. She always had an ethereal glow around her, like a star. Donovan kissed Roxanne’s forehead. He left her in bed and walked over to the window to reflect. Too much was on his mind to sleep.

 

Roxanne was greeted by the dawn of a new day when she opened her eyes. “It’s really morning?” She asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Roxanne looked at the clock; it was six in the morning. Seven hours had gone by, which amazed her. She thought she had only slept a mere two hours. Either way, Roxanne felt well rested.

“One of the maids will be here with breakfast in a moment.” Donovan informed Roxanne from his desk; he was on the computer. “You’re also welcome to stay as long as you want. Don’t feel pressured to leave just because of Eleanor. I control this section of the house.” Overjoyed by the extension of her stay, Roxanne fell backwards onto the pillow. “One day soon, you, Vivianne and I will have meals together as a family.” She immediately popped back up.

“Come again?” Donovan told Roxanne he would handle the matter with the Silver Hightowers regarding their daughter. “Donovan…? What are you doing?” Roxanne, puzzled, crept up from behind. He grabbed her hand and kissed it tenderly.

“I discovered why Rosalind Hightower couldn’t have children of her own. I’ve never had her as a patient myself, but I know she’s been seeing Kira for years.” Kira was Donovan’s and Eleanor’s relative, and an OB/GYN. Donovan had Rosalind’s medical chart pulled up. He combed over her medical history while Roxanne slept. “Here.” He pointed. Roxanne leaned down and read Rosalind’s H&P. Fibroids. She had been dealing with the medical issue since she was in her late teens. “Now look over here.” Donovan slid his finger over.

“…scheduled…hysterectomy?” Roxanne read aloud. Over the last two years, Rosalind’s fibroids started to cause her unbearable pain and discomfort.

Roxanne frowned and placed her hands atop Donovan’s shoulders. “It’s too risky.” She had lost enough loved ones already. Roxanne couldn’t lose Donovan next. “Christian will immediately suspect you of foul play if you do the surgery.” Her grip on his shoulders tightened anxiously. Roxanne loved her daughter and wanted nothing more than to be reunited with her but not at the expense of Donovan’s life. Love made some people commit violent acts.

Donovan looked up at Roxanne with a hopeful smile. He stroked her arms up and down. “I’m not the one who’s going to be doing her surgery.” When she asked who the surgeon would be, Donovan put a finger to his lips. It was a secret. The less Roxanne knew, the easier it was to keep her safe. “The only thing I need you to do, is start looking at cities for us to move to.” She was welcomed to choose their house.

Roxanne was taken aback by what he told her. “Donovan. Are-are you sure about this? Maybe you should sleep on this a few more nights.” Donovan pulled Roxanne into his arms and cradled her.

“Yes, I’m sure about this Roxanne.” He stared intensely into her eyes. Donovan had made up his mind and was certain about the decision. “I don’t care about this worthless town or my place among the High Families. I never have.” Donovan was content with leaving Wych Elm with Roxanne and Vivianne. His lack of purpose always held him back from leaving. Finally, he had a purpose. “We’ll never have to see that bitch Eleanor again. Though she’ll be more than excited to see me go, more than myself.” Donovan promised Roxanne he would take her and Vivianne far away from Wych Elm. Christian, Horatio, or any of the other Silver Hightowers would never find them. He and Roxanne could finally get married. They could live a quiet life with their daughter and any other children they decided to have.

Roxanne wanted to scream from excitement. No more Wych Elm. No more Christian and Horatio. No more High Families. She could pick up the remnants of her life and move forward. She could finally live the life she had always envisioned. After what felt like a lifetime of suffering and darkness, Roxanne would finally get her happy ending. “Wait. What about Lucia? Are you-are you going to say something to her about all this?” She asked, caressing his cheek. Roxanne was familiar with their friendship and knew how much they meant to one another.

The decision to tell Lucia or not didn’t really matter. Donovan knew she would never forgive him for leaving her.  She was the type who held grudges, always had. The thought of their friendship coming to an end left Donovan defeated and sullen. But he couldn’t allow the dissolution of their friendship to weigh him down or deter him from leaving. Although he loved Lucia like she was his sister, Roxanne and Vivianne were his actual family. His love for them outweighed his love for Lucia. And that would never change whether in that life or the next one. Donovan wished he could persuade Lucia to come with them. He believed she would be happier far away from Wych Elm. Sadly though, Lucia’s desire to be seen and accepted by the High Families meant more to her than Donovan. They wouldn’t be able to meet each other halfway. In the end, Lucia and Donovan had no choice but to go their separate ways. 

 

Author's Note: I want to make another clarification. The events in this chapter take place concurrently with the events in the previous chapter. All of this is happening at the same time around Wych Elm. As I type this, I should probably add the dates and times at the beginning (i.e:  9:45 pm May 15th, Aschermann Estate). I'll go back and do it at a later date when I get the chance. 

Chapter 13 is about...maybe 60% done. I plan to spend the next two days trying to get it finished, edited, and published so, it may take some time before it goes live. I want to publish another 4-5 chapters before I take another hiatus from this series. I really want to work on some other stories/series' in my catalogue. Thanks for reading!