Chapter dedicated to AmayaRaines for showing me the awesome photo above!! THANK YOU <3

++ C H A P T E R | F Ø U R T Y - T H R E E ++

Brent felt his throat close up. Looking at the police force and the girl with the drawing pad, he realized that saving Elliott and his own two siblings was indeed possible. If his siblings were alive.

He watched as Keith was handcuffed, and then Wes. He paid close attention to the girl with purple hair, who was staring at her father with clear disdain. It had shocked him when she'd taken complete control of the situation, placing the gun to her own father's head. But what shocked him even more was when Wes had listened to her.

Wes, the boy who had trampled all over Elliott's trust and brought her here to die, listened to his sister. And saved her. What made his head spin even more was that Wes and Elliott were siblings as well. In this strange family dynamic, Brent wasn't all too sure what was going on. How Elliott, Wes, and the girl with purple hair could all be related.

It was shocking.

Kenzie felt the same way. Related? To Elliott? She had felt a connection to the girl when they first met. A connection that Kenzie couldn't explain. She had instantly known Elliott was a girl, and sometimes Kenzie thought it was because of the crazy connection she had to Elliott. Now, finding out the two were siblings, the connection didn't shock her.

She had a sister. And a brother. She wondered if Elliott knew.

"Dad, I really hate you." She spat at Keith. "I know we never got along, but this was too much. I'm glad you never introduced me to my brother. Thanks for that. Thanks for fighting for me, by the way. Mom always told me you were a flake, but now it's so obvious."

Keith just stared at his daughter. He hated how his stomach twisted at the sight of her. How different she was from him. He'd always loved Kenzie, there was no doubt about that, but he had a deadly job. One that would have gotten Kenzie killed long before now. It would have also gotten Wes killed, if he hadn't been in on it.

Wes. Your only son, put in jail. Because of you. Keith hated the thought of his son locked up. Even more than the thought of being locked up himself.

He caught sight of Anna, and shuddered. He didn't deserve to even think about the woman he'd been tricking for weeks, but he was human. And if circumstances were different, he would have loved to actual date her. At first, it had been a job. Having to go see her, and talk to her about her problems. It had been tiring, obnoxious, the worse part of his job. But, she had grown on him. And the last few weeks had made him fall for the woman who cared so much about others.

Maybe if you hadn't screwed everything up! He groaned, placing his head in his hands. No one was even supposed to die!

He hadn't signed up for that. Sure, as an assassin, he'd killed plenty of people. But when Mary had contacted him, she had said there was no killing. Just kidnapping. But the crazy woman had changed her mind.

Like always. She's the monster I created! He couldn't argue with that train of thought. He had created the monster upstairs, who was currently with Elliott. Doing who knows what. She had been fine for a while. Sure, his abuse hadn't helped, and having her live most of her life in a basement had been very damaging to her. But, she had always been very timid, not aggressive.

Until his father got out of jail, and ruined everything. Until she found out her beautiful children were his, and not Theodore's.

She had gone ballistic. And her sister had never helped matters. But in the end, it was his fault Mary was the way she was. But as a teenager in love, Keith didn't know any better. He had grown up treating her as a pet. He was used to teaching her a lesson.

If only he hadn't screwed up so much.

Now, he was going to jail, where he would never see Elliott or Kenzie ever again. Maybe not even Wes.

"I'm not going to ask again. Where is this woman?" The girl stood in front of him, the picture in his face. The drawing was the spitting image of Mary.

He had nothing to lose. "Upstairs, with three others." Almost as if it was on cue, a scream echoed through the house. He instantly recognized it as Elliott, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

Brent flinched.

Adrian and Mat stood rigid.

Anna let out a sob.

Wes and Kenzie looked at each other, as if silently communicating that their sister was in pain, in danger, and needed help.

Brent pushed to the front. "Where the fuck is she?" He demanded from Keith. "I need to go see her. Tell me where-"

"The police will handle that." Polly said, her tone of voice ending the questioning. She clearly meant business, and her flat expression proved that she was doing her job, and he wasn't supposed to interfere.

"You don't understand. I really need to see Elliott-"

Polly put a hand on his shoulder. "You will, after the police deal with the issue. For now, all of you are coming to the station. We have a lot to work out." She turned back to the others on the police force. "Uncle, I'll gather them and bring them down. You find the woman and those kids."

Polly's uncle nodded, and said something on his radio in code. She turned back towards the assorted group of people, recognizing only Kenzie. The girl from school who had been somewhat of a role model for her.

Polly hadn't expected to see her here, involved in this case.

Another scream rang through the house, and this time, Polly's uncle ran up the basement stairs, ready to deal with the issue.

Things were about to get serious, and Polly had a job to do. So, she stopped staring at Kenzie and rounded up the gang.

* * *

Elliott struggled in the chair. Mother had somehow gotten control of the situation, and strapped Elliott down. And now, she was dealing with the pain from the whips. A pain she hadn't felt in a long while.

Elliott closed her eyes - she needed to think straight. She needed to get out of this chair, and out of this house. She needed to call the police.

Another crack of the whip had her yelling out in pain. This time, on her stomach. Her eyes blazed with anger as she looked up at Mother, calculating how much longer she had to suffer through this. How much longer until Mother was satisfied.

But, Elliott knew better than to hope. She knew Mother was relentless, and would stop at nothing.

It hadn't taken much to get Elliott in the chair. Once again, her heart was too big for her own good. All it had taken was a little bit of threatening towards Brent's siblings, who had been in the room the entire time. Elliott had believed it would be safer for them if she could look over them; she had no idea where Keith and Wes were, and she feared that if they found the kids, everything would be over.

But now, she was strapped into the chair, and the kids were being forced to watch. As if they hadn't been traumatized enough by being kidnapped, now they were being forced to watch abuse take place.

Elliott opened her eyes again, waiting for the next blow, but was surprised to find Mother standing by the closet. Then, shock sunk in, because Elliott realized that she was near the kids.

"Mother, come back here!" Elliott screached, struggling against the restraints. "Don't you dare touch those kids!"

I need to save them. I need to protect them! Elliott felt like they were Mat and Adrian, all over again. She felt the need to keep Mother away, to keep them alive and unharmed. They are all Brent has left, if he's not already dead. I can't let them get hurt!

The sound of a cry came from Eric, the toddler, and Elliott felt red hot fury sink into her veins. She couldn't care less if Mother was hurting her, but she had enough of Mother bullying others.

Elliott had been strapped in the same bed for years. She knew the ins and outs, especially after Mother taught her how to strap in victims. A lesson Elliott had once detested, but now it was coming in handy.

She knew how to work the leather straps, how to make them bend to her will. They were old leather, old enough to make them have some leeway.

Elliott bent her right wrist at an unnatural angle, ignoring the pain that shot up her arm at the gesture. She wiggled her wrist again when Eric screamed, and the fear of the unknown kept Elliott on edge. She couldn't see what Mother was doing to them. She couldn't see anything but the ceiling.

Another twist and Elliott felt the snap of her wrist as it gave out. She flinched against the bed, tears immediately making their way to her eyes. The scream she trapped in her throat, though. It took of her willpower to do so, and the excruciating pain made Elliott see black spots for a moment.

She had felt pain before. This wasn't anything new. A broken wrist was nothing compared to the countless broken legs and ankles Elliott suffered from Mother. But, it did make getting out of the chair that much more difficult.

She took in a ragged breath, then she wiggled her fingers. The slight movement brought a fresh batch of tears to her eyes, but she had to power through. She moved her hand again, trying to get a hold of the buckle that held the strap together. She concentrated on the sounds of Eric's cries, and the thought of her entire family dead.

Everyone is dead because of me. I can't give up now.

She saw flashes of Adrian and Mat, the way their faces lit up when they first met Anna. The way Adrian stuck up for Elliott, and the way that Mat had overcome the speech impediment he once had. The way that they flourished away from Mother.

Elliott saw Anna, the woman who adopted them when she had only wanted Mat at first. The way she sucked it up and dealt with Elliott's moodiness and anger. The way she supported all of them without second thought. The way she was a real mother.

She saw Brent, the boy who had once been her bully. The way he got angry when Elliott first talked to Natasha. The way he called her pretty boy, and how Elliott liked the nickname now. The way he smiled when Elliott scored a goal, always silently cheering her on. The way he accepted the fact that she was a girl in the ambulance. Elliott's chest constricted as she pictured the boy who meant so much to her dead. Because of her.

She saw Natasha, the redhead who had accepted her at the beginning of the school year. The girl who made Brent be friendly. The girl who didn't deserve this to happen to her, especially because she had no clue Elliott was even a girl.

And then Elliott saw Kenzie, the girl who Elliott had just met. The girl that made Elliott want to accept her gender and become more girly. Kenzie, the complete and utter badass that made Elliott feel more strength in her own situation.

Elliott needed to save them. She needed to get back at Mother for everything, because they suffered. Suffered because Elliott was too much of a coward to call the police on Mother. Suffered because Elliott was so messed up.

She drew her fingers to the buckle and tried to find the catch that kept her arm tied down. It took a few tries and many tears to finally unbuckle it.

She wanted to cry with relief, but she couldn't. Not when Mother was clearly occupied with abusing Eric in the closet. She was growing more anxious at to what Mother was doing. It drove her crazy, not knowing.

Elliott brought her broken wrist to her other arm, and unlatched the buckle. Sitting up, she scanned the room, finding Mother dangling Eric upside down, holding onto his ankle. The sight made Elliott want to vomit, because Mother had done that to her, too. Waited until Elliott felt lightheaded before dropping her. It was a game.

Elliott couldn't believe she had gotten out of the bed. She couldn't believe Mother had been so naive, which only meant one thing.

She was waiting for Elliott to escape.

When Elliott grabbed her hair and yanked back, Mother dropped Eric. Then, she spun around, a proud smile lighting up her features. "My little skeleton boy has escaped. Finally. What took you so long?"

Elliott balled her left hand into a fist, and while it wasn't her dominant hand, she swung at Mother's face, landing a blow. It only made Mother laugh with glee as she towered over Elliott with dominance. But, Elliott wasn't backing down. She grabbed the whip in her left hand and gripped it tight.

"Leave these kids out of it, Mother. It's just you and I."

Mother snorted in agreement as she pushed a crying Eric out of the way with her foot. And while Elliott felt the need to rescue the kids flare up inside, she knew she had to handle Mother first.

Elliott narrowed her eyes. Her body felt free when it wasn't constrained in all the clothes she constantly had to wear. With her tattooed arms on display and her chest free of contrictions, Elliott felt free. She felt like she could finally be herself.

She brought the whip down, feeling pleasure ripple through. That was for Mat.

Mother countered the whip, but Elliott dodged it swiftly, sending the whip at her legs. That was for Adrian.

Elliott sent a swift kick to Mother's stomach before she could react to the whip to the legs. Mother stumbled back, surprised, but not deterred.

Elliott felt the sting of the whip on her arm, but she ignored it. Just like she ignored the red hot pain in her wrist. Now wasn't the time to be weak.

She sent a whip to Mother's face, watching as it cut open her forehead. That was for Brent.

Not letting Mother up, she pushed her back towards the bed. She kept up the repetitive action of whipping and pushing until Mother was standing up against the bed, nearly defenseless. For once, Elliott saw the look of fear on Mother's face. A look that didn't suit her, but made Elliott pause for a moment.

Mother has never been afraid.

"Elliott," Mother's voice was soft, softer than it ever had been before. So soft Elliott felt like the woman in front of her wasn't actually her Mother, but an impersonator.

"Elliott, I love you, darling. Please don't do this. I'm the only one who has ever looked out for you. I'm the only one who has ever accepted the fact that you enjoy this. No one else will, Elliott. Only a mother can. And I do."

Elliott's breath caught in her throat. These were the words Elliott had always been waiting for. These were the words Elliott imagined countless times. The words that had kept Elliott from ever reporting Mother.

From the start, Elliott had only wanted love. And now, she was finally hearing the words she had always dreamed of hearing from Mother.

"Love me?" Elliott couldn't stop the tremble in her voice. She knew it couldn't be real - she knew this - but she had been waiting for so long.

"Yes, my little skeleton boy. I love you so much. Everything I've ever done to you was out of love. And when you ran from me, Elliott, it killed me inside. You ran from me, and I've been trying so hard to get you back. I'm so very proud of you. Please, don't leave me again."

Elliott crammed her eyes shut. She doesn't mean this! She's lying to you! She killed everyone you love! But, Elliott couldn't convince herself that Mother was bad. She felt her oversized heart begin to feel guilt - guilt that Elliott left Mother all along. Guilt that Elliott ran away.

She had longed for the love of a mother. She had always worked hard to make Mother proud, and now she was.

"Why did you kill my friends?" Elliott's voice trembled again.

"Because Elliott my dear, you belong to me. All of you. And your so called friends would never understand you. Tell me, Elliott, do they know you love this? The feel of a whip in your hands? The rush you get at the sound of a wounded animal? They would never accept you like I do."

Elliott couldn't breathe. She knew that her friends wouldn't accept it. Even she hadn't accepted it, but hearing Mother say it had made Elliott feel like she didn't belong with them. That she belonged right here, in this house, beside this woman.

"Come on, my little skeleton boy. What do you saw we strap down this little boy and show him love. This is how we love, Elliott."

Elliott looked at Eric, crying against the wall. There was blood on his face, from the fall, and he looked utterly defenseless. And Elliott's heart went out for the child, recalling a time when she herself felt that pain.

She didn't want to strap Eric to the bed. She didn't want that at all. But, she wanted Mother to be proud, and she wanted Mother to say I love you again.

Elliott cleared her head. What are you even thinking? You don't need Mother. All you need are your friends, who she's killed.

Before Mother could take another step, Elliott pushed her onto the bed. "I'm not falling for your lies! You never loved me, Mother! Never! And I won't let you get away with killing the people who did love me."

Mother opened her mouth, but Elliott grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her back up onto the bed. Mother let out a yelp of pain and surprise, but her overall struggling was minimal. Like she's been waiting for this! Elliott seethed.

Mother didn't put up a fight when Elliott strapped her in. Nor did she say anything; Mother watched Elliott do everything with a smug smile.

Elliott grabbed the whip once again. "You are a nasty person, Mother. You've turned me into this monster. You made me kill dad, you manipulated me countless times, and you've killed everyone I've ever cared about. And now, you will pay."

Elliott brought down the whip. Again, and again, and again. Until her arm grew tired, and the sharp ache in her broken wrist forced her to stop and take a break. It was agonizing, watching Mother smile through the entire ordeal. Like she was enjoying the pain.

"My little skeleton boy, you will never make me unhappy. I am proud of you, even now."

Those words drove Elliott insane. She didn't want Mother's pride. She wanted Anna's love and pride. She wanted Adrian and Mat's love and pride. She even wanted Brent's love and pride.

But Mother's? Elliott wanted nothing to do with that.

She staggered back, frustrated. And before she could do anything more, the door banged open, and a man in uniform barged in.

"Police! Put your hands where I can see them!"

Elliott dropped the whip immediately and looked over to Brent's siblings, who she had almost forgot about. Eric had stopped crying, but the blood was still on his face. In his arms was the baby, tucked away and sleeping. The sight made Elliott have violent flashbacks of her own past, where she was the toddler with Adrian in her arms. She never wanted another soul to go through what she did. She never wanted anyone to suffer ever again.

"You're Elliott, correct?" The police officer asked, and Elliott nodded hastily. She felt her heart hammer in her chest, but Elliott wasn't afraid. She was thankful, hopeful.

If the police were here, then maybe everyone was alright.

Maybe.

* * *

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