Chapter Fifty Three

Chapter 53

Marcus deftly etched his name into Damien’s back, each stroke, deliberate and cruel, as the anguished yelps of his victim filled the air like a haunting melody. Jemima stood close, her heart racing, feeling the raw hatred radiating off of Marcus- it was almost palpable that it enveloped them both.

In moments like this, Jemima often forgot that Marcus was not just her twin brother but the godfather- a master of torment and torture whose skills were as refined as they were terrifying.

Once he finished, Marcus stepped back to admire his handiwork, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he cackled with delight.

“It’s exhilarating Jem! You should try it,” he urged, his eye glinting with a manic energy. Though part of her considered forgiveness for the people who ruined her, the darker side of Jemima relished the chance to inflict suffering on those who had robbed her of her innocence.

With a steady hand, Jemima printed her name against Damien’s skin, feigning ignorance to his cries and screams of agony, while Marcus heated another rod ready for his turn. They took turns, each marking their captives with a twisted sense of artistry, their laughter mingling with the desperate pleas for mercy from their captives.

“They look so beautiful,” Jemima cooed, stepping back to admire their gruesome masterpiece, her heart a chaotic blend of exhilaration and dread as they reveled in the suffering they had wrought.

“This is not enough; we will be back tomorrow,” Marcus declared, his voice low and menacing as he glared at the trio writhing in pain before them.

As they exited the red room, Jemima led Marcus towards the garden, desperate to inhale the fragrant blooms that would soothe her frayed nerves after the brutal exercise of torturing the people she once considered family.

“Marcus, can I talk to you for a bit?” Jemima asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“There is something I have to tell you,” they both began simultaneously, laughter bubbling up between them, a brief moment of levity amidst the darkness they had just come out from.

“You go first,” Jemima urged, but Marcus shook his head negatively, his secret a heavy burden that he was not willing to share just yet.

“Ladies first,” he insisted with a playful wink dancing across his lips.

“Just promise me you won't get mad,” Jemima pleaded, glancing at Marcus with hopeful eyes which caused Marcus to raise his brows suspiciously.

He didn’t want to push it so he answered, “Yes, of course.” his voice was low and guttural, a hint of unease lurking beneath the surface as he squinted against the sweltering afternoon sun that beat down mercilessly.

“For the longest time, I harbored a ton of resentment for you,” Jemima began, her voice trembling with emotions. “I thought you had abandoned me, left me to face the darkness alone. It wasn’t until you reappeared, your words like a balm to my wounded heart that I began to understand your side of the story…”

Jemima paused, her gaze flickering to Marcus, searching for a glimmer of understanding in his eyes, but his expression remained stoic, betraying nothing of the turmoil he was feeling within.

“What are you driving at?” Marcus asked, his lips pursed tightly as if holding back a flood of emotions threatening to spill over.

“I was furious with you, Marcus,” Jemima confessed, her voice barely a whisper. “It was only when I found the strength to forgive you that I realized I was freeing myself from the chains of my bitterness.”

“Where are you going with this, Jem?” Marcus pressed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, the tension palpable between them.

“I want us to forgive our parents and Ava,” Jemima declared, her voice steadying as she leaned forward, her eyes fierce with determination.



“I want us to let them go.”

Marcus burst into a series of laughter, invariably taking Jemima by surprise. He could not believe what Jemima was spitting from her mouth.

“Wow, Jem! You have got some good jokes up your sleeve. Is this your new form of torture?” Marcus inquired as he wiped off imaginary tears from his eyes.
Jemima kept quiet, observing him intently until his laughter died down.

“Why are you not laughing?” Marcus queried, noting the severity in her facial expression.

“I want us to…”

“I heard you the first fucking time Jemima!” Marcus yelled, taking her by surprise.

“You promised you wouldn’t get angry,” Jemima reminded, causing Marcus to scoff incredulously. His gaze drifted to the sky, trying to quell his rising temper. Maybe Jemima was playing a sick joke on him.

“That was before I knew this! Fuck!” Marcus screamed, abruptly standing up and kicking a pebble into the pond.

“Marcus, I don’t want to feel this pain anymore.”

Jemima's voice quivered as she stood up to match his stance. She knew what she was asking of him and she knew it wasn’t going to be easy for him, for them both but it had to be done so that they too could stop living with the pain and chains of their past.

“Jemima, are you sure of what you want us to do here? To let them go? After all, they’ve put you through? Put me through? Put us through? Jemima, we spent our whole lives looking for them and you want them to walk freely? Jemima…” Marcus’s voice trailed off.

Godfathers were not known to cry and Marcus was not about to tarnish his well-built reputation.

“This is for us!” Jemima pleaded, reaching for his hand but Marcus shifted away from her, not wanting to believe what she was saying.

“How? I mean, you were fucking raped by your father! I was drowned! We were traumatized as children. I’m losing my…” Marcus halted in his tracks, realizing that he was about to divulge a piece of information that he was not willing to share with Jemima just yet.

“Fuck!” Marcus yelled, glancing into the sky, releasing pent-up emotions as tears ran down his cheeks.

“I didn’t say it was going to be easy and I didn’t say we’d do it right away. I’m not trying to force you to forgive them as the forgiveness itself must come naturally. I’m ready to forgive them and would like to let them go, it’s time I take responsibility for my feelings and stop trying to make others tiptoe around the triggers of my trauma but if you’re not ready to settle your differences and make peace with your past, it’s fine.”

“You were hunting for them for so long. You wanted this, what changed?” Marcus queried, seeking clarity. He wanted to understand why she suddenly had a change of heart.

“If you fight with a pig, you’ll both get dirty. Meanwhile, the pig likes dirt,” Jemima recalled the words of Alan, a small smirk dancing across the corners of her lips as she remembered.

At this point, Marcus was beyond livid.

“What does that even mean?”

“Forgiving them for my peace and sanity. I’m done holding on to this hurt,” Jemima said softly, placing her hand on his face and rubbing her thumb across his cheeks in a soothing manner.

“I need some fresh air,” Marcus muttered, excusing himself. Jemima, her eyes glistening with tears, stared at his retreating figure. She knew what she was asking of him was huge but for once in her life, she didn’t feel confused about her decision.

“Hey, Jem!” Alan called out to her, prompting her to turn around and face him. Jemima hurriedly attempted to wipe off the tears that had fallen from her face but Alan had already seen them.

“Is everything okay? I just passed Marcus and he looked enraged,” Alan observed, tucking a loose strand of Jemima’s hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, everything is fine,” Jemima said unconvincingly, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Marcus.

“No, don’t do that. Talk to me, what’s wrong?” Marcus urged, directing Jemima to the bench in the garden.

Jemima inhaled sharply as she closed her eyes momentarily. She allowed some seconds to pass between them, allowing them to enjoy the fleeting silence of the garden. The leaves rustled in the distance, the crickets chirped and the water from the fountain gurgled - all creating a cacophony of sounds.

“I told Marcus that I wanted to let them go,” Jemima finally announced, her voice a huge contrast to the environment.

Alan’s eyes widened in shock as he sat up. He could not believe what he had just heard her say. Finding them and taking revenge had always been Jemima’s goal and now that she had found them, she wanted to let them go.
He found it hard to believe.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Alan, for the first time in twelve years, my heart and my head are in complete agreement. I’ve never felt surer about anything else,” Jemima assured, eliciting a small nod from Alan.

He felt elated, he felt proud. He pulled her in for an embrace and patted her head softly.
They heard a branch snap and stared in the direction of the sound.
It was Marcus.

“Marcus!” Jemima whispered, abruptly standing up to meet him.

“Maybe I too have been holding on to this hurt…” Marcus began, his voice trembling with sheer vulnerability. Alan saw the raw emotions in his eyes and felt sorry for him.

“For what it’s worth, without them, I would never have become the godfather today. Maybe it’s time to let them go.”

“Oh Marcus,” Jemima cooed, grabbing his hand as she stared into his eyes.

“But first, I’d like to get answers from them.”