But it wasn’t. My terror was real. My trauma immense and all-consuming.
I became a true beast that night. Wild and unpredictable, even to myself.
And when they brought me back to my cell, I fell apart. I broke down and sobbed long into the night.
That was my hell for two long years.
Every night that I was forced to perform, the beast came out.
The skits were different each time. I never knew what to expect. Goliath liked to surprise me, keep me on my toes so my trauma was real. To give the crowd the best entertainment. Goliath preyed on my phobia, using it to his advantage.
I soon became his best-selling act.
The first time I tried to refuse, Goliath warned if I didn’t give the people a show, then he would lock a dog in my cage with me and let the beast eat me alive.
It was either perform. Or die.
So I performed.
I could have easily perished in that dank warehouse cell.
But I was Adrik Volkov. The dark wolf.
I was a fighter. So I persevered. I gave them a fucking show.
And all the while, I began planning my escape.
After two years of hell, I finally succeed.
I slowly turned my head and met Annika’s rapt stare.
“How did you escape?” she asked breathlessly.
I snorted. “Goliath brought me into his office one night. He said I was making him a rich man and I deserved a reward. He opened a bottle of whiskey and shared it with me while his guards waited outside of the room. I drank his fucking whiskey. I pretended to like it. Then I killed Goliath with his own cane. I snatched it from his grasp and beat that motherfucker until his head was a disgusting, unrecognizable blob. Then I opened the door and ran like hell, the guards chasing after me. Once I was outside, I managed to slip away. The next day I made an anonymous phone call to the cops, giving them the location of the warehouse. I watched from an alley as they stormed the place and freed all the prisoners, ending Goliath’s sick freak show.”
Silence settled around us.
“And then you went back to get your brother?” Annika guessed.
I swallowed hard, closing my eyes. “No. I wasn’t the same boy I’d once been. Not even close. I was a wild animal, unpredictable. A true beast. I couldn’t be anywhere around Damien at that point in time. I needed to fix myself first. So I took to the streets, living off dumpster food and sleeping under bridges. Eventually I got my head on straight and tried to find a job, but no one would hire an ogre. Finally, I convinced a gym owner to teach me how to fight in exchange for janitorial services. The fighting helped me focus. It taught me to channel my emotions and helped me build self-confidence. It helped me control the rage. But it was two years later that Sacha hired me. After that, I started getting my shit together. And finally, I had everything I needed to take care of my brother. Only, it was too late.”
I blew out a breath, again closing my eyes. My heart squeezed. “The day I signed the lease on my new apartment was the day Sacha told me Damien had died in a house fire a few nights before.”
“Oh, no!” Annika’s eyes welled with tears. “Oh, Adrik.” She squeezed my hand.
“He was fifteen. He died thinking I’d abandoned him. And that kills me. I took too fucking long. If I’d only gone back for him sooner, he would be alive today.”
Annika hugged me. Hard. “It wasn’t your fault, Adrik. You can’t blame yourself.”
Oh, but I did. I’d made mistakes that I couldn’t go back and change. Mistakes that had cost me so much.
I hadn’t realized how badly I’d needed to hear that. Or how freely it felt to finally tell someone that story so I could get it off my chest. I’d kept that secret inside me for too many years. I slowly wrapped my arms around her, hugging her back.
I’d just shared my horrifying past with this woman. And she hadn’t rejected me.
Finally, I let her go and leaned back.
She cautiously met my stare. “And your father? Have you seen him since?”