Chapter 28 - What I Saw That Night

🚨🚨🚨🚨WARNING READ AT YOUR OWN RISK🚨🚨🚨🚨

JARE POV 

I slowly freed my hand from her grip, careful not to wake her. She stirred for a second, a small whimper escaping her lips, but then she settled back into the pillows. I couldn't stay in that suffocating silence any longer.

I stepped out onto the balcony attached to her room. The London air hit me like a physical blow—sharp, icy, and unforgiving. I didn't care. I pulled out a cigarette, my hands shaking slightly as I flicked my lighter. I took a long drag, the smoke burning my lungs in a way that felt grounded. Real.

Damn it.

How do I stop this? How do I keep the walls from crumbling down?

I leaned against the railing, staring out at the dark city skyline, but I wasn't seeing London. My mind was miles away, years back. I never forgot what I saw that day. 

FLASHBACK 

We were on our way back, finally. It felt like it had been forever.

"Jare, do you think our baby sistah will be happy to see us?" Percy asked, leaning back with that usual grin on his face.

I snorted, checking my reflection in the window. "Happy? Please. Better prep your face, Percy. She's definitely gonna punch us. We didn't talk to her for almost two weeks."

Percy just laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Nah. She might punch you, but I'm way too beautiful. She could never bring herself to hurt a face like this."

I rolled my eyes. Honestly, I didn't know how he did it. "Sometimes I really wonder how you're the oldest among us. You act like a kid."

"Pure talent, Jare. I was born two years before you, remember? That makes me the boss," Percy explained, sounding way too proud of himself.

We were joking around, just two brothers excited to see their little sister and probably get scolded by her for being gone so long. But then, my eyes caught something.

A figure was walking down the sidewalk, fast. She was heading away from a house—a rundown, sketchy-looking place that had no business being in this neighborhood.

"Wait... what the hell? Isn't that Mama Jeana?" I said, my heart suddenly dropping for no reason.

Percy's grin vanished. He followed my gaze and slowly nodded. "Yeah... that's her."

She didn't See us. She was too busy tucking something into her bag, her face cold, her eyes looking everywhere but behind her. She looked like she was escaping.

I didn't know it yet. I didn't know that inside that house, Jay was screaming for help. I didn't know that the woman walking away had just traded our sister's soul for a stack of cash.

But looking back now? That was the last time I ever called that woman "Mama."

"I have a bad feeling. Call Jay-Jay," I said, my voice tight. I couldn't stop staring at the house Jeana had just walked out of. Something wasn't right. The air felt heavy, like the seconds before a storm hits.

Percy pulled out his phone and dialed her number. He waited, his expression neutral. "Nothing. Jare, maybe she's just mad at us, so she's not picking up. You know how she gets."

"No," I snapped, my grip tightening on the door handle. "I can feel it, Percy. There's something wrong."

"Jare, chill. Nothing's gonna happen to her. She's Jay-Jay," Percy said, trying to play the cool older brother, but I could see the slight flicker of worry in his eyes too.

Then, we heard it.

A loud, sharp noise echoed from that abandoned house just ahead. It sounded like something breaking—or someone screaming.

"Let's go and see what's happening there," I ordered. Percy didn't argue this time. He stepped on the gas, drove straight to the front, and we both scrambled out before the engine even stopped humming.

We kicked the door open, the wood groaning on its hinges. The smell of dust and something metallic hit me instantly.

"JAY-JAY!" I yelled, my eyes frantically scanning the dim room.

I saw her.

She was huddled in the corner. I called her name again, but there was nothing. No response. No sassy comeback. Nothing.

My stomach dropped. There were four men scattered across the room, looking dazed and scared, like they were just realizing they were in deep trouble. And then there was a fifth one—he was on the floor, clutching his side, blood pooling underneath him. It looked like he'd been stabbed.

But my focus was on my sister.

Her shirt was torn. There were raw, red scratches on her shoulder, and her hair was a mess. She was staring at nothing, her eyes wide and blank.

"Jay-Jay," I whispered, my voice breaking as I moved toward her.

"Baby sistah? Please, answer us," Percy said, his voice trembling. He sounded just as terrified as I felt.

I reached out, my hand shaking, trying to touch her shoulder to tell her we were there, that it was over—but the moment I got close, she flinched so hard she hit the wall.

Then the crying started. It wasn't just crying; it was a sound of pure, unadulterated terror.

"Please... don't touch me. Please," she sobbed, shrinking away from us. "Please..."

I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest and stomped on. My eyes went red—not from tears, but from the kind of rage that makes you want to burn the whole world down.

"Jay-Jay..."

The men on the floor started to stir. They were trying to get up, trying to find a way to escape before we could wrap our heads around what was happening. The injured one was groaning, but the others were already looking for the exit.

Percy was faster. He blocked the door, his face twisting into something terrifying.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!" Percy roared at them. His voice was like thunder in that small, filthy room.

They didn't answer. They just looked at us with those pathetic, cowardly eyes.

"Jay-Jay, please, answer me," I begged, turning back to her. But she wasn't looking at me. She wasn't seeing her brothers. She was still back in whatever nightmare had just happened.

"Please don't come near me... please don't touch me..." she kept repeating, her voice small and broken, over and over again like a prayer.

Every time she said those words, I felt another piece of myself die

"Jay-Jay, it's me. It's Jare. Hey, look at me... it's your brother," I said, my voice cracking as I begged her to just see me. I couldn't stand that blank, terrified look in her eyes. It was like she was staring right through me at something much worse.

I moved closer, ignoring the way she flinched, and pulled her into a hug. She struggled, her small hands pushing against my chest with a strength born of pure panic, but I didn't let go. I tightened my grip, trying to be the anchor she needed to pull her back to reality.

"Jay-Jay, it's just me. Your brother, Jare," I whispered against her hair. I gently forced her to look at me, my heart breaking into a million pieces at the sight of her trembling lips.

"See? It's just me, Trouble," I said, trying so hard to sound playful, to use that nickname that usually made her roll her eyes. "It's just your annoying brother. I'm here now."

But she didn't see me. Not the Jare who teased her, not the brother she complained about—nothing. Her eyes were just wide pools of nightmare, and the fear was so heavy it was suffocating.

Then, her body suddenly went limp.

"JAY-JAY!" I yelled, my heart stopping as she fainted right in my arms. I caught her before she hit the floor, tapping her cheeks frantically. "Jay! Jay, wake up! Trouble, please!"

"Baby sistah..." Percy's voice came from the door, sounding strangled. He was still standing guard over those four bastards, his knuckles white as he held them at bay.

The rage in my chest was boiling over. I looked at the men, then at my sister's pale, lifeless face.

"Percy, I'm taking her to the hospital," I said, my voice turning into something sharp, cold, and dangerous. "I want these men in a place only we know. Our place. Don't let them out of your sight."

Percy didn't need an explanation. He just nodded, his eyes filled with a dark, murderous intent that matched my own. I picked Jay-Jay up—she felt so light, so fragile, like she could break if I held her too hard—and carried her out to the car.

I didn't think. I didn't breathe. I just drove like a madman to the hospital, one hand on the wheel and the other reaching back to make sure she was still there. 

I practically flew to the hospital. I didn't care about red lights or the speed limit; the only thing that mattered was the pale, silent girl in my backseat. Everything was a blur of adrenaline and the deafening sound of my own heartbeat thumping in my ears.

The moment I arrived, I didn't wait for a gurney. I carried her inside myself, screaming for a doctor, begging someone—anyone—to help her. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely hold her, but I didn't let go until they forced me to.

They rushed her into a room, and the sound of those double doors swinging shut felt like a wall being built between us.

I was left standing in the hallway, the sterile, cold air of the hospital stinging my skin. I moved toward the door, staring through the small glass window. I couldn't look away. Jay-Jay looked so small on that massive hospital bed. So fragile. Like a doll that someone had intentionally tried to break into pieces.

I've never been a religious person. I'm the guy who gets into trouble, the one who doesn't follow the rules, the one who thinks he's too tough for faith. But that night? Standing in that cold, white hallway with the smell of disinfectant choking me?

I became a believer.

I wasn't the guy to pray to God, but that day, I prayed to God. I prayed to every God I knew, every deity I had ever heard of in stories. I made deals with the universe. I offered up my own life, my own luck, my own soul—anything, as long as she opened her eyes.

Please, I whispered, my forehead leaning against the cold glass. Just let her wake up. Don't let her stay in that nightmare. Take it out of her head and give it to me instead.

I would have traded the whole world just to hear her call me 'Trouble' one more time. I would have done anything to take away the look of terror she had right before she fainted.

I stood there, a broken brother praying into the silence, waiting for a miracle that I wasn't even sure I deserved.

Finally, the doctor stepped out. She looked tired, her face etched with that professional pity that I've always hated. It made my stomach flip.

"Who are you to her?" she asked, looking at me over her glasses.

"I'm her twin brother," I said. The word 'twin' felt like it had a thousand pounds of weight attached to it. We were supposed to be halves of a whole, but right now, I felt like the half that failed.

"Follow me," she said.

I followed her into her office, the smell of old paper and medicine making me want to gag. I sat on the edge of the chair, my hands gripped so tight on my knees that my knuckles were white.

"What happened to my sister? Tell me she's okay," I asked, my voice coming out more like a growl than a question.

The doctor sighed, opening a folder on her desk. She didn't look at me for a second, and that's when I knew it was bad.

"Uhm... I don't know how to say this, but your sister… she has suffered severe trauma. Physically, the scratches will heal, and we've treated the bruising on her shoulders. But mentally? Jare, your sister's mind has basically pulled the fire alarm."

She finally looked me in the eye.

"She's in a state of shock so deep that her brain is attempting to delete the memory entirely. It's a defense mechanism. She's awake now, but she's not there. She's regressing. And Jare... there's a high chance that if she can't handle the weight of what happened, she'll forget everything about today. Maybe even more."

I felt like someone had just punched me in the throat. "You mean she won't remember?"

"I mean her brain is protecting her from a reality she can't survive," the doctor explained. "If she wakes up and doesn't know who she is for a while, or if she doesn't recognize you... don't force her. Her mind is trying to save her life."

I sat there, numb. My little sister, the girl who was always so loud and stubborn, was so broken that her own brain was trying to hit the reset button.

I stood up, my legs feeling like lead. I didn't care about the medical terms. I didn't care about "defense mechanisms." Only one thing mattered.

I stepped out of that office and headed straight back to her room. I had to see her. Even if she didn't know who I was, I had to let her know she wasn't alone anymore.

But as I reached the door, I stopped. How was I supposed to look her in the eye knowing I let this happen? How was I supposed to tell her that our mother was the one who threw her to the wolves?

I couldn't.

That was the moment I decided. If Jay-Jay's brain wanted to forget, I'd let it. I would bury the truth so deep she'd never find it. I would be the one to carry the nightmare so she didn't have to.