Chapter 21 | The captors
Pastel dresses, shades of a faded rainbow. Beige suites. Red ties. That was all Lou could see right now. Aside from that, unspoken calamity concealed behind pretty flowers and lost among glinting diamonds.
The day their father died now marked the day Dominic and Cara would get married. Same date, one year apart.
Lou couldn't be more uncomfortable about it. He'd begged them to find another day. But Cara had insisted. Celebration, she'd said. For everything he did to Dom. Is there something wrong, Luciano?
Lou had shut up about it because he didn't feel worthy enough to negotiate. Their father had been a bastard, the same one who'd abused his own brother, so why did he care? He couldn't answer if he tried.
"Dude, congrats!"
Lou felt a hand slap his shoulder. He winced and snapped his head towards the source of the voice. "For what?"
The man in front of him was from Cara's side of the family. "Because your brother's getting married?" The skepticism in his voice popped Lou's trance.
"Oh." Lou laughed awkwardly. "Oh. Right, yeah. I know. Obviously. Thanks. I just... I was thinking."
Lou hoped the man would leave despite the inadequacy. He did, but only after offering a weird look. Cara had still to arrive to the church and then it'd happen. From the corner of his eye, Lou caught Dom standing underneath the flowery arch, awaiting.
Lou didn't notice that the heel of his foot was constantly bouncing against the floor. He felt queasy, like any second and he'd kneel over and vomit.
"Lou?"
Lou turned. Dom was gesturing him over. Lou walked to him, one hand tugging at the black bowtie around his neck.
"Is everything alright?" The frown on Dom's brows was concerned. He reached forwards and took Lou's hand off the tie, then adjusted it again for him. "What's with all the fidgeting?"
You know, Lou thought. He said, "Nothing, Dom. I think I just wasn't expecting you to get married so fast. I'm literally standing in your wedding and I'm still shocked."
"It's been a year."
"...Since our father died."
Dom sighed. "Lou, just relax and forget about it. Who cares? Since when did we ever love him?"
Lou subconsciously mimicked Dom's sigh. Marrying Cara would make Dom happy, right? So if he constantly nagged, tried hurdling it, it meant he was selfish, right?
Right. Lou smiled and turned around just to find the people babbling about the bride's arrival. He stepped aside, beside the rest of the people, first row, a spectator halfheartedly watching unwillingness become a will he couldn't stop.
Cara appeared by the door, arm linked with her father's, white dress trailing behind as she slowly stepped forwards.
When she stepped past Lou's row, she smiled at him and he smiled back but a lingering, subtle repulsion radiated off both sides. Lou swallowed it down; it was his brother's wedding and he didn't want to ruin it.
Lou exhaled. At the head of the church, Dom was standing with tears in his eyes as soon as he saw Cara in the wedding dress.
Cut this shit, Lou thought. It was cute, people would say. And it was, if only he wasn't crying for Cara.
What happened next was a blur. Verses from the Bible. Vows. Cara and Dom holding hands, face to face. Priest rambling but Lou not focused. Then, Lou was called up for a minute. He handed the rings, watched as Dom and Cara wore them.
Lou returned to his place. More Bible readings. Now paper, pen, signing. A part of Lou hoped the ink would drain, anything to stop this. What was with the heat? Was everyone feeling hot or was it just him? He exhaled shakily and watched on.
Then came the worst of all, the confirmation of a nightmare.
"I pronounce you husband and wife."
Whilst everyone applauded, Lou made a small distressed noise and leant a hand on the armrest of the seat behind him. Then his eyes caught Dom's and he quickly straightened and forced himself to clap.
Cara leant closer and pecked Dom's lips. It was their first time but Dom didn't even feel anything. Not when he noticed Lou's pale face and forced behavior, like a puppet holding its own strings.
"Dominic," Cara said, forcing his face her way again with one palm along his cheek. "My husband. Finally."
Dom smiled but it wasn't happy. "Lou... he's not okay." He glanced back at him. "Look at him."
"No." Cara's expression dropped. It turned stern. "Forget about Lou, Dom. For God's sake, it's our wedding. Let us enjoy this."
Lou walked closer. "Congrats, Dom." He leant in for a bro-hug, chin resting on Dom's shoulder. His eyes clashed straight with Cara's but he quickly averted them.
When they pulled apart, Dom kept a hand on Lou's elbow. "Thanks, señor."
"Stop calling me that, Dom. I'm too old for this shit."
"You're just fifteen. You're a child to me."
Lou laughed it off and turned towards Cara. He hated how she always seemed to be staring a bit too hard, almost constantly glaring but in the sweetest way. "Guess he's stuck with you now," he quipped.
Cara's pink-coated lips curled into a sly smile. "He's happy about it."
"And I'm happy if he's happy."
"That's the spirit." Cara curled an arm around Lou, a silent truce. "See, how hard is it to stand by your brother for once?"
Lou nodded awkwardly. He'd be lying if he said all the friendliness he was displaying was genuine. An act, a pretense, just so he wouldn't be the one to ruin his own brother's happiness. Not today, not on his wedding. Perhaps never at this point.
Stepping back, Lou watched Dom and Cara turn to each other again. Dom seemed happy, content. Cara seemed a level higher, ecstatic—green eyes twinkling, lips never curving down. Without her, Dom would be in an asylum.
Asylum. Lou kept reminding himself of that. He owed Cara his brother. He owed Dom his life. He tugged at the neck of his perfectly fitting dress-shirt and swallowed down the unease.
It didn't feel right—everything happening—but he could pretend it did. He could pretend his fifteen-year-old feelings were just a farce. The grown ups knew better than him. They had to.
*_*_*_*_*_*
Lou felt like a piece of shit standing out in a pot of gold right now.
Not that he thought Cara was literal gold, though. He just felt like his intrusion at the moment was impossible to look past. Sitting in the backseat whilst the new couple sat in front, driving home. Dom and Lou's home, but now it was practically Dom and Cara's and Lou was just the side-kick who had nowhere else to go.
Weren't couples supposed to have privacy, especially the night of their wedding? If so, Lou didn't want to imagine what Cara was feeling. Dom had assured him he didn't mind.
As soon as they made it home, Lou stepped out of the car and awkwardly waited as Dom helped Cara out of the car, pulling the train of her dress.
Cara wrapped a hand around Dom's neck, gesturing him to carry her. The kind of jazz that a bride and groom did. Lou wanted to throw up but settled on awkwardly keeping his eyes fixed on the ground.
"We can't, Lou's here," Dom whispered, holding her hand instead. "He's too young. He's gonna feel awkward."
Cara mouthed right and walked with him inside. They stopped at the threshold, glancing back at Lou.
Lou stared back, palms up. "What? Don't look at me like that. I know I'm intruding. If you wanna do gross husband-wife things—" he covered his eyes, speaking with a slightly muffled voice "—then go ahead, I can't see."
Dom would laugh but he could barely bring himself to do it. The image of Lou forcing himself to be happy in the wedding haunted him. "You dirty-minded idiot. We won't do this stuff outside. Get in."
Lou walked past the two and quickly mapped his way to his room. He closed the door and took off the blazer, throwing it roughly aside. As he sprawled down on the bed, heedless of the gel he needed to wash off his hair, he untied his bow and unbuttoned the collar suffocating his neck.
The constriction leveled down but the one in his chest was tenacious. He could joke and laugh but he couldn't push the unease further down his throat. It lingered there. His chest lifted then dropped again hopelessly.
Dom and Cara passed by Lou's room. Dom stood by his door, hand reaching out just so he could check on him but Cara held his wrist, pushing it away.
Just as his hand was down again, her fingers daintily drifted upwards and intertwined with his. "Stop this, he's fine."
Dom didn't look convinced. He didn't answer. He let Cara careen him across the corridor to their bedroom. It was George's, before his death. But they'd completely renovated it for themselves.
Cara seated him on the edge of the bed then sat beside him. She watched his expression. Certainly not as content as he'd been at the wedding. Maybe now he was worrying more about Lou. She reached for his jawline, slowly tracing it.
"What's wrong, Dom? Aren't you happy that we're finally married?"
"I am, Cara." Dom's gaze seemed fixed to the eyeliner's wing along the edge of her eye. "But Lou, he's not happy. These past few months, he's been so... dull. He's not himself anymore and—"
"How many times should I tell you to forget about him? Come on, we're married, Dom. We can do whatever you want. Wasn't that what you wanted?" She pulled herself entirely on the bed, crossing a knee over and around his waist. Her hand pushed his shoulder until he leant back, propping himself on an elbow.
"Take care of yourself for once." Cara's voice was far too mellow, too velvety soft. Almost enchanting. She flattened her palm against his cheek and leant in, lips aligning with his.
Surprisingly, Dom didn't kiss her back. His lips were taut and unwelcoming, pressed together. Cara pulled back, brows furrowed, fingers splaying against his collarbone. "Dom, you wanted this, remember? Remember when you wanted to kiss me but I told you only when we get married? Don't let Lou ruin this. Enjoy it."
She surged in again but Dom angled his chin the other way to cut her off. "I don't want to do this," he said, still facing away. "Not now."
For God's sake stop worrying about him! she wanted to scream in his face but bit down the anger. She said, "Dom, Lou isn't a kid anymore. He can handle himself. And if he can't, it's his fault. Stop ruining your life for him."
Dom finally looked at her again, brown eyes for once dreary. Thunderstorm long on, now just the tragic aftermath.
He didn't protest when she crashed her mouth on his again, even though he wanted to. Even though he wasn't happy and he didn't want to do this.
Cara didn't hold back. She grasped his hair, pulling him gently closer. He tasted like champagne, bitter like regrets. And right then, kissing him like that, feeling his lips soft but sad against hers, she knew she was a replica of her mother.
It was awful, the realization, knowing that Dom didn't want this but still she was clinging to him. He didn't understand. He wouldn't. She needed to distract him. If he kept protecting Lou, Lou wouldn't fall for a mistake.
How could she control him then? If he wasn't vulnerable, why would he succumb?
There was a hierarchy she needed to enforce and she was going to make sure Lou stuck to the lowest level. His rebellion and defiance were danger. She knew how to break it.
It was odd that Lou, sprawled in his room, staring at the ceiling, had no idea Cara was targeting him like that. Nor did he know that what he was about to do was just another oblivious step he'd take in favor of her plan.
Lou couldn't sleep. It was dark outside. Dark like what Dom used to describe the drugs and addiction world as when he was a kid. Dark like death, or half-death.
He found himself trudging over to his drawing table. He settled on the recliner, reaching for the last one he'd drawn. Once, his paintings were vibrant, a reflection of his rowdiness.
But then, day by day, month by month, the colors changed. Red turned mahogany, white turned grey, grey turned black. Pink and yellow were fantasy. Blue was a representation of an ocean, the one sucking him to the bottom.
By day, he was himself. Loud and talkative and charming. By night he was his truest self, the sad kid with rebellion on his mind but barriers restraining him, the artist who conveyed onto papers what he didn't allow himself to acknowledge.
The paper he was looking at right now was a blurry man tearing himself. He didn't know what he was thinking when he'd drawn this. In reality, he hadn't drawn it. His subconscious mind had.
Lou shoved it away and brought out a new paper. He reached for black, the inky one. Elbow against the table, hand in his hair, the other absentmindedly stroking the black pencil along the sheet.
Circles interlocked with circles and intertwined with zigzags until half the page was full. Then, slowly, subconsciously, he spiked out lines, sharp and pointy.
He stared at them. Sharp. Sharp like needles, needles that could prick his skin. Substance that could slither in his blood.
A friend of his had invited him to a party tonight. This kind of offer he'd always declined because it was the type of party that consisted of drunk teens shoving their noses into cocaine or ecstasy or any other drug.
In other words, the type of party Dom would never allow him to go to.
Lou wasn't sure of himself when he stood, pushing the recliner back, and headed stealthily past his room to the front door. There, he peeked back. Dom was busy. Surely he wouldn't care right now.
Lou sneaked outside. The air was tinged with hollow agony, or maybe creeping calamity. Unknowingly to him, the kidnapping wouldn't be the biggest mistake of his life. This was.
*_*_*_*_*_*
this was the initiation of the important incident. It displays one (of the many) factors that led lou to surrendering so its super important!
thanks for reading/voting/commenting! people (understandably) lost interest along the way so i appreciate the ones who've stayed so much <3