Impish

CHAPTER 19: THE TRUTH ABOUT DOUG

Doug leaves before I do. I half expect him to look back at me. He doesn't. Still bleeding and still sore, I walk across the warm, oddly-squishy ground. I don't want to think about the implications of that or the lub-dubbing I hear all around me as I leave this place, however temporary that excursion may be. (Hopefully, it isn't temporary at all. Hopefully, I can make a break for it when those who watch me least expect it.)

Jeb holds the door open for me on my way out like it's an act of chivalry. It takes everything in me not to sneer at him as I leave, despite the pain I'm in. He's a mashed, rotten cherry on a shit sundae. No amount of holding open the door or looking human can fool me.

My plan is working exactly as intended. I just needed her to let me out. Now that I'm in the park proper, I can just leave. I just need to get to a point where nobody could grab or stop me. It's not much of a plan, but it's simple enough that it just might work. Jeb isn't following us, so I'm sure that I'll manage to make it.

The door lets us out in the dusty back exhibit of the Bible Experience attraction. I try to walk in front of Doug, just to distance myself from him so that I can fume in peace. Normally, I would outpace him. Because my leg is grievously wounded I'm going slower than I normally would. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get in front of him.

The two of us stand outside the place where I was sold that ice cream bar earlier today. The cart is long gone, replaced by a bench with a clear view of the world outside. I sit on the teal-ish painted metal. Trying to ignore the pain of doing so, I pull my phone out of the front pocket of my purse and dial Roux's number. Out of all the things I have lost, I am grateful that this isn't one of them.

Doug sits down next to me. He looks just as much like a hair metal rockstar as ever, having retreated into his human disguise. He can't fool me, though. I can see through him. I know what he is. I know who he is.

He looks over my shoulder and frowns. "Why are you calling Roux? We don't need Roux."

"Oh, I think we do. I think you should explain to both of us-- them included-- exactly what you've done." The anger rises in me but I choke down as much of it as I can and put the momentary surge of fury into scrolling through my contacts until I find Roux's number. I can never find it. I gave them a stupid name the first time I put them in my phone and then never changed it. It's more of an inconvenience than anything. Currently, it's royally pissing me off.

I ignore Doug's protests. I have more important things to think about-- namely, how he used me and why he possibly would have done that.

By the end of the second ring, Roux picks up. I instantly put them on speaker-phone. Judging by the noise on the other end, I can tell that they're around people but not necessarily in a crowded place. "Hey, Ike," they say. "How's it going? Are you almost done?"

"Not quite," I reply, through gritted teeth. "Doug, why don't you explain what we're really doing here?"

"I don't know what you want me to say, Mikey," he says, exasperated. It's like he's on the verge of tears, but I'm convinced it's another manipulation tactic and I refuse to give in.

"Oh, no, you do not get to call me that," I snap. "Do not."

"What am I supposed to call you then?" he gripes. "I'm not calling you Michelle!"

"I don't want you to call me that, either!"

"Then what am I supposed to call you? There's nothing left. There are no other options."

"I don't want you to call me anything at all."

Roux clears their throat. "Uh. Guys? Are you doing okay? I can call back later if you want, or--"

"No, stay on the line. You need to know that Doug was lying to us from the beginning. He was lying to us the entire time. You were right. I shouldn't have trusted him."

"Excuse me?" Roux sounds confused.

"That's not true," Doug objects.

"No, it is. Why don't you tell them about how you tricked us this entire goddamn time? How it was you who decided to make us go to that stupid clown motel and the cannibal restaurant and this stupid park, and all the little things-- you put us in danger and expected me to go along with it? Because what, because I wanted someone to fix this? Because you wanted that lord bitch that controls you to swap you for me? You were so willing to sell me out--"

"Do you not get that she has been controlling me this whole time? The chains with which she binds me haven't disappeared. They're just less visible. If I don't obey her, she has the right to torture me. I want my freedom."

"And you're willing to get it at the expense of me?"

"Yes! Did you think I cared about you? Don't make me laugh. I was using you, you idiot. Do you know how many kids I've had? You're the only one who was stupid enough to go along with this. I told you I was manipulative and you still came with me. This isn't on me. This is on you. You're stupid. You were stupid to trust me."

I don't have enough time to take all of that in-- the reality of me having so many half-siblings that weren't nearly as stupid and trusting as I was. I just know, without thinking or processing, that he is correct. I am stupid. I was stupid to trust him.

While I'm trying to understand it and Doug is sitting in justified silence, Roux deigns to hang up and talk to me later so that they can drive back to the park. Honestly, I don't blame them. I had almost forgotten that they were there at all.

"What did you do to me?" When my mind comes back to me, the voice that comes out of me is soft and hollow, barely a whisper. I'm shocked by how shattered I sound and feel. "When you knocked me over at the park. What did you do to me?"

"I awoke it." Doug is defiant. He holds his head high, like he thinks that he has done nothing wrong. "I burned my finger in your back and I awoke the demon part of you. It would have stayed dormant if I hadn't."

"Fuck you."

"I chose you, don't you get that? I'm the one who made you extraordinary. Do you know how many kids I have in that town alone? And I chose you. You should be flattered. You should be grateful."

"Yeah, but you used me. And you lied to me. And I don't owe you gratitude."

"You owe me everything."

I don't recognize him. He looks the same but everything about him is different. Gone is the simple rock-dad dopey smile. Gone is the illusion of him caring about me even a little bit. He doesn't look like the Doug I know or, rather, that I thought I knew.

If this is the truth-- that I was the unwitting pawn in his grand scheme, that I was duped in all of this... Well, I don't need to hear it from this asshole. With betrayal riding me like a backpack between my scapulae, I stand up. I wobble for a second, but I hold my ground. "Tell your old lady that she can keep you. You may be my father, but I am not your daughter. Eat shit and die in bondage. Or eat shit and live, for all I care."

I stand up and, trying to keep all the pain behind my gritted teeth, hobble off. I walk out of the park.

I leave him behind.