Chapter 6

Colton stared at Harlow, curled on the floor, and Jax, cradling her. He was shaking with rage. He couldn't speak.

"You blind idiot!" Colton finally managed to choke out.

Jax paused. A flicker of doubt in his eyes. But then Harlow whimpered again. A pained little moan.

Jax's gaze hardened. He pulled Harlow closer.

"I swear, Jax," Colton spat, his voice thick with fury. "I'm going to knock some sense into you today."

A couple of crew members rushed forward. They grabbed Colton. Restraining him.

"Colton, calm down!" one of them yelled. "We've called the doctors! And security!"

Jax, still holding the whimpering Harlow, stood up. He started to walk towards the door.

As he passed my bed, he stopped. He leaned down. His breath was cold on my ear.

"You and your brother," he whispered. His voice was full of venom. "You truly deserve each other. A conniving slut and a violent thug."

"This isn't over, Joleen," he hissed. "You'll pay for this. You'll pay for everything. For the rest of your miserable life."

He straightened up. He walked out, carrying Harlow. The cameras followed them, retreating just as quickly as they had arrived.

The room was silent again. Just me and Colton.

Colton's face was ashen. He walked to my bed. He gently wiped the tears from my cheeks.

"It's okay, Jo," he whispered. His voice was hoarse. "Don't be scared. I'm here. I won't let anyone hurt you again."

He promised. He always promised.

He held my hand. His palm was warm. His touch was real.

My mind, still a swirling fog, felt a little clearer. Just a little.

"My head hurts," I mumbled.

"I know, baby," Colton said. "I'm going to take you home. Away from this place. Away from all of them."

"We'll go somewhere no one knows us," he continued. His voice was firm. "I'll take care of you. Forever."

I nodded. A small, weak nod.

That night, Colton practically dragged me out of the hospital. He signed whatever papers they shoved at him.

He packed my few belongings. The worn sweater. The patched quilt.

He pushed me in a wheelchair out of the hospital. The night air was cool.

"I already called my friend," Colton said. "He found us a place. In the next town over. A quiet one."

We reached a taxi. Just as we were about to get in, several black SUVs roared up. They surrounded us.

The doors flung open. A dozen burly men in black suits emerged.

One man, impeccably dressed, stepped forward. He had a slick, practiced smile. It was Jax's agent.

"Ms. Spencer, Mr. Spencer," the agent said. His voice was smooth, but his eyes were cold. "Mr. Mosley would like a word. He insists."

Colton pushed me behind him. His body was tense. He glared at the agent.

"We have nothing to say to Jax," Colton growled. "Get out of our way."

The agent's smile didn't falter. "I'm afraid that won't be possible."

He paused. "Harlow Bridges. Her arm is a comminuted fracture. Shattered bone. A very serious injury, Mr. Spencer."

Colton's face paled.

"Mr. Mosley is, understandably, very upset," the agent went on. "He's prepared to press charges. Assault. Disturbing the peace. Ruining a major production."

"But," the agent continued, his smile widening, "he's a merciful man. Especially for old times' sake. He's willing to settle out of court. For a price."

The agent's eyes, sharp and calculating, flickered past Colton, to me.

"Mr. Mosley's reality show needs a grand finale," he said. "A moment of truth. A public 'cleansing,' if you will."

"He wants Joleen to participate," the agent explained. "A symbolic gesture. To wash away the past. To embrace the future."

"And if she agrees," the agent concluded, "all charges against you, Mr. Spencer, will be dropped. And a generous sum will be provided for Joleen's future. Enough to guarantee her comfort, for life."

Colton's jaw dropped. He looked at me, then back at the agent.

"No!" Colton roared. "You disgusting vultures! You think I'd let you use my sister like that? Never!"

The agent's smile vanished. His face was cold.

"Think carefully, Mr. Spencer," he said. "Where will you go? A man with your record. A woman with her condition. Mr. Mosley's influence is vast. He could make you disappear. Make you wish you'd never been born."

The men in black suits took a step forward. Their presence was a physical threat.

Colton's hands clenched into fists. His knuckles cracked. He wanted to fight. I could feel his anger. His desperation.

I tugged his sleeve. Gently.

"I'll do it," I whispered. My voice was barely audible.

Colton turned. His eyes wide with disbelief. "Jo? What are you saying?"

I shook my head. "I don't know what they want. But I don't want you to be in trouble."

A Post-it note I knew was on my fridge, though now torn, flashed in my mind. "Colton is the best brother. Don't let him get sad."

I looked at Colton. My voice was stronger now. "I'm not scared."

Colton looked at me. His shoulders slumped. Defeat etched on his face.

The next day, I was brought to the town square. A massive stage had been erected. Bright lights. Giant screens.

Hundreds of people crowded below. Local residents. Tourists. All there to see the show. To see the famous Jax Mosley. To see me.

Countless cameras were pointed at the stage. A public spectacle.

Two crew members guided me onto the stage. The lights were blinding. I squinted.

Jax and Harlow stood center stage. Harlow's arm was in a sling, resting against her chest. Her face was pale. Her smile, however, was triumphant.

An announcer, holding a microphone, boomed, "Welcome, everyone! To a moment of true redemption! A testament to love, forgiveness, and the power of second chances!"

"Today," he declared, "we witness Jax Mosley himself, our hometown hero, cleanse Joleen Spencer of her past. A new beginning! A fresh start!"

The crowd roared. Cheers and applause.

I was led to a giant, clear tank. It was filled with water. Ice-cold water. I shivered just looking at it.

"This is the 'Cleansing Ceremony'!" the announcer yelled. "Joleen will enter this tank. She will shed her old self. Her mistakes. Her misfortunes."

"And when she emerges," he promised, "she will be reborn! Renewed! With the love and support of Jax Mosley and Harlow Bridges, she will embark on a new chapter!"

A wave of terror washed over me. I didn't want to go in there. I wanted to run.

Two burly crew members approached me. They reached for my arms.

"No," I cried. "No, I don't want to!" I struggled, but their grip was firm.

Jax stepped forward. He grabbed my hair. Roughly. He dragged me towards the tank.

"You owe me this, Joleen," he hissed in my ear. His voice was filled with cold fury. "Seven years ago, you made a fool of me. You humiliated me. Today, you'll taste your own medicine."

He bent close. "Get in that tank. Or your brother will pay. You understand?"

My body froze. Colton.

I stopped struggling. My fight drained out of me.

The crew members opened the lid of the tank. They pushed me in.

The icy water engulfed me. It was cold. So cold. It filled my lungs.

I couldn't swim. I thrashed wildly. Choking. Coughing. My lungs burned. They felt like they would explode.

Through the distorted water, through the glass, I saw blurry faces. Jax. Harlow. The announcer. The crowd.

Their faces were twisted. Excited. Like they were watching a thrilling freak show.

My vision started to fade. My body grew heavy. I sank.

Random flashes. Quick, sharp images. Dancing in my mind. But they brought only more pain. More confusion.

Just as darkness threatened to consume me, the lid of the tank was ripped open. A rush of cold air.