His Private Hell - Chapter 60: Chapter 60
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The moment Eella regained consciousness, the room was drenched in silence that felt like rain on metal. She wasn’t sure where she was—dark, concrete walls pressed close, the air damp and sharp. Garrison’s shape hovered over her. His face was illuminated by a single wall lamp, the rest of the room swallowed by shadow.
She blinked. Tried to breathe. Tried to move. Pain unfurled across her chest, sharp and real. Her fingers grazed his, warm and steady.
“Don’t leave again,” he said.
Her voice came out in a croak. “You shot me.”
He sucked in a harsh breath. “I saved you.”
The sirens had stopped.
The quiet made her blood hum.
“Where… are we?”
He looked away. “Safe.”
She stared at his profile—hollow cheeks, haunted eyes, blood under his nails. “You didn’t kill me.”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t. You’re all I have left.”
She didn’t know what that meant.
But she did know who she was now.
⸻
He carried her across the threshold into an apartment that wasn’t his penthouse. Not hers, either—or so he said.
“This is mine,” he whispered, laying her on an unfamiliar bed. “It’s hidden.”
“What is all this?” She touched the walls—no windows, no art, no warmth.
“It’s where we start again.”
She closed her eyes, searching desperately for the girl she used to be. Gone. Replaced. Changed forever.
“You lied to me,” she whispered.
He kissed her forehead. “I lied to protect you.”
“Protect me from what?”
He pulled away. “From yourself.”
Confusion warped her face. “What do you mean?”
⸻
He slid between her legs, but his touch wasn’t tender. It was claiming. Ownership.
“Because the person who killed me… wasn’t me. It was her.”
She froze.
“What are you saying?”
He leaned against her, chin on her shoulder. “Darcie.”
“Stop it.”
She flipped onto her back. Eyes wild.
“You think I’m broken? That you’re broken?”
He didn’t answer at first.
Then: “We share her.”
Eella’s blood ran cold.
“What?”
“You and I. We contain her. Because she never died.”
⸻
He explained.
Two years ago, DAR-TECH—note to heads up—experimented with VR-level memory transfer. Target: restore trauma cases. Darcie volunteered. The trial went wrong. Instead of healing, they fractured her psyche. She died physically. But her mind… split.
Into code.
Into memory.
And into two.
One copy died with her body.
One copy infected the system.
And the other—well, he couldn’t let it die.
He made Eella volunteer.
She woke, feeling like she had lived someone else’s life.
She didn’t realize it until that night she saw Darcie in that mirror, breathing, alive.
She was the container.
—
Eella staggered upright. “You… used me.”
He reached for her hand. “I gave you a choice.”
She laughed—brittle, broken. “You didn’t give me anything.”
He leaned in. “I gave you a name.”
“You stole it!”
He brushed her hair back. “I gave you a purpose.”
She recoiled. “You turned me into a weapon.”
He closed the distance, firm and unrelenting.
“And you became one.”
—
There was no fight.
They tumbled into each other, violent, desperate. Every thrust was rebellion, every touch an accusation. Lust tore through them like flames. This time, no words. Just need and betrayal and something far darker.
She came into his mouth. Into him.
And when she hit the bottom, she felt empty.
⸻
After, she lay beside him, panting, eyes wide.
“I’m tired.”
He brushed his mouth against her skin. “I know.”
She took his hand. “I want to remember.”
He looked at her then—eyes raw.
“Remember what?”
“Me. Not her.”
He sighed, pulling her closer.
He whispered her name.
She closed her eyes and tried to remember.
⸻
Later, she met a coded envelope in the drawer.
Inside: a chip—USB. A label read: “For when you remember fully.”
She looked at him across the bed.
“Is this… us?”
He nodded. “It holds the full file. Her. You. Everything.”
She swallowed.
“And you want me to use it?”
“Yes.”
Silence stretched.
She touched the chip. Cold plastic. Frozen in time.
⸻
He packed a duffel silently while she stared, torn.
“Where are we going?”
He looked at her. “Somewhere she can’t follow.”
⸻
They drove with no music.
Her finger hovered over her phone—thoughts of Ronnie and Ollie, the board skirmishes, the explosion, the folder, the truth.
But she held back.
Garrison glanced at her. “If you do this… there’s no turning back.”
She nodded.
⸻
Cliffhanger ending
They pulled into a compound behind high walls.
Night closed in.
He pressed the USB drive into her hand.
“Open it.”
She pressed it into the laptop.
A video file opened.
It showed Eella—sleeping.
And Garrison.
Together.
In the penthouse.
Moments after explosion.
Last frame: Darcie’s reflection in the window behind them.
She gasped.
Garrison grabbed her shoulders. “She’s with you. Always.”
Eella stared at the screen.
Her mind unraveled.
Because if Darcie was always there…
Then what was she?
She blinked. Tried to breathe. Tried to move. Pain unfurled across her chest, sharp and real. Her fingers grazed his, warm and steady.
“Don’t leave again,” he said.
Her voice came out in a croak. “You shot me.”
He sucked in a harsh breath. “I saved you.”
The sirens had stopped.
The quiet made her blood hum.
“Where… are we?”
He looked away. “Safe.”
She stared at his profile—hollow cheeks, haunted eyes, blood under his nails. “You didn’t kill me.”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t. You’re all I have left.”
She didn’t know what that meant.
But she did know who she was now.
⸻
He carried her across the threshold into an apartment that wasn’t his penthouse. Not hers, either—or so he said.
“This is mine,” he whispered, laying her on an unfamiliar bed. “It’s hidden.”
“What is all this?” She touched the walls—no windows, no art, no warmth.
“It’s where we start again.”
She closed her eyes, searching desperately for the girl she used to be. Gone. Replaced. Changed forever.
“You lied to me,” she whispered.
He kissed her forehead. “I lied to protect you.”
“Protect me from what?”
He pulled away. “From yourself.”
Confusion warped her face. “What do you mean?”
⸻
He slid between her legs, but his touch wasn’t tender. It was claiming. Ownership.
“Because the person who killed me… wasn’t me. It was her.”
She froze.
“What are you saying?”
He leaned against her, chin on her shoulder. “Darcie.”
“Stop it.”
She flipped onto her back. Eyes wild.
“You think I’m broken? That you’re broken?”
He didn’t answer at first.
Then: “We share her.”
Eella’s blood ran cold.
“What?”
“You and I. We contain her. Because she never died.”
⸻
He explained.
Two years ago, DAR-TECH—note to heads up—experimented with VR-level memory transfer. Target: restore trauma cases. Darcie volunteered. The trial went wrong. Instead of healing, they fractured her psyche. She died physically. But her mind… split.
Into code.
Into memory.
And into two.
One copy died with her body.
One copy infected the system.
And the other—well, he couldn’t let it die.
He made Eella volunteer.
She woke, feeling like she had lived someone else’s life.
She didn’t realize it until that night she saw Darcie in that mirror, breathing, alive.
She was the container.
—
Eella staggered upright. “You… used me.”
He reached for her hand. “I gave you a choice.”
She laughed—brittle, broken. “You didn’t give me anything.”
He leaned in. “I gave you a name.”
“You stole it!”
He brushed her hair back. “I gave you a purpose.”
She recoiled. “You turned me into a weapon.”
He closed the distance, firm and unrelenting.
“And you became one.”
—
There was no fight.
They tumbled into each other, violent, desperate. Every thrust was rebellion, every touch an accusation. Lust tore through them like flames. This time, no words. Just need and betrayal and something far darker.
She came into his mouth. Into him.
And when she hit the bottom, she felt empty.
⸻
After, she lay beside him, panting, eyes wide.
“I’m tired.”
He brushed his mouth against her skin. “I know.”
She took his hand. “I want to remember.”
He looked at her then—eyes raw.
“Remember what?”
“Me. Not her.”
He sighed, pulling her closer.
He whispered her name.
She closed her eyes and tried to remember.
⸻
Later, she met a coded envelope in the drawer.
Inside: a chip—USB. A label read: “For when you remember fully.”
She looked at him across the bed.
“Is this… us?”
He nodded. “It holds the full file. Her. You. Everything.”
She swallowed.
“And you want me to use it?”
“Yes.”
Silence stretched.
She touched the chip. Cold plastic. Frozen in time.
⸻
He packed a duffel silently while she stared, torn.
“Where are we going?”
He looked at her. “Somewhere she can’t follow.”
⸻
They drove with no music.
Her finger hovered over her phone—thoughts of Ronnie and Ollie, the board skirmishes, the explosion, the folder, the truth.
But she held back.
Garrison glanced at her. “If you do this… there’s no turning back.”
She nodded.
⸻
Cliffhanger ending
They pulled into a compound behind high walls.
Night closed in.
He pressed the USB drive into her hand.
“Open it.”
She pressed it into the laptop.
A video file opened.
It showed Eella—sleeping.
And Garrison.
Together.
In the penthouse.
Moments after explosion.
Last frame: Darcie’s reflection in the window behind them.
She gasped.
Garrison grabbed her shoulders. “She’s with you. Always.”
Eella stared at the screen.
Her mind unraveled.
Because if Darcie was always there…
Then what was she?
End of His Private Hell Chapter 60. Continue reading Chapter 61 or return to His Private Hell book page.