As they stepped out of the car, the door to the sleek Jaguar parked beside them swung open. A stunning girl with cascading black curls and a long red dress stepped out, her stilettos clicking against the pavement. Her presence was striking, like a figure from an old Hollywood movie. Despite her beauty, Jonas didn't notice her. His eyes were locked on the house before him, his expression dark and determined.

On the other hand, Sam couldn't help but flush at the sight of her. He stammered awkwardly, "Um... you are?"

Hugh patted Sam's shoulder and smoothly stepped in. "This is Emilia," he introduced her quickly, his tone casual but firm. Without missing a beat, Hugh laced his fingers through Jonas', grounding him in the moment. "I can break a window if we need a way in," he offered, his voice low but ready for action.

Jonas shook his head, his gaze never wavering from the imposing front door of the mansion. He began walking towards it, each step feeling heavier than the last, as if the weight of his fears was dragging him down. He knew where Eli was, but he prayed with every fiber of his being that he was wrong. He never wanted Eli to know the horror of that place.

When he reached the front door, his heart pounded against his chest. His hand hovered over the keypad, memories of the last time he had been here flooding his mind. He pressed the familiar code with trembling fingers, which his father had never bothered to change, convinced that Jonas would never dare return. The lock clicked, and Jonas felt a chill run down his spine. He pushed the door open, dreading what he might find on the other side.

The house was cloaked in an eerie stillness, its few illuminated lights casting a faint, almost ghostly glow. Clark Spencer never kept anyone in the house unless absolutely necessary—no staff, no noise—just the oppressive silence of a place meant to intimidate rather than comfort.

Jonas stood in the grand entryway, his eyes taking in the all-too-familiar surroundings. The marble floors shimmered under the soft light, each polished tile reflecting his unease. The dark hardwood staircase gleamed, its surface pristine and untouched. Large, ostentatious paintings hung in gilded frames along the walls, accompanied by ornate vases that stood like silent sentinels. His father had always boasted about every item in this room, proudly recounting how the marble had been imported from Italy, the wood from Brazil, the vases from China, and the paintings sourced from the most elusive corners of the world.

But Jonas loathed it all.

He moved past the staircase without a glance, his steps echoing softly in the empty space. He walked purposefully, ignoring the grandeur around him and the memories that threatened to resurface. The hallway opened into a vast living room, where a large window offered a view of the lake beyond the manicured garden. But Jonas didn't pause to take in the familiar sights. The beauty of the scene outside was lost on him, overshadowed by the dread that churned in his stomach.

Another hallway, another turn, and he found himself standing in front of a door. Here, he stopped, his breath catching in his throat. More than anything else in the house, this door represented everything he feared and hated. His hand hovered over the handle, the familiar sensation of dread washing over him. He knew what lay beyond, but still, he hesitated, praying once more that he was wrong.

Hugh stayed by Jonas' side the entire time, matching his pace as they moved deeper into the house. The others followed closely, their curiosity piqued when Jonas stopped in front of a door. It wasn't just any door—something about it held Jonas frozen in place.

Hugh felt Jonas' hand tremble violently in his grip, his breath growing uneven. The usually composed Jonas seemed on the brink of unraveling, his fear palpable in the oppressive silence of the house.

"Jo, what is this place?" Hugh asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn't need Jonas to answer to understand. Deep down, he already knew. This was that place—the one Jonas never spoke of, the one he always begged to be released from in his nightmares. The one that haunted him every time the lights went out, leaving him alone in the dark.

Hugh's heart clenched. This was the source of Jonas' deepest fears, the reason for his terror of the dark, and now, they were standing right in front of it.

Jonas didn't answer Hugh's question. Instead, his anger became a force of its own, radiating off him in waves. Without warning, he let out a primal roar and punched the door with all his strength. The solid wood didn't budge, but the force of the blow split his knuckles, blood smearing across the surface.

Ignoring the pain, he kicked the door repeatedly, each impact more forceful than the last. The wood splintered under the relentless assault until, with a final, shattering blow, the door slammed open, crashing against the inner wall. Darkness engulfed the room beyond.

A small, pitiful whimper echoed from inside, freezing the boys in place. Jonas stumbled, his earlier fury vanishing as the reality of the situation hit him. He caught himself on the doorframe, his voice breaking as a single word escaped his lips.

"No."

The whisper carried all the weight of his despair. Tears streamed down his cheeks, unchecked and unstoppable, as he faced the nightmare he'd hoped would never come true.

Hugh heard the irregularities in Jonas' breathing and knew this was a precursor to a panic attack. He quickly pulled him into a hug. "I'm here, Jo. I'm not leaving your side. We go down together, pick up Eli, and leave together."

"I... What if... I can't get out again?" Jonas choked out, his deep-seated fear surfacing as he buried his head in the nook of Hugh's neck.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to go down. I can go and bring him up. You never have to go down there again," Hugh said quietly.

Jonas shook his head. "He needs me."

Jonas understood all too well how disorienting and terrifying the pitch-black darkness could be. He knew Eli was likely in agonizing pain from a beating, scared and alone, with nothing but the void around him. Eli needed someone familiar, someone he trusted, to pull him out. If a stranger tried, it could only make things worse, sending him into a panic.

Hugh sighed in understanding, though a part of him wished Jonas would let him go down alone. He didn't want to bring Jonas into that place, but he knew both Jonas and Eli needed this. "Jo, the guys are here to make sure we come back out. They've got our backs. Just keep thinking about Eli."

Sam's soft voice came from behind them. "Hugh's right, Jo. We're not going anywhere. We're right here." He didn't know the full details, but he could see how distressed Jonas was and wanted to offer some words of encouragement.

Jonas nodded, taking a deep breath before breaking away from Hugh.

Hugh gently caressed Jonas' face, wiping away the fallen tears while holding back his own. "Is there a light switch?"

Jonas shook his head, his voice trembling as he echoed the familiar words of his father. "No... he broke the light bulb. Light is given to those who obey." The phrase was like a ghost from his past, a cruel mantra his father would repeat every time he shut the door on Jonas.

Hugh held Jonas' hand, turning on his phone's flashlight. He gave it a firm squeeze. "I love you, Jo, and I'm not leaving your side. Remember that." He kissed Jonas' hand and stepped forward but faltered as the light hit the stairs. The step was stained with old, dried blood—a dark reddish-brown reminder of past horrors. Hugh shuddered, imagining the hidden side of the door where Jonas must have punched and clawed until his hands bled.

As they descended into the darkness, the others finally broke. Travis slumped to the ground, sobbing, while Jaiden tried to calm him, his own tears falling freely. Emilia trembled so violently that Sam pulled her into his arms, steadying her as she sobbed against his chest. The Kings stood with a look of helpless rage, furious at the darkness that haunted their friend. But how do you fight something as intangible as a room?

Their promise to stay and ensure Jonas returned was the only thing keeping them from hunting down Clark Spencer.

Inside the basement, Hugh struggled to hold back his own tears. Each step down was another reminder of the blood Jonas had shed, and each step made Jonas tremble even more.

Hugh reined in his emotions and held tightly to Jonas' hand. As they reached the basement floor, Hugh swept his light across the room, revealing more bloodstains and shredded walls. The place was nightmarish, like something out of a horror movie. The signs of Jonas' desperate struggle to escape were everywhere—scratch marks on the walls, bloodstains on the floor.

But he had never been able to escape.

The light panned across the room until it fell on a curled-up figure. Jonas tensed when he saw Eli, and they both rushed to his side.

Eli was shivering, covered in his own blood. Jonas let out a broken breath. "Oh, Eli."

A whimper was Eli's only response.

Jonas reached out to stroke his hair, but Eli flinched, letting out a small cry of pain. Jonas cursed softly, his heart breaking. "Eli, I'm taking you out of here," he whispered, trying to soothe him.

Eli shook his head, not believing Jonas was really there. Jonas continued to stroke his hair gently. "I'm here. I'm taking you out of here."

A small, cracked voice escaped Eli's lips. His swollen eyes tried to focus on the blurry figure above him. "Jo?"

"I'm here. I'm going to pick you up, but it will hurt a bit," Jonas said softly. He carefully hooked his arms under Eli's knees and back, slowly lifting him to his chest. Eli cried out in pain, and Jonas paused, waiting until Eli's body relaxed before pressing him close.

Eli wrapped his arms around Jonas' neck and buried his head in his shoulder. Jonas stood up, and Hugh immediately moved beside him, his hand resting reassuringly on Jonas' back. He never stopped touching him, trying to remind Jonas that he was still there.

Jonas gave Hugh a small, sad smile. Hugh leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "Let's go, sweetheart."

They made their way up the stairs, emerging into the hallway where the rest of the group waited. Jonas' eyes barely registered their presence; his focus remained on the trembling figure in his arms. With the increased light, the extent of Eli's bruises and cuts became more visible. Jonas drew him closer, his voice firm but gentle. "We're leaving, Eli. You're never coming back here."

Eli gave a small whimper in reply.

Travis sprang up, his eyes wide with desperation. "Eli!" he whispered, voice trembling as he rushed towards the figure.

"Angel," he croaked, his voice barely a whisper.

Still with his hand on Jonas' back, Hugh spoke urgently, "We need to get to the hospital."

Though visibly shaken, Emilia regained some composure but was still clinging to Sam's arm. "I'm coming too."

Sam shook his head. "You're in no state to drive."

Emilia handed her keys to Sam with a determined look. "Then you drive me. I'm going no matter what."

Sam nodded, tossing his keys to Rodgers. "You drive them. Jaiden, you're with me and Mila."

He leaned in closer to Rodgers and Millan. "Those two are livid, so if anything happens, you're the first line of defense."

Millan's scowl deepened. "I don't think I want to stop them."

Sam sighed. "Neither do I, but Eli needs his brother, not a sibling behind bars for murder."

Millan sighed, punching the wall next to him. "This is seriously messed up."

Rodgers placed a hand on Millan's shoulder, his own anger evident, eyes red. "Let's go."

Together, they reined in their emotions and focused on being there for each other, determined to support Jonas and get Eli the help he needed.