by Sherri Hayes
“I can’t seem to stop.” I held on tighter to him, hoping, somehow, that would help.
It didn’t.
“Would you rather talk about it now or in the morning?” he asked.
It was after three in the morning and I should be exhausted after the long day we’d had. And my body was. My body was ready to fall into a deep sleep, nestled safely in Stephan’s arms.
My mind was altogether a different story. It wouldn’t stop replaying what had happened tonight. And not only to me, but also to Mel. I kept wondering what would have happened if I wouldn’t have recognized Wilks. Or if I would have ignored what I knew and stayed safe in my world with Stephan.
Another shiver rocked my body.
“Shh,” Stephan whispered. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
Time ticked by with no sound except for our breathing. I was awake and I knew he was, too. Eventually, my eyes drifted close, exhaustion pulling me under.
Flashes of Wilks’s face. His hand around my throat. The knife pressing against me. The sound of my dress ripping. I heard them all as if I were in a theater with surround sound, every sound amplified. Every smell so strong I could taste it in the back of my throat.
Then, I wasn’t in the hotel anymore. I was in Ian’s playroom. The lights were all on and I was tied to a chair, the straps holding me in place, so I was unable to move even an inch. Wilks was standing over me, knife in hand, and it was already dripping with my blood.”
I screamed as he lowered the knife to my stomach.
Hands grabbed hold of my face and I tried to twist away. “No. No. Please. Please, stop.”
“Brianna, open your eyes. It’s Stephan.”
It took me a while to register the voice and what it was saying. Stephan.
I opened my eyes, and he was hovering above me. His hands were cupping my face and he was rubbing his thumbs along my cheeks. “That’s it, love. You’re here with me. I’ve got you.”
A sob escaped my throat sending a shot of pain through me. I grabbed hold of him and buried my face in his shoulder. He held me as I cried.
By the time I’d calmed down enough to release him, the first signs of the sun were coming over the horizon. We made no move to get out of bed, though. Not for another two hours. Not until Stephan’s phone rang, wrenching us from the bubble we’d cocooned ourselves in.
Stephan
Last night did not go as planned. Not by a long shot.
I sat at the kitchen island, watching Brianna make breakfast for the two of us as I contemplated all the ways last night had gone horribly wrong. Leaving the young woman to fend for herself when we’d known what kind of man she was with, wasn’t an option. It wasn’t in my DNA and it wasn’t in Brianna’s, either. We could have reported it and left it to security or the police to handle, but even that wouldn't have sat right with me. No one knew better than Brianna and me the damage the man could do, both physically and mentally.
As many times as I’d ran over different scenarios in my mind, I couldn’t find a better option. Brianna had wanted to help, even knowing the risks . . . knowing the position she could, and did, put herself in.
Brianna moved about the kitchen with practiced ease. She was at home cooking and I’d allowed her to fall back into what was normal for her, knowing she needed that more than anything.
Even though last night was terrifying, seeing her manhandled by a man who didn’t understand how precious she was, I was extremely proud of her. Despite everything, she’d been able to fight through the fear, the panic, and remember her self-defense training. It had provided an opportunity for me and Jessie to act.
No, last night had not gone to plan at all. Instead of standing in front of the floor to ceiling windows of my condo, proposing to the woman I love more than life itself, I’d held her quivering body as she dealt with the trauma of a sadistic bastard hurting her again.
She placed a stack of waffles on the counter and came to sit on the stool beside me. I turned her face to mine and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Once we’re done eating, I’ll call Agent Marco and see how Mel’s doing this morning.”
Brianna nodded. “Thank you.”
I placed another kiss to her lips before picking up my fork and beginning to eat. Brianna followed. We needed to talk about her nightmare, but I wanted to be holding her when we had that conversation. To be honest, I think I needed the connection as much as she did.
We finished our breakfast and while she cleaned up, I made the call to Agent Marco.
“Marco.” His voice was clipped and clear even though it was barely eight o’clock on a Sunday morning.
“It’s Stephan Coleman. I was calling to see how Mel was doing this morning.”
There was movement in the background, and then the sound of a door closing. “Physically, she’s going to be fine. She’s scared and she’s not talking. I even sent a female agent in to see if she’d be able to get through to her, but other than a few sounds she didn’t get anywhere.”
I glanced at Brianna as she loaded the dishwasher. “Brianna’s worried about her.”
He was quiet for too long. “Do you think Miss Reeves would be willing to talk to her? I need to get her statement about what happened last night. Yours and Miss Reeves’s, too. I should have gotten it last night but . . .”
There was no need to finish that sentence. And I appreciated the fact that he’d let us go home instead of dragging us into the office to make an official statement. “When did you want us to come in to give our statements?”
“Ten o’clock? You know how to get here.”
Yes, I did.
“We’ll be there. And I’ll talk to Brianna about Mel. It will be up to her if she wants to help.” I wouldn’t push her but given the way Brianna had reacted last night toward Mel, I was certain she’d want to talk to her even if it wasn’t to get the statement for Agent Marco.
I disconnected the call, and almost immediately my phone dinged notifying me I had a message. It was from Logan. He and Lily had showed up at the same time as Agent Marco. They’d stayed with Brianna while the paramedics were checking her over so I could deal with the other craziness.
How’s Brianna this morning? - Logan
Rough night. Going to see Agent Marco in a couple of hours. I’ll call you later. - Stephan
I tucked my phone in my pocket, sat down in my chair, and waited.
Another five minutes passed. I looked over to find Brianna hunched over the kitchen counter.
Standing, I crossed the room in a matter of seconds. I heard her quiet sobs as I drew close and folded her into my arms. She buried her face in my chest, letting the tears flow. I held her until the crying began to ebb, and then I picked her up and carried her over to my chair in the living room.
She adjusted her body to the new position, resting her head on my shoulder and reaching for the buttons on my shirt. I brushed the hair away from her face, some of the strands damp from her tears. We needed to talk. She needed to talk.
I didn’t bother to ask why she was crying. “I spoke to Agent Marco.”
“How is she?” Brianna asked.
“He said she’s quiet. She wouldn't even talk to one of the female agents. He wanted to know if you were up to talking to her. They need to get her statement.” I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Do you feel up to it?”
“Yes, Sir. I can do it.” She swallowed. “I want to.”
“I’m proud of you, you know. You did so well last night. So brave.”
She took a deep breath and released it. “I couldn’t go with him.”
“I know.”
“I would have rather he killed me.”
The thought of Brianna no longer being alive wasn’t something I wanted to contemplate. A sick feeling filled the pit of my stomach and a pain lodged deep in my chest. I couldn’t lose her. “You’re here. And he’s in custody.”
I felt her nod as she gathered the front of my shirt in her hand.
For the next few mi
nutes, I let the feel of her in my arms comfort me. I needed it after her assertion. While I understood it, I didn’t want to think about her dead, lifeless. I didn’t want her to think about it either.
Once I had my emotions in check, I broached another subject we needed to discuss. “Tell me about your nightmare.”
She tensed and I ran my hand up and down her back to sooth her. “I was in Ian’s playroom. Wilks was there. I was tied down. I couldn’t move.”
“How many times did he hurt you?” She knew I wasn’t talking about last night.
“Twice.”
I breathed through my anger. Hearing what had been done to her was always difficult, but it was nothing compared to her going through it. “Was the nightmare a memory, or something new?”
It took her a moment to answer. “It was Ian’s playroom, and I was tied to a chair. But Wilks liked to use the St. Andrew’s Cross. He said . . . he said . . . he liked to watch the blood drip.” She shivered.
“He’s on Agent Marco’s radar now. He’ll do everything in his power to make sure Wilks spends the rest of his life behind bars.” Most of Ian Pierce’s illegal business dealings had been off the books, so trying to track down his associates was difficult at best.
“I just don’t want him to hurt anyone else.”
“I know, sweetheart. I don’t want that either. We’ve got him, though. We know who he is. We have a name, a face. Not to mention the fact that he attacked you in full view of me and hotel security. He’ll get what’s coming to him.” It wouldn’t be nearly enough, but it was something.
We sat for a while in the quiet of the condo, in no hurry to get on with our day. But alas, eventually the outside world invaded. “Are you ready to give your statement about last night and try to talk to Mel?”
Brianna tilted her head back to gaze up at me. “Yes.” She pressed her lips together as if she wanted to say more. I was about to ask her when she added, “I love you, Sir. I couldn’t do this without you.”
Cupping the side of her face, I rubbed my thumb along her cheek. “Yes, you could, love. But you don’t have to. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter 26
Brianna
It had been a while since I’d been to the federal building where Agent Marco’s office was located. Stephan held my hand as we made our way to the third floor. “Number?” he asked before we exited the elevator.
“Four.”
He nodded and gave my hand a squeeze. I knew he was there for me, but I also knew that in a few minutes I’d have to give my statement and Agent Marco would make Stephan wait outside. I knew him well enough to know that.
When we arrived at Agent Marco’s office, he wasn’t alone. A woman was standing next to his desk, a folder in her hand.
Stephan cleared his throat and they both looked toward the door. Agent Marco stood. “Thank you for coming. Have a seat.”
Agent Marco had gotten less hostile toward Stephan after the trial was over. I still don’t think he was crazy about the fact that Stephan bought me, but he wasn’t on a mission to charge him with anything, either. That could be because of the deal I’d struck to testify against Ian Pierce, but I didn’t think so.
“I’d like you to meet Agent Gibbson. She’s assisting me with the Wilks investigation,” Agent Marco said pointing to the woman.
Agent Gibbson extended her hand to first Stephan and then me. “Thank you both for coming in. It’s always a good day when we can get one of these sickos off the streets.”
“Yes. It is,” Stephan said, shooting a look toward Agent Marco. Agent Gibbson looked to be in her late twenties, much younger than Agent Marco, and she seemed to have a lot of enthusiasm for her job.
Agent Marco coughed. “Now that the introductions are out of the way, I’d like to get your official statements regarding what happened last night, and then, if you’re willing, Miss Reeves, I’d like for you to talk to Mel. Agent Gibbson attempted to speak with her early this morning, but she’s not saying anything. We don’t even have her last name and every time we try to get near her to take her fingerprints, she huddles herself into a ball in the corner.”
“She’s scared you’re going to hurt her,” I said.
“Yes.” Agent Marco rested his elbows on the desk and pressed the tips of his fingers together in front of his mouth. “Understandable, given what she went through last night and she doesn’t know us.” He brought his hands down to lay flat on the wooden surface. “Will you see if you can get through to her? Let her know we’re trying to help. I can bring in a psychiatrist—”
“I’ll talk to her.”
“Excellent.” He stood. “Well, then, let’s get your statements, and I’ll take you to see Mel.”
It took about a half hour for them to take our statements, and then they were leading us down a long hallway and into another building. We took a set of stairs to the second floor and down another long hall until we reached the end. There was a single door with a man standing outside.
The man, another agent given his appearance, nodded to Agent Marco as we approached. “How’s she doing?” he asked.
“About the same. I checked on her ten minutes ago and she was sitting on the bed staring at the wall.”
Agent Marco nodded and reached for the door.
“Can I . . .”
He stopped and turned to look at me.
Everyone was staring at me. I swallowed, still feeling the residual effects of being strangled the night before. “Can I talk to her alone?”
“I don’t know—”
Agent Marco cut Agent Gibbson short. “Sure. There’s a viewing area in the next room. We can watch from there.” He stepped back, clearing the way for me.
I took a step forward, but Stephan held tight to my hand. When I met his gaze, he lifted his hand to my face and rested his forehead against mine. “You know what to say if you need me.” He placed a kiss to my forehead and let me go.
After several deep breaths, I reached for the doorknob and twisted.
The door shut with a loud click behind me. Mel was on the bed staring at a spot on the wall. I crossed the room, making sure I wasn’t crowding her. “Mel? Do you remember me from last night?”
She turned to look at me, her eyes void of emotion. Then . . . there seemed to be some recognition.
I wasn’t used to being on this side of the situation, but I remembered what had helped me. “May I sit with you?”
Mel nodded.
Closing the distance, I sat on the other end of the bed. There was still a good two feet between us. “My name’s Brianna. Or you can call me Anna, if you want.”
She didn’t say anything.
“He hurt me, too. Like he did you. A few years ago. When I saw him going up in the elevator, I knew what he would do to you, so we called security.”
Her eyes seemed to focus then. “Your neck.”
I touched the red mark that would most likely linger there for the next week. “I’ll be okay. My neck is sore and my throat hurts, but I’ll survive. So will you.”
She closed her eyes.
We sat there for a while, neither of us saying anything. It wouldn’t help to push her too far too fast. I could only imagine the onslaught of questions Agent Gibbson had thrown at her. That wasn’t what she needed. Not right now. “Last night you told me your name was Mel. Is that short for something?”
She nodded. “Melanie.”
“Do you have a last name?”
I saw her tense. “I don’t. I don’t want them to know. If they know, they’ll call my parents and I . . .”
She was getting agitated and that wouldn’t help anyone. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.” I paused. “I understand all about not wanting your parents to know.”
“You do?” she asked.
I nodded. “My dad was responsible for me being taken.” While my father hadn’t personally sold me to Dumas, it was because of his debt that the man had decided to take me as payment.
/> “I wasn’t . . .” She glanced down. “I ran away.”
“I thought about running away from my dad’s house, but I didn’t. Then, I was taken. I tried to run away from the man who hurt me, but I wasn’t able to. Every time I tried, he caught me.”
“The same man who hurt me?” she asked.
“No. He was a friend of the man who hurt me and sometimes he’d let his friends hurt me, too.” I was trying to keep things as simple as possible, trying not to go into too much detail. It wasn’t about me.
“Oh.”
“Do you know the man who hurt you last night?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. I was cold, and he offered to buy me some food and said he could get me out of the cold for the night. I thought . . .” She met my gaze, moisture in her eyes. “I thought he wanted sex. And he seemed nice. I—” Her words got caught in her throat.
“Have you been on the streets for a long time?”
Mel didn’t answer right away, but I waited. Sometimes it took time deciding whether or not to share information. “No,” she whispered. “I ran away last week after . . .”
She pressed her lips together so tight they were turning white. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. But I’ll listen if you want to.” It was strange being on this side, but it felt good to help, even a little bit.
Again, she met my gaze, and then she looked at the wall. “I ran away because I didn’t want my parents to find out.” She pulled the sheet around her, holding it as if it would somehow protect her from what she was about to tell me. “My uncle. We were swimming. He . . .” She released a shaky breath and turned to look at me. “I can’t tell my parents. I can’t.” The last part was louder and more forceful.
“The only thing that matters right now is that you’re safe.”
She didn’t react.
The more I talked to her, the younger she seemed. “Mel, can I ask how old you are?”
That’s when the tears started.
It broke my heart seeing her like this and I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. I reached out my hand, hoping she’d take it. She did, but then she launched herself into my arms. It was completely unexpected, and I had to fight down my own response to the abrupt change.