NEARLY Trilogy

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NEARLY Trilogy Page 57

by Ashley, Devon


  “House it is,” I mumbled, climbing back into the car. “And I’m the one going inside, not you.”

  “Alright,” she replied without argument. “Her card is inside my wallet, which I hope is still in my bag on the barstool.

  “Unless the cops came in and took it,” she mumbled.

  “They did.”

  She sighed. “Alright. I made a copy of it and left it in the desk drawer with all the pens. Just in case I lost my wallet.”

  My smile was weak, but my lips surprised me by even curling that far given our current situation. That was my Megan. Always planning ahead, expecting the worst to happen. Sadly, she was usually right about the things that always went to shit.

  We sat in silence for a moment longer, both of us watching the entrance, fearful to turn away as the minutes passed by. I could hear the faintness of her breaths behind me, extending longer and longer as we realized no one was following us into the parking lot. Didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone out there, but it lessened the likelihood enough to feel comfortable driving home.

  Or maybe Zander was lying all along about someone watching his home, playing with our fears to slow us down, giving him more time to find a way out.

  Well, I wasn’t going to give that shithead the chance. He deserved whatever cell they threw him in the next thirty years.

  “Nick,” she said softly. I turned my head and rested it sideways on the head rest. She had both hands bracing her between the seats, her own head tilted toward me, her lips just inches from mine. The fluorescent light that hung nearby washed her skin out, making her look so forlorn. Her lips twitched before saying, “I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For getting you dragged into this. It’s bad enough I’ve been damaged. I never wanted that to happen to you too.”

  “I’m not damaged, Megan. And I’m not sorry I was there for it. I didn’t want to do the things I did any more than you did, but I’d do it all over again if it meant that I was there with you.”

  “Nick…” she said with disgust, like I was sick in the head for thinking that.

  “No, Megan. I know what it’s like to be on both sides of this now. And I have to tell you, not knowing was far worse than what I just subjected myself to. I know that probably sounds horrific, but what happened to me was nothing like it was for you. I did those things to him. Not the other way around, so…it wasn’t as damaging as it would’ve been if the roles were reversed.” All right, that last bit was a lie, but she didn’t need to know something more happened. Hell, I wasn’t even sure what happened other than what I saw on screen. I now understood why the things that happened to her in that basement didn’t damage her as much as her time with Zander did. The drugs made her forget. They made me forget. You had an idea of what happened by the way you felt after waking up, but there was no memory to make it real. And if it didn’t seem real, it wasn’t that likely to weigh you down.

  Unfortunately, I was wide awake for the blowjobs, and that was something that would disgust me until the day I died.

  “Quite honestly, I don’t understand how you’re sitting beside me right now so calm. Why you haven’t ripped into him like I have, I can’t figure. I saw an opportunity to smash in his face and his fucking cock and I took it without hesitation. You haven’t. And I’m not sure if I should be proud of you for being that strong, or worried shitless that you’re about to go full ballistic and break down any second once it catches up to you.”

  “I…” Looking defeated, she fell back and crashed onto the seat. When I turned my head forward, I could see her in the rearview mirror, looking down at her lap. Her body went through the motion of three silent sighs before she found the strength to go on. But even then, she couldn’t look up to meet my gaze.

  “I fought hard the first time he took me. He said he’d never rape me.” Even she paused long enough to roll her eyes. “Well, at least not by his fucked up definition of rape. In the end I had to let him just to keep from being sold. He got to have me three times and… Well, you saw what the last two weeks were like.

  “This time I knew there’d be no easy way out. He wouldn’t make the mistake of having another auction at his house. He went into full blown hiding. I didn’t know at the time that you were down the hall. Guess it didn’t really matter though. Neither one of us were going to have a chance of getting out of that house unless he fully trusted us. I knew it would be a long time before that could happen, but if I could convince him from the start that I was already admitting defeat, then maybe I could get there a little faster.”

  Her face lifted and her eyes found mine in the mirror. If she was checking for disgust or judgment, she wouldn’t find it with me. I’d never blame her for what she felt she needed to do to survive.

  So long as she survived.

  “I wanted to get back to you.” I caught a shimmering tear slide down her cheek right before her head fell down again. “So I let him have me right from the start. I just tried to shut myself down as best I could and tried not to let myself really think about what was happening. I tried to close my eyes to it all. Then I found out you were right there.”

  She reached up to sweep her cheeks. “He showed you, didn’t he?”

  My silence answered her question for me.

  “Stop,” I said softly. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. I knew what you were doing. And I promise you I wasn’t watching the things he put up on that television.

  “I know how much it horrified you what he was doing to me. I know, Megan. You have nothing to be ashamed of. There’s nothing I’m ever going to be mad about or resent you for. So please don’t let it bury you again. I’ll never stop loving you. I’ll never stop wanting you.”

  She really started crying then, her hands moving to hide away her face.

  “God, Megan.” I unclicked my seatbelt and stepped out, climbing in through the back. I pulled her into my arms and held her tight, trying to soothe her, but letting her just get it out all the same. I’d been wondering how she’d been holding it together so well. I think it was finally dawning on her that we might really be in the clear now, that we were this close to being free and having Zander behind bars.

  It didn’t matter how much of a front she’d been putting on. There was no way she wasn’t devastated, most likely even traumatized, by everything that happened these past few weeks. I just held her until she finally calmed down. I felt we had given it enough time, so I pulled out of the parking lot and continued driving home, where I prayed we wouldn’t find any resistance.

  “Seems safe,” Megan deduced as we scanned the forest outside our house. Her car was tucked away in the garage and no lights were on in the house.

  “Well, I’m pretty sure that guy reported to Zander that I was on my way to his house. And since he never showed up there after me, I can only assume Zander told him he’d take care of it from there. So maybe his job is done now.”

  “And nobody’s called his cell since you got there.”

  I nodded, remembering the sleek black object in the front pocket of my jeans.

  “Alright. I’m going in then.” I pulled the car up to the front door. I didn’t dare leave it down the lane for her to be attacked in the dark where I couldn’t see her. This way, the exterior house lights lit her up. “Keep the doors locked,” I ordered, stepping out with the gun held in my hand. She waved her own gun through the window to remind me she was well taken care of until I made it back.

  I unlocked the front door and moved inward with the gun held in the air before me. I flicked the light on right away. No one lying in wait. I took a swing around the kitchen island and the furniture in the living room, making sure no one was hiding. Then I took each room, closet and bathroom, turning on every single light as I moved through.

  While I was in the study, I found the copy Megan referred to and pocketed it. I also grabbed her a pair of jeans, fresh lingerie, a long-sleeved tee and her pair of Go Walks. Then I hustled back to the front, peeking
out the window to make sure she was still alright before going out. I locked myself back in the car, passing her clothes her way, hearing her mumble a thank God.

  “So now what?” she asked, leaning back on the seat to pull her jeans up.

  “Now we find a phone we know isn’t compromised and convince O’Neill why it’s best to keep Zander off the books.”

  “So tell me how you’re sleeping. How are you coping with your nightmares?”

  I twisted a loose thread between my fingers that I found hanging off the hem of my heather grey t-shirt. My eyes remained settled on my thighs, not giving too much notice to Dr. Vitriz as I sat on the far end of the chaise. I used to find the curvy lounge chair quite soothing to sit in during our sessions, but now it reminded me far too much of that first night with Zander, and images were trying to play out in my head that I preferred to go without.

  “I’ve only had two since I last saw you.”

  “Really?” she commented with surprise. “That’s wonderful. Tell me, are they the same as before or something new?”

  “They’re not about Zander anymore.” I guessed I no longer considered him a threat now that he was behind bars. Besides, there were far worse things out there to fixate on than the doings of Zander Malone. “They’re about Friggs. And…I don’t really want to talk about what exactly happens in them. Not yet.”

  I yanked the thread from my clothing, taking an extra inch with it that hadn’t been unraveled.

  “Alright, I understand. But still, two. That’s quite an improvement from a month ago.”

  “I think having a cop outside my hotel room every night and another following me everywhere I go helps a lot. I just wish the police would hurry up and go after Friggs already. I don’t understand why this is taking so long and why nobody will even tell me what’s going on. I hide out in a room all day and night. My family had to come to me to see me. Do you know that this is just the third time they’ve let me out? And the other two times was just to let me and Nick go next door to the diner so we didn’t have to have take-out again. I feel like a fucking prisoner.”

  “Well, you are in a way. Temporarily,” she added, when my eyes shot daggers toward hers. “Megan, you and Nick are victims in a crime. You’re incredibly lucky to be given this kind of attention. It goes to show how important this case is to the police and that they want to keep you safe until they apprehend this guy. I know it’s confining, but just try to enjoy the personal time you’re getting with Nick right now. You did say you’re more comfortable around him this time than the last. Right?”

  “Surprisingly, yeah.”

  “Why surprisingly?” she asked curiously, her pen scribbling away on her notepad. I had no idea why she was bothering, given that she asked my permission to record this conversation.

  I released a heavy breath slowly. “Because he was there. Because that asshole made videos of us and played them nonstop in his room, just to humiliate me and try to cause a rift between us. Because Nick found it in his power to spare me a rape by letting Zander manipulate him.” I began looping the thread around my index finger. Back and forth. Back and forth. Little red lines appeared around my finger each time it unwound. “And because I should be utterly ashamed by what he got to do to me right in front of my boyfriend, who couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it.”

  She was quiet for a minute. Maybe she thought I was just pausing again. Truthfully, I just didn’t want to talk about it anymore. It was still too fresh.

  “Perhaps you don’t feel that uncomfortable around him this time because he too was humiliated by this man. In front of you, no less. I know it’s not the way you’d prefer to look at it, but you’re both victims this time. You equally shared in the horror and humiliation under the direction of this twisted individual, who spared you no mercy.

  “Tell me. Have you and Nick been intimate since you’ve been freed?”

  “Intimate? Yes. Have we had sex? No.”

  She nodded her head and wrote something down. “Define intimate.”

  I absently shrugged my shoulder. “I’m comfortable with him holding me, kissing me.”

  “So are you not comfortable with the idea of sex physically or emotionally? Or is it Nick who’s having these concerns?”

  I had been focusing on the image of being wrapped up in Nick’s arms since I mentioned it, and I felt a soft, soothing rush of…something, spread throughout my body. I couldn’t really define it, but it earned the slightest smile from me. “I think it’s both of us. Honestly, we haven’t even discussed sex. Neither of us have even tried to take it that far. We don’t even strip down any further than the normal sleep clothes we wear.”

  “And are you alright with that, or do you feel guilty about the abstinence like you did before?”

  “I don’t feel guilty this time. I think we’re just taking it slow right now. But it doesn’t help that we’re both stressing out over this deadline.” Hell, being locked up as we were, stressing out was just a given on a daily basis. We couldn’t live in a hotel forever. We wanted to get back to our lives and family already.

  “Completely understandable. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to discuss your feelings toward Mr. Malone.”

  “Don’t call him that,” I practically snarled. Her face grew puzzled, unaware of why I’d be offended by that. “Saying his name like that only grants respect to a man who clearly doesn’t deserve any.”

  Her head bounced once in acknowledgement. “Certainly. I’ll call him Zander from now on.”

  More scribbling. Was she writing a reminder of what to call him, or something more along the line that I was losing my marbles?

  “So…tell me about Zander. Tell me how you’re feeling right now.”

  Again I shrugged. “Screw him.”

  Dr. Vitriz almost let loose a chuckle. Almost…

  “Are you telling me you don’t feel any way about him? Because that’s impossible. Only an absolute stranger could affect you so, and even then you’d probably be inclined to react some way just on appearance and how they express themselves.”

  “I’m sure I have many feelings in regards to Zander.” Flatly, I said, “I just don’t care anymore. He’s raped me, humiliated me, dominated and manipulated me. Even taken the one person I love most in this world and done the same to him. Fuck that asshole and everything about him.” He even made me feel things I couldn’t take back, shameful things that I would take to my grave. “I hope he rots in that ten-by-ten foot cube until the day he dies. I’d say I hoped he got abused in prison the way I was by him, but the bastard would probably find a way to enjoy it.

  “Something happened to me in the past few weeks. Yeah, I know that if he were free right now and able to come after me, that he probably would. That he’d try to lock me away and continue to screw with me. But I’m not going to be scared of him anymore. I’m not going to let fear fester and toy with me in such a way that I’m not even functional. I already did that once and it got me nowhere. I am done letting him get to me.”

  She was eyeing me curiously, seriously, her chin resting above her fisted hand. “Those are some very strong words, Megan. Do you really feel you can put Zander and what he did to you behind you?”

  “Behind me?” That was utterly laughable. “No. Never. I’ll never be able to erase or forgive what he’s done, and he’s not even worthy of that forgiveness. But I refuse to keep letting him have this power over me. I’m not going to hide in some secluded house in the middle of nowhere. I’m not going to avoid my family like the plague. And I’m not going to let Nick and I work shitty ass jobs that we hate just to better hide from someone like him. I’m not going to live that way anymore.”

  “So what if I told you that you haven’t seen the last of Zander? That it’ll be necessary to not only see him but suffer through the humiliation all over again because of certain evidence brought to trial?”

  “I already assumed I’d have to when the time came. Yeah, it’ll suck, but I’ll do whatever’s necessary to g
et that bastard in jail.”

  Dr. Vitriz leaned to drop her notepad and pencil on the table beside her. My gaze automatically fell to the paper, but she was smart enough to hide her cursive penmanship with a top blank page. “I’m going to be completely honest with you now, Megan.”

  Oh, hell. That was never a good lead in.

  She dropped the foot that was dangling over her knee and leaned forward, her hands fisted together in front of her. “I asked you here today because the police department asked me to assess your mental health.”

  I huffed and rolled my eyes. “Already? Seriously? It’s been a week.” I am fucking sunshine.

  “Exactly,” she replied. “But I’m incredibly proud of how you’re dealing. Normally, I would tell the patient that they’re in denial over what happened and hiding their true feelings deep inside somewhere, thinking they could just bury them so deep they’d never be bothered by them again. But you’ve been down this road before. And you did admit to the expected issues and that you were trying to overcome them. So I believe you when you say you’ve learned to be strong and that allowing Zander to hinder you emotionally moving forward would be fruitless. Though I imagine there’s a little going on inside you, I don’t believe it’s enough that you couldn’t be of use to the police at this moment.”

  Confused, I asked, “What do you mean? Is something going on? Is that why they have me on lockdown?”

  “They have you under surveillance because you’re important to the investigation and possibly a primary target of another suspect they’d love to arrest. The police wanted to know if you’d be emotionally able to sit down with Zander.”

 

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