Hush

by Anne Malcom

  And because it was fucking Ri.

  He wanted to protect them both. He had to protect them from each other. April would want to see her. Hug her. Be with her.

  Orion had made it clear she wasn’t ready or equipped for a reunion with her past.

  He had wanted to hold off until she’d acclimated to her situation, maybe for some more sessions with the shrink. He wanted to be in control. To reduce the impact it would have on the both of them. But of course, April wasn’t about to let him control such things. She hadn’t forgotten about her best friend either. Her kind heart held a scar for ten years.

  “How the fuck did you know they were here?” he demanded.

  She rolled her eyes, getting to her feet, stretching dramatically before bending down to retrieve the empty flask and her purse from the floor.

  This made him even more furious. Not only had she barged in here, she got them drunk and stoned. Though Maddox might not have been a shrink, he knew trauma well enough to understand that treating anything resembling what they’d been through with substances was unstable and reckless at best. Fatal at worst.

  “We live together, Maddox,” April said. She straightened and winked at Eric, who was not hiding his amusement. Where was his straight-laced love for the rules? It always seemed to fall to the wayside when he was around April.

  Maddox hadn’t missed the way his partner changed ever so slightly when he was around his sister. The way April stared at him. He’d been keeping an eye on it for years, but no way would he outright forbid April. That was a good way to ensure she chased Eric even harder.

  “You talk loud. And not just at dawn when I’m hungover,” April complained. She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Ugh . . .”

  “This is so fucking inappropriate, April,” Maddox bit out, trying to tamp down his fury, considering he was in a room with three women who had been at the mercy of angry and violent men for years.

  Years.

  He took a deep breath, steadied himself.

  “You don’t have some right to them, big brother,” April snapped, her light goading disappearing and true anger replacing it. “They aren’t yours to control.”

  She made sure to hit the nerve that would always be exposed between the two of them. His need to protect her from being just another loved one taken from him, and her need to cope with her demons with as many foolish decisions as she could cram into ten years. They were siblings and they were friends, but they were also rivals. April resented him for always trying to protect her, for being overbearing. He resented her for always putting herself in danger, thinking she was invincible, for always making him worry.

  April leaned into the mirror, wincing at her reflection, yanking her hair into a pile at the top of her head, licking her fingers and wiping at the black stains underneath her eyes. “Jesus, I look like dog shit.”

  “Get out, Ape,” Maddox said, motioning toward the door with his thumb.

  She turned, ignored Maddox, and instead smiled at Eric.

  He smiled back at her. Which of course, only made Maddox more furious.

  He had to tamp it down, he knew this. He was the lead detective in this case—and would be unless the Feds decided to take over—and this entire situation was already out of control. He wasn’t about to be thrown off the case . . . or worse yet, suspended. Eric was being a good friend by not reporting the conflict of interest, and the outburst at the hospital, but it was only a matter of time before his relationship with Orion came out . . . only a matter of time before his bottled-up anger exploded yet again.

  Maddox’s bosses liked him, hence making detective as young as he had, and they gave him breaks. The sheriff was his biggest fan, being a family friend and all. As for the Clark County Chief Administrator Abigail Martin, well, she had never really liked Maddox. She knew all about his extracurricular activities and kept a close eye on his police work. Because his work remained consistent and proficient, she never had a reason to punish him. But this blatant violation and conflict of interest, his sister getting them drunk and high, could bring more than just suspension. It could take his career.

  Letting his emotions get the better of him was not a good move right now. So instead he lapsed back into routine. He took in the room littered with fast food, rumpled sheets. No Orion, but he heard the running water coming from the closed bathroom door and made his guess that she was in there. The fact she was up and able to shower told him she was, at least, less hungover than the other three, who moved like sloths.

  “We’ll talk soon, babe?” April addressed Jaclyn, bringing the woman in for a hug.

  Maddox half expected the aggressive woman to sucker punch his sister, but to his surprise, she hugged her back, tightly. “Of course,” she said, letting her go. She even smiled. “You’re the shit!”

  Fucking April. Could make anyone her friend. There was something about his sister, a charisma that drew everyone in. Made them like her, warm to her. Let their guards down. If he wasn’t so fucking furious at her, he would’ve been thankful she helped soften the hard edges of these broken and scarred women.

  April moved to Shelby, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, squinting at the cartoons playing on the muted TV. She stretched her arms high in the air and let out a big yawn. There was something childlike about the way she did that and it hit Maddox square in the gut.

  “Love you, Shelbs,” April said. She squeezed her small hand. Maddox noted she treated her gently. His sister had seen the way the woman held herself, the fact she was the most vulnerable of the bunch.

  Shelby smiled, and it was bright, innocent, and beautiful. “Thanks for everything, April,” she said, glancing at the men shyly before darting her gaze back to the TV.

  “Anytime,” his sister said, smiling with a sadness Maddox hated.

  He’d wanted to protect her from this. From the truth of how broken these women really were. But that was embedded in her now. April saw more than most and took in the troubles of the world unlike anyone. She was an empath. She carried people’s pain around as well as her own.

  The door to the bathroom opened, and he was hit in the face with everything that was Ri.

  Her hair was damp, skin flushed from the shower. She had no freckles anymore, he’d seen that immediately, of course, but it was more prominent now. Her face was all angles. Angles that sharpened when she took in Maddox and Eric standing near the door. She did not address them beyond her scowl.

  Maddox didn’t blame her. He understood her anger. Her fear. She was being thrust back into a life she didn’t recognize anymore. None of her family was alive. Telling her about Adam was the hardest thing Maddox had ever done in his life. She’d been through hell, worse than hell for the past ten years. Escaping that should have meant there were no blows left to take. No more open wounds doused with salt.

  Losing Adam cut her the deepest, he saw that. Her little brother was her everything, the only good thing in her family, and he was gone. Maddox had not only failed to protect her, failed to find her, but he failed at protecting her brother too. He was a just a kid when Orion was taken, and he had no one to help him with the grief. Maddox wanted to be there, wanted to help the young boy who had to grow up too fast, but he didn’t know how to. He was barely able to keep himself alive through the pain of losing her, of feeling disconnected from the world, of a career that found him dealing with the dregs of society, and victims who would never get their true due justice. He lost sight of himself, and his responsibility to Orion, to make sure her brother was okay, safe, alive.

  He wanted to apologize. Fall at her feet and beg for forgiveness. Wanted to yank her into his arms, press a kiss to her forehead, and promise her everything was going to be alright. That he would be by her side and fight to take away her pain, even if that pain could never really go away. He wanted to catch every monster responsible for this and make them pay.

  April didn’t give him a chance to do anything, and he would never actually admit it, but he was glad o
f the save.

  He knew she wanted to hug Ri, but everything in her body language screamed that such a thing was a bad idea. So April stood awkwardly in front of her, and she put two hands on Ri’s shoulders. “I love you. I really do,” she said, sounding far less confident and sure of herself than he’d heard in a long time. “And I’m so fucking thankful you’re here, Ri.”

  Ri stiffened. “It’s Orion now.”

  Maddox knew his sister. He knew her better than anyone, so he was impressed at the fact she could still smile through the pain he knew she felt at that dead tone and the empty stare. The coldness in Orion’s voice.

  “You’ll always be Ri to me, babe,” she finally said, forcing cheer into the words. And she forced a smile. “The parents would love to see you sometime . . . when you’re ready.”

  Ri—Orion, had a reaction to that. A small one, but Maddox guessed that even a small crack in her façade was something big. She nodded, accepted.

  “I just need a little time,” Orion said meekly.

  April nodded in understanding.

  “April,” he snapped, remembering his job, his badge, and his responsibilities. “Move it!”

  She walked casually toward the door and glared at him with glassy eyes. “I’m leaving, you fat cunt.”

  The other girls in the room cracked up, and April looked back at them and winked.

  “I’m not fat, so that doesn’t even work,” Maddox argued.

  “Yeah, okay.” April opened the door and eyed the two detectives for a moment. “Ahem . . . what about you two pervs?” She gazed pointedly between Maddox and Eric. “There are women here who obviously need to change, get cleaned up—and don’t worry ladies, we’ll be going shopping to remedy the crimes of fashion the police have committed upon you as soon as humanly possible—and I’m sure they don’t need an audience.”

  “We’re following you out,” Eric interjected smoothly before Maddox strangled his sister Homer Simpson style.

  His gaze flickered to Orion, just to make sure she was still there, that she was real. She didn’t look away when he met her eyes. She held his gaze with determination and a little hostility, some stubbornness he recognized from her childhood that had matured a little.

  “Yeah. Uh huh. Let’s go, Grandpa,” April said, motioning toward the open door.

  He sneered at his sister. “I’m only two years older than you, so that doesn’t really work either.” He looked at Orion. “Okay, well, we’ll be right outside, ladies,” he said awkwardly.

  April cackled.

  Orion didn’t respond.

  There were reporters.

  Outside the hotel.

  Outside the police department.

  Orion figured there would be a private entrance for this kind of thing.

  Apparently not.

  Shelby’s parents had insisted on taking her in their car, even though it had been explained to them that they wouldn’t be able to be in the interview room with her.

  They had been adamant their daughter was not going anywhere without them.

  Somehow, they were unaware that their little girl had been drinking and getting stoned the night before. Though it did make sense, since it was likely the first night of real sleep they’d had since she was taken.

  Shelby had been walking home from cheerleading practice when it happened. Like Orion, she just never came home. Unlike Orion, her parents loved her, cared for her, missed her. They had raised the alarm immediately. Mounted community searches. Gone on TV with rewards for their daughter’s safe return. They’d hired private investigators when the police gave up.

  They never stopped.

  Orion had seen it on them when she met them. The exhaustion that sank into their bones. The sorrow etched into their eyes.

  She understood them clinging to Shelby like they did. She’d observed that kind of love. She reckoned that’s what April’s parents would’ve been like if their daughter had been taken.

  She hated Shelby a little for a snatch of a second. Right until she met her eyes from the car window. There was panic in them. These people were strangers to her. Orion and Jaclyn were her pillars of safety, despite the fact they never really protected her from anything. But how could they have? Plus, they were familiar. Shelby didn’t do well with change. Fuck, she didn’t utter a word for most of her time in The Cell. Cried mostly, wept. It made sense, considering what they went through.

  Shelby coming from a loving home, never knowing any violence beyond a tap on her behind when she had been in trouble in her youth. It was understandable that she had reacted the way she did. It made sense that she broke.

  But no one really thought of the jarring trauma that came with being rescued. Everyone expected elation at being saved and tasting freedom again.

  But they hadn’t been saved. And freedom was a thin façade.

  The only way to save them would be to erase the captivity from their lives, to give them all those years back, to take away their agony. Impossible tasks, to be sure.

  Orion did her best to cling to her mask. The one she’d perfected from years of torture and rape. Somehow, it was harder holding it in place with camera flashes and questions being yelled in her face—this feeling that came to her as the media fought to get those pictures and questions, that these people saw her as only a story, not a human being with real feelings and emotions. In that way, they were not that much different than her captors.

  “How does it feel to be out?” one of them yelled.

  “What do you have to say to your rescuers?” another reporter shouted.

  Orion kept her gaze on Maddox’s back, like she had in the hospital.

  An anchor.

  One she didn’t want. But one she needed. Right now, at least. Soon she’d have to grow strong enough to lose him all over again. Strong enough to stain her hands and clean her soul.

  The police separated them.

  Orion should’ve been expecting that.

  But she wasn’t.

  All of her instincts were dull, her thoughts soft, but her nerves had a hard edge.

  The room looked like an interrogation room in the movies. Desk in the middle. Mirror to the left. A D.A.R.E. poster on the wall.

  She sipped a shitty coffee. She didn’t like coffee, but she hadn’t had the opportunity to grow to like it. Isn’t that what happened when you went to college, got a job? Became an adult? You started drinking coffee . . . and slowly, you started to enjoy it.

  She drank it more for something to do than anything else, and the little buzz it gave her. She needed the energy after spending most of the night pretending to sleep amongst the giggles and loud whispers. She had quietly seethed at them all, but most of all at herself for not being able to join in, to be part of it.

  But she couldn’t. Orion knew the second she saw Jaclyn’s face when she talked about what she wanted to do to the doctor. She knew that she was alone in her vengeance, in her anger. That something different was broken inside of her. Something that would serve as a barrier from ever being able to make any kind of human connections. She felt an unnatural evil simmering beneath the surface.

  Maddox had affected her more than she could admit. His blue eyes were searing into her skin. The way he interacted with April. He had been mad at her, but there was a softness to that anger. A caring. She had been surprised at the mention they lived together. She didn’t want to be curious as to how that came about. She didn’t want to know about what had happened in their lives since she’d been gone.

  But she was forced to with Maddox being the investigator on this case. Another cruel twist of fate.

  She tried to sink into herself. Into her cold, hard interior, to the place where she retreated constantly these past ten years.

  It didn’t work.

  Especially not when the door opened and Maddox and Eric strolled in. Not when he smiled at her.

  She narrowed her eyes as they sat down across from her. “You’re shitting me.”

  Maddox’s eyebrows r
aised in question.

  Orion forced herself to take one slow breath, keeping her gaze even and not look away from his stare. “You can’t be interviewing me. Isn’t that a conflict of interest or something?”

  Something flickered on his face. He looked to his partner and then to the mirror. Orion wondered if there was a lineup of his superiors watching. She guessed this was a big case. It’s not every day that you find girls that had been missing for years, and the bodies of others. Not every day you find a house of horrors. A lot of publicity.

  Maddox cleared his throat awkwardly. “I can leave, if you’re not comfortable.”

  “No,” she said. Almost shouted. “No, it’s fine. We’re really strangers now anyway, aren’t we?” It was an effort to shrug her shoulders with disinterest, but she did it.

  Maddox’s jaw stiffened and his hands balled into fists on top of the table. He wanted to argue with her, she saw it. But he held it together. If she had to guess, Orion would say that the only reason he was able to stay on this case—that is, if his superiors knew of their connection—was if he held on to his cop mask. Didn’t let emotions seep in. She decided it would be her personal challenge to goad him into a reaction, just so she would get a respite from him.

  Eric cleared his throat, glancing to Maddox then back at her. “So, we want to go through this as painlessly as possible, but we do need to get as much information as you can remember.”

  Orion laughed. “Don’t worry. I know there’s no such thing as painless. I can handle it.”

  Maddox balled his fists tighter. He didn’t like the reminder that she knew pain as an unwelcome friend. Orion made a mental note of that.

  She focused on Eric. His eyes were kind but detached. She liked that. That he knew he had to separate his humanity. She didn’t need it.

  “We have been searching the house where you were . . . kept,” he said. “In our search, so far, we’ve found the remains of three persons. Yet to determine age or identity. But definitely three. Probably more. We’re wondering if you might know how many we’re gonna find . . . who they are.”

  Orion felt the acid in her stomach crawl up her throat. A memory forced itself from the depths of her soul.