by Alice Ward
That was when a woman found me, and most everything was a blur after that. She caught me when I ran, holding me down while she called the police. She kept telling me that everything was going to be all right, but I hadn’t believed her. There were police officers and lots of other people who came to our house. Then we were taken to the hospital where I’d been poked with needles that hurt.
Then, we got to live with Mee-maw.
Right here in this apartment.
A place this haggard looking creature shouldn’t be.
“What do you want?”
She laughed. “Is that any way to talk to your mother?”
I lifted my chin. “You aren’t a mother. You’re a monster. And you need to leave.”
The woman who had given birth to me and Jaz reached into her pocket and pulled out a gun. Jasmine shuffled back, and I shuffled in front of her. But Rachel Walker didn’t lift it, just held it by her side. “Glad that I got your attention, you ungrateful little bitch. I’m here because you owe me and it’s time to pay.”
I stared at her, trying to comprehend.
“What are you talking about?”
The gun twitched at her side.
“They’re going to get me.” She began scratching at her arm. “I can’t let them get me. Where’s my mom? Is she dead? Slant Eyes said she was dead. She can’t be dead. She’s supposed to help me.”
As she ranted, I inched Jasmine closer to the bathroom, all while trying to understand why Rachel was here. Maybe this apartment was her last hope. Maybe she hadn’t even known we were here. She’d shown up, hoping her own mother would help her.
From what? Who?
“Get back here!” she yelled, waving the gun in my direction.
I froze. I needed to get her out of here. “Do you need money?”
She kept scratching. “Yeah. I’ve got to get out of here. They’re trying to find me.”
“I can give you money. We’ll go buy you a bus ticket. You can get away from them. Are you hungry?”
“Money. Ticket. Money. Ticket.” She grinned, and the evil came alive in her again. Her face changed as she laughed. “My ticket is buying me a ticket. Such a pretty little thing.”
I swallowed hard. “We need to go to the bank. Then we’ll go to the bus stop. You’ll be safe soon.”
“Tick-et. Tick-et. Tick-et.”
I remembered that look. “Touch yourself there and smile for the camera.”
Jasmine’s hand squeezed mine, and I knew I needed to get some semblance of control. “Are the bad people close?”
The wild look returned. “Yes. They want me. They want me dead.”
I made my eyes go wide, my voice urgent, trying to feed into her fear. “Then we need to hurry. We need to get you out of here.” I turned to Jaz. “You stay here.”
Jaz looked terrified, then that mulish expression took over. “No.”
I gritted my teeth. “Jaz, you have to stay. I won’t be gone long. You can track my phone and see where I am, remember?”
“No.”
Panic wanted to seize me, but I needed to stay clear. I turned to Rachel. “Let’s go. Let’s hurry.” When she didn’t move, I went to my bag and picked it up. Inside, my phone pinged, but I ignored it and got my keys. “Hurry. We need to go. Who are we running from?”
Maybe if I could make her talk, we had a chance.
“Cross. He’s bad. So bad.” Her hand came down on my wrist like a claw. “He’s going to get me.”
Bile rose in my throat. “We won’t let that happen. We’ll get you safe.” I took her hand. She was only bones and skin, and I could feel the veins move under my touch. I gagged as more memories flashed. “Let’s go.”
“Cross and Skull. They’ll kill me. After all this time, they’ll kill me.” She started to cry and her nails dug into my arm. “I did everything for them. The babies. I gave them all the babies. I was good to them.”
Pain punched into my gut. We needed to leave, but I had to know. “How many babies?”
“Twelve. No, thirteen. I think. I don’t know. But I was good to them and they turned on me.”
She wasn’t making sense, and as much as I wanted to know everything. As much as I wanted to know every detail of where she’d been these past eighteen years and why she thought of babies as currency… I needed her gone.
“My bank is just down the street.” I headed toward the door and she followed. Relief flooded through me. Then Jasmine came our way too. “Please, Jaz. Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
“No.”
Not knowing what else to do, I pushed Rachel through the door and closed it behind me. “We need to hurry,” I told her. “We need to get away from Cross and Skull.”
“They’ll kill me if they find me.”
We were down the first flight when I heard the door open. “We need to run then. Be quick.”
My heart was pounding so hard, I was surprised it didn’t explode. The door at the bottom of the steps opened, and Rachel had the presence of mind to tuck the gun in her pocket just before Charlie Jr. opened his door.
I had no time for this. Footsteps were coming from behind me. “Hurry.”
“What are you doing?”
Ignoring Charlie, I pulled Rachel through the door, practically dragging her down the outside steps.
Now that we were away, should I try to get the gun? Get to my phone and call for help? Just get the money and put her on the bus?
The sound of tires burning on our normally quiet street got my attention, as did the roar of an engine. I looked up and saw it. Black sedan. Dark windows. The back window was open, and a man looked at us.
Vaguely, I wondered if he was Cross or if he was Skull, but there was no time for more because the gun he was holding began to blast.
What came first, the chicken or the egg?
I didn’t know.
I’d never know because a bullet slammed into me like a train.
Jaz. Grant. Nash.
Pain on top of pain.
I loved them all.
But that didn’t matter anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Nash
Grant was like a caged animal as he paced the apartment floor.
We’d sparred in his gym for over a half hour before he tossed down his gloves, wanting to make sure that Journey had gotten up.
“Why didn’t she even say goodbye?”
It wasn’t the first time he’d asked the question. And I had no better answer. “Maybe she didn’t think to look in the gym.”
He stabbed a finger at his phone, lifted it to his ear. Cursed. Did it again.
“Something’s wrong.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d said that either, but this time, he headed toward the door. I jogged to catch him by the time he was stabbing at the elevator button. “Where are you going?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
In the lobby, he called for his car. “Which one, sir?”
Grant whirled on the man and I pushed him back. “Doesn’t matter. Any of them. Or any of mine. Just hurry.”
The valet took one look at Grant’s face and ran.
A few minutes later, the Land Rover pulled up to the door and I took the keys. Grant didn’t argue, just jumped in the passenger seat. “Go,” he ordered.
Traffic wasn’t too bad on a Sunday evening and we made good time to Murray Hill. If traffic had been bad, I’d have been watching Grant run the blocks. His worry was starting to make me worry.
“I’m sure she’s fine.”
I said it more for myself than for him.
He stabbed his phone, and this time, the car’s Bluetooth picked it up. Straight to voicemail. “Hey, this is Journey. You know what to do.”
Turning the last corner, I saw it before Grant did because he was busy stabbing at his phone again.
Police lights. A shitload of them.
In front of Journey’s building.
I braked, and Grant looked up, and I’d n
ever seen another person look so lost.
He just sat there, frozen. But only for a minute. Before I could stop him, he was bursting out of the car.
“Shit.”
Pulling to the curb, I was behind him, grabbing his arm when he about decked a policeman.
“What happened?” he yelled at the man, who looked like he was ready to cuff my friend. Maybe I should let him.
“This is a crime scene, sir.”
My gut clenched, and I looked around. Sure enough, there was yellow crime tape surrounding a section of the sidewalk. And two drying pools of blood.
I pushed Grant aside and got in the officer’s face. “What happened! Who was… hurt?” I couldn’t say the word killed. “Please, man. Was it a girl? A young woman? Long dark hair.” I held a hand up in front of me. “This tall.”
Grant stepped in. “She was wearing jean shorts and a white shirt that came off the shoulders.”
I looked at him. The asshole was really in love.
“Sir, I can’t say. This is a crime scene.”
What the fuck? Was this man human or a robot?
“Look…” Grant snarled. “I own this building. Is the entire building a crime scene?”
The officer relented. “No. Just this sidewalk and one of the apartments.”
“Which apartment, dammit. Can you just give me a number?”
The man looked to his left, then his right. “3C. But that’s all I can say.”
That was all he needed to say because Grant bent over and puked.
Fuck.
I moved closer to the officer, dialing down my anger and fear, trying to tap into his humanity. “Man, his fiancée lives in 3C. Journey Walker and her sister, Jasmine. Have some mercy. Just tell me, alive or…” I still couldn’t say it.
“Look, I just got here to help control the scene, okay? I don’t know details.” He lowered his voice. “There were two female victims. One DOA by the time she got to the med center. Not sure about the other. That’s all I can say.” He looked behind me. “Tell your friend that I’m sorry for his loss.”
Pain stabbed at me, but I needed to hold my shit together for my friend. I looked back at Grant, who was staring at something on the sidewalk. “Hey,” the officer yelled when Grant staggered toward the yellow tape. I got to him first and held him back.
And then I saw what he saw.
A silver bracelet was lying next to one of the pools of drying blood. It had a heart for the clasp. I knew it well.
When Grant fell to his knees, I didn’t stop him.
I joined him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Journey
I’d gone between bouts of wakefulness and sleep, but I didn’t know for how long. But when my eyes opened again, I felt clearer.
Maybe that was what pain did. Made everything more alive.
I groaned when I tried to move, and my vision pulsed. So did my arm.
Jasmine appeared in my field of vision. She’d been crying. “Are you okay?”
I wasn’t sure yet but I smiled. I didn’t want to lie, but she didn’t need to know the whole truth either. “I don’t think today is going to be my most epic-est.”
She squeezed my hand. “But it will be your okay-est?”
I laughed but pain cut it off. What had happened to me?
“Miss Walker?”
The other voice startled me, making me jump. I winced, and Jasmine yelled, “Don’t scare her. Can’t you see she’s having a bad day?”
Slowly, because it felt like my neck and head might fall off if I moved them too fast, I looked over at the person on my left. A severe looking woman wearing a navy pantsuit and her hair pulled back from her face nodded, then she smiled, and the gleam of her white teeth against her mocha skin changed everything about her, and I relaxed a little.
“Hello, Miss Walker. I’m Agent Denise Greene with the FBI.” She flashed her badge to prove it, but my vision was too blurry to read it. “I know this is a difficult time, but I need to ask you some questions. And I need you to make some important decisions. You have a head injury, so we’ll go slow, but we need to have this conversation now if possible.”
I nodded and lifted my right hand to my temple because my left arm was strapped to my body. “What happened to me?”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You were lucky. You caught a bullet in your shoulder, and when you fell, you hit your head. A doctor will be in shortly to give you additional details about your injury, but I can assure you that you’ll be okay. The bullet was a clean in and out, and it missed bone. No surgery was required. Like I said, lucky.”
I would have been luckier not to have gotten shot in the first place, but I didn’t see sense in arguing the point. I was alive. Jasmine was alive. Our mother…
I licked my dry lips. “What about the woman who was with me?”
“Rachel Walker.”
“Yes.”
Agent Greene’s lips pressed together again. “I’m sorry. She didn’t make it.”
Jasmine spoke up. “I’m not sorry. She was a bad woman.”
She was right. Rachel Walker was a bad woman. A woman I never expected to ever see again.
“What happened?”
I stared at Agent Greene as she told us of a dangerous motorcycle club the FBI had been trying to nail down. “Think Hell’s Angels then multiply that by eleven.”
“They don’t sound very nice,” Jaz said.
Agent Greene smiled at her. “They’re not. We’ve been after them for years, but they’re like cockroaches. They are very hard to kill.”
“What does that have to do with me? With Jasmine?”
“Miss Walker—”
“Please, call me Journey.”
She nodded. “Journey, we’ve had you and your sister’s information on file for a very long time.” She looked at Jasmine. “Eighteen years. We believed then, and it was confirmed today, that your mother was involved in this gang, and their primary purpose was child trafficking.”
I closed my eyes.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know how much you know about the circumstances of your birth, but it appeared that around that time was when the gang added child porn to their menu of services. We believe that was why you were retained and not sold.”
I nodded. I’d heard this before.
Agent Greene looked at Jasmine and then me. “Is it okay to have this conversation right now, or do we need, um, additional privacy?”
I looked at my sister. Most people considered those with Down Syndrome as forever children. It was true in some ways. Untrue in others. But did Jasmine need to hear this? She’d asked me so many questions over the years, questions I couldn’t answer, that a part of me thought it would be healing for her to know the whole truth. The big protective sister blanched at the thought of her knowing the filth I knew was involved in this story. I wasn’t sure what to do.
Jaz made the choice for me. “I’m not leaving.”
I took a deep breath, winced as my shoulder sang with the movement, and slowly rotated my head back to Agent Greene. “Tell us.”
She pulled a small recording device from her pocket. “Okay to record?”
I nodded.
She clicked a button and spoke into the recorder, giving her name, the date, time, and place of the interview. “Do I have your permission to record our conversation?” she asked, holding the recorder out.
“Yes,” I said.
“Yes,” Jasmine said, “I swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth so help me God.”
Agent Greene and I both smiled.
Soon enough, she was all business again. “After Jasmine’s birth, and you and she were found, a woman… a Jane Doe… had been admitted to the hospital. She was in a coma for several days. She’d obviously given birth recently, but she wouldn’t speak to anyone after she woke up. There had been a frantic search for a baby, but none was found. At least not until you were discovered going through a trash can.”
I nodded. I co
uldn’t eat a banana to this day.
“Before a connection was made, your mother—”
I held up a hand. “Don’t call her that.”
Agent Greene cleared her throat. “Sorry. Before the connection was made, Jane Doe had escaped from the hospital. Even under an extensive manhunt we were unable to find her. When you were found however, there was one piece of mail in the apartment that linked you to Melinda Walker.”
Mee-maw. My heart squeezed.
“That’s how we learned who Jane Doe was. DNA tests confirmed that Jane Doe was related to Melinda Walker and to both you and Jasmine. Rachel Walker has been high on our most wanted list for years because we believed she was connected to The Skulls.”
Memory jolted me. “That’s who my m…” I cleared my throat. “That’s one of the people Rachel said was after her. Skull and Cross.”
Agent Greene pulled out a notepad and jotted this down. “Skull is the leader. Cross is close second.”
“And Rachel knew them? Worked with them? What?”
Agent Greene glanced up at Jaz again. “She was part of them, yes. My theory was that she had aged out of her usefulness.”
She couldn’t have more babies. I shivered. I had many more siblings out in the world. And I couldn’t even imagine what their lives had been like.
“She probably knew her time was up, and she ran. She ran to the only place that was familiar to her.”
“Mee-maw’s apartment.” I’d already guessed that.
“Yes. Jasmine has given me her account of what happened when Rachel approached your apartment door. Can you give me your account too?”
I did, telling her every detail I could recall up to the moment the bullet hit me.
“That’s very helpful, Journey.” She leaned closer to me, her expression intense. “Do you think you could recognize the man who pulled the trigger?”
I closed my eyes and his face appeared. “Yes.”
Agent Greene smiled again. “That’s good. If that man is who I think he is, you might be the key to finally taking this MC club down. Or at least help us cut the head off the snake.”