An Embarrassment of Monsters: A Dark Romantic Suspense Novel (Alace Sweets Book 3)

by MariaLisa deMora

  “Define okay. Physically, she’s going to heal. I’d be surprised if he hadn’t been at her with something more than digital manipulation. The amount of swelling and abrasions simply doesn’t support the lack of implements of some kind. It’s likely she didn’t see what he used or didn’t recognize it. Without the language to describe the abuse, nuance is lost. I didn’t observe any fresh blood, and there was no odor that would indicate he’d perforated her vagina or colon. Without running the risk of traumatizing her further, I’ve conducted the examination my oaths will allow. We’ll know more when I get the swabs run, but I truly don’t see any major injuries to overcome.” Marchant twisted the lid off the bottle and lifted it, draining the water in a series of deep swallows. “Mentally, she’s regressed. No surprise there. Her language appears delayed by at least eighteen months, maybe two years. Once she feels safe, you’ll likely see that begin to reverse. Expect sleep disruptions, behavioral acting out, overt sexual expression, and depression. Her reactions will depend on not only what she experienced but how stable her future situation will be. Do you know how long he’d owned the kids?”

  “Only a few weeks. Before that, they’d been in a holding location, and prior to that had been in a typical foster care situation. Where I took her from—” Owen hesitated, unsure how much to share. “It was intense. Isolated from civilization, the whole scene was dehumanizing in the extreme. She’d lost her protector only a few days ago. Kelly, he’s the brother, had been dumped into the Pine Barrens, and I happened to be in the right place at the right time. So she’s been dealing with abandonment, too.”

  Marchant held the empty bottle in his hand, fingers closing around it slowly, the crinkling of the crushed plastic loud in the room. “For clarity’s sake, I should tell you that I received a call earlier tonight. Upstate New York has a situation of more than a dozen kidnapped and exploited children held in an isolated location, disciplined with shock collars, malnourished and abused. They were also all clad in brand-new clothing provided by a mysterious benefactor and savior. They want me to come up tomorrow and evaluate the kids.”

  Well, shit. So much for managing to keep his two kids separate from the rest of the rescued children. He angled his body against the cabinet, freeing the route of access to his holstered weapon. Years of honing his skills allowed him to keep his posture casual, never revealing to the doctor that these might be the last words he said. Masking the importance of the question, Owen asked, “That call you got, it say anything about kids escaping before the cops showed?” Marchant shook his head, the plastic bottle crinkling louder, the walls of the bottle collapsing inwards. “Think hard, man. Did it mention anything else about the guy who called it in?”

  “Apparently four different sets of authorities received simultaneous reports from a variety of citizens. So it wasn’t a single guy calling it in. I didn’t get all the details, but I don’t get the feeling the kids are saying anything bad about the guy. Just thought you might want to know.”

  When the bottle was a crushed ball of plastic, Marchant twirled the cap back into place, locking it into the deformed shape.

  Owen stared hard, thinking this could be a metaphor for his life. Damaged beyond recognition, less functional than before, and absolutely, totally stuck in place. Shaking off the unaccustomed melancholy, he gave a heartfelt, “Thanks.”

  “You don’t have anything to worry about from me, Marcus. Whatever you had to do to save that little girl, to save that boy—you’ve got my full support. Anything I can do, I will. Give me a minute to grab my bag. I dropped it near the door when I came in, thought it would be less frightening if I appeared to be merely a guy. I’ve got some medicine I want to leave for Shiloh and Kelly. From what I’ve heard so far about the living conditions for all the kids, I’d be surprised if they didn’t have some issues, so we’ll get ahead of all that and get them started back towards healthy lives.”

  Medications retrieved and explained, Marchant left the kids in Owen’s hands with a promise to be available for any follow-up questions. He’d been gone for only a few minutes when Owen heard the scuff of a bare foot against the kitchen tile. He glanced up at the screen where he’d been monitoring the kids to see Shiloh on her own, curled up in bed with her arms around the largest of the stuffed animals he’d bought for Kelly. Which meant the footfalls had to be Kelly. “Hey, kiddo. Supper’s about ten minutes from ready.”

  “Is that guy a doctor? For real?” Owen looked over his shoulder and nodded, unsure what to make of the expression on Kelly’s face. “And he won’t say anything about us being here?”

  “No, he won’t.” Turning to face the boy, Owen gave him the truth. “With him agreeing to treat you guys, we’re in a deadlock, but not a bad one. It’s more of a moral dilemma for him than anything. By treating you and Shiloh without taking you to a hospital, he’s made a stand that he thinks you’ll be better off here. But now I know something about him, and he knows something about me, and we’ll both keep our mouths shut because the end result is what we both know is right.” Owen leaned against the counter. “I’m not comfortable taking you back to foster care until I deal with the bad cop that got you into this mess to begin with.”

  Something undefinable passed across Kelly’s face. “Is that next then?” Owen nodded, noting how the skin of Kelly’s face grew taut, impacted by a tension Owen didn’t understand. “And afterwards we’ll be back with fosters?”

  Backs of his eyes stinging, Owen narrowed his lids, trying to maintain a stoic expression. The idea of leaving the kids wasn’t something he could contemplate yet, even the thought of the loss enough to knock him off balance. “It’s the best place for you, bud.” He made a split-second decision to expose his reasoning, so Kelly would understand. “See, I’m not set up for long-term anything. I’m in and out of this place, weeks at a time. Plus, I’ve been considering relocating out West, so I might not even be in this house long.”

  “To live near your friend.” Kelly took a step backwards. “Without any problems.”

  “Problems—what do you mean?” Owen cocked his head to the side, studying the boy’s face intently. Something was going on here, and he hadn’t caught on to what the subtext was.

  “Don’t matter. Shiloh’s safe for now. That’s all that matters to me.” Kelly shook his head, and that fall of hair slid over his eyes, blocking them from Owen’s view. “Can I help with food?”

  “No, bud.” Speaking slowly, Owen kept trying to read the boy. Something had happened, and he’d missed it. Some crucial clue had passed him by. “I’ve got it covered.”

  “Okay.” The boy turned on his heel and disappeared up the hallway.

  “What the hell?” Owen turned to the screen in time to see Kelly enter the bedroom. He slipped onto the bed next to Shiloh and curled around her protectively. His shoulders moved in a broken rhythm.

  Without turning up the sound, Owen couldn’t be certain, but it appeared the boy was crying.

  Torn whether to go investigate, he let the timer for their food decide, dinging an alert that the meal should be ready to eat. Owen turned his nervous energy to setting the table, waffling with a short-lived internal struggle about cutlery and drink glasses, realizing at the last minute that this dinner was the kind the kids couldn’t easily manage with their fingers. He hadn’t been thinking when he picked the food, and now cursed himself quietly. Chicken nuggets and fries would have been easier for them than a casserole.

  “Nothing for it now. If I can get a few bites into them, it’ll be enough.” I’ll do better. These kids had been through so much already; they deserved more responsible care than he could provide. If even simple decisions like appropriate meals were beyond him, the idea of trying to keep the kids on his own was laughable. “Fucking idiot.”

  He huffed out a sigh and turned to call for the kids to find them already standing in the doorway, Shiloh slightly behind Kelly, probably instinctively placed there by the boy so he could protect her. He’s such a good kid. Maybe Owen wo
uld have a chance to influence the foster care placement, ensuring they’d get a home dedicated to them instead of one with rooms of bunk beds and a rotating door. I’ll make sure they’re set before I do anything. “Food’s ready. Come sit, and let’s eat. It’s been a busy day, and I’m bushed. I bet you guys are, too.” He pulled out the two chairs side by side and stepped back to make room. “Sit here, and I’ll dish up the food.”

  Giving them space, he walked to the other side of the table to place hefty servings on their plates. Keeping track of the kids with his peripheral vision, he watched Kelly help Shiloh onto the chair, noting she had to sit on her knees to reach the table. Dammit, she needs a booster seat, just like the car. Another strike in the “Owen doesn’t know shit” column.

  Kelly climbed onto his own chair, perching on it as if it were the barstool, feet on the seat and knees drawn up underneath his shirt. It was startling to see that both kids had made themselves as small as possible. Less of a target. Owen dipped a serving of salad onto each plate, then held up the dressing he’d carried to the table earlier. Both kids nodded silently, and he drizzled it over the greens and tiny tomatoes. Standing upright, fists planted on each hip, he considered the table before snapping his fingers. “Drinks. I’ll get them. You can go ahead and start if you want.” He turned away and grabbed three glasses, filling them with ice and water from the dispenser on the front of the refrigerator. When he returned to the table, neither child had moved, and he frowned as he set the glasses next to the plates. Shiloh was poking at her fork with a finger, studying the implement intently.

  “Want me to cut up your lasagna?” She lifted her gaze to him and nodded slowly. “Okay, sweetie. I can do that.” Owen went to lean over her and grab his fork and knife, but the moment he did, she cringed away, a tiny sound of distress escaping. Crippling pain ripped through him at the idea of her being afraid of him. “Oh, honey. It’s okay. I can go over there and do it.” He stepped to the side, but she stayed crunched into a folded-over position, head resting on her knees. “Shiloh, it’s okay.” He turned to look at Kelly and found himself on the receiving end of a blistering glare. Can I fuck up more tonight? “I promise, I will never ever hurt you, sweetheart. Promise, you’re safe with me.”

  He made his way around the table and, from that distance, moved her plate towards him, cutting the food into bite-sized pieces. What had happened to the little girl who trusted him enough to sit in his lap, allowing him to dress her, to take care of her? She trusted me because Kelly did. Covertly, he studied the boy who was still glaring daggers at him. I told him I wouldn’t be his forever safe place. Clearly, that had been enough to shift the boy’s attitude, and Shiloh was sensitive enough to pick up on it. The little girl was paying the price of Owen’s fears. Shit. He knew of only one way he could fix this, but his lifestyle didn’t support having children, and he didn’t have a network in place to pick up any slack.

  Pushing Shiloh’s plate back in front of her, he retrieved Kelly’s next and began cutting up the boy’s food. He held Kelly’s gaze as long as he could, trying to read the boy. Angry and hurt. No, not angry, Kelly’s afraid. He’d basically told the boy that he’d be sending them back into the same system that had betrayed them before. Of course Kelly would be afraid. If it happened once, it could happen again, and Owen swallowed hard at the memory of Shiloh’s tiny face staring up at him over her roughly bound wrists.

  I don’t have anyone to call on here.

  Placing Kelly’s plate in front of him, Owen went to his chair and sat, then mechanically dished up lasagna for himself.

  I do, however, have Alace.

  Shiloh unfolded slowly and lifted her head, staring at Owen through tear-clumped lashes. Kelly nudged her with his elbow, and she picked up the fork, struggling to grip it in her hand. Owen watched as she managed to maneuver a bite onto the fork’s tines, making a tiny sound as it tipped off and tumbled back to the plate. Owen cleared his throat, ensuring he had both kids’ attention before he dropped his fork noisily to the table. The lasagna had held its form fairly well, cut into tidy cubes. It had also cooled sufficiently to be handled comfortably. Finger foods it is. He lifted one with his fingers and stuffed it into his mouth, sucking sauce from his thumb.

  Kelly dipped his head to hide his expression and nudged Shiloh with his elbow again. A moment later, all three forks were back on the table, and the kids wore matching grins, slight though they were, chewing through their first bite of lasagna.

  I can’t have any second thoughts. If I’m in this with them, then I’m in it. No takebacks with these two. He’d already seen the results any kind of boomerang could have.

  Kelly glanced up, and while he continued chewing, the grin slid from his face, leaving him looking bereft and sad.

  Nope, not on my boy’s face. That kid deserves only happy.

  Owen could put the hunt for the cop on the back burner. I can even job it out. The search for the others in the sibling pedophile ring could literally be done from anywhere. Honestly, Alace has better toys and resources. The lease on this house was month-to-month, and it would be the work of only a few moments to set about closing down his life here. His electronics and weaponry were the only items he wouldn’t want to leave behind. The kids were scarcely settled as it was. Shit, I could pack ’em up in only a couple of boxes at this point.

  Owen watched Shiloh for the space of a few moments. Marchant had been clear that she’d need assistance, probably long term, and had offered up as much of his time as would be required. Surely Alace has a doc in Colorado we can shift her care to. That sucked because Owen wouldn’t have minded working with Marchant more. The man was conscientious and didn’t appear to balk at the wrong side of legal when kids were the winners in the end.

  Am I gonna do this?

  He studied the faces of the two kids at his table, happily eating a crappy frozen dinner with a nod towards healthy by an added handful of lettuce. They deserved more. They deserved a family. I can’t give them that, but I can give them me.

  “What do you think about moving to Colorado with me?”

  Hope and excitement bloomed in slow motion across Kelly’s face, and Owen knew in that moment he’d turn himself inside out to ensure he got to see the expression again and again.

  ***

  Alace

  Lila’s cry pierced the air, and Alace lifted her head with a groan as she mentally gauged the distance to the bassinette. Moving slowly, she shifted her legs over the edge of the mattress and placed her feet well apart, ensuring she would be steady before she shoved off the bed and to an upright position. She sighed and cupped her belly with one hand, standing in place until the pain subsided.

  Two shuffling steps later, she bent over the baby, who was angrily waving her mittened fists in the air, having escaped her swaddling. Again. “Shhhh. I’m here. I’ve got you.” She lifted the infant as Eric rounded the door from the hallway, a panicked expression on his face. “I’ve got her. She wiggled out of the blanket again.” They’d found Lila wouldn’t sleep without being swaddled but also hated being swaddled when she woke. There was no win in this situation so far. “She should eat again.”

  Alace turned in place and backed up to the rocking chair positioned only a couple of feet away, groaning again as she descended faster than intended, her bottom impacting harder than was comfortable. My body’s a mess. The whole process of giving birth made more sense now, yet it felt like as big a mystery as ever before.

  “Every muscle in my body hurts. I moved my ears earlier and found out my scalp is sore.” Lila rested in the crook of one arm as Alace maneuvered clothing to expose a breast. “And I guess my milk is starting to come in, because these things are hard as rocks and hurt.”

  “Should I call Jessica?” Eric gently teased her, coming near enough to capture her lips in a light kiss. He turned and cleared her empty water bottle from the nightstand, plucking a tissue from the box to gather the rest of the trash. “I bet she’d have some advice.”

 
; “Oh, sweet holy—” Alace gritted her teeth, holding her breath as the baby latched onto her swollen nipple. “No.” The word was hissed more than spoken. “I don’t want you calling Grundella. I want you to teleport your mother here. Now.”

  Eric grinned at her, not steeping in the same irritating feelings towards Alace’s former nurse as she was. He was, however, clearly pleased she was looking forward to his mother’s visit. “Bebe’s flight is in the air as I speak. She’ll land in Denver within two hours, and I’ve got a driver on call to pick her up and bring her here.”

  Alace let him see her smile, then bent over Lila as he left the room. “Bebe. I think it’s freakin’ hilarious your grandmother named herself.” Now that the baby was nursing strongly, the pain in her breasts was subsiding slightly, changing to a heat and fullness that satisfied in a way she didn’t understand. Alace called out, “You didn’t want to go pick her up?”

  “And leave my babies?” Eric came back into the room with a fresh bottle of water in hand. “Not a chance, Momma.” He placed it on the coaster next to the lamp on her nightstand and then surveyed the setup. “You want the pillow thingie to rest her on while she nurses?”

  “No, I like holding her.” Alace let her head tip backwards against the rocker. “She’s so soft and warm.”

  Crouching at Alace’s feet, Eric leaned close and leaned his head against her arm opposite where Lila was, watching their daughter nurse. He stayed in the position until it was time to shift the infant to the other breast, taking the little girl in his arms as Alace adjusted her position and clothing. He placed Lila upright against his shoulder, gently rubbing and patting her back until she emitted the most unladylike burp. Alace stared at him in wonder, her smile matching his as he looked down into Lila’s face. “You ready for Momma, little one? I think she’s ready for you.”