She’s on the bed, white as a ghost, but at least she’s no longer screaming. “Is he dead?” she asks shrilly.
“Yes,” I say hoarsely.
“Really? He’s really dead?” she repeats, desperate to believe me.
“He’s dead,” I assure.
“Oh God. I want to go home,” she says, choking on a sob.
Me too. The key. I need the key or Jill won’t be going anywhere. The last thing I want to do is look at him again, but I need to search his pockets. Refusing to look at his face, I hover on my knees and dig through his pants pocket. I come across the single key ring with the attached key. My fist tightens around it, and then I stumble to my feet and weave. The pain radiating throughout my toes on my left foot is excruciating as I slowly limp towards her.
When I make it to the bed, I weakly sit down and reach for the shackle around her throat. It takes me three tries before the lock releases, and Jill yanks it off.
She sits upright and throws her arms around me, hugging me tightly as she sobs. My shoulder is on fire and everything hurts, but for the first time in days, I know there’ll be no more. I allow myself to lean into her hug as my own tears continue to leak from my eyes.
We did it.
We’re free.
“I want to go home,” Jill says again, this time with a sniffle.
I carefully ease back and look at her. “We need to find a phone.”
She shakes her head, her eyes full of concern. “Your shoulder is bleeding really bad. We need to stop it.”
I look down past my stringy, dirty hair to find that blood has bloomed across my shoulder and is threatening to turn the white shirt entirely red. She’s right. Yes, my shoulder hurts, but I think I’ve become numb to the worst of it due to all my injuries. I didn’t think it was a bad wound, but the blood seeping from it tells a different story.
“We need to go upstairs,” I agree, licking my cracked lips.
Jill scoots to the edge of the mattress. “I’ll help you.”
With great reluctance, I rise to my feet and cringe. Those stairs are going to be a challenge. Jill slips her arm around my waist, and she helps take some of my weight as we painstakingly make our way to the stairs. All I can do is hobble, and because I’m dehydrated and malnourished, the world is beginning to spin.
We’re halfway up the stairs when I stop to lean against the railing and close my eyes, drawing in deep breaths.
“Ren?” Jill asks with alarm.
“If I pass out, you need to find a phone,” I say in a thick voice.
“No! Don’t pass out, don’t leave me alone,” she says in a panicky voice.
I pry my eyelids apart and turn my head to look at her. “Jill, I’m doing the best I can,” I say hoarsely.
“I know, I know. I just…” She seems to shake off her uncertainty and straightens her shoulders. “Let’s keep going.”
I give her a nod, and she helps me make my way up the last of the stairs. The door is our last hurdle, but thankfully, it opens easily as Jill turns the knob.
We cross the threshold, and Jill firmly closes the basement door. While I lean against the wall, she turns and quickly slides the lock into place on the closed door. I don’t blame her. Even dead, my father will haunt us for a long time to come.
Through blurry eyes, I can make out the kitchen that we’ve entered. “Bathroom,” I mumble. “Towels.” I don’t want to die from blood loss after everything I’d done to survive.
Jill tucks her shoulder beneath my arm and helps me limp through the kitchen. “Oh my God, someone’s living in the seventies,” she mumbles under her breath.
I can’t help but give a rough chuckle. “That bad?”
“Can’t you see any of it?”
“No. Everything’s blurry, and I’m lightheaded.”
As we shuffle, she describes what she sees. “The flooring is like this orangish-brown linoleum with squares and some sort of cheesy design in the middle. And no shit, the refrigerator is that nasty yellowish-cream color that was so popular back in the seventies. Have I mentioned all the cat décor?” she asks as her body shudders beside me.
A wry smile tugs on my lips. Maybe Jill isn’t so bad after all. She’s doing a wonderful job of distracting me.
“Okay, we’re going down a hall. Oh, hell no, why would anyone install green carpet? Like seriously? Blech. Ren, the walls are yellow. I kid you not.” We shuffle along further. “Oh, eww. What’s that smell? I think this is the bathroom.”
We’ve paused near a door, and Jill uses her free hand to push it open. The scent that greets us nearly knocks us off our feet, and I actually begin to retch. I turn away and lean against the wall. “What is that?” I ask hoarsely.
“It’s coming from in here. Ugh, this is so nasty, but we need towels. Stay put.” I hear her shuffling into the bathroom. “Here’s a small closet.” A door squeaks open. “Bingo! I’ve got towels!” she announces triumphantly before I hear her beginning to dry heave. “The smell is worse over here. I think it’s coming from the shower.”
Suddenly, I realize what we’re smelling. My father hadn’t allowed any of his victims to decompose so the scent wasn’t recognizable. “Wait, Jill, don’t look in the shower—”
Jill’s scream nearly pops my eardrums.
“Walk away and come back to me!” I try to yell over her screaming.
I can hear her making an effort to muffle her horrified shrieks, and then she’s sobbing as she rushes out of the bathroom, nearly running me over. She quickly wraps herself around me, forgetting my injuries as her face buries into my neck. “There’s an old dead woman in the bathtub. She’s…she’s…”
“Shhhhh,” I murmur, trying to soothe her. “Put it out of your mind and find me a place to sit down while you search for a phone.”
Jill trembles against me as she pulls back. “I don’t want to find anymore dead bodies.”
“She’s likely the only one here, it’s probably why he chose this place in the first place,” I say calmly. I’m really close to wanting to slide down the wall and plant my butt on the floor. If I don’t sit soon, my body’s going to collapse.
“Ren…”
“Pull yourself together, Jill,” I say lightly as I pull at one of the towels she’s holding. She releases it and helps me press it against my wounded shoulder as I wince.
“I don’t want to explore anymore. Let’s go back to the kitchen, and I’ll search for phone in there.”
“That’s fine.”
Jill helps me back to the kitchen, and then she gasps loudly. “Ren, there’s a set of keys on the counter! I think they belong to a vehicle,” she says excitedly. “Here, sit,” she says, directing me to a chair.
I slowly sink down onto the chair and watch hazily as she grabs the keys off the counter and looks out a window. She shrieks. “A car!! Ren, we’re leaving. We’ll drive out of here and find help.”
“We should stay put,” I protest. It’d be best to call the authorities.
“We don’t even know the address,” she points out. “We’ll go find another house or something. All I see is trees everywhere, so I think we’re somewhere in the woods. Besides, it could take the authorities forever to find us.”
“Good point,” I mumble. “Okay, let’s go.”
Thirty-four
Holden
It’s been twenty-four hours since we’d received the call that Ren and Jill Danvers were safe and on their way to the nearest hospital in North Dakota.
We’d flown out immediately, and it had been a nerve-wracking flight not knowing exactly what kind of shape Ren was in. There hadn’t been much information given since the women were on their way to the hospital and had yet to be seen.
I rub a hand over my whiskered cheek and watch as Ren sleeps. We’re still in North Dakota, because she’d needed surgery to correct the damage to her toes on her left foot. She’ll be wearing a walking boot for the next four to six weeks. Thankfully, the knife wound to her shoulder will heal on its
own. As for the fingernails on her right hand, there’d been a lot of damage sustained to the tissue around what’s left of her nails. She’d had to have the ragged parts of the nails removed, and the parts still attached to skin had been left in hopes that they’ll grow and perhaps regain some normal shape to them.
The biggest concern is the possibility of infection.
I gaze at her, my chest tightening. She’s frighteningly pale and hooked up to an IV to treat for dehydration and malnutrition. She’s also on around-the-clock pain meds. We’ve barely spoken since my arrival, and when she has been aware of my presence, she’s been quite out of it.
My eyes linger on her bandaged fingers before sliding down to the outline beneath the blanket of the boot meant to immobilize her toes. I can’t imagine the pain she’d endured, and I know we’re going to have a long road ahead of us.
Once again, an invisible fist tightens around my heart as I think of everything I’d learned since we’d arrived in North Dakota. Jill Danvers is already on her way back to Little Rock with Detective Harris. She’d given her statement shortly after we’d arrived, and then she’d been officially released from the hospital and allowed to return to Arkansas.
I’ll never forget listening to her describe the ordeal she and Ren had endured. She’d had to give every detail, and as I’d listened to Jill confess that she’d always put her safety before Ren’s, I’d begun to dislike her with a passion. I’d kept telling myself that it’d been a difficult position for anyone to find themselves in, but it didn’t lessen my dislike for her.
Ren suffered for her, she even took a punishment that was meant for Jill. I’m so damned proud of Ren for being true to who she is regardless of the consequences. She’d made her decisions according to what she knew she could live with, and that makes me love her even more. God, the strength she has…
I also know that things won’t be the same as they’d been before her abduction. Ren’s world has been completely tipped off its axis, and I can only hope that she’ll allow me to be there for her when she needs someone to lean on.
A nurse bustles into the room, and she smiles kindly at me before checking Ren’s vitals. When she seems satisfied with her inspection, and they’ve been entered into the computer beside the medical equipment, she gives me another warm smile before silently leaving the room.
Sitting in the chair for the past few hours has caused my muscles to stiffen, so I rise to my feet and walk to the window. Darkness has fallen across the sky, and tonight will mark Ren’s second night in the hospital.
When I hear movement in the doorway, I turn and see Lieutenant Martinez. I quickly cross the room and step out into the hall with him. Martinez and the others had been spending most of their time at the old farmhouse where Donahue had held Ren and Jill captive. They’ve been working day and night to process the crime scene and to make certain they have everything logged and sent to the lab before going back to Arkansas.
“We’re finished and have released the house to Irene Dockerson’s granddaughter,” he informs me.
I nod. “Sounds like Ren will be released sometime tomorrow and have follow-up appointments back in Little Rock.”
“We still need to get Serenity’s statement—” He gives me a look when he sees I’m about to cut in. “But it can wait until she’s ready,” he pointedly finishes. “Jill Danver’s gave us everything we need, but Serenity will need to verify.”
I release a heavy sigh. “I’m not sure how much you’ll get out of her. She was traumatized the first time this happened; I don’t know how she’s going to come out of this the second time,” I say honestly.
He nods, and his eyes lose a bit of their hardness. “When she’s ready, we’d like her to stop in.”
“I’ll pass that along to her.”
“How’s she doing?” he asks, appearing to be genuinely concerned for her.
“She’s in and out of it. They say tomorrow she’ll be more alert.”
Martinez nods. “Bruggs and Cadara are headed back to Chicago. I thought I’d wait until tomorrow and fly out with you and Serenity.”
“No questions, please,” I add quietly, my eyes glinting with warning.
His brows furrow. “I’m aware that we got off on the wrong foot where Serenity is concerned, but now it’s over, Holden. I’m not going to push her into talking before she’s ready, and I have no say about how the two of you choose to proceed when we get back. Your personal life is just that, personal,” he says deliberately.
I hold out my hand, respectful of his honesty. We shake, and he gives me a nod.
“I’m going back to the hotel for the night. Once we know when Serenity will be discharged, I’ll take care of the airfare and get us booked,” he informs.
“Thanks, I’ll text you in the morning.”
Once Martinez leaves, I turn and re-enter the hospital room. Ren doesn’t look like she’d stirred while I was gone, and I settle back into the uncomfortable chair.
I should have helped work the scene at the farmhouse, but I hadn’t been able to force myself to leave Ren’s side. It’d helped that Martinez had suggested someone stay at the hospital. He’d wanted to make certain the press or nosy hospital workers didn’t bother Ren or Jill. Of course, I’d quickly volunteered for the job.
Truth is, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to stomach being in the same room where Ren was brutally tortured. It’ll be bad enough that she’ll relive it in her nightmares, I don’t need to see the scene and be able to clearly visualize how it all went down.
I can feel the hint of tears in my eyes, and it isn’t the first time I’ve had to push them back. Ren’s been through so much, and I wish there was a way to take away her pain so she doesn’t have to suffer through it. Not just the physical, but the emotional as well.
She’s a beautiful but scarred soul who needs to heal and experience the world as it should be instead of expecting everyone to turn on her. She deserves true happiness, and I’m going to make damned sure that she gets it.
Thirty-five
Ren
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I ask as I sit on the sofa, watching as Holden exits the hall. He has my suitcase in hand, and my bag slung over his broad shoulder.
We’ve been back in Little Rock for two days, and today, Holden is moving me into his apartment—his actual residence, the one across town with air conditioning that works.
He moves to the sofa and sets the bag and suitcase down, his gray eyes searching mine intently as he sits down beside me—careful of the walking boot on my left foot. “If this is too fast, we can slow way down,” he says lightly.
Holden has been absolutely wonderful since I’d awoken in the hospital and found he’d flown in from Little Rock. He hasn’t left my side but has also made certain that I don’t feel suffocated.
I’m finding that my recovery from the abduction is different than I was expecting. For one, I feel oddly numb and detached. I know, it sounds odd considering my body is struggling to heal. It hasn’t been easy when every time I move it brings pain. My right hand is my dominate hand, but my fingers are covered with gauze bandages to prevent infection so I need help with things that I wouldn’t normally have issues doing. Then, there’s my left foot. It’s in a boot until my toes heal. Every move I make causes some sort of pain, and it’s all because of my father. Yet, I’ve blocked what I’d done to him, and it’s as if my mind won’t let me open that memory.
I’ve decided not to let it worry me. Hey, who am I to complain? If I’m going to get a reprieve from the horror for a bit, then I’m going to take full advantage of it. Not to mention that until I can access that memory, I don’t have to give my statement until I can give its entirety. I guess that’s another perk to having someone else survive. Jill got all the questions while everyone else, including the lieutenant, tiptoes around me.
I think the detachment I’m experiencing scares Holden, and I’m not sure how to prove that I’m okay. My feelings for him haven’t changed, and
more than anything, I want the future we’d begun to plan. I know now that it’s okay to lean on someone, and I know he’s not going anywhere. I also know that all too soon the worst of the memories will come back, and then I’ll really begin to struggle. Maybe it’s the knowledge that I’m no longer alone that eases the trauma.
“Ren?” Holden asks softly.
I blink, coming back to the present and turn to him. I recall my question and reach out with my left hand, squeezing his. “I’m not having doubts. I just don’t want you to feel like a babysitter, you know?” That is a concern of mine. I don’t want Holden to feel that he needs to take care of me. Yes, I do need some help, but it’s important to begin this new journey as equals. I don’t want to be the weak one that needs looking after.
Holden’s expression slides into a frown. “I would never feel that way towards you.” He reaches up and tenderly brushes my cheek with his knuckles. “I just want to hold you in my arms at night and wake up with you. I want to be with you.”
“I want that, too. I’m done waiting to have a future, I want to live it.”
He leans in close and brushes his lips against mine in a soft, gentle kiss. His hand cups the back of my head as he nuzzles his cheek against mine. “I love you so damned much, Ren.”
“I love you too,” I whisper, and the words flow easily from me.
Holden stills, and then his head pulls back, and his eyes connect with mine. His eyes are always expressive with me, and I like how my words have caused an inner light to shine brighter within them.
I smile. “I can say it now.”
He grins and kisses me once more, but the kiss ends way too soon. While my body heals, we won’t be having sex. My shoulder is still quite sore, and every time my wounded fingertips encounter something, I wince with pain.
“Ready?” he asks expectantly.
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