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One

Page 25

by Mari Arden


  Pain.

  "Let's get out of here!"

  I'm falling.

  Falling.

  She won't catch me.

  I see it in her eyes. I feel pain everywhere.

  "Go back," she repeats.

  I'm stubborn. "No."

  Jules! His voice is thunder clapping in the sky. I feel it inside my bones.

  "Go back," her voice echoes around me; it swirls like a cloak, coming through my skin and into my head. I don't have a chance to refuse because suddenly she's gone.

  "Grandma?" I start to panic. "Grandma?"

  My feet are inches from the ground as I float above, desperately searching for her. I can't let myself feel the warm grass otherwise I'll be pulled in and unable to fly. I shout her name until my throat is hoarse.

  All the while I ignore his voice. I remember him kissing another woman. I won't give in.

  I move until I can't move anymore. Hours pass, days even. Finally, when I'm seconds from falling into the earth I hear her voice. It mixes with his voice. "Go back." Both their voices echo, wrapping me in warmth. There is nothing here for me. I need to return.

  I go.

  I am a survivor.

  I come back to life.

  CHAPTER 34

  Everything is a low hum at first. It's as if I've heard something deafening and only now are the sounds slowly returning, faint and dim. I register several things at once. I hear a beep, low and steady. The sound repeats every few seconds, slowly becoming louder with each passing moment. I hear the faint whisper of cloth rustling. If I strain my ears I can make out footsteps, hard and heavy. The more I focus, the more I can designate other sounds- low murmurs, someone weeping, sighs.

  My body feels heavy like my whole body has been transformed into a rock. I think if I push hard enough I might be able to get enough momentum to roll over. I decide to try it, focusing on my energy on moving my body. I will my body to cooperate, mentally pushing one side to lift up. Instantly, sharp pain stabs inside my head and I let out a breath of frustration.

  "Jules?" The voice is hoarse. I recognize it. Pax.

  The first emotion I feel is joy- pure, unadulterated joy. He's here. We're together again. The second emotion I feel is fear. Gonzales will find him; or worse, Pax has already been taken. Then I feel panic. Whimpers burst from my throat. Run, I want to shout. Get away!

  Something warm and heavy touches me. The touch is calming, but only for a second. The touch opens a floodgate of memories. I relive every moment from the Hearts of Love fundraiser until now. I remember Pax's betrayal. I remember how I refused to forgive him. I remember how Braidon took me. I recall the feel of his strong body overpowering mine. I remember Gonzales's words.

  Meat. You.

  I want to run. We need to run.

  "Pax," I croak out, barely a whisper. "Go… now."

  He palms my forehead. "Shh."

  I try to lift my hands. No. "Go," I struggle. "Leave."

  He kisses my mouth. His wet lips are a balm for my cracked lips. "You're safe, baby." He kisses my cheek. "You're safe."

  This is a dream. It must be. I need to wake up. I need to run. I make another effort to move. I grunt, finally able to shift my hands.

  "Go slow," Pax cautions me. "You're pretty banged up."

  "Where are we?" I whisper.

  "At the hospital."

  My eyes snap open. His face is above me, inches from my own. There are dark circles underneath his eyes and black stubbles covers his chin and the top of his mouth. One side of his hair stands up, messy as if he's just woken up. There's a cut across his cheek. I blink, abruptly realizing that the dark circles under his eyes are bruises and they're the size of half dollars.

  "Pax," I whisper in alarm. "What happened to you?"

  "A couple guys punched me in the eyes." His lips are set in a grim line. "But don't worry, I got them back good. Real good." He sounds dark and violent and I feel a fierce urge to take it away.

  "Are you okay?"

  He looks pained at my question. I raise trembling fingers to touch his face. He clutches my hand, keeping them on him. "Of course," he answers gruffly. "Don't worry about me. You-" he swallows hard, "you shouldn't worry about anyone but yourself right now."

  "Why? Do I look as bad as you?" I attempt to joke, concerned when he winces. Is Gonzales listening to this? Why is he letting us talk? I beckon Pax closer until his ear is right next to my mouth.

  "Where is Gonzales?" I whisper.

  Pax stiffens, and when he pulls back I see storms in his eyes- angry, violent storms. "Dead."

  I shake my head, unable to believe it. My heart starts to accelerate. I can't tell if it's from fear or from hope. "Are you sure?" I breathe. He nods. I shake my head in disbelief. Gonzales has been a figure on the edge of my subconscious for so many years that it's impossible he's gone. Heroes die. Monsters don't.

  "We need to go," my panic coming back in full. "He doesn't die. He'll get us. He'll-"

  Pax puts a finger to my lips. "He's human, Jules. He bleeds. He cries." His voice hardens. "He dies."

  "Ghosts don't die."

  "That particular ghost does." I feel him tremble with rage. "I made sure to watch him." Pax's gaze bores into mine. "I watched his skin melt like candy. I watched his blood burn. I watched his body turn into ash and settle deep into the earth. I pray it falls deeper. I pray he goes straight to Hell."

  My eyes travel down and I finally notice he isn't wearing a shirt. There are bandages covering parts of his chest, his arms. I start to cry. Pax gathers me in his arms, his fingers in my hair, his mouth on my face. My body shakes, and even though it hurts to cry so hard, I can't stop. I feel relieved, but mostly I feel anger- anger that I put him in danger, anger that I couldn't be the one to destroy this monster, anguish that revenge doesn't stop the burn- it only makes the blaze hotter.

  "It'll be okay," Pax says. He tells me he loves me. He whispers it into my hair, on my face, beside my ears, and on my neck. He clutches me tightly as if he'll never let me go. I hug him just as hard back.

  We're not two people anymore.

  We're one.

  CHAPTER 35

  "The agents are ready for you now, Ms. Hendricks."

  I nod, brushing my hair back. Pax squeezes my hand gently, giving me a small smile of encouragement. We're at the police station in Minnesota. I want to leave this state and never return, but I want to resolve my past. I won't let it haunt me anymore.

  I walk into a small room. There are mirrors surrounding us, and I wonder if it's glass so other people can watch us. Two females in business suits sit at a small table, smiling at me when I enter. They try to look friendly and approachable, but their eyes are hard and give them away. I nod at them, sliding into the chair they offer me.

  "Good morning, Ms. Hendricks," the taller one with brown hair greets. "I'm Agent Caldwell. I understand you've just been released from the hospital yesterday, and I know you must be very tired. We appreciate you meeting us this morning."

  "It's no problem."

  "This is Agent Ames," she gestures to a blonde woman with small brown eyes. "She and I will be conducting your interview today." You interview for a job. You don't interview about a criminal dying. Even though Bill and Pax have assured me I won't be arrested for the choices I've made, I'm reluctant to trust the women in front of me.

  "You look better this morning," Agent Ames offers, trying to make me comfortable. It's like a lion trying to comfort a baby deer.

  "They pumped some blood into me yesterday," I inform them.

  "Yes, you were hurt."

  "Tortured is probably the better word." Both seem a little taken back by my candidness. Their sharp eyes are a reflection of my own.

  "We're sorry to hear that we didn't get to you in time," Agent Caldwell says with compassion in her voice.

  I shrug. "It happens." Pause. "I only lost one kidney. It could've been worse." I could have ended up some sick bastard's dinner.

  "I understand you spoke
with Mr. Gonzales for a time," Agent Caldwell continues, her fingers clasped in front of her. "Can you tell us how you got to him?"

  I nod. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes. I begin with the night Braidon attempted to run us off the road. They nod when I say his name. It's obvious they know who he is. They've already talked to Pax. "I'm not sure how he did it, but he found me."

  "That family has many criminal connections."

  I don't doubt it. "Where is he?"

  "Arrested, along with his uncle."

  "Good." My eyes blaze. They belong in jail.

  "How did Braidon get you?"

  "He easily overpowered me," I answer with ice in my eyes. "He drugged me with a cloth. It had something on it. I blacked out and woke up tied to something in a house." I described my feeble attempts to escape, and finally how I became desperate enough to convince Jose to take me to Gonzales.

  "Why would you want to go to him?" Agent Caldwell asks, genuine confusion in her eyes.

  "It's the only place that Pax and Bill know about," I answer. "I thought that if I didn't return, Alex and Nat would be suspicious. They'd alert Bill. He and Pax would find me. I just had to survive long enough for them to come to me." I close my eyes, stiffening, remembering how I was tortured.

  "Don't think about that," Agent Caldwell says gently. "Tell me what happened when you were with Braidon."

  I breathe deeply, pushing the memory away. "He wanted to take me to Mexico," I inform them. "I was desperate. Gonzales was a slim chance, but it was the only one I had." The hard chair underneath me hurts my body. I sit straighter. "Jose drugged Braidon because he knew Braidon wouldn't allow me to leave. Then he drugged me, and when I woke up, I was chained to a metal bed with Gonzlaes in front of me." The venom is thick in my words. He's dead, but the anger and hatred I feel toward him is raw and fresh. Maybe with time it will lessen.

  Maybe it won't.

  I describe what Gonzales told me, how he confessed to the drugs and to selling human body parts on the black market.

  "I was in a cold room. It's where they did the surgeries. They kept it cold for the organs," I say, shuddering despite my efforts not to.

  I see both agents eye my abdomen. "Gonzales had a surgeon come in after he talked with me. He wanted the surgery done right away," I answer the unspoken question.

  "Do you remember any of it?"

  I nod. "Yes. Gonzales refused to put me under. He said he wanted the other people to hear my screams." Agent Ames flinches. I look directly at her. "How many victims did you find?" How many survived?

  "Many lost their lives in the explosion. We were only able to find two survivors."

  I feel tears prick my eyes. In the end, I was only able to help myself. Would it always be like this?

  "How did you survive?"

  "I don't know." My voice breaks a little, and I stop to take a few steadying breaths. "I remember voices. I think someone carried me out. Gonzales wanted to use me to barter with you all. The men carrying me didn't have faith that Gonzales would come out victorious. They left me somewhere."

  "Yes," Agent Caldwell nods. "According to the report, an agent found you half a mile away from the compound. You were bleeding profusely, but still alive."

  "Yes." I swallow. "I remember they said something about how I wasn't sewn tight enough."

  "No. Your medical record states that there was a recent surgery performed on you where one kidney was taken out. The man who performed it knew what he was doing. However, your wound was not closed properly and an infection occurred." I nod. I knew all that already. The pain in my midsection was proof of that.

  "Can you tell me how you found me?" I asked.

  Agent Caldwell frowns, glancing at the mirrored wall beside us. "I suppose you have a right to know."

  "I do."

  "You're correct in assuming that your friends would jump to the conclusion that foul play was involved. Your friends and Reid searched for you and waited approximately forty-six minutes before calling Captain Bill Paxton."

  "Using the map you created for Captain Paxton and based on what you've told Reid, both were able to estimate a general location for the compound. The detail that helped us the most was your description about a stream that broke through some rocks. One of our agents who'd surveyed that area before recalled seeing something like that. We immediately put out a call for officers and within three hours we were ready to move. We did an aerial scope, but of course, the compound was carefully hidden. We had to go in by foot. Reid was quite…forceful that we enter the building immediately, fearing that your life was in danger. He somehow snuck in with the officers and stormed into the compound." She pauses, something sparkling in her eyes. "It was quite foolish, and I've had a few words with the officers who allowed that to happen, but without his help, we would not have reached to you in time. He moves like something unreal. I hear he is an athlete?"

  I nod. "There's nothing he can't do with his body." I flush when I realize how that sounds.

  "He was the one who cornered Gonzales, did you know that? The agents were right behind him, of course, but Reid tackled him down as if he was a child. That's what they told me anyway," she adds. "A fight ensued and agents were forced to launch a small grenade through several hallways to block exits. We believe Gonzales was burned to death. A few officers as well as Reid corroborate that story. He personally put in a statement of Gonzales's death."

  I'm silent for a long time after she is done. It's still surreal that he's gone. "What about the drugs? The organs?" I ask.

  "Everything has been burned. We have arrested several men, and many are willing to cooperate and provide names in exchange for a plea deal."

  Agent Ames moves her hand closer to mine. "We have destroyed the head of the snake, Ms. Hendricks. Now, we are merely finding the rest of his body parts."

  "We are sorry you did not trust law enforcement enough to come to us right away," Agent Caldwell continues. "We hope what we've done has shown you that there are officers that follow the law, and are here to protect the community. Those that have not," her voice turns cold, "have been accounted for and they will be punished in accordance with the law."

  Good. Nothing is perfect and the cops won't get everyone, but news of this will travel. Maybe some will be afraid enough to stop their illegal lifestyle.

  I hear chairs move. "Thank you for taking the time to talk to us, Ms. Hendricks. We hope you have a speedy and safe recovery. If there is anything you should need, please don't hesitate to contact us." She hands me her card. I take it, and put it in my pants pocket. We shake hands. "You are a strong woman." She tells me.

  I shake my head. "I am a survivor."

  "A hero."

  I'm rooted to the floor. Hero. It sounds foreign and heavy like it carries too much goodness that I don't have.

  "There are many types of heroes. Many heroes are dark and flawed- they're survivors. They don’t fall even when they're expected to." Agent Ames smiles at me. "Goodbye, Ms. Hendricks." She follows her partner out. I watch them, dazed.

  Sometimes life is a wasteland. Sometimes secrets can't stay buried. Sometimes your past will find a way to hunt you down.

  When that happens, you let it come.

  You fight back.

  CHAPTER 36

  I tug at my shirt nervously, wondering for the hundredth time why I should even feel nervous. I've ridden this man bareback. I've kissed his lips, and felt his muscles clench over my body. I've felt him inside me. I've faced death with him.

  Today, I face life.

  "Hey." I jump, startled. "I'm sorry," Pax's voice is immediately apologetic. "I shouldn't have walked over so quietly." He's thinking about everything that's happened, about Braidon watching me, and taking me when I least suspected it.

  "No," I shake my head, thinking about my words before I say them. "I'm not going to let Braidon and Gonzales overshadow my life- not anymore."

  He doesn't say anything. His long legs climb two stair steps to get to me. He plops dow
n beside my body. "I could've come and got you from your room."

  "I like the breeze."

  We sit on the steps leading to my dorm for a while longer, watching students walk back and forth. Spring semester is in full swing, and the snow has become nothing more than white slush beneath our feet. Somewhere in my mind I register that this is the first time in a while that the silence between is not wrought with emotion. The quiet is calm, serene even. It feels like how it used to feel.

  "Hey," he says casually, "would you like to go somewhere with me?"

  "I thought that was the plan."

  "I just wanted to make sure you didn't change your mind." He flashes me his dimpled grin and I can't help the flutter that passes through my chest.

  "No," I say softly, looking ahead. "I've made up my mind now."

  I feel him tense beside me. We haven't talked for weeks after leaving Minnesota. I needed space and time to readjust myself to society. I hate the memories. Sometimes I wake up at night, and I can feel the blade he used to cut me open. I can feel him pulling my insides out. The scar on my stomach from the torture is thinner than I expected, bumpy and dark against my peach colored skin.

  "I see," Pax replies softly, drawing my eyes to him. I see the familiar strong cheekbones, the fluid shape of his nose, the curve of his square chin, and the tight line of his lips. He looks a little angry, but mostly uncertain.

  "Should we go?" I ask.

  "Yes," his reply is stiff. His hand brushes against mine as we walk to his car. The breeze plays with my hair. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the blonde brown strands curl gently over his arms. He opens his car door for me, and I slip inside, securing the seat belt over me.

  "Where are we going?" I ask as he reverses out.

  "A place where we can talk."

  Yesterday I had called Pax, asking him to meet me somewhere to talk. He'd offered to come pick me up. The familiar campus buildings whiz by and soon we're cruising down the highway, heading deeper into the city. After a while I notice something brown looming ahead.

 

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