by R. R. Banks
Maybe by opening up to him – if only a little – he can help me figure out my next steps. Because God knows, I have no clue what my next step is going to be. I have no idea what I'm going to do or where I'm going to go. I hadn't planned any of this out and everything happened so fast, I just started running and haven't stopped since.
But now, I need a plan. If I'm going to get away from Raymond once and for all, I need to figure out what I'm going to do. And maybe Eric can help me with that.
“Are you sure?” he asks me.
I nod. “I'm sure.”
“Okay then,” he says, sitting back on the sofa. “I'm all ears.”
I clear my throat and take a deep breath. And then I tell him everything. I start with my parents taking us to the Ark, to the horrors Raymond inflicted upon me, to Danny and his death – and I don't stop talking until I get to the point where I'm sitting in his hotel room. I don't leave anything out and give him all the gory details. I even share the things I never wanted to talk about again because once I started talking, I couldn't seem to stop.
Through it all, he listened attentively. He didn't interrupt, didn't try to interject his opinion – he just listened. And when I finished my story, I sat back in the seat and took a deep breath. I was wrung out but strangely, felt a lot lighter. I felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
I can't remember the last time I felt so – free. Free from the burden that living with Raymond and his cult had put on me. A burden that was oppressive. Had pressed down on me until I felt like I couldn't breathe.
It's hard to explain and my situation hasn't changed one bit, but just sharing my experience and my life, telling somebody else about all of the horrors I was forced to endure, it made me feel sort of – liberated. Free from those shackles. I shared things with him that I never even shared with Danny because for some reason, I felt like I could. Something about Eric helped me to open up in ways I never imagined I could. Or should. There's no reason for it that I can see, but it just felt – right.
“Wow,” he says. “That's – I'm so sorry, Calee. So sorry for everything you endured.”
“It's not your fault,” I say.
“No, but I can't imagine what you went through,” he replies. “And to come out of it – there is some incredible strength in you.”
I feel the heat rush to my cheeks and I look away. “I don't feel very strong.”
“But you are,” he says. “In that situation, most people would fall apart,” he says. “Or just keep living through Hell because they're scared. But you – breaking free the way you did – it took a hell of a lot of strength and courage. Don't sell yourself short.”
The heat in my cheeks intensifies and I know that my face is a bright shade of red. Like I said, I'm not somebody who's used to getting compliments and it never fails to make me feel awkward.
“What are you going to do about the baby?” he asks softly.
I shake my head. “I really don't know,” I say. “I don't even know what I'm going to do about myself right now.”
“Are you going to – keep it?”
I look up at him, my eyes widening. “Are you talking about – abortion?”
“Or putting it up for adoption.”
I shake my head. “I honestly hadn't thought that far ahead,” I say. “I'm just trying to make it to tomorrow right now. But the thought of not having this baby never entered my mind.”
He nods. “I'm not trying to talk you into anything one way or the other,” he says. “I'm just thinking a little bit down the road for you. Kids are expensive. And you don't even have an ID right now.”
“I know,” I say, the knots in my stomach tightening. “Guess I didn't plan my grand escape very well, did I?”
“Doesn't sound like you had much of a choice in the matter,” he replies.
I feel the tears welling in my eyes and I take a deep, stuttering breath. There's so much to think about. So much to consider. So much I haven't had time to think about or consider. How could I raise a child when I didn't have so much as a high school diploma? How could I get a job without an ID?
“Everything just happened so fast,” I say, shaking my head, the tears falling down my face. “I mean, I knew I was going to have to leave the Ark when I found out I was pregnant. But then, everything just –”
“Hey, it's okay,” Eric says.
“I don't know how it's going to be okay.”
“It will be.”
I look up at him and feel the despair washing over me. If I can survive this and escape from Raymond and his men forever, I don't know how it's going to be okay. I won't be able to care for myself, let alone a child. A yawning chasm opens in my chest and the darkness down deep inside of it is threatening to swallow me whole. But when I look up Eric again, there's a gentle smile on his face.
“We're going to figure this out, Calee,” he says. “Everything is going to be okay.”
“We?”
He nods. “You don't think that after hearing your story, after hearing everything you went through,” he says, “that I'm going to let you just walk away and take your chances out there, do you?”
The sentiment is sweet and I'm thankful for it, but I can't let him help me anymore than he has. I can't have him putting himself in danger because of me. One good man is already dead because of me. I can't have a second on my conscience.
“I appreciate everything you've done, but I can't ask you to help me, Eric,” I say. “I'm not going to let you put yourself in danger because of me.”
He slides down the couch, moving closer to me, and takes my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. When I look into his eyes, I see nothing but confidence and compassion.
“You're not asking me,” he says. “I'm telling you that I'm going to help you. I'm going to help get you clear of this. And I'm going to see to it that Raymond never bothers you again.”
Fresh tears sting my eyes and I give him a wavering smile. “I can't let them hurt you,” I say. “I can't let you put your life in danger for me.”
“You're not letting me do anything,” he says. “And whether or not I put myself in danger isn't up to you, Calee. That's my decision to make. Knowing what they did to you – what they're continuing to do to other girls out there – that needs to be stopped. Somebody needs to put an end to Raymond and his cult.”
Eric gets to his feet and pulls me to mine. It's a little stiff and awkward at first, but he pulls me into a warm embrace. He strokes my hair and tells me that everything is going to be okay, over and over again.
It's crazy given how little we actually know each other, but being around him makes me feel safe. Safer than I felt even when I was with Danny. I feel like as long as Eric is with me, Raymond won't be able to touch me.
“Can I sleep in here tonight?” I ask.
“Of course,” he says. “You take the bed and I'll take the couch.”
He guides me over to the bed and sits me down before moving back to the couch. I sit there looking at him for a long moment as he settles in. When he's finally stretched out, he looks over at me and gives me a small smile.
“Thank you,” I say. “For everything. You're a good man, Eric.”
He looks like he's starting to blush and his smile becomes a little awkward. “You should get some rest.”
I nod and slip under the covers, turning out the light. I thought I'd lay there tossing and turning all night, but it's not long before the dark, comforting pull of sleep draws me under.
Chapter Twenty
Eric
I check my watch and see that it's just after four in the morning. I look around, trying to figure out what woke me up and don't see anything out of the ordinary. Calee's breathing is soft and regular – she's in a deep sleep. And the rest of the room is silent. Still.
I sit up and check the door. Locked. It wasn't Calee and there isn't anybody else in the room – so what in the hell woke me up?
Standing in the room, I turn a slow circle, t
hinking that maybe it was a dream or maybe somebody walking by the window that had woken me up. I start to think that Calee's story about Raymond and the Shepherds got under my skin and is making me a little paranoid.
I think that until I hear a soft thump on the wall – on the wall in the room Calee would be sleeping in if she weren't crashed out on my bed. I move to the wall and press my ear to it. I hear muffled voices and the sound of people moving around in there. There is definitely somebody in the room I'd rented for her.
“What is it?”
I turn at the sound of her voice and find Calee sitting up, the sheet pulled up over her chest, the look of fear on her face visible even in the murky shadows of the room. I put my finger to my lips to quiet her and her eyes grow wider.
“I – is there somebody in my room?” she whispers.
I nod. “Sounds like it,” I reply in an equally hushed tone.
“How did they find us?”
I shake my head. “I don't know.”
It's a good question. How did they find her? More importantly, how did they know to look in that room specifically? There's nothing tying Calee to that room. There's a loud crash and a muffled voice cursing in frustration.
I feel the tension in me rising as I start to run through the scenarios in my head. The room is rented under my name – not hers. So, how could they have possibly known to look for her there? Was she followed? If she were followed though, they would have seen her come into this room. So, why wouldn't they be here beating down my door instead of hers?
None of it made sense to me and I ended up with a lot more questions than answers. The only thing I now know for certain is that Calee is right – Raymond isn't going to let her go. He's going to keep coming after her. Which is a problem for both of us.
The door to the room slams closed and I hear footsteps in the corridor outside my room. I look over at Calee.
“Go into the bathroom and lock the door,” I whisper.
She nods and climbs out of bed, disappearing into the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind her. A moment later, I hear the lock engage. It doesn't offer her much protection, but it's better than nothing. With her out of the way, I turn my attention to the door. I hear voices out in the corridor and then see a shadow in front of the window. They're standing just on the other side of the door to my room, but I can't tell if they're planning on coming in or not.
Creeping over to the couch, I kneel down on it and strain my ears to listen. It sounds like the muffled voice I'm hearing is one of the men on the phone.
She's not here, I hear him say.
There's a pause before he continues. I don't know where she is. Pause. No, her clothes and everything are still in the room. Her boots are still there too. Pause. Yeah, we'll keep looking. She can't be too far away.
Two men walk away from my room, heading down the corridor and in the direction of the office. Which means, they could very well figure out who I am and what room I'm staying in – which, of course, will lead them to Calee.
“Calee,” I call. “We need to go. Now.”
The door to the bathroom flies open and she rushes out, the light of panic in her eyes. I'm already getting dressed and gathering my things, stuffing them into my bag. It makes me glad that I never fully unpack in a hotel room. Not that I ever really imagined I'd need to make a fast getaway like this.
“Is it them?”
I nod. “We need to get your stuff and go,” I say. “It looks like they went down to the office, so it's probably not going to take them too long to figure out where you are.”
Finished packing, I grab the handle of the door and open it quietly. Sticking my head out, I look both ways and find the corridor clear.
“Okay, let's go,” I say.
She follows me out and I close the door as quietly as I can. We rush to the room next door and after dropping my bag, I take her key card from her. I open the room and step inside quickly, anticipating finding somebody there. The room is empty though.
“Get dressed and get your things,” I say. “We probably only have a few minutes.”
Desk clerks aren't supposed to give out names and room numbers for the safety of their guests. But I'm guessing that Calee's friends are persuasive. I have a feeling they're either offering money or threatening violence if they don't get the information they want. And given that people are usually either greedy or don't want to get themselves hurt, my name and room number will be in their possession pretty quickly.
“They took my money,” Calee says, her face stricken and her hand in her jacket pocket. “That's all the money I had in the world.”
“Don't worry about it,” I say. “I have plenty. Let's go.”
She rushes across the room and joins me in the hall. Down the corridor, we hear the rumbling of the elevator. It's coming up. And it's a pretty good bet it's carrying Raymond's men. I look around, feeling the tension in me rising. I see the sign for the staircase and grab Calee by the arm, ushering her toward it.
“We'll take the stairs,” I say.
I hear the chime of the elevator as I follow Calee through the door to the stairwell and can't help but take a peek back. I see two men in jeans, dark coats, and dark Stetson hats. They're big guys and look like they're straight out of central casting for cowboys – all they're missing is chaps and spurs. They have that hardened, farm-tough look about them. I like to think I'm plenty tough and decent in a scrap, but they're definitely not guys I'd be comfortable tangling with on my own.
One the guys happens to look over and I duck my head back into the stairwell, letting the door swing closed behind me. I don't know if he saw me or not, but I'm not going to take chances.
“Go,” I say. “Go, go, go.”
Calee is ahead of me, moving down the stairs quickly. It's only three flights to the bottom and we get there just as I hear one of the doors above us thrown open so hard it crashes into the wall, sending a clang echoing through the stairwell.
Throwing open the door, I lead Calee quickly through the parking lot to my rental car. I push the button on the remote that unlocks the doors and quickly open the passenger side door. I toss my bag in, grab her bag and toss that in as well. Calee jumps into the passenger seat, her eyes wide, her breathing ragged, her face a mask of fear.
“Hey, stop! Calee!”
I look up to see the two cowboys coming out of the stairwell and heading for us at a run. I run around the car and Calee had my door open for me. I jump behind the wheel, slam the key into the ignition and start the car. I look up and see the cowboys closing in on us. One of them is reaching under his jacket and in the bright lights of the parking lot, I see the shine of a weapon.
“Oh, God,” Calee cries out. “Oh, my God.”
She has her hands on the side of her head and her eyes are wide with terror. Just seeing that look of stark fear on her face does something to me. It puts a lump in my throat and a knot in my gut. And in that moment, I realize that I don't ever want to see that look on her face again.
Throwing the car in reverse, I stomp on the pedal and we shoot backward. Slamming the gear shift into drive, I hit the accelerator and the car squeals and rockets forward, leaving a trail of smoke and rubber in our wake. I take a quick look in the rear-view mirror and see the two cowboys standing there looking after us as we go.
I let out a peal of nervous laughter and Calee looks at me like I've lost my mind. I give her a smile and a shrug. She wouldn't understand it if I explained it to her. We'd escaped – just barely, but we'd escaped. The rush I feel is similar to the rushes I'd felt after a battle over in the Shit. After escaping with my life from some nasty firefight.
The rush of surviving a battle is something that's difficult to be replicated. But this came damn close. And I'm somewhat ashamed to admit that it's a rush I miss getting. While I'm not a hardcore adrenaline junkie, that kind of rush is something I enjoy. In a way, it's life-affirming.
“You okay?” I ask.
She looks over at me and
nods, her face blanched. “Yeah,” she says. “You?”
I give her a smile I hope is more reassuring and less maniacal. “Yeah. I'm good.”
We drive into the night and I have no idea where we're going. I know we need to get out of Fort Collins, but I can't leave until I say goodbye to Steve. Until I can see him though, we need to find somewhere to lay low.
Chapter Twenty-One
Calee
It takes a good, long while for my heart to stop pounding and for my breathing to get back to normal. Yeah, I'd been expecting them to find me, but having them actually show up at our door still rattled me to my very core. Seeing Harold and Ennis coming toward us in that parking lot was like watching a scene from a horror movie.
But Eric got us out of there. He saved me.
Except, now they know who he is. They know he's protecting me. Which means that he's in danger. Because of me. It's a bitter pill for me to swallow, given what happened to Danny, but there's nothing I can do about it anymore. As much as I wish I could, there's absolutely nothing I can do. He's involved.
“Hey,” he says. “Stop beating yourself up. This isn't your fault.”
My smile is wry. “How do you know that's what I'm doing?”
“I've done it enough to know what it looks like,” he says. “I think I've gotten to be something of an expert, actually.”
“Oh? How so?”
He shrugs. “Just life.”
Eric doesn't seem to want to talk about it, so I don't push. But I know so little about him and I find myself intensely curious about him. Other than the fact that he's a surgeon and an Army veteran, I don't know much of anything else. And I want to know.
“We should probably find someplace to hide out for the night,” he says. “Or, what's left of it.”
I look at him and feel a rush of emotion wash over me. It's powerful and leaves me a little lightheaded – and I don't understand what it is I'm feeling. I clear my throat and sit back in my seat, doing my best to push everything out of my mind. I'm exhausted, confused, and terrified – not exactly the best recipe for clear thinking.