by Kira Graham
I tried calling out at first and banging on the door, because I’m an idiot who disregards all horror flick lessons, apparently. When no one came by, I gave up and started to look for a way out. There’s an air duct above me, but I nixed that for two very good reasons. One, I will never reach it, and two, there’s no way that I can cram my huge butt in there even if I could reach.
So, I’m stuck here, and at the mercy of whoever—
Stop being a dick, Tee. You know who is doing this, my mind roars, so loudly that I wince and rub at my aching temples.
Yeah, I know, I know. But damn, girl, that guy was not what I was expecting. Where the heck did he come from?
I don’t know, and thinking about it right now isn’t going to solve a thing. All I can do is sit here and hope that whoever is helping Mindy is so averse to hurting babies that they’ll have a crisis of conscience. For that matter, I don’t see Mindy hurting them, either. God, I hope not.
“You’re quiet.”
I whip around at that softly spoken drawl and almost lose it when I see Mindy standing across the room in the shadow of the door. Only, the door isn’t…wait, it is open, but there’s a plastic window or something in the way, like one of those roll-down doohickeys that I’ve seen at the bank.
My heart starts pounding almost immediately, and for some reason, I find myself studying her instead of yelling out insults the way my tongue is dying to do. She looks…wrung out, is my first thought. Her usually golden hair is dull and unkempt in a bun so messy that I have to blink and wonder if she’s looked at herself in the mirror lately. The Mindy I know would die before she’d be seen in public in any other form but immaculate. She’s also lost some weight, and not in the “Oh my God, I finally did it!” kind of way, but in a way that makes her look a lot older than she is.
“You won’t talk to me?” she asks, cocking her head while studying me.
I shrug, not sure what to say to that, because I sort of don’t want to talk to her. I want to grab her dull, funky hair, rip her head back, and punch her till I hear bone crunching. But the version of Tee that wants that isn’t so pregnant that it’d take everything I have to accomplish it.
“Why should I? You’ve succeeded,” I say, watching her eyes spark with some inner light that makes my stomach roil.
“I didn’t succeed at anything. I got the wrong person, but then again, that dog has her so protected that I had to take what I could get. Little Tee, always so brave and reckless,” she muses, her eyes glinting with smug satisfaction. “You made it way too easy.”
I didn’t, and we both know it. I’ve been a near hermit for months, and with the babies growing so big, and the guys riding shotgun on me all the time, a girl hasn’t even been able to masturbate lately without someone knowing.
“You’re lying. Tut tut, Minds. God says that lying is a sin,” I purr, holding back a laugh when her eyes go hard with rage. “Which commandment is that, I wonder? Oh, what does it matter? It’s in there with ‘Thou shalt not kill’ and ‘Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s possessions.’ Or something like that. Only, it’s not thy neighbor’s things you want, is it? You covet her,” I muse, watching Mindy’s eyes grow so manic that they remind me of Jack Nicholson’s in The Shining.
Not the most comforting image, but I can deal with it, because yeah, I am the ideal person for this situation, believe it or not. Ares may not think this, but I’m a kick-ass anger management therapist. I have personal, intimate knowledge of what anger can do to the mind, and I know just how to diffuse that bomb.
“You know nothing!”
“I know that you have a huge girl crush on Cleo, and that you’ve got a big wetty for a girl,” I taunt, my eyes taking in every reaction that flies across her face.
See, this is what I can’t really puzzle together about Mindy’s obsession with Cleo. I’ve heard enough smack talk from Christians and Catholics to know that some of these yahoos still have homophobe punched on their internal, mental barcodes. For Mindy, that must be maddening.
“Shut your foul mouth.”
“My foul mouth? What about your foul mouth? You’re the one who keeps using that thing to order people around and get them to break those commandments that you seem to value so much. You’re pretty hypocritical for a girl who won’t put out. Do you think that sex is a worse sin than murder?” I ask conversationally, my head tilting with curiosity.
“I think that you’re trying to anger me, Tee, and it won’t work,” she says suddenly, surprising me.
When I work a patient, sometimes I use their tempers against them before I get them to deflate. It’s a technique that’s all mine, but it seems to work for the particularly hard-core ones. They get so worked up that they feel like they’re going to implode, and then I point out that their behaviors are all their own. It’s shaming and hard to handle when they realize that what I’ve been saying is nothing but the truth as I highlight their own actions.
I should have realized that this woman isn’t normal, though, and that I can’t approach her like I would others.
“Why not? Because in your head, you’re not this person? I have a newsflash for you, Minds, it’s all you. You set up that first kidnapping. You framed Rosetta for murders she didn’t have a hand in. You gave some psyhco the green light to kill three innocent men.”
“Innocent?” she scoffs, her amused giggle almost crazed. “They weren’t innocent! Two of them were alcoholics and gamblers, and the other was an adulterer! They all got what they deserved.”
Huh.
“Really? Who told you that, Minds? God? Somehow, I doubt that God whispered in your ear to kill people. If he’d wanted them dead, he’d have made it so—isn’t that how it usually goes? God is all-knowing and all-seeing, and everything that happens is part of his greater plan. Only, this wasn’t about some greater plan, was it? You did it. You gave those orders. What about Alex, huh?”
“What about her? I didn’t hurt her at all.”
“No. Why not?” I ask curiously, really wanting to know.
That whole kidnap-and-release thing with Alex threw me when I thought about it again. It’s not even as if Alex and Mindy were tight. She was tighter with Sin, who, now that I think about it, looks the most like Cleo. Shit. Hindsight is a real bitch, I think, my mind going a mile a minute to keep a step ahead.
“Because she did the right thing, you idiot! She got married to Chilli, even after he left her at the altar. That takes great moral fiber.”
I want to laugh my ass off, because if this lunatic knew half the things that Alex said and did on the regular, she’d lose her last nut. Alex is cool, but she’s not all there, and she definitely isn’t the “fall to her knees and pray” kind of girl. None of us are. Especially not Cleo. As the thought settles, I feel a light bulb go off and just barely stop a smug smile from curling my lips. I think I understand…
“It takes love, Mindy. Love. You know, that word that Jesus used all the time. Love thy neighbor and treat him as you wish to be treated.”
She goes still, and I watch her temper peak a little. She has a few tells, something that I can use if I build on this conversation for a while. Her eyes, as loopy as they are, droop a little when she struggles with an answer, and her lip kicks up on the left.
“I tried that. You all just kept pushing me away.”
“Not true. We did try, but you were always spouting off about us, saying horrible things. You called me a whore more than once, but I’ll have you know that I never slept with anyone but Ares. That surprises you,” I say slowly, my smile genuine when she blinks and shakes her head as if clearing it.
“No. That isn’t true…”
“I assure you, it is. He popped my cherry but good, and then I kept myself all his. What? Just because I’ve had dates, you think that I had to put out? And what if I had? Does that make me some disgusting aberration? Not really. It’s the twenty-first century, Mindy, and we’re a more liberated people now. Men and women shouldn’t live by some archaic double
standard.”
That’s why I never once considered it a good thing that I’d kept my virginity. My lack of sex wasn’t about some stupid moral belief that sleeping with men would make me loose, but more about my wanting to find the right guy. He didn’t even have to be my forever guy, just one who respected me enough to make it a good first time. With Ares, I got that, even if the man is a monumental dick sometimes. He gets me, he respects me, and he values me as a woman.
“We should be better! Chastity is a sign of devotion,” she screams, her voice rising so high that I almost miss the mechanical tone in her voice.
Ah, so I was right. Now I just have to play this chord that I’ve struck and hope that it doesn’t lead to a bomb.
“Love is a sign of devotion. They’re synonymous, wouldn’t you say?”
“Devotion is the absence of want. It’s sacrifice.”
Again, she uses that same monotonous, mechanical tone, as if she’s reciting something that she’s learned over and over again, and now I let myself wonder who it was that screwed her up this badly. Someone brainwashed this girl until she was so topsy-turvy that everything scattered. Peter, too. I’d bet that her brother was just as hurt, and with I myself having been a child who was apparently abused before my family got to me, I feel a small kinship with her.
“We’ll agree to disagree on that one, I think. My Uncle Jack is devoted to our family because he loves us all. That’s the devotion that I learned about growing up.”
“Lucky you. It must be nice to be adored for no good reason,” she sneers, that same disgust that I’m so used to coloring her words and expressions.
“Yes and no. See, being loved makes you want to work harder for it, and being loved unconditionally only made me want to prove myself more. But that’s good, too, in a way, because love isn’t about just existing; it’s give and take.”
“So wise, little Tee,” Mindy mocks, her eyes clear and calm in the blink of an eye.
There’s something seriously wrong with this woman, and I understand that even more profoundly when she reaches back to grab a chair and slowly sits, crossing her legs primly and preening, as if she doesn’t look like she just crawled out of a cesspit.
“Mindy—”
“Mama and Daddy always say that being good is a choice, that a true sign of godliness is doing the right thing in the face of adversity. You have to be strong for your faith.”
“Honey—”
“I was strong for a long time. So strong. I didn’t cry out or fight when they put me in the dark. I was good. I prayed. And I got an answer,” she says softly, right before her eyes change again, and her lips curls.
“Mindy—”
“I got my answer. If I wanted to be free, then I needed to be her. Everyone loves her no matter what she does. She can do bad things, say bad things, and she doesn’t have to be punished.”
Oh, shit.
“Mindy. Cleo isn’t perfect. You need to listen to me—”
“Mama always praised her, too. She’s so smart. She’s so pretty,” She sing-songs in that otherworldly voice, the tone making the hair on my neck stand on end. “Even Peter loved her. He’d follow her around like a lost little dog, sniffing at her as if she were the bee’s knees.”
“Cleo hasn’t done anything on pur—”
“So then I thought that I should just be her friend. I tried and tried so hard, you know,” she whispers sweetly, her eyes going wet. “But she never paid any attention.”
“She did!” I yell, my breath coming out in pants as I struggle up off the couch and waddle closer to stand in front of the glass and look back at her. “Cleo liked you, Mindy. She really did. Until you spread those rumors that she was sleeping with Eddie Gibbs. Why would you do that to someone you claimed to love?” I ask, pressing a hand to my hip, where it’s burning now.
God, I need a long soak, albeit a lukewarm one, since Ares refuses to let me broil myself in the tub the way I like, and then I need a full rubdown and hours of sleep. God, my head hurts, and my back is killing me.
“She’s a whore! Looking at all those boys, showing her body to them all—”
“Mindy, Cleo was on the cheer squad!” I protest. “And not even for that long. She got kicked off for punching Maria Lorenz. She didn’t put out for any of the football guys because she thought they were gross.”
This has Mindy stilling, and I watch, literally watch, her eyes change, as if someone has just flipped the channel. That shit is creepy, let me tell ya, and I almost pee myself when she lets out a high-pitched laugh and cackles uncontrollably.
“I know! I made it all up. You should have seen Mama’s face when she heard the rumors. Then it was Mindy’s turn to be liked for a little while. Mama was so mad at Cleo and so happy with me that she took me shopping!”
Ooooh, snap. This, I didn’t expect. I mean, I’m a therapist, and I’m good at my job, but as I stare at…Mindy, I have another light bulb moment, and this time, I don’t feel smug or smile about what I see, because…this woman isn’t just nuts. She’s split in half and leaking brain cells.
“Mindy?”
“Yes?” she chirps sweetly, but with an undertone that isn’t as malicious as it is…scary.
“Who else are you?”
Chapter Eighteen
Brent
My head is killing me, but I ignore the hard throb behind my eyes and keep tapping at the keys, working my magic as I dig more deeply into places that I shouldn’t be looking at. If I get caught at this crap, I’m looking at jail time, and no amount of Jack Sweet’s money is going to be able to save me.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” I hear, my head whipping up at the sound of that sweet voice, just a moment before her scent fills my nose and restarts the wild beating of my heart.
Sophia.
It’s as embarrassing as hell, and I cringe when I hear the monitor beside my head go off like a siren as my heart rate speeds up. All I need to happen now is for my dick to get hard and tent the sheet, I think, my cheeks burning a dull red.
“I’m looking for something,” I tell her in a gruff tone that makes Sophia duck her head as she enters and stops at the bed to look over my chart.
She hasn’t been coming here as much as she did before, not since I went to physio that first time and took my first unaided step. The thought of it scares me to death, and I’ve found myself not wanting to heal too fast, just so I can stay here and have her closer.
“Whatcha looking for?” she asks, not looking up at me.
I feel a slow burn start at the base of my spine when she shyly peeks at me through her lashes and licks her lips, her own blushes doing enough to me that I rip the sticky pads off before the monitor can go crazier than it already is. Though God only knows how my heart has any blood left to pump, since it feels like it’s all in my cock.
“Someone kidnapped Tee,” I rasp, my throat going tight. “I need to find a clue, anything to help me find where she could be.”
Sophia gasps, her hand flying to her mouth, and I groan when her eyes get misty. That’s what I like about her most of all, besides her hot-as-fuck body and the no-nonsense barking she does when I’m being a pain in the ass. She’s soft and kind—the type of woman that you know will love your kids, create a good home, and always bring happiness to your days.
I want that so much that there are days when I vegetate in this bed, imagining her smiling down at me with a love I crave. But my ass is broke, in more ways than one, and though I want her so much I ache, I force myself to clear my throat and look back at the laptop.
“Don’t cry, Soph. We’re going to find her.”
“But she’s so far along! She could go into labor at any minute, and she needs to be close to the hospital. Oh, Brent! What if—what if she goes into labor?” she whispers, so tearfully that I gulp and curl my fingers and toes to keep from reaching for her.
“We won’t let that happen, Soph. That’s why I’m on this thing now. I need to find something that’ll help the gu
ys find her. I’m doing a deep search on the guys who snatched her. They were new to the security teams, so their histories were clean enough to pass the vetting process, but since this was obviously a setup, I’m digging into their financials and anything else I can find. I’m also trying to look into Mindy. I’m thinking that that woman must have more skeletons in her closet than a graveyard,” I sigh, my eyes flitting over the screen as the program runs, digging more deeply by the second.
So far, I’ve got nothing on Timmons. The guy is squeaky clean. He’s a retired jarhead, with no family to speak of—and, as far as I can tell, not a pot to piss in. His partner, a guy named Hector, is a little less squeaky than I think Heath or Grange knew. He’s got a few DUIs, a mortgage that is looking at foreclosure, and an ex-wife who makes mine look like a saint.
As for Mindy…
“Why don’t you search the sealed records for the hospital?” Sophia asks, cutting into my concentration when I look up to see her standing beside me now, her lip stuck between her teeth.
“What?”
“Well, I mean, if you’re trying to find out about Mindy…I could be wrong, but…well, if she’s had some trouble, then it’s likely that she’d have been here once or twice, right? What about psych? I heard your guy, that Heath person, saying that her brother was mentioning treatment? If she was treated at all, then it’s a good bet that she was here, at this very hospital. Our psych department isn’t all that big, but it’s worth a shot?” she says, every word coming out as more of a question because she seems a little unsure of herself.
But I grin because I think she’s onto something. There’s only one problem. I’d have to hack into the hospital’s records, and I don’t have time to do it from scratch.
“That’s a good idea, baby. I just don’t think that I have time—”
“Oh! Oh, but I mean, I could help you. I have passwords,” she says softly, her lips tilting into a hopeful smile. “I could help.”