Torched Page 2

  She nodded and jotted something down in her notepad. “And there wasn’t an opportunity to run when you were let out of the basement? I mean, you had to have had access to knives if you were cooking.”

  I scowled in response to this new angle she was taking. I didn’t like it. “Are you insinuating that I could’ve gotten away if I’d just tried a little harder?”

  “No… Chloe, no,” she stammered, “I was just trying to get an idea of the circumstances. Mitch killed his own brother, I can’t imagine what he would have done to you if you’d tried. Look, we’re still trying to untangle all the forensic evidence at the crime scene. It’s a bloody mess. But you do have some defensive wounds, so clearly you’re a fighter.”

  She was good at back-peddling, I’d give her that. I stared her down and bit my bottom lip in an effort to keep myself from expressing what I really thought of her questions. “You want to know if I fought? No, Agent Rhodes, I didn’t. I couldn’t. I outnumbered and kept in chains in that basement. And the few times they took me up to the kitchen, not only did they sit there and watch, but Mitch put a leash around my neck and kept the other end in his hand. Unless they had a death wish, I don’t think anyone would’ve risked trying to get away.”

  She nodded. “You’re right, Chloe. I’m sorry, I should have phrased that better.”

  I rested my head back on the pillow and closed my eyes. “Can you get somebody to give me more pain meds? I’m in a world of hurt here.”

  She nodded. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

  A few minutes later, she’d tracked down someone with the good stuff. I knew it was the good stuff because within seconds of a nurse injecting it into my IV, a pleasantly warm sensation washed over me as it infiltrated all the veins down to my toes. I wanted to kiss whatever chemist had concocted the recipe.

  Of course, Agent Buzzkill couldn’t let me enjoy my high for long. “I know you’re tired, but can we keep talking? We really need your help to put Mitch away for a long time. You want that, don’t you?” she asked.

  I looked down and sighed. She had me cornered. I had to appear cooperative and realized that my snarkiness hadn’t helped. Fuck it, the sooner I satisfied her, the sooner I could start working on a plan to get the hell out of here altogether. “Yeah,” I conceded, “ask away.”

  She gave me one of those irritatingly apologetic smiles. “I know this is difficult, but I need to ask about the sexual abuse in particular. Can you tell me more about that? What they did, how often, that kind of stuff.”

  I didn’t know what it was about her question that suddenly jarred me. I’d learned to block out any emotion when it came to that particular aspect of my life with the Henslow’s long ago. Maybe it was the drugs, but I found myself instantly retreating to a dark place deep within my psyche that I generally avoided. “I… How can that possibly help?”

  She reached out and stroked my arm. “You never know. Chloe, you can talk to me,” she coaxed. “You’re safe—”

  “No,” I croaked, “I’m not. He’ll kill me. He’ll get out and finish it. I don’t want to talk about it—”

  “I can have you in WitSec as soon as you’re released,” she countered. “We’ll protect you.”

  Instantly, the energy in the room seemed to change. At least to me. With that mention of witness protection, some defense mechanism in my brain clicked into action. Sadness turned into anger, but I kept my eyes closed so that they couldn’t betray the shift.

  Witness protection was a joke, everybody knew that. If Rhodes thought I’d fall for that crock of shit, she was sadly mistaken. I shook my head. “I don’t want to live on the run. Agent Rhodes, this is a lot to process with a head injury. They raped me. Repeatedly. The details don’t matter because I don’t want to press charges. I know how women who’ve gone through that get treated in court. There’s really nothing else I can offer you.”

  “Okay,” she sighed, standing up from the chair. “Keep thinking. Something might come later when you’re feeling better.”

  Not likely. As she walked to the door, I felt the need to hammer in the point that I wasn’t complicit in anything they could possibly try to pin on me.

  “Agent Rhodes?” I called out.

  She turned around.

  “Those girls you saw on the surveillance cameras… Did they look hurt?”

  She gave me another pitying smile. God, I hated being looked at with pity. “The video’s grainy,” she answered. “We’re trying to get it cleaned up to get a better look. They were running though, so it couldn’t be that bad.”

  “I hope you find them.”

  She gave me a nod and walked out. After exchanging brief words with the cop stationed outside my door, I could hear her heels clicking away down the hallway.

  It was another lie. I hoped those girls had followed my instructions to lay low and keep their fucking mouths shut. That was the only way they’d be safe when Mitch got out. And knowing how corrupt the law was in Philly, not to mention the kind of money Mitch had to pay for lawyers, he’d be out soon enough.

  Still, their chances of walking away unscathed were good. Because if Mitch would be coming after anyone first, it would be me.

  : : : :

  I woke up just before one in the morning, momentarily confused by my surroundings. It only took a single look around to remember where I was and that I had to get out as soon as humanly possible. Why the hell had I asked for that extra dose of meds after Rhodes left?

  Fuck.

  Oh well, too late now.

  First things first, I had to make sure I could actually walk out. I’d been on my back since everything went down. The worst part of broken ribs—and let me just say they hurt like a bitch in general—is that every move you make feels like an army of sword-wielding ninjas attacking your insides. Hell, the pain in my shoulder from being stabbed felt tolerable by comparison. But I breathed through it and slid off the bed.

  My legs were scraped up and bruised, but thankfully I could walk easily. The police must have grabbed my purse from the warehouse because it was in a bag labeled “Personal Belongings” on the window ledge.

  Unfortunately, the only things it contained were makeup and ibuprofen. It hit me then that I was a woman with no home, no identity, and no plan except to get the hell out of Philly. I’d just have to wing it after that.

  Fucking Mitch. Locked up and still making shit hard.

  I didn’t want to ask, but getting out of dodge would require some assistance, and the only person I could trust was my best—okay, only—friend, Lexi. I didn’t want the Feds all up her ass though, so making the call from my room was out of the question.

  Lexi was scheduled to work that night, but wouldn’t be done dancing for another hour. I’d have to wait until then, call her from another phone, and keep my fingers crossed that she could come to my rescue.

  : :

  Exactly an hour later, I’d made a plan and gathered myself. Escaping from the room unnoticed wasn’t doable, although I had run through at least a dozen possible ways of doing it in my head. But the room was bare, the drawers all locked, the windows stationary, and I was in no shape to attempt any ceiling gymnastics.

  Tired, sore, and low on any other ideas, I decided to simply try to talk my way out.

  I peeked out through the door window. Not seeing anyone, I thanked my lucky stars and wandered out, pulling my IV stand behind me.

  “Ma’am, is everything okay?” a man’s voice piped up behind me.

  I clenched my fingers around the small bottle of foundation I’d snagged from my purse, turned around and came face-to-face with Nanny Cop, who was stirring what looked like a fresh cup of coffee.

  Shit. Here went nothing.

  “Yes, officer,” I said in the softest and sweetest tone I could muster. “I just need to stretch my legs and clear my head a little. Thought I’d take a stroll around the floor.”

  He raised a brow and looked me up and down. “You’re in no shape to walk, Miss.”

>   I smiled through the pain. “Oh, I’m tougher than I look. I made it out of bed, right? And what better place to take a walk when you’re hurt than a hospital with doctors all over? I’ll be fine.”

  He didn’t look too convinced, but gave in. “Alright, let me just tell the nurse and I’ll come with you.”

  “No, that’s okay. Like I said, I need to clear my head. Can’t really do that with someone hovering, you know? I’ll be fine, my legs aren’t injured.” I gave him my best puppy eyes but the right one was swollen shut, so I probably just looked like a one-eyed idiot.

  “I insist, ma’am.”

  “Officer, am I under arrest?” I asked politely, my fuse about to blow.

  “Not at all, I’m just here to keep out uninvited guests,” he insisted.

  “Great, keep them out while I go take a walk. Alone.”

  “Ma’am—”

  No. I was all out of patience and fucks to give. “Sir, I’m trying really hard not to be a bitch here. I know you’re just doing your job, but unless you’re gonna arrest me, I’m pretty sure stalking me against my will constitutes harassment. I don’t know where you think I’ll run off to in nothing but a hospital gown, but all I want to do is take a walk. So get out of my fucking way.”

  For a brief moment, he stared me down and I worried that I’d made him suspicious. It really didn’t matter though, after surviving the Hounds of Hell, I wasn’t about to back down from this lazy-eyed moron.

  The cop finally took a step back and chuckled, like he didn’t believe I had it in me to do that. Oh, I did. I was well-read, but talking like a wasted sailor was just another byproduct of the world I’d been immersed in and the crude men in it.

  To my surprise, he nodded and sat down in the chair next to my door. “Doesn’t take a Special Agent to figure out your mouth got you in this mess,” he retorted.

  I held back the urge to tell him to shut the fuck up. “Thank you.”

  He motioned down the hallway. “Go on then. But only ten minutes or I’m coming to find you.”

  He didn’t have to tell me twice.

  “Fucking women,” he snickered behind me, just loud enough that I could hear.

  Fucking women? Fucking cops. Dick.

  At the end of the hall, I rounded a corner and discovered a stairwell just feet away. After making sure no one at the nearby nurse’s station was looking in my direction, I ducked in, pulled the IV out of my arm, and quickly hobbled down a flight. I listened at the door for a few seconds, making sure the coast was clear, before carefully opening it a crack to get a better look.

  A sign on the wall indicated that I’d wandered onto the Oncology wing. Not so great for its temporary residents, but fantastic news for me. Cancer patients tended to be in the hospital for extended stays. I was willing to bet I’d stumbled on the quietest and most desolate area of the building, one where there probably weren’t any overnight visitors and the closets were stocked with comforts from home.

  In no mood to tempt fate, I slipped into the first darkened room I saw. I slowly guided the door closed behind me. My eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness with the help of a full moon shining in. There was no one else in the room aside from whoever was snoring in bed.

  With no time to dawdle, I ignored my curiosity and sought out a closet, which happened to be right off the bathroom to my left. In it, I found small assortment of clothing—khakis, pajamas, a stack of cotton shirts, and a peacoat. A pair of slippers and two ugly pairs of old people shoes rounded out the ensemble choices.

  Thankfully, being fashionable was the least of my concerns at the moment. All I needed was an outfit that wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb when I walked out.

  Judging by the styles and sizes, the patient was a woman. Slightly shorter, but our waists seemed close enough. I pulled out a pair of khakis, a black long-sleeved shirt, peacoat, and shoes, and changed in the bathroom. The pants were a little saggy in the ass, but other than that, I didn’t think anyone would look twice. My face, on the other hand, was a disaster, which was exactly why I’d taken the makeup from my purse. I couldn’t see much in the mirror with the lights off, but it looked worse than just a few hours earlier, if that was even possible.

  No time. Hurry up.

  Shit, I was probably about halfway through my ten minute window before my babysitter started trolling around.

  I hurriedly slathered the foundation all over my face and neck. It probably looked streaky and ridiculous, but I didn’t exactly have time to contour and blend. I crumpled the gown and stuffed it in my pocket, before tip-toeing back into the room. While I’d been getting dressed, the old lady moved and was now laying on her side facing me. She had to be suffering to end up here, but in her sleep she looked as peaceful as one can. Honestly, I envied it a little.

  I walked closer. Eyeing a hospital phone on her nightstand, I noticed a cell phone right next to it. I picked it up and clicked down to the messaging menu, hoping there was something in there to indicate she had a texting plan. There was only one—an outgoing message—to someone named Sarah, that simply said, “I love you”. No reply.

  I tapped in Lexi’s number, and a message asking her to pick me up at a diner two blocks away, then deleted the text and put the phone back down. But as I turned to walk away, a frail and bony hand grabbed my wrist. Startled, I twisted back around, instantly regretting the swift move. Fire ripped through my chest and left me gasping in pain.

  “Sarah, sweetheart, you came,” she crowed, her voice strained.

  I stood still in one of those moments of panic where you don’t know which way to go or what you’re missing. Part of me was hoping she was just talking in her sleep and would turn back over. Her droopy lids made it appear that she was about there.

  She tugged at my hand. “Sit down, baby, let me look at you.”

  I had no idea whether she was hallucinating or if I actually bore some kind of resemblance to this Sarah chick, but there really wasn’t any other option but to play along. With one press of a call button, she could blow this whole thing for me. So I sat down next to her and squeezed her hand.

  She smiled up at me with crinkled—but beaming—blue eyes, a single tear rolling down her cheek. “My beautiful daughter…” she whimpered. Her pain completely ripped my heart in half.

  I’d definitely noticed an unusual lack of flowers in the room, but now the picture was becoming clearer. And sadder. She was a woman who was dying alone, wanting nothing more than to see her little girl. But, judging by fact that Sarah hadn’t responded to her mother’s text, I realized that she wouldn’t get her wish.

  I didn’t have much to offer anyone at the moment, but I could at least try to give her that. “Hi, mom,” I said, brushing a wisp of gray hair away from her forehead. “I’m here.”

  “Oh!” she squealed. “Honey, I’m so glad. Will you forgive me? I know I’ve been a terrible mother, but please… Forgive me.”

  Absolution, that was all the old woman wanted.

  Whatever she’d done had completely alienated her kid. Did she hit her? Run off? Who knew. It didn’t really matter, she obviously felt wretched about it. It wasn’t my place to judge or forgive, but I couldn’t find it in me to just leave her hanging. She was clearly on death’s door and already hurting enough.

  “I forgive you, mom,” I assured her with a smile and another squeeze of the hand. “Get some rest okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered, struggling to keep her eyes open. “I love you, Sarah.”

  I leaned over and kissed the side of her head. “I love you too.” With that, she closed her eyes. I looked at the clock—two minutes left—and hustled to my feet.

  As I opened the door, I heard the heart monitor flatlining.

  : 2 :

  I didn’t have any problems casually strolling out of the hospital. There were only two people and a security guard in the lobby, all of them too preoccupied to notice me.

  Lexi and Neil pulled up to the diner just as I was about to walk around to
the alley to hide. Neil—being smart enough to know that it had to be a serious situation for me to ask for their help—had taken the plates off his car in case anyone pulled surveillance video. At my request, we stopped at a drugstore and Lexi ran in to buy some hair dye.

  She held it together while I gave them a vague explanation about what happened on the ride, but as soon as we got to their house, Lexi started crying. She hugged me so tight, the beautiful bitch might’ve broken a couple more ribs.

  I didn’t want to force them into lying for me, so I explained that I was faking amnesia with the Feds, because WitSec wasn’t a viable option unless I stuck around to testify. Being involved in some shady shit himself, Neil didn’t need to hear more than that, he knew exactly where I was coming from and how useless the law would be in helping me.

  He owned the strip club that Lexi danced at, and was no stranger to Philly’s degenerate underworld. He had a particular disdain for the Henslow brothers, but business was business, and those two and their shithead friends had kept plenty of money rolling in over the years. I had a feeling that Mitch wouldn’t be welcome at Neil’s fine establishment once he got out though.

  “Fuck me,” Neil moaned. “We should have gotten you out years ago. I knew those fuckers were trouble, but this shit?”

  Lexi had a guilty look on her face too, but was lost in thought.

  “Neil, no. You couldn’t have done anything before,” I assured him truthfully. “It’s not like I told you what was going on.”

  “Bullshit,” he mumbled. “I should’ve done something. I’m so sorry, Chlo.”

  “There’s nothing to apologize for,” I assured him. “Seriously. Stop beating yourself up. It’s over, he’s stewing in jail.”

  “Until he makes bail,” Neil pointed out. “We need to get you out of town fast.”