CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE JESS
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
JESS
This was beyond a bad idea. The worst idea. Whatever was beyond worst.
I’d parked a block away, and I was maneuvering through the neighbors’ backyards to the house. Her safe was in the basement. She’d given me the layout of the house, said where the asshole would be sleeping, or where she assumed he’d be sleeping.
“You should be able to slip in through a side window that goes into the basement. The screen is loose, and when you climb in, there’s a footstool at the bottom for you.
The safe is in the next room, but he won’t be in the basement.
He doesn’t go down there unless ...” She looked away, and I got an up-close-and-personal view of a bruise on her cheek.
Abusers normally didn’t pick a specific room where they would only abuse, but going with what she wasn’t saying, I was guessing some really bad stuff happened down there.
I took the key she gave me. “He’ll be asleep?”
“He should be. I’m sure he was up all night driving around looking for us.” She indicated the key in my hand. “That’s for the safe. You won’t need a key for the house. The window is unlocked, and no one would ever break into that house. All our neighbors know, you know.” She looked down this time.
I knew. I was getting a real good view of the entire situation, and there was a special place in my belly that burned against assholes like her husband. Neighbors knew. The cops knew. I was now wondering what my mom knew as well.
When I turned to leave, she wouldn’t release my arm.
She said, “I’m not letting you go into that house alone.”
I frowned, holding up the key. “That’s why you gave me this.”
She was shaking her head. “I don’t know you, but you’re my niece. I’m coming with you.”
A whole argument ensued because no way was I bringing an abused woman back to her abuser.
“I have a gun. I can protect myself.”
Her head just kept shaking from side to side, going faster and faster.
“I know how cops work, and you guys don’t go in without backup, not if you can get help.
I’ll ...” She was looking around, her eyes wild, panicked.
“I’ll stay in the car. How about that? I won’t go in, but I would never forgive myself if something happened to you too. ”
So a compromise was made.
My aunt came, but she’d stay in the car. That’s why I’d parked so far away.
I was tearing down an alley when I looked back to make sure she was doing as I said. After that, I ran a little bit lighter, hurrying forward.
The garage and back door were on the opposite side of the house from where I crept up.
No lights were on.
I listened but didn’t hear anything, so at this point, I was hoping her information was correct.
I went to the window she identified, felt around, and found the screen was loose indeed.
I took it off, gently laying it on the snow beside me.
I pushed open the window how she told me.
When it was open, there was enough room for a medium-size person to crawl there.
I went in horizontally, holding on to the windowsill as my legs went down, feeling around for the footstool.
I found it, tested it out, but it was sturdy.
She was right, and also I didn’t want to know how many times she’d needed to leave her own house this way.
The room was dark. I pulled out my flashlight, shining it on the floor as I edged to the door.
I opened it. Still dark. No sound, so I crossed to the wall she’d indicated.
I felt around, finding a notch in a little crevice, and I pulled it back. It lifted easily, and voilà, it wasn’t a safe inside, but it was a box with the lid locked down. I fitted in the key, unlocked it, and aimed my flashlight inside the box.
I located their birth certificates and her ID, but there were some drawings the kids had done.
I grabbed those, then looked through the rest. Bank statements.
That was interesting ... I wasn’t sure what to make of that because they were addressed to him.
I still took them. Some other documents, a letter, a piece of paper with a number scribbled on it.
I took all of it, and the bottom was lined with cash.
I took that too.
I cleaned the box out, stuffing everything in my jacket. I locked it up, pocketed the key, and put it all away and moved the piece of wall back in place.
I was turning, planning on leaving, when a bloodcurdling scream ripped through the house.
I jumped and whipped around, drawing my gun.
A chill went down my spine. That wasn’t upstairs, like she’d told me. It was from down in the basement, and by my guess, a few rooms away.
A second scream was right on its heels.
A third.
I was moving before I was thinking, opening the door and seeing a bunch of rooms in front of me.
More screams.
I heard yelling now, and I didn’t pause because if that was him? If he found my aunt again? One of their kids? Or if he took someone else to torture in their place?
I wasn’t going to answer my own questions, not until I knew, and then I would deal with whatever I was going to do.
It was coming from a back room, on the other side of a seriously small door.
The screams started up, and that sound was no longer human.
I wanted to kick down that door, go in there and start showing my teeth, but I refrained. Every cell in my body was begging to fight, but I had to stop, I had to think. One second.
It started again, and I ceased thinking.
I reared back and kicked the door open, and then I froze in place because the animal screaming wasn’t an animal. I was taking an educated guess that that was my aunt’s abuser, but while he was tied to a post, with liquids seeping out of him, it was another person in the room who I recognized.
A large guy was standing over my aunt’s abuser, and there were two other people in the room.
I skipped over Ashton, my eyes finding and latching onto Tristian West, who was standing in the corner.
“What are you doing here?”
Tristian’s eyes flashed, hard, and he came at me.
I stepped back, jerking my arm up, my gun right at him.
He stopped but indicated behind me.
I didn’t move. Not at first.
God. What were they doing to him?
But then I lowered my gun, and Tristian reached over, touching my arm and guiding me back. I allowed it, or my body did because my body recognized his and it was having its own mind. I was seeing red; my body was heated.
He took me back to the room where the safe was.
He flipped on the lights.
He paid no attention to the room. His gaze was on me, pinning me down. “What are you doing here?”
My mouth fell down for a split second before I was pissed. “Are you kidding me?! That piece of shit in there is married to my aunt. What are you doing here? What are you doing to him?”
They were torturing that piece of shit. And I had walked in on it.
Now I was in this room, and I was putting my gun away? What the hell was I doing?
I started reaching for my phone.
I needed to call this in. It was out of my hands.
“No.” He plucked my phone away from me, pocketing it.
“Give it back.”
He glared. “No.”
I growled before pulling my gun right back out. “Give it back now.”
He eyed the gun, not fighting me, but he wasn’t doing what I ordered. His eyes narrowed, and he leaned close. “No.”
I growled again, this time more feral. “You are in so much shit that you won’t be able to comprehend it—now give me my phone back.”
He kept studying me, before a slow grin showed and a chuckle slid out.
He moved back a step. “I don’t think so.
” His eyebrows rose up, mocking me. “How are you going to explain yourself? You didn’t walk in through the back door or front door.
I’d know. I got a guy up there. You broke in.
Now I’m wondering why you’re here when my business with your uncle is none of your business. ”
“He’s not my uncle. He’s a piece of shit that abused my aunt.”
“Huh. You mean the aunt that’s not here?” His voice was grating on my nerves because he was fully taunting me, and I didn’t understand why.
“Give me my phone.” I moved closer, my gun now too close for both of our comforts, but he ignored it.
And right then, he dropped his act.
The amusement fled, and I got a glimpse at the very real and very blistering anger under the surface.
He lowered his head, his nostrils flaring. “This is why I didn’t want you around me. This is why I should’ve forgotten you the second I found out you’re a cop.”
He began to move toward me. His chest touched my gun’s muzzle, and I swallowed a curse before making a decision. I wasn’t going to shoot him. He knew it. I knew it.
I holstered my gun, and then he was in my space, moving me back against the wall.
He was breathing hard, staring down at me, and looking like he wanted to chew my head off, literally.
But his tone came out soft, and all the more dangerous because of it.
A whole new chill slithered down my spine.
“For three years your uncle has been a pain in my family’s ass, refusing to work with us. Did you know that?”
I didn’t respond, too caught up in what else he was going to tell me, because I knew more was coming. I felt it, and I didn’t know if I wanted to know or not. I did.
His hand slid up, touching my chest and slowly moving to my throat, then around to the back of my neck, cupping me there.
He held his own head back, watching me from his fullest height.
“Then I met you. I became fucking captivated by you, and somehow that shit got back to my uncle, and guess who my uncle thought I should move in on now ? Fuck him for seeing an opportunity to capitalize on, and fuck your uncle for being the abusive weasel shit that comes out of his own asshole. Goddamn fuck everyone because now we’re in a situation.
So when I ask why you’re here, you’re going to tell me because you are now in this too. ”
A low growl was building in my throat, and I brought up my hands to shove him away.