Chapter 25
Adoor banged shut and Mickey flinched as the sound penetrated through the darkness of her mind and assaulted her pounding head.
A groan rumbled deep in her throat but stopped before she could let it escape her cracked lips.
Her tongue moved against the dryness of her mouth and nausea rolled around in her stomach.
Her eyelids fluttered and her stiff muscles ached for relief.
Shifting to the side, she rolled her shoulders and arched her back.
Joints cracked with the movement, and she stretched her arms high above her head.
Her shoulder screamed in protest and her wrists refused to come apart.
Reality crashed down on her and her eyes flew open.
Fear bit into her with the strength of a pit bull, quickly turning her nausea to bile.
Her head spun and dizziness blurred her vision.
She blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkened room, and her gaze fell on a woman curled into a ball in the corner.
Paula!
Pushing away the blinding pain piercing through her, she shifted her body weight from side to side and anchored her joined hands on the ground to push herself up on her knees.
She inched her way over, swaying as she tried to regain her equilibrium.
Was the room spinning, or was that her head?
Saliva pooled in her mouth and she pushed it back down her esophagus.
She couldn’t lose it, she had to push on and figure out where the hell she was.
The carpet rubbed against her bare knees as she made her way across the room to Paula.
Leaning down to whisper in her ear, Mickey said, “Paula, are you okay?”
No response.
She leaned closer and Paula’s breath caressed her cheek. Mickey sank down so her bottom rested on her heels. At least Paula was alive, but how could she get them both out of here?
“Don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine,” a hard voice said from behind her.
Mickey craned her neck around, taking in the bare room. Gauzy curtains on the lone window let the moonlight shine through its thin material. At the open doorway stood Connie. Her thin lips pressed into a tight line and a nasty purple bruise circled around her eye.
“What happened to you?” Mickey asked. Connie’s battered appearance made her less threatening somehow.
Connie snorted and cocked her head to the side. Her arms crossed tightly across her chest. “A little punishment for not killing you when I was supposed to.”
The coldness of her words caused a chill to settle over Mickey’s skin. “Who hit you? Pete?”
“Come on. I thought you were smarter than that.” A brittle laugh pushed past Connie’s lips and she stepped into the room. Mickey didn’t move a muscle. She refused to show her fear. “Pete was just another pawn who outlived his usefulness.”
“Then who?”
“Why do you think I’d tell you?”
Mickey shrugged and her shoulder screamed. “Why not? I’m going to be dead soon anyway.” Connie didn’t answer, just continued to stare at her through narrowed eyes. Mickey needed a different approach to get her to talk. “Where are we? Are the girls here?”
Amusement widened Connie’s eyes and her lips curved into a small smile. “You really are stupid. Do you think we’d take you to them? No, they’re tucked away safe and sound right where I left them.”
Mickey’s blood burned hot. “You’re a monster. How do you justify hurting innocent little girls?” Her voice shook as she spoke.
“You don’t know me and what I’ve been through.”
“Then tell me. Help me understand why you’d do this.” Mickey softened her voice and rested her hands on her knees. The zip tie cut into her tender flesh, but she slowly twisted her wrists to try to loosen the restraint. It didn’t budge.
“I don’t need your understanding.” Connie’s words held less fire than before, and Mickey pressed on.
“You’re right. You don’t. But I’m going to die no matter what you tell me. It’d be nice if I had just a shred of clarity before that happens.”
Connie sighed, walked to the windowsill, and leaned the small of her back against the wooden ledge.
“I’m a survivor. I do what I have to do to keep living.
Plain and simple. I had to learn that lesson at a young age, figure out how to give myself at least a small choice of what to do with my life.
I could either let men touch me, hurt me for their sick pleasure…
or I could use what I had to get what I want.
I could choose who touched me. I didn’t have to be a victim stuck in some god-awful trailer with my mother and her bastard of a boyfriend.
I could just walk away. Live my life the way I wanted to. ”
The ice around Mickey’s heart melted just a fraction for the broken woman in front of her.
Connie was wrong. She was a victim. A victim who was so heartless and so damn brainwashed she chose to inflict pain on others in order to lessen the pain inflicted on herself.
Connie was right, Mickey had no idea what her life had been like, but she wasn’t a survivor. She was another lost soul.
“Can’t you see how you’ve used the horrible things that happened to you as an excuse to do horrible things to others? Let me help you. Let me get you out of this life and into a better place.”
“I don’t need help, especially yours,” Connie said.
“So this is your big choice, the life you’re so happy to live?
You help kidnap little girls and just stand back while they’re abused?
That’s not a life, it’s a nightmare.” Mickey’s heart raced and her skin burned as she continued working at the ties on her wrists.
They weren’t loosening at all, just digging deeper and deeper into her flesh.
“What the hell’s going on in here?” A dark shadow loomed in the doorway, his deep voice booming with disapproval. Mickey stopped moving.
Connie straightened and turned toward the door. “Nothing. I just came in to see if either of them had woken up.”
“Is that why I heard you bitching about your sad little life? Don’t talk to them, Connie. No one wants to hear your shit.”
“I…I’m sorry.” Connie dropped her chin to her chest. “I wanted to explain to her.”
“Explain what? That you’ve always been a whore and you like getting roughed up?” The man strode toward Connie, and Mickey recoiled at his words.
“No. She wanted to help me, but I don’t need help. I’ve got you.” A wide smile splashed across her face.
The man’s long legs closed the distance between them and he pressed his face into Connie’s, his silhouette blocking the light from the window.
“You have me?” he growled. “That’s what you think this is?
Some fucked up little fairytale where you get your man?
You’re just a dumb bitch who I have to keep putting in her place. ”
His hand reared back and slammed against Connie’s face.
Her head whipped around and she fell to the floor.
Mickey’s breath caught in her throat and she fixed her gaze on Connie’s unmoving form, willing her to get up.
But nothing happened. Horror grabbed her by the throat when the man turned to face her, his lip hitched up in a sneer.
“Hello, Mickey. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
He walked toward her and she fell to her butt, her legs stretched in front of her. She tried to use her heels to push herself backward, but the awkward movement caused her to tip to the side. The man chuckled and crouched down in front of her.
“I’ve heard an awful lot about you. First from Pete, and then from Graham. Stupid Graham, running around trying to catch the bad guy. Not knowing I’ve been under his nose this whole time.”
Terror rippled over her, but she refused to let it take hold of her. “He’ll figure it out. He’s already putting pieces together. He won’t stop until he finds me.”
The man tilted his head to the side, an amused smirk played on his face. “Do you know who I am? I don’t think you do, or you’d know I’ve already gotten away with everything. It wasn’t until you showed up things started going wrong. But you’ll pay. I’ll make sure of it.”
Floorboards creaked from outside the room and the man stood straight, his ears tuned toward the door. The groans of the house grew louder, and her pulse quickened. Someone else was here.
As fast as lightning, the man dropped his hand to her head and grabbed a fistful of hair.
Her hands shot up to stop him, but she couldn’t fight him as he yanked her to her feet.
The roots of her hair all but pulled from her scalp and she bit back a shriek of pain.
Something hard pressed into her back and her stomach sank.
He had a gun. “You’re coming with me. Can’t be too careful now, can we? ”
Pushing her in front of him, his grip tightened on her hair as they walked out of the room and stepped into a dining room.
Wooden floors squeaked beneath her flip flops and a rectangular table dominated the room.
A crystal chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling and a man sat tied up at the head of the table.
She craned her neck forward and squinted into the darkness.
With no windows, it was hard for her eyes to adjust. She closed them for a few seconds, praying Graham wasn’t the man at the table, and opened them again.
Her vision sharpened, the picture in front of her becoming clearer.
The man at the table seemed older than Graham, his posture drooped and his hairline receding. “Who is that?”
Her captor turned them toward the table.
“A friend of mine. He’s going to play a key piece in my escape.
Because of you, things got a little messy this time around.
I won’t be able to pick up the pieces and move onto the next thing.
I need to make a big bust to clear any lingering suspicion of my department. ”
The truth of who held her life in his hands slammed into her like a punch to the gut. “You’re with the FBI?”