Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
CITI
Star climbs to the top of the slide and waves at me before she slides her way to the bottom.
I wave back and tug my shirt around my shoulders.
The wind has picked up, bringing with it a chill in the air.
Star won’t feel it, of course, running around on the playground like she is, burning off energy she didn’t get out at school.
Sitting still, I’m definitely feeling it.
It might be time to shop for more clothing.
As lovely as it is here most of the year, there will be plenty of cooler days in our future if we’re sticking around, and I, for one, hate the cold.
I think of the few hoodies I have, my brain landing on the one Ambros gave me, what feels like many moons ago. I wish I’d brought it with me.
As per usual, when I think of the man, I feel a pang of disappointment.
It’s been two weeks since I told him my awful truth, and I’ve hardly seen him.
He canceled our workouts twice and hasn’t been around for any of the school pickups—not that I expected him.
If I hadn’t spoken about being intimate with him, I might not be thinking his actions were strange.
After all, the man is busy. But given everything that was said, I can’t help but feel like he’s pulling away.
The obvious conclusion is to assume it’s because of what I said.
I can’t say I blame him. What kind of mother am I to even think those things, especially when my other children were murdered?
When did I become so desensitized to everything that killing my daughter seemed like the only option?
I shake my head, reminding myself that everyone else has the comfort of making decisions outside of a prison, while I had to make them shackled inside one.
Could I lie beside my baby girl while she was being raped and try to soothe her pain and fear?
Could I pretend that everything would be okay for her sake?
No. Hating myself for being weak, I’d be happy residing in hell if it meant sparing my daughter a second of that pain.
As far as I knew then, nobody was coming for us.
I had one option to set her free, and that was death.
I can beat myself up for that or learn to live with my near decision.
Maybe I am a monster, but I’ve only ever had Star’s best interests at heart.
I jump when someone sits down on the other end of the bench.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I look at the woman and only just stop myself from reaching for her. She looks so thin and worn out. I’m surprised she can hold herself upright.
“That’s okay. I was lost in my own thoughts, which isn’t a good place to be.”
She huffs out a laugh, but it’s a sad sound that hurts my ears. “Ain’t that the truth?”
We lapse into silence for a moment as my eyes move over to Star, who is now playing with another girl who looks to be a little older than her.
“Is that your daughter?” I ask, curious to see how the girl will interact with Star.
“My niece, Rebecca.”
I look between them covertly, and see the slight resemblance.
“What about you? Is that little girl your daughter?”
I nod. “That’s Star. She doesn’t talk, so I’m hoping Rebecca won’t take offense.”
“No, Becca’s friendly with everyone.”
“Okay, good.”
She looks at me, her hands twisting in her lap. “I’m guessing that’s not the case with most kids.”
“Let’s just say school has been a learning curve. Thankfully, she seems to be settling in better at her new one.”
“Oh, that’s good. Where is she going, if you don’t mind me asking? Becca has had an issue with bullying for the last few months—boys who are bigger than her—and she keeps getting brushed off with the whole boys-will-be-boys attitude.”
“Is that still a thing? It was crappy when I was at school, but I’d hoped things had changed while I’d been gone.”
“Oh, did you leave the country or something?”
“Something like that,” I deflect. “She’s going to Addison Prep now.”
“Is that the fancy private school?” She whistles.
I feel embarrassed. “My sister is paying for it, or it wouldn’t be an option.”
“Oh, hey, no shame from me. If I could afford to get Becca away and into a place like that, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
My shoulders relax a little at that.
“I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable. My therapist tells me to put myself out there a little more, but I’m not sure people actually like me being myself.”
She dips her head, and I find comfort in her being embarrassed, too. Not in a spiteful way, of course, it just makes her easier to relate to.
“You’re fine, I promise. I’m just a little skittish around strangers.”
“I know that feeling.”
“You come to this park a lot? Star and Rebecca seem to be getting along. It might be good for them both to have friends outside of school.”
“Becca usually has a nanny who picks her up from school and keeps hold of her until my brother finishes work. She was sick today, so I came instead.”
“Bummer.”
When we lapse into silence again, it’s more awkward, neither of us knowing what to say to the other.
“Well, I’d better get going. Michael is finishing early today so he can spend some time with Becca. It’s tricky working crazy hours and raising a kiddo alone. He always says there isn’t enough hours in the day.”
“I imagine most working parents feel that way.” Not wanting her to ask me about what I do for work, I slip into another topic before she can speak. “So what does your brother do?”
“He’s a therapist. Not mine, conflict of interest and all that, which I suppose is a blessing in disguise.
Who wants to spill all their dark thoughts and secrets to their older brother?
Still, he’s one of the best at what he does, so it makes me a little picky trying to find one that fits.
God, I’m waffling again, aren’t I? Here.
” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a business card.
“This is my brother. He just opened a temporary office in the next town over. He has a couple of openings, which is rare for him, but not all his existing clients wanted to travel. If you ever need someone to talk to, I recommend him. Totally unbiased, of course.” She winces, making me laugh.
“I don’t think I’ve met anyone as socially awkward as me. It’s refreshing.”
She blushes before looking back at her niece. “Hey Becca, it’s time to go,” she calls out before looking at me. Something moves over her face, but it’s there and gone so fast, I can’t get a read on it. “It was nice to meet you—Crap, I forgot even to ask you your name.”
I smile. “It’s Citi.”
“Pretty. I’m just boring Lauren.”
“I like the name Lauren. My mom’s best friend growing up was called Lauren. She was always sweet to me.”
Before she can respond, Rebecca runs into her legs. “Do we have to go? I made a new friend.”
“We do, I’m sorry. I think your dad wants to take you out for something to eat.”
“Pizza?”
Lauren laughs. “No idea, but I’d say the odds were in your favor.” She ruffles Becca’s hair before looking at me. “It was nice to meet you, Citi.” She hesitates as she looks from me to Star. “Stay safe.”
As she turns and walks away, her niece’s hand in hers, it dawns on me that she knows who I am.
Maybe not at first, but likely when I gave her my name.
I look down at the card in my hand. Or perhaps she just sensed how close to the end of my rope I am.
It doesn’t take much for one emotionally compromised woman to recognize the same shit in another.
I sigh and sit back down, adding the therapist’s name and number to my cell phone before tossing it in the bottom of my bag.
I lean back, cross my feet at the ankle, and watch Star.
She attempts to build sandcastles in the sandbox, but the sand is too dry for it to work.
I shake my head, waiting to see if she’ll get frustrated and maybe start throwing things, but she never does. Instead, she gets up and brushes the sand off her hands onto her jeans before heading over to me. She climbs into my lap without a word and rests her head on my shoulder.
“You getting tired?”
When we first got rescued—well, the first six months after that—Star tired particularly easily.
She wasn’t used to moving around much, even though I tried to keep her active.
There was only so much I could do when I was in shackles, so a run around a park was out of the question.
She improved a lot over the last eight weeks, though, right up until she started going to school full-time.
Now she’s back needing a nap again. I wonder if it’s now more mentally draining than physically demanding.
She shakes her head negatively, making me smile. “So you don’t need a piggyback then, right?”
She lifts her head, a smile in her eyes as she nods rapidly.
“Alright, alright, you’ve twisted my arm.”
I stand her on the bench as I crouch in front of her, my back to her front, and wait as she climbs on.
I make sure I have a good grip on her before I stand up, and when we’re good to go, I start the trek across the park to the road.
I spot the prospect, leaning against the truck.
I’m not familiar with all of them, but if I remember rightly, this one is called Pig.
I have no clue why. Something tells me I don’t want to know either.
Pig’s head is down as he reads something on his phone.
Just because I can, I walk right past him, and he’s utterly oblivious to me.
I huff out a laugh, wondering if I should mention it to Havoc.
He’d be pissed for sure. Though I hate being a tattletale, it’s a waste of all our time if the guys aren’t doing their job.
I don’t really care about myself as much as I do my daughter.
I know how quick and easy it can be to snatch a kid in broad daylight, and that’s with people watching.
When someone is so engrossed in something else, like their phone, that’s when we just make a kidnapper’s life ten times easier.
A bus pulls up just as we cross to the opposite side of the road.
Even though I could probably make it back home with her on my back if she falls asleep, which is likely, she’ll become harder to keep hold of.
With that in mind, I board the bus, tapping my watch to the screen to pay before I head toward an empty seat.
It’s pretty quiet, so we don’t have any issues finding one.
I pick one in the middle and ease Star down onto it before taking the seat beside her.
As the bus starts moving, I look out the window and shake my head, bemused as we pass Pig, who is still looking at something on his phone.
I remind myself to have a conversation with Havoc about him.
Given what I now know, I don’t want him on Star duty, not if he’s going solo, at any rate.
Star burrows into my side and starts playing with a strand of my hair.
The soothing motion of the bus has me feeling sleepy myself, but I fight against it.
Thankfully, it only takes fifteen minutes to make it back.
We hop off and walk the last little bit back to the house.
I slow when we get closer, spotting a bike out front.
I hesitate when I realize it isn’t one I recognize.
When I turn to look at the door, I find Capone sitting on the top step watching me.
“Um…hi?” I don’t know Capone all that well, though he’s always been polite to me.
“Hey. Is now a good time?”
“I don’t know. A good time for what?”
He frowns, getting to his feet. “Tink said you needed some tutoring. I’m pretty good with science, so I offered.”
“Oh. Okay. Um—”
“You had no idea I was coming, did you?”
I shake my head. “No. I wouldn’t have made you wait if I’d known.”
“Dammit, your sister was supposed to let you know. We can reschedule. It’s no problem.”
“No, it’s fine. I just need to get Star fed first before she falls asleep.”
He cocks his head, a dozen questions in his eyes. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“You comfortable with being alone with me right now?”
Instinctively, I take a step back.
“That’s what I thought. Give me a second, yeah? You go on in and do what you’ve gotta do, I’ll wait out here for now.”
I open my mouth to tell him it’s fine, but his expression leaves no room for arguing.
“Okay, thanks.” I skirt around him and wait for him to move away before letting myself in and closing the door behind us.
I put the chain on and pause. I feel like an asshole.
He’s never done anything to me, and yet, I can’t bring myself to take it back off again.
As I stare through the spy hole, I think about the number Lauren gave me, and pull out my cell phone. I can’t fix something without the right tools. Maybe it’s time to admit I need a little more help.
I dial the number before I can talk myself out of it. It rings a few times, just long enough for me to consider hanging up, when a man’s voice answers.
“Dr. Brown’s office, how can I help you?”
“Oh, um…I was given this number earlier. They recommended Dr. Brown to me.”
“Okay, do you wish to make an appointment? I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”
“Citlalli Dillion.”
There is a pause before he speaks. I can’t help but assume he recognizes my name. I don’t know if I’m being paranoid or stupid, but it’s hard not to look over my shoulder every two seconds.
“Okay, I can fit you in on Friday at 4 pm or Monday at 2:30.”
“Friday, please,” I answer without giving it much thought. Again, the less time I have to overthink things, the less likely I am to talk myself out of going.
“No problem, you’re all booked in. Would you like me to text this number with the address and directions?”
“That would be great, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. See you Friday.”
He hangs up, and I take a deep, steadying breath. Am I nervous? Absolutely. But I’m also proud of myself. Hopefully, this time, it will all work out.