34. Millie
The bed dipped beneath me as I hesitantly perched beside Karigan, who had returned to staring out the large, darkened window. My heart raced as I worked through what to say. This moment was the whole reason I fought to be here on this assignment. I had planned out what I would say, the best way to help her remember her past, and that there was a future away from this place, but under this kind of pressure, with Killian armed at our backs, ready for war, I couldn’t seem to remember any of my carefully planned words.
“Hey.” I cleared my throat, hoping that would stop the slight tremble. “Remember me from earlier today?” Instead of responding, she continued to stare out the darkened window. “Karigan, it’s me. Millie Anderson, the crazy person who stopped you outside of school last fall.” She blinked, head slowly turning my way. “Hi.”
Her gaze slid to Killian and down to the two men unconscious on the floor before looking at me.
“Ugh, yeah, they didn’t want us to come in. You’re locked in here every night, aren’t you?”
Karigan’s throat worked as she swallowed and gave a hesitant nod.
Careful to keep my movement slow, I reached between us and gently pressed two fingers to her upturned wrist. The slow and steady beat made my stomach turn. Fuck, what the hell were they giving this poor girl? Two people just broke into her room and her pulse wasn’t even raised.
“Karigan,” I whispered. “We work with the FBI.” I was more of a consultant, but we did not have time for those minuscule details. I studied her features, releasing a relieved sigh when her brows raised a fraction. Good, at least they hadn’t brainwashed her to be afraid of government agencies.
“FBI,” she whispered.
I nodded and slid my fingers to interlace with hers.
“You’re a prisoner here, Karigan.” I hoped that continuing to say her real name would help break through the drugs and whatever mind manipulation they’d achieved in the last few months. “You don’t belong here. It’s not what your parents wanted.”
Her head fell forward, long dark hair acting like a curtain, keeping me from seeing her face.
“I don’t belong anywhere.”
My fingers flexed around hers. “Yes, you do. You have an aunt, an aunt that demanded someone from the FBI come find and rescue you.” That got her attention. Slowly sitting up straight, Karigan’s full focus returned to me, eyes wide and searching. “You’re not alone, Karigan, and from what I’ve learned about these people and what they are capable of, I don’t think this is what your parents wanted.”
Her dark brows furrowed. “This is my home,” she whispered, tone unsure.
“Do you remember your parents?” I asked, instead of arguing with her.
“Millie,” Killian said, drawing my attention. “We don’t have much time.”
I nodded and repeated the question to Karigan, hoping triggering the good memories of her parents would help her see that this wasn’t where she was meant to be.
“Yes, I remember them.”
“They loved you, right?” She nodded. “Didn’t make you go to school here but wanted you to be in a public school away from this place.” If possible, those brows pulled in even tighter. Hope bloomed in my chest. “They didn’t want this for you. I don’t think so, and neither does your aunt, your mom’s sister.”
“Why?” A single tear trickled from the corner of her eye.
“Your mom called her sister before their murder?—”
“Murder?” she breathed.
I nodded. “Your mom was scared, Karigan, and I think it was for you.”
She licked her lips, eyes flicking back and forth as if searching her memories. “Why?”
I swallowed. “I think they knew Pastor Paul wanted you. Either he told them or they figured it out on their own—that, I’m not sure. I think… I think he had your parents killed so he could have you without a fight.”
Her gaze slid to the window. “He killed them. For me?”
“Yes. We need to get you out of here, Karigan. You’re not safe. This place, these people, it’s not right. None of what goes on here is the way the rest of the world works, and I think you know that. Remember what it was like, living with your parents, going to school with your friends, living outside of this place?”
Karigan slowly stood and walked to the window, fingertips pressing to the glass pane.
“He said my friends didn’t want me anymore, that they didn’t understand the light we had.” The words were mumbled, as if reciting lines she was told as she worked through her memories. “My parents abandoned me…. They….”
“Millie, we need to go. Now,” Killian barked. “They’ve called for these two twice with no response, since they’re… well.” He gestured to the two still-unconscious men with the end of a gun. “They’ll send backup. Soon.”
Popping off the bed, I stepped to Karigan and grabbed her hand.
“Please believe me,” I begged. “You’ve been manipulated, lied to, and so many, many other terrible things, I’m sure.”
She finally turned to face me, tears leaking down her sweet face.
“He comes to me at night,” she whispered. Her free hand rose and pointed to the chair in the corner. “Sits there and tells me all the things he can’t wait to do to me.” Her shoulders shook as a sob broke free. “I don’t want to marry him,” she begged. “I don’t want him touching me, doing… that.”
I squeezed her hand even harder. “That’s why we’re here, Karigan. We’re here for you. You don’t have to marry him or live here.” Stepping back, I tugged her toward Killian, whose aqua eyes flicked between us and the door in rapid succession. “Come with us now. We can help you?—”
The scream of an alarm cut off my words. The shrieking vibrated through my ears, jumbling my thoughts with the loud, penetrating sound. Killian’s lips moved, but his words were eaten up by the noise.
I pointed to the ceiling where the ear-piercing noise blared. “I can’t hear you.”
With a frustrated look, he slid one gun back into the holster and hurried to the window. Face plastered to the glass pane, his lips moved like he cursed and stepped back. Grabbing my hand, he led me and Karigan, since she had a death grip on my other hand, toward the door. I swallowed down the protest when his fingers slipped away from mine to wrap around the doorknob, the borrowed gun clutched tight in the opposite hand.
The screaming alarm continued to blast through the room, making it hard to think about anything other than the noise. I watched Killian like a hawk, and my stomach dropped when he eased the door open, only to slam it back shut.
The moment our eyes met, the fear and worry that blared from his gaze, I knew we were in trouble.
I watched his lips move, desperate to understand the words he attempted to convey.
My stomach revolted when understanding hit me like a sucker punch to the gut.
Trapped.
We were trapped.