Chapter 43
43
ALTA
M y fingers were gone.
Well, I assumed they were gone, since I couldn’t feel them. I only knew my toes were still attached from staring at them the last thirty minutes as we traipsed through the forest. I didn’t say a word, didn’t even try to escape. I was accepting my fate, owning it instead of being afraid. Fear would get me nowhere, but neither would this downward spiral of despair.
Cas hadn’t come, and now he’d be too late.
Even Sarah’s sick goodbye didn’t register any emotion.
“No words of goodbye?” she asked. In a cruel move, Sarah whipped the flashlight up, directing the powerful light into my eyes. With a hiss I turned my head and slammed eyelids closed. “Come on, just look at what Jerry dug for you. I told him to make it deeper than the others. We wouldn’t want any of those pesky animals of yours digging up your body months from now, now would we?”
“Wouldn’t that be terrible,” I deadpanned. “Just get it over with, would you? I’m cold.”
Her fake, over-the-top gasp grated on my nerves, sparking a flash of anger. “Well how rude of me. I should’ve packed you a jacket. One should be warm for their own funeral.”
“She can have mine.”
My lungs stopped working. It couldn’t be. I shook my head. No, it was in my head.
“He isn’t here,” I mumbled to myself. “He isn’t here.”
The light whipped over my shoulder, allowing a reprieve from its bright beam. Blinking past the bright bursts in my vision, I followed the beam of light to the other side of the freshly dug grave. My grave. There was no point trying to hold back the pitiful whimper. Happy, scared, angry, terrified—too many emotions swirled at the sight of Cas decked out in all black with guns strapped across every part of his body.
In my ear, the click of a hammer cocking froze every inch of my mind and body. The cold end of Sarah’s gun pressed to my temple.
“Don’t come any closer or your pretty little Lady gets her pretty little head blown off.”
Eyes wide, I watched Cas pause his advancing. His fierce gaze never faltering from mine, he raised both hands in the air.
“Rose, this is the end of the line. We know who you are, what you’ve done.”
I grimaced at Sarah’s scoff, the movement making the gun barrel dig deeper against my temple. One flick of her finger and all this would be over. The realization of how close I was to death made me want to live. Really live. To have a family, to raise kids, and be free from all the paranoia and fear. I wanted a life.
With him.
A snap of a twig in the dark shifted Sarah’s focus, making the gun slip a fraction. Without thinking twice, I tilted forward and leapt into the grave I was destined for. My hands yanked against the binds as I free-fell through the air, hoping for a chance to catch myself before I landed face first, but the wire held.
Gunfire boomed above me. Just as I smacked the ground, a sharp slice of pain ripped through my shoulder. My scream echoed around the deep dirt cavern as its dense walls muffled the commotion going on above.
Dirt floated into my nose and dry mouth with every short breath. Everything from the tips of my toes to the top of my head ached and groaned at the impact. A small bit of relief calmed my racing heart when both feet responded to the demand for them to move. If I survived this, at least I hadn’t broken my back in the fall, leaving me paralyzed.
The ground shuddered, dirt and bits of rock dusting my arms and back.
“Alta? Lady?” Cas called out with pure desperation in his tone. “Please be okay. Please. Oh God please.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out except a pained cry.
“I got you.” Tucking one arm beneath my shoulders, he carefully rolled me over, placing my back against the dirt. Even through my closed lids, a bright light shining above us singed my sensitive eyes. “Get a fucking ambulance. And we need a backboard.”
“Then don’t fucking move her, you damn moron.” Inside I smiled at the sound of Chandler’s voice.
Cas grumbled something under his breath that sounded like nothing but a string of creative curses.
Chandler came too. They both came like they said they would.
They saved me. In so many ways, Cas and Chandler rescued me.
Eyelids heavy, I strained to pull them open to find out where the stupid beeping was and why in the heck I was so dang hot. After several blinks to clear the haze clouding my vision, I quickly scanned the small hospital room, only for my gaze to stop on the man asleep in the chair beside my bed.
My muscles protested as I moved to run my fingers through his hair but stopped midair. My lips pressed into a thin line as I rotated both wrists in front of me, taking in the thick bandages encasing them. I didn’t want to know the damage beneath the bright white gauze, or think about the scars that would surely be left behind.
The steady throb of my shoulder drew my attention to the thick bandage covering my collarbone down to mid-bicep.
“You’re lucky it wasn’t your head she shot.”
Still staring at the bandage, I couldn’t help it as the corners of my lips pulled upward.
“Ah yes, what a lucky day it was.”
“You know what I mean.” A hot hand engulfed both of mine in a tight grasp. “Watching you fall into that grave while hearing her shot and Peters’s go off simultaneously….” I turned to face the man I loved, my heart hurting at the dark circles beneath his eyes, the hollowness in his gaze. “I can’t lose you.” His voice broke. Pulling a hand to the edge of the bed, he gripped it tight as he pressed his forehead against the top. “I love you, Lady, and I’d rather be dead than live another minute of this life without you in it.”
The tears that welled from his sweet, honest words spilled over to trickle down my cheeks.
“I love you too, Cas.” Slowly his head rose, his red-rimmed eyes meeting mine. “I do. I love that you love me for me, and I love that you make me feel safe, but more than anything I love the way you make me feel about myself . You’ve shown me who I am again. The girl who was lost ten years ago, you brought her back to life. I never want to hide again, and with you, I never will.”
The sheets rustled beneath his hand as it slid up the bed to tuck beneath my head. Careful to only tip my head forward, Cas leaned close to press his lips against mine.
A light rap on the door pulled him away sooner than I wanted, which I let him know with the small pout I shot his way just before Chandler peeked his head through the door.
“You’re awake,” he said with a relieved sigh. “He was a bear to handle while you were in surgery.”
“Surgery?” My attention zeroed in on my shoulder. “What happened? The last thing I remember was Cas hauling me out of… well, you know.”
The two men glanced to one another. Chandler cleared his throat as he stepped deeper in the room. At my bedside, he again looked to Cas, who nodded.
“The bullet was a through and through, but they had to patch up your shoulder and clean it out. There was a ton of dirt and debris in the wound, and the docs didn’t want to risk infection setting in. The gel ice packs they put on your face calmed the swelling or you wouldn’t be able to see through either eye.”
“Damn Jerry.” My fingers curled around the blanket into a tight fist. “Did you find his body?”
“You mean what was left?” Chandler scoffed. “Yeah. Was he the one who did that to your face?”
I nodded. Looking to the crisp white blanket, I fiddled with a loose string. “Sarah stopped him from assaulting me. She said that was her one rule, no touching. What does that even mean?” I whispered.
Cas’s hand wrapped around mine, stilling the movement. “It means everyone has a limit to what they deem over the line. Rape, touching someone who didn’t want to be, was hers. We read her file, and it seems she’d been sexually abused since birth, which probably influenced her habits as an adult. As crazy as Sarah was, she knew that was a line she wouldn’t cross or allow her partners to.”
“Lance was her foster brother. She said she loved him, and they were a team.”
Chandler’s nodding drew my attention away from Cas. “It seemed they used Lance as a scapegoat. No one would ever admit he acted out, burned down houses, or hurt foster parents because they were abusing Rose.”
“Rose,” I said, mystified. “Such a pretty name for someone so manipulative. She manipulated Sadie this entire time. All the creepy things Sadie did were directed by Sarah, or Rose, whoever she was.”
Both men nodded.
“When Sadie came to, another FBI agent walked through her day and how she got ahold of the coffee. We put two and two together at that point. Poor girl, she was terrified. But I will say, as much as Rose manipulated Sadie, she still is a bit on the looney side. That note she found?” Chandler rolled his eyes. “She created it, all based on the information she pulled from John. Seems all she wanted was his attention.”
“Wow,” I said on a pushed breath. “Sarah, Sadie, Lance, Jerry—am I so na?ve to think that’s a lot of unstable people associated with my life?” A small smile pulled at the corner of my lips. “Maybe I attract the crazies.”
Cas shook his head. “Lance was a victim of Rose’s. She manipulated him and molded him into the perfect little minion she needed. Even though what he did to you was terrible, at that point he was without the person who controlled his every thought, and he spiraled. And Sadie, like we said, she’s a little off anyway and was too easily manipulated by Rose’s mind games. That poor girl didn’t have a chance once Rose saw how susceptible she was. And Jerry”—he bit out the name in disgust—“had a long rap sheet of misdemeanors, ranging from voyeurism to spying. One charge had him spying in a women’s bathroom. Once Rose met him, she knew she’d found the perfect replacement for Lance.”
“How did they even meet? ‘onlybadguys.com’ dating site?”
The two chuckled. “She was a watcher. She probably watched him watch other women for a while and approached him. One thing was clear—on all Rose’s testing, she was off-the-charts brilliant. No one stood a chance against her once she locked in on them.”
“Is she…?” I didn’t want to know, but then again I needed to. Not because I was scared of her coming after me again, but because of all the additional lives she could manipulate and harm in the future if she were still alive.
“Dead.” Chandler smiled. “You can thank me later.”
“How about now?” I pushed off the bed with a smile, set to hug him, but I sucked in a tight breath at the agony radiating from my stomach. Relaxing back, I sealed my eyes shut and focused on slowing my breathing. “What the heck?”
“Your whole stomach and lower back were beat to hell. There was some damage to your kidneys, but nothing requiring surgery. The doctors want to see how they heal on their own. Their main concerns when you came in were the hypothermia and gunshot wound.”
“I broke his nose.” When the pain subsided, I peeled my lids back open. Both men stared down with pride in their eyes. “Then he kicked the crap out of me for it. That was when Sarah came in and shot him. I thought it was you. I thought you’d found me.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Cas’s forehead bunch and lips purse.
“I’m sorry it wasn’t me.”
Grabbing his hand, I tugged it to my heart. “You did when it mattered most. You and Chandler both. Thank you, thank you, thank you. If you two hadn’t come to Colorado to investigate….” I shook my head, trying not to think of my body in that grave they’d dug for me. “The other women, were they buried close?”
“Within a hundred yards. We found them all. The only difference was the woman who was taken from town looked to have sustained vaginal and anal tearing. The other two were like the others in the Smokies: malnourished, abrasions around the wrists, but no rape.”
My gaze swept to the dark window. That made sense, based on what Sarah said in the little shack right before she shot Jerry. For some reason, the knowledge of Sarah’s childhood, the line in the sand she had on assault, made my heart sad for her. Maybe even feel guilty for her death.
“Hey.” Chandler’s stern voice snapped me from my thoughts. “Stop whatever you’re thinking. You’re the victim. Not her, not him. You.”
I chewed on my thumb as his words processed. Ever so softly, Cas’s finger wrapped around my chin, dragging my gaze to meet his. The love and pride shining in his dark eyes brought on a new wave of happy tears.
“No, Peters, you’re wrong.” A slow smile spread across his cheeks. “She’s not a victim. She’s a fucking survivor.”