Chapter 27
27
ELLIE
S eventy-seven, seventy-eight, seventy-nine.
Seventy-nine ceiling tiles. Yep, I was that bored. Bored and famished. My stomach growled, desperate for nourishment or candy; the grumble seemed to echo in the small area. Jake glanced up from his phone with a sympathetic smile.
“Sorry, Ellie.” He sighed, tossing the phone to the chair beside him. “I’m not comfortable with us leaving to get something to eat.” Biting his lip, he looked toward the back of the station. “But….” I straightened in the uncomfortable seat with the hope that one word created. “There might be some snacks hidden in Hart’s or Swann’s desks if you want to rummage through them.”
I was out of the chair before he finished talking. Leaving him sitting in the front lobby, I pushed through the side door into the officers’ area, which was nothing but a small cluster of well-used desks. The metal drawers of the first desk I tried rattled as I tugged them open one by one scavenging for anything to eat.
If I found candy, even better. Even a simple Tic Tac or strip of gum would help ease the mounting anxiety. I needed my dose of sugar more than ever, but of course I left my purse at the house when we rushed out after the news that Brett was missing and now the main suspect. Coming up empty again, I slammed the drawer shut, the objects atop the desk shaking.
One more place to check. I cast a weary glance toward Brett’s office. With a resigned sigh, I weaved between the desks and paused, resting my hand on the office doorknob. I hesitated, though not sure why. It wasn’t like I’d find any evidence, right? Well, he was stupid enough to leave fingers in his cruiser, so maybe I might. I shivered at the thought of what could be hiding behind the solid door.
Squaring my shoulders, I twisted the knob and pushed. Groping along the wall, I searched for the light switch. Soon the overhead fluorescent bulbs buzzed as they flickered to life. A large desk and chair sat in the middle of the room with two smaller, lower chairs in front.
I huffed and rolled my eyes. Brett really did have an ego issue. That part of the profile seemed to hold true. My curiosity piqued as I surveyed the office, from the disheveled stacks of files in the corner to the messy desk and the old cup of coffee that sat beside a closed laptop.
The laptop held my attention, making it difficult to look away. There could be something on there that could help Alec and Chandler, evidence maybe. The heavy leather rolling chair creaked as I rolled it out from under the desk and gingerly sat in the large seat. Digging the heels of my boots into the floor, I walked the chair forward.
Before cracking the laptop open, I rummaged through the two right-side drawers, then the left in search for food. An old-looking protein bar, an empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s, and a half-eaten bag of stale potato chips were all I found. I pressed a hand to my hollow stomach, hoping that would help quell the building ache.
After a cautious peek to the closed office door, I flipped the laptop open. The dark screen came to life, a small password box standing out in the middle. Biting my lip, I stared at the blinking cursor. Hopefully Brett used the same basic password for this laptop as he did everything else in his life.
“One, two, three, four,” I whispered to myself as I pressed the numbers on the keyboard. I cringed, hoping it wouldn’t blare an alarm or something if it was wrong, and hit Enter.
It worked.
A picture of Brett and me from ages ago filled the screen. He was smiling and I was… well, I guess that was a smile. I studied the picture, my focus on me, specifically my gaunt features and the hollow look behind my gaze. It was a vast difference than the woman who stared back at me in the reflection this morning. So much had changed since that picture—hell, in the past two weeks.
I was happy.
That reminded me. Tugging my cell phone from the hidden pocket of my leggings, I pulled up the text string I had with Chandler.
Me: This is a terrible way to say this, but I can’t wait.
Me: I love you too.
Me: And yes. Yes to going back with you.
Me: I’m ready to live.
Me: With you.
My cheeks burned with my wide smile as happy tears slipped down. I wiped them away with the back of a hand and cleared my throat of the clogged emotions.
A blue folder sitting on the desktop with my name as the label caught my eye.
Frowning, I double-clicked on the folder. A new box appeared on the screen, several files inside.
Squinting at the screen, I leaned closer.
Why in devil’s balls would Brett have several dozen movie files in a folder with my name on it? I hovered the white arrow over the oldest-dated file, hesitating. Did I want to know? Did I really want to know? Or would whatever I find cause more harm than good? Sometimes the truth added bars on your cage rather than setting you free.
Jake’s muffled voice slipped under the closed door. I stared at the door, expecting it to swing open and be caught red-handed. But it didn’t. With a sigh of relief, I refocused on the file I had yet to click on.
With a quick double-tap on the mouse, the video filled the screen. It was dark, a single blurred figure in the distance, but something about the room seemed familiar. With a reluctant click on the Play button the video began.
That room. I knew that room
That girl. I knew that girl.
My breathing stuttered, my heart racing as my face came into focus. My skinny naked body strapped to Brett’s bed. A menacing laugh rattled the speakers before Brett’s naked ass filled the screen as he strode to the bed, whatever he held in his hand dragging behind him along the floor.
Not able to endure one more second, I slammed the laptop shut. Bending forward, I put my head between my legs, attempting to slow my erratic breaths, but that only made the stomach acid that was already mounting to burn along the back of my throat.
Hand squeezing my throat to keep from puking, I inhaled a lungful of air through my nose.
There had to be thirty or more videos in that folder.
Why would he tape me? Tape us?
Horror filled every inch of my body as I bolted upright. What if he sent the videos to others and didn’t just use them for his spank bank? Swiping at the touch pad, I pulled up his email, then hovered the white arrow over the Sent folder and clicked. A knowing feeling had me typing out one name into the search bar.
Jacob.
Hundreds of emails filtered through, half with attachments and the other half without. I clicked on an email without an attachment, the date a few weeks after Jacob had exiled me from the community. My eyes widened as I scanned the words.
The fucker traded me.
I fell backward, the chair rolling back an inch with the momentum. Jacob traded me to Brett for protection against Janice’s accusation on how she found me and anything I might try to accuse The Church of.
My heart broke. Not because I loved Brett, but I at least trusted him, and this was pure betrayal.
The screen wavered in my vision from unshed tears as I enlarged an email with an attachment and an ominous subject line.
Payment for Use.
For the second time in a matter of minutes, nausea rolled my stomach. I gagged, slapping a hand over my mouth.
A male shout of alarm from the other side of the door had me holding a breath to listen.
Another shout, then a deafening boom that sounded a lot like gunfire—well, the gunfire on TV. But the following silence was what chilled me to the bone. Jake wasn’t on the other side of the door yelling everything was okay. Which meant… it wasn’t.
I’d seen enough crime shows to know that when something seemed off or sounded wrong, it usually was. Trembling with the swell of fear coursing through my veins, I slipped from the chair and inched beneath the desk.
Knees to my chest, I cowered in the corner, making myself as small as possible. I clasped a hand over my mouth and nose to quiet my heavy breathing. Blood pounded in my ears, yet still the distinctive click of the door opening filtered through. I swallowed back a terror-driven sob.
Brett found me. This was it unless I did something besides hide helplessly beneath the desk of my would-be captor and killer. Witch’s tits, he was going to kill me.
Tears leaked from my eyes. I really didn’t want to die today.
Soft, menacing footsteps slowly rounded the desk.
My entire body quaked as I slipped the borrowed knife from the waistband of my leggings. As quiet as possible, without slicing my own finger off, I flicked the blade open like I’d practiced and pointed it toward the opening.
The plastic wheels rattled as the chair was shoved away from the desk.
My entire body vibrated with a mix of fear and adrenaline. Shifting, I balanced on the balls of my feet, ready to lunge forward and sink the pointy end of the knife into Brett’s eye or neck or ear. Hell, I didn’t care as long as I hurt him. I wanted to wound him like those videos had just damaged me. I felt violated, betrayed, and I fucking hated him.
First a knee peeked around the edge of the opening, then a hand appeared, pressing the tips of all five fingers to the floor as if to balance the owner as he prepared to peer under the desk.
I sucked in a breath so loud the people in Waco probably heard it. No doubt creepy-as-Hades Brett did, notifying him I was in fact hiding under the desk.
A battle cry built in my throat, ready to scream with the pent-up terror and hate that filled every inch of me, when an unexpected face popped below the desk and grinned.
Ryan.
I deflated, the knife shaking in my still extended hand as a soul-crushing sob bubbled out from my parted lips.
Ryan’s smile didn’t falter. “There you are.”
“I thought you were him,” I said between sobs. “I thought you were Brett here to take me away.”
“No, Ellie. Not Brett. Hope you’re not disappointed.”
I smiled only for it to freeze halfway. There was something off about his entire demeanor. I swiped the unshed tears from my eyes to see him clearly. Alarm bells immediately sounded in my head, telling me to run.
“Where’s Jake?” I asked cautiously, keeping my tone light just in case my instincts blurting “red alert” were right. I didn’t want him to realize my suspicion.
“Why do you care?” Ryan’s eyes narrowed, but his strained smile stayed.
“Um, because he’s my friend, and I was just wondering?—”
“Oh, I get it. You’re fucking him too.” The hand not balancing his weight slammed against the desk, making the metal rattle, the resounding boom ringing in my ears. “First my brother, then the guy from Boren and that FBI asshole. Now Officer Jake. You’re a damn whore, Ellie. Guess that’s what happens when you’re trained that way.” Closing his eyes, he took a deep inhale like he was calming himself down. “Not that it matters anymore. It’s just you and me.”
“Ryan, what are you talking about?” My voice shook. “You’re my friend.”
“No, I’m the one who you overlooked all these years. But not anymore. Come on, we’re leaving.”
Right. That sounded like a terrible idea.
The metal handle of the knife dug into my clammy palm as I adjusted my grip. I wasn’t a victim. I was a survivor, and now, because of Chandler, I had something worth living for.
No, I wouldn’t make taking me easy for him.
Even if I died trying.
I huddled farther back, cramming myself tighter into the corner.
“Come on.” Ryan’s frustrated voice boomed in the small area. With a grunt of annoyance, he stuck his hand into my hidey-hole, fingers stretching to grab on to anything he could use to pull me out against my will.
Not today, Satan.
Not today.
With the knife secured in my tight fist, I lashed out at his hand, slicing and swinging at any part of him I could reach. Finger, artery, palm, I didn’t care as long as I inflicted damage. Warm liquid splattered across my hand, a few drops flinging against my cheek from my erratic slicing.
Ryan screeched, the sound piercing through my eardrums. I fought against the urge to cover my ears. Instead I followed his bloody retreating hand, continuing to stab at anything I could. I fell onto my knees, my free hand smacking against the floor and catching my body weight before I could face-plant forward. Ryan collapsed backward, still screaming and cursing my name, leaving the small opening unguarded.
I’d been in situations like this before with Jacob, when I’d done something that required punishment after, and I knew this was my only chance to escape. Even if I couldn’t get away, I’d at least be free from the confines of beneath the desk, and that was better than being stuck under here.
Taking the opportunity, I scurried out, keeping my wide eyes on Ryan as I crawled backward.
“You stabbed me,” he screamed. “You fucking cut me.”
Using the wall for support, I crawled up it, my knees knocking with fear and the surge of adrenaline.
Run. I had to run.
I tripped, a bolt of pain spreading down my bicep where the edge of the metal filing cabinet had nearly punctured the skin. Stumbling toward the door, I let out a cry of frustration when the knob slipped in my sweaty palm.
A shuffle at my back begged me to turn and look, but I stayed focused on the normally simple task of opening the door. A sob of relief passed my trembling lips as the latch clicked, allowing me to swing the door open.
I lurched forward, my hip nailing the edge of one of the desks I’d rummaged through for snacks. My name growled from behind me, the tone loud and furious, almost had my already weak legs buckling under the weight of my terror. But I had to keep going. At the next door, I gripped the knob and turned, yanking at the same time with all the strength I had left.
It flew open, banging against the wall. The noise was almost enough to cover the approaching footsteps.
Almost.
I was running out of time. Bouncing from one wall to the other down the hall, I skidded to a stop when the lobby came into view.
Jake.
I choked on a sob, covering my mouth with my clean hand.
The dark crimson pool surrounding his motionless body stunned me enough that my muscles froze.
I couldn’t move even when the pounding footsteps down the hall grew louder.
Couldn’t move when a panting chest pressed to my back and hot breath brushed against my ear.
Couldn’t move when his sticky hand wrapped around my throat.
“You really shouldn’t have done that.”
His hand sealed against my ear. With a hard shove, I sailed through the air, the wall coming faster than I could react.
I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the impact.
My temple collided with the cinderblock wall.
A burst of pain followed by an almost cry on my lips.
Then nothing but darkness.
Blissful, painless darkness.