31. Zoey #2
I squeezed my eyes shut, tears threatening to spill over. I knew that voice all too well. George. The one that had once whispered sweet nothings in my ear, only to turn around and hurl insults and accusations. God, Heather must have been so scared at that moment.
The door creaked as I pushed it open, announcing my presence. Chief Warman and Heather looked at me, their conversation halting abruptly.
Warman cleared his throat. “Zoey.”
I glanced at him, then Heather. “Can I come in?”
Nodding, Heather gestured for me to join her on the bed again. The bed creaked slightly under my weight as I settled next to her.
Chief Warman cleared his throat. “I was just asking your sister if she recognized the voice of the man who broke into her home.”
I saw the flash of anger in Heather’s eyes. She sat up straighter next to me, her hands gripping the sheets tightly into fists, her knuckles white.
“Of course I recognized it,” she spat out, her words dripping with venom. “It was George. George James. Zoey’s fucking ex.”
The name hung in the air like a curse, and I flinched. Hearing his name spoken aloud made it all too real, too immediate. Thank God Sam had taken Ro. He didn’t need to hear this. Not when he’d lived through it.
I thought of all the times I’d heard that voice raised in anger or dripping with false sweetness. The way he’d whisper threats in my ear, his breath hot against my skin.
And now he’d come for my sister, for my son. My stomach churned, and bile rose in my throat. I stood and paced around the room, the emotions making each step heavy and uncertain.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet Chief Warman’s gaze. “You have my statement, the one I made for the restraining order.” I reminded him. “You saw the pictures, what he did to me. He’s not a good man, I know that. He’s hurt me before, but this...” I trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
Chief Warman nodded, his expression grim. “I’ve got a full-scale search operation underway. We won’t leave any stone unturned, Zoey. I promise you that.”
I wanted to believe him, wanted to take comfort in his words.
But l knew all too well how cunning George could be.
He had vast and dangerous resources at his disposal and could easily slip through the cracks.
Even though I had a restraining order in place, his actions showed he didn’t give a fuck about the legal system.
I sank into the chair beside Heather’s bed, my legs suddenly weak. She took my hand, squeezing it tightly.
Chief Warman leaned forward in his chair, his pen poised over his notebook. “What did you do next, Heather?”
Heather took a deep breath, her grip on my hand tightening. “After I realized it was George at the door, I told Roland to hide upstairs. I wasn’t about to let that bastard anywhere near him.”
Chief Warman scribbled in his notebook. “Then what happened?”
“He broke down the door. Kicked it in like it was nothing. And then he...”
I reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s okay,” I whispered, even though we both knew it was anything but. “You’re safe now.”
Heather blinked back tears. “He hit me,” she said. “Hard. I blacked out for a minute, and when I came to, he’d tied me up. He was just sitting there, waiting for you to come back.”
I felt like I was going to be sick. The thought of George putting his hands on my sister, of him hurting her like he’d hurt me so many times before... it was too much to bear.
Tears streamed down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
“Stop,” Heather said firmly, her grip on my hand tightening.
Chief Warman cleared his throat again, drawing our attention back to him. “I know this is difficult, but I need to know everything that happened. Every detail, no matter how small.”
Heather took a deep breath, then continued her story. As she spoke, I couldn’t help but marvel at her strength, at the way she refused to let George break her.
Chief Warman turned to me, his expression sympathetic yet professional.
“I understand this is a lot to process. You’ve already done so much by obtaining the restraining order.
His decision to breach it only strengthens our case and gives us more leverage to add to the warrant.
If you’re up to it, I’d like to take your statement now.
It would be helpful to have the details while they’re still fresh in your memory. ”
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. The thought of reliving those moments, of putting into words the terror I’d felt... but then I looked at Heather, at the bruises on her face, and my resolve strengthened even more.
“Yes,” I said. “I’ll tell you everything.”
And so I did. I told him about arriving at Heather’s house.
George’s threats towards my sister. How he’d forced Ro into the car and then attempted to do the same with me.
Noah’s arrival, the sound of the gun going off.
My horror at realizing he’d been shot. Watching as George drove off with Ro, the car chase through the streets, and Noah’s confrontation with him.
My voice broke with emotion as I remembered watching George standing over an already wounded Noah, the gun aimed at Noah’s head.
I forced the words out, knowing the more specific and thorough they were, the more Chief Warman could use them against George.
As I spoke, Chief Warman took notes, his pen scratching against the paper. Heather never let go of my hand, her touch a silent reminder that I wasn’t alone.
When I finished, it was as if all the energy had been sucked out of me. But there was also a sense of relief. I’d taken another step toward reclaiming my life.
I noticed the weariness on Heather’s face, and she winced slightly as if fighting off a headache. The events of the night had taken their toll on her, and it pained me to see my vibrant sister so drained.
“Chief Warman,” I said softly. “Can we leave the rest until tomorrow? Heather looks exhausted, and I think she could use some rest.”
Heather’s grip on my hand tightened. “No. I want to get this over with. I just want to go home and forget about this whole fucking night.”
As Warman assessed my sister, his eyes showed a clear sense of concern. “I don’t have any additional questions for now. Is there anything else you think I should know? Either of you?”
Heather managed a weak smile. “George... he’s not right in the head.
I could smell it on him, on his wolf. Something’s wrong.
Something’s broken inside him. He’s sick, but he’s also dangerous.
He’s got nothing to lose. He’s more dangerous than ever before.
” She paused, seeming to gather her courage before continuing.
“Look, I may not have specialized in psychology, but I spent some time doing my rotation there. I truly believe that if he gets his hands on Zoey again, he’ll kill her.
He sees her as a possession, as something that belongs to him. And if he can’t have her...”
Heather let the implication hang in the air. The unspoken threat sent chills down my spine. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stave off the tremors.
“What about Roland?” Warman asked. “Do you think he poses a danger to the boy as well?”
Heather shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. I don’t think George cares about Ro at all, not really. He’s just a means to an end, a way to control Zoey. But if he thought hurting Ro would keep her in line...”
I couldn’t hold back the sob that tore from my throat. The thought of my precious child being used as a pawn in George’s sick games terrified me. I buried my face in my hands, my shoulders shaking with the force of my tears.
“Hey, hey...” Heather tugged me closer to the bed and wrapped her arms around me. “We won’t let that happen, okay? We’ll keep you both safe, I promise.”
But I heard the uncertainty in her voice, the fear that lurked beneath the surface. Because we both knew the terrible truth.
Nobody leaves George James. Not unless he says so.
Chief Warman closed his notebook with a snap and tucked it into his pocket.
“I think we have enough for now,” he said.
“Zoey, I’ll need to talk to Roland, but I’ll wait until morning.
The kid’s been through enough tonight. I strongly suggest you call your attorney and let her know what’s happened. She’ll want to be in the loop.”
I swiped at my tear-stained cheeks. “I will. Thank you.”
Warman’s eyes met mine, his gaze serious.
“We’re working on getting a warrant for George’s arrest. The DA is pushing it through as we speak.
We’ve got him on breaking the protection order, holding your sister hostage, assault, attempted kidnapping of you and your son, and shooting Mr. Alexander. He’s in a world of trouble.”
A flicker of hope ignited in my chest, only to be extinguished by his next words.
“Problem is, we can’t find him. His estate is empty, his known associates aren’t talking. It’s like he’s vanished into thin air.”
My heart sank, the momentary relief giving way to renewed fear. Of course George wouldn’t make it easy. He never did.
Warman leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Zoey, do you have any idea where he might have gone? Any place he might feel safe? Somewhere he could lay low?”
I shook my head helplessly, my mind racing. George had properties all over the world, hidden away under shell companies and false names. He could be anywhere.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “He never told me much about his business, or where he went when he disappeared for weeks at a time. I was just... I was just there to look pretty on his arm.”
I’d been nothing more than a trophy. A possession to be displayed and discarded at his whim.
Warman sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “All right. We’ll keep digging, see what we can turn up. In the meantime, I’m posting more men outside your sister’s house. They’ll keep an eye out, make sure George doesn’t come sniffing around again.”