16. Whitney
WHITNEY
“Where’s Quake?”
I smile reassuringly at Melissa. He’s been gone for hours, and she’s been worrying almost the entire time. So have I.
“He’ll be back soon.” I nudge her shoulder with mine. “Why don’t you go pick the movie you want to watch so it’s ready when he gets here?”
She rushes to the couch, Stella on her heels, and grabs the remote. She’s flipping through the streaming options when the door finally opens and Quake steps inside.
“Quake!” she yells happily. “I’m picking out the movie we’re gonna watch.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets. “Gimme a minute to talk to Whitney, and then we can get to that movie, okay?”
She nods, and he leads me into the bathroom. My eyes roam over him, and I note that he’s not wearing the same thing he left in.
“Who’s clothes are those?” I ask.
“Pilot’s,” he replies, glancing down at the black t-shirt and sweats. “He’s the only one who had anything that would fit.”
“Why’d you need them?”
His face falls. “I was covered in blood. Didn’t want to scare you or the kid.”
Gasping, my hands automatically go to his arms, his chest, and then I turn him around to run them over his back.
“What are you doing?” he asks, laughter in his tone.
“Checking you for injuries.”
He spins around to face me, grinning. “Is that the same thing as checking me for ticks? Because I can get on board with that.”
“What?”
“Never mind,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m fine, I promise.”
“Then whose blood were you covered in?”
“Keith’s.”
“Oh.”
“He confirmed that Tom was who hurt Melissa.” I don’t say anything, so he continues. “He also confirmed that he was trafficking Jackie, but he wouldn’t give up who he works for.”
“What will happen to Jackie now?”
“Someone will go talk to her, one of the brothers. We’ll make sure she knows she’s safe now. At least from Keith.”
“And what do we do about Melissa?”
His face falls. “You’re not gonna like it.”
Anxiety rolls my stomach. “We need to get her to talk,” I say.
“Yep,” he confirms. “I hate it, but we need her.”
I take a deep breath and nod. “I know. I just wish we didn’t.”
“Me, too.” He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, and I sway into his touch. “How do you want to handle this, Whitney?” he asks, severing the moment.
“As gently as possible.”
We return to the living area, and Melissa’s face lights up. It kills me that we’re about to diminish that light.
“Ready to start the movie?” Melissa asks cheerfully. “I picked Toy Story.”
“Can we talk first?” Quake asks, sitting next to her while I sit on her other side.
Her joy immediately disappears. “About what?”
“Do you remember me telling you that we’d need your help because you’re so smart?” I ask.
She nods.
“Well, we need your help again,” Quake tells her, pulling his cell phone out of his sweats pocket. “I’m going to show you a picture, okay?”
Melissa nods again, and he flips the screen around. Immediately, all color drains from her face, and my stomach drops. She recoils so violently that Stella barks from her place on the floor, sensing the child’s distress.
“It’s him,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “It’s him.”
Tears fill her eyes, and panic becomes prominent as she scoots as far back on the couch as she can. Stella jumps up onto her lap, trying to help in the only way she knows how.
“It’s him,” Melissa repeats.
Quake and I remain still because even though he got confirmation from Keith, Melissa identifying Tom somehow makes it more real.
“It’s okay,” Quake soothes, but it does nothing to calm her.
“It’s him,” she repeats, over and over and over.
I slowly stand, my vision narrowing.
Tom.
His name echoes through my skull.
Tom.
Tom.
Tom.
A man who I barely remember because he was always outside. He’s a groundkeeper, a nobody in the day to day operations of Sacred Haven. He’s always been polite, quiet, and kept to himself.
Tom.
He’s a man who fooled us all, who hurt a little girl and sent her world spinning even further out of control than it already was.
Tom.
“Whitney!”
Quake’s shout cuts through the haze, pulling me back from the brink of insanity.
I look at him, and he releases a pent up breath. “We need more,” he whispers, glancing quickly at Melissa.
I nod and kneel in front of the couch. Lifting her small hand in mind, I squeeze it reassuringly.
“He can never hurt you again, okay?”
Melissa shakes her head. “T-that’s not true.”
Confused, I spare Quake a look before asking, “What do you mean?”
Putting on a brave face, she utters four words that change everything.
“My caseworker knows him.”
Quake goes rigid, and I stop breathing. Time ceases to exist, and the air in the room disappears.
In a rush, everything floods back in, overwhelming my senses.
“What?” I ask calmly, although I don’t feel the slightest bit calm.
Melissa sniffles. “I saw them talking.”
“When?” Quake asks.
She lowers her head, fresh tears sliding down her cheeks. “After the accident.”
I don’t remember sitting down. One minute, I’m standing kneeling in front of the couch, and the next, I’m in the chair across the room at the table, trying to make sense of what she said.
My caseworker knows him.
The words replay over and over in my head.
Carrie knows Tom.
Of course she does.
He's a volunteer at Sacred Haven, and she’s the caseworker for Sacred Haven, ergo, they’ve met and interacted at some point. There’s nothing unusual about that, nothing at all.
Right?
Except Melissa never said she knew Tom. She didn’t know his name, just that the picture was of the man who hurt her. What she did say is that she saw Carrie and Tom talking.
I glance across the room. Melissa is curled into a ball, Stella close.
Quake paces the length of the suite, the tension radiating from him is almost tangible. Every muscle in his body appears locked tight, his jaw clenched so hard I'm surprised his teeth don't crack.
Finally, he stops near the couch. "Melissa."
The little girl immediately looks at him.
"Do you remember when you saw them together?"
She wipes at her eyes. "A little."
"Can you tell us about it?" His voice is gentle like it always is with her.
Melissa nods. "It was after the accident,” she says, repeating what she already told us.
Quake crouches in front of her. "Where were you?"
The little girl thinks for several seconds. "At the park."
"A park?" I ask because that doesn’t make sense.
She nods. “Carrie took me there before she brought me to Sacred Haven.”
Now I'm confused. “Why?”
“I dunno,” she says with a shrug. “She told me to go play, but I was sad and didn’t want to.”
“Go on,” Quake encourages.
“I hid under the slide and watched her,” she continues. “I was afraid she was going to leave me there.”
“But she didn’t,” I say absently.
“Nope. That guy came, and they talked for a while.”
“Did you hear anything they said?” he asks.
“No, but I think they were mad at each other. They were yelling, and people were staring.” Melissa pushes to her feet. “I’m tired. Can I go to bed?”
Quake and I exchange a look before he says, “Sure, sweetheart.” He stands and walks toward me. “Go ahead and get her to sleep. I’ve gotta go fill Lyric in.”
“Okay.”
It takes an hour, but Melissa finally settles into a restless sleep. I cover her with the blanket and tiptoe to the couch where I sit with my legs curled under me.
So much has happened since the moment Sister Beatrice introduced me to Mr. Jeffries. At the time, I was a twenty-three year old woman who knew exactly what lay ahead. Now, a few weeks later, nothing is as it should be.
My faith is being tested, and I’m not at all thrilled that I find it lacking. My devotion to a God that would allow children to endure what Melissa has makes me sick. With each passing day, I fall further and further down a path that’s unknown territory, and despite the horror of the situation…
I don’t hate where I’m at, spiritually, mentally, or physically.