Chapter 6 Lincoln
Ireturned to my apartment that night half disgusted by what I did and half excited to see her again.
J.C. was at the dining table when I walked in.
“Hey, I’ve been waiting for you. I think I found some info on your girl. In 2018, there were two girls who went missing. She matches the description you gave, but this says her name is Alayna Morris and she was from Tennessee. Did she have an accent? You know, like yeehaw?”
I rolled my eyes, but I thought about it. I only heard her say her whisper her name, and I couldn’t tell.
“Her mom’s been looking for her for years. Running this place on a rampage. No leads, of course. Oh, and her friend Charlie also got taken.”
“Show me her picture.”
J.C. turned the computer around and, staring back at me, was the girl that had been hanging by her wrists in that apartment, but this picture showed her innocence and beauty. It looked like a college graduation picture. She was smiling, with cute little dimples showing on each cheek, her wavy light brown hair hanging just beneath her shoulders, and her smile actually touched her big brown eyes.
My chest tightened at the thought of her being ripped from her life into a life of misery and pain. She was just an innocent girl. A lot of times, men like Alek would choose prostitutes or addicts who were already on the street so I wondered how this girl got chosen.
I ran my hands through my hair. “I could only buy a week, so I need a plan, but I’m going to figure out a way to get her out.”
“Well, a week is not a lot of time, brother. I’ll see what I can pull up. Maybe I can find some dirt and we can blackmail those fuckers.”
“Thank you, J.C.”
She ignored my gratitude and said, “I’m headed home. Text me if you need me.”
I sat on the couch and watched J.C. leave. I didn’t know when they would deliver her here, and I felt anxious about it. Knowing she would think I bought her for sex, I was at least hoping she might remember me.
While I was passed out on the couch, my doorman woke me with a call asking for permission for someone named Eddie and his guest to come up to my floor. My doorman sounded flustered, so I figured it was her. I paid him well to keep his mouth shut, so I wasn’t worried and told him to send them up.
The elevator dinged, and I met them at the entrance. She had her head down. She wore a blue blouse, but I noticed it was covered with blood. Her hair was tangled, and she looked disheveled. “What happened?” I asked the man standing behind her.
He laughed and shoved her forward. She still didn’t look up, but I noticed she clung to his arm. He ripped his arm out of her grip. “Don’t kill her,” he smirked. He got back in the elevator and winked as the doors closed.
We were both left standing there. I reached out to touch her arm, and she flinched. I stepped closer and lifted her chin so her eyes could meet mine. She stared up at me and I saw the recognition register in her eyes. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t respond, but I saw her shake her head. No, she wasn’t okay. She had a huge welt on her forehead, and her lip looked busted. It all looked fresh, like it had just happened.
“Did he do this to you? The man who dropped you off?”
She nodded.
I gritted my teeth.
I pulled her in for an embrace, and she tensed. She didn’t hug me back, but she leaned against me. She had to take a shower, but had nothing with her. No clothes, no bag, nothing. I didn’t even think about getting her anything.
I led her to the couch, where she sat down. She kept her head down.
“I’m going to start a bath for you. I’ll be right back.”
She didn’t respond.
I started the bath in the master bedroom and was going to let her do her own thing. She had everything she’d need in the shower. I laid out some of my boxers and a large white t-shirt. At least this would do until tomorrow.
When I went back to get her, she hadn’t moved at all. Still staring at the ground, looking like a disheveled rag doll. I reached for her arm and lifted her up, and she followed me. Once inside the bathroom, I told her I would let her bathe and to just call out if she needed anything, but she just stood there.
I walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. I poured a glass of scotch and leaned against the counter. The house was quiet, and I didn’t hear any movement in the bathroom. “God dammit. Was she still just standing there?” I wanted to give her some time. She might be in shock or scared. I waited 10 minutes before I pressed my ear to the door. Nothing. No movement. I opened the door a crack, and I saw her in the same position I left her. Standing in the middle of the bathroom, staring at the ground.