Olivia #2
What if this whole facade is for show, and he works for Miguel?
I know it’s not logical, but now it’s in my head.
I don’t understand why the fuck he wants me.
But it’s not like he can have me because what if I do have herpes?
I should tell him before we ever even get there.
If, big if, because this woman is fucking stunning.
“She’s clingy and absolutely nuts if she feels rejected,” Bodhi whispers in my ear, and Rhett laughs. “She once tied me to a bed and sobbed for an hour because I didn’t want to date.”
“Where is that coming from?” I ask.
“The moment you look at her, you start looking sad,” he says quietly.
“At least you admit there is a difference,” I mutter, but squeak when he suddenly grabs my chin and makes me look at him.
“You are insanely gorgeous, Olivia. I don’t ever want to hear you imply any different," he says firmly.
“Or what?” I ask, and Rhett barks out a laugh.
“Liv, are you a brat?” Rhett asks, almost giggling.
“Me?” I ask. “I don’t think so.”
“Pretty girl, I will bend you over my knee and spank your ass bright red if I ever hear you degrade my girl like that again,” he says firmly.
“Your girl, huh?” I ask, and a wicked grin spreads across his face.
“Yeah. My girl,” he confirms. “You’re mine, Liv, and you are everything I want.”
“Do you think she’s pretty?” I ask.
“Son, if you answer that, I’ll hit you,” Daisy says as she lays our check down. Bodhi pulls out cash and hands it to her as we get up. “You kids have a good night.”
“You too, Daisy,” Rhett says.
Marcy is already gone by the time we get to the truck. I am incredibly nervous as we drive, and it makes it worse when Bodhi starts driving in circles and making loops around town to make sure we aren’t being followed before we start down Highway 16.
When we stop on the side of the road, he pulls through the weeds until it opens up beside the barn. There is a blacked-out Chevy of some sort back here, also. When we walk into the barn, we look up when we hear a floorboard creak.
“That you, Marcy?” Bodhi calls out.
“Yep. Sorry,” she says, peeking over the railing.
Rhett goes first up the ladder before I do, and then Bodhi. With Marcy is a man. “Hey, guys,” Marcy says sweetly. “This is Tim Chambers. He is the lead over sex crimes.”
“This is Rhett McDonald. He is a cop, but his father is the sheriff here in Willow Creek. We are bypassing him because who we have issues with is way too close to Dan right now for us to talk to him,” Bodhi says. “I am Bodhi Jensen, and this is Olivia Monroe.”
“It’s nice to meet you all,” Tim says warmly. “I’ll admit, I’ve never met in a barn for intel before, but it works.”
“First,” Marcy says. “Simply, but directly, what is this regarding?"
“Uhm…” I say, my voice trembling as tears surface. I turn, and Bodhi hugs me. “I’m sorry. I’m trying.”
“Hey. Shh. You’re doing amazing, Liv. I’m so proud of you, okay? Everything is going to be okay,” Bodhi says softly. I nod, and he wipes away my tears before I look back at Marcy.
“Don’t rush yourself,” Tim says softly.
“Uh… A trafficker that goes by the name Miguel,” I say quietly. Marcy’s head snaps to Bodhi and then to her boss.
“Shit,” Tim sighs. “Yeah, I’m familiar with him.”
“I was married to Jason Hayes for ten years,” I say.
“Monday, I have to be in court in Dallas to testify about everything I know because Jason is trying to say I am the ringleader, when he used me as… currency… he rented me out… hundreds of times… Miguel was just in my cabin and threatened to kill me if I named him. He made it sound like Jeramy, the detective, is relaying information to him… My old phone has all of the evidence as far as… I have all of Jason’s files.
I have hundreds of clients' names, pay accounts, referrals, what they did to me, and just… Everything. It directly links Jason and Miguel to selling me hundreds, if not thousands, of times.”
“Holy shit…” Tim says. “And it’s gone, isn’t it?”
“The phone is,” I say. “I have a few backup copies, though.”
“How many?” he asks, but I don’t say anything. “Fair enough… What format is it in?”
“A microSD card,” I say. “I refuse to go to jail for the man who tortured me for a decade. If this doesn’t clear me, I…”
“If it is what you say it is, it will clear you,” Tim says. “But I need some kind of assurance that you are the victim you say you are.”
I set my bag down and pull off my shirt, leaving me in just a bra. “Oh, Liv,” Bodhi says softly, sweeping my hair off my back to see the scars. I turn to face him so Tim can see, and Marcy gasps.
“Jason is telling them that I did this to myself… That I whipped myself with a metal rod…” I say.
There is hardly a single spot on my back that isn’t covered by scars.
They’re layered, and the scar tissue is thick.
I pull my leggings down and turn, letting him see my thighs.
There are dozens of little round scars where he put a cigarette out on me.
They’re hideous, and I hate them so much.
“Jesus Christ,” Tim says. “May I?”
“Mhmm,” I say. He squats down and gently rubs his fingers across one of the worst scars on the inside of my thigh by my knee.
“This is… I’ve never seen someone alive with this much harm done to them,” Tim says as he stands.
“You mean something to Miguel. It’s the only way he’d keep you alive long enough to endure all of this.
And the fact that you are still free and not locked in a cage?
That’s unheard of. You know that, right? ”
“No,” I say. “I don’t know how things work for any other person being trafficked, but when I was taken to a party, I was the only woman there. I literally never came in contact with another woman, but I know they were out there from what Jason and Miguel would talk about.”
“I wonder if Jason is the brother we’ve been trying to identify?” Marcy asks.
“I’ve heard them refer to each other as brother,” I say. “I never really thought much of it just because it’s not abnormal for a man to refer to a man as his brother when he isn’t.”
“Alright,” Tim says with a heavy sigh. “Would you be willing to hand the SD card over to me?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Just know that if anyone tries to fuck me over, I’ll give it to the media.”
“Lord, don’t do that,” Tim laughs. “I respect you holding your ground. Not many survivors can go this far with getting justice.”
“I’m not doing this for any other reason than to hurt Jason,” I say.
“I want him to rot in prison for everything he did to me… I spent months before coming here working through my trauma and facing the reality of it all. If I have learned anything, it’s that I am the only person I can count on, and if I’m going down, I will burn this motherfucker to the ground with me.
I am done being his victim. I’m done being scared.
I just want happiness, and if I can’t have that, no one can. ”
“Please marry her,” Marcy says to Bodhi, and he laughs.
“I’ve got to get her to fall in love with me first,” Bodhi says, smiling at me.
“Here’s what I’ll do,” he says. “We will meet you at the courthouse in Dallas on Monday. I am going to get a friend of mine to take you on as a client. He looks mean as hell, but he will be the best at making sure you are protected.”
“Is it Jett Prescott by chance?” I ask. “He came to see me in the hospital and looked like he blended kittens into his protein shakes.”
“Yep, that would be him,” Tim laughs. “Jett helps a lot of trafficking victims beat prostitution charges, but he also has clients who get arrested for killing their rapist or abuser.”
“Yeah, he is the one who told me I could legally wipe out Jason’s account while he was in jail because my name was on the account,” I say. “I have his card somewhere.”
“Well, I’ll have him meet us,” Tim says.
I take my necklace off and open the locket. Inside is an SD card containing everything they need to take down a trafficking ring, or at least Jason. I hand it to Tim, and he places it in his suit jacket pocket.
“Thank you,” Tim says. “Are you staying at the cabin?”
“No,” Bodhi says. “I’m having her move in with me.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask him.
“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “I will sleep on the floor if I need to; you are not staying over there alone.”
“I know you want to fight this and maintain this feeling of independence,” Tim says. “But please… This is the time you need to be accepting help from people who are willing and able to help.”
“I don’t want him to get hurt,” I say.
“It’s the price we pay to take care of people we care about,” Rhett says.
When we get back to Bodhi’s house, I am exhausted. The cabin appears to be empty, but we don’t go over and check. Instead, we go inside. I yawn until my eyes water, and Bodhi chuckles.
“Okay. Do you want me with you, on the couch, or something else?” he asks. “I’ll have you in my bed because I’m not about to have you out here on the couch.”
“Uh… with me?” I ask. “I just don’t want to be alone…”
“Okay,” he says with a sweet smile. “I can get you something to sleep in. Is there anything you need tonight?”
“No,” I say. “I’m so tired.”
“Well, let's go lie down,” he says. “Want to help me lock everything?”
“Yeah,” I say. It’s a weird ask, but it means so much to me. Maybe he’s seen the way I obsessively lock doors at the cabin.
We go from window to window and door to door. He locks it, tests it, and then I check it before we move to the next. We make sure all the curtains are shut, too, because that’s a whole other level of paranoia.
He doesn’t judge my paranoia or call it silly. He respected it by showing me that the house is secure. We end at the alarm pad, where he has me press the button to arm the alarm.
When we go to the master bedroom, he pulls a t-shirt out and hands it to me before pulling his shirt off. “Can I shower?” I ask.
“Absolutely,” he says. “I can go over and get what you need, or you can just use what I have.”
“I can just use what you have,” I say. “I’m not picky.”