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“Yeah, Saige.” The detective leaned back in his chair. “Why didn’t you tell me that you had a relationship with her?”
Quinten shrugged, trying to get his head around the fact that Saige had spoken with the detective. “She’d been through enough and I wanted her left alone.”
“So you protected her.”
Quinten stood and began pacing in his small cell. It suddenly felt smaller than it was.
“I love her. I’d have done anything to protect her, and back then it meant keeping my mouth shut. I’m sure you remember her father. He hated knowing that his daughter wanted to spend time with me. I was nothing to the Lockwoods, and I wasn’t someone who they wanted Saige associating with, let alone loving.”
“Why didn’t I find out any of this back then? I specifically asked everyone? How the hell could I have missed all this drama?” Robinson’s jaw tightened with anger, and Quinten couldn’t blame him.
“I asked Alex to keep quiet about my relationship with Saige when she first went missing. I didn’t want you focusing on me when everyone needed to be looking for her. Afterward, there was no reason to come forward without hurting Saige, and I figured you wouldn’t believe me anyway…You were investigating the murder of those five girls and Saige’s abduction, you weren’t investigating a soap opera.”
“It sounds like I was in the middle of one...Fuck!” Robinson sat with his head thrown back before he leaned forward and asked, “Did your wife know about your relationship with Saige?”
Quinten grounded his teeth together at the insinuation. “You know that my wife was an unfaithful bitch. Until I met Saige, and started spending time with her, I’d never been unfaithful, regardless of all the times I felt like giving Jocelyn some of her own medicine. I was a possession to her until I was arrested, then I became inconsequential. She moved on and probably found another sucker.” He paused and thought about Jocelyn. He didn’t think she had ever loved him, despite their marriage. He took in a breath before answering the detective’s question. “So yes, Jocelyn did know about Saige, but not to begin with. It all really came to a head when Saige went back to school, a week before she went missing. I went crazy not knowing where she was or how she was. I have the scar from Jocelyn’s anger down my face. A constant reminder.”
“The scar she always said was in self-defense when you were taking your anger out on her.”
“I never laid a finger on her, and you know that. You never believed a word she said.”
“I believed you, and you’re right. I never believed her. But I wish I’d known about all that shit back then.”
“It probably wouldn’t have made a difference. My DNA was all over that shack. Shit like that doesn’t lie.”
“It would have explained your protectiveness over Saige when you both were found. It might have made the jurors question the reason you were in that shack to begin with. They might have paid more attention to the unidentified DNA that was found. You know they presumed you stumbled on the cops, which was why you wrapped yourself around Saige. Made it look like you were protecting her instead of harming her.”
“It’s pointless dredging all that up now. I’m in here, not for much longer, but I’m in here, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.” Quinten dropped his head into his hands.
Silence followed until Robinson broke it. “Your girl’s gone home to question her father and stepmom.”
Quinten’s eyes shot up to the detective’s.
“Alex took her,” he added.
“What the fuck?” Quinten rushed from the bed and gripped the bars that separated Robinson and him. “Why is she with Alex?”
“Calm down,” the guard snapped. “And move away from the bars...Now!”
Quinten breathed like a bull ready to charge, but the thought of her with his brother, instead of him, made his head spin.
“They’re both trying to help you before it’s too late, Quinten. I’m heading to Port Jude as soon as I get the chance, so I’ll try and keep an eye on her.”
His legs gave out, and he dropped his ass to the bed. “I’m so goddamn tired, and I won’t deny that I’m terrified of what’s going to happen across the hall in twenty-one days.” He looked up at the detective, unable to hide the tears on his lashes. “How is she? Is she okay?”
Detective Robinson looked away briefly. “She looked healthy.” He leaned forward. “Look, I don’t know if telling you this will help or not.” The detective had his attention now. “Saige has no memory of her abduction. In fact, she has a large blank space that covers two and a half years. I think small pieces have come back to her recently, one of which was your hands on her skin.” Robinson offered him an amused smile. “She remembered the tattoos on your hands, she also remembered the man who tortured her having none.”
The thought that Saige didn’t remember him, or the love he felt for her cut him deep, but he ignored the pain and asked, “Did she remember when she gave her statement and ID’d me from a photograph?” He hoped the answer wouldn’t send him to hell.
“Five minutes,” the guard warned.
Robinson cleared his throat. “We don’t know about the statement.”
“I heard a but somewhere in there.”
“You did. When we did the photo ID, she was asked if she recognized anyone in the lineup. She chose you.”
He felt like he was about to hurl. “Fuck! Of course she would choose me.”
