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“What's this?” I asked testily. The shit head was getting on my nerves now. If it wasn't for Maddie I'd have kicked him out by now. I didn't need his damn magic fingers. Or his soft mouth. Or his long hard...ooh god.
Focus Emma! I snatched the tablet out of his hands. It was a picture. Two girls, both looked to be in their early teens. They were sisters, I could tell, the same wavy blonde hair, green eyes, and long, toned limbs. I read down the bottom. 'Natalie and Layla Geary, 11 and 12 first sisters to make the national junior netball league'
“What is this?” I repeated confused. I snatched the tablet out of his hands.
“Your cousins. These are the daughters of Phillip and Maria Geary, from Auckland, New Zealand.” I gaped up at Simon in wonder.
Holy shit. I had cousins.
Chapter Nineteen
I stared at the picture again. They both looked happy. I wondered how perfect their little life was. I searched for a date. 2010. So they'd be 14 and 15 now.
Wow. I wondered if dad knew them. He and my aunt had had a massive falling out the last time I saw her. No idea what it was about, but it was big enough for her to move countries and never contact us again. I was surprised I’d even managed to remember their surname.
“Can you get Aunt Maria's details?” I don't know if I was more curious or nervous as Simon took back the tablet and tapped away again. I waited impatiently. He looked up, grinning. “How did you even find her?”
“Em. Think about what I do for a living. It’s part of my job to track people down. A number okay?” A number? What the hell would I say? Hey it's your niece you haven't spoken to in years, what's been up? Oh you know, the usual, rape, attempted murder, and agoraphobia, how about you?
Somehow I didn't think that would go down too well.
“I can’t call her.” I shook my head. No way, no how. I could barely call for pizza, let alone my estranged Aunt. Simon looked perplexed.
“Then how about email?” Email. I guess email was okay. She could ignore it if she wanted. It would be up to her to make the move, and I could control how much I told her, how quickly. I nodded.
“Can you email her email address to me?”
“Done.” Smiled Simon. “Now what do I have to do to get a kiss around here?”
I stared at the open page on my email. It seemed like such a hard email to start. How was I supposed to strike up contact with someone I didn't know? Simon had gone home, so this seemed like the perfect time to write to her.
Hi Aunt Maria,
Wow, this is hard. I have no idea what to say or even where to start. I happened to find your email and I wanted to contact you. I haven't seen you since I was six. I'm not sure what that was all about, but I'd love the chance to get to know you.
If you don't want to email me back, I understand.
Emma
I pressed send. There. Now it was out there. No going back. I'd just wait to see if I got a reply. If not, I'd leave it. It felt good to get that out of the way. I closed the email, and opened Google.
“This is such a bad idea.” I said aloud. No good could come from me researching the man who attacked me. That, unfortunately, didn't stop me from typing in Derek Moosly into the search box.
More than a million links showed up. I needed to narrow it down. I added 'assault girl' to the box. His picture filled the screen. I shuddered. I had spent so long trying to block his image out of my mind. His eyes gave a glimpse of the evil he was capable of. I quickly scrolled down. I needed that image gone. My breathing steadied as I focused on my search. I clicked on a page titled 'Rapists behind bars'.
Everything I could have possibly wanted to know about this man was on this page. He grew up in a small town in Kansas, his father killed his brother at age ten, in front of Derek. His mother had suffered depression following the death of her son. His father was thrown in jail for sexually assaulting Derek and his sister Jane. He died as a result of a fight in jail. His mother now lived in Connecticut, with Jane. Margi (his mother) had pulled herself together and now worked as an aged care nurse. Jane was studying medicine at university.
Then I saw it. Right there in black and white. I began to panic. My breathing sped up, I felt faint. I quickly texted Simon, knowing I was not far from passing out. The phone r
ang. I looked at it, unable to pick it up I was shaking so much. No, no, no. Fuck. This could not be happening. Not yet.
But it was.
Derek Moosly had been released on parole. He was out already. It had only been a day.
Fuck. I lifted my arm up and touched the side of my skull. Shit my head hurt. I tried to think back. I couldn't remember anything. I opened an eye and glanced around the very blurry room.
Simon. Mom. Police? Ambulance?
