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I nodded and relaxed back in the bed, watching the television, the broadcasts giving us a colorful spread of Instagram photos that looked nothing like the cold-hearted bitch who had almost stomped a knife through my leg. Claudia had disappeared two years ago, and the photos were all pre-abduction. Claudia, in a nurse’s Halloween costume, making a hang ten sign and sticking out her tongue. Claudia, hugging a giant Rottweiler, sunglasses on, her hair in knots on either side of her head. Claudia, with a group of blurred out faces, outside a club.
I had been in that warehouse for a half-dozen-hours. Claudia had been gone for two years. How could I say what that sort of time did to someone? How could any of us understand the atrocities that must have happened to her to change her from a normal girl to a monster?
I watched a new addition to the show, an opinionated reporter who spewed theories. Vegas Suites had been one of Hawk’s properties, acquired the summer before Claudia disappeared. She’d been a front desk agent, and had been known to be a party girl, one who experimented in drugs when she wasn’t working.
Somehow, the news about Dario and my affair hadn’t hit the press. My kidnapping was being viewed in the same thread as the other victims—the snatch of a young woman who could be trained to do Hawk’s biding.
The reporter pointed to the camera, his voice growing emphatic.
“Imagine the level of brainwashing that Robert Hawk was capable of. He takes Claudia Vorherz out of her daily life—imprisons her—and then has her, less than two years later, doing his hunting for him and continuing his legacy, even after he’s gone!”
He spread his palms and looked at his cohost.
“Think about that. We’re talking about our generation’s Charles Manson. Claudia Vorherz blew up that warehouse without any knowledge of who was still inside. She detonated that structure and could have possibly killed a dozen law enforcement officers, not to mention the remaining prisoners—women just like her—and she did it anyway. Burned the place to the ground with no concern over human casualties, and with her primary focus being on framing Janie Bostic for her crimes. If she didn’t learn that directly from the evil that is Robert Hawk, you tell me where she learned it. Because I’m damn sure she didn’t learn it slinging back beers with her friends…”
The anchors chatted on, but I couldn’t listen to them any more. I reached for the remote and muted the volume. Closing my eyes, I tried to rest my mind. I could do this. One day at a time.
Dario came back in and turned off the lamp. “Her hearing is tomorrow. She still hasn’t said anything.” He folded down the railing on the side of my bed.
I raised my eyebrows at him with a laugh. “What are you doing?”
“Scoot over.” He gently nudged me over to the edge of the bed, the thin mattress sinking as he climbed onto it.
I laughed harder as his elbow knocked over my juice box, his leg getting tangled in the remote cord, his exasperation growing. Then he was pulling me to him, his body curving around mine, and the fit, with us front to back on our sides, was perfect. I relaxed, my mind pulling away from the reporter’s emphatic statements and focused on the deep sounds of his breathing, the soft nuzzle of his mouth against the back of my neck.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
I shifted, moving closer to him. “I’m just worried that we’ll never get away from her. With all of the businesses Gwen owned with her father—businesses that you now own? How will that work, if Claudia inherits his piece of them?”
He carefully sat up, rolling me onto my back so that he could see my face. “I don’t want you to worry about that, about her. She’s in jail. She’s going to be in prison, for a very long time. I’ve got everybody I know working to guarantee that.”
“But one day, she’ll get out.” I met his eyes.
“And we will be fine when she does.” He leaned forward and gently kissed me. When he pulled away, his face was solemn. “Please believe me when I promise you that it will be okay. I will keep you safe. Us safe. I swear.”
I sighed. “I believe you.” I softened under his second kiss, then settled back on my side, his body returning into place, the warm comfort solidifying my trust in him.
“Don’t give up on us,” he said softly, and the request surprised me. We’d survived. Hawk. Claudia. Everything. Giving up? Running? That was the last thing on my mind.
Love me through the cracks.
I pulled his arms tighter around me. “Never.”
Twenty-Nine
ONE WEEK LATER
DARIO
She rolled over in bed and stretched, his white t-shirt huge on her, her dark hair tickling his bicep. He gathered her into his chest and she curled against him, one leg thrown over his, the gauze of her bandage brushing against him. She winced, and he carefully eased her higher, into a position that was better for the wound.
