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I slam out of the condo and run down the stairs. I hear yelling above me as I go. I trip and fall hard, rolling down to the next flight. I rise up slowly, trying to move as I hear feet pounding after me. I yank open the door for the floor, not caring, just wanting to get away, and praying that whichever of them is after me will continue down the stairs.
I move through the hallway to the service elevator entrance and use my keycard to access the small room. This elevator doesn’t go up to the penthouse. Carmen hated me having access to it, but they didn’t like that the grocery delivery people could come onto their floor. They would have them use the service elevator up to the floor below the penthouse, then I would move everything from here to the penthouse. You can’t access the room or the elevator without the keycard. I step into the elevator as I hear pounding on the door. I look up to see Milton in the window.
“I’ll get you, bitch. You can’t get away from me.” He continues to pound on the window and door. I cower against the back of the elevator as the doors close. I push the button for the garage because he’ll probably expect me to exit on the ground level or main floor.
When the doors slide open, I don’t see anyone waiting for me, and I move out quietly. Other people from the building look at me in shock. My face is bruised. My hair a mess from my fall and I’m still crying.
“Are you okay, miss?” a woman asks me.
“Yes, I’m fine.” I move past her as I hear the ding of an elevator arriving. I take off running, turning to look behind me to see it’s George. I scream and run faster. When I make it to the street, I turn away from the building and away from everything I know. I have to get away from them. I don’t have my purse, a jacket, or anything. I just keep moving, blending in with the crowds of New York. I don’t know where I’m going.
* * *
Rocco
I stand at the back of the group next to Damian. Yes, Chambers has a restraining order against me, but I know if Guinevere has a choice, she will want to see a familiar face. Plus, the ADA has testaments from the ER nurses and physicians that her injuries are consistent with beatings, not falling down the stairs. With the pictures from my phone showing what she has endured, the restraining order against me has been waved for her protection.
Damian turns and nods his head, trying to calm me. I nod back, ready to get this done.
It took all day, but we are finally here to serve George with papers to speak to Guinevere on her own. We also have arrest warrants for him, his wife, and Milton. We are sure Milton is the one who beat Guinevere, and as her guardians, George and Carmen are responsible for her care and allowed her to be hurt. The ADA, Geoffrey, another attorney, and Linc are all standing closer to the door. We’ve rang the bell several times and no one has answered. I’m just about to say fuck it and think they’ve escaped when the door opens.
“How can”—Carmen hiccups—“I help you?” She stands there with a wobble in her step; she’s obviously drunk again. Her eyes move over everyone and then land on me. “The bitch is gone.” She laughs, and the other officers push their way in along with the ADA. I stand in the hall as we had planned and wait. My body is a live wire of energy. I don’t know what she meant by “she’s gone.” I’m praying it isn’t as bad as my gut thinks it is as it churns with acid.
“Hey! Get out of my house. George, get out here quickly,” she yells, her voice hitting decibels that dogs can hear in Jersey.
“What is the meaning of this?” George storms into the room.
The ADA slaps the warrants against George’s chest. He’s disheveled. His hair isn’t greased back like normal, and his eyes are bouncing around. When they land on Geoffrey, they squint, and I watch the hate flow into his vision.
“What are you doing here? I’ve told you, along with several doctors, that you can’t see her.”
“She isn’t even here. Selfish bitch ran off,” Carmen yells as the officers turn her around and cuff her. They read Carmen her rights and haul her toward the door.
I can’t take this and move into the room. “Where is she, Chambers?” I bark.
“Rocco, step outside.” Linc comes up to me.
“You aren’t supposed to be here. Arrest him. What are you arresting my wife for?”
“You are also under arrest, George, for not protecting Guinevere.” Geoffrey laughs. Officers move toward him, and he backs away, holding his hands up.
“I need to call my attorney.” He starts to freak out. But I’m beyond reason. I move toward the hallway I know leads to her chambers. We did our homework before coming here today. Thanks to Linc and the company he works for, we had the schematics to the whole building in under an hour.
As I take the stairs down two at a time, I hear more yelling and screaming from above me. I push open the door to a very small room. Only one lamp is in the room, and I flick it on. The room is bare except for a purse on a table and some clothes in the closet. I grab the purse to give to her when we find her. I continue to look around the room.
“She isn’t anywhere upstairs,” Linc says from the doorway. “The daughter said Guinevere had run off before she woke up. George won’t say anything except to ask for his lawyer. Let’s search and see if we can figure out where she would have gone.” He enters the room. “Jeez, they have everything upstairs, but there is nothing in here. The daughter has a laptop, desk computer, tablet, cell phone, and a stereo. But there is absolutely nothing in this room.”
He's right, this room is bare and cold compared to the rest of the house. And I don’t mean cold as in decor. The room’s temperature is cooler than it is upstairs. There is a heavy quilt on the bed that is thin in spots. I move to the adjoining bathroom and see it has only the basics—toilet, sink, stand-up shower. There are no drawers or cabinets for her stuff. There’s a basket in the corner filled with her girly things. Just seeing that causes my heart to clench.
I move back into the bedroom and start going through things. I look under the bed. She has no spare shoes. Only a couple of changes of clothes and several uniforms. She has a sweater but no coat. I see the edge of a notebook peeking out from under the mattress. I lift it up and find a couple others. I flip one open, and the words stop me.
My girl is a writer. The words of a romance are scrawled across the page. The hero is described as me. I grab the other notebooks when Linc hollers my name. I turn around to see him crouched down in the closet.
“What do you got over there?”
“A stash. She has several notebooks, a library card, and a pass to the museum and zoo. There are also a couple of email printouts and an ad for apartments.” He hands it all to me, and I look around for a bag to put everything in but find nothing.
“Have you found her?” A panicked Geoffrey appears at the door.
I continue to look through the things Linc handed me when it hits me. Guinevere has no one. No friends. No place to go. She is completely alone. If I hadn’t seen her that day, she could be dead now and there wouldn’t be anyone to mourn her except Geoffrey when he found out.
“No. We need to find her,” I growl as I move past him.
“What are those? Anything that will help us find her?” He points to the notebooks.
“Guinevere is a writer. Some of them are journals of everything she’s gone through, but most are stories she’s written, poetry, and mindless word dumps,” I tell him as I hold the big stack of books up.
“She’s just like her mother was. Jennifer was a writer too. Where is she, Rocco?” he asks me, and I see the turmoil in his eyes that are almost glassy with tears. If she’s out there on the streets, Milton could be after her.
“Did they find Milton?”
“No. He isn’t here.”
