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I shot up from the chair and covered my mouth as bile rose up my esophagus. Didn’t help. I barely made it to a nearby trash can. Everything in my stomach came out. I clutched the edges of the can, dry heaving as I struggled to come to terms with what I’d just learned.
A bottle of water appeared in front of me. I took a swig, rinsed my mouth, and spit before drinking a long swallow. The acrid taste in my mouth remained.
She was locked in a basement for five years and sold as a sex slave.Beautiful and resilient Trish. I’d kicked the woman out of my home, out of my life, and done exactly what Baker had said.You don’t know shit.Fuck. “Now’s not the time,” Marlow said softly.
“I didn’t know,” I whispered.
“I’m sure she’d prefer that you didn’t.”
My brain kicked into gear. “Where is that fucker now?”
“Out on bail,” Daniel answered with disgust. “Some hotshot lawyer got him out after eleven months. And when I find him, he’s going to pay too.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “No.No.” It couldn’t be, but there was no way it wasn’t. “I have to call Patrick.”
It only took two rings for him to answer, but it felt like an eternity.
“Want to go get a drink? I need a whole bottle,” he said.
“I’m putting you on speaker,” I returned crisply.
“What’s his name, Daniel?” I demanded.
“Huxley Buchan.”
“How do you know him?” Patrick asked with an edge I’d never heard in his voice.
“He’s the motherfucker who locked Trish in a basement.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t,” he finally said, sounding devastated.
“You said his sister is fucking FBI or some shit, right?” Bits and pieces of conversations I’d just as well forget came back to me.
“Yeah.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Daniel pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I need her name and everything else you know about where the fuck your client is. Attorney-client privilege no longer applies.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Of course.”
“How’d she escape?” I asked.
“Ella. She was pregnant, bleeding all over the place. One of the johns showed mercy on her when Buchan was out. Took her to the hospital.” Baker’s eyes were bloodshot, though she didn’t look as if she’d been crying.
“Fuck me.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Where is Ella?”
“Right next to Blake.” Marlow indicated toward two carriers resting on a table.
I needed to hold that baby. She was a part of Trish. A tangible part to give me hope.
“She’ll scream,” Baker warned.
I gave the phone to my father and picked her up anyway. She blinked up at me with long, dark lashes as if begging me to save her mother.
“We’ll get her home, Flower.” I held her to my chest and kissed the top of her head.
“He ditched the ankle monitor in Brooklyn,” Patrick said desperately.
“When?”
