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“Are you ready, dear?” My father asks as he goes to the back door and grabs his gun belt from the hook.
“Yes, just give me a moment with the boys. I'll meet you in the car.” She tells him before she turns back to us.
“I’ll have Elizabeth skip her breakfast call as I can see you boys will be asleep well into the afternoon. I’ll have her stop by around lunch for something, or you can fend for yourselves, and I’ll have her here for dinner?” Elizabeth is our chef, and while her food is excellent, I don’t like having her here any more than needed. You never know what someone in this house could overhear, and it keeps both her and us safe to have her hear as little as possible.
The guys say I’m paranoid, but I would rather be safe than sorry. Froggie is not somebody I ever want to make an enemy of, and you never know when he may call for us.
“We can handle lunch, mom. We're adults. We know how to survive, even if it is off microwave meals and ramen.” She wrinkles her nose at my mention of such low-quality food but doesn't push. She knows how stubborn I can be, and she doesn't have enough time to go to bat over this. Besides, she might not realize it, but we cook for ourselves all the time. We often sent Elizabeth home and pretended she was the one who made us meals. We still pay Elizabeth, of course, but I try to keep her away as much as possible. She's an older lady, and she doesn’t need us adding problems to her life or putting it in danger.
“Fine, fine.” She sighs and throws her hands up in a gesture of surrender as she sits on a stool to throw her overly high heels on. I’ll never understand how women don’t break their ankles or necks in those things.
“I’ll have her come for dinner only, but I expect you boys to stick around and eat whatever she makes. I’m not sure how long things will take at the station, but I’m hoping we will be back by then. We can sit down and have a nice family dinner?” It comes out like a question, even though I’m pretty sure she was trying to tell me that's what will happen.
“Sounds good mom.” I tell her and give her a nod. I don't need to look to know Zander and Spencer nod as well. Nobody can guilt us quite like my mother, and she doesn’t even have to try.
Her smile lights up her face once again, and I know that, like it or not, we will be here for dinner. If something so simple can make her so happy, then it’s the least we can do after years of her putting up with our shit.
She quickly pecks another kiss on each of our cheeks as a goodbye and heads for the door to follow after my father.
“Behave, boys.” She shouts out just before the door shuts behind her, not needing to hear our reply.
“Fuck my life. I’m going to bed.” Zander says as he heads out of the kitchen and down the hall toward his room. “Don’t wake me until dinner. If the house catches on fire, just let me burn.” His voice carries back to us through the otherwise empty house, followed by the sound of his door slamming closed.
Spencer gives me a two-finger salute and heads down the hall as well. He doesn't say a word, but I hear his door click closed a few minutes later.
I turn around and head to the basement door right next to the garage door, most people overlook it as a closet, and that's fine by me; it just means more privacy.
As I walk down the steps, the temperature drops, and I can’t help but relax. I've always loved having my room in the basement. Something about the cool air and the isolation is always refreshing.
I don't even bother changing. Simply loosening my tie as I walk into my room without turning on a light and flop down on my stomach, face in the pillow. I swear this bed isn't usually this comfortable, but right now, I won't complain.
For a few minutes, I run what happened back in my mind, trying to make sure we didn't miss or overlook anything knowing Froggie specifically asked for perfection on this job. When nothing sticks out, my mind drifts to Jade, how small she was in that pit alone and how bright her smile was just from seeing us.
I pass out thinking of her and all the horrors she could have endured while trapped in that hell.
The ride to the station wasn’t too long, but long enough for the girls to get anxious. Somehow I was able to keep everyone calm, with the exception of Charlotte, who has been crying on my lap since I came back. When we park, the doors open, and we’re led to a room to wait together. Thankfully it isn’t a cell, but the other girls are still frazzled and feeling like caged animals as we sit and wait.
The officer, Gray, according to his name tag. The one who had been outside waiting when those guys found me has been in a few times—leaving us water, snacks, and even a few blankets and pillows. I thank him for everyone as nobody trusts him enough to speak with him.
Some of the girls aren't even talking to me as their anxieties get the best of them. After being trapped, used, and abused by men, being stuck in a building with a bunch of strangers, most of whom are men, has them spiraling.
Charlotte finally fell asleep in my lap after crying for so long that I questioned how she had any tears left in her tiny body. We have all taken some snacks and water at this point, though I made the other girls wait until I tested them first. If it means keeping them safe, I have no problem being their test dummy. Unfortunately, being in the pit left my mouth dry and my throat feeling like sandpaper, and I chugged my water instead of sipping it like I knew I should have.
I’ve had to pee for at least the last fifteen minutes, but I wanted to make sure Charlotte was out before I moved her and left the room. I don’t want to cause her any more panic if she should wake up and find me gone.
As gently as possible, I lift Charlotte's head and slide a pillow under it. I sit for another minute to ensure she’s still out before I stand and head for the door.
I test the knob, and to my surprise, it’s unlocked. I pull it open before I pop my head out and look up and down the hallway. To the right is empty, and it looks like the hall just continues down for a while before turning off to the right with doors scattered at random intervals all the way to the end.
To the left is where we came in, meaning it leads out to the station's main room, where other halls branch off. Officer Gray stands just to the left of the door, his back angled towards me as if he’s waiting for someone to walk down the hall at any moment.
I step out into the hallway and let the door fall closed once again. The subtle click of the door falling back into place is enough to get his attention, and he turns around, coming face-to-face with me.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you open the door.” His hand goes to the back of his neck in what seems like a nervous gesture, though I have no idea what he has to be worried about.
“The chief should be here any minute now. I’m sorry we don’t have a better waiting area for you to be in; we haven’t really dealt with this much around here.” A timid smile curves his lips at his admission.
I smile back at him because clearly, he’s out of his element, and while the girls tell me I was almost left behind, I’m still grateful they would have rescued them, if nothing else.
