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“Understandable,” he says, looking solemnly at the girls. “I’ll start with the unconscious one”—he looks over his spectacles to me, and I feel myself turning a fetching shade of embarrassed—“before I check the others over. I think perhaps I should like you girls to assist. As Beau said, they’ll be nervous and, well, I’m a man, if a little decrepit.”
“I’ll send Goldie in,” Beau assures him. “We need to raid Rose’s closet.” Linking arms with me, she walks us on. “The unconscious one?” she whispers in disbelief.
I can only shake my head at myself.
“Oh, Beau,” Doc calls.
“Will you get Goldie?” She unhooks her arm and goes to Doc, not giving me a chance to answer.
I frown my way to the kitchen and tell rather than ask Goldie to go to the TV room, and she does without question. By the time I’m back at the stairs, Beau’s back on my arm. “Okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, fine, I was taking Brad’s pulse in the car. Doc needed the numbers.”
“Oh,” I murmur. Something else she’s useful for.
“Did you notice the small hole in the corner of Pearl’s lip?” she asks.
“Old piercing,” I say. “They would have removed it.” I flinch. “To make her—” Fuck, I can’t believe I’m saying this. “More universal.” No piercings, no tattoos, no deformities.
“Are you okay with this?” Beau asks, pushing her way into our room.
I nod, taking a deep breath, having a stern word with myself. Those girls have been rescued before they’ve endured the same unimaginable level of hell that I did. Rescued before they were sold. That’s a blessing, although none of them could possibly think that in this moment. And suddenly, I feel energized. Full of purpose. They can have a life.
“I want everything you haven’t worn in six months,” Beau declares.
“Can’t we say everything Iwon’twear for the next six months, because that’ll be easier?”
She laughs and swings open the doors of my closet. And exhales her exasperation.
Twenty minutes later, Beau has arms full of clothes that don’t fit me, and I can’t even be miserable about it. “We should bring them up to change,” she says, kicking material away at her feet, removing the tripping hazard as she walks to the bed and dumps the clothes there. “Maybe shower.”
I nod.
“Which rooms?”
“Umm...” This is a twenty-bedroom mansion, and I can’t be sure there are any spare rooms.
“Rose?”
“Wait,” I say, tapping the side of my head, mentally figuring out who’s in what room and which room is free, if at all there is one. “There’s one down the hall, but Brad’s in there. Danny’s father’s room,” I say quietly. “It’s the only other one I know is definitely vacant.” And it’s totally out of the question. Damn it, if Esther was here, she’d know immediately.
Beau sighs. “You check on Brad. There must be anothersomewhere. I’ll go investigate.” We leave together and while Beau starts working her way up and down the corridor, I go to Brad, knocking before entering. The bag of blood is what I see first, half empty, and then Fury sitting guard by the bed.
“I’m awake,” Brad grunts, opening one eye. “Where’s Danny and James?”
“They’re not back yet.”
He shifts on the bed, hissing, before he settles exactly where he was. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” And suddenly I’m worried. I look at Fury, who shrugs, looking at Brad, as if he might answer his own question. “Why aren’t they back yet?” I ask.
Brad squints, straining to think. “I don’t fucking know. All I can see is red.”
Blood. What happened after Beau left the yard with Brad? I’m out of the room like a rocket, flying down the stairs. I rush into the kitchen and find Ringo staring at my pasta bake dubiously with Otto and Len.
“ Danny and James. Where are they?” I demand, making them all look at each other. But no answer.
I growl my frustration and go to my purse on the stool, rummaging through and finding my cell. I see a few missed calls from Esther but ignore them in favor of calling Danny. He doesn’t answer. Neither does James, not the first time I try, or the second or third. “God damn them!” I yell, just as my phone rings in my hand. My heart lunges. And drops when I see Esther calling me, not Danny or James. I place a hand on my forehead, closing my eyes and breathing easy, trying to sound as calm as possible. “Hey,”
