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“Doing good, Turner,” a petite black woman was encouraging from the end of the parallel bars. “Remember we just need to keep those muscles loose as they heal. Don’t overdo it.”
“I thought he was supposed to be relaxing his muscles to heal.” I couldn’t help the concern in the question as I stood nearer them.
The woman turned toward me for a moment before directing her attention back toward Evan. I obviously wasn’t appreciated here with my questions and had been about to apologize before she asked Evan if he was okay with me knowing his medical information. I hadn’t even thought about the whole doctor-patient confidentiality. The grumpy shuffling bear of a man gave a short nod and the woman turned back to me, a much more friendly expression on her face.
“The severity of Turner’s thigh contusions were an issue for us at first,” she explained. “As a well muscled and healthy man, those muscles were built enough to stop the steering column from fracturing his femur. However, those bruises are deep enough to make using them for things like walking a very painful task.”
“Following,” I said, wondering if she’d get to the point any time soon.
“We want him to heal but we don’t want those femur saving muscles to atrophy,” the physical therapist concluded, picking up my hint for her nut-shell the damn explanation.
“So here I am,” Evan grunted as he shuffled the last bit to the end of the parallel bars and nearly fell into the padded chair waiting for him. “Shuffling like an old man, because I have to keep most of my weight on my arms.”
“And you’re doing so good,” his PT said with a wry smile. I had a feeling she’d been dealing with his grumpiness for a while now.
“Oh fuck,” came a murmured voice from a few machines over breaking through our small group. “Has anyone told her yet?”
All three of us turned toward the speaker to see two men in workout gear staring at the television above them. I looked up, curious as to what had two macho men gossiping and felt my stomach drop at the two smiling faces on the screen. Monica and Bailey were taking up the entire screen in a selfie I’d seen on social media before. The headline under the picture had my head spinning.
Americans Abducted in Paris.
I didn’t remember taking a step back, but suddenly I was tripping over a weight bench and being righted immediately by the physical therapist. She was looking at me questioningly, but the dark looks from Evan and the two gossiping men were telling. I turned without a word and stumbled between machines and benches trying to escape.
I felt him before I saw him, but when my eyes met Decker’s I knew he’d come for me. There was a comfort in that I’d want to explore later, but right now I just wanted to know what the fuck was going on. His hand was on the small of my back again as he led me from the gym and to the elevator. Maybe this was another meeting in Jack’s office. Another addition to his morbidly named “murder board”.
I was staring blankly at the elevator doors, trying to figure out what had happened to Bailey and Monica, and trying to shake off the feeling of dread that told me it was my fault somehow. Logically they could have been taken simply because they were social media famous along with having influential families and trust funds that could arm a small country. I didn’t believe my own inner ramblings for a second.
When the door opened to the familiar hall leading to my temporary apartment instead of the portal to the future, I looked up at Decker with the silent question of why we were here. His face said nothing, but his eyes held a compassion that nearly gutted me on the spot. Silently, he ushered me forward and down the hall to the apartment we were sharing, even though we never seemed to occupy the space at the same time.
“Sit,” he quietly commanded as he left her in the living room to fish two water bottles from the fridge before taking a seat on the couch himself. I was still standing motionless in front of the couch, unsure how to command my limbs to move. I felt like I was getting ready to face a firing squad until Decker wrapped his strong fingers around my wrist and gently pulled me down next to him on the couch. He held out the bottle of water in offering and I jerked my head to the side once to reject the offer. With a knowing sigh, he set it on the coffee table in front of us and turned his attention to me.
“Just tell me.” I didn’t recognize the savage tone of my own voice. It was hardly above a whisper, but it seemed to echo off the walls around us.
“Two days ago, Bailey Voss and Monica De Carlo vanished after leaving a club in Paris.” He ran a hand through his hair and looked into my eyes, studying me for something though I had no idea what. “Friends and family both reported it when neither woman responded to messages and calls, and the police jumped on it pretty quickly when they saw the lack of social media posts which are-”
“Not normal for them,” I finished sounding as hollow as I felt. “They live through their social media.” It was that simple fact that had the nagging voice in the back of my mind telling me they wouldn’t be found alive.
“Lake,” he said softly, breaking through my inner freakout. Decker lifted a hand to my face, brushing back the strands that refused to stay in my messy bun, then letting his thumb trace along the underside of my jaw. Funny how such a touch could heat me up in a normal situation, and still give me a sliver of peace now. “I know you want to take this on all by yourself and take all the blame, but this could have nothing to do with you at all. You hadn’t even seen them in a month.”
A month.
Had it really been that long since I’d even seen or spoken with the girls? In the past, that would have been an insane amount of time to go without speaking, but in this moment, everything felt like it had been a lifetime ago. A life before stalkers and assassins and car chases. A life where two women acted as gatekeeper to the one escape I needed, and I allowed them to do it. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt the pull to escape, even in the midst of wanting to be removed from the clusterfuck that was being hunted. Even knowing that someone wanted me dead, I hadn’t felt the need to pull back and escape from myself like I had before.
But even if I’d never intended on contacting the girls again, my heart broke for them. I wasn’t stupid enough to think they could still be alive. As if some cosmic joke had been waiting for that thought to deliver the punchline, Fitz came bursting through the front door, face serious.
“Deck, we got a body.”
__
DECKER
From the moment word came in about Bailey Voss and Monica De Carlo officially being abducted, I knew there was a connection. They had been the last two women photographed publicly with Lake, and honestly, they wouldn’t even ping on the radar of for profit kidnappers. They may have money, but they didn’t have pull, and neither did their families. Augustin Voss was a washed up producer, rumored to be one of the monsters from Hollywood horror stories. Casting couches were very much a thing, and his transgressions were notably the worst kept secret in the industry.
And then there was Eden De Carlo; while she may have been the Cindy Crawford and Anna Nicole of her time, she wasn’t anymore and spent most of her time spa hopping. The spas were rehab facilities and, again, everyone knew. The only reason these women would have been taken now was in connection with the one person in danger. Odd that Robert wasn’t the one in danger since he’d been first to receive those letters.
The moment Fitz had crashed into the room, out of breath and looking like he’d taken the stairs, I knew something big had happened. When he’d announced there was a body, I knew that whichever woman it was, Lake would never forgive herself. I felt her go rigid beside me, bracing herself for the downward spiral.
Not caring that we had an audience, I pulled her forward, up onto my lap and wrapped my arms around her to speak softly. “Listen to me,” I dipped my head to lock eyes with her, and saw the tears pooling. She was so much stronger than she gave herself credit for. “No matter what happens or who it is, you are still safe. Hold on a little longer while I go get answers. I’ll come back, explain what I know, and you can break down. But no matter what, you won’tbreak.”
