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The website loads. There’s no login screen anymore. Instead, there’s a message.This effort has always been in vain. There are no heroes. There are no fairytales. Join the fun at the meat market if you have a valid ticket. Those who know, know. Those without tickets will be executed, either upon arrival or, if inconvenient, at a later date.
Then there’s a smile emoji. I rub my forehead—themeat market. That doesn’t sound good, but I was right about the ticket and the magnetic strip. There’s an address at the bottom of the post, a butcher. I should call the cops and let them handle it, but what will I say? I could show them the website.
All of this would taketime. I need to go there now. I don’t care how tired I am. I don’t care how scared. I need to save Mom and Jamie. Quickly, I close the window. I can’t let myself wonder if I’m doing the right thing. It’s time to act.
As I stand, I call Joan from my cell phone. I know she won’t hear it. She wears earplugs at night. She never gets late calls. If she answers, I’ll hang up. She might try to stop me, but she doesn’t. It goes to voicemail. I tell her about the shootout at the fair. I tell her where I’m going. I tell her aboutThe Answer. I tell her everything. “If you don’t hear from me by morning, call the cops, Joan. Play them this message.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
Jamie
“I’m sorry,” Simone whispers from across the cell.
We’re in complete darkness. Her voice is small, laced with fear. We’ve been here for hours. They only let us out to use the one reeking toilet at the end of a grim hallway. There are cells all along the hallway. I can hear people moaning and retching. We’ve slipped into hell.
“You didn’t hurt me,” I tell her. “I was putting on a show. I’ve taken harder hits in the gym.”
“You were bleeding.”
She says it in the past tense. She can’t see if I still am, but I’m not. My head has cleared of their drugs. Even the hunger pangs can’t distract me. I need to be ready for whatever happens. Ready to fight. Ready to tear these bastards apart limb from goddamn limb.
“You cut my cheek—a glancing blow. Trust me. I’m fine.” I grit my teeth, wondering what Lena is doing, praying she’s safe. I’d kill to hold her.
“Why do you think they’re taking people out of their cells?” Simone asks quietly.
“No idea, but it’s not good.”
She pauses. We’ve hardly spoken since being thrown in here together. Mostly, she’s been sleeping or trying to, anyway. She must be exhausted because she falls asleep fast, but then she’ll wake with a scream. Or she’ll start praying under her breath, almost angrily.
“What you said… about Lena. Was that so that I’d do what that sicko wanted?”
I shake my head. She can’t see. That’s good. I shouldn’t give this away without Lena’s permission. The truth is, I might never get another chance to be honest.
“We haven’t,” I pause, “done that, but we’ve been intimate.”
“Since when?” Simone asks, her voice quiet, more curious than angry. Or maybe she’s just too tired.
“Since she called me and told me you were missing. Honestly, I was attracted to her before that. Back when I was helping you with the wallet.”
I hear her swallow. “Why didn’t you do anything?”
“I knew your story. Your husband. What you’d been through. I didn’t want to complicate your lives, and, well, look where we are. I bring problems. My life does, but I’m ready to leave this life behind for Lena.”
“It’s that serious?” Simone asks.
“For me, it is,” I say passionately. “It has been from the start.” I touch my temple and feel the small cut Simone made when she struck me. “There’s nothing more serious than us. I told Lena before I left. I want—need—her to be my woman and to have a family with her. She said she wanted it, too.”
Simone sniffles in the dark. “Maybe she was scared.”
“She meant it. I know she did.”
“If that’s true…” Simone gets choked up and then goes on determinedly. “Then I wish you’d stayed with her. I wish you’d left me. If you love her, then I wish you’d neverleft.”
“I couldn’t let them have you,” I say. “Lena needs her mother. Our children are going to need their grandmother.”
She lets the tears come. I sit with my knees to my chest, gripping my shins, full of tension and fight, but with nothing to aim it at. “I think I’ve gone a little crazy, Jamie,” she says after a pause. “That’s why I couldn’t face it when you said we’d never been in a relationship. I had to believe wehadbeen in one. I couldn’t go back. If I went back, I’d be the useless lump I’d been before, letting my daughter lead the way.”
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I don’t understand.”
