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ChapterOne
SALLY
My body trembled from the pain and cold as I whimpered. I tried to look deeper into the dark and damp room but could barely see beyond the table I was strapped to. I had no idea how long I'd been trapped in the room, and I didn't even know where I was. I only knew that I had been taken after work.
"Someone, please help me…" My plea was barely over a whisper, and my throat was raw from all the screaming I had done for so long over the last however many days I had been trapped. I heard a noise and immediately clamped my teeth tight, but I couldn't stop the whimper that escaped at the thought of the man coming back.
I listened intently for any sound of his footsteps coming from overhead. That was the only way I knew I was probably underground because of the sound of footsteps coming from above whenever the man appeared. This time, the room was silent other than my ragged breathing and the echo of my blood slowly dripping down to soak into the concrete flooring.
I closed my eyes, and as I lay there trembling uncontrollably in jerks, I was tempted to beg every deity I had ever heard of for death. For an ending to this ongoing torture.
I bolted uprightin the chair, my heart beating out of control, my hair stuck to my forehead and neck. I slammed my heels down on the carpet with a distressed cry. Resting my face in my hands, I took several deep breaths of stale air and concentrated on the feeling of the clothes on my body, the movement of the air being stirred by the lazy fan.
I was safe and alive. I hadn't been a prisoner in that basement for over six months. Most of my injuries had healed, even if I was left with intense scarring all over my entire body. Only the worst of the cuts that had become infected during my time with the doctor had taken much longer to heal. And out of those, only a few spots still needed daily antibiotic cream and bandages.
I opened my eyes and took in the room. I was in a waiting room off the long hallway of the courthouse. I breathed in deep through my nose as my mind fought to accept that I was safe and not still chained to a makeshift operating table. I was safe, and I was sitting all alone while I waited for the next step in the process of the eventual conviction of Dr. Stein.
Dr. Stein was a well-respected doctor to Hollywood's richest and most famous. Those with hoards of cash would consult with him and pay hefty sums for a little nip, a little tuck. If you wanted a perfect nose, Dr. Stein would give you what you wanted. If you wished to have Angelina Jolie lips, that was exactly what you would get. Never too much, never too little. He was considered a magician with a scalpel, and his hands were pure magic. Except with me.
I had been his receptionist not long before my nightmare began. I had gone to Hollywood, just like so many others before me, and many more that would follow. So many others would go there, searching for their big break into the movie industry. I was a small-town girl from Kentucky with big dreams. In the few months I had been in Los Angeles, I had only managed to snag a role in a commercial. It was almost clichéd, really. I had made my start on the slow climb to the big screen by taking a part in a toothpaste commercial.
In order to pay my rent for a small apartment I shared with three other girls, I managed to land a receptionist position at the respected doctor's clinic. I had been ecstatic. The pay was fantastic and allowed me to continue my quest for a real acting role. I had no idea that I had caught the attention of a monster.
I listened to the foot traffic outside the door, waiting for someone from the District Attorney's office to let me know if Dr. Stein was going to await his trial behind bars or if he was going to get the house arrest that they had assured me was the most likely scenario. Sitting in the witness box to testify at the bond hearing had been one of the hardest things I had ever done. Facing the man who had systematically tortured me for months was almost as cruel as the actual torture had been. But what made it so much worse was having to sit there to be ogled by spectators.
My scars were horrific. Why the man with the magic hands had decided to experiment on me was unexplainable. But he had. From my head to my feet, I had long scars that he had carefully sutured to maintain as much scarring as possible. For a man who could create miracles with his scalpel, he was equally capable of creating nightmares.
That's all he had left behind. Long gone was the beauty that had driven me to become an actress. My pale peaches and cream skin now had a network of thin pink lines over it, the dots from the sutures clearly visible. He hadn't even been kind enough to ensure that the cuts healed as invisibly as he did with his clients. I was his patchwork doll. It was the name he had called me from the moment I woke up in the basement of his Malibu mansion.
Footsteps sounded from outside the door, and instead of fading, they came closer. I sat up straighter and did my best to brush the drying sweat from my face, pushing my dark red hair back from where it had stuck during my little unexpected nap. I looked up expectantly as the doorknob turned, and the Assistant DA walked in carrying her briefcase. One look at the grimace on her face told me I wouldn't like whatever she had to say.
She stepped into the small room and closed the door softly behind her, taking an extra long second before she finally turned around to face me with an apologetic look on her face. I shook my head, dread already filling my stomach.
"I'm sorry, Sally."
"No." I gripped the handles of the chair until my knuckles turned white and my fingers began to ache. All I could concentrate on, though, was the words that were coming out of her mouth.
"As a well respected Doctor with no priors of any kind, the judge felt that he wasn't a flight risk." There was anger in her voice, and it was clearly written on her face that she didn't agree with the ruling for the doctor's bond. "He is released on his own recognizance with a bond of one million dollars."
"No house arrest?" My voice was small, weak, and disbelieving.
"No, I'm sorry, Sally."
I squeezed my eyes shut. She could repeat how sorry she was over and over, but it still wasn't going to keep me safe. "He swore that he would get me back," I whispered. "He said I was his. He promised me so many times that I would always be his and that if I ever got away from him, he would get me back. And he would make me pay."
She sat down in the chair next to me and laid her hand over my arm. I immediately flinched from the contact. She quickly withdrew her hand and clenched it into a fist, setting it into her lap. "The judge doesn't think that Dr. Stein is a threat to you since he has been arrested. You have been issued an order of protection, but that's it." Her voice trailed off as I swung my head around to face her, incredulity marking my features.
"An order of protection? A piece of paper to stop him from doing what he promised?" I waved a hand, indicating all of me. "This meant nothing to the judge? Was he paid off?"
The tightness around the ADA's mouth gave me all the answers I needed. I nodded and turned to stare back at the wall. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her hover her hand in the air as if she wanted to comfort me again, but she knew already from our many meetings that I didn't like being touched. Not anymore.
"I—shit," she let out a long sigh before dropping her hand. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me, okay?"
"When is the trial set to begin?" It was the only thing I needed to hear at the moment. How long did I have to disappear?
She stood and picked up her briefcase that she had set on the floor by her feet. "Six months."
I closed my eyes and breathed, taking air in and out of my lungs slowly, methodically. Too long. It was too long. If the judge had been somehow paid off to keep Dr. Stein out of jail without an ankle monitor, what were the chances of him actually being found guilty and sentenced to prison?
