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He appeared concerned as he glanced at the video feed on his phone. Before Dylan could even answer his question, Terry’s eyes widened, fear turning them just as white as his skin when the blood drained from his face. A warmth fell over Dylan’s entire body, knowing something was going south and really fast. She yanked the phone from Terry’s hand and saw the plague doctor enter the room with the barbed sword phallus attached to her groin and walking toward Lucy, bound by the stockade.
“No. No. No. No!” Dylan repeated as her gripped hand trembled. And then it happened. The sword disappeared inside her best friend.
“Nooooooo!” Dylan dropped the phone, shattering the case and screen, then collapsed to the ground.
Epilogue
“Last one.” Dylan deposited a box on a stack near the front door, part of the cardboard labyrinth in the living room. When Ari said nothing, she sensed dread. They were both learning to recognize and manage the lasting post-traumatic stress caused by Lady Katrina and Maxi Delacroix. “Babe, where are you?”
She weaved her way through their new house and headed down the hallway. A smile grew on her face as she approached the last door on the right, hearing Ari’s sweet voice singing. She nudged the door open and peeked inside.
Her heart swelled at the sight of Ari, headphones on, singing and dancing while unpacking a box of clothes. Not one to waste an opportunity to witness Ari’s happiness, Dylan leaned against the doorframe and took in the wonder of the woman she loved.
After six months of arduous work, things looked bright for the two of them. After Ari’s rescue, her injuries required a hospital stay. Followed by months of therapy just for her to feel safe again. They chose a BDSM-aware therapist, and through couples sessions, they learned techniques to approach intimate play conducive to Ari’s recovery. Dylan vowed to be by her side every step of the way, and she had. Without a doubt, she’d always be there for Ari.
The cuts and bruises healed and a few physical scars remained. It was the mental scarring that hadn’t healed, rightfully so. Moments where Ari sang and danced were rare. It usually accompanied bouts of haunting memories that paralyzed her to the point she tensed her muscles so hard it required massage to release the spasticity. Dylan remained committed to doing just that.
Ari wasn’t the only one who felt the lingering effects of the kidnapping. Dylan’s possessiveness was on constant alert, not wanting Ari out of her sight. Losing Lucy contributed to her need to protect Ari. She could only handle one major loss in her life. Her priority was to keep Ari safe, even if it meant taking a life.
With a broad smile, Dylan spoke loud enough for Ari to hear, “Hey, beautiful! What are you doing?”
Startled, Ari pressed her hand to her chest. Her mouth momentarily hung open in fright before transforming into a wide, ear-to-ear grin. “Dylan! You shit. How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough.” Dylan crossed the room and took Ari into her arms. This was the only place she wanted to be. It took a while to get there, but they had purchased a small townhome close to Billie, who shared the same protectiveness as Dylan. While Billie had been a great friend to them, it still hurt whenever she visited because Dylan had lost her best friend, and Ari still had hers.
“Did you speak to Detective Brody?” Ari asked. Again.
The same as she had every day since her rescue. And each time, Dylan’s answer remained the same, “I did. They still haven’t found Lucy or Corina.”
The fact of the matter was that Dylan and Detective Brody had not spoken to each other. After months of constant nagging, he flat out told Dylan to stop calling. One, it wasn’t her place. Two, they were no closer to locating Corina, also known as Lady Katrina, than they were on that horrific night.
The police had searched every inch of The Silo, and they couldn’t find a trace of Lucy. No DNA. No clothes. The video feed to the website had ceased the moment Lady Katrina slammed a deadly dildo into Lucy’s backside. At first, the police officers refused to even list Lucy as missing since there wasn’t any evidence. So Ida filed an official report that added Lucy’s name to the missing persons list.
Corina Cove was nowhere to be found, either. The difference was that she wasn’t on a list of missing people. In fact, she wasn’t even on the FBI’s Most Wanted list. She was like a chameleon, adapting and blending into her surroundings. She had more aliases than Dylan had pairs of Ari’s panties.
“The case is still open, though. Right?”
“For now. To be honest, I’m not sure how much longer.” Dylan stepped back and moved toward the window. Ari followed behind, snaked her arms around her waist, and kissed her back. Dylan held Ari’s arms tight to herself.
It frustrated her that the police had nothing new. She wanted closure. She needed closure. She witnessed Lucy’s death with her own eyes, yet no one would declare her dead. While the families of Corina’s previous victims had closure, Dylan didn’t get that with Lucy.
“What do Cooper and Ida think?” Ari threaded her fingers through Dylan’s hair.
“They both refuse to believe Lucy is gone. I don’t see how they can hold on to hope like that. I know what I saw.”
“I saw it too. But they have a point. Until she’s found, there will always be a doubt.”
Dylan twisted around to face Ari, ready to blow because Ari hadn’t seen it. When she tore the phone away from Terry, she was the only person watching. As soon as Ari’s hands caressed her face, the tension dissolved. There wasn’t a need to bark at the unfairness of the situation with Ari.
“I know. I just have to move on, babe. Body, or no body, Corina took her from us, and I can’t unsee her murder.”
“Some people hold on to hope while others accept. We all deal with things our own way.”
“And I beat myself up over this entire situation. I know Ida doesn’t blame me, but part of me feels like she should.”
Ari stroked Dylan’s cheek again as she gazed into her eyes. “Someone once told me, ‘Life is a matter of choices, and every choice you make makes you.’ This is all part of the experience of life.”
“She didn’t choose that. Lucy did not choose death. I cho—” Dylan stopped herself. The internal monologue played on saying that she chose love over friendship. She chose hope over a loyal friend. Hope that the relationship with Ari was, in fact, real.
