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“That’s good. That’s helpful.” Needing to calm myself, I lazily stroke the smooth skin of her thigh with my open palm.
“Inside was dirty. There was a single bed and a restroom. The kitchen was always empty, so we didn’t really use it except to get water.”
“Do you remember the other girls’ names?”
“Lulu, Tara, and Deb—at least that’s what they told me.” She sighs. “I often wonder what happened to them.”
I try to hold back from asking leading questions. Catherine knows her limits. She’ll tell me what she needs when she’s able, and I find that I can’t push her. There are a few choice words, triggering questions that I could askto stress her boundaries. But I won’t. Not with her. Not with any other woman ever again.
“We were all heavy users,” she says. “All young.”
“But you were never restrained? Chained?”
“No. I only went out four or five times. All to parties. Reallyniceparties. I wasn’t present enough to remember all the details, but I do remember some things…”
“Like?”
“Expensive cars. Lines of them. Big houses. Unlimited booze and coke. Beautiful clothes—and people. I still dream about them sometimes,” she whispers. “But the details aren’t clear. It’s like watching a scene unfolding through a rain-washed window. Or a movie when you’re just on the edge of sleep. Everything is murky.”
“And the men who held you? They’d go with you to these parties?”
“Only one.”
“Did you ever hear a name?”
“No. But he’s easy to spot in a crowd. Huge. Square face.”
The Giant from the Mousetrap pops into my mind instantly. “Did he speak?”
“Barely at all. One worded commands, you know? Come, go, stop, stay. He came with us everywhere. The others just bought food and supplies.”
When Catherine cranes her head back to look at me, her eyes bright with the sheen of tears, I lean down and kiss her forehead, too rattled by everything she’s told me to seek more from her just then. “We can stop now.”
We both know this isn’t the end. How can it be? But it is more of a beginning than I ever thought possible.
“Do you know what the strangest thing is?”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Toni, Lizzie, and I just walked out of that party. I don’t know if he never saw us or just didn’t want to cause a scene, but…”
“He never came after you.”
“No.” When she meets my eye, I know what she’s going to say. “It’s always bothered me because they had my ID. They knew who I was.”
Chapter 20
Catherine
I am sitting inthe corner of a room, staring into a blackness that I imagine is hell. Voices filter to me, hollow whispers that echo through faint music. It is cold. I am trapped or…tangled. My arms are immobile, weighed down by my sides, near useless. My vision is coming in and out of focus, black and then a not-quite-black where shapes dance in front of my face.
Out of the darkness, cool hands touch my skin. In my panic, I try to slap them away, and they grow cruel, yanking me this way and that. Each jolt rattles my head, and, for a flickering moment, I see a woman crouched in front of me, her spiked hair and bitter expression reminding me of an angry pixie, come for vengeance.
I wake from a dream that I have never had before, my heart racing in my chest, my entire body filmed in a thin layer of sweat. When a hand grabs for me, I let out a hell-raising shriek and throw my fists out in a brutal, unplanned defense.
“Cat!” Big hands pin my arms at my side.
For a second, the fear rises. My entire body tenses against what some shrouded part of my mind knows will come next. My legs go rigid, refusing to open. My fists clench, preparing to retaliate. I buck against the restraints.
