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“Do you mind if I take a picture of it?” I ask and she nods.
Jack pulls out his phone as well. “At what point did they brand you?”
“Early on. It’s done without any anesthetic. You couldn’t take as much as an aspirin. The pain is supposed to make you ascend higher or some crap like that. All I know is, it hurt like hell.”
“When did you leave?” I ask as she covers up again, this time pulling her teddy all the way up over her shoulders.
She takes a deep breath. “Last spring. And trust me, they don’t make it easy. I’ve seen people ask questions, ask to leave—and soon thereafter, those same people up and vanished. No goodbye or anything. Malcolm and Patty—they’re the ringleaders—they assured us that those people left of their own volition. But I don’t think they did. I was getting a really dark vibe. Like my life might be over if I asked to leave. So I pretended I was all gung-ho, and the next time I went to a conference in Denver I said I was headed to the bathroom. That was the last they ever saw of me. I guess they didn’t think I was a flight risk. Anyway, that’s all I know.”
I nod to Jack. “Give her your card.”
He looks momentarily perplexed before doing just that. I shove a wad of twenties into her hand and we thank her before heading for the door.
“Why didn’t you give her your card?” Jack asks as we settle into his truck.
“Because I make a darn good wing woman,” I say, glancing at my face in the side mirror. A face that’s been prone to lying as of late.
“So what now?” he asks as we head onto the main road, the glow of the moonlight outlining the evergreens as they stretch to the sky.
“I’ll talk to Sloan,” I say. “It just so happens she’s the woman looking to recruit me.”
“I’m going with you.”
“Not if you want the case to progress.”
He grips the wheel and his knuckles press white because he knows I’m right.
I glance up at the moon and wonder if I’m right about my sister and her whereabouts, too.
Paradise, here I come.
19
Patricia Flanagan
Ahard groan comes from me as I’m jostled over the arms of some madman before he lands me hard on my back. He pulls the hood off my face, then the tape from my lips, and I suck in a breath as far as my broken body will allow.
Air.
I can breathe again.
It’s dark in here, save for a red glow near the door where another shadowed figure stands. The sound of a metal grate closing pings through the air and then the slam of a door, and just like that, it’s dark as pitch.
“Hello?” The faint sound of another girl comes through the wall and I lift my head.
“Kim?” Her name comes out more of a moan than anything discernable, but there’s a cry on the other end.
“Trish, is that you?”
“Yes,” I groan once again as my entire body aches trying to discern the direction from which her voice is coming. It’s so dark I’m beginning to feel disembodied. I’d wonder if I were dead, but I’m in too much pain to contest reality. “Kim, where are you?” I strain my voice and bring my fingers to my lips, only to feel moisture. My front teeth feel loose and I’m afraid if I touch them they’ll fall right out. My ribs feel broken. My back is battered, and the insides of my thighs feel as if they’ve been squeezed to a pulp.
Let’s just say Archer wasn’t in the mood for an unwilling victim. Although when I settled down enough for him to have his way, it only seemed to make him angrier. It’s as if he wanted the fight, as if he needed it. And he got just that.
“Trish, what happened?” Kim calls out, her voice faint but clear. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“Yes, but I hurt him back,” I pant as I slide to my left until I hit a cold wall. I press my face against the coolness and lean my arm against it as if I were hugging Kim herself. “I bit him. I got him real good. My teeth, I might lose them. But let’s just say, he ran off for help holding his junk in pieces.”
A howl of a laugh emits, and if I’m not mistaken, there were two voices joining in the chorus.
