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I put my hand against her cheek, pushing her hair back from her face. Finally, she lifted her gaze to mine and really saw me for the first time.
She burst into tears. “Oh, Hayden, what have I done?”
I put my arms out to her and pulled her to me. She climbed into my lap like a small child and sobbed against my chest. My eyes prickled with tears for her pain, and I blinked them away. I didn’t cry—hadn’t cried since my mother had been killed—but I felt her anguish as though it was my own. I held her in my arms and rocked her, stroked her hair and soothed her
“It’ll be all right, Jolie. I’ll make this go away. I’ll fix it, I swear to you.”
“You can’t. You can’t undo what I’ve done.”
“I can, baby. I can. I’ll make everything right again, I promise.” It was the first time I’d used the endearment, and I was surprised it had come out of my mouth. I’d never called anyone baby before.
Her body relaxed a fraction against mine, and I held her tighter, pressing my lips to the top of her head.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened. The Taser had been fired and discarded, and from the fact they were in the bathroom rather than running for the exit, I assumed it was because Jolie was hiding from Loretta. Anger coiled inside me, both at Loretta and also myself, for sleeping peacefully while all of this was going on. Had Jolie called my name, begging for help? The thought wrenched my guts in two.
I should have seen the warning signs with Loretta. This was my fault as much as it was Jolie’s. Loretta had made enough noises about how much she hated Jolie, and I’d given her unrestricted access. I’d been stupid. Loretta had already betrayed me by hacking my computer. I should have known that she’d take her frustration and hatred out on Jolie.
Fuck.
Loretta didn’t have anyone in the outside world. That was what made her so perfect to bring onboard. She’d had nothing else to lose, and no reason to convince herself that getting revenge on her daughter’s murderer wasn’t a good idea. It also meant no one was going to miss her. No one had for the past eight months when she’d come to live here, and no one was going to miss her now.
I closed my eyes, containing my sorrow. I would be the same way when I was dead. No one would miss me. No one would care I was gone. No one would even notice.
Except for Jolie. Jolie would notice. She may even miss me in her own twisted way.
I needed to get her out of this room and away from the body.
I scooped my hands under her and rose to my feet. Her weight felt like nothing, and her arms slipped around my neck as I cradled her to my chest. She shook and trembled, and my shirt grew damp with her tears. A rush of protectiveness swept through me, and I held her closer.
Turning away from Loretta’s body, I carried Jolie out of the bathroom and toward the elevator. I maneuvered her in my arms to get hold of the keycard and open the doors. With relief, I stepped inside, and moments later we were moving up.
It felt strange to step back out into the main part of the house. Sunlight streamed through the windows, and I realized I’d completely forgotten it was even daylight. It was as though I’d stepped into another dimension the moment I’d gone into that room—a place where there was only death and darkness. To be back up here in the early morning light felt foreign.
Jolie showed no sign that she understood that I’d brought her out of the room. She continued to cry silently, her face buried against my chest.
I carried her into the living room—a space I rarely used—and set her down on the couch. She curled up on her side but lay awkwardly, her handcuffed hands held away from her body. The sight troubled me. Were her hands hurting her? Loretta had clearly used the Taser on her—perhaps even more than once. Maybe the electric shock had caused some kind of nerve damage?
Crouching beside her, I placed my hand on her shoulder. She flinched at my touch.
“Why are you holding your arms like that, Jolie?” I deliberately kept my voice soft, seeing that she was already traumatized. “Are you hurt?”
She sniffed and shook her head, then lifted her gaze to mine. “It’s the handcuffs,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “They’re what I used to—” She broke off with a choked sob.
“You used them to do what?” I said, not understanding, but then it dawned on me. I remembered the red marks around Loretta’s throat. Jolie must have used the chain joining the handcuffs to strangle Loretta. “Ah, shit.”
I stared down at the metal cuffs. No wonder she didn’t want them near her body. It must be like having the murder weapon attached to her.
She held her hands out to me. “Please, Hayden. They’re torturing me. Every time I catch sight of them, all I can see is how I held them around her throat.”
I hesitated before making a decision, unsure if this would turn out to be another one of her tricks, and she’d use my kindness to escape. But then I remembered how I’d found her, still sitting beside the body. She could have taken Loretta’s keycard and made a run for it again. I wasn’t sure why she hadn’t. Perhaps she’d simply been in too much shock to think about it, or maybe she hadn’t because she’d known she needed me.
“Wait here.”
The key to the handcuffs was in my office.
I rose to my feet, but her hand snatched out and wrapped around my wrist. “No, Hayden. Please don’t leave me.”
“I have to. I won’t be long. I need to get the key for the cuffs, okay?”
