I watch as her mouth pulls to the side, but doesn’t fall open.
“Did you know you could do this?” I ask her, straightening.
She fiddles with her sheet. “See, I didn’t know what the tea was for. When my cellmate—a clairvoyant—tapped into me, we were able to unlock my magic-muting cuffs. I stopped drinking the tea because it made me think of you, and I missed you so horribly.”
I close my eyes to keep from losing my cool. “You are so lucky that I had the doctor give you a shot of the stuff while you were out. I don’t even want to think about what your gift could do in a crowded place like this.” I’m so frustrated, I can barely look at her. “You’ve truly been walking around at full strength?”
“I mean, I guess. I didn’t know what the tea was for! It doesn’t matter anyway; everyone wears the magic-muting cuffs. I didn’t affect anyone, except for my cellmates.”
“How long exactly were you without the tea?”
She shrugs. “I dunno. Time is sort of relative in the pen. Ask Nurse Jen.” She turns her chin to glance at her heart monitor. “Did they ever figure out why she missed work? Where was she?”
“I couldn’t tell you. They haven’t heard from her since she took her sick days.”
Her chin whips in my direction. “Are you serious? Sloan, is no one out looking for her?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
She reaches for me, but the tubes keep her from making contact, so I stand, making sure I’m always within reach. I hate that she’s been without me for so long.
“Sloan, you have to find her. Nurse Kyle did something to her; I’m sure of it! He wanted her home so he could take her place and go after me.”
I badly want to pawn this job off on anyone else, but I know that look. It’s the same desperation with which she begged to take Everly Ann home. She has a way of taking care of the people she loves at all costs, and there’s no mistaking it: she loves Nurse Jen.
“Shite. Fine. I’ll track down her address and see if she’s alright. You realize she’s probably just taken a few personal days and didn’t call her boss, right? What’s her last name?”
“I don’t know! First name, Nurse, last name, Jen?”
I tilt my head at her in response, a wry smile playing on my lips.
“Oh, Sloan. You have to find her. I’m freaking out.”
“I will.” When the screen of her heart monitor shows her pulse jumping angrily, I hold up my hands. “Are there any guards you trust in the pen?”
Zero hesitation plays on her features. “Officer Johnson! He’s the one who smuggled the folder of whatever that was in my uniform. He wants things to change. We can trust him.”
“That wasn’t from you? You didn’t read through that folder?”
“Not a word. He wanted to make sure the family got ahold of it, because he knew we could do something to change it all. He wants to tear Prigham’s down just as much as we do.”
I sit back down. “No. I’m not leaving you to go check on your friend, who’s probably fine.”
I also don’t want to show up at her doorstep, looking like a stalker, especially after the way I couldn’t stop checking her out when I dropped off the tea for Arly. I purposefully didn’t look into her, even to learn her last name, because it’s creepy to do a background check on someone I’m that attracted to.
“She’s not fine! Hurry, Sloan! Kyle’s a maniac! Who knows what he’d do to her if she stood up to him.”
I hate that I stand as I pull out my phone, texting to my backup that I need him to watch Arly for me while I step out. “Jonah is on his way up to sit with you.”
Her nose crinkles. “He smells like pickles and only likes to talk about baseball.”
“Hey, apparently I have to go check on Jen No-Last-Name. You brought his pickle stench upon yourself.”
I kiss her cheek and start making my calls, tracking down this Officer Johnson to see if he’s heard from Jen.
“Thank you, Sloan. I love you, you know.”
“Remember you said that. Jonah’s guarding your father, who’s coming up with him. It’s your lucky day.”
Her face pales. “I don’t want to see him!”
“See you soon, with hopefully very boring news. Enjoy the family reunion.”
Yes, I’m a jerk, but in fairness, I don’t care. Conan should see his daughter all hooked up to machines, and she should have the opportunity to speak her mind to the man who abandoned her.
“You have a right to your voice, Arly. Don’t chicken out now.”
I wait until Jonah and Conan enter her room, and then leave by way of the nurse’s station. I make sure they know she’s awake, and to send in more water and a doctor.
I hate every step that takes me away from my little girl, but if this is what she needs, then I know I can’t rest until I track down Nurse Jen.
28
Still, I Stay
Sloan
There’s no answer at the front door when I knock, hoping the address is correct. “Jennifer Thomas?”
No answer.
“Jen! You in there?” Johnson’s by my side, which wasn’t exactly part of the plan, but it is what it is. I usually don’t work with anyone outside the family, but Jennifer is his people, and this is looking more and more like it’s going to be a rescue mission, so I’m not too put out that I’ve got someone tagging along.
Boxy, teal car in the driveway. Mail popping through the top of the mailbox.
I hate it when I’m wrong. Now I’m kicking myself because Arly was right. I should’ve sent someone over the second her instincts leaned toward something being off.
“Is this the part where you kick the door open?” Johnson asks.
“Kicking open a door is artless. I’m an old-timer at heart, so we’re picking the lock today.” Though he’s the one with gray brushed through his black hair, I’m the one who stifles a grunt as I kneel in front of the doorknob.
I’m a little embarrassed when the pick slips in my fingers. The whole thing takes me half a minute longer than usual, but Johnson doesn’t bother me about it. Maybe I don’t mind working with him, even if his idea of street clothes is a colorful tropical shirt and old jeans.
The door finally pops open, so I let us inside. My gun comes out, just in case, and Johnson’s got his taser. Signs of a scuffle draw my eye: two knocked-over chairs, papers strewn on the floor, and damage to the drywall.
“We play poker at her table there once a month. Her, me and a few guys from work.” Johnson runs his hand over his forehead, regret creasing the corners of his eyes. “If anything happened to her and I didn’t get here in time?”
The living room is much the same, with a lamp broken and a drink spilled on the coffee table. Spilled and dried.
A gray cat and a black one, both as long as a loaf of bread, meow like little alarms, leading me toward what I hope is nothing too gruesome. I’m not a fan of animals, especially when it comes to crime scenes. I’ve seen too many pets eat their owner’s faces when left unattended with a dead body for too long.
“Jen?” Johnson calls, taking cautious steps.
From what I gathered from the police report, Kyle wasn’t working with an accomplice, so I’m not expecting anyone but the nurse I spoke to when Arly first was booked.
I’m hoping we don’t find that curvy beauty in a state of disrepair.
The cats have torn up the carpet in the hallway, trying to get to her. I shuffle Johnson behind me as I reach for the bedroom door.
Call me a softy, but the sight of a woman tied up does things to my heart. When I open the door the cats are pawing at, my stomach tightens at the scene.
Jennifer’s lips are cracked around a gag, and she’s on the floor, tied to her bed with too much rope and a sloppy duct tape job. Bastard even tied a bandana around her eyes, so she’s been blind for too many days.
Urine hits my nose, and more compassion flares.
“Jen! Oh, man. I’m here.” Johnson fumbles forward, his legs r
ubbery.
I think back to my Arly when I found her in the trunk. They’d left her there for days, the lowlifes. She was terrified and starved. I wonder how long Jennifer’s been tied up like this.
Jennifer’s throat is raw as she screams into the gag, no doubt thinking Kyle is back. Her black t-shirt is disheveled and her colored red hair is matted with blood to one side of her face.
“Shite.” I holster my gun and dart to her other side. “It’s Sloan, Jennifer. I’m Arly’s guard. She sent me to find you. I’m here with Officer Johnson, from Prigham’s.”
Her screams turn to muffled panting, mingled with whines for me to help her. Johnson unties the blindfold, and I cup my hands over her forehead to block out a little of the natural light so she’s not entirely disoriented. I don’t know how long she’s been in this position, but judging by the dried and caked blood around the ropes on her wrists, a few days, at least.
The gag comes out next, and while I want to get her some water, untying her first is a better idea. “You have a right to your voice. You have a right to your voice,” I repeat over and over under my breath. I know the truth I’ve told Arly since she was a little girl doesn’t mean much when a person has gagged her, literally taking away her words, but I can’t think of anything else to counteract this horror.
This woman used her voice to forge a friendship with my wee bunny, and Kyle took her words away.
“I can’t get these knots undone!” Johnson panics.
“I got it.” I pull my dagger out so I can cut the bindings on her wrists, making sure I catch her flinching gaze to assure her that I’m a safe person.
Johnson wraps his arms around her shoulders awkwardly, as if he’s never hugged a woman in his life, but he’d like to learn how.
“Kyle,” she rasps. “He’s going to come back for me! We have to get out of here!”
I flash her a smile and tap the handle of my gun. “I almost wish he could.” I go back to sawing, setting one wrist free. “But Kyle’s been caught. He’s in jail, with no next of kin to serve his time for him. Pity.”
When I finally saw through the last bit of rope, she collapses forward in Johnson’s grip.
My hand goes to her back. “How did this happen?”
“Kyle came over to borrow something for his classes. He’s an intern the college sent over. He said he was ready to start treating the inmates, but I said he wasn’t, and then he attacked me. I don’t understand! An internship is spelled out that they’re to observe and assist me. No one’s allowed to treat an inmate until they’ve done their hours and graduated.”
Her explanation is cut off by her coughing fit.
“Johnson, why don’t you get her a glass of water. And while you’re out there, call the police. Tell them we need an ambulance.”
Jennifer shakes her head. “Just the police. I don’t need someone to treat me. It’s dehydration, which I can fix from here.”
Though I know I’m being overbearing, I’ve long since given up caring about that personality flaw. This woman is an extension of Arly, so she’ll be looked after without any qualifiers. “I’m afraid I insist. You’re important to my Arly, so you get the royal treatment. You’ll receive the best escort straight to the hospital. Lucky you.”
She sags, and my arms go around her. Instead of holding her as if I’m gripping a surfboard, like Johnson was, my arms curve around her frame tenderly.
I shouldn’t be doing this. My attraction for her swells, which is entirely inappropriate, given her current predicament.
My voice is embarrassingly husky when I speak to her. “Can I get you onto the bed?”
“I want to use the restroom. I can’t… I don’t even know if I can stand.”
“I can help you with that.” It’s no chore to lift her, dead as her limbs are. Carrying her to the bathroom makes me wonder if anyone’s looking after Arly as they should be in my absence. I need to get back to the hospital, but there’s no way I’m leaving Jennifer before she’s back on her feet. Arly would kill me.
When I sit Jennifer down on the toilet lid, my arms make quick work of massaging life back into her shoulders and tattooed biceps. There’s real strength to her that not even Kyle could drain away.
I remember loathing the times my strength was sapped from me any time I was bested like this.
But I’m used to this life. Jennifer is not. She’s an innocent bystander, caught up in the family’s mess because she dared love too well, dared do her job without prejudice.
My massage turns from a necessity to an act of gratitude.
“Thank you,” she breathes. “Everything is stiff.”
That she has the grace to thank me is beyond my understanding.
“Thank you,” I counter. “You wouldn’t have been in this position if you weren’t so good to Arly. Your kindness made you a target.” I probably shouldn’t be warning her, but it’s important to me that she knows we’re partly to blame. I have a sore spot when it comes to women being tied up.
Jennifer’s steadiness amazes me. She’s not sobbing, not ranting. She’s shaking, but keeping herself lucid. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s a good reason to go down, if you ask me. Those kids deserve better than the lot they were handed, starting with proper medical care.”
Bollocks. She’s beautiful and selfless—a deadly combination that can take down the most stoic man.
My massage continues, and I’m grateful when she can move her arms a bit better. She exhales and closes her eyes as her forehead rests against my hip.
Is this intimate? I think it is. I’m not used to women leaning on me. Arly, sure, but she falls into the “little girl” category, no matter how old she gets. But this woman, ravaged as she’s been, leans on me as if I’m a safe place.
If only she knew the dastardly deeds my hands were responsible for committing. Maybe she wouldn’t lean on me like this if she knew. I wish I was the sort of bloke who deserved a strong, stunning woman’s trust, but I know I’m not. So I take a step back, but not before I run my fingers through her cherry hair.
That was a mistake.
I clear my throat, suddenly jumpy. “Shall I fetch you clean clothes while you wash up?”
She nods, her eyes rimmed in red. “Thank you.”
I all but bolt out of the bathroom, wondering what’s gotten into me that’s making my palms sweat.
I fish through her drawer, feeling like a pervert as I try to pick out underwear for her without looking too closely at the delicate fabrics and assortment of colors. Jeans, black t-shirt with stars printed in silver, black underwear, matching socks, and I’m knocking on the bathroom door like I’m scared of her knickers.
“Come in. I’m in the shower,” she warns, though the sound of the spray told me as much.
“Clean clothes for you. Anything else I can get you? The police are no doubt on their way.”
I don’t expect her to start up a conversation. She’s naked just behind the red shower curtain. “How did you know I was here? Kyle said he signed out all my vacation days, so no one would know I was missing until it was too late.”
“That’s almost exactly what happened. You can thank Arly for us showing up. My little girl had a bad feeling about you not being at work, so as soon as she came to, she sent me on a mission to find you.”
Jennifer’s voice carries, but it’s still froggy. “Came to?”
Bollocks. She doesn’t know a thing about the ulcer that’s been brewing in my stomach. “Kyle took the internship at Prigham’s to get near Arly. He’s been stalking her, trying to get back at the family by taking her down. I looked into his history, and he’s worked with the family loosely in the past. His… work ethic… wasn’t up to snuff, so he was let go.” That’s the most covert way I can tell her he was a terrible drug dealer.
“I don’t believe it.” Though, I can tell she does. She only wishes it wasn’t true.
“Kyle was too cowardly to go after the great Conan Valentine, so he targeted Conan’s daug
hter. When you were gone, he gave Arly some medicine that made her sick. Turns out it was asmenisk.” I pause for her gasp. “But she fought through the illness and she didn’t die. However, Kyle tried to finish the job with a second dose, and nearly succeeded. I owe Johnson a debt of gratitude for rescuing Arly, so whatever present you’re thinking of buying him for coming here to help rescue you, I’ll have to find a way to top it. Fair warning.”
I keep thinking she’s going to kick me out of her bathroom, but she doesn’t. I’m a perfect stranger, standing in her red bedecked bathroom, no less, but she doesn’t seem bothered by my presence. Red curtain, red rug, red towels, red toothbrush holder, red frame on the wall holding a picture of what looks like her and her mother.
Jennifer’s voice catches, even as it turns sharp. “That girl is getting eaten alive in that prison. She doesn’t belong there.”
“None of them do,” Johnson says as he stands in the doorway.
My nostrils flare as indignation rises in me. Johnson shouldn’t be near her bathroom when she’s in the shower. The woman deserves some privacy.
Of course, what I’m still doing in here, mere feet away from this naked woman, is beyond me.
“We’ll leave you to your shower,” I say by way of an apology.
“You’re not leaving the house, though, right?”
The worry that hits my ears tugs at my chest. “Of course not.” I mean, I really should be getting back to the hospital. Arly’s going to kill me for leaving her with her father for this long. “I’ll be in your kitchen, making you some tea and fixing you something to eat.”
I cringe as the words tumble out like a marriage proposal. What is the matter with me?
I can feel my ears heating as I stalk past Johnson and shut the bathroom door, making it clear that Jennifer should be given some privacy. I cannot recall the last time my ears did that.
Sins of the Mother: A Paranormal Prison Romance (Sinfully Sacrificed Book 2) Page 17
