by Ann, Bry
I nod.
“Thank you, Kyle. Agreed.”
Brad stands and it’s then I notice how tired he looks. Dead on his feet, but his head is held high, his suit perfect with nothing out of place. That’s Agent Bradley Ryan for you.
“Now, let me get into what I know. This information comes from Nix, Sage, and Charles, Sage’s father. Sage Briar-Rose was taken by her boyfriend, a man by the name of Sty. They were involved for years before she was kidnapped. Years. I believe that’s how this group is luring young women in; they groom them first, possibly for years. Sage was kidnapped, but only after Sty asked her to live with him. That’s when I believe he would have started manipulating her into having sex with men for money and so on. Sage said no, so he took her.”
Brad clears his throat.
“There were two women with her during her time there, Pamela and Essie Taylor, who went by Tammy during that time. We still aren’t sure how.”
Brad glances at me. My heart lurches.
“I promised her I’d talk about them as if they were here, since both are not, physically or mentally.”
Every single man in that room hangs their head a bit at that. That’s true… and tragic.
“Sage said Tammy—Essie Taylor—was…” Brad bristles a bit, struggling with his emotions. “Strong willed, a little crass and hard, but the momma bear of that group. She, in her own way, protected them.”
I shuffle my feet, seeing her beautiful, haunted face staring lifelessly at the ceiling.
“Pamela lost her life there. Sage said of all the people she’s ever met, Pamela was the strongest. She never lost hope, not once. Never stopped fighting. Never lost her gentle heart.”
Brad flashes a picture of the icy blue-eyed, white blonde-haired woman we’ve now identified as Pamela Reynolds.
“Here’s to her.”
We all hang our heads, close our eyes, and think solely of the woman who inspired so greatly, even if it was just one person.
I silently pray for her soul as another part of me can’t help but wonder: who was Pamela to Essie?
Chapter Thirteen
Essie
All I see are elephants. My mind spins with them. Bodies. Trunks. Tusks. Grey. Grey. Grey. I eat at some point. I don’t remember how I got the food, but something in my mind screams at me to stuff the mush in my mouth.
The door cracks open and I'm thrust from my animal-infested wonderland into a warm, stuffy room with four words.
“Miss me, Essie Taylor?”
Rage like I’ve never felt before builds in my chest. Who is this man to steal me from the one place I find peace?
“You got your feeding tube out.”
There’s a weird note to his voice that draws my attention to him. It’s then I notice how tired he looks. He’s, of course, his usual cocky, stupid self, but he’s got dark circles under his eyes, his suit is slightly wrinkled, and his usually perfect, curly(ish) brown hair is sloppy, like he didn’t bother with it at all this morning.
He cocks his head as he takes a seat. I only realize I haven’t responded when he smiles a little, but of course, always acting like some kind of mythical gentleman, he lets it slide.
“It’s nice being able to see your beautiful face.”
“Why are you tired?”
He jolts a little at my harsh tone, but recovers quickly. God, he annoys the fuck out of me. Let me go back to my land of nothing. I don’t care that I'm fucked up. I love the damage. It’s the greatest gift I’ve ever been given in this Godforsaken life.
“You worried about me, angel?”
He gives me a lopsided smile that I feel somewhere that should be numb. I scowl.
“No, you just look like a fucking mess.”
“Always the charmer, Miss Taylor.”
He smirks, clearly more amused than offended.
“You make me want to gouge out my eyeballs.”
“Wow!” He laughs and winces, clearly uncomfortable. “That’s not my goal, babe. Not even close.”
“What is your goal? Why are you here? What the fuck do you want with me?!”
I sink back into the mattress and stare at the ceiling, waiting for his true colors to show. Waiting for the questions, the probing, the tinkering in my already broken mind. It doesn’t come.
“I just want to make you smile, Essie.”
I freeze. My whole entire body stiffens on the mattress. Landon doesn’t let up. He places his elbows on the mattress by my knees and watches me.
“You didn’t expect that, did you? I told you from day one, I'm an FBI agent, but I'm also a man. I'm not an asshole.”
“Everyone’s an asshole to some degree,” I whisper.
“I suppose that’s true, but that also means everyone is good to some degree.”
“That’s untrue,” I hiss, remembering things that make my mind start to drift away.
“You’re right. I agree,” he murmurs. There’s a long pause, then… “How do you know Pamela?”
Pamela, no! My mind splinters, the sirens blare, and I crash. I don’t even go to the farm in my head. I pass right out.
* * *
Landon
Oh, fuck!
“Nurse! Nurse!”
I run to Essie’s bed and slam on the nurse’s button. Edna and a woman in scrubs come running in.
“She passed out,” I yell, slightly panicking. I expected I may lose her, not for her eyes to roll back in her head and for her to pass the hell out.
I stare at the thin, pale frame of what I now know to be the most cynical, jaded woman I have ever met. Sage, the woman who escaped with Essie, is not nearly as bitter and angry as Essie, from what I’ve gathered. I wonder if some of this carries over from her childhood, not that every ounce of her anger and resentment isn’t deserved, because it is.
“You shouldn’t push her!” the nurse snaps at me.
“Hey,” I snap back, slightly defensive, “I’ve been more than gentle with Ms. Taylor. This is the first question I’ve asked her the entire time I’ve been here.”
I give her my harshest stare. She just huffs and walks out, muttering about nosy FBI agents. Yeah, well, lady, there are other women at risk here. It’s not just about Essie, though being here all day, sometimes I wish it could be. I wish I never had to push her.
“I understand,” Edna whispers, like she may get in trouble just for saying it. She glances up at me shyly as she adjusts Essie’s pillows.
“Thanks,” I mutter, still pissed off at that nurse.
Edna smiles down at Essie and whispers something in her ear I can’t make out. With a quick brush of her hair, Edna glances up at me.
“You can stay if you want, just don’t scare her when she wakes, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
With a small smile, the adorable, mousy woman walks out of the room. I sit back down in the chair and lean back. Before I know it, my eyes are closing.
The world slips by me.
* * *
I wake with a start when I feel eyes on me.
I shoot to my feet, heart racing, seeing one hundred different scenarios of me getting shot, stabbed, or killed play out in my mind. In all those scenarios, I just see Evie losing another family member, left all alone. I know the guys would step in for me, but it’s not the same.
“You’re safe,” a husky voice mutters.
I glance down. The biggest green eyes stare back up at me.
“Thanks.” I wipe a hand over my face. “What time is it?”
“5:30.”
My eyes bug out of my head. “5:30! Fuck! Oh, shit.”
Without thinking, I fall back in the chair and place my thumbs in my eye sockets.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Fuck, she shouldn’t be seeing this. I'm supposed to be getting answers from her. I'm gonna get fired. What am I even doing? I can’t even think about the fact that I'm gonna miss Evie again and she’s never gonna forgive me.
An ice cold h
and wraps around my wrist.
“Tell me.”
“It’s nothing.”
I try to force a smile. I fail.
“Quit being a little bitch and spit it out,” Essie snaps, staring over my head out the window.
“What do you see?” I murmur. She shrugs those frail shoulders of hers. “I have an idea.”
“Then will you tell me?”
“Yes.”
That piques her interest. “What’s the idea?” she asks skeptically, side-eyeing me.
“I know you don’t trust me, but do you know I won’t hurt you?”
“No,” she answers instantly.
With a dry attempt at a laugh, I shake my head.
“Fake it.”
I stand and extend my arm out to her. She scowls, clenches her fist, and glances around the room with something akin to panic in her eyes.
“Edna will see us, Essie. It’s okay,” I whisper. “I wanna show you something.”
“So?” she snaps, overly harsh. To me, it’s clear she’s trying to protect herself by scaring people off. Not me. She doesn’t scare me. For some reason, her crass nature calms me.
“Aww, don’t be mean. You can hate all humans but Edna. Edna’s an angel.”
Essie stares down at her thumbs. “I don’t remember her,” she whispers in the tiniest voice.
My eyebrows shoot up. Wow, okay. Umm. So when she’s gone, she really isn’t aware of anything.
“It’s okay,” I say, forcing brightness in my tone. “Let’s go meet her.”
Her eyes widen for the briefest moment, like a deer caught in headlights. But Essie Taylor is no deer. I don’t know what she is. She defies nature. She’s not prey, but she’s not a predator either, though I don’t think she realizes it.
Essie spits on my hand and scrambles back in the bed.
“Just tell me what’s wrong with you!”
“Gross, woman. I hate saliva.”
I wipe the spit on her mattress.
“Fine. I'm gonna go meet Edna and tell her why I'm upset.”
I walk to the door, hoping I'm not wrong about this. I get all the way to the door itself, then…
“Stop,” Essie yells, albeit quietly.
I glance over my shoulder, forcing casualty.
“Yes, doll.” She scowls at the nickname.
“I wanna know.”
“Then you gotta come with me.”
She’s teetering. I see it in her eyes. The sanity I’ve been gifted today is slipping away and I'm not ready to lose it.
“Essie, look at me.”
Slowly, she looks my way. Her eyes are tinged with water, but she’d never admit to it or let it go further than that.
“I’ll tell you what my plan is. That tree you keep looking at through the window, I want to show it to you in real life.”
“Why the hell would you wanna do that?”
I smile at her, but I know it’s sad.
“You’ll see.”
“Fuck you, Landon.” Her voice cracks.
I take three steps toward her and extend my hand. “Your choice, baby doll.”
Slowly, her fingers curl around mine, shaking hard. Her fingers are ice cold and bony. Her hands are calloused and rough. I don’t even want to know why.
“You got it, Essie?” I whisper as she peels one foot off the bed, then the other.
“Yeah.”
Nope. Her knees crumble when she puts her weight on them. Not fully, but enough where she has to lean on my hand a bit.
“I got ya. Don’t worry.”
She glances at me, but looks away quickly.
“Make this fast,” she mutters.
“Promise.”
I take her to the back door of her room and use the code they gave me at the front desk to open it. I don’t tell it to Essie or let her see.
She recoils at the bright sun, but I suspected that, and so did the staff. I grab the sunglasses off the dresser by the door and hand them to her. The wind blows, sending her thinning black hair floating through the air.
As soon as the wind rushes past her, the always-tough exterior Essie portrays crumbles like dying embers of a fire.
With a cry, her knees give out. I catch her before she hits the ground with my forearm. I'm about a half a foot away from her, arm out with her curled over it, crying.
“Shhh, it’s okay.”
She cries harder.
“Don’t leave yet, Essie. Don’t leave. Not quite yet. It’s just us.”
The wind blows again as her tears dry as fast as they came. With her head down, she whispers, “Tell me now.”
“Look at me.”
“I c-can’t. My mind is…” She’s gonna go. She feels it coming. Progress.
So, two feet from the back door, I take a seat, slowly bringing her with me.
“I have a sister. Her name is Evie. We don’t always get along very well, but I love her. She’s somewhere getting help with something right now. I was supposed to leave early today to visit her and I overslept. I said some mean sh-stuff last time, and I was hoping to apologize.”
“Call her.”
“Can’t.”
“Why?”
“Rules where she’s at.”
Essie frowns. I see it in the lines around her lips.
“Where is she?”
“I'm gonna keep that to myself right now, if that’s okay.”
Essie nods, head still down.
“Essie, I-I gotta know some things about you. I don’t want to cause you more pain. I don’t want you to think that’s all I care about, but…”
“It’s your job.”
“It is my job. To stop them.”
Essie stiffens, and her hands clench… “Stay with me,” I whisper, but I know it’s too late.
“The sirens,” she whispers, staring up at me with a little fear in her eyes. She’s scared to leave this time. Interesting.
I slowly grab her frail frame and pull her toward me.
She shakes all over, so I let her go.
“It’s okay.” You can stay or go, babe.
She faceplants into my chest and I lose her to the elephants she starts to talk about.
Chapter Fourteen
Landon
Essie doesn’t make an appearance today. I knew from the look on Edna’s face when I walked in that it wasn’t a good night. I wanted to ask Edna if I made a mistake pushing her, if the seemingly worse symptoms are my fault. Edna, of course, saw the guilt in my eyes. Her purple rainbow-painted fingernails wrapped around my arm and squeezed lightly, assuring me I didn’t screw up. I'm trained in what I do, but hell, sometimes I still need that.
Especially in cases like this, when the line between victim/agent and human empathy and compassion get blurred.
Now I'm on my way to see Evie. I'm so fucking nervous. Half of me prayed Essie would wake up just so I could hear her blunt, but oddly wise advice as to what I should do here. Which is crazy. Essie is half out of her mind from trauma. I'm losing it.
I pull up to Birchwood, heart pounding in my chest worse than any case I’ve ever been on. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump. Thump.
Because Evie is no case. She’s my baby sister. My world wrapped up in one person. My team, my job, mean the world to me. I mean it. We’re more than agents, we’re friends, we’re brothers. Live-and-die-for-each-other teammates. But for Evie, I’d leave every one of those men, hurt ‘em if I had to, to keep her safe. To keep her happy and protected.
The tech gives me a nervous look when she sees me. Great…
“I'm here to see Evie,” I mutter. “But I think you know that.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll let her know you’re here.”
The tech moves to leave, but I think on my feet and grab her arm. She startles.
“I'm sorry,” I apologize immediately and let her go. I know better than to touch people without their permission. Jesus. “Sincerely.”
Her eyes soften with a nod. “Of course. What’s up?”
>
“Don’t tell her it’s me. Just tell her she has a visitor.”
“Sir…”
“Landon,” I correct.
“Landon, I'm not sure I—”
“Ma’am, I said some things I regret. Things I regret with all my heart. Please give me a chance to make it up to her. Evie’s stubborn. She won’t give me a chance to apologize if she knows it’s me.”
She looks hesitant, and I'm so fucking tempted to use my status at the FBI to sway her, but not even I can do that.
“Fine,” she whispers, throwing her head back. “You’re gonna get me in trouble.”
When she glances back at me, I smirk and wink, but my heart’s not in it. Being with Essie these past almost two months has muddled my usually impenetrable bright demeanor.
I drag my feet to the waiting room. I place my head in my hands and think through Essie’s nonsensical words today. I need to tell Collin that Essie can speak with me… sometimes. Why haven’t I?
Because I want to check with her and see if it’s okay first.
Oh, fuck me.
“What are you doing here?” a voice hisses. Evie.
I'm not ready for this.
I lift my face from my hands and stare at my sister’s demon-like blue eyes. I don’t care how many times I see her bony frame and vacant eyes. It never gets easier staring at the body of my sister, seeing it withered away to nothing. Even her eyes are not her own. They are angry and cruel, maybe even a little scary when she’s fully in her disorder. It’s so unlike the kind, gentle sister I grew up with and eventually raised.
“Just hear me out, Eves.”
“I hate you!”
“You don’t hate me, Evie,” I whisper.
Her eyes water and I just want to coddle her and protect her from whatever is eating her alive inside… and out.
