Ashes

by Aleatha Romig

  I nodded. “I guess that’s a good assessment. We are who we are.”

  “Oleg was big, like really tall. In a way, Laurel’s husband reminds me a bit of him. They put off that vibe. You know?”

  Hearing Mason referred to as Laurel’s husband returned the smile to my face.

  “And yet,” she went on, “just because he looked intimidating, I always felt safe around him. Maybe even more so than with Andros.” She shook her head. “Never mind. The thing is, if I ran into the four of you in a hallway where we live, I might reach for Oleg and take comfort in his presence. Here, other than Mr. Sparrow who seems grumpy—which is crazy because Araneae is so nice—anyway, you are all, well, I feel more like you’re all Olegs. I know that sounds stupid.”

  “I think it was a compliment.”

  “And you listen.” She spun toward me. “Right now, you’re listening to what I’m saying. Most men don’t listen. They talk and hear answers, but most of the men I’m used to would never sit here with me and talk.”

  “Ruby, you’re safe here. Araneae, Laurel, and Lorna will be here all day. Usually Reid is near. I promise when I return it will be with your mom. I hope it’s today. If it isn’t, don’t give up. I won’t let you down.”

  “Maddie?”

  The smile on my lips grew, raising my cheeks. “Yes, you see your mother was fifteen when we met, and she introduced herself as Maddie.”

  “It’s a fun name. I like it.”

  I stood. “Trust me?”

  Ruby nodded. “I think so.”

  “I wanted your mom to be here when you learned the truth about me. I hoped she could help you accept it.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I accept.”

  “It does.”

  “Not in the science,” she said. “You said there was a paternity test. You’re my father.”

  “I am.”

  She shrugged. “See, my acceptance doesn’t change that.”

  “I hope one day you will—accept.”

  “I think it was good that Mom wasn’t here. I want to be upset too, but I get your point. Being mad at her for keeping this secret won’t change the past.”

  “But it could the future,” I said, standing. “Let’s not do that.”

  “Patrick?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m not ready to call you Dad or any derivation of that title.”

  Again I smiled. “You do what feels right. Patrick or ‘hey, you’ works well.”

  “Hey, you,” she said with a grin. “Thanks for what you did to Mr. Hillman. Thanks for saving me.”

  “I’m a little late to the job, but I accept it wholeheartedly.” I peered toward the elevator and back to Ruby. “I need to go. I’ll try to keep in touch. Just know I’m doing my best.”

  “I’m glad you and Mom found each other again.”

  “Me too.”

  One thing that struck me throughout our conversation was Ruby’s aversion to speaking about Ivanov and life in Detroit. Perhaps she truly had spent most of her time at the academy in Ann Arbor.

  Another thing she questioned was my living arrangements.

  It was simple, I told her. Mr. Sparrow, Mason, Reid, and I met after I’d lost touch with her mom. The four of us became friends, and now we worked together and lived as neighbors. I hadn’t given our situation a lot of thought, but now I wondered how it differed from where she and Madeline lived in Detroit.

  Scanning my handprint outside the pocket door that covered the elevator in the penthouse, I made the choice to think about Ruby later. I had time to learn more and for her to learn more about me. Right now, I had to concentrate on Madeline.

  Was the necklace broadcasting?

  Had she sent any messages via the secret email?

  What was happening?

  With my mind on Maddie, the elevator doors opened to our apartments and to my surprise, the door to Reid and Lorna’s apartment opened and Reid stepped out. Our eyes met.

  “Do you have a plane ready?” I asked.

  “Plane is ready. Tell me your plan.”

  My neck stiffened as I felt the cords come to life; the tension that being with Ruby had lessened was back. “My plan is that I’m going to do what Sparrow said. I’m going to go get Madeline and bring her here.”

  “Just like that?”

  “She’s at Marion Elliott’s ranch. She isn’t bunkered down in the Ivanov bratva.”

  Reid nodded. “First, before you go, come downstairs to 2 with me.”

  I’d already spent more time up with Ruby than I’d planned. The flight to Dallas was a two-and-a-half-hour flight, and that didn’t include ground transportation. “Fine. I need to grab something from the apartment.” Less than a minute later, I was back. “Let’s go to 2. Tell me who’s going with me.”

  “Marianne will pilot.”

  We were now standing before the elevator. “Marianne? I thought Sparrow had a meeting out of town today with some bigwig in New York. She should pilot him.” I was having difficulty keeping up on everyone’s schedule.

  “He postponed it,” Reid replied.

  I scoffed. “I’m sure Stephanie is thrilled.” Stephanie was Sparrow’s personal assistant at Sparrow Enterprises, the headquarters for the Sparrow real estate conglomerate.

  “Stephanie has been putting up with him longer than Araneae has,” Reid said. “She’s used to him. She’ll make some great excuse that will probably have the CEO jumping on his plane to meet Sparrow in Chicago.”

  Reid was right. Though Stephanie had never been expressly told about the Sparrow outfit, she was Sparrow’s eyes and ears in the corporate world and knew he had a busy life away from Michigan Avenue. They’d come to an understanding years ago.

  “Any capos?” I asked.

  “Come downstairs. I have some information and aerial views of the ranch that will affect your plan, if you ever tell me what it is.”

  Did I have a plan?

  How fucking hard would it be to enter a ranch, demand to see Madeline, and remove her from the premises?

  As Reid and I entered 2, multiple large screens shone high above, filled with different views of Elliott’s ranch.

  “I came down after breakfast and pulled up some surveillance from the last few days. It all looks rather benign,” Reid said, “but since getting to know Mason’s ranch, I’ve started looking at less obvious signs. Elliott doesn’t have armed guards around his property, and there’s a lot of traffic from ranch hands as well as those working the wells. But check out this time-lapsed video.”

  Leaning against the edge of one of the desks, I crossed my arms over my chest and watched. With the increased speed it was obvious there was a bubble of sorts over the main house and surrounding buildings.

  “Watch the horses,” I said, zeroed in on their apparent aversion to the corral closest to the house.

  “They’re actually what clued me in,” Reid said. “There’s nothing visible, yet they all slow when they get close, turn, and go the other way.”

  “There’s traffic on the road to the house.”

  “Yes, but watch.” He hit some buttons. A view of a long black car leaving the main house came into view. “This is Ivanov leaving early this morning.”

  “Is he alone?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I followed his car to the helicopter and from there to the airport. This is out of character. He usually travels with a caravan. That in itself is a clue that he feels safe and comfortable on Elliott’s ranch.”

  “He went there because of Ruby. Any chance they know we have her?”

  Reid shook his head. “Only if they can trace our flight. It’s well disguised in layers of ownership and shell corps. It’s not like you flew the bird down there.”

  “But it’s possible.”

  Reid nodded.

  “What about the necklace?” I asked. “Or a message?”

  Reid shook his head. “Nothing since yesterday afternoon. Regarding evidence of us having Ruby, I would have found it if this were the ot
her way around. No matter what, we have time on our side.”

  My head shook. “I won’t be confident until we get Madeline out of there.”

  The steel door behind us opened.

  “Then let’s go,” Mason said as he walked in dressed in his casual blue jeans and thermal shirt, its long sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing his tatted forearms. On his feet were his signature cowboy boots. It was what he’d been wearing at breakfast, only now his hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck.

  “You have to stay with Sparrow,” I said.

  “I am and so are you.”

  Reid grinned. “I’d be there too, but I think it’s better if I keep things monitored here. Besides, we know this place is safe, but I’m not leaving those women upstairs.” His large hand landed on my shoulder. “That includes your daughter, Patrick.”

  My head bobbed as I swallowed. “I appreciate this, but I don’t need the cavalry.”

  Mason looked up at the screen. “I know the program Elliott’s running. I know how to beat it without him knowing we did. Sparrow called in a favor. We’ve got access to a back entrance. Reid’s watching past videos for a semblance of a schedule on Elliott’s part. Man,” Mason said, “we’ve got a war that needs all of us. It won’t have that until you have Madeline here. Even Sparrow knows that.”

  The steel door again moved and Sparrow entered. “Get your asses in gear. The plane is ready and we have men waiting.” He looked to Reid. “Two and a half hours each way?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell Stephanie,” Sparrow said, looking at his watch, “I’ll be at the office by 3:15.”

  My watch read a little after nine. “Cutting it close.”

  Sparrow shrugged. “We’ve got the best men on this. I expect nothing less than perfection.”

  “All right, let’s go.”

  “And,” Sparrow said as we all headed toward the elevator. “Once we’re on the plane, I’ll fill you in on the manufacturing plant in McKinley Park.”

  My gaze narrowed as I tried to recollect. “The one Elliott Inc. built as payback to McFadden?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Madeline

  More than sixteen years ago

  The senator’s house was ghostly silent as Andros led me through the hallways. While I’d been blindfolded and couldn’t be sure, I didn’t believe this was the way I’d entered. There were no sounds or scents of a kitchen. The floor beneath my bare feet was made of slate, tiles in differing colors and sizes and the surface didn’t vary. Each room we passed was empty and dim. Only the hallway was filled with light.

  I wanted to tell Mr. Ivanov that I needed to use the bathroom. It seemed that would be obvious after as long as I’d been standing, yet I was afraid to speak.

  With his hand in the small of my back, over the cape, I silently followed where he led.

  Was I a sheep to slaughter?

  Or was this man my savior and that of my child’s?

  A woman met us near grand lead-glass double doors that I believed led to the outside. Bright lights filtered through the glass, creating a prism that cast colors upon the floor and walls.

  “Sir, I can show the girl to the bathroom before your trip.”

  Girl.

  As soon as she spoke, I recognized her voice. She was the woman who had met the car, tipped the driver, given me a drink of water, and led me to the room. There was no reason to believe this woman was doing anything other than her job. Then again, who willingly participated in the display and sale of human beings?

  “Is my car waiting?” Mr. Ivanov asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Look at me, Madeline,” he commanded.

  Timidly, I did.

  “Do you need what she offers?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Take her,” he said to the woman. “I’ll wait.”

  As if I were again without sight, the woman reached for my elbow and led me away. Though the aroma wasn’t as strong as it had been, I knew we were approaching the kitchen. As we crossed the threshold, the sight of partially eaten platters of various foods came into view. My empty stomach grumbled, yet I didn’t speak.

  Another example of the inequality of lives.

  These people’s rubbish would be a feast for the girls in the cell. I stilled, seeing the plates and trays stacked upon one another as workers scraped the contents into large trash bins. Other workers carried the cleared platters toward a sink and what appeared to be an industrial-sized dishwasher.

  Large and silver with a big tray along a track, it was similar to one we had at the mission.

  “This way, girl,” the woman said, reminding me to keep moving.

  Her voice garnered the other workers’ attention.

  It was only a moment, yet they all looked my direction and then away, telling me without a word that I was nothing unusual to this household, a young woman who had been displayed and sold.

  I recalled the man at Dr. Miller’s office, the one I now knew was Senator McFadden. I recalled Wendy telling him about an impending shipment. He’d commented that he might throw a party.

  Had those girls been brought here first?

  Had they avoided the likes of the cell where I’d been and instead been sold upon their arrival?

  My empty stomach twisted as the concoction created by the scents and thoughts bubbled within.

  “In here,” the woman said, opening a door to a small bathroom. “Be quick.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, stepping inside and turning toward her.

  Despite this woman’s use of girl in place of my name or even a pronoun, what she did next was the most humane action I’d experienced in months. She shut the door, leaving me alone between the sink and toilet. I hadn’t been alone to take care of personal business since the day I was sold.

  Slowly, I turned toward the large mirror over the sink.

  The rest of the room disappeared as my reflection came into view.

  I hadn’t seen myself since the dressing room in the store when I’d tried on the white dress.

  My fingers blanched, gripping the vanity as I tried to stay standing, fearful my growing nausea and weakening legs would land me on the hard floor.

  Who was I?

  They’d done it or I’d allowed it to happen.

  I was no longer the girl I remembered.

  I was broken.

  Starved, abused, and defeated.

  Each descriptor showed within my lifeless green eyes.

  Even the makeup Miss Warner applied didn’t hide the hallowed shadows, stark cheekbones, and thinning hair. I lifted my hands to my hair, having not given it much thought over more pressing issues like food and survival.

  “Girl, your new owner is waiting,” she called from the other side of the door.

  New owner.

  The title rolled off her tongue.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I managed as I swooshed aside the cape and sat on the toilet. New tears filled my eyes as I emptied my bladder.

  In the quiet solitude, the reality of my future settled heavily upon my shoulders.

  I had once again been sold.

  Mr. Ivanov said I had worth.

  Now, again standing, with warm water flowing and the sweet scent of black-cherry soap filling the air, I rubbed my hands. As I did, contradicting emotions brought the small hairs on my arms and neck to life and drained any color from my cheeks.

  Fear and faith.

  My rational mind told me that I should be terrified of leaving with Mr. Ivanov. My thoughts should be filled with the numerous possibilities of what could happen once we left. God knew I had life experiences to fuel scenes that to most people were reserved for nightmares. This was the waiting point, the part I detested even more than the acts that followed. I should open the door and beg the woman to help me.

  And yet my fear wasn’t of the man waiting for me.

  It was reserved for the cell and Miss Warner.

  What if Mr. Ivanov changed his mind?


  Would I be sent back?

  What if Andros Ivanov realized that I was hopeless and decided that I wasn’t worth the money he’d paid?

  What would happen to me and my baby if we went back?

  Instead of fearing Mr. Ivanov, he’d somehow earned something I’d forgotten existed: faith. Wiping away the tears with a tissue, I threw it away and opened the door.

  “Are you ready?” the woman asked.

  What kind of question was that to a woman in my position?

  Are you ready to rejoin your new owner and spend your life as someone’s purchase?

  Instead, I chose to think of it another way in my damaged, hungry, thirsty, and frightened comprehension.

  Are you ready to get farther and farther away from the cell where you’d been held?

  Taking a deep breath, I willed my shoulders back and spoke, “Yes, ma’am. I’m ready.”

  With only a nod, she led me back to the door where Mr. Ivanov was waiting. As we neared, my steps stuttered. My new owner was no longer alone but talking quietly with the senator. They were both standing in their expensive suits, chatting as if they hadn’t recently completed a transaction to sell and purchase another human being.

  As we came closer, I lowered my eyes, bowed my shoulders forward, and tugged the cape closer. My desire to once again disappear into invisibility was attempted too late. Both of their gazes had already come my way, scanning me from head to toe as if the cape had again been removed.

  “Look up, Madeline,” Mr. Ivanov said.

  Though tremors rattled my limbs, my chin rose.

  “Tell Senator McFadden goodbye.”

  Before I could speak, the senator did. “Really, Mr. Ivanov, consider it a goodwill gesture for my assistance with your acquisition. I’d like one more shot with her. It wouldn’t take long.”

  Mr. Ivanov scoffed. “Senator, I will keep your shortcomings to myself.”

  Senator McFadden patted Mr. Ivanov on the shoulder with a feigned laugh. “Okay, my boy. I can have others. Enjoy her. If it’s a boy, you got off cheap.”