He trails sweet kisses down my throat. He continues downward, planting a kiss between my breasts, and down to my navel. As his lips pass my navel, I raise my hips. He stops, glancing up at me. I can see the fire in his eyes.
“I need you,” he tells me, though his words are forceful enough that it almost sounds like a command. It’s as if half his sentence is left unfinished—I need you, so stay with me. I need you, so don’t leave. I need you, so let me inside you.
I spread my legs a bit wider—my version of a reply. He positions himself between my thighs. I feel the plump head of his cock press against me. He rocks his hips back and forth, his cock enters me slowly, allowing me to adjust to his size, as he gets used to my tight warmth.
Once he is completely inside me, I feel almost too full—but in a good way. It’s an abundance of what I have unknowingly craved. When he begins to thrust inside me, his pubic bone rubs against my clit and I know I have needed him for a long time. I raise my body against his and he increases his pace. I can only whimper in pleasure as his friction against me sends me so close to the edge that I would do nearly anything to jump off it.
I wrap my arms around him and place my hands on his shoulder blades that move with every thrust. I press my lips against his chest to stop myself from crying out. I am so close, so close.
Aaron must be able to tell because he stops and grinds against my clit. It’s all I need. My inner walls begin to convulse and tsunamis of pleasure—uncontrollable waves—rush over me. I tremble under him as he thrusts into me one last time and I feel his hot ecstasy fill me.
He collapses beside me. I close my eyes as the last of my pleasure ebbs away. He slides his arm under me and pulls me tight against him. He kisses me, a stunningly sweet and innocent kiss in comparison to everything that had just happened.
“You’re very special,” he murmurs.
My breathing begins to slow. I look straight into his eyes and for the first time in forever, I realize what I had been missing my whole life. I wanted to belong to someone. My adoptive parents loved me, yes, but they had four other children to love as well. My ex-husband had loved me, but his job and politics were his true love, and I could feel it with every romantic gesture. But when I made love with Aaron, I knew that I was completely his and he was completely mine in that moment. There was no competition—when he was inside me, when he kissed me, I felt everything he had to give me. Nothing was saved for someone else.
But maybe that’s just the afterglow talking.
45
Sarah, 2015 (Early Saturday morning)
I CAN SENSE SOMEONE peering down at me. When I open my eyes, it’s Debbie.
“Hey,” she says. “You got out of the mine.”
“Am I dead?” I ask.
She scrunches up her nose. “Why do you keep asking me that?” she says. “Can’t you start a conversation a different way? Like, hey, half sister. How’s it going? Did you meet Kurt Cobain in the afterlife?”
“I’m pretty sure I have to be dead,” I tell her. “The fire…I was in the middle of the woods…”
“Well, I told you to survive. I told you to fight,” she says. “Did you?”
“I did,” I insist. “I fought as hard as I could. I survived for…I don’t know how many days, but it was a long time. I survived. I fought for the chance to live. I can’t be dead.”
“What are you going to do now?” she asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you fought for this chance to live. Are you going to waste it all away on cheerleader practice now?” she asks. “Are you going to be attacked by two druggies again? How long is it going to be before someone else pegs you as weak and decides to make you a victim?”
“I’ll never be a victim.” I fold my arms over my chest.
She smirks. “You can only be a victim or a predator. Your father is a predator. Mason is a predator. Your mother…is weak and useless. And you? You’ve always been weak and useless, too. You don’t have any of your father’s genes.”
“You said I was a lioness!” I yell, my hands balling into fists.
She raises her eyebrows. “I’m just a figment of your imagination. I’m just telling you what you’re thinking. You needed to survive before, so I told you to fight. Now, you don’t. Mommy and Daddy will take care of you again. Old men will pinch your ass in the restaurant, and you’ll pretend it’s okay. Boyfriends will cheat on you, and you’ll pretend to not notice. Your daddy will hit you for not refilling the car with gas, and you’ll cry like a little bitch. Once a victim, always a victim.”
I lurch for her, my arms ready to wrap around her neck. But she vanishes.
“I’m not a victim!” I shout. “I’m not!”
But there’s no one there. I’m alone.
I jerk awake. I’m sitting in a hospital bed with an IV in my arm and a nasal cannula in my nostrils. I can’t tell what time it is because of the midnight sun—it’s either night time or early morning. I don’t know how I got here. Could I have gotten kidnapped while I was unconscious?
Of course not, you idiot. What kidnappers would take you to a hospital?
I shake my head, trying to get Debbie’s voice to vanish. It’s bad enough that she’s in my dreams, but the last thing I need is a dead girl’s voice talking to me while I’m conscious.
Then, I see my mother asleep in the chair next to my bed, and my father is standing by the large window beside the bed. He notices that I’m awake and rushes over to my side.
“Sarah, sweetie, how are you feeling?” he asks, taking my hand into his.
I stare down at it. My hand is tiny compared to his large, hairy, almost bear-like hands. I slide my hand out of his grip. I see a flash of anger in his eyes—pissed that I would reject his comfort—but it’s quickly disguised with concern again. His hair is unkempt—the strands in the back flattened, so it sticks straight up behind his head like a small crown. Or like a lion’s mane.
Your father is a predator. You’ve always been weak and useless.
“Is something wrong, Sarah?” my father asks. “Maybe you should lie back down. You’ve been through a lot. You should sleep.”
“I don’t need to sleep,” I tell him. “I’m not weak.”
“You’ve been through a lot,” he repeats. “You don’t even need to sleep, just lie down.”
He puts his hand on my shoulder and begins to push me back down, trying to get me to lie flat on the bed. I jerk away from him. He frowns. “Sarah Elizabeth Latham. You better lie down or, so help me God, I will—”
“Sarah? Judge Latham?” a deep voice asks.
A strange man takes a few steps into the room. He must have been lingering near the door. He’s bald, rather tall, but slim, and he’s wearing a black suit. He could be a businessman or a funeral director.
“I’m Agent Donovan. I heard you two talking…” He turns to me. “I didn’t think you would wake up for a while, but since you’re awake, can I ask you some questions?”
I glance at my father. His lips are pressed tightly together and a nerve is twitching near his eye. I look to my other side, and my mother is still sleeping. Knowing her, she took a sleep aid. Well, I don’t want to go to war with my father right now. I am not quite the predator he is. Yet.
“Sure,” I say.
He smiles and takes a few steps closer. “First, we are all so glad that you’re alive.”
I lean back down, my body feeling tired from all the rage that had been building up inside me. “Who is we?” I ask. “How many people were looking for me? Why is the FBI even involved?”
“Well, the FBI is involved because your father is a judge and we thought it might have involved one of his cases. And the whole town was looking for you,” he says. “We looked everywhere, but it was my partner and Detective Grant who realized that you were either in the mine or the quarry.”
“What happened to the kidnappers?” I ask. I know he’s the one who is supposed to be asking questions, but now curiosity is getting
the best of me.
“Um, well, they aren’t alive anymore,” he says. “They were killed.”
“By who?” I ask. I don’t feel any sadness over their deaths. In fact, there’s a flicker of satisfaction and a bit of disappointment that I would never be able to see them get the punishment that they deserve.
“That’s why I want to ask you some questions,” he says. “Did you have any problems with your half brother, Mason?”
“Mason?” I blurt. “No. I mean, maybe he had some problems with my mom and me…because I think…he thought we replaced his old family…including his deceased sister…but he and I were fine. He used to babysit me when I was younger. You aren’t implying that he was part of what happened to me, are you?”
“There is some evidence that he was,” Agent Donovan says. “He confessed to Detective Grant.”
“That is a lie.” My father hisses. His fists are balled up so tightly that I can see some of his veins protruding in his arms. “There is no way Mason was involved. Detective Grant has had it out for my family this whole time. He probably wants Sarah for himself because he’s deluded into thinking he can replace his daughter with her. He is a liar. Mason is not involved. How would he even confess in the middle of a fire? All he was doing was trying to find Sarah, and Detective Grant has twisted it into his own bizarre story. I’d bet my damn house at this point that he’s the one who was involved in the kidnapping. Why else would he invent such bullshit?”
“Judge Latham, maybe it’s best if you leave the room for these questions,” Agent Donovan says.
My father grabs Agent Donovan by the collar and slams him against the wall. The sound is loud enough for my mother to wake up. She blinks bewildered as my father presses Agent Donovan against the wall.
“Earl!” she scolds.
“Judge Latham…” Agent Donovan wraps his hands around my father’s wrist, but he can’t get my father to release his grip.
This is how a predator shows his dominance.
A nurse rushes in, her eyes wide as she takes in the scene. She looks like she could have been a nun in her past life—gray hair pulled up into a bun, sharp bone structure, and stern gray eyes.
“All of you need to get out!” the nurse yells, pointing at the door.
My father releases Agent Donovan. “I am her father,” he says, gesturing toward me.
“I don’t care,” she says. “This girl has been through a terrible ordeal and all of you are just disturbing her peace. Leave. You can come back in a few hours when you’ve cooled off.”
My father scowls, but he turns around to me, leans forward, and kisses the top of my head. I don’t acknowledge it. My mother gives me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“I’m sorry, Sarah,” Agent Donovan says, bowing his head. He leaves first, followed by my parents. The nurse walks over to me.
“You’ve got a mess of a family there, don’t you?” she asks, pulling my blankets up higher around my body.
“They’re harmless,” I lie, though being harmless and innocent doesn’t seem like such a compliment anymore. The innocent is kidnapped and left for dead. The guilty survive, better than they were before crimes were committed against them. I did not survive, but I’ve come back as something new.
Something worse.
46
Teresa, 2015 (Saturday morning)
“GOOD MORNING! THIS IS Anchorage’s number one station, ninety-two point eight, the Crash. As many of you have heard now, there was a devastating fire in Wyatt. So far, there are six known casualties, but there are still some people missing. Some good news is that the missing daughter of Judge Latham was found at the same time the fire was spreading. She suffered from hypothermia, dehydration, two broken ribs, a broken ankle, and a bunch of other medical terms I couldn’t pronounce for you, but she is now in stable condition. You guys know I’m not a big fan of the law or anyone involved in it, but God bless the policeman and FBI agent who found her, and bless the fact that she was alive after being missing for three days. That is truly a miracle. If any of you want to donate to the families who have lost their loved ones in the fire, you can donate to the Alaska Regional Hospital or Wyatt Fire Department.”
I turn off the hotel alarm and pull the comforter tightly around me. After spending the last few days in a motel, being in a five-star hotel is luxurious.
“We should probably check on Sarah today,” Aaron mumbles, his arm wrapping around my waist.
I feel his lips press against the back of my head. “At least she’s stable,” I say.
“At least stable physically,” Aaron says. “This will have her messed up for a while and wait until she finds out that her brother was involved. But you should have gone with them. It would have been safer.”
“I would never abandon my partner,” I say. “Even when he’s chasing after a murderer in the middle of a forest fire.”
“We didn’t die and he’s going to end up in prison for a long time,” he says. “I think that makes it worth it.”
“And if you had died? Would it be worth it then?” I ask.
“Not if I missed that kiss you gave me,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against mine.
His lips are a little rough, a little insistent, a little hungry to touch mine. I like it that way.
“Or the several after that,” he says.
My cell phone rings.
Aaron groans. “Don’t they know you just finished your case?” he asks.
I pick up my phone. It’s Agent Donovan. Of course, Aaron guessed correctly that it was work. Who else would be calling me?
I press speakerphone. “Hey, Agent Donovan,” I answer, as Aaron lies back against his pillow, closing his eyes.
“Hello, Agent Daniels. So, I thought you should know that Judge Latham is insisting his son is innocent and pissed that Detective Grant paralyzed him.”
“How can Judge Latham even think he’s innocent? He was near the mine, the same place Sarah was stashed, and he admitted it to Detective Grant.” I glance over at Aaron. He had told me a few things that Mason had said during their confrontation, but I feel like he is still keeping a few conversations secret.
“Well, I visited Sarah this morning and all she knows is that Pete Rodinger and Kenny Sevak were the ones who kidnapped her. She doesn’t know anything about Mason’s involvement, and Judge Latham is insisting that Detective Grant has some kind of grudge against his family. He said a few nasty things about Detective Grant’s late family as well.”
Aaron scowls, but remains silent.
“Anyway, the good news is that we’ve found plenty of evidence on Mason’s laptop that he was more involved with Rodinger and Sevak than he led on to the state police. There were e-mail exchanges he had deleted, but our tech geeks recovered, which shows he was selling drugs in Anchorage that they had manufactured for him. With that, Detective Grant’s testimony, and your testimony, he should be going to prison for a while.”
“Thanks for the news, Agent Donovan,” I say. “I’ll see you sometime later.”
“I’m sure there will be another case soon, Agent Daniels,” he says.
I hear the click as he hangs up. Aaron traces a finger up my thigh. I thread my fingers with his.
“How will I see you if you’re sent somewhere else?” he asks.
“I’ll try to get cases around here,” I say. “But if there’s a serial murderer or some other interesting case…”
“I won’t stop you,” he says. “I’ll wait for you to be done, or maybe I’ll go visit you wherever you are.”
I kiss him. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer. Our bodies wrap around each other, and it feels like a sun burns so brightly inside me that I may never see darkness again.
47
Mason, 2015 (One month later)
ANCHORAGE CORRECTIONAL COMPLEX HAS handicapped single cells. I am alone with my thoughts, no one to manipulate, and two useless legs that just look like denim drapes on my wheelchair. It is literally my worst nightm
are—locked in a cage, locked in my body, and locked inside my head. If I could have committed suicide, I would have, but hanging myself would require me to be able to stand up.
“Latham!” a prison guard shouts, as he walks down my block. He unlocks my prison door with a toothy grin on his face. His ruddy face is the most punch-worthy I’ve ever seen.
He lumbers behind me as I roll my way to Visitation. As I enter the room, all I can see are men who resemble a Minotaur sitting across from sixty-year-old women who are wearing knitted sweaters.
“Are they treating you well?” one of the women asks, her voice almost a whimper.
“I’m fine, Ma.” One of the men grunts.
I don’t even recognize anyone until one of the men shifts in his chair, and I can see her willowy body that was hidden behind his girth.
I wheel my chair across from her, squeezing my way between two enormous men.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“They’re saying that you were involved in my kidnapping.”
Sarah runs a hand through her hair with her left hand. Her right hand is still in a brace, lying on top of the table.
“Is it true?” she asks. “Why would you put me through that? For money?”
I lean forward and she jerks backward, wincing as her arm hits against the edge of the wooden table.
“I wasn’t involved. You know me. I would never hurt you. Please believe me.” I plead, putting on the most pathetic face I can. I finally have someone to manipulate and I’m not about to miss this chance. “Remember, I’m the one who babysat you when Dad was working, and Vanessa would go off with her friends. After losing Debbie, I would never let anything bad happen to you, and I absolutely wouldn’t cause anything bad to happen to you. I love you. I don’t know why these cops are trying to make it seem like I would.”
She eyes me, suspicion clear in her eyes. “They say you were running some kind of drug ring with the two men who kidnapped me, and you were near the mine when I was discovered.”
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