by Ava Benton
“That’s right. I have dozens of spies throughout the area and all over the state. Apparently, the attack was rather savage in nature.”
“Sexual?” I asked.
“It may have started that way, but when the girl fought back, the attacker became violent. I don’t know exactly how much damage was done—reports vary.”
“Do you know her name?”
“Maggie Lewis,” he said. “She lives in Orlando, from what I understand. There hasn’t been any word from the authorities out there, so I assume she hasn’t reported the attack.”
“Probably afraid to,” Drew murmured.
“That was my assumption,” Vincent agreed. “I can only imagine how this maniac must have threatened her. He may even have friends working toward keeping her quiet. We tend to protect our own.”
“Yes, well, we don’t differ much in that respect,” Roan murmured.
I read the look in his eye and saw how irritated he was. And I knew why.
Vincent had a way of making it sound like we were two separate species—but what could we expect?
We weren’t considered part of their world, the shifters who were accepted, if not loved by humans. We were freaks, anomalies, something not to be spoken of.
“Of course, of course. I can see how close the four of you are,” the older man said with a smile. “You have your own pack. That’s good. We need that, all of us. Even humans, I suppose,” he mused as he lifted the Scotch to his lips.
“You said she lives in Orlando?” Carter prompted.
“Yes,” Vincent replied with a nod. “She works—or, worked—for Disney. The shifter saw her at the park while she was on duty, and he waited for her to leave after park closing.”
“So she met him like she accepted a date?” Drew asked.
“I’m not sure, but my spies tell me it sounds more like him seeing what he wanted, and going after it. You would have to ask her how the entire thing transpired, if you can find her.”
“I have no doubt we’ll be able to find her—we’ve never failed in tracking a missing person,” Roan said. “It’s what you want us to do with her when we find her that I’m concerned with. What is it you’re looking for?”
“Silence, ideally. I need to be sure she doesn’t report this to the authorities.”
“We don’t kill randomly people,” Roan replied in a tight voice. “We’ll put down anybody who needs to be—”
Vincent all but rolled his eyes. “I’m not suggesting you kill the girl. I would never suggest it or even think about it. I need to get rid of her some other way—preferably, by convincing her to move away and never come back. I’m happy to provide the cost of all moving expenses, whatever she needs to get settled somewhere else.”
“And if she refuses?” I asked.
“I hope you’ll be convincing enough,” he said, “but just let her know for me that there’s nothing I won’t do. If she wants a pay-off, I’m happy to discuss terms. If she needs protection, I can provide that. Whatever will keep her happy, it’s done.”
I glanced at my brother and cousins.
They seemed satisfied.
“All right,” Roan said. “It’s done. Mary will contact you about our expenses, I’m sure. We’ll start out for Orlando first thing in the morning and keep you posted on what we find.”
“Thank you.” He shook our hands, and that grip of his was still surprising, even though I remembered it from before.
I admired him. I even respected him for keeping his clan together and thriving. I just wasn’t sure if I liked him. Maybe I was jealous that he had a clan—and irritated with the way he seemed to pander to us, referring to our pack.
Wasn’t it nice that we had our little pack to hold onto; he might not have meant it that way, but that was the way it came out. He might as well have patted our heads before sending us on our way.
“I don’t know how I feel about him,” Roan muttered as we went to the car Mary or whoever she worked with had rented for us.
It was roomy, just like we needed—no way the four of us were about to fit into a standard four-door.
I waited until I was in the passenger seat and the rest of us were settled in before I agreed. I didn’t feel right talking shit before we even got in the car, especially since he could’ve had ears listening around the circular gravel driveway in front of his mansion. I was sure a guy like him left nothing to chance. Didn’t he say he ran a network of spies?
“Yeah, I don’t know how I feel, either,” I said as we pulled away. “I’m sure he knows what he’s doing. He runs an entire clan, nationwide. That counts for something.”
“It doesn’t mean I have to like him,” Carter said. “But he gets what he wants. You can just tell, you know?”
“Yeah, which is why we have to be careful on this,” Roan announced. “He wants that girl quiet, and he might say he doesn’t believe in silencing people the old fashioned way, but I wonder how he’d feel if she pushed him to that point. There’s a chance she won’t go for any of his ideas on how to keep her safe, you know?”
“I can just imagine this chick. She probably dresses up like a princess for work, and the big, bad wolf fell in love with her,” Drew snorted.
“You’re mixing up your fairy tales there,” I chuckled.
“I wonder about the type of attack and how vicious it was,” Carter muttered, looking out the passenger window. “Like, did he tear her up? Does she even look the same as she did?”
“I guess there’s only one way to find out.” Roan’s voice cut through our chatter and laughter, and we all grew serious. “Maggie Lewis from Orlando.”
“Already on it,” I muttered as I scrolled through social media profiles on my phone.
The third girl was pretty, petite, and dressed as Snow White.
“Bingo. That didn’t take long.” I pulled up her profile.
Sure enough, she was employed as a Disney cast member. I passed the phone around to the other guys and watched as their eyebrows went up.
“Cute,” Drew said.
“Real cute,” Carter agreed. “It would suck if he fucked up her face.”
“Nice,” Roan growled as he drove to our hotel.
“It’s true. And let’s be honest—if she turned him down, like he wanted to ask her out and she said no, he probably got pissed off. That’s how I usually get, anyway.” He handed the phone back to me.
“Remind me never to turn you down for a date,” I smirked.
“Like I would ask you out,” he grinned. “Besides, it’s not like I get turned down. Ever.”
Roan dialed Mary on the car’s Bluetooth. “Hey,” he said when she picked up. “We’re heading to Orlando in the morning.”
“Oh? Want to relive your childhood?” she asked with a snort.
“Something like that. The girl’s name is Maggie Lewis, and she lives and works in the area. We already found her on social and plan to find out where she lives.”
“No need. I can have that information for you in the morning.”
“Great. We’ll get started first thing, after getting a little sleep.”
He glanced my way, and I nodded—it was nice of him to at least pretend I had a say in anything we did, even when he was the one calling the shots as the team’s unofficial leader.
“You know,” Drew mused as we rode along, “I’ve never been to Disney World.”
“We went that one time with Dad, remember?” I asked Roan.
“Oh, yeah. But something tells me it was a lot easier for us to fit side-by-side on a ride back then than it would be now,” he joked. “Good thing we don’t expect to go there for fun.”
No. I knew better than to expect fun. Ever.
I looked out the window and chewed the corner of my mouth and wondered why my mood had gone downhill so fast.
I felt low again, tense, overtired and irritable.
I started to consider that it might be time for a vacation.
A very long one.
Three
>
Maggie
When I opened my eyes, the room was light. I hadn’t expected to fall asleep at all and was surprised when I woke up. A quick look at the clock on the bedside table told me it had been less than two hours, just long enough for the sky to go from pitch dark to light.
It was the longest stretch of sleep I’d had in five days.
I curled into a ball, my eyes fixed across the room on the wall opposite my bed. It was white, the sort of white all landlords like to paint apartments so they look as dull and plain as possible. Not like I was allowed to paint them in another color, either.
I guessed he wouldn’t want to have to paint over when I left. It made sense. That didn’t mean I had to like it.
But just then, I didn’t care one way or another. I usually did. My plain, joyless, bland apartment. The only sort of place I could afford. Not that I needed much, but I liked being able to show off my personality a little.
What personality was there any more? Who was I? The girl who couldn’t get out of bed. The girl who looked out every window and triple-checked the locks on the doors every time she did haul herself out from under the covers. The girl who couldn’t stop shaking.
I wrapped the blankets a little tighter around my body and wished I could go to sleep and stay asleep forever. I didn’t want to wake up anymore. What was the point of living life in fear?
My phone rang, making me jump in response.
I held a hand over my racing heart for a second before reaching for the device. I was trembling so hard, I could barely pick it up.
The sight of Bridget’s name on the ID helped me breathe a little easier.
“Hey, girl,” she said, sounding sympathetic. “How are you feeling?”
I reminded myself that I was supposed to sound raspy and congested, drained and miserable. Drained, I could do. “Not much better. I don’t think I’ve ever had a bug like this. I wouldn’t wish it on anybody.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” she sighed. “I was really hoping you’d say you turned the corner overnight or something.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” I managed to joke. Then, I coughed for effect.
“What’s Ramona have to say about the time off?” she asked.
Right. Ramona. “I have to call her in a little bit—I just woke up,” I explained. “She’ll probably gripe me out, but I haven’t taken a day off in two years. Not for anything.”
“Because you’re the queen of essential oils and eating garlic instead of taking antibiotics,” she teased.
“Well? It’s worked up until now.”
“Yeah, and when it doesn’t, you end up in bed for a week.”
“I know. It sucks. I hope my work record is strong enough to make up for it.”
“You know Ramona. She’s a softie under that hard exterior.”
“Where are you today?” I asked, wishing I cared.
“I’m dancing up and down Main Street for most of the day.”
“Fun times,” I smiled.
The costumes were hellishly hot and had been worn by untold numbers of people over the years. But that was to be expected. At least, as Snow White, I had never needed to dance and lip-synch in hundred-degree heat—though it didn’t get that hot in February.
“George and Frankie want to know when we’re drinking around the world again,” she giggled.
“Uh, how about a week from never?” I groaned.
It had taken two days to get over our brilliant idea to do what the tourists did and work our way from one end of Epcot’s World Showcase to the other, drinking at every stop. That was eleven drinks total in roughly ten hours. It did not go well.
“Come on. Give Frankie a chance,” she chided.
“Bridge…”
“He likes you so much,” she reminded me.
“I know. But just because he plays Prince Charming doesn’t mean he is.”
“That would be so cute, though, wouldn’t it? I wonder if the company would let you two have your wedding onsite.”
I laughed softly. “Somehow, I doubt it. Besides, I love it and all, but the idea of getting married at work doesn’t thrill me.”
“Ah, that’s true. Good point. Well, I’ll let you get some rest. How about I come to visit later on?”
I chewed my lip until it hurt. I didn’t want her to see me the way I was. She would know I had been lying, and then she’d want to know what really happened. And I couldn’t tell her. I would’ve rather died than ever tell anybody about that horrible night.
“I really need to disinfect this place first,” I lied. “I mean, I would feel so guilty if you got sick, too.”
“Understood—and I agree,” she laughed. “This is what you get for letting those little snot-nosed brats kiss you during pictures.”
“You know, considering that you don’t like kids very much, why did you start working in Disney World?” I asked.
“Because I love Mickey Mouse, obviously.” She was laughing when she hung up.
I wasn’t even barely smiling. It was nice to hear from her, but it was exhausting to pretend to be normal. Would there ever be a time when I’d feel normal? Would I ever go back to being able to work and function without bursting into tears at the most random times?
I had to pee. That meant having to get out of bed, which was not something I looked forward to doing.
I held my breath and listened hard with my eyes closed. There were no other noises coming from inside the apartment. I was alone. Nobody would hurt me. Not right now, anyway.
I pulled the blankets back and slid my legs over the edge of the mattress. It had to be done. I had to get out of bed. I shifted my weight to my feet and stood up, wincing as I did. The bruises were still nasty and made me grit my teeth as I walked out to the bathroom.
I avoided looking at myself in the mirror. Seeing myself was the last thing I wanted. I couldn’t stand myself, and I didn’t want to see what he did to me. I could feel it. I didn’t want to see it. The ache in my back and my thighs as I sat down to pee was bad enough.
At least he didn’t rape me.
I was tired of saying “at least,” but it was true. That would’ve made things so much worse.
If that car hadn’t passed so close to mine and made him run away, anything could’ve happened. I sure wasn’t strong enough to fight him off, no matter how hard I had tried.
I squeezed my eyes shut as tight as I could. It didn’t make a difference. I could still see him in front of me like I was back in that parking lot.
The hands, all over me, pressing and pulling and squeezing until tears sprang to my eyes. Making me cry out in pain. His hand clamping down over my mouth, almost smothering me. Kicking my legs and swinging my arms as much as I could, as hard as I could, turning my head from side to side until he finally let me breathe but that still didn’t get him to stop.
He still ran the hand that wasn’t covering my mouth up my leg, then between my legs.
That was when the car came by and the headlights shone on us, and he froze like ice, poised over me. And he had jumped up and left me lying there on the blacktop, frozen. Staring up the sky. Barely blinking.
I could still feel him on me and still smell him on me, and I had been afraid to move in case he came back and finished the job.
I had half-expected the car that passed by to stop and the people inside to get out and see what was wrong with me—only they hadn’t stopped. They probably hadn’t seen us.
In retrospect, I was glad it worked out that way. I would’ve had to tell them what happened and I wasn’t even sure I could speak yet. Even if I could, I sure as hell didn’t want to tell them what happened. It would’ve meant admitting that he had hurt me and would’ve hurt me even more if nobody came by.
When I washed my hands, my eyes drifted up to the mirror out of habit. I couldn’t help it, no matter how much I didn’t want to see myself. It was one of those things, just like washing my hands was something I did without thinking first.
There we
re deep, dark circles under my eyes—almost like bruises. An actual bruise sat on my jaw, spreading down my throat to match the circle around it, where he had first wrapped his hands around it and squeezed.
I thought he was going to choke me to death. I was almost sure of it. I almost wished he had.
My hair was greasy and lank. I had to wash it. I probably smelled bad, too.
The four showers I took after I got home the night of the attack were one thing, but I hadn’t been able to drag myself into the shower since then. It hurt, too, the water hitting my skin. Even raising my arms was painful—I had probably pulled all the muscles in both shoulders while I was trying to fight him off.
“Who are you?” I whispered. I pressed my palm against the mirror, covering my face. I couldn’t look at myself. I wished I were never born.
I had a lot of things to take care of. Like calling Ramona. I had to get that out of the way first. What would I do if she told me I had to come back to work soon or else?
I couldn’t appear in front of guests looking the way I did. It was obvious that somebody had hurt me. I’d scare the hell out of any kids who saw me. I scared myself.
And Mom. I had to visit Mom.
I sat on the bed and pulled my knees up to my chest, rocking back and forth at the thought of leaving the apartment. Alone, no less. What if he was watching?
I got up and looked out the window. The parking lot seemed pretty normal for early morning, I guessed. Plenty of cars out there since most of the tenants hadn’t left for work yet. That would change soon.
I wondered if any of my neighbors understood how dangerous just walking to the car could be. I wanted to warn them. Don’t go out there at night. Look both ways. Check behind the car before you unlock the door. Be aware.
Somebody could jump out from behind your trunk and throw you up against the car so hard, your back would bruise from tailbone to collarbones. They could take you by the throat and growl in your face and tell you they got what they wanted and they wanted you. They could pull you to the ground and put their hands on you…
And the hands. More like claws. How was that possible?
