Retribution

by Natasha Knight

  But I had one other clue.

  I threw the covers back and got out of bed, going to my desk in the study. Rummaging through the mess of papers I never bothered to clean up, I found it. I found the stationary with Dr. Acosta’s office information on it. He knew everything. And I had his address right here. I would go to him. I would find out who she was, and I would learn all about her. Find out everything.

  This was good. This gave me purpose.

  DAYS PASSED IN A drunken blur, with no idea what state I was even in. My face and fist hurt. I’d been in a fight last night. Another one. The bathroom mirror of the cheap roadside motel told me that much. I vaguely remembered the other guy looking worse than me. I almost smiled, but then, every time I tried, I saw her like she’d been the final night. Suspended, unconscious. The thought she’d wet herself out of the terror I’d caused broke me a little every time I thought about it, and I couldn’t not think about it.

  Remarkably, I’d managed to hold onto my wallet and my phone, and I saw the missed calls. Saw the text. What the fuck was wrong with her? She should be happy to be free. But then, there it was, one word, my name, and all I could do was remember. Fucking remember.

  Adam?

  Calling out to me as if I was there. Like she had so many times in the cell.

  Adam?

  It haunted me, her voice. It wouldn’t let me sleep. That’s why the drink, well, that and other things. Alcohol made me forget. It made me pass out. And all I wanted to do right now was put as much distance as possible between myself and those days. Between me and the man who’d done those things to her. But I knew in my heart, that man was me. I was the monster. I could run as far as I wanted for as long as I wanted. I could go to the other side of the world. I could throw my phone into the fucking toilet, change my name, again, run, fucking run, but I knew wherever I’d end up, there I’d be, unable to escape the monster inside me.

  I GOT DRESSED TO leave the house, to go to the doctor’s office, to find out what he knew about Adam, about where he was, about his sister. I did it three times. And each time I’d get out into the hallway, my heart would start pounding, my hands shaking, a cold sweat breaking out under my arms and across my forehead. Each time, I’d go scurrying back home and struggle to get the key into the lock, in a full panic by the time I got inside and locked the door again. I’d undress and climb right back into bed, refusing to think, wanting only sleep.

  I’d been back for twelve days. The sun rose, and I sat at the kitchen counter drinking a cup of tea. At least I’d opened the blinds this morning.

  I shook my head, feeling pathetic.

  I’d leave the house today. I’d force myself to, even if just to go to the corner store and get much-needed groceries, teabags, and coffee, something besides crackers or pasta. Fresh fruit and vegetables.

  This wasn’t like me. It wasn’t who I was, or who I had been, at least. I’d never been afraid of anything or anyone in my life. And I didn’t fear Adam now. Not really. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. When he let darkness take control of him, it terrified me. But he wasn’t dark, not wholly. There was good in him. If there wasn’t, he wouldn’t have stopped, and I wouldn’t be here now.

  I shuddered at the thought.

  Dressed since before the sun had come up, I glanced at the door for the thousandth time. Today would be the day. It had to be.

  My phone rang, startling me. It sat on the other end of the counter, plugged into the wall, charging. I went to pick it up, noting the time. I’d already called work, making up an excuse for my absence, not sure they’d buy it but not caring. I’d texted friends back over the last few days. It was easier than talking. I made plans to meet them then canceled, feigning illness. They were too busy to be too concerned with me, anyway, and I wasn’t particularly close to anyone in the group. It probably had something to do with the fact I never invited anyone back to my home, and I was always aware of my lies. It had all started out so inconsequentially. Would they have cared that I didn’t struggle to make ends meet? That a career as a photographer was within reach for me without the necessity of earning enough to put food on the table? Or were all of those concerns in my head and mine alone?

  The phone rang for the fourth time. It would go to voice mail after the next one.

  Unplugging it from the charger, I glanced at the display, momentarily confused when I saw Nikki’s name.

  “Hello?” I said, picking it up.

  Someone sniffled then coughed hard.

  “Nikki? Is that you?” I hadn’t seen or talked to her in a month. I’d forgotten what had happened to her. I’d forgotten all about her. “Nikki?” I asked, my belly tightening, knowing this was bad.

  “It’s me,” she said, her voice quiet before the next round of coughing came.

  “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

  “I ran away. I’m sorry to call you, Elle. I know you have —”

  “What is it? Where are you?”

  “It’s just I didn’t have anyone else to call.” Her sentence ended in audible tears.

  “Are you hurt? Tell me where you are. I’m coming to pick you up.”

  “I’m at the gas station at Lubbock and 52nd. I’m in the bathroom.”

  “Okay, stay there. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Don’t come out until I get there.”

  “Okay.” More crying. “I’m really sorry, Elle.”

  “I’m going to hang up now. I’m coming, Nikki.”

  “Okay. Yes. Thank you.”

  I hit end, grabbed my coat and keys, and flew out the door, too determined to be afraid. My heart pounded faster as the elevator doors opened and I panicked I’d run into him, but it turned out I didn’t have to worry. The doors slid open, and two workmen stopped me from entering. I saw they’d covered all the surfaces with protective mats and furniture was stacked in tight.

  “Sorry, ma’am, freight elevator’s broken, and we need to get the penthouse moved.”

  “Moved?” Adam was moving?

  He nodded. “I’d invite you to ride down with us but there’s not any room.”

  “Who’s moving?” I looked at the chairs, not really remembering anything from Adam’s home.

  He shrugged a shoulder. “All I know is one is out and another tenant is coming in by the end of the day.” He rolled his eyes. “Demanding if you ask me.”

  “The man who lived there? He’s gone?”

  “That’s what it sounds like.”

  “Oh.” Why did it feel like the wind had been knocked out of me? Adam being gone meant I was safe. I wouldn’t run into him again.

  “I’m sorry. We’re on a tight schedule.”

  I nodded and turned to the stairs. My mind clouded with thoughts, my belly tight with emotion as I took the stairs down to the garage, my step slower than it had been moments ago, before I’d known I’d probably never see Adam Smith again.

  Almost all the spaces in the garage were taken. Well, all but where Adam’s motorcycle and truck had stood. Those and the one where I parked my bug. I wondered where it was, what he’d done with it. Was it still parked outside SafeHouse? I went a little farther and got in my Mini, starting it, setting my phone down on the seat beside me in case Nikki called again. I knew the gas station she meant. It was quite a walk from the neighborhood she worked. I wondered how she’d gotten there. Wondered what state she’d be in when I found her.

  Forcing thoughts of Adam out of my head, I drove to Nikki, choosing a route which would allow me to avoid SafeHouse. Although slightly ahead of the morning rush, it still took me almost thirty minutes to get to the gas station. Once there, I parked in front of the bathroom and climbed out of my car, taking a look around, the fear I’d felt when attempting to leave my house back again. Two cars stood at the pumps but, otherwise, there wasn’t anyone around.

  At the door, I knocked. “Nikki? It’s me.”

  I heard the lock turn and a stooped Nikki opened the door a crack. I sucked in a breath at the sight of her, one eye swoll
en shut, ringed in angry black. Another bruise at her forehead, a cut on her lip. She tried to straighten but stopped, clutching her stomach.

  “Nikki!” Taking her into my arms, I held her while she cried. She felt so small in my embrace, so fragile. She was only five foot two, but she seemed to have shrunk even more, to have become even skinnier than before. Her body shuddered, her skin feeling cold. I realized she had no coat, wore only a tank top with a miniskirt, her panty hose torn, the heel of one shoe lying on the floor.

  “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  She nodded. Her usually pretty face was beaten and bruised, the spark always there in her big brown eyes, in her smile, missing, replaced by fear. Her short blonde hair was dirty, and she smelled as though she’d gone several days without a shower.

  “We need to get you to the hospital.”

  She shook her head, stopping. “No. I can’t. I have no insurance. And I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”

  “Did Lenny do this to you?”

  “Who else?” she asked as I sat her in the passenger seat.

  I climbed into the car. “I won’t let him hurt you again.”

  “He was so mad. He locked me up, had this party…a retirement party he called it.” Tears made it impossible for her to continue.

  I glanced at her, my rage growing when I realized what she meant by party.

  “He was teaching me what happens when I disobey,” she managed.

  “We’re going to get him. I promise I won’t let him get away with this.”

  Nikki coughed again.

  “You need a doctor, Nikki.”

  She shook her head no. “I just need a hot bath and a safe bed.” She tried to smile up at me, but all I saw was her pain.

  “Okay. I’ll take you home with me. You’ll be safe there.”

  “Thank you, Elle,” she said, her hand on mine for a moment.

  I smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  I turned my attention back to the road, this time, purposely choosing the route by SafeHouse.

  I was safe. What had happened to me, what Adam had done, it was over. I was safe. He wasn’t going to hurt me. Seeing Nikki like this, having her call me because she had no one else, that was what I’d been doing, what I’d been working toward. All those photographs, my thoughts of an exposé, of unmasking the men who made what had happened to Nikki possible, that wasn’t what I wanted. It wasn’t my focus. No, my focus was her and girls like her. Like Nikki. Like Alessandra?

  I slowed as we approached SafeHouse. The building stood empty, the gate around it still locked, no workers there. It felt like what had happened to me in there had happened in another lifetime, it was so far away, so apart from me. But if I tried to force myself to think about my cell, I couldn’t. My mind blocked that out, and probably for the best. I kept driving, not stopping, noticing that my little bug was gone, although I didn’t expect it to still be there. Glancing at Nikki once more gave me strength. I needed to help her, to get her cleaned and fed, to help her heal. SafeHouse was a beautiful project. It was good. It was what I should have been working on all along.

  Once home, I locked the door behind us.

  “I don’t have any fresh groceries, but I’ll run out now. You can soak in the tub while I go for food. Then, after you eat something, you can sleep.”

  Nikki smiled, squeezing my hand. Inside, she looked around, following me, hobbling with the heel of one shoe missing. We stopped in the kitchen where I poured her a glass of water. She took it and drank, and we made our way to the bathroom where I ran a bath, checking the temperature, setting out towels and soaps.

  “I don’t want to use your good towels, Elle.”

  “What?”

  She seemed embarrassed and wouldn’t meet my eyes as she gave a nervous shake of her head. “I don’t want to mess them up.”

  I set the towels down and took her hands so she’d look at me. “Nikki, you aren’t going to mess anything up. You’re going to get into the tub, have a nice long soak, wash your hair, and just relax while I go out and get us some food. Then you’re going to lie down and get some sleep. We’ll figure out what we’re going to do about Lenny later.”

  Crying, she squeezed my hands. She nodded, obviously unable to speak.

  “Good.” I let her go and switched off the water once the tub was full. “I’ll be back soon. I’ll lock the door behind me. You’re safe here, okay?”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “No, really, Elle.” She squeezed my hands, her gaze boring into mine. “I mean it, thank you.”

  I nodded, smiling then left her there and went back out, taking the stairs to the lobby. The movers were busy, and I stopped at the mailboxes with the pretense of picking up my mail, noticing how Adam’s name had been removed from the mailbox. Not quite sure what I felt, knowing it wasn’t relief, I forced myself to turn, and walk out the door. Nikki needed me now. I needed to focus on taking care of her. I wasn’t sure if I was using her as a distraction, but it didn’t matter. I’d worry about that later.

  TAKING CARE OF NIKKI became full-time work. I quit my job at the studio, not that I’d been welcomed back after my absence. I had more important things to do and needed to make up for lost time now that I knew how. All I wanted to do was help her and women like her.

  I bought a new camera to replace the one Adam had smashed, glad to have had all of my photos backed up on my computer. I worked at putting together collages of their faces, focusing on the women themselves now, not on the johns, not on the pimps. They didn’t matter. I wanted to show the women, the victims, their strength. I volunteered at a shelter five days a week for the next three weeks, spending evenings at home with Nikki, avoiding being alone as much as possible.

  In the back of my mind lurked the nagging thought I’d had before Nikki had called, the idea I’d try to find out more about Adam’s sister, I’d go to Acosta and get her real last name out of him, but I pushed it aside, I pushed everything having to do with Adam aside. It was bad enough every time I parked my car in the garage or went to collect my mail I’d be reminded of him. I wouldn’t — I couldn’t — allow myself to think about him. About before he took me, about what happened when he locked me up. His cruelty in the background of his mercies, the desperate need to fold myself into his arms and bury my face in his neck, one I couldn’t feel anymore. It would choke me if I did. It would smother me in my sleep.

  Was this Stockholm Syndrome? It was the only thing I could chalk it up to. What I felt wasn’t normal. The man had kidnapped me, kept me prisoner, tortured me, and yet, I felt cold without him. Empty, alone, and cold.

  During her fourth week of her recovery, Nikki announced she was leaving. She felt well enough to pick up and carry on. I wondered if she realized she’d helped me as much as she thought I had helped her.

  Her bruises long gone, she looked like her old self, better even, healthier. She had more meat on her bones and seemed like a happy twenty-something, like she should.

  “The escort service wants me. I’ll start tonight, and I’ll be renting a room at a house of one of the other girls.”

  It wasn’t the news I’d wanted to hear. I guess I’d been hoping she’d get herself together and out of this business once and for all. I got it, though. It was all she knew, all she’d ever known. She had no college education — I was pretty sure she hadn’t graduated high school either. I just hoped this was safer than what she had been doing, although I wasn’t so sure.

  “You don’t have to go,” I said. “You can stay here as long as you want.”

  She stuffed the last of the few things she’d let me buy her into a duffel bag. “Nah.” She took my hands, the strength I saw in her eyes making me feel weak. Weak and lost. Again. “I gotta get on with my life, Elle. This is what I do. What I am. I’m not ashamed of it.”

  “Oh, no, it’s not…”

  She squeezed my hands, laughing. “I didn’t think you were judging me.” Her
smile warmed me. “You’ve been a really good friend. The best.” She choked up. “I wouldn’t have made it without you, Elle.”

  I hugged her, both of us on the verge of tears.

  “Just take care of yourself, okay?” I whispered.

  She pulled back. “You, too. You’re different. I’m not sure what happened to you but you’re different. Sad.”

  I felt my face crumple and struggled to get it under control, managing somehow.

  “Let me be a friend to you, huh? Talk to me,” she said.

  I nodded, but I couldn’t tell her, not yet.

  “When you’re ready then,” she said.

  “Thanks, Nikki.” I wondered who had saved whom.

  “Love you, Elle.”

  She walked out the door and I was alone again, all of the loneliness, the hopelessness I’d been able to keep at bay filling the space Nikki vacated, making me wrap my arms around myself as I shuddered, sitting on the couch in my empty apartment. I slid the cell phone out of my pocket and scrolled to the message Adam had sent, staring again at the text he hadn’t responded to and the one following it. That last one not yet delivered. He was gone, and that was a good thing. I just needed to figure out a way to move on.

  I didn’t wait until I lost the nerve to do it. I knew after Nikki left I could easily fall into the pattern of hiding, of sleeping all day and going out only when I absolutely had to. Instead, the next morning, I forced myself to drive to Dr. Acosta’s office. I parked in the garage at the medical office building in Lower Manhattan, my stomach in knots as I entered the lobby where people came and went, all going about their business. Double-checking the address I had with the board, I climbed onto the next elevator along with several other people and hit the button for the eighth floor. Blood thrummed in my ears, making me sweat as the elevator climbed, stopping twice to let people off and take on passengers. I was the only one to get off when the doors opened at eight and, with leaden feet, I made my way down the hall to suite 14A where his name stood engraved on the gold board outside.