After I explore him, a condom goes on and before I know it, he’s sinking deep inside me. I try not to think about if Lily went this far with him. It’s so fucked up and I don’t want to think about it—I don’t want to think.
So I don’t.
We rock together in rhythm, driving each other to the edge, fingers delving into each other’s flesh, crying out each other’s names, begging for more. River is as equally rough as me and I start to understand a little, why he might have not cared when Lily hurt him. I think he might like the pain as much as I do. It makes me wonder why. But not for very long because then we’re coming. Together, nails scratching his skin apart, panting, breathless, covered in sweat. It takes me a little while to return to reality and realize what I did. How rough I was. How sickened I am because I liked it, how alarmed and subdued I feel at the moment.
I knew you had it in you. You’re becoming so much like me anymore. Soon you’ll only be me.
She’s right. I do have it in me. The bad. I can admit that now. And it’s terrifying and enthralling. As River’s trying to settle down, I climb off his lap and reach for the drawer, ready to push my bad out some more.
“What are you doing?” he asks, breathless, I pick up a set of handcuffs and the key to them.
His brows knit and his lips part in protest, but before he can do anything, I clip one to a handle on a filing cabinet right by the chair and one to his wrist. At first I think he thinks I want a kinky round two, but when I pick up my skirt and put the keys into my pocket, his amusement turns to alarm.
“What are you doing?” he asks as I collect up my bra and panties from the floor and put them on.
“I’m leaving,” I say, slipping on my shirt and skirt, noting there’s music playing downstairs. The bar must have opened.
He glances down at his wrist and then jiggles it, causing one of the drawers to the filing cabinet to jerk open. “Why did you handcuff me then?”
I shrug, picking up his pants and chucking them to him. “You might want to put those on, so when you’re found, it’ll make the situation a little less awkward.”
He glares at me. “Maddie, unlock me now.”
I shake my head, flipping my hair out of the collar of my shirt. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“Where the fuck could you possibly be going that you would have to cuff me up?” He wrenches his arm, the metal making a loud band, and I can tell that he’ll probably break the handle before too long.
I back toward the door, picking up my shoes from the floor. “Somewhere.”
“Please let me go,” he begs, tugging on the handcuff again and nearly tipping the cabinet over. “I’m worried about you and I want to help… just let me go and I’ll help.”
I slip on one of my boots as I keep walking backward, my eyes fastened on him. “I can take care of myself.”
“No you can’t,” he says firmly, struggling to get to his feet but manages to and the filing leans foward. “And locking me up isn’t going to stop me from wanting to help you.”
“I don’t take help from anyone,” I say, putting my other boot on, but I trip in the process and stumble into another filing cabinet in the corner, causing a huge stack of papers to fall to the floor. “And I think you’ll get the picture after this,” I say, starting to kick some of the papers out of the way, but freeze when I see my name on a lot of them.
This is what you were looking at, weren’t you?
Pick it up and see.
I bend down and pick one up. Rivers handwriting is scrawled over it, lines and lines of rushed notes.
“Maddie, don’t touch that,” River pleads, pulling hard on the handcuff and the cabinet shifts again, almost toppling over. “Please, it’s for your own good.”
I read the paper that’s in my hand. “Maddie’s Asherford is an interesting girl. One I’d like to get to know and crack open and that’s why I’m choosing to do my thesis on her.” I stare at the paper, not even glancing up when I hear a loud thud from in front of me. “She doesn’t quite fit into society and the other day when I was talking to her, she zoned out for a very long time and start whispering something about hearing voices. When she came to, she couldn’t remember doing it and carried on the conversation as if nothing happened.”
“Maddie, please don’t—”
“She referred to herself the other day in the third person and there was a moment where it seemed like she’d turned into someone else. Her posture changed. Her voice did as well. She looked at me different too, but then she must have snapped out of it. I did a little research on her and her past is very interesting—very scarred and dark. She’s done some time in an institution. I’m not even sure if she knows half the stuff she’s been through, but I want to find out if she does.” River calls my name, but it’s faint, barely existent as I turn the page over. “I found out last night that Maddie has multiple personality disorder. I met her alter ego who goes by the name of Lily. She was only out for a while, but she seemed very different from Maddie. More cold and uncaring. Darker, probably created because of her horrible past. In fact, I was a little bit afraid of her. I’d really like to study her, too and see how she acts in society compared to Maddie herself. I just need to get close to her, but it’s complicated when she’s so guarded. But I have a few experiments I’m going to try with her, too see how Lily comes out, who she is and how she differs from Maddie. I’m also getting some outside help and if this all works out, I should have a fairly good paper in the end.”
“This is why you want to help me?” I look up at him, gripping the paper tightly in my hand. “Because I’m insane and you want to study me and do experiments on me.” My voice burns with anger and I’m tremulous, not with fear but with wrath.
He’s managed to drag the filing cabinet over far enough that he’s close enough to me I can see the horror in his eyes. “You’re not insane. I don’t believe that for one minute otherwise I wouldn’t be in here with you.”
“Why are you in here with me?” I ball up the paper and chuck it to the floor. “To study me some more?” I step forward, ready to hurt him. Make him pay in ways I didn’t even know where possible. I discover in this moment just how sickening my mind is. Pain, it can come from more ways than my mind can grasp. “Did you even tell the police what you said you did or was that a lie? Were you hoping to get me here so I’d confess that I killed Sydney or something and you could write it in your paper?” My eyes widen. “Did you break into my house the other night, hoping to see her?” Was that what happened? Was it him?
“Break into your house… what the hell are you talking about?” He looks baffled, but River might be just as good as a liar as I am.
Told you.
You did. I should have listened to you.
River shakes his head as he moves toward me, reducing the space between us and dragging the filing cabinet with him. His wrist is starting to bleed from the cuff but he seems unbothered by it. “I don’t think for one second you did anything to Sydney. It’s not in your nature.”
“And what about Lily?” I challenge, stepping back toward the doorway otherwise I’m going to go toward him and do something I’ll regret.
His brows dip together. “What about her?”
I reach the doorway. “Is it in her nature?”
He doesn’t answer, staring at me as if he’s trying to unravel my thoughts. “I’m not sure yet, but I want to help you find out…. You know it’s not your fault—what she does. You’re two different people, just stuck in the same body. And the things that happened to you in your past… it’s totally understandable.”
“You know nothing about my past!” I shout, surprising the both of us.
“Yes I do,” he insists, giving the cuff another tug. “And if you’ll just uncuff me, I’ll tell you everything I know.”
“You really think I’m stupid enough to believe you?” I shake my head, turning my back on him and rushing out the doorway before I can act out on my need to hurt him. Or worse, tru
st him.
He calls out my name a few times, but I don’t look back. I jog down the stairs, ready to get the hell out of here. I just want to run away. From everything. And what did he even mean about my past? What does he know that I don’t? I pause at the bottom of the stairway. Should I go back and press him for more?
No, you can’t trust him.
I can’t trust myself.
I step out of the stairway and into the bar. It’s not peaking hour so it’s only about half full, a few guys getting lap dances, soft music playing from the stereo. There’s a waitress at the counter. I’m not even sure what her name is, but it hurts me to see someone else there besides Bella. She’s counting out some one dollar bills, stacking them on the counter and glances up at me, giving me a dirty look. “Why are you here?”
“I’m not sure,” I say, checking the stairway to make sure River hasn’t escaped yet.
She gives me another nasty look. “You know, River may think it’s okay for you to be here, but no one else wants you around.” She puts the stack of ones in the register and shuts it. “Hopefully Leon will fire you soon.”
“Leon fire me?” I question. “He can’t do that. Only Glen can.”
“Yeah, he can. He’s in charge of the bar now,” she says haughtily. “Has been for the last couple of weeks while Glen’s been gone on vacation.”
I glance around the bar, looking for him. Maybe seeing his face will spark a memory. “Is he here now?”
“Nope.” She pauses, collecting the one dollar bills from off the counter. “And aren’t you supposed to be sick or something? That’s why you haven’t been to work right? Or are you hiding from what you did to Sydney?”
So word has gotten around. Vomit burns at the back of my throat but I force myself to remain strong. “Yeah, I was just stopping by to pick up my paycheck.”
“Sure you were,” she says snidely as she drops the bills into the register.
There’s a bang from the stairway and when I turn around I expect to see River there. But instead there’s a guy with dark hair that matches his eyes wearing a black shirt and stone washed jeans, his arms covered in tattoos. One is of a dragon breathing flames across his flesh that I’m pretty sure I’ve seen before… I think I’ve seen more of him before.
His gaze is on the dance floor, but it shifts to me and a small smile touches his face. “Maddie.”
I’m speechless and thankfully the waitress speaks first. “Hey Leon,” she says, reaching for a cup. “We’re running low on chicken wings.”
Leon. That’s Leon. And I’ve met him before… more than once, but where?
His gaze remains on me and I can’t help but think how Bella told me about how he used to be into drug trafficking. “I’ll get some more ordered,” he says, still staring at me. I tell myself that it’s because he’s going to fire me, right here, right now, but when he gives me a friendly nod and then heads off for the stage area, I’m left scratching my head.
I decide it’s time to bail and hurry out from behind the counter, bursting out the front door outside and into the rain. I start across the parking lot, wrapping my jacket tighter around me as rain soaks through my clothes. I have my head tucked down, determined to get the hell out of there without being seen by anyone else, when I hear my name being called out.
“Maddie.”
“God, what now?” I keep walking away, puddles splashing all over my legs, hair soaked. Maybe if I move quickly enough, I can outrun him.
“Lily.”
I stop dead in my tracks. Fuck.
Grinding my teeth, I turn around. Detective Bennerly is standing near a black car, smoking a cigarette and holding an umbrella. He has a long trench coat on, the collar pulled up, like he’s desperately trying to play the part of detective. I’m hesitant to go over to him, but at the same time it’ll probably look bad if I don’t, so I amble over to his car, stopping just short of him.
“It’s Maddie,” I remind him. “I don’t go by Lily anymore.”
He takes a long drag of his cigarette and he ashes it, eyes fixated on me. “Sorry, but you weren’t answering to Maddie, so I thought I’d give it a try.”
“I didn’t hear you the first time,” I say as he stands up straight and steps toward me, moving the umbrella with him and positioning it over both of our heads. I wipe the water from my forehead and cheeks, chattering from the cold. “Did you need something?”
It takes him a second to answer and the whole time his eyes are on me. “Do you want a ride?” he asks, throwing me off guard.
I quickly shake my head and begin to step back. “No thanks. I can take the bus.”
“Let me give you a ride,” he insists. It’s not a request but an order.
I reluctantly nod and he gestures for me to get in. I climb into the passenger seat while he gets into the driver’s, putting away his umbrella before he closes the door. He starts up the engine and then cranks up the heat. “Where are you headed?” he asks, ruffling his hand through his hair in an attempt to dry it.
I was planning on going to see Ryland, get a break from this, and maybe hide out for a while, but now I have no choice but to go to one place. “Home.”
He nods and then backs out of the parking space. “You know the police were called out to your place today,” he says as he cranes the wheel and turns onto the road with the windshield wipers on high as the rain pours down from the cloudy sky.
I buckle my seatbelt. “Huh? Why?”
He glances at me. “You don’t know?” he asks and I shake my head. “Oh, your mother said it was because of you... that you set the alarm off.” He slows to stop at a stoplight. “She seemed a little upset about it.”
“That’s just how she is,” I explain, getting the feeling that this is more than just a ride home. “She worries about me all the time.”
“I wonder why that is?” he asks, pressing on the gas when the light turns green.
I shrug. “I don’t know. Probably because I got hit by a car and lost my memory,” I suggest. “That can make a person worry.”
“How old are you, though?” he asks, but I can tell he already knows. He just wants to hear me say it.
I answer anyway. “Twenty-one.”
“That’s a little old for your mother to still be worrying about you so much. Don’t you think?” he questions, flipping his headlights on.
“I completely agree with you,” I say, rotating in my seat to face him. I think about telling him I’m moving out, to show some maturity, but that also would probably make him a little suspicious. “Detective, what’s this really about?”
“What do you mean?” he asks, his expression guarded, making it impossible to read him.
“I mean, you showing up at the bar when I’m there and then offering to give me a ride home,” I say. “I’m guessing that it’s not a coincidence.”
“It’s not,” he replies, steering the car down the side road that leads to my house. “I was there because your mother said you went to work—that’s why the alarm went off.” He pauses. “But by the amount of time you were in the bar, I don’t think that was why you were there.”
“Have you been following me?” I ask. Calm down.
He shrugs, reaching to adjust the heat. “I happened to show up just as you were going inside,” he says. “So I waited to see how long you were in there.”
“I was picking up my paycheck,” I lie without missing a beat.
The Forgotten Girl Page 15
