by Lisa Bilbrey
Callum looked extremely unhappy as he returned, plopping down in the seat next to Elle. “Still no word, and according to Nurse Ratchet up there,” he gestured toward the triage desk, “we don’t need to keep asking. She’ll update us just as quick as she can.”
“Another bitch, huh?” Sadie snorted, shaking her head.
“Another?” Elle asked.
Sadie and Callum shared a look before she shifted in her seat so that she was facing Elle. “When we got here, Derek hadn’t been taken up to surgery. The doctor said we could have a minute alone with him, but I guess he didn’t realize that Callum and I were both his spouses. He didn’t say anything, but there was this look in his eyes, this tone in the way he spoke to us. I don’t know, he just seemed disapproving.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” Elle asked, dryly. “This fucking city. Thought it was supposed to be accepting of lesbians and gays, tolerant. Maybe we should move. Start over somewhere better.”
“Like where?” Callum asked.
“Like . . . I don’t know,” Elle murmured. “Alaska. Or Greenland. Or, hell, a private island off the coast of Fiji. We could afford that, right?”
“Oh, sure, no problem,” he chuckled. “But you could never leave, and you know it.”
“Why not?”
“Because you love the company too much to abandon it,” Sadie said, smiling when Elle shifted her attention to her. “Don’t deny it, either.”
“I can’t,” she agreed.
The doors to the emergency room opened and a tall, thin man with dark hair poking out from around his surgical cap walked out, pausing as he looked around the room. He spotted them just as Callum inhaled a deep breath.
“That’s Derek’s doctor,” he murmured, standing with Elle and Sadie in his arms.
The doctor pulled his surgical cap off and dragged his fingers through his hair as he stalked toward them.
“Is he okay?” Callum asked.
“Derek made it through the surgery just fine,” the doctor said, placing his hands on his hips. “We had to remove a small part of his liver, but thankfully, the liver grows back, so in a few months, he should be back to one-hundred percent.”
“Other than the ribs, what was broken, Doctor . . . ?” Elle asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“Peter Anisko,” he said, nodding his head in her direction. “And I’m assuming your family, Miss . . .?”
“Mrs., actually. Elle Davis, Derek’s other wife.”
“Ah, I see,” he said, before clearing his throat. “He has two broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder, both of which are minor compared to the damage to his liver. He has some cuts on his face and arms, but overall, I’d say he was damn lucky.”
“Lucky?” Elle snarled. “Lucky? He just had to have major abdominal surgery, he has broken ribs, he’s been battered, and he’s lucky?”
“He could have died,” Dr. Anisko quipped and took a step backward. “I’ll have a nurse let you know when you can see him.”
“Thank you,” Sadie said as he turned and walked away. She brought her hand up to the back of her neck and shifted her attention to Elle. “Kind of rude, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Elle knew Sadie was referring to her behavior, but she was done letting people pass judgement on her. There came a time when one had to man up or shut up, and she was done shutting up.
Eight
“Are you going to keep staring at me?” Derek asked, and Elle felt her cheeks warm. “Ugh, don’t blush! Not when I can’t do anything deliciously naughty to you!”
“Sorry,” she murmured, sucking the inside of her lip between her teeth to keep from smiling. “And I wasn’t staring at you, just watching you. You know, hoping to get another peek of your goods, if you know what I’m saying.”
Derek laughed, but then groaned as he clutched his stomach with his good hand. “Goddamn it.”
“I’m sorry,” Elle murmured, gripping her cane as she hobbled to the side of his bed.
“Not your fault.” Derek blew out a heavy breath, which told her just how much pain he was in. “Just gotta remember to stop being so fucking stupid.”
“Hey, you’re not stupid,” Elle chided and when he snorted, she glared at him. “You’re not!”
“Okay, so maybe not in the literal sense of the word, but I’ve already popped two of my staples. One more and doc is going to take me back under the knife and gut me like a fish. His words, not mine.”
Elle nibbled on her lip, unsure what to say. Three days had passed since he’d been in his accident, three days since he had major surgery, three days since someone tried to get at Elle by taking him out. Three fucking days.
“I don’t mean to be cranky,” Derek grumbled. “I’m just ready to go home.”
“Well, maybe today you will,” she said, though she knew the likelihood of that happening were slim. The doctor still hadn’t taken out his I.V., or cleared him to have more than a liquid diet. He’d only just been moved out of the ICU the day before, and Dr. Anisko was concerned about infection setting in.
“I miss the girls,” he said, quietly, lobbing his head in the direction opposite her. “They’re going to forget me.”
“No, they will not,” Elle insisted. “I’ll call Mom right now and have her bring them here if you want.”
Derek sighed, but shook his head. “They don’t need to see me like this. Broken and hurt. They’ll cry, and I can’t handle it when they cry.”
The door to Derek’s room opened and his parents Carlos and Felicia Flores entered. They had arrived just a few hours after Derek came out of surgery. Felicia cried and nearly threw herself onto her son’s body. If it hadn’t been for Carlos pulling her back, she might have. It always touched Elle when she saw how much they loved their children unconditionally.
“Oh, mijo, how are you feeling?” Felicia gushed, nearly pushing Elle out of the way as she attempted to fluff his pillow.
Elle bit back a wince as she stumbled out of the way. Felicia had been distant ever since the details surrounding Derek’s accident came out. Eye-witnesses reported seeing a black SUV speed up as it hit him on the Freeway. Derek’s car rolled twice before coming to a stop on its top. The car that hit him sped off and was later found by one of the local beaches.
It had been lit on fire, but the police managed to trace the car back to a couple out of Orange County, who reported it stolen two weeks prior. Whoever was after Elle had gone through a lot of trouble to stay hidden, and that scared her. Who would be so desperate to hurt her?
“Ma, stop,” Derek grumbled, reaching for Elle with his good arm. “And be careful. You almost knocked her down.”
“Oh.” Felicia shifted her attention to her. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Elle muttered, taking Derek’s hand. “I’m, um, I’m going to call Callum and Sadie. I’ll be right back.”
“Elle,” Derek called, but she waved him off and walked out of the room, down the hallway, and to an empty corridor.
She didn’t blame Felicia for being concerned, even angry, but they had always gotten along so well. Carlos and Felicia accepted their strange and unusual relationship without question when her own parents pushed her away. To feel the burden of her anger now had her heart aching.
“Elle.” The sound of Carlos calling her name had her shoulders tensing and when she looked back, she saw him standing at the corner. “Don’t let her get to you, sweetheart.”
“I’m not,” Elle lied, trying to smile. “Just letting her have some time alone with him.”
“Oh, you’re not a good liar,” he chuckled.
Elle sighed. “You’re right. I’m not a good liar. Never claimed to be.”
“She’s not angry with you,” he said, and when she shook her head, he said, “She’s not. She’s just scared.”
“Yeah?” Elle whimpered. “I am, too. I’m terrified because, once again, someone is pissed with me for something I don’t even know I’v
e done. Usually, they just come after me with their fists, or a gun, but this time — this time, they’re going after the people I care about,” she cried. “Thomas has been missing almost two weeks, Derek was almost killed . . . I wonder who they are going to target next. Cal, Sadie.” She paused. “You.”
“I can take care of myself,” he scoffed.
Elle rolled her eyes.
“I can!” he insisted.
“And Derek can’t?” she challenged.
“Not against a motor vehicle, sweetheart.”
“Or a gun,” she said, immediately thinking about Trixie.
Samuel had called every contact he had to get as much information about Trixie Maxwell, but there hadn’t been much. There was no record of her being released, but there wasn’t any record of her still being incarcerated, either.
“What are you going to do?” Carlos asked. “Hide? That’s what you did when that loco perra came after you. Did it help, sweetheart?”
“No,” she admitted, inwardly laughing at him calling Trixie Maxwell a crazy bitch. “No, it didn’t help, but at least when she was after me, I knew who to watch out for. With this perra, as you called them, I don’t know who to fear. Could be someone from the company, or one of our clients, or the guy who mans the coffee cart in the lobby. Hell, it could be the homeless man down the street!”
“Wow,” Carlos chuckled. “You’ve really put some thought into this, haven’t you?”
“It’s all I think about. Who and how to stop them. If I can.”
“You can,” he said.
“How many lives do I get?” she asked, wiping a tear off her cheek. “Sooner or later, someone is going to kill me.”
Carlos frowned, but didn’t say anything as he turned and walked away from her. He knew she was right, that she was living on borrowed time. There were only so many psychopaths one person could handle and still live to tell about it.
—FA—
When Elle finally returned to Derek’s hospital room, she saw a bouquet of red roses on the floor in front of the door. Curious, she picked them up, expecting to see Derek’s name on the card, but it wasn’t. Her name was. She cradled the roses between her arm and body as she slipped the small envelope out and pulled the card.
She inhaled a sharp breath as she read it: Meet me at the Shadowbrook Inn, room 133, and no one else has to get hurt, whore.
“Elle.”
Startled, Elle crumbled the card into a ball and shifted her attention down the hallway where Callum and Sadie were walking toward her.
“Sorry it took us so long.” Sadie huffed, brushing her long red hair out of her face. “Flora started crying, which set Willow off. They begged us to bring them up to see Derek. Should we?”
“No, we’ve already agreed that seeing him like this would just scare them more.” Callum leaned over and kissed Elle. “Who are those from?”
“Oh, um, me,” she lied. “I thought he deserved something pretty.”
Callum chuckled. “Did you now? You don’t think you and Sadie are pretty enough?”
“She is,” Elle quipped and before they could argue with her, she shoved the roses into his arms and started hobbling away. “Need the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” Callum said, frowning while Sadie just watched her walk away.
Elle pretended to go toward the bathroom, but the minute they were inside Derek’s hospital room, she made a beeline for the elevator. It was stupid and dangerous, but she couldn’t sit back and wait for the other shoe to drop, either. Too many people had already gotten swept up in the middle of this bullshit, she wouldn’t risk anyone else.
Elle managed to hail a cab outside of the hospital. She googled the address for the Shadowbrook Inn and rattled it off to the driver before tucking her phone back into her pocket. Callum, Sadie, and Derek were going to be pissed with her for going, for not telling them about the note, for not just calling the police and letting them handle it. She should — that she knew, but she was done hiding behind everyone else.
Twenty minutes later, the cab pulled up in front of a ratty hotel on the edge of the city that looked like nobody had been there in a solid decade, or two. She climbed out of the back and dug some cash out of her back pocket, tossing it to the driver.
“Are you sure you want me to leave you here? This place doesn’t look safe,” he said, taking the cash and dropping it into this money bag.
“Yeah,” Elle once again lied. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for the ride.”
“Hmm, okay.”
Elle stepped back from the cab and waited until he had driven away before she turned and faced the inn again. Once upon a time, she imagined this place was quite the retreat. Outside of the city, away from the hustle and bustle of city life. But now, it lacked serious curb appeal. The windows to the office were busted out, someone had spray painted obscenities on the walls. It smelled of rot and mold.
Elle tightened the grip on her cane as she limped past the front office, down the stone pathway, and to the first set of rooms. Rooms one hundred through one ten. Blowing out a deep breathing, she continued until she found room one thirty-three.
Just as she reached for the knob, the door creaked open just an inch. Her heart was racing as she pushed it open. The room was dark, and the small amount of light around her didn’t help.
“Hello,” she called, placing her hand on the frame as she stepped over the threshold. “I’m here.”
Nothing but silence surrounded her, so she slid her hand along the wall, searching for the light switch, but of course, the electricity didn’t work. Why would it? The place had been abandoned after all.
“Hello,” she said again, not that she expected someone to reply. This was a game to them, a fun, sadistic game.
Elle sighed and turned to leave, when she heard a thump coming from inside the bathroom. She paused and looked back before taking the handful of steps to the closed door. Her hands were shaking as she wrapped her fingers around the brass knob and turned it slowly. A loud screeching noise echoed throughout the room and she winced inwardly for bringing more attention to herself. With a tight grip on her cane, she pushed the door open.
Though the room was dark, she could make out the silhouette of someone inside the room, but they weren’t moving.
“Who are you?” she asked, digging her phone out of her back pocket.
Her fingers fumbled to find her flashlight app and switch it on. When she did, a scream trickled from between her lips because laying in the bathtub with ropes tied around his torso, blood dripping from the front of his forehead, a gag stuffed into his mouth, and his eyes wide and filled with fright was Thomas.
Nine
For a split second, Elle couldn’t move. All she could do was stand in the doorway, staring at her friend.
“T . . . Thomas?” she cried, her phone and cane slipping out of her hands as she dropped to her knees and crawled over to him. It wasn’t until she reached for the gag in his mouth that she noticed her hands were covered in blood. “Oh, my God, Thomas.”
She managed to unclasp the gag and dropped it onto the floor, but the ropes were too tight for her to budge.
“What happened?”
“I . . . I . . .” But Thomas shook his head, his eyes closing, and he slumped into the tub.
“Thomas?” Elle called, shaking his shoulders. “Thomas!”
But he wouldn’t respond. She turned and grabbed her phone, her fingers trembling as she called 911.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“I need the police and an ambulance to the Shadowbrook Inn on highway 101,” Elle whimpered. “Room one thirty three. Please hurry.”
“I’ve dispatched them now. Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“I’ve found Thomas Warner. He’s hurt. He passed out. Please, just tell them to hurry.”
“They’re on their way, ma’am. Can you tell me the extent of his injuries?”
“Um,” Elle shifted her attention back to Thomas.
“He’s bleeding from his head, there are a lot of bruises on his face, his neck from what I can see. But I can’t really see much else because it’s dark.”
“Okay, help is two minutes away, honey, you should be able hear them soon.”
“Okay, thank —” But before she could finish thanking the dispatcher, intense pain filled her head as something hard and heavy collided with the back of her head. Elle fell forward, looking over her shoulder as her attacker fled the bathroom.
“Ma’am? Ma’am?”
Elle could hear the dispatcher calling for her. She grabbed her phone from the floor, tears of pain and fear filled her eyes as she whispered, “He’s here.”
“Who’s here?”
“Hurry,” Elle murmured before dropping her phone onto the floor, leaning against the side of the tub, and grabbing a hold of Thomas, needing to make sure he was okay.
The police and paramedics arrived moments later. They dragged Elle out of the room, setting her on the bed. One of the paramedics tended to the wound on the back of her head, while the other three tended to Thomas. Police were scattered everywhere.
When they finally got some light into the room, Elle struggled to keep the bile from falling from her mouth. The room was splattered with blood. The walls, the ceilings, the floor. Moldy and half-eaten fruit, meat, and veggies covered the tables and dresser. The bed smelled like someone had pissed all over it and had splatters of blood on it, as well.
Elle’s attention was pulled to the bathroom as the paramedics rolled the stretcher from inside. Thomas had been strapped down. It was then that she realized that he’d been naked under the ropes. The top of his chest could be seen, though the rest of him was covered with a white sheet that was already seeping crimson blood. Red, angry cuts and welts could be seen on his skin.
“Thomas,” Elle cried, trying to reach for him, but the paramedics rushed him out of the room.
“Easy, ma’am.”
Detectives Benson and O’Reilly entered the room just seconds after Thomas cleared the doorway. They paused and looked around before their eyes came to rest on her. She could feel the judgement radiating off of them, not that she cared.
