Dark Mysteries

by Jessica Gadziala

  "Then run inside," K said, sounding a little more worked up than usual. "Barrel into that front door and scream like fucking murder. Go. You're almost safe. Keep going."

  Then, like a beautiful miracle, three men came out of the store, one pushing a shopping cart loaded down with beer. They were in their thirties, fit, attractive, dressed like there was a game on somewhere that they were going to watch together.

  She could barely make out the numbers on their shirts, but she was screaming at the top of her lungs, begging for help. She's being chased. Help her.

  All three of them looked up at her, frozen for a second, taking it in, figuring it out. But when they saw her, saw a man right behind her, they started forward, one of them reaching for his phone, quickly dialing and putting the phone to his ear.

  Her saviors.

  But then there was Bobby, hopping out of a car, taking out the one in the lead, slamming a bat into his back. Ellie watched as he crumbled to the ground, groaning, holding his back.

  "No," she gasped, watching things around her like a horror movie, feeling oddly detached. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. Then there was someone else coming out of a car and making a grab for the second guy, throwing a fist right toward the good Samaritan's nose. He yelled out, falling to his knees, clutching his face. And then the man kicked outward, sending the man spiraling and he turned.

  Jason. From the bus station. He sent her an evil smile, saluting her, before turning to the third man.

  "No," she said again, coming to a stop next to a car.

  "What the fuck is going on?" K shouted in her ear. "Ellie please. Talk to me. Ellie!"

  There was no way she was getting away. She knew that with a certainty that sent a cold chill down her body. She was done. She was done running. She was done waking up with nightmares. Because her life was going to be a nightmare. She was going to be taken back to Nick's.

  The realization made her turn to the sound of Nick's footsteps behind her. She took a breath. Knowing it was only going to hurt her in the long run. She would pay for it. Dreadfully. But she didn't care. She was beyond caring. She was beyond reason. She was beyond self-preservation. She was beyond hoping for survival.

  In a strange, detached, hopeful way... she wished for death.

  She spread her legs, cocking her arm back. He was still running at her. Good. It would hurt more. Just when he was close enough, she swung with every ounce of power in her body. She watched as the baton made contact. She heard it make a sick, cracking sound as it slammed into his face right under his left eye an across the bridge of his nose.

  His hands flew up. He screamed.

  But he recovered quickly. And he looked up at her, smiling wickedly.

  And she knew it for what it was. A promise. She was going to pay.

  "K," she said, desperately. She needed to get it out before he got her. "K, I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you..."

  And then the phone was falling as she felt a pain, sharp and crushing, toward the back of her head.

  And she knew nothing but blackness.

  The phone fell to the ground, K's voice a wild, animalistic scream. "Ellie! Ellie!"

  But then the phone crashed, shattering apart on the concrete next to Ellie's crumpled body.

  Nineteen

  Xander flew into his office, slamming the door so hard the glass cracked. He wasn't a violent person. He had carefully caged away that adolescent side of himself years ago. But he found himself grabbing the coffee cup off his desk and hauling it at the wall. Next went the trash can. Then the computer.

  Several minutes later, he was huffing, standing with the mess around his feet. It didn't help. He felt like he was crawling out of his skin, like he needed to rip himself open to feel some relief.

  "Hey man what the fuck..." Gabe started, opening the door. He froze, looking around, taking in the mess. Watching Xander whose face was all hard lines, his fists clenching and un-clenching, his breathing heavy. "What's going on?"

  Xander grabbed for the note, flinging it toward Gabe. "She's fucking gone," Xander ground out between clenched teeth.

  Gabe stooped down, picking up the paper, and carefully reading it. "Damn," he said, shaking his head. "She really loves you, huh?"

  "What?" Xander said, spinning to face his friend. He was feeling explosive, like a bomb that was bound to go off.

  "She loves you," Gabe shrugged, holding out the paper. "This Jane Eyre quote... she loves you."

  "She just likes her stupid quotes," Xander said, running a hand down his face. "She has a ton of then scribbled in those books."

  "Yeah, but she wrote this one to you. In her goodbye letter..."

  "What does the letter matter?" Xander asked, reaching for it, needing it, needing the piece of her. "She's gone."

  Gabe took a deep breath. It needed to be done. He had to tell him. And he had a sneaking suspicion that it was going to end up with him getting his ass handed to him for keeping it from him in the first place. Hell, he deserved it.

  "Dude," Gabe said, shaking his head. "I have something to tell you about Ellie..."

  "Do you know where she went? Did you see her leave?" Xander asked, a small bud of hope blooming in his chest. Maybe there was hope. Maybe he could find her.

  "No, man," Gabe said, moving inside, gesturing toward the desk. Xander rolled his eyes and went to sit down behind it. Gabe found the metal folding chair, picked it up off the floor, and sat down on it.

  "So..." Xander said, feeling a little calmer.

  "Her name is Eleanor Piotrowski. She..."

  "What. The. Fuck. Gabe?" Xander seethed, slamming his fist down on the table. So much for calmer. His throat felt like it was on fire. "How long have you know this?"

  Gabe tensed. He knew it wasn't going to go over well, but maybe he had expected better. Something was up. With Xander. With Ellie. With their situation. Because Xander might be hot-headed at times, but not irrationally so. "Since I met her. I know," he said, holding up a hand, stopping Xander from saying whatever it was he was about to say. "I know. But I told her I wouldn't tell you."

  "So, she knew you knew... what the hell has been going on underneath my nose?"

  Gabe felt himself smiling slightly, shaking his head. "Faith knew too," he said, figuring it was best to just get it all out there. At Xander's disbelieving face, he nodded. "Yeah. Faith knew a lot more than she let on to you. Hell, the other day, she even made Vin let Ellie into his panic room when some shithead was chasing her."

  "Okay," Xander said, taking a slow, deep breath, holding up a hand. "I need this from the beginning."

  "Right," Gabe said, nodding, able to deal with this side of Xander better. Calm, calculating, private investigator. "Her name is Eleanor Piotrowski. She was from Jersey. Her father was a detective."

  "Am I going to need to pry it out of you?" Xander rolled his eyes. "Just spit it out already."

  "Dude, she dated Nicola Russo."

  The color drained out of Xander's face. He swore his heart stopped in his chest. "What?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

  "Yeah," Gabe said, shaking his head. "She was a kid. Eighteen. He promised her all kinds of things. And then he slowly isolated her from her family and friends..."

  "Fuck," Xander said, knowing where this story was going.

  "And then he started beating her. When she tried to run about a year into dating him, he dragged her back and threw her in a cell in his basement. Left her chained there by her wrists for weeks. Tortured her. Made her lose the baby she was carrying. Let her almost die of infection..."

  Xander was shaking his head. No. No fucking way. No. That couldn't be her story. But he knew that it was. He knew that she had suffered. She had told him herself. At the hands of some jackoff glorified drug dealer in Jersey.

  "He killed her father as retribution..."

  "Jesus," Xander said, leaning forward and burying his face in his hands.

&n
bsp; "But she got away. She got away and she survived and she ran. She found her way here..."

  "And I couldn't save her. So, she had to save herself," Xander concluded, full of an overwhelming feeling of worthlessness. It was weird. Like sinking. Like drowning. But without the blissful death at the end.

  "No," Gabe shook his head, even though he wasn't looking. "No. She left because she loved you. Because she didn't want anything to happen to you because of her. Because she's learned that Nicola kills anyone she cares about. She couldn't live with that. So she left. To save you."

  "I can't..." Xander started.

  But then the door flew open, bouncing against the wall, the already broken glass shattering to the ground. And there stood K. His eyes were wild, frantic. A phone was clutched in his hands.

  "He has her," he shouted, looking like he wanted to pace, lunge, hit someone.

  "What?" Xander said, his chest feeling suddenly hollow. "What are you talking about?" Xander said, standing up so quickly his chair overturned.

  "He has her. I heard them struggling. And then the line went dead. He found her. He found her and he has her."

  "No," Xander said, shaking his head. No. No that couldn't happen. She was too good. Too smart. Too safe.

  "Yes," K said, trying to calm down, trying to pull himself together. From the looks of his office, Xander was already worked up. So he needed to be in control of himself. He needed to drag Xander out of his own rage, get him on board. He took a breath before speaking again, his tone deceptively clear and controlled. "Xander, Nick has her. We need to do something."

  "Okay," Gabe broke in, standing up, holding his hands out. "Everyone needs to calm down. I am guessing," he said, looking at K, "that you are the guy from Seattle. The one who taught her everything she knows about surviving."

  "K," he said, nodding.

  "Alright, K. Tell us exactly what happened today."

  "I got a call," he said, looking between them. "I was expecting it. She calls when she is safe. We discuss the next step. She was in Hartford. Was considering going to Boston next. Everything was fine. But then I heard a voice with her..." he took a breath, remembering the pit of fear he had felt then. It was like nothing he had ever known before. Not like in all his fights. Not like when he had his own life to try to defend. Nothing had come close to the feeling her had for Ellie's attacker finding her. "And I told her to run. And she did. But I think she panicked because she took off down a highway and away from populated areas. She ran forever. Ten minutes. Fifteen. I don't know. Then she said there was a building. She ran to it. And then she must have seen people. Men. They were men. And she screamed for help. And they helped," he said, closing his eyes. God bless them. "But Nick must have had people with him. I heard hitting and yelling. Ellie had just... stopped running. I guess she was in shock. Or there was no escape. I don't know. But then..." he closed his eyes, feeling sick.

  "And then?" Gabe pressed, not caring about being sensitive. They needed the facts.

  "Then she hit him. With something."

  "A baton," Xander finally cut in, his voice hollow. "My baton."

  "She hit him and he yelled. And then," he took another steadying breath, "then she just starting telling me she loved me over and over and over like..."

  "Like she thought she would never get a chance to say it again," Xander said, looking down at his hands.

  K nodded. "And then there was a crack. And the phone fell. That's it. That's all. I don't... I need help. I need to help her and I can't do it alone."

  Xander was deceptively quiet, sitting with his face buried in his hands. He needed to detach. He needed to stop thinking about it as Ellie. Beautiful, perfect Ellie. It was just a client, a no one, someone just like the hundreds he had dealt with before who got their asses kicked in alleys or got their kneecaps broken. People who needed his help.

  He couldn't picture it as Ellie shackled up in that basement room, watching her attacker, knowing what she was in for, knowing he was going to push her toward death and then drag her back.

  No. That wasn't going to help. It was just a person. A nameless, faceless person who needed to get dragged out of a bad situation. He had dealt with gangs, crooked cops, the mob. It didn't matter that it was Nicola Russo.

  "Alright," he said, taking a deep breath. "We need to make a plan."

  "We need to go," K said, his voice desperate.

  "We will," Xander said, moving into the apartment, waving them with him. He walked over to the coffee machine, filling it and turning it on. They were going to need it.

  They didn't sit down. Xander stood, his back pressed against the refrigerator. K paced on and off toward the front of the room. Gabe seemed the most relaxed, holding one of Ellie's books in his hands, flipping to read the quotes she had written down, one hand on the back of a dining chair. All of them were silent. Thinking. Planning. Trying to come up with the cleanest way to go about it.

  The coffee machine beeped and he handed them each a cup, steaming, black, strong. It was like a punch to the system each time they took a sip.

  "Okay," Xander said, breaking the silence. "K, what do you know about Nicola?"

  "I mostly know about what he did to her," K said, looking sad, disgusted. "I know he's a drug dealer..."

  "He's one of Jersey's biggest drug dealers," Gabe said, shutting the book, but holding onto it. "He's the one who is causing all the overdoses here. They say it's because the heroine is too strong, but there are rumors around that he's lacing it with something else."

  "Right," Xander said, thumbing through his notes about the overdoses. "Where does he live?"

  "Trenton," K and Gabe said at once.

  Xander looked at them. Gabe shrugged. "I was doing a jumper with a friend. One of Nick's enforcers, Antony. That's how I knew about Ellie. Antony and Nicola were really close. And wherever Nicola was, so was Ellie... bruises and all."

  "Do you know where in Trenton?"

  "I mean... no. He did most of his business in parks. In restaurants..." Gabe trailed off, thinking. "Don't you know a guy on the force who would look it up for you?"

  Xander shrugged. "Maybe." It really depended on the day, on the case, on his mood. "I'll give him a call," he said, moving into the office.

  Alone, Gabe looked at K. "She's in love with him," he told him.

  K snorted. "About as much as he's in love with her, I imagine," K said, feeling once again for Ellie. No wonder she was so flustered, so confused. She was running, for the first time, to protect someone other than herself. "It doesn't seem to be clouding his judgment though," he said, thankful for his clear-headedness.

  "Not now," Gabe said, finally putting the book down, "but when we get there, when we see her, see what she's gone through..."

  K nodded. He knew that feeling. The coiled beast of outrage in his own stomach was going to be hard to control.

  "We're probably going to need to drag him out of there before he does something stupid."

  "Alright," Xander said, walking back in the room. Calm. He was so freakishly calm it almost worried them. "Bad news," he said, walking over to his coffee and draining it. "He had an address, but it linked back to a house that was sold about two years ago."

  "So he might not even be in Trenton anymore," Gabe said, sighing.

  "No, he wouldn't leave. That's where his business is," Xander said.

  "So we go to Trenton. Ask some questions. Knock some heads together if we need to," K shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world. "We'll get an address."

  Xander nodded. It was their best best. They could sit around in his office twiddling their thumbs for hours, days, and turn up nothing. It was better to get closer. He walked over to his closet, grabbing a handful of weapons and dropping them all on the dining table. "Take your pick," he said, reaching for a stun gun and handcuffs.

  "I'm taking these," Gabe said, holding up the brass knuckles, "for sentimental reasons. I have more stuff at my office,"
he said, watching K look over the selection.

  "I prefer my hands," K shrugged.

  Xander rolled his eyes, slipping a knife into his back pocket. "Take something. They're going to be armed."

  K sighed, grabbing a knife and a baton.

  "Alright," Xander said, nodding, "let's get one of your trucks and get going."

  They followed him into the office, Gabe letting out a shrill whistle. "You gotta do something about this place."

  Gabe went in his desk, grabbing the gun and tucking it into his jeans, ignoring the raised eyebrow K was giving him. He reached for a stash of cash. "Fine," he said, walking into the street and yelling at the group of teens hanging around outside. "You're going to sit in here and watch my office," he told them and watched them look at one another. He pulled out the wad of money and waved it at them. "You don't go to school anyway," he said. "Clean it up. And don't leave. When I get back, you can have this."

  "Yes, sir," one of them said, nodding.

  "Really?" Gabe asked as they walked into his office. "You're gonna trust them?"

  Xander shrugged. "Nothing to steal," Xander said, watching Gabe go in his desk and grab keys, pepper spray, and a gun.

  "Alright," Gabe said, locking the front door and walking them through to the back. "Let's go."

  –

  The drive wasn't long, but passed in stony silence. Gabe drove, his eyes fixed on the road like it required intense concentration. K sat next to him, his eyes focused on his phone like it might ring. Like maybe he had been wrong. Like maybe she had gotten away after all.

  Xander sat in the back, staring out the window. He was trying not to think about her. And failing miserably.

  He wondered about the years before Nicola. What she had been like. Less guarded, for sure. More open. Less skittish. Did she always compulsively clean? Had she been a better communicator? Someone who laughed easily and often?

  He wondered about the years during the abuse. How she got herself through it. Her books? Trying to escape into different worlds? Pretend it wasn't going on?