From the other room, wood splintered as Joe broke through her barricade. She didn’t stop to consider her next course of action. She leapt over the debris and ran out the front door.
Joe’s neighborhood was a patchwork of rundown homes with a wasteland of broken car parts making up the lawns. Hungry eyes peered from behind grimy windows, watching, but never making an effort to help anyone without a price. They were the vultures of the human world. They had never bothered Sophie before, but their ignorance now to her desperate screams, enraged her. It didn’t seem to matter to them that she was a young girl, clearly wounded, covered in blood and begging for help. They sat and watched, making no attempts to even conceal their interest.
She stopped screaming. She ran. She ran towards the miles of brush making up the park that led to the playground Spencer had taken her to many nights ago. Her bare feet pounded on raw concrete, sending slivers of pain slicing up her legs. Her breathing blew out in a way she knew was going to slow her down, but she couldn’t seem to control it above the need to escape. Even before the first stab of pain shot into her side, she knew she was slowing down. The cramp nearly doubled her over on the path. Her gaze swept franticly for some signs of life, of someone that could help her, a place she could rest or hide. But the park lay vast and empty.
“Sophie!” The voice carved into her very soul like a hot knife through butter. Even as she whipped around, she knew he had somehow caught up to her.
Bloody, looking more monster than human, Joe staggered after her. A large portion of his face was peeled away, like a melted candle, exposing a slash of bone. His hair was matted and his jeans and white t-shirt were painted a ghastly red. He looked horrifying.
Sophie turned and bolted, ignoring his shouts for her to stop, to hear him out. She tried to ignore the stitch in her side, twisting as if the knife were sinking into her again and again. Every breath clawed down her chest in jagged shards, slicing her lungs open, but she pushed, half sprinting, half stumbling.
It was because of her inability to run anymore that he caught her. His arms swung around her shoulders, trapping her arms to her sides. They both nearly hit the ground as his weight came crashing down on her back.
“Let me explain!” he begged. “I love you!”
Sophie screamed, thrashing and kicking, trying to stomp on his feet.
“Sophie! Listen!” he growled, his anger lacing the words.
“Help! Help me!” she wailed at the top of her lungs.
His hand, filthy and sticky with sweat and blood clamped down over her mouth. “Shut up! Shut up, Sophie! You’re being stupid!”
“Hey!” The third voice could have been sent from heaven. It shattered the moment like the descent of an angel. “Get your fucking hands off her!”
Joe’s arms slipped from around her. Without his support keeping her up, Sophie tumbled to the ground. The knife cluttered from her hand as she twisted around just in time to hear the revolting cling of metal striking flesh and see Joe’s head whip back as the baseball bat cracked into his face. His body soared back a second later as gravity pulled it in the direction of his crushed skull. He landed with a sickening thud several feet away in a crumpled heap, not moving.
Sophie stared, unable to do anything else. Even her tears had deserted her.
Then a figure moved in front of her, blocking her view of her best friend’s broken body. Strong, familiar arms surrounded her. “I’ve got you, baby.”
Sophie had no idea how she got to the hospital. She had no idea who brought her there. She had no idea how to move or think or talk. She sat, paralyzed as the world spun around her. Faces, lights and sounds blurred like she was on some carnival ride she hadn’t asked to be on. People spoke to her, voices urgent, questions pressing, but all she could think was … free. She was finally free.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Something was beeping, a slow, steady rhythm that was almost soothing when Sophie began to surface from the murky world of her dreams. The air smelled of antiseptic, pine cleaner, medication and … French fries? There were hushed voices from somewhere nearby, the scuffle of moving bodies. Someone was crying. Their soft sniffles were what had her peeling her eyelids open.
The room was an unnatural shade of white one only found in hospitals. She stared at the planks overhead for a moment as she let her mind catch up to the whirlwind of emotions all rushing to be expressed at once. Relief. Fear. Joy. Terror. Relief. Relief. Relief! Pounding in a cacophony of chaos between her ears.
“Sophie?”
Slowly, she turned her head in the direction of the small voice and instantly found the source of the crying.
Jessie, Lauren and Roy sat together on a bench-type seat. Lauren had her head on Roy’s shoulder, both of them asleep, and Jessie had her head in Lauren’s lap and that’s how they were sitting. It was Jessie who noticed Sophie’s return to the living.
“Sophie?” Her voice croaked, her face already crumpling. “Sophie!” She tore across the room before the other two could even register the sudden commotion.
Sophie had no time to brace. Jessie climbed right on the bed and pulled her into an embrace that nearly crushed Sophie’s ribs. Her violent sobs shook both of them.
“Get a nurse!” Lauren was screaming, shoving Roy out the door as she ran for the bed. “Sophie?”
Both of her friend’s eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and tears. But Sophie could only stare at Lauren.
“You cut your hair.” Her voice sounded like she’d been gargling with nails.
Lauren blinked, her hand flying up to touch the short bob. “You’ve been gone for three months and that’s all you can say?” Her eyes filled and each word tumbled from trembling lips, but she was smiling.
Sophie gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”
Lauren face crumpled. “You’re so stupid!” Then she was in Sophie’s arms, crying softly into her shoulder, dampening the flimsy hospital gown.
Sophie kept a tight arm around her friends, holding them both close as she thanked everything holy over and over again for not letting her die, for helping her escape.
“I’m sorry!” Jessie whispered at long last. “I’m so sorry, Sophie. This was all my fault.”
Baffled, Sophie drew back to peer into her friend’s face. “What? No, Jess. You didn’t—”
“It is!” Jessie insisted. “I’m the one who told Joe where you were.” She shuddered on a sob. She swiped her forearm beneath her runny nose. “He’d call me and ask where you were and if I didn’t know, I’d text you and ask and then I’d tell him. I swear I didn’t know, Sophie. I thought he was just being … Joe. I would never have said anything if I knew.”
“It’s not your fault,” Sophie rasped. “Joe was sick. Even if you hadn’t told him, he would have found out.”
“But I helped him!”
She pulled Jessie back into her arms and held her tight as the girl sobbed uncontrollably into her shoulder. She murmured nonsense things while she rubbed her back.
“I’m so sorry!” Jessie kept repeating.
Sophie’s response was smothered by the thunder of feet as five people ran into the room.
She recognized the two in front immediately. “Mom! Dad!”
Lauren peeled Jessie off Sophie just as her parents rushed to her side. Her mother’s arms replaced Jessie’s around Sophie’s throat in a choking tangle. She was crying so hard, Sophie feared her heart would stop. Her father’s tears were more silent, contradicting the smile he was trying so hard to keep in place.
“Hey, baby,” he said, his voice thick.
Seeing their faces, bathing in their scent, did her in. She held her mother and sobbed like a baby, not caring who saw. Her fingers fisted against her mother’s back, crumpling her already crumpled t-shirt. Every bone in her body rattled with the violent tremors slicing through her.
“It’s okay, baby! It’s okay!” her mother cried. “You’re home. You’re safe.”
“Mrs. Valdez? The doctor needs to
get in there to see her,” the nurse behind her mother said patiently.
“Mary.” Her father lightly touched her back. “Let the doctor see her.”
But it was Sophie’s stiff fingers frozen around clumps of her mother’s shirt that kept her from detaching. Her knuckles popped when she forced the bones to release. She grabbed her mother’s hand instead, gripping tight.
The doctor, a middle aged man with soft white hair and matching beard took her place. He offered Sophie an encouraging smile. “Hello, Sophie I’m Dr. Gaffen. How are you feeling?”
Sophie thought about getting stabbed, watching Spencer get stabbed, getting drugged and kidnapped and held hostage for three months. She thought about being beaten and tied down. She thought about feeling her best friend’s blood pour from her fingers and soak into her clothes.
How did she feel?
“I don’t know,” she whispered honestly.
The doctor nodded slowly, his face the crest of sympathy. “You’ve had an extremely traumatic experience. Everything you’re feeling is natural. I’m just going to do a few tests, okay?”
Sophie stared at the doctor. Her gaze swung up to her parents, then over to her friends. They were all there. Everyone who meant the world to her. Everyone she had fought to see again.
Except …
“Where’s Spencer?”
All the air seemed to vanish from the room. Glances were exchanged as they waited for someone else to answer.
The heart monitor rose in volume behind her as panic and desperation stole claim to her sanity. “Where’s Spencer?” she said again, puncturing each word through her chattering teeth. “Where is he?”
“Right here, baby.”
The sight of him standing in the doorway wearing his black jeans and Metallica t-shirt was glorious. He looked beautiful, even with the purple circles beneath his tired eyes and dark stubble around his hollow cheeks. The heart machine went insane at the sight of him. Her hands were up, reaching and being filled with him as he pulled her into his arms.
“You’re alive!” she choked around sobs. “He wouldn’t tell me. He would never tell me! I …”
“Shh,” he whispered, his face buried in her shoulder, his fingers tangled in her hair. “I’m here.”
She was only vaguely aware of the doctor taking her arm and preforming the necessary blood pressure test. Even when she had to let Spencer go, she couldn’t. She held tight to his hand, staring into his now red rimmed and shiny eyes.
“What happened? I saw him … I saw him …” She couldn’t put voice to the horror of watching him get stabbed.
“I found a towel behind your door. I used it to stop the bleeding. I found my phone in my pocket and phoned the police before I passed out again. I woke up in the hospital with thirty stitches.” His head dropped forward, his face twisted in pain. “I’m so sorry, Sophie.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t do anything!”
“Exactly. I let him take you. This is my fault.”
“No! It’s not!” her father said before she could. “You saved my girl’s life. You brought her back.”
Sophie blinked. “You found me?”
Spencer rubbed a hand through his hair. “Not soon enough.”
“He bought a police radio. He stayed by it every day, waiting for something to come in,” her father said, watching Spencer. “He never gave up.”
There was a hint of pink in Spencer’s otherwise pale cheeks. “When I heard the call come in, naming you and your location … I knew the police would never get there in time. I ran. Then I heard you screaming and …”
“That was you!”
The raw emotion in his eyes tore at her. “I never knew it was him. I never …” The muscles along his jaw were so tight she feared his teeth would shatter. “I was there, Sophie. I was in his house! I was there every day!”
Her chest hurt with her sharp inhale. “What?”
He was breathing hard as he stared into her eyes. A tear slipped from his. “He asked me to come by after I was released from the hospital, said we should team up and look for you together.” His nostrils flared as he tried to control the anger and tears she could see swimming in his eyes. “I was over at his house every day, making plans, looking over maps and deciding where to put up posters next and all that time … all that time you were …”
“None of us knew it was him.” Lauren’s voice broke.
“But I should have!” Spencer growled. “I should have known! I should have beaten his face in until he told me where you were.”
“How could you have known?” Sophie whispered, squeezing his fingers. “I knew him my whole life and I never saw that side of him.”
“That’s not an excuse. I thought we were friends. I thought … I trusted him! I was so stupid.”
“No!” Sophie tugged on his arm. “He fooled all of us.”
He shook his head, rocking it vehemently from side to side, refusing to believe her. He rocked, shifted as if he couldn’t seem to keep still. His fingers curled like bands of steel around the railings along her bed. His face was a contorted knot of pain and fear. “Did … did he hurt you?”
The room went very still, very quiet. Even the doctor was now watching her, waiting with his clipboard for her answer. The nurse stood by the door, one hand over her mouth as tears glistened in her eyes. Jessie pressed her hands over her ears, rocking her head as she clung to a stone-faced Lauren. Her parents, she was sure, weren’t even breathing. Her mother looked like she would faint and her father barely looked in control of himself.
Spencer … Spencer looked half torn between guilt and rage, but his eyes glinted with undeniable love. They promised that no matter what her answer, he would be there. He would love her.
Slowly, Sophie shook her head. “Not like that.”
The air poured back into the room as if a valve had been released. Spencer half sagged on the bar running alongside her bed. He raised her fingers to his lips and kissed each one. His free hand combed through her hair and he dragged her face to his. He pressed his brow to hers.
“I love you,” he half growled. “No matter what, I would have always loved you!”
She kissed him, needing the feel and taste of him. He returned it with a desperation that overwhelmed her. She tasted salty tears and had no idea which of them was crying. It wasn’t until they pulled apart that she realized they both were.
She smiled, wiping his cheeks. “Love you, too, Spence.”
His shaky exhale washed over her face as he closed his eyes.
With a light kiss to his lips, she turned her attention to her parents. She offered them a shaky smile. “I missed you guys.”
Her mother moved forward to touch her shoulder, her face, her hair, any part that was reachable. “We missed you, too, honey.”
With her free hand, she captured her mother’s, holding on to it tight. “I’m sorry for everything. None of this would have happened if I—”
“This was not your fault!” her father boomed, fury leaping in waves around him. “Nothing that bastard did was your fault! Don’t you dare blame yourself for this.”
Sophie looked down. “But everything else. I lied to you guys and betrayed your trust and acted like a complete—”
“Teenager?” her mother supplied with a smile.
Sophie chuckled. “I was going to say brat.”
Her father stepped up and placed a gentle hand on her knee. “We are so proud of you, Sophie. No matter what.”
Emotion bubbled up inside her, only to crash back down when Mark ambled into the room, arms open wide and a brilliant smile drawing his face.
“Hey! Look who’s awake! Welcome back, sweet girl.”
Sophie smiled at him. “It’s great to be back.” Her gaze shot past him, searching the doorway. “Where’s Janice?”
Spencer looked down.
“Didn’t anyone tell you?” Mark accused the room.
Concern speared through her. “Tell me what? Is she okay?”
<
br /> Mark beamed. “She had the baby! She’s just on the other side of this hospital in the maternity ward.”
“Oh that is amazing news! How is she? The baby?”
“Baby is fine!” Mark said. “Mama, too.”
Sophie’s gaze shot to Spencer. He grinned at her lopsidedly. “Insufferable thing,” he muttered, but the adoration in his eyes was undeniable.
“What is it? A boy or a girl? And what did you name—” Her words died as two more figures moved into the room behind Mark.
“Sophia Valdez?” the police officer said.
Sophie nodded. “That’s me.”
The two officers exchanged glances. They stepped into the room and glanced at the group inside.
“Can we talk with you alone?”
Jessie, Lauren, Roy and Mark stepped out of the room. Her parents didn’t. Neither did Spencer.
“I’m Detective Marlow and this is my partner Detective McLeary. We’re the officers in charge of this investigation.”
“Hello,” Sophie murmured for lack of anything better.
Detective Marlow turned his gaze downward at the pad in his hand. He tapped his pen on the edge as he paused for a moment before meeting Sophie’s eyes again. “We’re sorry to intrude at such a delicate time, but this is a matter of top priority and timing is key. We’d like to ask you a few questions, if that’s all right?”
Sophie glanced at her parents, glanced at Spencer, then nodded.
“I’ll come back later to check on you,” the doctor said, motioning for the nurse to follow him out of the room. He shut the door behind them.
“Can you tell us what happened? Please start from the beginning.”
Sophie had to think. When was the beginning? The horrific gift on her doorstep? When she’d met Joe? When she’d been stabbed?
She started from when she met Joe. She told them about the scared, skittish boy beneath the slide. She told them about the boy she grew up with, the one she thought she could trust. Finally, she told them about the boy in that basement. She left nothing out. She relived every moment of her three months in captivity. She took great pains never to glance at her parents or Spencer. She ignored their reactions, even as their gasps and growls echoed through the room. She stared at the detectives, fixed her gaze on the pen immortalizing her pain in a tiny notepad.
Games of Fire Page 45
