by Bry Ann
Keep scratching. I need drugs. I need something.
“Can you come out from under there so we can talk?”
“Sage.”
“Sage.”
“Are you safe right now?”
“Sage, I need you to answer me or I’m going to have to have a nurse give you something.”
I freeze. I go as still as I can. Worry, please worry about me.
“Sage.”
“Okay, go on,” he sighs.
Just like that the bed is surrounded. I screech, feeling trapped. Visions of my time in hell, in motels and apartments with disgusting men, swarm my brain.
“Please, don’t hurt me. Please,” I whimper. “Please. Please.”
“Sweetheart, no one wants to hurt you. Can you come out?”
“Please.” I scoot to the front of the bed. I’m back in a seedy motel, surrounded by men whose hands I don’t want on me. Knowing cash was traded to Z, Marcus, or Sty for what was about to happen.
“Sweetheart, you’re going to feel a little poke.”
My eyes practically roll to the back of my head. Finally, something to numb the pain. The poke is welcome. I know the sensation well.
I welcome the blackness when it takes me.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I slowly blink my eyes open. Where am I? What happened? What do I have to do?
“Hey, sweetheart, I’m Angie. Your nurse today. Do you remember where you are?”
I blink a couple of times.
“Uh…” My voice is really hoarse, so I clear it. “Um…”
“It’s normal to be a little confused.”
She smiles as she fiddles with the beeping machine next to me.
“You’re at the hospital, remember?”
“Yes, um, what hap-happened?”
“The psychiatrist will be in soon to talk to you. He’ll explain it to you, sweetie. He’ll do a much better job than me. I’m going to let him know you’re back.”
She gives me a tight-lipped smile and walks out. I can only sit there and blink at my surroundings while the scene from before starts to come back to my mind.
“Ugh!” I groan, throwing a pillow over my face. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”
“Nothing abnormal, from my perspective.”
I shoot up, flinging the pillow back.
“I’m so sorry,” I blurt immediately. “Doctor, I—”
“Shh, Sage. It’s okay. I just want to talk.”
He pulls a chair up. “Can you explain to me what happened? You got pretty overwhelmed earlier.”
“It’s kind of personal.”
“I’m a good secret keeper.”
I fiddle with the covers. “Dad told me he loved me. It’s the first time he’s said that to me.”
“I see.” He frowns. “I imagine that that was huge for you.”
A stray tears rolls down my cheek. “Yes,” I whisper. “It’s all I ever wanted. Why did I have to be kidnapped and raped over and over for him to love me? Why did Sage have to go away for him to love her?”
“Sometimes,” he begins slowly, “unfortunately, people don’t realize what they have until it’s gone. And Sage, you’re still in there. She’s not gone. I promise you.”
“He should have loved me before I started looking for love elsewhere.”
“Your anger is justified. I just want you to express it in healthy ways. Does that make sense? There are healthy outlets for your anger.”
“Yeah, I’m usually better. I just slipped.”
“Nobody, and I do mean nobody, expects perfection from you. Now, I do have to ask you one question.”
His eyes drill into me, suddenly becoming very serious. The only thing I know to compare it to is the way Dumbledore looks at Harry Potter when times are tough and he needs Harry’s honesty. That’s how he’s looking at me right now.
“Were you looking to get drugs yesterday, Sage? Were you hoping they’d subdue you?”
His eyes dig into mine further. If I hadn’t had so much time learning to school every expression, every emotion I feel, I’d have slipped and let my shock show.
“No, I just was overwhelmed and didn’t know where I was.”
Not a total lie. I feel bad for stretching the truth, but I’m not getting admitted into some detox center. I had a moment. One moment. I can beat the addiction on my own. I don’t need people babysitting me. Manipulating me into being drug-free.
“It’s in your best interest to be honest with me. I’m not here to trap you or make you suffer further because you admitted you were struggling. I’m here to help you.”
“I’m telling the truth,” I whisper.
“And the scratch marks on your arm.”
“I had an itch.”
“Sage, drug addiction is a powerful thing. The hospital did a great job detoxing you physically, but mentally, Sage, you have the best care available to you when you leave here. I want you to be more open to receiving it.”
“Okay, I’ll think about it.”
No I won’t.
“That’s all I ask. Also,” he stands from his chair and looks down at me with another Dumbledore-esque expression.
“Your father signed the papers allowing you to leave here with Nix.”
He cocks an eyebrow.
“You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
I do a fake “seal my lips, throw away the key” sign and shake my head.
“Nope.”
He smirks. “Well, your parents are very concerned.”
My humor dies. I stare at him flatly.
“Something to discuss with your therapist since they are probably still releasing you soon. This will probably be my last time seeing you. I wish you the absolute best out there, Sage. Take care of yourself. You are worth it.”
I don’t know what makes me tear up. Knowing I won’t see the nice doctor anymore or him saying I’m worth it when I’m so clearly not, but a pool of water comes to my eyes. I grab my hippo, hide my face a bit, and nod.
He smiles at me and is gone.
Gone.
Everything is about to change, again.
I feel like I’m on a roller coaster speeding through the darkness with no seatbelt, but I can't get off.
I’m trapped.
Chapter Twenty
“Okay.” The nurse's eyes water. “Take care of yourself, sweetheart.”
“I will,” I say meekly, fidgeting with the sweater Mom brought me and gave the nurse to give to me.
My request.
“Sage?” Agent Bradley Ryan calls.
“Yes,” I whisper. He scares me. I don’t want to get arrested for being a whore or taking drugs or all the other things I did.
“Here’s my card. I’m going to be in touch, okay? I’m going to keep checking on you.”
“Did you stop them? Can I see Tammy?”
He sighs. “It’s going to take time, Sage. Lots of time. Although, I will say, your friend Nix helped speed the process up quite a bit.”
He did? Is that why it took him so long to help me?
“As for Tammy,” Agent Brad continues, “let’s let her heal a bit more, okay?”
“But—”
“She needs space right now,” Brad says kindly. “Sage, Tammy’s struggling. You need to let the doctors do their job and help her.”
I nod, looking at the floor, feeling alone. So, so alone.
“I’m here. Sorry I’m late.” Nix comes running in.
“Nixon,” Brad states flatly.
“Agent,” Nix says with a smirk on his face.
I grin up at him through my hair. He’s funny. Brad’s never liked him, but instead of being intimidated, he seems to find humor in it.
He winks at me. “Hey, Sage.”
“Hi,” I whisper.
“You ready?”
I look around, not feeling ready at all to leave this safe spot, so I just nod. It feels like my bones are shaking. Luckily, it’s just inside of me where that’s happening, not outside.
From there, we have to do discharge papers and all that.
And apparently, I have to see my parents. I can’t leave without seeing them. Did they not learn their lesson the first time?
So I tuck myself by the corner of the now nearly empty room and wait, bracing myself.
“Sage,” Mom whispers, walking into the room, heels clicking on the floor.
Click. Click. Click. She looks perfect, of course. Tan pencil skirt. Brown silk blouse. Brown heels. Perfectly straightened hair.
I’m in a nice green sweater (since they brought it), baggy jeans, and flats, but I put on socks the hospital gave me with the shoes as a “fuck you” to the designer clothes Mom brought me.
“You… you look…”
“Bruised and tired,” I say flatly.
“Beautiful nonetheless,” she whispers.
“Stop! You and dad need to stop! This is such bullshit. You… never thought that!”
Dumb tears blur my vision as Dad walks in.
“We’re trying, Sage. I’m letting you go home with some stranger at your request. I’m handling Pamela’s funeral. Essie Taylor has been moved and—”
“Who’s Essie?”
Dad’s eyebrows furrow. Mom is still fidgeting.
“Your friend. The one you asked me to provide care for.”
“Her name’s not Essie, it’s Tammy.”
“Her name is Essie Taylor, daughter of Mike and Sherry Taylor. Missing for two and half years. For six months of that, she was believed to be living with her boyfriend, Zaid Rodgers.”
Z.
“Her name can-can’t be Essie. She’s Tammy! Tammy! I know her. She would have told me!”
Mom exhales heavily, and Dad looks sympathetic. Sympathetic! Charles!
“Hun,” Mom sighs, “she probably gave a fake name to protect herself if she ever got free, so they couldn’t use the people she loves against her.”
“But… but she was dating Z. She would have told him her name is Essie.”
“We don’t know the whole story, Sage,” Dad says, “but hun, Essie was some kind of child prodigy. She’s got a genius-level IQ.”
“No, no she doesn’t. Please stop!”
I feel that ocean of pressure drowning me again.
“Okay,” Mom and Dad soothe at the same time. “Let’s change the subject. We just wanted to see you and talk about your discharge. Is that okay?”
I nod quickly. My stomach feels queasy. Essie. Essie Taylor? She was never Essie. Not just in name. Her whole personality was Tammy. Rough. Hard. Quiet. A little crazy. Not a child genius. Not a sweet, gentle woman like the name Essie insinuates.
Fake name. Why didn’t she tell me? How’d she pull that off?
“Sage, are you listening?”
I glance up at my oh-so-perfect mom.
“Yes.”
“We’re going to see you every day until you come home. We’ll give you a week, then you come home. We’ll take good care of you, sweetie.”
Can I vomit again? Vomit and cry.
“And we’ll be working less,” Dad adds quickly, making my gaze snap to his. “So we can spend more time with you.”
“Yes,” Mom adds hurriedly.
“Is that all?” I whisper, desperately wanting not to hear this anymore.
“I gave Nix some clothes for you to wear. Clothes and body wash and all that stuff.”
“I hope you didn’t overwhelm him with stuff. I don’t plan on looking good.”
“It was a modest amount, Sage. Just use what you like.”
Somehow I doubt anything Charles and Molly Briar-Rose packed is modest, but we’ll see.
“‘Kay, can I, um, go?”
They look like I’ve wounded them with my words, but like, are they kidding? They didn’t want to speak with me for more than two seconds in the past. Now I’ve wounded them by wanting my space.
I feel like I’m drowning. The pain inside me is pounding at every crack and crevice.
“Yes, of course. Everything’s done, so I’ll grab Nix. He’ll escort you out.”
“I don’t need an escort.”
They both give me tight-lipped smiles, tell me they “care about me” and walk out. I’m betting they didn’t utter the dreaded ‘L’ word after my last reaction.
Good.
“I hear you’re a real joy today,” Nix muses, walking in like he owns the room. I stay half-hidden behind the curtain.
“I’m fine.”
“Why don’t you come on out from behind the curtain, yeah?”
I fist my hands and step out from behind the curtain.
“There. Happy?”
“Hmm,” he cocks his head to the side and studies me uncomfortably. “What’s going on in your head?”
Nix leans against the grey hospital bed, arms crossed.
“Nothing. Can we go?”
“You have somewhere important to get in such a rush?”
I scowl at the ground. “Your house,” I grind out.
“It can wait ‘til we’re done talking.”
“Stop! I don’t want to talk to you! Gahhh!”
“Okay, can you relax? Let’s follow protocol, get you out, and go do something. The rest of my day is yours, alright?”
I look up at him. His eyes are soft and open.
“You took off work for me?”
That’s big. Until recently, apparently, my parents never took off work for me. Sty obviously never did. I was his job.
Nix’s lips curl up at that.
“I don’t necessarily ‘take off work’, but yeah, sure. I cleared my schedule so I could get ya settled in.”
“That was nice of you,” I whisper.
“Psh, no big.”
“Is it okay with your dad?”
At that, the energy in the room changes. I feel it swirl around him. I watch as every muscle in his body coils.
“I don’t give a fuck what he thinks.”
“Okay, I’m sorry.”
He hisses out a tense breath. “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry for snapping. It’s not you, he’s just… he’s a tough topic.”
The tension in his muscles makes me hurt for him. Everything about him is riled up like someone’s gonna come out and attack him just for talking about it.
“People suck.”
He laughs, and with it, the tension slowly seeps out of his body. “Yep, brave girl, you got that right.”
I smile at him. “Thank you for helping me. I don’t feel so broken when you’re around.”
“That’s ‘cause you’re not broken,” he says easily. “A little crazy, maybe, but broken? Nah.”
“Asshole,” I laugh, swatting his arm.
He chuckles. “You ready to go, princess?”
I feel my teeth slide over my lip. I nod. I can tell he sees my fear, but thankfully, he lets it slide. He leans over and hits the nurse’s button. The next bit, I shut down for. It’s them ushering me out. Explaining prescriptions. Overwhelming me with to-dos and “good luck's." The world around me is bright. It’s so bright my eyes sting, which the staff prepared for by giving me paper-like sunglasses that do little to block how overwhelming the light is. Then there’s the noise. It’s all so loud. Every honk has me jumping, which I must be hiding because everyone keeps talking at me and Nix. On and on. I quickly feel my trembling increase, but if I crack, I’ll be shoved back in the hospital doors, which means I already failed.
“Okay, she’s got it. Let me get some food in her, get her settled in. Maybe a blanket.”
Nix’s eyebrows raise. It’s only then everyone realizes how rigid I’ve become.
“Right, of course,” they all bristle.
I honestly don’t hear anything else. I’m so freaked out, so overwhelmed, I just shut off.
“Hey,” a soft voice appears in front of me, “that part’s over, okay? My car’s all black. I think you’ll like it.”
“Nix?” I blink at him, feeling the water there.
“Yep, your current favorit
e person is still here.”
A laugh-sob bursts out of me.
“Is the inside black?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, good.”
He smiles and cocks his head to the side. “Come on, follow me. I parked close. I figured this would be a little much for you.”
I don’t say anything. He lets me. I’m led to a nice, yet slightly modest, black car. It’s not overly fancy or inconspicuous, it’s just dark.
And I love it!
I crawl inside, reveling in the black leather seats, the dark roof. It’s perfect! It’s what I need. I curl up in the seat as close to the door as I can. I want to, I really do, but I can’t stop my brain from going there. For so long now, cars have meant jobs. Jobs have meant getting taken against my will. Over and over. It was never good. It was always bad.
Nix climbs into his seat next to me, sticks his keys in the engine, and starts it, but doesn’t move. I feel his eyes on me. It’s like he wants to say or do something, but instead he just stares.
I tuck my head into the door, curl in further, and try to contain the sound of my cries.
“Do you want to go somewhere else?” he asks softly.
I start to tremble. I can only think of hell. I don’t know what my options are.
“Do you want to go to your parents’ instead, princess? Somewhere you know? It may make you feel—”
“No,” I squeak, cutting him off. “Please don’t make me.”
“I won’t. I just… I don’t know what to do.”
“Just don’t hurt me,” I sniffle. “Please.”
“Never, Sage,” he murmurs.
With that, he starts the car. While I try to control my flashbacks, I know without question that Nix will take me where he thinks is best for me.
Where we go will have nothing to do with him and everything to do with me.
… and for now, that’s enough of a reason to not let the darkness take me fully.
Chapter Twenty-One
Nix
Fuck me, I don’t know what I’m doing. She’s so scared. I can’t even imagine the horrors going through her mind right now. I’m not cut out for this. I’m a fucking criminal, for God’s sake. Mind you, nothing like the dead bastards who took her, but still… a criminal.
Not to mention, she’s still a kid. I mean she’s only two years younger than me, really, but she’s not over eighteen yet and I am. It’s inappropriate on some level, especially because she’s uniquely stunning and it’s hard not to notice.
