Don't Forget Me

by Stacy Claflin

  “Yay!” She danced around the kitchen, clapping and singing.

  Nick opened the fridge and pulled out the bowl of fruit he’d cut up a few minutes earlier. “Can you see if Ava and Parker are up yet?”

  “Can I wake them if they’re not?” Hanna pleaded with her eyes.

  “Just let them sleep.”

  “Aw.” Her shoulders slumped as she plodded down the hallway.

  “Just check,” he reminded her as he pulled the freshly-squeezed juice from the fridge. He set it and the fruit on the dining room table before going back to check on the cinnamon rolls.

  Hanna came back with a slight frown. “Still sleeping. Sure I can’t wake them? Ava kept me up last night.”

  Nick arched a brow. “She did? Doing what?”

  “Talking. Probably on her phone to Braylon.” Hanna added an extra syllable to her sister’s boyfriend’s name.

  “How late?”

  Hanna shrugged. “Dunno. Can I frost those now?”

  Nick tried to remember if he could hear anything the night before, but he’d been so tired he likely could have slept through an explosion.

  “Daddy?”

  He took a peek at the rolls. “They’re probably ready. Remember how to spread it?”

  She nodded vigorously and reached for the packet of icing.

  Nick cut the top off and handed it to her. As she squeezed it out, he finished getting the table ready for breakfast with Genevieve, Tinsley, and his kids.

  Ding-dong.

  Perfect timing. He checked his reflection in a mirror by the door—he had Corrine to thank for the placement. There wasn’t much he could thank her for, but she did have interior decorating smarts.

  Nick reached for the doorknob, but Hanna swooped in and pulled it open. “Tinsley!”

  The two girls hugged, then ran down the hall toward Hanna’s room. Two distinct voices sounded.

  His eyes widened. “Tinsley just said something to Hanna.”

  “I know.” Genevieve smiled as she stepped in, and they exchanged a pleased expression. “I’ve never heard her speak more than she has in the last few days.”

  Nick took the covered plate from her and nudged the door closed. “That’s great news.”

  “It’s odd timing, but I’ll take it.” She glanced at the table. “This looks great. Can I help with anything?”

  “No, everything’s ready. It’s just a matter of dragging the kids out here.”

  Nick called the kids. Hanna and Tinsley rushed out and sat down at the table. Nick knocked on Parker’s and Ava’s doors. “Breakfast is ready! Genevieve and Tinsley are here.”

  He went to the table and sat. Just as he was about to tell the others to eat, Parker and Ava plodded into the dining room.

  “You guys look like zombies.” Hanna giggled, and Tinsley joined in.

  “Ha-ha.” Ava glared at her sister and said good morning to Genevieve. She then went into the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee.

  Hanna poked at the covered dish Genevieve brought. “What did you make?”

  “Hash browns. You like them?”

  “They’re my favorite! Especially with lots of ketchup.”

  It didn’t take long for the food to disappear, then for the kids to run off in different directions. Music played in Parker’s room and the shower started in the bathroom. The back door slammed shut as Hanna and Tinsley headed for the backyard.

  “Want some help cleaning this mess?” Genevieve asked.

  Nick took her hand and rubbed his thumb along her wrist. “Maybe in a bit. How are you doing?”

  “Tired but okay, considering.”

  “I know that feeling all too well. How are your parents holding up?”

  She frowned and her expression showed just how exhausted she was. “Dad keeps fishing like the lakes are running out of fish. He leaves Mom to deal with the stress on her own. I guess he thinks I’m going to take care of her.”

  “Is that typical?” Nick continued rubbing her wrist.

  “Unfortunately. I feel like this is overboard, but then again, so is the whole situation. What are the chances we’d live in a house that’s used as a burial ground? I’m sure he just doesn’t know how to handle everything. He certainly isn’t going to talk about it with anyone. So, he fishes. Every day now, apparently. Must be nice to be retired.”

  “Everybody has their own ways of dealing with stress. Look at Tinsley. She hasn’t been talking to anyone, either.”

  “Yeah, but she’s a kid and she’s been through so much worse. Losing her parents like that. Having to help her mom kidnap and torture people.” Genevieve shuddered and her eyes took on a glassy look.

  Nick pulled her into his embrace. “How are you holding up under all the stress?”

  She laced her smooth fingers through his. “Trying to be strong for everyone else.”

  He ran his palm over her hair, kissed the top of her head, and took in the fruity smell of her shampoo. “You don’t have to be strong for me.”

  Genevieve relaxed a little against him but didn’t say anything.

  Nick smoothed her hair. “I obviously don’t know exactly what you’re going through, but I know what it’s like to be on that side of an investigation. To be unable to do anything professionally and to watch people you care about dealing with impossible situations.”

  She nodded. “How are the kids handling Corrine’s incarceration?”

  He took in a deep breath. “It’s hard on them. I can see it in their eyes whenever they talk about her. Hanna’s the only one who actually expresses her sadness to me. She’s young enough that she isn’t self-conscious about crying. Parker just gets mad, and Ava…” Nick had a hard time finding words to describe how his oldest was handling everything. “I think she’s using avoidance as her tool of choice. She spends a lot of time with her friends and boyfriend, which I think is good. She’s even taking an interest in tennis, which I’d have never expected, but then again Braylon is on the school team.”

  “Sounds healthy enough to me. I’d be worried if she was hiding out in her room, avoiding everyone.”

  “That’s true. None of the kids are doing that.”

  “At least you care.”

  Nick paused. “What do you mean?”

  Genevieve hesitated. “I went through something as a teenager, but nobody paid any attention to how I dealt with it once it was over.”

  “You went through something? What was it?” He raked his mind, trying to remember if she had mentioned something before, but couldn’t think of anything.

  She shook in his arms.

  “Are you okay?” He held her closer. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “I do want to talk about it.” Her voice wavered. “I haven’t since it happened.”

  Nick’s mind pulled a bunch of different theories—and some were horrific, given what he’d seen in his years on the force. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Her hand tightened and shook in his, and she drew in a deep breath. She started to say something, but stopped.

  He rubbed her wrist again. “I would never judge you. Never think less of you. You’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. One of the strongest and most intelligent officers on the force.”

  She brought her hand up to her face and when she pulled it away, a tear rolled down to her arm.

  Nick’s chest tightened. He hated to see her hurting.

  Genevieve nestled closer to him and sniffled. “When I was sixteen, I went with a friend to her cousins’ house out in the country. Some small town I can’t even remember the name of that was surrounded by woods.”

  He continued rubbing her wrist and he kissed the top of her head every so often, waiting for her to continue.

  “Her cousins were a little older. Graduated high school and had their own little house. It was rundown, but I didn’t think anything of it because I figured they just had a hard time making ends meet at their age. But th
en I found out later they were into drugs and some weird cult-like stuff. Anyway, late that night they woke us up because they wanted to go into the woods for a bonfire. I should’ve known something was off when they all grabbed long hooded robes…”

  Relive

  Genevieve shivered as the memory of that night flooded her mind, making her feel like she was right back in that rundown house. She could smell the odors, which she now knew were various drugs.

  She had given a concerned look to her friend, Chelsea.

  Chelsea had just shrugged and grabbed her coat. She seemed to think a bonfire in the woods would be fun. An adventure.

  Since Chelsea wasn’t worried, Genevieve ignored her instincts trying to warn her that something was wrong. She stupidly trusted her friend over herself.

  They piled into a van. Between the seats lay all kinds of medieval-like weaponry instead of what she would’ve expected for a bonfire. No marshmallows or roasting sticks.

  Her skin prickled, but she ignored it and laughed with Chelsea and her cousins over some stupid hunting story one of them told.

  The van roared to life, then backfired loudly. They drove down a bumpy road and into the forest until the trail ended.

  Genevieve had expected everyone to pile out and start the bonfire within sight of the vehicle. Instead, they all grabbed weapons and supplies, then headed down a narrow trail for what felt like an hour. They weaved between trees, only able to see as far as the flashlights allowed. She didn’t have one.

  By the time they finally stopped, every muscle in her body burned. She had been in decent shape but wasn’t dressed for a hike, wearing sandals on her feet which had made some painful blisters on her soles and heels over the trek.

  Before long, a huge fire roared, the flames licking toward the nearby tree branches. Five or six other junkies joined the group. Everyone other than Genevieve slipped on a robe.

  Including Chelsea.

  They all had sharp weapons. The mood shifted in an instant.

  Genevieve’s heart nearly exploded out of her chest. It had been a setup. For what, she didn’t know yet. But everyone else was in on something.

  She had to get away. Immediately.

  But everyone was staring at her. They stepped closer, surrounding her. Not giving her a chance for escape.

  Why hadn’t she listened to her instincts? Would that be the last mistake she ever made? Would she ever see her parents again? Her friends? Boyfriend? Graduate high school?

  Images from her life raced through her mind, everything from early memories to recent ones. She’d had a fight with her best friend Brittney that afternoon. They hadn’t made up. What if that was their last conversation ever?

  Someone grabbed Genevieve’s arms and yanked hard. She stumbled and gasped for air. Looked for Chelsea in the crowd. Everyone looked the same in the hoods and darkness.

  One person shouted something that made no sense. Everyone else responded, also not making any sense. They repeated the same line over and over.

  Chanting. They were chanting. The person holding her tightened his grip on her arms, digging his fingertips into her flesh. That would bruise. So much for wearing that sleeveless dress for her date the next night. If she even made it.

  All the robed figures lined up and marched around the fire. The guy holding her took large steps, making it hard for her to keep up without falling. Every time she stumbled, he dug his fingers tighter into her arms. It felt like he was digging right into the muscle.

  The chanting grew louder. The circle moved faster. It was hard to breathe.

  She struggled to free herself, but only earned herself more pain in her flesh. Then the guy wrapped his foot around her leg and let go of her arms.

  Genevieve fell to the ground, scraping her face on a jagged rock and knocking the wind out of her lungs. The chanting grew even louder. She tried to get up.

  People stepped on her. Feet dug into her back, her arms, her legs. Someone even stepped on her face. A pebble stuck in the bottom of the shoe sliced her skin.

  She cried out, but couldn’t even hear herself. Nobody was going to help her. She was in the middle of some woods she didn’t know. Her car was miles away at Chelsea’s house. She’d left her phone back at the cousin’s shack.

  Even if she could get away, that would only be the beginning. Getting home would be next to impossible. If she could even find her way back out of the woods.

  But she had to try. If she didn’t, she was giving up already.

  She struggled to get up, despite the parade of feet stomping on her. A foot stepped on her fingers. Pain shot from her middle finger and radiated out.

  Genevieve twisted and turned, managing to avoid the feet. She jumped up and fled the circle, ignoring the pains ripping through her.

  Must. Get. Away.

  Someone pulled on her hair, yanking her head back.

  She yelled, not that it did any good over the chants and crackling fire.

  The cloaked figure pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her chest, forcing her against him. She turned and bit down as hard as she could while at the same time kicking backward, aiming for his knees.

  He cried out, then shoved her toward the ground. She tried to catch herself, but crashed against a prickly bush.

  Hands yanked her back. Someone forced her back to the ground while another person yanked off her hoodie. The zipper scratched along her face and twigs dug into her flesh, her arms now fully exposed since she was only wearing a tank top.

  A hooded figure forced her onto her back and straddled her while two others held her arms and shoulders down.

  Genevieve screamed so loud it made her throat hurt. Not that it made any difference. She could barely hear herself, but that didn’t stop someone from pressing his nicotine-smelling hand over her mouth.

  She squirmed and tried biting, struggling to free herself from the impossible situation. Whatever they planned to do to her, she wasn’t going to make it easy. They underestimated her if they thought she’d give up before she lost consciousness.

  The hand covering her mouth moved closer to her nose until it pressed against her nostrils, blocking the air.

  She couldn’t breathe!

  Genevieve fought harder than ever. Not that it did much good. Rocks and twigs dug into her flesh while the hands holding her down applied more pressure. Someone struck her cheek. Spit sprayed across her face.

  Everything faded into darkness.

  Connection

  Nick tried to remain calm. His chest tightened and a lump formed in his throat.

  Genevieve sobbed in his arms, shaking and cold. He pulled her onto his lap, rubbing her back and trying to kiss away her tears. But there was nothing he could do to take away what had happened to her.

  It was nothing short of a miracle that she’d survived the attack. He wanted to ask how she’d gotten away. Where she’d woken up. What those bastards had done to her after she’d blacked out.

  Instead, he just held her and let her weep. It was all he could do to keep from crying along with her, but he needed to be strong for her.

  Ava walked past, dressed and with her hair styled and full face of makeup. She arched a brow at Nick.

  He waved her away.

  She mouthed, “Going to Braylon’s.”

  Nick nodded. Normally, he’d double-check that her boyfriend’s parents would be home, but he’d deal with that later. Ava knew the rules. And the consequences of breaking said rules.

  She hurried outside, and Genevieve didn’t seem to notice the distraction.

  Nick comforted her as best he could while fighting his own tears, until she finally gasped for air and rubbed her eyes. She’d cried away her eye makeup. She looked so vulnerable.

  It suffocated him. He struggled to breathe.

  He found his voice. “When did you wake up?”

  Genevieve swallowed. “Light was starting to shine through the trees but it was still pretty dark.” Her voice was shaky. “The bonfire had burned out and
nobody was in sight. Not even Chelsea. I didn’t know if they’d left me for dead. With as badly as I hurt, it seemed likely.”

  Nick cupped her chin and stared into her beautiful gray eyes. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

  She frowned. “I’m only strong because I have to be. What other choice do I have after enduring that?”

  “Not many people would choose to become an officer and face people like your attackers every day.”

  Her expression intensified. “I want to serve justice.”

  “Understandable.” Nick cleared his throat. “How did you get home?”

  Genevieve twisted a strand of hair around her finger and tears shone in her eyes again.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “No, it’s okay. I actually…” She took a deep breath. “It’s good to talk about, even though it’s hard. Thank you for listening.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Think nothing of it.”

  She held his gaze for a moment before speaking. “I got up and ran. Everything hurt, but at least I had my sandals. I have no idea how long I ran. The sun was high in the sky by the time I came to a small stream. I was thirsty and hungry and desperate. The water was clear, so I drank it and I washed myself off, not knowing anything about washing away evidence.”

  Nick’s stomach tightened. He wanted to ask what evidence exactly, but if she didn’t want to talk about the specific injuries, he wasn’t going to push it. He was certain he knew the answer, even without her saying a word.

  Genevieve played with a nail before continuing. “Once I dried off, I kept going in the same direction as best I could with the thick trees blocking my way every so often. It was almost dark by the time I broke free of the woods. I didn’t know where I was, but I managed to flag down a car. Luckily, it was an off-duty officer, so I was in good hands. She drove me directly to the nearest hospital.”

  “What happened to your attackers?”

  “They ended up in jail. Even Chelsea. Turns out they were more than happy to snitch on each other to reduce their sentences. But then later it was discovered they’d actually murdered some people. I was lucky. None of them are ever supposed to get out because of the murder charges. That’s what allows me to sleep at night.”