Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 137310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Her face finished crumbling and she dropped it into her hand.
God.
“Can I touch you?” I asked.
She nodded her head but didn’t take it out of her hand.
I scooched closer, and careful of her injured arm, I drew her into both of mine.
She still didn’t pull her face out of her hand as she cried into my T-shirt. She cried quiet, but there were big gulps and body heaves to share how hard she was doing it.
I let her have at it, and it lasted a really long time.
When it started to let up, I whispered, “Stay here. I’m gonna get some Kleenex.”
I shot out of the room, hit the laundry/storage area that was on the other side of the hall, nabbed a new box of tissues, and hauled ass back.
I tore off the cardboard opening, yanked out about five and handed them to her after I sat back on the bed.
She was still weeping but she wiped her eyes.
I handed her more and she blew her nose.
“Feel better?” I asked softly.
“N-no.”
Of course not.
Stupid question, Diana!
“I mean in the now.”
“No!” she cried, and I jumped at the force of it.
I’d never heard her be loud at all.
“He’s gonna hurt them. He’s gonna hurt you. He’s gonna hurt me.”
Oh, poor Suzette, sitting in this room, stewing in that fear.
“You’re safe here,” I promised.
“No I’m not. He knows them. He knows them and he wants to hurt them.”
My blood ran cold.
“He wants to hurt who?”
“H-hugger. And Eight and Muzzle and even B-b-big Petey!”
“How do you know that?”
She yanked the phone out from under her thigh and stated, “Because when I got away, I stole his phone. He talks to me. He tells me what he’s gonna do if I don’t come back to him. And I just want him to do it, Diana. Go back to him. I’m so tired. So tired of…of…of everything. And I can’t let him hurt you or…or…the guys.”
Dang, crap, shit.
“I need you to give me that phone, Suzette. And then I need to give it to Detective Scott.”
“I need a phone so you can get in touch with me.”
“I’ll get you another one. I don’t want you to use his anymore and he shouldn’t have any communication with you. Not any at all. And I think it’s important that the police have that phone.”
That seemed to stun her.
“You’ll get me a phone?”
“Yes. Like you said, we need to talk.”
“But phones are expensive.”
I forced a smile on my face. “I can’t promise to get you the latest and greatest. But you’ll be able to call, text, and download some phone games.”
She hesitated a second, then handed over Imran Babić’s phone.
I felt dirty just touching it.
“You know the code?” I asked.
She nodded. “I saw him put it in. He wasn’t being careful because he…he…well, he thought I’d passed out.”
I flinched for her.
“I changed it though,” she went on. “It’s two, two, three, two.”
“Got it. I’ll be back again.”
“Okay.”
I left her and nearly ran into Hugger in the hall.
He’d heard her No! and was loitering outside Suzette’s door.
“Okay?” he asked in a growl.
I shook my head, grabbed his hand and dragged him to the living room.
Big Petey was alert and sitting on the edge of the couch.
He’d heard the No! too.
He stood when I let Hugger go and headed right to him.
I handed him the phone.
“That’s Imran Babić’s phone. She stole it.”
“Jesus,” he murmured.
“Christ,” I heard Hugger say behind me.
I ran to the kitchen, opened my junk drawer and found Detective Scott’s card tucked right where I left it. I nabbed it and dashed back to Big Petey.
“Can you call Detective Scott? Tell him we have Babić’s phone.” I handed him the card.
“Will do.”
“The code is two, two, three, two,” I shared. “And Big Petey, he’s been communicating with her. Threatening her, me, us.”
“Motherfucker,” he gritted.
Hugger said nothing, but I felt the wall of anger coming from him slamming into me.
“I gotta get back to her,” I said to them both.
“Go,” Big Petey urged.
I ran back to Suzette’s room and went right in.
She was up against the headboard, hugging a pillow to her chest, her good arm folded around her calves, curled into herself, still terrified, clearly having taken that time to convince herself she’d done wrong.
I sat back down on the bed.
And I made a scary decision.
But I sensed I had an in.
And I was going to take it.
“I know your name isn’t Suzette,” I told her.
She winced and curled deeper into herself.
“I’m not mad about that either,” I assured her. “I’m not mad about anything, except what was done to you. You were protecting yourself.”
“I don’t want them to find my parents.”
“Who don’t you want to find your parents? Did that man threaten them too?”
“No, not him. The police. I don’t want them to tell my folks where I am.”