“You shouldn’t have done that,” I scolded, even though it really wasn’t a scold. How could I reprimand the woman I loved when she was tucked into my lap, curled against my body, and shivering from whatever the fuck just took over her body and mind?
I was mad, though. Flaming, red hot, wanting to leave a fist-sized dent in anything nearby.
“I g-got some in-information,” she said, her teeth chattering slightly.
“It wasn’t worth the price you paid.”
“I think maybe it was,” she refuted.
The way she shivered proved her wrong. The way she collapsed into my arms when I stepped off the elevator proved me right.
My heart damn near stopped in my chest when she was immobile in my arms, unresponsive to any of my attempts to wake her.
I’d never seen anything like it before. Not until Am. The way the past took over, sweeping in without even a second’s notice to push out all the present and quite literally drag her back into the bygone.
Even though she appeared somewhat peaceful as I supported her body in my arms, it was anything but. I knew a war waged inside her mind. I knew she wasn’t really present with me when a memory took over.
The minutes I had to wait it out, to keep myself from literally losing my shit, were long and arduous. I took her down the elevator, back onto the floor where we’d been waiting. Mary B saw me step off the car with her and opened her mouth to yell for help. One firm shake of my head and the words died against her tongue.
She led us into an empty room, the closest one she could find. It was way better than the waiting room, as I wasn’t sure what kind of condition Am would be when she came back to me.
This time she didn’t run from the room or vomit all the contents of her belly. But it hadn’t been a cakewalk either.
The second the past let her go, her body went rigid in my lap. I stayed still for long moments, my arms and hands hovering around her in case she jerked so fast she tumbled off me toward the floor. I didn’t touch her, though. I was afraid to. I had to see what kind of condition she was in before I wrapped her close.
The last thing I wanted was for her to feel trapped or confined.
She glanced up, breathing heavy, wetness covering her cheeks. I clenched my jaw, my back teeth slamming together as I tried not to react the way I wanted, instead trying to be what she needed.
Am reached for me, fisting her fingers in the front of my shirt and curling into my center. That was my cue, the signal it was okay to hold her tight.
We sat there a while. I didn’t say anything, though I sorely wanted to give her hell.
What the fuck was she thinking just disappearing like that? Slipping out of the waiting room while I talked to the cops. When I saw she was gone, my fucking chest nearly collapsed.
Wild fear shot through me, adrenaline surged, and I searched everywhere I could think of. Just when I was about out of my ever-loving mind, I remembered the widow.
“Don’t do that again,” I intoned. I guess I wasn’t done scolding her.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “Please don’t be mad.”
I groaned. I swear, women (this one in particular) would be the death of me. “I’m not mad at you, baby.” My fingers dragged up and down along her side. “You scared me.”
“I just wanted to help.”
“I know.” I kissed the top of her head.
“Are the police still here?”
“Not a clue,” I remarked as though it didn’t even matter. Though, inside, everything was on high alert. Why would she want to know about the cops? Did she have something to tell them? I wanted to demand the answers, but I knew better. Pushing her would cause her pain, and frankly, that outweighed my need for info.
“Where are we?” She glanced around, still not lifting her cheek from my chest. It was telling, you know. The clinginess.
That memory hadn’t been pleasant.
I was starting to wonder if she had anything good at all from her past to remember. All she ever remembered was hell.
“Just a private room. Same floor as the waiting room.”
“Any word on Robbie?”
“Not yet.”
“I had another memory,” she informed me. Her voice was low, scared to even bring it up.
“Because you saw Widow West,” I whispered.
“She’s the only one with answers.” Am defended herself. “I had to try.”
“Seeing her triggered a memory.” My voice was flat and unhappy.
Amnesia pushed up in my lap, sitting so we were face to face. “No,” she refuted. “It was what she said.”
My eyebrows shot up. “She woke up?”
She nodded. “I told her about Sadie, Robbie… everything. I begged her to tell me where he might be. At first, I thought she couldn’t hear me, but then… she replied.”
“What did she say?” I demanded.
“It’s her son,” Amnesia intoned, dropping back against my chest. Her fingers returned to the front of my shirt, twisting the fabric. “The man who kidnapped us, it’s Widow West’s son.”
“Her son,” I echoed. My mind was spinning. “But…”
“I know. The headstone we saw. She must have had a baby who died… before she had him.” Then almost to herself, Am added, “It’s why she didn’t want to lose him. Too much loss.”
“Daniel,” I whispered.
“Who?”
“That’s his name.” I glanced down. “Sadie told me.”
“I didn’t remember.”
“She said you weren’t allowed to call him that,” I explained, trying to make her feel better about not knowing.
Amnesia shivered into me. “He’s not well. There’s something wrong with him.”
I grunted. That much was blatantly obvious. No one in their right mind would do to them what that sick fuck had done. “What else did she say, Am?”
“Not much, really. She wanted to know where he was. Seemed almost desperate we find him. I got the feeling she was scared he was out there… unsupervised.”
I made a rude sound, my chest jerking with the force of it. “Yeah, ‘cause he was so much more in control when she was supervising him.”
Amnesia tilted her head up. “I think… I think maybe he was.”
My jaw clenched. “What did you remember?”
Her voice slipped into monotone, her limbs rigid even though I tried to comfort her.
“She helped me one night, gave me first aid on an…” She glanced up, timid. “An injury on my shoulder—”
I was the one who was rigid now. “What kind of injury?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Yes.” I shook her lightly, trying to make her understand. “Yes, I do.”
I had to know. I had to at least try and understand, to be burdened with the same memories as her. She wasn’t alone anymore. I would shoulder this with her.
“It was a bite.” Her voice was strained. Tired. “He liked to bite me… chew on my skin.”
I bit the inside of my mouth, bit down so hard the metallic tang of blood hit my tongue. “Go on,” I rasped.
“It was the first time I’d ever spoken to her or really had contact with her at all. She usually only ever bothered with Sadie. I asked her. She told me she was his mother. She seemed sorry…”
“Not sorry enough.” The remark ripped right out of me.
“No. Not sorry enough. She said she knew he wasn’t well. She seemed to believe he didn’t understand what he was doing to us was wrong.”
I laughed. This was disgusting.
“Why would she help him? Why would she let us be tortured that way? Locked in a hole, no sunlight… no hope.”
“Am.” I stroked her hair. For a moment, she paused, rubbing her cheek against my chest.
“Your shirt,” she whispered, still rubbing her cheek over the fabric.
“What about it?”
“I don’t like it,” she whispered. “There’s too much between us.”
I ripped the shirt over my head, throwing it onto the floor in front of us, where it slid a few feet before stopping in the center of the room.
Amnesia wound her arms around me, scooting so close it was almost as if she were trying to climb beneath my skin. The second her cheek hit my bare chest, she sighed and her body gave a great shudder of relief.
I swallowed thickly. Emotion so dense made me feel I might choke.
“You make me feel safe,” she whispered.
“You are safe,” I swore.
“She said she couldn’t lose him. She didn’t want him to be taken away. She hid him there, on the island. I doubt anyone even knew she had a son.”
“No one in Lake Loch knew,” I said, sifting through a lifetime’s worth of gossip and town knowledge. “She was always alone when she came for supplies.”
“She thought people would take him away if they knew what he was.”
“She was right,” I growled.
“She made it sound as though we were responsible for keeping him contained. She told me… She said we were a small price to pay for the safety of everyone else.”
The widow lost her husband, and her son grew up to be insane. I could feel sorry for her, the fact she lost a child, a husband, and all she had left was her son. I could sympathize with her pain and understand she was afraid to lose everything.
I didn’t.
In my eyes, this woman was no better than the son she unleashed on two innocent girls. Look what she’d done! She’d broken Sadie and drove Am to suicide. All to try and keep her son in control.
You can’t control darkness, though, not when you have no light.
“Did she say where he could be?” I asked. The need to find this guy and rip him apart was so strong my fingers shook.
“No. But I have a feeling he wouldn’t go far, not with all three of his possessions here.”
“You are not his,” I demanded.
“He doesn’t see it that way.” Her voice was small. “Sadie and the widow seem to think so as well.”
“No,” I ground out. “I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks, says, or does. You are not his.”
Her hand flattened on my chest. “I know.”
I clutched her close, thinking about how all this time, evil lived right in our backyard. Did that make us all responsible? Was the entire town of Lake Loch at fault for not realizing what was happening right beneath our noses?
“I still don’t know where I came from,” Am said, drawing my attention back. “I have a feeling not even the widow knows. It’s like he just left one day, probably in a fit of rage about Sadie… and came back with me.”
And that psycho mother of his acted as if he’d brought home a dog and chained her up. Let him “keep” her.
Sick fucks. Both of them.
“It doesn’t matter where you came from,” I told her passionately. “Because you’re now where you belong.”
The door opened, and Mary Beth came in. My head snapped up so fast, my protective instincts on overdrive. Mary must have seen the wild look in my eyes; hers widened and her lips formed a small O.
“I, uh… Robbie is out of surgery,” she said, taking a step back toward the door.
Forcing myself to relax, I waved her closer. “How is he?”
“He’s stable but still in serious condition. The doctors are optimistic, but of course not promising anything. They want to give him a couple days.”
“Can we see him?” Am asked, perking up.
Mary Beth shook her head. “He’s still in recovery, heavily sedated.”
“How long?” I asked. It felt we’d been waiting here for days already.
“I’m not sure. They probably won’t let you see him until tomorrow.”
“Are the police still here?” Am wanted to know.
Mary B nodded. “They’re putting one outside his room once he’s moved. His parents are here, too.”
“Thank you,” I told her, sincere. “I really appreciate you calling me.”
She nodded and whispered, “You really think it was Sadie?”
Word got around fast. Big surprise there. Not.
“We can’t be sure,” Amnesia said, but at the very same time, I said, “Yes.”
She glanced up at me, surprised and worried. “Eddie…”
I touched her face, smiling sadly. “It’s okay, Am. I don’t want to believe it, but who else could it be?”
After hearing about Sadie being not only abused and tortured, but exposed to two freaking whack jobs for eleven years, it seemed nearly impossible for it not to rub off.
Brainwashed + Battered + Imprisoned = enough to turn anyone crazed enough to kill.
Glancing down at Amnesia, I couldn’t help but marvel at how fucking lucky she was. How fucking lucky I was.
She could have been just like Sadie. Just like the widow. But she wasn’t. Her mind figured out the greatest defense of them all.
Amnesia.
Protecting her seemed more important than ever.
“I hope they find her,” Mary Beth said morosely. “I hope she gets the help she needs.”
“Me, too.” I agreed.
“Okay, well, if you want to go home, I can call with updates on Robbie. I really don’t think you’ll be able to see him until tomorrow at the earliest. He’s going to be in recovery the rest of the day. The police probably won’t even be able to question him.”
“Thanks.” I nodded.
She turned to go, looking back. “Can I just say you two look like shit? I really hope you take my advice and go home. Get some rest.”
I laughed. “Way to keep it real, Mary B.”
Amnesia giggled.
“That’s what friends are for,” she quipped, then went back to work.
“I need to tell the police what I know. It’s not much, but maybe his name will help. It’s something.”
“Yeah,” I murmured. “It’s something.”
“Eddie?” Amnesia lifted her cheek.
I grunted.
“If you want to be out there looking for Sadie, I understand. You should go.”
“Are you kidding?” I scoffed. “I turn my back on you for one second and you’re off interrogating patients and having memories.”
Okay, I tried. It was a joke, but that shit just wasn’t funny.
“I promise I’ll behave,” she vowed, a little sparkle in her eyes.
Maybe it was a little funny.
“I’m staying with you.” I committed. “You’re the most important thing to me.” It wasn’t as if I wasn’t freaked out of my mind for Sadie. Part of me wanted to go search for her. I felt I might be the only one who could reason with her. Even though she probably tried to carve up my best friend, I still cared about her. I still wanted to get her help.
“This isn’t her fault,” I murmured. “She’s just…”
“I know.” Amnesia put her hand over mine. “I know.”
I pressed my lips to her forehead, and we fell into silence.
The whole time we sat there, I couldn’t help but wonder…
Where the hell could Sadie be?