Gavin
I’ve never hated myself more than I do now. When Demi said she was going up alone I thought I’d give it five minutes tops.
Shit. I pull her in, and she loses it. Demi buries her face in my chest, wetting the front of my shirt with her tears.
Josh lies motionless on the floor, his hair clotted with blood.
This fucker knew one of us was coming up after Demi. He knew he had seconds to do what his twisted mind decided on as soon as he laid eyes on her. You could see the lust enliven him the moment he saw Demi.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper into her hair. “Let’s get out of here.”
I lead her downstairs, back into the living room just in time to catch a glimpse of a patrol car speeding toward the house.
So much for hauling ass.
It’s in that moment I know what I need to do.
Caleb stands. His face looks bleak as if he just racked up a body count himself.
“Nora felt she needed to contact the authorities.”
Wish I could say I was surprised.
“Why is that?” I ask as Demi pulls back her shoulders with a new resolve. Demi has balls, tough as steel.
Nora steps forward until she’s an arms length from Demi.
“Should you tell them Demitria? Or should I?”
Demi arches her neck as if bracing for the storm.
The old battleax looks from me to Caleb. “Demi, as you know her, is a prolific storyteller. I’m not sure what version of the truth she’s fed you, but I’m fairly certain it wasn’t the right one.”
“And which one is that?” Caleb asks with a resolute boredom as the police give a brisk knock at the door.
Nora lifts her chin. Her slit eyes settle over the woman I love.
“I’m sorry it’s come to this.” She bleeds a quiet smile that recants her sugarcoated words. “Demitria spent the last six months of her time here incarcerated under the care of a top notch psychiatrist. One night, I found her unresponsive, and she was rushed to the hospital. As they were transferring her—she managed to escape.”
What the hell is she talking about?
I glance to Demi for some hint of this not being true, but she looks pale, frightened.
“Demitria isn’t well. She’s never recovered from her father’s death. It drove her to the brink of insanity.” Nora rides her judgmental gaze over Demi. “She’s prone to doing all sorts of erratic things that can put her in harm’s way. She’s a danger to herself and others.”
Reeva’s house bounces through my mind, then Josh lying twisted and bloodied on the floor.
“So, you see”—Nora pauses as the police are escorted into the room by a housekeeper—“as she was in my care when she left, it’s my responsibility to have her recommitted.” She looks to Demi. “I’ll have the finest doctors evaluate you. Your father would want nothing less. We’ll get you settled on your medication, and you’ll be right as rain. Don’t worry”—her features contort to a whole new level of wickedness—“you’ll stay right here at Winter Haven.” She strokes Demi’s hair, but Demi doesn’t move. Demi has turned to stone in this woman’s presence. “Josh?” Nora calls toward the stairs. “Joshua, come quickly, I’ll need you to help escort Demitria back to Dr. Lundgreen.”
I clear my throat. “Josh isn’t coming down.” Then add without missing a beat, “I killed him.”
“What the fuck?” Caleb says it calm and cool like only an attorney can. His eyes hold a look of amusement, but he’s shaking his head as if I’ve just stuffed my own leg in a wood chipper, and I did.
“You read the police report. You tell me.”
We’re seated in a dingy dining hall of the downtown Brody Police Department. They threw my ass in a holding cell with about fifteen drunks and two men who looked like they could stab my eyes out with their fingernails. It’s been four hours since they dragged Demi out of Winter Haven, the police had me spread eagle with a nightstick to my back, my hands in temporary restraints. All I could do was watch her leave. It gutted me from my balls to my heart. I can’t think of it without my chest aching.
“You’re right.” He leans in hard. “I’m aware of the police report. I memorized it like a fucking novena. Now you tell me why you’re covering for her.”
I glance up from the table. My blood runs cold, and, for a second I think I might pass out. If it weren’t for Demi, I’d want to black out permanently.
“Did she confess?”
He knocks his fist over the table. “You just did it for her.”
“You’re good. Now get out of my face and go find Demi wherever the hell they locked her up. Talk to her. Figure out what’s real and what’s fantasy.”
He takes a deep breath. “I did.” His features reconfigure until he looks sorry for me—sorry for Demi and himself included. “It all mapped out just the way the old coot drafted it. Demi was under the care of a topnotch psychiatrist. Her stepmother went as far as having a safe room built into the attic in the event Demi needed to be put in seclusion, and evidently it happened routinely. It wasn’t just for the last six months she spent at Winter Haven. The incarcerations began shortly after her father died.”
My stomach bottoms out. I know for a fact it felt like I was about to lose my mind after my parents died. My gut wrenches at what Demi must have gone through. The guilt she hauled around was enough to drive anyone mad. Add to that an asshole who thinks taking advantage of her is a great idea, and you have a recipe for disaster.
“Locking her up at Winter Haven? That can’t be legal.” It’s all I can say. Why didn’t Demi tell me any of this? But then again up until a day ago I still thought her name was Emmy.
“Nora had the state sanction it as a designated inpatient psychiatric facility.”
“That for sure doesn’t sound legal.”
“Lot’s of things are legal when you throw enough money at them and the campaign funds of the congressmen in your district. Tit for tat. This was easy.” He bounces his knuckles off the Formica. “Gavin, your girlfriend downed nineteen barbiturates just two months before she managed to escape. That’s no joke. She had a death wish and wasn’t afraid to make it happen.”
“She didn’t die.” But I understand her need to. I’ve been down that dark road. Losing the people you love is painful. And all Demi was left with was Nora and her need to control her—not to mention Josh and his urge to rape her nightly. My heart breaks for Demi all over again. I close my eyes and feel her. I can feel Demi wrapping her arms around me, and right now that’s the only thing I want in this world—her right here with me.
“So what happens next?”
He shakes his head. “You forgot to ask about the body you left upstairs with a fractured skull.” There’s a glint of pride and disgust in his eyes, and for the first time I see a hint of Warren in him.
“He died. The end. The fires of hell are happy. Are we through?”
“No, we’re not through. He’s alive. He was knocked unconscious. He has a nasty concussion, but he’ll come around.” His brows rise. “You sure you’re ready to perjure yourself in front of a judge and jury? Because, if you are, that guarantees you a stay at the Hardknocks Hilton. A pretty boy like you gets special treatment at a place like that. If that’s the road you take, I’ll gift you a case of KY Jelly.” He rests his chin on his fist. “You’ll need it.”
I wince at the idea. “I can’t let Demi take the fall.”
“Her jeans were undone when she came downstairs. She looked like she just stepped in front of a train. He assaulted her. Stick with the truth. It’s a much neater ball of yarn to untangle.”
“What about jail?”
“No prison for her. Him maybe.” He hops to his feet. “I’ll let you marinate in this shithole until I can find someone who wants to put up bail.”
“What’s bail set at?”
“Twenty thousand dollars.”
“My lucky number.”
“No worries. Just make the right choice by the time I get back.”
“Forget about me. Get to Demi!” I shout as he walks down the hall.
“On my way there right now.”
An officer shows up and tosses me back in the think tank.
I lie on the hard, cold bench bolted to the wall and wonder how the hell everything went so wrong.
A thousand scenarios run through my mind, and every one of them loops back to Demi and me, how right we are, how wrong everything around us always seems to be.
Demi and I are two trains colliding in the night just like my parents did with her father so long ago.
She kept saying she was cursed—that I’d hate her one day.
I shake my head at the idea. Even now she’s wrong.
Six hours sweep by with the velocity of a snail trailing through the desert. Caleb bails me out with more of Warren’s dirty money, and I’m pretty sure I just lost the cabin to him, too.
“Tell me where she is.” It’s all I say as we get back in my truck.
“You wouldn’t believe where she is if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“Winter Haven. Locked right back up in that asylum built for one.”
We head over to the gargantuan estate, and I can’t help but get sick at the sight of it. I realize it was her father’s long before her evil stepmother came onto the scene, but something about it looks cold, far too big to ever resemble a home. It’s a hotel, and, right now, it has its own resident evil, a true devil—and one beautiful angel locked in the attic—the woman I’m determined to make my wife.