CHAPTER THIRTY
Michaela
I had three healed hairline fractures. One on my cheekbone, one on my arm, and one on my hip. None of them had been severe enough to require casts or prevent me from moving, but their existence was proof enough that Jack had been mistreating me for far longer than I wanted to admit to myself much less anybody else. Shame enveloped me, but I had to look at it for what it was. The old injuries only helped to prove the story I was telling about a man so lost to the power that came with wealth and his drug habit, that he’d not only harmed his own girlfriend, he’d harmed other people as well.
I didn’t know how many girls would be willing to come forward, but I did know how I would get the message across that I needed them to tell their stories. The only problem I faced was how to get the call for help out to the woman I knew had access to the girls in question.
Thankfully, the answer to that problem came walking through my door with a scowl on her face and anger written into the line of her shoulders.
“Spill.”
Angela stood staring at me with her hands on her hips and a no-nonsense expression. How she’d sauntered into my room without someone stopping her was a question on my mind, one that would have to wait until I was done telling her what she wanted to know.
“Where would you like me to start?”
“From the beginning. When telling stories, that’s usually the best place to begin.”
Nodding my head, I weaved my fingers together in my lap. “The night Jack and I showed up at your diner, he hurt me.”
“How hurt are we talking?” she asked, her voice careful.
I swallowed. “As hurt as a man can make a woman.”
Sympathy softened her eyes and withered her shoulders. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
Shrugging it off, I decided against mentioning it wasn’t the first time. The only information relevant at the moment was Holden. I’d become a new person since falling for him, a stronger person. The injuries against the Michaela of the past couldn’t matter anymore. I wouldn’t be able to run away from it forever, but for now, I had to roll back my shoulders and charge through it...for Holden, and for the person I wanted to be because of him.
“Thanks, but that’s not what scares me right now.” Pausing , I realized how it did scare me, even though I’d tried to convince myself otherwise. But it wasn’t just me. It was all the girls used at the parties, the ones I failed to protect, the ones I’d failed to speak up for. I needed to change that.
“Anyway, after Jack did that, I ran off, and I ended up at Holden’s house. I was friends with his sister. We were on the same dance team, so I knew where she lived. Holden took one look at me and said I could hide at his house and that’s where I’ve been for the past two weeks.”
Holding up her hand, she said, “Let me stop you there. How is it you were able to run on foot to Holden’s house?”
“We were on his side of town so that Jack could buy drugs.”
Understanding flashed over her face. “That’s what I thought. Okay, continue.”
“Holden and I...” My voice trailed off, the tears coming back again as sobs threatened my chest. “We’re more than friends. He...I love him, Angela. He’s an amazing person and his art...”
I could barely speak around the pain in my heart. “I want to help him. I want to make up for everything the town has done to his life. It’s not fair. He’s worth so much more than the bad luck he’s been handed. It’s like the universe is against him.”
She barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I can agree with you on that. If that boy were a character in a book, I would swear the author hated him. I’d never let him buy a lottery ticket for me either. With his luck, I’d end up owing them money.”
A sigh blew over my lips. “Angela, I don’t think Delilah is alive. Or if she is, I don’t think she’s at his house.”
Angela’s eyes widened, pain and worry flashing across her expression. “Why?”
“Her room. I never saw it before the accident that killed her parents, but it doesn’t look like a nineteen year old woman lives there. Her walls are still covered with pictures of high school. But, I thought that could be a result of her head injury, or some psychological trauma, so I didn’t really worry about it until she supposedly came home two days ago.”
“What happened then?”
My fingers tightened over each other, the tears I’d been trying to contain finally free to fall down my cheeks. “He swore she was in the house, and any time he went in her room, he saw her. He even took her a plate of food. But when I went in, the room was empty. She wasn’t there.”
Cursing under her breath, she looked up at the ceiling and back to me. “You’re sure? She wasn’t just in the bathroom? In the closet? Under the bed?”
I just looked at her.
“Well,” she threw up her hands. “I would rather believe his sister has some strange love of hiding than believe that Holden has been imagining her for the past two years. He lives for that girl.”
My voice low, I suggested, “He was shot trying to defend Delilah. If he is imagining her, it’s severe.”
“Yeah,” she replied, swatting a tear from her face that had escaped her eye. “I know it. That’s what he told me.”
My eyes rounded. “You’ve seen him?”
Laughter shook her shoulders. “I snuck into his room same as I snuck into yours.”
“Don’t they have police posted outside?”
More laughter. “Yes. To get in Holden’s room, I had to convince the rookie officer to go look for his superior. To get in here, I had to wait until he wasn’t looking and just run past him. They really should fire that guy. He’s a shitty cop.”
My heart felt like it would tear from my chest. “How is Holden?”
“Drugged up and strapped to a bed, but other than that he seemed fine. He’s worried about his sister and asked me to find her. Now, how the hell am I supposed to do that if she doesn’t actually exist any longer?”
A thought occurred to me the instant she asked the question. “The nurse who went with me for the x-rays. She said Holden broke her heart two years ago, so I assume she worked with him after the accident. Maybe she would know what happened to Delilah.”
She flicked a quick glance at the door before turning to me and saying, “It’s worth a shot. What does the nurse look like?”
“Black hair. Pretty brown eyes. Purple scrubs. Tough as nails demeanor. Kind of reminds me of you.”
A smile stretched her lips. “Then she should be easy to find. Bitch calls to bitch. We’ll meet eyes and just know we like each other.”
Nodding, I could hear noise out in the hallway, and I knew instantly that someone would be coming in the room, giving me little time to tell Angela the rest of what I needed her to do.
“There’s one other thing,” I mentioned, my voice soft for fear whoever was on the other side of the door would hear me. “I need to come clean about something that’s been happening in town for several years now, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to do it on my own. I need to get a message out.” My eyes locked to hers, “Can you help me?”
“Whatever you need, Michaela. Personally, I’m sick of the way things are in Tranquil Falls.”
Giving me a pointed look, she’d admitted she knew more about the secrets of the town without having to say a word.
Grabbing a scrap of paper and a pen, I wrote a name and phone number down. Handing it over, I said, “Call this person. Tell her I asked you to call. Then ask her to get in touch with the others. She’ll know what it’s about. Just tell her I’m not missing like the news says. You can also tell her what happened the night I showed up at Holden’s, between Jack and me. She’ll understand.”
Brows lifting, Angela didn’t ask any questions, she simply pocketed the scrap paper and inclined her head. Right on time, too. Officer Shay returned, his body barging through the door of my hospital room, his face set in a mask of irritation.
“You again? Who the hell let you in here?”
Angela smiled. “It’s a busy night for fortune telling apparently. But you showed up too late. I just finished shoving the crystal ball back up my ass. Not that it’s needed to know what’ll happen to you.”
“Get out!” he roared.
Angela simply chuckled before leaving, unimpressed with Officer Shay’s booming voice. He slammed the door behind her, his face turning to me, the skin red from anger. “So, I hear you have some old injuries. You sure those aren’t from dance?”
Anger filtered through me. Somehow, I already knew that would be his first response. “I’m sure. They’re from Jack Thorne. And regardless of how badly you want to protect the criminal and paint him as the victim, I won’t let you.”
“Is this your official statement, Ms. Paige? That you ran off after Jack attacked you and have been hiding in Mr. Bishop’s house for the past two weeks?”
“My official statement,” I corrected him, “is that Jack raped me, and then when I got upset and tried to leave, he hit me and cracked my cheekbone. I ran after that and he chased me, but I managed to get away. I showed up at Holden’s and have been hiding there ever since.”
He scowled, his body practically vibrating with anger. “And you expect people to believe that?”
Regardless of his attempts to intimidate me, I wouldn’t give ground. “What reason do you have not to believe me?”
“How about the fact that Jack is still missing?”
My brows lifted. “Perhaps he ran because he was afraid I’d go to the police? Or perhaps something went wrong with his drug deal? Or maybe he did too many drugs and he’s in one of the abandoned houses? I don’t know. I can’t answer those question, because I ran off.”
Stressing those last words, I glared in Officer Shay’s direction. He glared back, frustrated that I wasn’t crying and offering some confession regarding Jack.
Pointing his finger in my direction, he snapped, “I’m holding both you and Mr. Bishop for twenty-four hours, and you better hope like hell we don’t find a reason to hold you longer.”
Knowing this man would dump me in a dungeon and forget about me if he had the chance, I made my demands.
“I want my parents notified that I’m here.”
A bark of laughter shook his shoulders. “You’re not a minor. We have no duty to contact your parents.”
I grinned. “Fine, then I want to speak to an attorney. He’ll call my parents, and when they find out that you found me and didn’t bother notifying them, I’m sure they’ll love to discuss pulling all the donations they make to your police force.”
Our eyes met and I smiled, knowing I’d cornered him. “Guess you forgot that Jack’s family isn’t the only one that keeps you in a cushy, well paid job.”
Giving my words some thought, he cursed between clenched teeth and turned to walk out the door. Before he stepped through, he cast me one last angry glare. “I’ll call your parents. Not that it will do you any good.”
Slamming the door, he left me alone in the room, tears welling in my eyes both from fear and anger: Fear that they would somehow pin all of this on Holden, and anger that Officer Shay hadn’t been wrong.
Calling my parents wouldn’t do me much good, but it would stall the process, giving Angela time to do what I’d asked her to do.