Corrupted Union

22

“I’ll just drop this in his room and let myself out.” “All right, dear. Holler if you need me.” “Thanks, Hannah.” She smiled warmly and headed back toward the kitchen. I bolted up the stairs. Instead of turning right toward Stetson’s room, I hooked to my left and hurried up the small second floor stairwell to the third floor. Hands trembling, I used the key to unlock the deadbolt and opened the door. My lungs seized at the sight of the girl huddled in her corner with a small blanket around her. From what I could tell, the floral dress was gone. Outrage burned the back of my throat. The injustice of it all threatened to take my legs out from under me—that she was being forced to endure such inhumanities, and that I was forced to let it happen. I’d never felt such crippling anger in my entire life. The helplessness, however, was familiar, and I hated it. The girl jumped to her feet at the sight of me. Her face lifted with desperate hope that this was the escape she’d been praying for. That this time, I was here to save her. I suddenly questioned whether my return would do more harm than good because now I had to crush her hope all over again. “I’m so sorry,” I pleaded, extending the small piece of paper I’d prepared for her. I’d translated a message into Russian explaining that the man holding her is very powerful and that we were working on freeing her soon. As her eyes scanned the words, her trembling intensified until I didn’t know how she could possibly see the words. “I’m … I’m so sorry.” My voice failed me. All I had was a wisp of breath that managed to squeeze past my heart lodged in my throat. The paper drifted to the floor, two heavy tears from her cheeks following after it. “So, so sorry,” I continued to murmur as I picked up the paper and stuffed it in my pocket. Regret engulfed me with enough fiery shame that I felt as though my skin was burning from the inside. How dare I let this girl’s suffering go on when I could free her? Had I been brave enough, I could have brought bolt cutters and gotten her out of the damn house. I could have gone into hiding —better that than know I was the reason she was still trapped in hell. Ro, please don’t do this. It’s not your fault. Maybe not initially, but the fact she’s still here is on my shoulders. Was there still time? Maybe I could find something that would cut the chain in the garage. I had to save her. I had to at least try. I clasped her hands in mine and explained I’d be right back. She seemed to understand my sudden urgency, her face lifting warily to study mine. I gave her hands one last squeeze and rushed out the door, not wasting time to lock it behind me. I hurried down to the second floor and had one foot on the main stairs before I realized I wasn’t alone. My entire body froze—heart and lungs and internal organs all suspended in time—as I registered that Lawrence Wellington was walking up the stairs with another man. A man with a gnarled scar stretching from his left temple to the corner of his mouth and frigid eyes so light blue, they looked bionic. A hailstorm of questions rained down in my mind. Why was he here? Who was the scarred man? Were they going for the girl? Had they seen that I’d come from the wrong direction? Even if they hadn’t, if they went to her room, they’d surely notice that the door had been left unlocked. s**t! s**t, s**t, s**t, Ro. You need to get your ass out of here now. I smiled broadly. “Hey, Mr. Wellington!” “Rowan, I didn’t realize you were here.” “Yeah, sorry about that. I just stopped in to leave a note for Stetson since I couldn’t make it to his game.” I took a couple of casual steps downward, desperately trying to control my breathing so I didn’t sound winded. “That’s very thoughtful of you,” he said without any real feeling. “I was in the area helping Mom anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal. Hope you don’t mind.” I flashed him another grin, this one dripping with beguiling innocence, though the mask almost cracked when my eyes cut briefly to the scarred man. His eviscerating stare cut straight through me. “Not at all,” Wellington said. “I’ll just get out of your way and head back to my parents’.” I seized the courage to rush past them. “Sorry again to interrupt.” “Tell your father hello from me,” he said in an even, chilling tone. “Sure thing,” I called out without turning around. I couldn’t because fear had drained the blood from my face. Had that been a threat? Would Lawrence Wellington hurt my father to keep me silent? Was I just being paranoid? I pictured the poor girl shackled upstairs and knew that every fear where he was concerned was reasonable. The man was an evil monster, and I’d just put myself square in his sights. I never made a conscious decision to go in search of Keir, but that was where my feet took me. I texted him and called but got no answer. Giving up wasn’t an option. I had to find him. The afternoon sun had descended enough to streak the sky with hints of tangerine by the time I walked up to the entrance at Moxy. This time, I didn’t pause before pulling open the door and marching inside. I came faceto-face with a behemoth of a man working the entrance. “I’m looking for Keir.” Please, please don’t be difficult. “Boss ain’t here,” he said without hesitation. He was telling the truth. I swallowed back the bitter taste of disappointment. “Can you tell me where he is? I tried to call him, but he isn’t answering.” The man smirked. “Maybe that means you should take a hint?” “I’ll just wait, then,” I bit out, folding my arms over my chest to indicate I wasn’t going anywhere. He glanced back into the club. “That’s not a bad idea, now that you mention it. You were pretty fuckin’ hot up there. Maybe while you wait, you can show us what else you can do.” He rolled a piece of gum from one side of his mouth to the other with a lascivious grin. I refused to react to his goading. “Look, princess. You can’t stand there all fuckin’ night.” “I’m happy to leave. Just tell me where I can find your boss, and I’ll be out of here.”