Black Rose Page 3

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” I sniffled and wiped my eyes. “What would she allow herself to go through just to—”

  Noah reached over and squeezed my shoulder.

  “Whatever she needs to, bro.”

  Chapter 3

  Day Three

  —Lillian

  I woke up to the sound of Patsy Cline’s “I Fall To Pieces” blaring around me. It was eerie how it echoed through the walls. Her voice sounded so depressing and broken, just like us. It also seemed to be on repeat, and after the fourth time listening to it, I almost screamed for him to shut that shit off.

  “Anna, are you there?”

  “Where else would I be?”

  “Sorry. So what’s up with the song?”

  Kandace, who seemed to always respond abrasively and with little tact, decided to answer. “He plays it all the time, and it’s annoying as fuck!”

  There was a moment of silence between all of us as we listened to the song repeat over and over words of loneliness and heartache. It was his way of fucking with us; I got that. It didn’t make it less upsetting.

  “I didn’t get my period again,” Anna said.

  “Me either,” someone whispered. I was almost certain it was Ruth.

  “Shit.” I gotta get out of here. “It might just be stress or lack of food. Try not to think about it.”

  “Lee, I’m pregnant,” Anna said, her voice breaking.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Trust me, I’m sure.”

  This flipped a switch in me. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I doubted the asshole was strapping on a rubber when he came down here, but it added to the constant waves of fear, anger, and revulsion that seemed to course through my body ever since I’d gotten here. Saliva started filling my mouth and I was quick to move in the direction of where I knew my bucket was, but I somehow held the bile down.

  “So is that what you want, you sick fuck?” I shouted, after spitting the fluid out of my mouth and into the bucket. “To have us as your own sex slaves so you can breed? Sorry to tell you, jackass, but I’m on the shot. So you’re not getting me pregnant anytime soon.”

  “He’s not here, Lee,” Linda said over me. “He plays the music when he leaves and turns it off when he gets back.”

  “Well, isn’t that just peachy?” I said, and sat on my mattress. “I hope he gets struck by lightning.”

  “We can pray,” Anna said.

  “Yeah, and then we can all die from hunger,” a voice I thought might have been Sara spoke next.

  “I’m surprised he remembers to feed us at all. Well, feeds you all. I haven’t eaten anything since I’ve gotten here.”

  “Lee, when he was in your room, you said something about having a boyfriend. What was his name again?” Anna asked.

  I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face at the mention of Richard. That always seemed to happen when I thought of him, or if someone brought him up.

  “Richard,” I answered. “His name is Richard.”

  “So tell me about Richard,” Anna said. “How long have you two been together?”

  “For a little over a year, but we were friends for a year before that.” I smiled a little, letting the memory of him wash over me. The second I met Richard, I knew he was going to be the one for me. It was like I felt whole when he was around. “He is the most amazing man I’ve ever met.”

  “What does he look like?” Ruth asked.

  “He’s got shaggy, dark brown hair and blue eyes. He’s from California, so tall and fit, and has this permanent tan that makes me jealous every time he takes his shirt off.” I couldn’t help but laugh at myself with that last comment. Richard always made fun of me because I burned so easily. “He’s got a great smile, and an even better sense of humor. Sometimes I feel like he’s too good to be true. He always does these little things to make me feel special. Like, no matter how far apart our classes are, he runs across campus just to walk me to my next class.” I felt the tears starting to brim my eyes. “I never got to tell him that I loved him.”

  “I’m sure he knows, Lee,” Ruth said. “Guys just know those kinds of things. My boyfriend, Troy, just came up to me one day and said, ‘I love you, too.’ I never even told him that I loved him, but he already knew, and he just wanted to say it back.”

  “That’s sweet, Ruth. Sounds like a nice guy.”

  “Can we please not talk about this?” Kandace said suddenly.

  Sara spoke up then. “Oh, shut up, Kandace. I want to hear more.”

  “Me, too,” said Ruth.

  “So, Lee, was he any good in bed?” Linda asked with enthusiasm.

  “Linda!” four separate voices cried.

  “What?” Linda laughed.

  Kandace groaned. “Of all topics you have to bring up down here.”

  “So what? We’re not getting anything good down here anyway.” Linda sighed. “Might as well hear about when we did.”

  “I never want to have sex ever again if I get out of here,” Ruth said.

  “Ruth, what you’re going through is not sex,” I replied. “What he is doing to you is rape. When you care about someone with all your heart, sex can be the best thing you have ever felt.”

  “I know. I almost did it once, with Troy, but . . .”

  “You weren’t ready?” I asked.

  Ruth sighed. “No. I thought I was ready, and I do love him, but I just got scared when we tried.” There was a short pause before Ruth let out a loud cry. “I hate that he was my first. I would give anything to have had that moment with Troy, but now I’ll have to live the rest of my life with the memory of that disgusting thing inside me.”

  I let that soak into my brain for a while. I was lucky, and always would be, because I never regretted Richard being my first. There was no hesitation, blinding pain, or fear when Richard and I made love for the first time. It was perfect. And I felt so bad that Ruth had that moment taken from her.

  “We are all going to need some serious therapy if we ever get out of here,” Sara said.

  “No shit,” Anna responded, and we all laughed.

  Suddenly the music stopped, and we fell silent when we heard his footsteps over our heads. I could hear the locks being turned and the sounds of his footsteps coming down the stairs. I covered my ears as the squeaky door opened and shut. I scooted my back to the corner of the room when I heard the jingling of keys echo through the hallway.

  “Eenie, meenie, miney, moe. Who will be the first to go?” My heart stopped when the light for my room turned on. The door swung open, and I stood up, ready to fight. “Time to break in the new girl.”

  The look of sheer delight plastered across his face as he walked toward me almost made me gag.

  Remember, Lee, don’t scream, don’t scream, don’t scream.

  The mantra continued to echo inside my head as he slapped me across the face, and I fell on top of the mattress, crying out in shock at his strength.

  I bit down on my lip so I wouldn’t scream; I’d rather die than give him the satisfaction. I fought back, kicking at him, but he caught my ankle and kicked me in return. The harder I fought, the harder he hit. After a while, he took both my wrists in one of his hands and held them over my head. A whimper almost escaped my lips when he ran his tongue from my neck to my ear.

  “For such a mouthy little thing, you sure seem to suck at expressing yourself at the moment,” he said, moaning and rubbing his groin against my crotch. “But I’m not worried. I’m always up for a good challenge.”

  I turned my head to the side when I felt him start to rub himself back and forth against me with a little more enthusiasm.

  Don’t think about it, Lee. Think of something else.

  I tried to remember shopping trips with Emma, dinner dates with Richard, going hiking with my brother, but as soon as I did I was pulled back into the present by the disgusting noises he was making as he moved over me. I shuddered and he laughed.

  “You like it when I moan, don�
�t you?” he asked, reaching underneath my shirt and gripping my breast hard. “You’re such a little slut.” He pinched my nipple roughly, and I shut my eyes to keep from crying out. Without warning, he moved away from me and ripped his belt off. “You think you’re strong?” he yelled, striking me with the belt buckle. I rolled over to my side and covered my head and face. “You think I’m being hard on you now?” he screamed, striking me again. I couldn’t stop the tears at this point. They came out in buckets with each strike. “You haven’t seen nothing yet, you stupid bitch!” he screamed again, striking me over, and over again.

  Three Days Missing

  —Richard

  The press conference at the university turned out to be pointless. Luke and I sat there for two hours listening to the campus police give a speech about strength in groups and hotline numbers. By the time we’d gotten back to the girls’ apartment, Emma and Adam were passed out on the couch. Too upset to sleep myself, I’d told the guys to go home and sent my sister to get some rest while I stayed up to wait for any news from Lee’s brother. At some point, I must have fallen asleep because I was woken up at six in the morning by a knock at the door.

  I got up, stretching my legs, and rubbed my hands over my face to help wake myself. With an average of just a couple of hours of sleep a night, my body was beginning to feel the effects. I opened the front door to find Noah, looking downright exhausted, on the other side.

  “Any news?” I asked, yawning and running my hands through my hair.

  He wouldn’t look at me, and my heart sank as I saw he had been crying. “What? What is it?”

  “I need you to come with me.”

  I felt a sick twist of dread in my stomach. “Please, just tell me now.”

  “I can’t,” he said, trying to mask his quivering voice. “I just need you to come with me right now. Okay, bro?” He looked up at me, and I could see the pain in his eyes. I nodded, grabbed my jacket, and followed him down the stairs toward his car.

  “Where are we going?” I asked once we got on the road.

  “Gold Hill.”

  “Where the hell is Gold Hill, and what’s there?”

  “An answer, and it’s about thirty minutes away,” Noah replied simply.

  When we pulled up to the small brick police station in a town that seemed a minute long, there was a man standing outside, surrounded by multiple Government-marked cars.

  “It’s good to see you again, Officer Locke,” the man said, shaking Noah’s hand.

  “I appreciate the phone call, Evan. And please, there is no need to be formal,” Noah said, clearing his throat and motioning in my direction. “This is Richard Haines, Lee’s boyfriend. Richard, this is Evan Davis.”

  I extended my hand to Evan and gave his a firm shake. He was older, maybe in his late forties, with a head that reminded me of Mr. Clean. He was at least a foot shorter than me, which made me feel even taller than I usually did at six feet.

  Instead of walking toward the front of the building, Davis took us around back. “I’m sorry for what you two must be going through. I’ll try to make this as fast as possible.” He punched a few numbers onto a keypad and opened a thick metal door. Confused and annoyed, I followed the two men down a flight of stairs and into the basement. I stopped when I read the words Coroner’s Office on the wall.

  “Noah, what the fuck is going on?”

  He stopped and looked at me. “They found a body, but the face was beaten so badly that she’s unrecognizable. The FBI is down here taking evidence, pictures, and following protocol step by step, but you know Lee in ways we don’t. Davis is going to see if they’ll allow you to identify the body. There’s no need to look at her face, just her body.”

  “Can’t they just run fingerprints?”

  Noah grew annoyed and walked right up to me, his nose inches from mine.

  “I wouldn’t ask this of you if that was a possibility, but it’s not. The body doesn’t . . . have any fingers. The bastard cut the victim’s hands off.” He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me against the wall, whispering with urgency, “If that’s our Lee in there, then don’t you want to know?”

  He was right, I did want to know. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and followed Noah toward the door marked Morgue. The hallway was dark and cold, with nothing but a depressing gray color on the walls and fixtures. I couldn’t imagine working in a place like this. And the smell. It reminded me of antibacterial gel, Lysol, and death. Davis pointed to a group of chairs against the wall and asked us to sit and wait.

  “What about DNA?” I asked when he’d disappeared inside. “Can’t they just run yours against whoever is in there to see if they match?”

  “That takes days. I want to know now.”

  Noah wouldn’t look at me, his eyes fixated on the door that Davis had walked through, and I realized then what this moment really was. Today I might be identifying the dead body of the woman that I love.

  Nausea and fear ripped through me as I leaned my head back against the wall and tried to steady the rapid beating of my heart. Could I do this? Was I ready to face my worst fears?

  Before I could answer those questions, Davis came out with a sad expression on his face.

  “I’m sorry, Noah, but they said no one who isn’t part of the investigation can come view the body. They’re worried about compromising the evidence.”

  “That’s bullshit!” Noah stood and kicked his chair down the hall. “I’m not going to wait days to find out if my sister is dead.”

  “Again, I’m sorry—” Davis began to say, but was cut off when a female FBI agent stepped out, holding a camera in her hands.

  “Is there a problem, gentlemen?” she asked.

  “Yeah, there’s a problem. I want to know if that’s my sister in there!”

  The woman was young, I would guess in her early thirties, medium height with long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail.

  “I apologize Mr.—”

  “Locke,” Noah answered. “My name is Noah Locke, and I’m a police officer. A member of the service, just like you.” I watched as he stepped forward and covered his hands over hers, which were still holding her camera. “And I am asking . . . no . . . begging you to just allow my family and me to find out if that is my baby sister in there. Please. If the roles were reversed, and you were standing where I am, I’d do it for you.”

  I got up and stood next to Noah, placing my hand on his shoulder, looking the woman in the eyes as her gaze shifted from Noah’s to my own.

  “Please,” I said, silently praying she would give us this chance.

  The woman looked torn as her eyes moved between Davis, Noah, myself, and her camera.

  “I—I can’t let you in, but I can take her picture and show it to you,” she finally said. “Did your sister have any tattoos, birthmarks, or scars that you know of that would help you identify if this is her or not?”

  Noah turned to me with pleading eyes. “She didn’t have any tattoos or marks that I know of.”

  I shook my head. “No, she didn’t.”

  I turned my back to them and ran my hands over my face, mentally going over by memory every square inch of Lee’s body. Every curve and soft stretch of skin flashed through my mind as I tried to think of something. Finally, I did.

  A year earlier, Lee had been injured when we went hiking. She’d slipped on a rock and sliced the inside of her thigh. It took only five stitches, but had left an L-shaped mark once the stitches came out. I made sure to kiss it every time we made love.

  I turned and looked at the small group behind me. “Yes, on the inside of her right thigh there should be a small scar. I’d know that scar anywhere if I saw it.”

  The woman nodded. “Give me a minute and I’ll be right back.”

  Davis followed her in as Noah and I stood waiting at the door. With each passing second, I felt my breathing become more labored as a level of anxiety began to course through my body. I closed my eyes and clenched my fists, praying to anythin
g that would hear me that this body wasn’t her. That this wasn’t my Lee.

  “Mr. Locke?” I opened my eyes to see the young woman step out, her camera extended in her hands. Noah and I met her halfway as she turned the camera around, showing us the back display screen. “I took a picture of the victim’s right thigh”—she pushed the arrows on the screen, zooming in the photo, showing nothing but a bruised and dirty leg exposed from under a white sheet—“and as you can see there are no scars or marks.”

  “There’s nothing there,” I said. “It’s not her.” I looked up at Noah, seeing a soft smile cross his lips.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Positive.” I nodded. “That is not our Lillian in there.”

  “Oh, thank God,” he said, his shoulders drooping as if the weight of the world had rolled off them.

  After thanking the young woman, and Davis, we made our way back to the car with what I thought was a little more hope. I looked down at my watch and noticed that it was almost noon. It felt like we had been down there all day instead of just a few short hours. As we pulled away from the building, I turned to Lee’s brother.

  “Noah?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

  Noah only nodded, letting me know he heard me, as we made our way toward the highway.

  Chapter 4

  Day Four

  —Lillian

  When I came to, I had no way of telling what time it was, but I did wake up to hear that annoying song playing again. At least that let me know he wasn’t here.

  “Oh, my fucking back,” I said, wincing and rolling over to my stomach.

  “You okay, Lee?” Anna asked, tapping on the wall.

  “Peachy keen, Jelly Bean.” I sighed and sat up. “How long was I out?”

  “All night,” Ruth replied. “For a second there, I thought you were dead.”

  “Please, it’s going to take more than an ass-whipping to kill me.” I was surprised to see a paper bag next to my mattress. Opening it, I found a small juice box and half a sandwich. “Oh, what a prince,” I said, pulling out the sandwich and taking a bite.