“Right. You’re the only one who can help me. Please.”
She stares across the room. I turn to Blake. He points to his watch. We’re running out of time. Milena has retreated into herself, looking like the photo Raven took of her the day she left home.
I squat to her eye level. This woman has caused the girl I love more pain than I can stomach. I see-saw between wanting to scream at her and wanting to worship at her feet. She holds the key to my future.
“Look, I know you and Raven have . . . issues. And I don’t know what you’ve been through or why you did the things you did. But I know your daughter. She doesn’t want this life. If you feel anything for her, if you care for her at all, then please help me.”
Her gaze swings to mine. “There is a place. In the mountains. He takes some of the girls there after . . .” She looks to her lap. “Girls in my profession sometimes get pregnant. He takes them there to have the procedure done and for recovery.”
My stomach lurches. That sick-ass motherfucker! These girls, scared out of their minds, he takes to a non-medical facility so some hack doctor can scrape out their insides. I rub my head to numb the buzz that roars between my ears.
“It’s where she was born.” Her voice is just a hair above a whisper. But the words ring like they came from a bullhorn. “The cabin. He’ll take her there.” Her eyes bore into mine with an intensity that I can’t argue.
“Where is it? Do you have an address? Name of a town?” The questions roll from my head in rapid fire.
She jumps to her feet and heads to the kitchen. Seconds later, she returns with a piece of paper and a pen. Frantically, she starts sketching.
“It’s off the Interstate towards the ski resort. You’ll pass through a small town with a diner on the side of the road. The sign looks like a wagon wheel. After that, maybe fifteen minutes or so, there will be a turn off on the right-hand side. Take that until you hit a fork in the road,” she explains while drawing it out. “Right at the fork and follow that.” She hands me the paper. “It’s the only thing out there. You can’t miss it.”
I bolt through the living room to the front door. Blake meets me there, door open and waiting.
“Wait!”
I stop and turn to Milena, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Bring her home safely, and,” she looks at the floor and my heart breaks as the gesture reminds me of Raven, “tell her I love her.”
“When I bring her back, you tell her yourself.”
*
Raven
The dark is contagious. It spreads from the simple absence of light to something bigger. Something that seeps in through your eyes and multiplies until it takes you over. Starting with your mind, it works its way through until it extinguishes the last spark of hope you have hidden deep in your heart.
Everything is dark. The moonlight spilling through the window is only bright enough to illuminate a square on the dirty floor. The smell of wood rot matches the creeping dread that fights to become my only companion. But I won’t lose hope. Not yet. Sooner or later, their guard will drop. I’ll run and live in the woods like that boy who was raised by wolves. If it means having my life back, Jonah back, I could do that.
I’ve watched the moon square move across the floor. Dark stains pepper its surface. Is that blood? What happens in this room? I race to the window and push up on the lever to open it. It doesn’t budge. Again. Fear floods my body. Air rushes in and out of my lungs in erratic bursts. A sob crawls into my throat. I hold it back. I won’t let him win. I push it down, numbing myself from the inside out. Detach. Separate my mind from my body. That’s the only way to survive.
I lie back on the bed, the only piece of furniture in the room. Calm, deep breathing, eyes closed. I imagine the bed beneath me is Jonah’s. He’s next to me, his arm thrown over my stomach. My heart rate slows. His breath kisses my cheek as he whispers how much he loves me. My muscles relax. He twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. The corner of my mouth lifts.
Footsteps. I’m thrown from my fantasy. My body sits up ramrod straight, eyes wide.
Each step is tentative, like someone sneaking down the hall. They sound close as the wood floor creaks outside my door.
My heart races. Could it be Jonah?
I rush to the door and press my ear to it. The knob to the door jiggles and twists. I walk backwards until my legs hit the bed. Hope and relief surge through me in waves.
Tears build at the joy of seeing Jonah again. My skin itches for his touch. I’m practically bouncing on the balls of my feet. The door inches open, revealing the tall, dark figure of a man.
I squint into the dark. “Jonah?”
“Nope, but you can go ahead and pretend. Won’t bother me at all.”