"You're tired," she says softly, stroking my hair. "You need to rest."
"The bed is made up."
I look up at Rafael's wife and frown, wishing I remembered her name.
"This is Harlow," Minka explains, sensing my confusion. "She lives with Rafael across the hall."
When I say nothing, Minka continues, "Troy won't be back for a few hours. You might as well rest while he's gone."
"I'm not tired," I mumble, even as my eyes sting from fatigue.
Minka doesn't push the matter. She turns on TV Land and sits quietly next to me. Harlow remains in a nearby chair. The silence feels nice as my mind wanders over random memories from my life. My grandparents dying a year apart. Shelley's wedding. The births of my nephew and niece. The first day I hoped to die. The memories feel vague, yet still break my heart. Will I ever be as healthy as I was before Locke?
I don't realize I'm crying until Minka comforts me. She leans me against her chest like a mother soothing her child. I miss seeing my sister anytime I want. I miss my grandmother who was the only mother I remember. I miss my innocence.
Most of all, I miss Troy, but he left me.
"Why isn't he here?" I whisper, crying against her. "Why did he have to go instead of you?"
"Because he's scared and doesn't know how to deal with that fear. Focusing on Locke is easier than dealing with the unknown."
Her words make no sense to me. I asked him to stay, but he wanted to leave. Killing bad people is what Troy knows. Can he ever build a life where death isn't his first priority?
"He loves you," Minka promises.
I want her words to be true. Troy would have stolen my heart even if he wasn't saving me from Locke. If we met under any other circumstances, I'd have followed him like a stupid love struck ninny. He's special, and I knew immediately.
Yet I don't feel special. The darkness tells me I'm only a fucked up victim in need of saving. Otherwise, I'm completely ordinary. I have no value to Troy except as a project. If he destroys the enemy and I'm truly safe, why would he ever stay with me?
45
~~~
Troy
Terrible Truths
Leaving Darla kills me. She's fucking spiraling, but I don't know how to help her. I do know the woman Saskia caught has information about Locke. If we break the bitch, I can finally give Darla some peace. So I leave her at the apartment with Minka and Harlow.
Rafael meets me in the office's parking garage. His steely gaze calms my nerves.
"Saskia is about to begin," Rafael says as we walk into a back room set up for interrogation.
"What's happening with the police? Do they expect to talk to Darla?"
"They're cleaning up the mess and tracking down IDs right now. Tia and Manny are working to keep them off our backs for the time being. I'm sure the cops are pushing for interviews in the morning especially with you and Minka."
"Going legit had its downsides."
"We called them in when shit was going down. They appreciate when we pretend they're useful. So far, the authorities are behaving. I suspect they're hoping we end this crap for them, and they can stop looking stupid to the press."
"Fuck them and the press," I mutter, scratching at my scar. "Can Saskia handle this bitch? If she's the Mistress Agony that Darla mentioned in her original statement, the bitch is closely tied to Locke. She'll know where he is."
Rafael gives me a weird look, and I realize I'm stating the obvious. Sighing, he crosses his arms.
"Saskia is the daughter of one of the scariest women I've ever met. The Maven mutilated people and then set them free as a warning to her enemies. Saskia won't be intimidated by a pervert's employee."
"I guess."
"Maybe you should return to Darla. There's nothing for you to do here until we verify info from Mistress and locate Locke."
I think of Darla pacing around in a circle like a crazed animal. She needs to take a pill and forget about the real world for a while. I should have told her to take a Valium, but I was in such a hurry to leave.
"I want to see this woman suffer first."
Rafael and I watch through a two-way mirror as Saskia enters the room where Mistress remains strapped to a metal chair. The bitch is probably in her 40's. Her thick, dark hair hangs loosely around her drawn face. I notice her brown eyes sharpen when Saskia approaches.
"I will be the one extracting information from you," Saskia says softly.
"Fuck off. I'll tell you nothing."
Running her fingers lovingly over a table full of torture tools, Saskia glances back at Mistress.
"They call me Little Maven. Don't worry if you haven't heard of me. You and your master live outside the confines of my world, but allow me to explain what will happen."
Saskia turns to Mistress and stares emotionlessly. "You will tell me what I want to know. Everyone talks eventually. If the roles were reversed, I would talk too. People can't help talking when the pain becomes unbearable."