“Tests?” My eyes bugged. “What tests?”
Dr Annaz patted my shoulder. “I came here to treat a few scratches and bruises, Tasmin, but you need much better care than that.”
“I do?”
She sighed sadly. “You do.”
*
The tests were invasive.
They brought back terrible memories and broke some of the glued pieces of me.
Elder’s doctor, Michaels, had been the one who’d sewn up my tongue and put me back together again. He’d been gentle and patient and understanding.
These new doctors, with a multitude of accents and machinery, asked probing questions about my periods, internal organs, and other terribly private things.
A gynaecologist was enlisted to see if I had permanent damage after I admitted what Alrik used on me. Multiple x-rays were used to determine if I had any broken bones.
Blood was taken.
ECGs were recorded.
Hours went by between answering yet more questions, submitting to whirring machines, and waiting, shivering with nerves on starched sheets, for yet another consultation.
By the time Carlyn Grey approached me with a tired smile and an air of completion, the sky was black with night, and she held out a third cup of coffee.
Between the first and second cup, she’d told me I’d dealt with everything better than she could’ve hoped, and she was in awe of what a human body could withstand. I didn’t think she enjoyed hearing my tales of the tortures I’d endured, but the evidence was plain upon my skin.
“Well, we’re done.” She sat heavily in the chair by my bed with a long sigh.
It’d been a long day...for both of us.
“The results of your blood work will be back tomorrow, and Dr Annaz is getting a second opinion on your internal examination.”
I wanted to ask why they needed a second opinion...what’s wrong?
But she continued, “For now, you’re patched up from your recent injuries, and another officer has interrogated the culprit who hurt you. His girlfriend is pressing charges, but as there are two other witnesses who aren’t, we’ll hold off writing you up for another twenty-four hours until we have confirmed reports and know where to go from here.”
Taking a sip of her coffee, she added, “Seeing as you’re still in my custody and by your own admittance have nowhere to go, you’ll spend the night here. Rest, have some dinner, and I’ll come get you first thing in the morning.” Her eyes met mine. “A guard will be posted outside your door so you don’t run.”
“I won’t run.”
She smiled. “I know. You’re a good girl, Tasmin. We’ll get this mess straightened out.”
No matter how many times I’d been called Tasmin today, it still sounded wrong.
I was Pimlico...for better or for worse.
Carlyn finished her coffee. “Once we get your results back tomorrow, and know where we stand with the case, it might be time to start tracking down a family member, don’t you? Find a way to get you home—if we can just chalk this incident up to a misdemeanour.”
Home.
Free.
Safe.
Even though it was bittersweet.
Even though I wished it was Elder taking me the final way.
Even though there were so many unknowns.
I burst into tears of gratitude.
Chapter Seven
Elder
I COULDN’T FIND her.
Out of all the cities in all the countries in the world, I preferred Monaco the best and not because of the tax haven and rich safety surrounding the French Rivera. I loved it for its air of individualism and respect. No one had to bow to anyone.
Now, the place was on my shit list.
How could Pimlico vanish so spectacularly?
Not one café worker had seen the girl I described.
Not one shopkeeper admitted to seeing her loiter on the streets.
I travelled to train stations and ferry terminals and the airport.
Between Selix and I, we covered most areas I could think of...and nothing.
Darkness had fallen, and I finally had to admit that my body needed sustenance and my mind needed sleep.
This missing her devoured me from the inside out, and if I didn’t start being smart, I’d lose her for good.
My phone buzzed.
Selix: In the business district. A security guard said he saw a girl matching Pim’s description being shoved into a police car.
Christ!
I was an imbecile.
Why hadn’t I thought to check the police stations around town? It should’ve been as obvious as checking the points of exit in this damn country.
Clutching my phone, I prepared to charge back into the night and ransack every precinct I could. Only...
Why do the leg-work when I had a better way?
Chapter Eight
Pimlico
THE NEXT DAY brought the results of my medical tests.
It was not a good day.
Dr Annaz was the one to deliver the news.
At the start, I listened remotely, as if she reeled off bodily complications about another person and not me. She repeated what I already knew: that I had early onset arthritis, a minor hearing problem from being cuffed around the head, and vision that would most likely need glasses thanks to all the tricks he’d played.
That was nothing.
That was livable.
The last thing she told me was not.
By the time she finished, I wrapped arms around my womb and fought the rageful tears threatening to flow.
I thought I was done hearing things that could hurt me.
I was wrong.
So wrong.
Alrik, it seemed, had scarred me so bad internally, he’d ruined any chances of me conceiving. The items he’d used, the incorrect lubrications he’d smeared, had turned me infertile.
I can never get pregnant.
I didn’t need those terrible injections he gave me. I didn’t need to ever worry about contraception again.
I was barren. Useless. Empty.
I’d never even thought about children until the moment I was told I could never have any.
It was as if a dream I’d never dreamt turned out to be a reality I wanted more than anything. Only to be told I had to remain in this nightmare.
It was surreal.
It was unthinkable.
It was as if Alrik had reached from the grave and stolen yet more from me.
I was left alone for a time to process yet another tragedy, and by the time I was escorted back to the police station, I had vowed an oath never to think about it.
To forget how it felt to be told I could never have something I suddenly desperately wanted and get used to the idea without having a panic attack. Who cared if my femininity had been ripped to shreds by a monster I wanted to murder all over again?
I was still alive.
Still here.
Still winning.
Luckily, the interrogation kept my mind on other things.
Just like yesterday, my treatment was unlike any of the police shows I’d seen. There was no good cop, bad cop. No slamming hands on metal tables or being peppered with hardnosed questions. Just the same courteous kindness and respect that I still couldn’t get used to.