fell to the floor, the wind knocked out of her. No way to scream. No one to hear her.
Zach rushed over to help her and Reid pushed him away. “Not a word to Nixon about what happened here or I swear , it will be the end of your wife.”
* * * * *
Allison.
Zach wanted to run down the halls shouting her name. He had to get her out of here. God, what did he do? She couldn’t take the treatment. The cost, the risk , was simply too high.
“Allison.” He turned the corner into her room and found Nixon at her bedside.
No! He was too late. He covered his mouth with his hand.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Zach froze, his heart palpitating.
The Hyde peeked through Nixon’s smile. “It’s working better than we hoped.”
Allison sat up in bed, not slumped but fully upright and looked the best she had since her admission. Her toiletry bag was open in front of her, a mirror propped up on the corner of her tray where only the crust of a sandwich was left.
The first solids she’d eaten in days almost completely consumed.
She pulled a soft bristled brush through her black hair and curled the ends under. “You were right. Dr. Nixon said you thought I should take the treatment.”
And now we’re trapped . The realization was bittersweet.
Nixon unfolded a small wheelchair. “Allison would like some fresh air before the rain sets in. She’s not strong enough to walk on her own, but I’m hopeful she will be soon.” He lowered the railing and swung her stick-like legs over the bedside, bending her knobby knees.
Allison wrapped her arms around Nixon and transferred to the chair. “Well, aren’t you going to say something?”
A tear spilled down Zach’s cheek, one he knew would be misconstrued as pure happiness. He bent down and kissed her with Nixon’s stare at his back.
She could never know the terrifying truth, that she was in more danger well than sick.
“What can I say?” he asked with a forced smile. “You look amazing.”
14 .
Miranda jabbed her elbow as hard as she could into Reid’s Solar Plexus. Women’s self-defense 101.
“Get off of me,” she shouted but Reid kept coming. Like a bear on cat tranquilizer . The risky hit only made him angrier.
“Foster, get out here,” he shouted.
The door lock clicked.
Why was everyone ignoring this?
Reid grabbed a handful of her hair and swept her feet out from under her.
She went forward in slow motion, her hands out in front of her to brace the fall. Why was he doing this? S he wasn’t sure what she’d done so wrong. She was only trying to help the kid out.
The cold, white tile bit into her knees and forced the bones of her arms up into her shoulders.
Reid flipped her over and pinned her on her back. She struggled to get her knee to his groin, but he had expected that and controlled her legs with his weight. I’m not giving up. She yanked her wrist free from his one-handed grip and went for his eye socket. He balled up his fist and drew back and that was the last thing she remembered.
* * * * *
Billy staggered into the four-room cabin his grandparents willed to him and Amy. Home sweet home. The thirty-acre parcel of land was worth more than the house and since Amy went missing, he rarely locked the front door. Hope let him believe he might one day come home and find her waiting for him on the couch. What he got, instead, was Frank Krieger. The deep lines carved into the old man’s weathered face told of a life of suffering and loss; first his wife, then his daughter, Holly, who was one of the earliest girls to go missing.
“Jesus H. Christ, Billy. What happened to you?” Frank stood up and straightened his enormous belt buckle.
“Didn’t see that crucifix there?” Billy pointed at the ivory Jesus affixed to the wall behind him. His grandmother had one in every room. He dangled a cigarette from his split and swollen lip and held out the pack to Frank. The bourbon had long worn off and he took a beer
Zach rushed over to help her and Reid pushed him away. “Not a word to Nixon about what happened here or I swear , it will be the end of your wife.”
* * * * *
Allison.
Zach wanted to run down the halls shouting her name. He had to get her out of here. God, what did he do? She couldn’t take the treatment. The cost, the risk , was simply too high.
“Allison.” He turned the corner into her room and found Nixon at her bedside.
No! He was too late. He covered his mouth with his hand.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Zach froze, his heart palpitating.
The Hyde peeked through Nixon’s smile. “It’s working better than we hoped.”
Allison sat up in bed, not slumped but fully upright and looked the best she had since her admission. Her toiletry bag was open in front of her, a mirror propped up on the corner of her tray where only the crust of a sandwich was left.
The first solids she’d eaten in days almost completely consumed.
She pulled a soft bristled brush through her black hair and curled the ends under. “You were right. Dr. Nixon said you thought I should take the treatment.”
And now we’re trapped . The realization was bittersweet.
Nixon unfolded a small wheelchair. “Allison would like some fresh air before the rain sets in. She’s not strong enough to walk on her own, but I’m hopeful she will be soon.” He lowered the railing and swung her stick-like legs over the bedside, bending her knobby knees.
Allison wrapped her arms around Nixon and transferred to the chair. “Well, aren’t you going to say something?”
A tear spilled down Zach’s cheek, one he knew would be misconstrued as pure happiness. He bent down and kissed her with Nixon’s stare at his back.
She could never know the terrifying truth, that she was in more danger well than sick.
“What can I say?” he asked with a forced smile. “You look amazing.”
14 .
Miranda jabbed her elbow as hard as she could into Reid’s Solar Plexus. Women’s self-defense 101.
“Get off of me,” she shouted but Reid kept coming. Like a bear on cat tranquilizer . The risky hit only made him angrier.
“Foster, get out here,” he shouted.
The door lock clicked.
Why was everyone ignoring this?
Reid grabbed a handful of her hair and swept her feet out from under her.
She went forward in slow motion, her hands out in front of her to brace the fall. Why was he doing this? S he wasn’t sure what she’d done so wrong. She was only trying to help the kid out.
The cold, white tile bit into her knees and forced the bones of her arms up into her shoulders.
Reid flipped her over and pinned her on her back. She struggled to get her knee to his groin, but he had expected that and controlled her legs with his weight. I’m not giving up. She yanked her wrist free from his one-handed grip and went for his eye socket. He balled up his fist and drew back and that was the last thing she remembered.
* * * * *
Billy staggered into the four-room cabin his grandparents willed to him and Amy. Home sweet home. The thirty-acre parcel of land was worth more than the house and since Amy went missing, he rarely locked the front door. Hope let him believe he might one day come home and find her waiting for him on the couch. What he got, instead, was Frank Krieger. The deep lines carved into the old man’s weathered face told of a life of suffering and loss; first his wife, then his daughter, Holly, who was one of the earliest girls to go missing.
“Jesus H. Christ, Billy. What happened to you?” Frank stood up and straightened his enormous belt buckle.
“Didn’t see that crucifix there?” Billy pointed at the ivory Jesus affixed to the wall behind him. His grandmother had one in every room. He dangled a cigarette from his split and swollen lip and held out the pack to Frank. The bourbon had long worn off and he took a beer
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