Chapter 5

Chapter

Five

GRACE

T he next few hours raced past as more men appeared in addition to those who’d opened the truck. One by one, the older man freed the passengers, including me. I found myself searching every single face aboard the back of the trailer.

I didn’t recognize anyone from where I’d been. That didn’t mean they hadn’t been there. Honestly, I didn’t even know how long I’d been on the truck or unconscious before and after. Not to mention I had no idea of the name of my captor or any of the others involved.

If waking up in that warehouse had been a nightmare and the next day a descent into one of Dante’s nine circles of hell… I didn’t have the words for this. The men who’d freed us were rough, hard spoken, and full of violence except when they spoke to one of us.

Then they deliberately softened their voices, pitching them lower and kinder—especially for the kids. They also made a concerted effort to not loom over anyone. When more men arrived, they were joined by a doctor.

El medico . He spoke passable Spanish and despite the wariness in everyone, he was allowed to ask some questions. Water was drunk down thirstily and blankets passed around. I waited until the kids had one before I got one.

It wasn’t even until the blanket was around me and cut off the wind that how chilly I was hit me. Food arrived with another group of men. There were hushed conversations. I caught snippets here and there. They needed to get us out of here, but no one wanted to suggest we get back on one of the trucks.

Good. I didn’t want to get back on one.

“ Hola ,” the doctor said in a gentle voice as he approached. “ ?Hablas ingles? ”

I debated it. Did I?

“ Poquito .” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t a full lie, either.

He nodded, then motioned to my leg. “May I look at the wound?” The Spanish was a little rough. He knew enough to get by, but he wasn’t totally comfortable speaking it. That was fine.

“ No duele ,” I said with a shrug. It didn’t hurt. I had bruises everywhere. The largest one on my heart. At the moment, I’d rather no one else touched me if they didn’t have to. I still didn’t know if these guys were on our side or not.

Despite the relief in the air, no one had fully relaxed. How could we? I’d gone from one set of captors to another. Was this just a third set? Irritation scraped through me like sandpaper.

What I needed was to get out of here, regroup, and then find my sister. Maybe I should ask for a phone and call the cops. The problem was, I didn’t even know where we were.

“If it doesn’t hurt,” he said, not taking a step toward me or trying to touch me. “Does anything else? I promise no one here wants to hurt you.”

I’d take it under advisement.

With another shrug, I shook my head. “No.”

The doctor exhaled a long, slow breath before he glanced at one of the men who’d opened the doors in the first place. He had a lovely face. Probably could have been a model. But the rest of him was hard as stone.

“She’s not going to let me examine her. None of these women are going to want to.”

The other man nodded. “I can’t say I blame them, Doc. One look in there just makes me want to kill the people who put them in chains. Do what you can. We’ve got a bus coming to pick them up. Then we need to see where we can place them.”

He frowned.

“It’s not your fault, Milo,” the doctor said. “It’s not on you or Jasper. You guys found them and got them out. We’ll take care of them from here.”

“How the fuck are we going to do that?” The man—Milo—said. “We have so many damn problems right now, Mickey. How are we supposed to take care of these people?”

“Easy,” the doctor said, gripping Milo’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out.” Then the doctor spared me a glance, I cut my gaze away. I could retreat, but I also wanted to know what they were saying. “Look, come on…”

The pair walked away to continue their conversation and I huddled into the blanket. The bottoms of my feet ached. So did my ankle. Frankly, everything hurt. I took another drink from the water.

We spent another agonizing hour on the side of this empty road. It could have been longer or shorter, but either way, it felt like forever. Then, as the man Milo had said earlier, a bus appeared.

It looked like a converted school bus and it had a church name on the side of it. With care, they shuffled all of us toward the bus. The doctor even picked up one of the kids who was asleep and carried him aboard.

I moved with the crowd, but kept my distance. It was hard to trust anything these people said. If there had even been the suggestion of a convenience store or a gas station, I’d have just headed for that.

Instead, we were leaving the middle of nowhere aboard a nondescript church bus. The kindness being shown was hard not to just fall for, because the men were being very kind.

That said, it was equally difficult to trust. I found a seat in the middle of the bus. Like me, the other former prisoners kept their distance. They huddled together in smaller groups. Some chose to sit alone. Our rescuers came through again with more blankets, fresh bottles of water, and what smelled like burgers and fries.

As much as I wanted to turn my nose up. I had a specific diet I was supposed to eat, I didn’t dare. Particularly after my stomach rolled over itself and cramped when the first scent hit me. The burgers were small and plain. The french fries were hot and salty.

Instead of devouring either as I wanted, I took my time. The last thing anyone needed was for me to throw up. Eventually, the bus doors closed and with the doctor and a couple of the other men aboard, we pulled away from the rigs. I studied them as we drove past.

We’d been in the back of some 18-wheeler. The harshness of that reality left me cold. It was too dark to make out the landscape. The accents said we were still in the States. But were we? I had no idea.

The one good thing about the shadowed interior of the bus was I didn’t have to pretend any feelings one way or another. I couldn’t see them and they couldn’t see me. My heart could break a little as I tried to imagine Amorette right now.

Where was she? Maybe they’d grabbed me and not her. That was a hope, right? The man before seemed to be very clear on the fact he wanted me. I spilled some of the water onto my hand and used it to wipe at my face.

While they’d grabbed me near Am’s place, maybe they’d been watching for me to visit. As hollow and fragile as that line of thinking might be, I couldn’t resist keeping my mental fingers crossed. Am might be calling the cops and the FBI right now.

If she got ahold of Eleanor, she’d pick up the torch and they’d both be burning everything down. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. Am had been born a crusader. No way she’d give up on me.

Unless…

That insidious little voice crept out of the corner of my mind. Unless they’d already taken her. Unless she’d disappeared into this gaping maw of despair. The only thing I knew for certain was she wasn’t on this bus. She hadn’t been on that truck.

With how many had been in that warehouse… My stomach dropped. She could be anywhere.

Exhaustion and grief weighed down on me, even as I pressed my forehead against the cool glass of the window. I needed to keep it together. Though I’d thought staying awake would be a battle, I had no trouble keeping my eyes open.

The last time I’d closed them, I’d found myself somewhere else entirely. I couldn’t escape if I didn’t stay on top of all the opportunities. Eventually, we followed a stretch of highway toward a city rising in the darkness. The lights of it shone like a beacon. More, there was a sunrise coming up.

We were near the coast. I could see lights on those huge, super-cranes that were found in ports. So we were definitely near the water. That was something. New York was near water.

Manhattan. Brooklyn. Queens.

The city ahead of me was none of those places. I didn’t catch a sign welcoming us to wherever. We trundled through the slowly rousing city. There were coffee shops, and diners that began to do a brisk business as foot traffic entered and left with their tall cups.

The number of people in suits suggested it was a weekday. Which one? How long since I’d drive from the Outer Banks to Am’s place? Was my car still parked there?

I hadn’t woken up with my purse or phone or anything else. Depending on when my disappearance was reported, the car might have already been towed. I didn’t have a pass for parking on the street there.

So my car could be sitting somewhere, unclaimed and unwanted, another clue in the mystery of my whereabouts. The only question I had though, was who would be looking for Am if I wasn’t there?

The more my thoughts whirled around, the more nauseated I became. All I wanted to do was find a phone, call her, and have her answer. I wanted to hear the profound relief as she heard my voice and knew I was okay too.

Then I would make arrangements to fly to her and we could wrap each other up in a hug. After I told her what happened, she’d be on fire to take down all of these monsters.

But I had to call and she had to answer.

The bus trundled into a pot-hole filled parking lot behind a clinic. The doctor rose as we slowed and he raised his hands. In careful, but still somewhat broken Spanish, he said, “This is my clinic. You will all be safe here. There are bathrooms. There are showers. We will get you clean clothes. Then we will work with you to get you home?—”

A surge in the voices behind me suggested that last part wasn’t welcome, but Doc raised his hands to quiet them.

“If you don’t want to go home or can’t, we will find a place for you. I know you have no reason to trust me, so just be patient, please. We want to help all of you.”

He made good on that word as the doors opened and the passengers filtered off. I was one of the last. I wasn’t too proud to admit that I’d waited to see if there was a trap closing on all of us.

The doctor was right there as I descended the steps. Before I could step all the way down, he held up a hand. I hesitated. Was the trap closing right here?

“ Zapatos ,” he said, holding up a pair of flip-flops. They were the cheap kind but they would definitely protect my already sore, bare feet.

“ Gracias ,” I murmured. He set the shoes down on the last step so I could step into the first one and then the other. He didn’t try to touch me or anything else. Then he backed up so I could descend the last step.

“There’s more food inside, and clothes.” It was a mixture of Spanish and English, but I still appreciated the effort. I followed his instructions and crossed the cracked and broken blacktop to the door to the clinic.

It was a rear door but it was wide open. There were more people inside and not just the other survivors. A woman—clearly a nurse—was speaking rapidly to one of the other women. She was offering to look at any wounds or issues.

Another woman offered me medication, and an exam. She also asked me if I needed a morning after pill. Well, that was something. I didn’t think I would, but I also didn’t turn it down.

She didn’t bat an eyelash, she provided the medication with more fluids. Then she offered an exam, blood work, and any other tests I might need.

Nice, but I’d wait until I got home. I went upstairs to wait for a shower to be free. There was a community center up here. It was nicer than I expected. Where the downstairs had that definite medical feel, this was a little warmer and more open.

Eventually, it was my turn. Another woman was up here and she’d brought clean clothes, including underwear. I could have kissed her. The shower was lukewarm, but I didn’t care.

I scrubbed every inch of myself, twice. There wasn’t much in the way of product for my hair, but I made do with the basic shampoo and conditioner. Afterward, I braided my hair back from my face. Then I was dressed, I sacked up my soiled clothes and carried it out with me.

It wasn’t until I made it to the big room with all the chairs that I realized there were more newcomers here. A pair of men were speaking to a mother and her child, well, one of them was. They hadn’t been with Doc or Milo or any of the others downstairs.

The second of the pair turned and met my gaze. He looked like he’d just woken up, his hair was disheveled and stubble decorated his cheeks. His eyes were an icy kind of blue, but despite their paleness, they weren’t cold at all.

“Hello there,” he said with an open smile. “We’re just telling your friends how this is going to work.”

“Dude,” the other man said. “Ease up.”

“What? I’m being nice.” He took a couple of uneven steps toward me. “I’m Alphabet,” he said, introducing himself.

Alphabet.

His name was Alphabet?

Despite the disbelief his name generated, it was hard to deny his charm. He held out his hand to me.

“Hey,” the other man said, gripping Alphabet’s shoulder. “Remember what Doc said.”

“She’s not the first wounded woman I’ve met,” Alphabet said in a low voice, sending a cutting look at his companion. “It’s better to be normal. Respectful. Also, I’d like to know her name beyond the fact she’s beautiful, you know.”

The man with him, dropped his chin and shook his head. Like Alphabet, his friend was tall and broad-shouldered. He also had blue eyes. But his eyes were a deeper blue, and from there their appearance differed.

The second man had short, neatly clipped brown hair. A beard decorated his chin with a carefully groomed mustache on his lip. Where Alphabet was dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a jean jacket, the other man had on suit pants and a button down. They were a study in contrasts.

“Just leave her to catch her breath,” his friend said, meeting my gaze briefly.

Alphabet huffed. “Fine, you talk to her. But if you get her number first, I want it.”

His friend waited a beat as Alphabet limped over to one of the others.

“Sorry about him,” the man continued in English. “He means well.”

I still hadn’t said anything, nor did I pretend to understand him. Sooner or later something would have to give, but I wasn’t comfortable with even more strangers.

“Hey,” the man continued, narrowing the gap between us but managing to not loom over me. It was a definite talent. “I know you.”

My heart stopped.

“You’ve got an unmistakable face.”

Fear was an icy coat over my too hot skin.

“We’re going to make sure everyone gets home, including you.”

I glanced to where Alphabet sat speaking to a woman. She’d relaxed gradually. When I looked back at his friend, the man also glanced to Alphabet before he looked at me again.

“You don’t want anyone to know. I won’t tell.”

I had no idea how I was supposed to believe him.

“Right, you need us to prove to you that you can trust us.” He nodded. “Take a seat, and hang out. We’re going to take the first round here in a few. You can go with us. See where we take everyone.”

A frown tightened my brow.

Why? Why couldn’t I just leave?

“We don’t know everything about the people who had you,” he continued as if I’d asked the question aloud. Then again, maybe it was an obvious question. “To make sure you’re all safe, we want to get you home and to safe ground before we leave you.”

Still not a reason to trust them.

“You’re right,” he continued almost conversationally in a low voice that said it probably didn’t carry. “You have no reason to trust us. It’s why I want you to see how we handle everyone else. If you decide even after that—well, we’ll take you to an airport. I’ll even buy you a ticket.”

“Why an airport?” I asked the question in English without giving a thought to the slip. The man seemed to understand that I understood him.

“Because airports have security checkpoints. Harder for someone to reacquire you there. We’ll have to get you some ID but we can do that.”

Oh. That made a lot of sense.

“You in?”

I blew out a breath, then glanced to where the woman wept openly on Alphabet’s shoulder and he offered her comfort without touching her. Just like the man talking to me. They weren’t invading anyone’s space.

Maybe they really did know.

“For now,” I conceded. Since he mentioned it, I didn’t want to be reacquired by anyone. I had to get home. I had to get home and see Am.

If she wasn’t there, then I had to be the one who went to find her. None of that could happen if I didn’t make it.

“All I’m asking,” the other man said. “I’m Lunchbox, by the way.”

What kind of names were these?

“I know, it’s weird. But it works for us.” He gestured to the chairs. “Want to take a seat? I can grab you some coffee if you want? We still need to talk to a few more so we can work out how we are going to move everyone out.”

“I’m fine,” I murmured and retreated to a chair away from all of them. Instead of following me or pushing me for more, Lunchbox left me alone as he went to speak to one of the other survivors.

Alphabet and Lunchbox.

Definitely weird.