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“First, you have to promise me that you will do anything and everything to make this right. I always want you to be safe, but safe’s out the window for now. That said, we are going to get some protection.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have a friend I am going to go stay with. This house will be unsafe for a little while… maybe forever. These types of people have long memories, and there’s no guarantee that they’ll leave us alone even once you pay them off. Not if they think they can get more money or favors out of us in the future.”
A swell of terror rises at the thought. That hadn’t even occurred to me.
“Don’t panic. You got yourself into this situation, and I know you are capable of getting out of it. You’ve been through worse.” And she’s right. Rachelle knows all about the life I escaped.
“So, the house not being safe means you can’t stay here either.”
“I… don’t really know anywhere I can go. Can I come with you?”
“I’m sorry, Hellena. You have to stay in Sanctum Harbor. You can’t run away from this.”
“Um… Okay. Most of my friends were on campus, so I can’t stay with them or even go see them. Maybe a motel, or…”
Rachelle huffs a humorless laugh and shakes her head. “No motels. No money. You need protection.”
“I’m not getting a gun.” I hate guns. Not that I haven’t shot one. Marco made sure I knew how. Davi always carried one, too. Another sickening and haunting image threatens to surface, and I shake the thought away, tossing my head slightly.
“I wouldn’t ask you to do that. And it’s not what I meant. When you came to stay with me…I had to make a few adjustments. Understanding that your life might follow you here someday, I also had to make some plans. I know someone you can go stay with. Probably.”
“Probably?”
“He’s a friend of Damon’s, your daddy. Frankly, I think it’s overdue, the two of you meeting. He’s the only connection besides me you may have left of him, since he…”
She rarely brings it up, my father’s absence, his whereabouts, the likelihood that he’s dead. The case is technically still open and several years cold. And it’s one of those subjects I never know how to bring up, even though I have a million questions.
But I know she doesn’t have the answers. Rachelle told me about him. More of who he was, less of what he did and where he’s been. It more than likely has to do with the years after he and my mom split, his military service, enemies he made. A lot of it is pretty vague, mostly because she doesn’t know most of where he was or what he was doing, working all over the world.
And after that…
He was evasive and solitary. He lived outside of town. One day, he just vanished.
Rachelle slides a slip of paper across the table toward me, bringing me back to the situation at hand.
“His name is Gavin Rorshak. He served with your father, and they worked together after that for many years. It puts you a little way outside of town, but that might be for the best, considering.”
“Okay. I guess staying out of town is wise. And… what, he’s supposed to protect me from those guys? What makes you think they won’t just hurt him too?”
“Honestly? Because he’s the scariest sonofabitch I’ve ever met.”
Driving out along the coastal road has me white-knuckled, gripping the steering wheel as I take another hairpin turn up the cliffside. It’s not just the narrow road that has me shaking. My nerves are shot to shit, and I’m going to meet a terrifying stranger to put my life in his hands.
Worse, he lives in the creepiest and most notoriously spooky place around Sanctum Harbor. The Black Forest.
The name is just stupid, and so on the nose, but every horrifying local legend centers around the area. Kids go missing periodically, and there really are wild animals out there. As ridiculous as it sounds, I really feel like prey walking right into the jaws of a predator.
It’s the helplessness, the desperation. I know, it’s probably all in my head.
Rachelle wouldn’t send me to someone who would harm me, but the stakes have me all out of sorts and imagining the worst. My entire life just fell apart. So, naturally, I assume it can only get worse.
Last resorts usually mean you’ve hit bottom, but I’ve learned there’s always another floor you can fall through.
And this is my last resort.
I tried to think of an alternative, friends, favors I could call in. None of the people I know have any more of a clue how to deal with this kind of situation than I do. Most of them are even more naive than I am, or they’re spoiled, rich kids who haven’t dealt with anything harder than deciding which BMW to choose.
