Page 77 of Boneyard HEA

Now, I’m supposed to be his clean-up man. It’s not about Aaron at all. It’s about him getting tired of being manipulated. And he might think it will make him look good. To who though? A judge? Me? No. It’s all about him wanting out from under this by killing off the men who know what he did and destroying the evidence.

He drops a pen and a loose sheet of paper before me on the table.

“Thanks. I want you to tell me where they picked you up from and how long you travelled for, approximately. In what direction you went, if possible. Sounds, smells, anything that might tell me where they took you. Including when you arrived.”

“Sure. Let me think.” He goes back to the sofa and sits, stares at the floor.

I pick up the pen.

“The first time I went⁠—”

The first time? My fingers attempt to crush the pen.

If this takes days, and I know it will, I’m going to have ulcers if I don’t focus on the work instead of what will be happening to them.

“Also, before I forget.” He raises his head. “I can help you find their location, but I do not want to be there when you raid the place.”

“Understood. We will go in the day after you exit the place.”

“Good. Now, the drive seemed to take…”

I’m taking notes as he speaks, though inside I’m seething. He doesn’t want to be there when the shooting happens. What a pity I like surprises.

I can be good at lying too.

27

Juniper

It’s been three days now, I think. No. Four? Yesterday, they did something different. They brought the other woman in to share our room, then they vanished for hours. They locked us in after feeding us what I think was breakfast, because it was muesli bars and an apple, then let us relieve ourselves. Their return was noisy, and I’m sure I heard a new male voice. They fed us a late dinner and escorted us to the bathroom, but we’ve had no one visit this morning.

If it is morning. There are no windows, and they keep the lights dimmed until they come in.

I look beyond my hands where I’ve clasped them on my knees.

She’s young, maybe in her twenties, and so bruised and hurt. They’ve given her flimsy underwear, bra and panties, and they’ve clearly let her shower. I’ve been hoping they’d find me so disgusting they’ll leave me alone, but they have a habit of trying to mess with my head by hosing me down like a dog. I could tell them that won’t work but I doubt they’ll listen.

Besides, if they leave me alone, it will be her turn.

Yesterday, she took one look around, curled up, pulled her thin blanket over her body, and closed her eyes. She hasn’t spoken yet, not even when Aaron and I talked to her or tried to coax her to join in.

I should try again. Later, when she’s ready.

When I’m ready.

My hands are shaking, and I grab one of them with the other to keep it still. I won’t think about the horrors they’ve done to me. I told myself not to.

Yeahhh, it ain’t so easy.

My fingernails are worn down and ragged. My wrists are red. I’ve marks all over my body and almost the only ones I truly wanted are the knife marks Aaron made. And a few others he made with teeth and flogger. I feel my mouth smiling and it’s like it isn’t even my mouth.

Aaron tries to keep me stable, tries to make jokes and be cheerful… That he cares so much after how our deal began is about the only good thing about this. He thinks he’s close to loving me. I smile again, and it’s one that I feel this time.

He’s snoring a few feet away. He didn’t sleep well last night. Probably due to having to talk me out of sobbing and shaking. I was a mess. I’ve always seen myself as strong but this… Fuck.

At least they’ve chained us closer to each other these past two days. Maybe so they can listen to our misery when we talk?

They will have missed the whispered conversations.