Page 89 of Uncrowned

My shoulders curled in as a sob tore from me. The tired, innocent girl in me had me laying my head back down against the desk. It was cool against my heated cheek, and I could feel myself slipping away in a fog as I stared mindlessly at the wall. Tears raced over the bridge of my nose. Within seconds, the woman lowered, crouching so that she was eyelevel with me.

“You were taken four months ago. Your parents have not been recovered. You show signs of torture, and you claim to have been raped, which we can conclude from the tests that’s true. You have been through hell. I’m here to help you. I just need you to help me.”

I didn’t lift my head as I continued to take in her sympathetic face and soft tone.

“I’ve answered everything as honestly as I can.”

“Just a few more questions, and I promise to take you to your new home.”

“New home?” My head lifted as I kept my eyes narrowed at her. “I don’t want a new home. I want to go back to my old home. I want to—I want— I can’t—” A loud sob tore from me. “He’ll come back.”

“Yes. We believe he might.”

“I don’t understand what’s happening.”

She reached out, grabbing my hand.

“Neither do we, which is why we’re being so hard on you. You have to understand, we’re a very secret organization. The man we believe might have taken you is not a good man. He’s hurt people. Killed them. If we’re not thorough, more people could die. We don’t want that.”

“But I don’t know who he is.”

“I know. Tell me your story from the beginning. One more time.”

I pulled my hand back, wiping my face as I nodded. Agent Marchase stood, heading back to the other side to take a seat, removing a notepad from her inside jacket pocket.

“It started… half a year ago, I guess? It was phone calls. At the time, my parents were trying to marry me off. They wanted me to hold a title.”

“Naturally,” the agent said, nodding.

“I had an introduction with Lord Shorelam—Edwin. I thought everything had gone great, but my father said he’d decided I wasn’t right for him.” I rubbed my hands down my face. “My parents were not happy with me. My father.” I glanced up, only to lower my eyes as if I were embarrassed. “My father was not a good man. He would beat me when he wasn’t happy. Sometimes it was really bad. During that time, a man started calling me.”

“A man. Let’s pause here for a moment. Did the man ever tell you how he got your number?”

I let my gaze search the desk as I thought back.

“No. He never told me.”

“Okay. What can you tell me about his voice. Did he hold any accents that might have stood out?”

Again, I let my mind wander, hearing Vaughn’s voice slip through. His rich laughter. His deep tone. The slight American accent mixed with his British one.

“I wish he did. He sounded like any man from the area.”

What almost looked to be a frown appeared.

“So, local.” She wrote that down, scribbling in a few more things.

“And what would this man talk to you about?”

My fingers laced, and the agent snapped her gaze to them. I took note, turning my movements more nervous than composed.

“Truthfully, he didn’t talk much. I was ordered to sit in the window when we talked that way he could watch me. Aside from weird things like that, he’d just listen. He wanted to know what I liked. What my plans were. What I was doing. He… knew things.”

“Like what?”

Tighter, I twisted my fingers together.

“He knew my father beat me, and that my mother sometimes did too. They were horrible. I… I think I caused this, Agent Marchase.”