Denied (2 page)

But she should have called someone when she’d realized she was safe with Monster.

Her mind jolted at the thought, as though someone had come along and wiped out the lie and replaced it with the truth.

Safe? What part had been safe? The solitary confinement? The partial starvation? The bomb and abduction by the brothers? Yes, she’d known a couple of weeks of peace, and even happiness, but the rest of the time she’d been in danger.

But her neighbor was right. She did need to contact the police and let them know she was safe. The thought of all the questions she would face made her stomach curdle.

What was she planning on telling them? That she’d run away with a bad boyfriend, or would she tell them the truth?

The weight of responsibility pressed down on her shoulders, the memory of those poor girls in the shipment container flooding her mind.

Lily put her head in her hands. “No, no, no …”

She didn’t want to think about them. What awful lives had they ended up living, if they were still alive at all? But she couldn’t pretend they didn’t exist. There were things she could tell the police that might get them found—maybe not those particular girls, because Lily imagined they’d have been sent to their final destinations by now, however horrific they might be—but there would be more. Until those men were stopped, there would always be more girls.

Her mind blurred.

How could she tell the police the truth? Wouldn’t that get Monster in trouble? But if she didn’t, she was as bad as the sex traffickers. She’d be letting Cigarette Hands and his sidekick get away with what they’d done to her, and allowing them to do the same thing to countless more.

Why was she worrying about Monster? He’d been the one to pay those men to take her. She was condemning them, but not him? At what point in her fucked up mind would she stop making excuses for him?

It’s because you love him,
a little voice spoke in her head.
And now you know his past, you can understand and forgive what he did.

Even Monster drugging her and having her shipped back to America made sense in her mind. He’d known she would never have returned willingly, and so he’d done what he’d always done, and made her choices for her. As always, he’d acted in an extreme and thoughtless way, but hadn’t he sent her back because he loved her, too.

Or else he’d sent her back because he’d had enough and was finished with her.

She’d made the birthmark covering one side of his face faint enough for him to live with. She’d given him a reason to leave his father’s property for the first time in his life.

Perhaps he’d simply reached the point where he figured he didn’t need her anymore.

Two

Whatever Monster’s reasons
for sending her away, she needed to focus on what was happening now. She would go down to the police station and tell them the truth, but she couldn’t do so like this. She needed to take a shower, and then tidy up the mess she’d made.

Her throat burned from the bile and she was seriously dehydrated. Before she could do anything else, she needed a drink. Lily pushed herself up from the floor and stumbled over to the sink to pour a tall glass of water. She let the faucet run before filling her glass, figuring the water would have been sitting in the pipes for a while. She gulped the cool liquid down and then refilled the glass, but her stomach churned, the water rising up, and she held her hand to her mouth, suddenly nervous she would lose it again.

But her stomach settled and she was able to think again.

Wanting to get rid of the stench, and knowing she wouldn’t want to touch it once she was showered, she grabbed some cleaning products and towel from beneath the sink and set to work cleaning up the pile of vomit. She twisted her face away as she scooped it into a bag, trying to breathe shallowly through her mouth. Her stomach still wasn’t completely right, her throat still burning from the stomach acid. She didn’t want to be sick again.

When the floor was clean, she dumped the bag in the trash, reminding herself to take it out later, and then headed to the bathroom.

She reached out to switch on the shower, and noted how badly her hand shook. Was the shaking the result of the drugs, or caused by the emotional trauma she’d been through? She thought it was probably a combination of both.

The water hit the bottom of the tub. Lily peeled off her clothes and, on trembling legs, climbed beneath the shower. She didn’t have the energy to stand, so instead sank down, sitting on the porcelain, allowing the shower to drum over her head and shoulders. She couldn’t believe it was over between her and Monster. She knew it was stupid to be upset about the relationship considering everything he’d done, but for some reason she couldn’t get her head around it. Was it the lack of closure? The fact she hadn’t seen this coming? In her mind, it had only been a matter of hours ago that he’d been holding her in bed after they’d made love, and then she’d woken up here.

Something occurred to her. He must have known what he was planning when he’d had sex with her the previous night—if, in fact, only one night had passed. She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious. Had the sex been his way of saying goodbye? She sought her mind for anything different, any level of intensity she might have missed. But their love-making had always been intense. He hadn’t done anything to make her think he was planning anything like this, though he had asked her again to return to the States for her own safety. She’d told him she couldn’t go back to living her old life, especially with him not in it. She’d told him she loved him, and would never leave, whatever happened.

Had those been the words that had secured her fate?

Lily soaped herself down, and washed her hair, and brushed her teeth. The sensation that she was walking around in a dream never left her, but she didn’t know if it was the result of the drugs, or of everything that had happened over the past few weeks. She’d never imagined she would see this place again—she’d figured she’d end up dead before she did—and a part of her had mentally stored this apartment away in the same place she’d stored the old Lily.

Climbing out of the shower, she grabbed a towel and hurriedly dried herself. She selected smart clothes, unconsciously choosing those similar to the ones Monster had provided for her—grey pants and a shirt—and then began to pick up her apartment. If the police wanted to come back with her, perhaps to check her story, or something else she hadn’t thought of, she didn’t want to have to explain the mess. That she’d done this herself embarrassed her now. She wasn’t some teenage boy unable to control their anger. Since when had she been the type of person to smash up their own belongings?

Lily looked around at all the broken glass, broken crockery, and splintered picture frames, and her heart sank.

She couldn’t believe she’d been responsible for such destruction. What the hell had she been thinking? At least she didn’t have to worry about Monster watching her through any hidden cameras now. There was no way any would have survived her anger.

With everything as tidy as she could make it, though the place now looked empty and impersonal with most of the pictures and trinkets broken and in the trash, she grabbed her jacket. She’d lost her purse, together with her keys and phone, when she’d been snatched, but she had a spare front door key in a drawer in the kitchen. Remembering some cash she’d kept in an empty tin in the cupboard, she opened the cabinet door and pulled down all the cans of beans and tomatoes, until she reached the right one. Thankfully, the bills were all still folded inside. At least she’d be able to grab a cab downtown to the station.

Keeping her head down, Lily let herself out of her apartment. She felt horribly self-conscious, not wanting to bump into anyone who might recognize her, though, by the way her neighbor was talking, half the city would know who she was. She’d always been someone to keep a low profile, and the idea of people spotting her and talking about her behind the backs of their hands filled her with a sickening dread. She liked being invisible, and right now she felt like she had a spotlight above her head.

She stepped out of her building, and a wave of vertigo hit her, the ground seeming to shift beneath her feet, so she put out her hands to steady herself. It was mid-morning, and the streets of Los Angeles were busy and loud. Workmen across the street yelled instructions to one another. A pneumatic drill hammered, pummeling her eardrums. The tall buildings on both sides of the street rose fathomlessly into the sky, and just their height caused dizziness to wash over her again. Vehicles drove, bumper to bumper, in both directions, and someone blasted on their horn, making her jump and clutch a hand to her chest. Even the air smelled wrong, filled with chemicals and pollution.

Someone bumped into her as they walked past, though she had no recollection of stepping onto the sidewalk. “Hey, watch it, miss,” the man snapped.

She stood, panting and frozen, trying to resist the urge to turn and bolt back into her apartment and lock the door behind her. Would that be her fate now? She’d been forced out of one prison, only to lock herself up in another of her own making?

An ache of longing for Monster filled her chest. She wished he was with her. If he’d been by her side, she’d be stronger. She didn’t want to go through life on her own, not anymore.

Lily took a deep breath and tried to pull herself together. Her desire to run and hide didn’t leave her, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to live that way. After everything she’d been through, she was stronger than that, better than that. She could do this.

The light of a yellow taxicab shone from down the street. She lifted a hand and managed to flag the cab down.

The vehicle pulled over and she climbed in the back. “Nearest police station, please.”

The driver—a young man—lifted his gaze to the rear view mirror and made contact with hers. His eyes narrowed. “Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?”

She shook her head, allowing her dark hair to fall over her face, and turned to the window. “I’ve just got one of those faces. Just drive, please.”

Thankfully, the young man gave a shrug and let the matter drop. He pulled back out into the traffic, and made no further attempt to talk to her.

For that, at least, Lily was thankful. She still wasn’t completely sure what she was going to tell the police.

The truth,
a voice spoke in her head.
You have to tell them the truth.

She did. She owed it to all the girls who had been taken, and all the girls who still had that terrible fate in their futures. If she did nothing, she was as bad as the traffickers.

And what about Monster?

He didn’t deserve her protection either. Perhaps before, but not now. He should have known better.

She would tell the police everything. Chances were they wouldn’t bother to go all the way to Cuba to try to track down Monster. After all, what could she tell them? All she knew was he was somewhere in Cuba and his name was Monster, but he’d renamed himself Merrick. They’d think she’d hit her head too hard, or was still being affected by the drugs. They didn’t need to know about his business, and she could deny all knowledge of that herself. If she told them he’d had a birthmark, which she’d worked on, and then she’d been drugged and sent back to America, there was no reason for the police to think she’d learned anything about what he did. But she could tell them every detail about the events leading up to meeting Monster. She could tell them she’d believed herself to be kept in a shipping container at a port, and that she didn’t think she’d traveled any more than a few hours from Los Angeles.

The cab pulled over and she looked out at the big square building and sign of the Los Angeles Police Department. Leaning forward, she paid the driver and then climbed from the vehicle. A number of police cars were parked outside the building, and the American flag waved at the top of a pole, joining the tall palms outside.

She took a breath to steady her nerves and then walked to the door and pushed inside the building.

The desk sergeant was filling in paperwork as she approached. She waited until he looked up, and the faintest hint of a smile touched his lips before he frowned slightly. He recognized her face, she was sure, but couldn’t quite place her.

“Can I help you?”

“Umm, yes,” she said, stepping forward. “I’m here about a missing person.”

“You want to report a missing person?”

“Not exactly. I am the missing person.”

His frown deepened. “You are?”

“My name is Lily Drayton.”

As soon as she said her name, his eyes widened in surprise. “I need to call the detective who’s in charge of your case.” He ducked his head lower and leaned forward. “Honestly, ma’am, we all thought you were dead.”

She gave a grim smile. “So everyone keeps telling me.”

The police officer picked up the phone and twisted away from her in his seat. He spoke in low tones, glancing back to her and offering her another close-lipped smile, before hanging up.

“Detective O’Bannon will be right with you.”

“Thanks,” she said.

She took a seat to wait, nervously fiddling with the cuff of her shirt, and trying not to make eye contact with anyone else in the room.

Within a few minutes, an older man, in his sixties, Lily guessed, and probably not far from retirement, strode forward. She noted the detective’s badge on his chest.

“Come through to my office, please.” His tone was stern, and he made no attempt to smile or comment about how she was supposed to be six feet under, like everyone else had. He didn’t even wait for her response, but just turned and walked back down the corridor.

Lily hurried after him. He turned right and headed into an office. He stood back, holding the door open for her as she walked through.

“You don’t seem surprised to see me,” she said as she walked past him.

His already thin lips twisted. “Someone called ahead.”

“Oh?” It was her turn to be surprised.

“A neighbor called your sudden reappearance in.”

Damn it. The guy from down the hall. What the hell had he said?

The detective shut the door behind her and then nodded to the chair on the opposite side of his desk. “Please, take a seat, Miss Drayton. You know a lot of people have been looking for you.”

“I know. I would have contacted you sooner, but I only just got back to my apartment.”

His eyebrows lifted. “And there weren’t phones where you were?”

“No! I was kidnapped!”

“By a bad boyfriend?”

Confusion swept over her, and she shook her head. “A boyfriend? What, no. Why would you—” And then she realized what was going on.

“My neighbor told you that, didn’t he?”

“He said he heard screaming and sounds of violence from your apartment, and went to check it out. Apparently you were in a bit of a state, and refused to let him in. He said the place was all smashed up, and that he thought the boyfriend was still in the apartment.”

She lifted a hand. “Let me stop you there. That’s only what I told him. I didn’t want him knowing my business, so I lied.”

The detective studied her closely. “Your apartment wasn’t smashed up?”

She sighed. “Yes, yes it was, but I did it myself.”

His white eyebrows drew together and down. “You smashed up your place?”

“I was angry after everything I’d been through.”

It was his turn to sigh, and he sat back in his seat and folded his hands over his stomach. “So tell me exactly what you went through.”

She already felt like she was on the losing team. What was it about her that had made him not believe her? Had he seen it too many times—women running off with unsuitable guys and wasting police time? She hated that this might be true, especially if those women were like her and leaving hadn’t exactly been their decision.