Exposed (27 page)

In less than ten minutes, the Bear orders the bus off at an exit, talks a majorette’s mom out of her car, puts that mom in charge of the bus and the competition, asks Mr. Macy to help that mom, and gets us back on the road toward home.

She doesn’t ask me any questions or try to argue with me, or even ask me to stop crying. She just drives. Very fast.

I guess that’s why I start talking, because she’s not pushing me, and she’s taking me so seriously, and keeping her promise to be there for me if I ever need her. All the way back to West Estoria, I talk and cry. I tell the Bear everything, and I mean everything, right down to how much I hate myself for all the choices I’ve made, all the way back to Adam-P.

The Bear never wavers in her driving, or gives me any freaky looks, or anything. She keeps driving, and after I
finish, she stays quiet while I use her cell to leave Mom and Dad increasingly more desperate messages.

“Call the police,” she says after I hang up from the last call. “No, vait. Let me.”

She gets the number for the West Estoria PD, and in her heavy accent, getting heavier as she speaks, she lays everything out for them, only lots shorter than my version.

“Yes,” she says, nodding. “Lauren Shealy. No. Ve don’t know vhere the rehearsal is, but it is a community theater production. Please. Yes. Thank you. Hurry.”

She closes the phone. “They are sending officers.”

A flash of relief blazes through me, then I just start crying again.

After a while, the Bear offers me her sleeve to wipe my face. I use my sleeve instead. She turns off the interstate at our exit, points the car toward town, and says, “I’m betting on the theater, or that big church next door to it. Ve go there, yes?”

“Yes.”

“And if this Paul or David shows his face, either the police get him, or ve get him.” She lifts one hand off the wheel and makes a throat-cutting gesture.

“Yes.”

“You know, vhere I am from, people are very poor. People vant out, they vant to come here to the U.S. more than anything.” She pops her hand against the steering wheel. “For years, it has been this vay.”

I’ve heard her say this before, so I nod.

“Now, vith Internet, this type of thing—and vorse—happens to girls, all the time. You can’t imagine.” She glances at me. “Or maybe, maybe you can. If people vant a thing to be true badly enough, it makes them open. Like a veakness. It makes them prey for bastards like this. Vherever there is prey, there are predators.”

“Please don’t say I’m just a victim, that it’s not my fault.”

“I vould never insult you like that. You are too old, too smart. You have some responsibility, and much vork to do—vith your family, vith yourself.” Another glance, this one more gentle. “But Chan Shealy, this is not all your fault. There are things you couldn’t have known.”

I’m about to argue with her when she starts talking again. “Going over the mountaintop blaming yourself, it’s not helpful, to you, to Lauren. It vill only make things more difficult. It vould be … selfish. You don’t vant selfish now.”

By the time we get to the church next door to the theater, my entire body’s completely in a knot. I feel dizzy and sick and scared, and I can’t stop shaking. There are cars everywhere, and two police cars with flashers going. Dad’s SUV is parked sideways in the middle of the road, right in front of them.

My heart jumps at the sight. Then plummets. I’m so glad Dad’s here, and so miserable, too. He must have gotten one of my messages and drove straight here, even faster than the Bear.

No less than one minute after we find a parking spot across the street and start to get out of the car, Mr. Macy and Devin screech to a stop behind Dad’s SUV. She bails out of the passenger seat and runs straight toward me, tears flowing down her pretty, worried face.

I grip the old backpack and watch her come, not quite believing she’s here.

Mr. Macy looks totally worried and stressed. He’s come out of his tie, his suit jacket’s off, and his sleeves are rolled up. He points to us, then at the Bear. “Put them in my car. Keep them there.”

The Bear nods.

Mr. Macy turns and runs toward the church, toward the commotion that’s all of a sudden spilling out the side door, only a few yards away from us.

Devin and I glance at each other once, break away from the Bear, and run after him.

The Bear shouts after us, and I know she’s probably following. That’s okay. That’s fine. We’re a lot faster than her, and I have to see Lauren and my parents. I have to see if Lauren’s okay, if anyone’s tried to bother her—and if so, if it’s Paul.

We pump our arms hard.

Two policemen in uniforms come out of the church. They have a guy in handcuffs, and even without looking too close, I know it is Paul.

Paul.

My Paul.

My insides sort of crack and shift as I run, and I want to keep running and cry and scream and die all at the same time. My heart hurts, and my belly and my whole body.

It can’t be him, but it is him, and he’s here, being led away. He came here to meet Lauren. To meet my eight-year-old sister, for God’s sake.

Paul.

Or whatever his name really is.

Paul with a majorly smashed nose and blood spilling all down his shirt.

Just then, he catches sight of me.

Our eyes meet.

And he smiles, just like he’s smiled at me so many times, through the camera on my computer.

Only this time, instead of
I love you
or
You’re so beautiful
, the smile says,
You won’t tell on me. I know you. I know way too much about you
.

Circuits fry in my brain.

I go all hot-cold and stop running. Devin pulls up sharply beside me and seems to recognize Paul, too. She grabs me by the arm. “Oh, my God, Chan.”

Paul’s still smiling at me as the officers push him forward.

And I’m breaking. I’m broken. I don’t care anymore about him or me or anything at all except my sister. As if Paul has any clue what’s in it, I hold up the old pack and shake it back and forth.

Paul stares at the bag as he stumbles, propelled by the officers, and he seems to get it all of a sudden. What I might have in the bag. What I might be willing to expose in order to help my sister, even if it cooks me in the process.

The officers push Paul forward as Devin makes me lower the pack.

“What’s in there?” she whispers, eyeing it like it might explode.

I answer her by starting to cry again and standing on my tiptoes to see where my family is.

Two more police officers come into view.

These two have hold of my dad, one on either side, obviously working to keep him away from Paul.

That’s where Mr. Macy goes, straight to Dad, hollering about being Dad’s attorney, and I see one of the police officers move aside to let Mr. Macy closer to Dad. Dad’s face looks scary red and furious as he stares at Paul, and I can tell he’s breathing hard.

Mr. Macy starts talking to Dad, and I wonder if he’s telling Dad that killing Paul isn’t worth the jail sentence.

From the look on Dad’s face, somebody better be telling him that, for sure.

The Bear catches up with us and snatches hold of our shoulders before I can call out to Dad. “You don’t need to be here. Come. Come back to the car.”

“I want to see my dad,” I say. “I want to see Lauren and my mom.”

And when they walk Paul past me, I want to kick him right in the balls, just as hard as I can. And then I want to go home, get in my bed, cover up my head, and never, ever get out again.

“And you vill see your family. In a few minutes.” The Bear’s tone turns hard as rocks, and sharp, like when she’s shouting at us in practice. “For now, the car. No arguing!”

Devin and I go back to Mr. Macy’s sedan without arguing.

The Bear sits us down, dries my face with her sleeves, then pushes us into the car and slams the doors as media trucks and cameras start arriving. At her gestures, we duck down in the backseat, and she stands guard while I spill everything—and I mean everything—to Devin.

“This is so not real,” Devin says in a quiet voice as she huddles against the driver’s-side door. “Chan, I can’t believe it’s happening.”

“I’m sorry.” I lean against my door cradling my old backpack and close my eyes. “It’s my fault. I’m the one who kept chatting with him. I’m the one who answered his e-mail messages.”

“I told you to!”

“You did not. You told me not to talk to him, that his name was probably Merwood Spitball.”

“I told you he was a dreamboat hunk—are we really about to fight over this?” She bangs her head against the door. “I’m sorry. All this time, you’ve been talking to him again and I didn’t figure it out.”

“Because I didn’t tell you. Because I’m an ass.”

“If you were really an ass, we’d both be twirling at Regionals right now.”

I wish it could be that easy, but that redemption thing the Bear’s been talking about, that’s a long, long way off.

“Do you think he … you know, got Lauren?”

I squeeze the pack. “He got her, all right. I just don’t know how bad yet. I don’t think it’s terrible—but it’s awful enough, right?”

That makes me start crying again.

Devin doesn’t say anything else. She just ooches across the car seat, wraps her arms around me, and lets me sob all over her warm-up suit.

A few minutes later, more police cars pull up and a group of officers come to the car and escort Devin, the Bear, and me inside the church. They put us in a room, and one officer, a blond-haired lady, tells me she has my mother’s permission to talk to me as long as the Bear’s in the room. The Bear declares she’s not going
anyvhere
.

Which makes me feel better in ways I can’t even explain.

Then the officer talks to me about what’s in the backpack.

I do my best to explain, half wishing I could die rather than admit it, but glad, too, I’ve got some kind of proof that might help my sister.

The officer makes a few notes on a pad, takes the
pack, and tells me they’ll have to talk to me more later, when my parents can be with me.

“Am I going to jail now?” I blurt, still not entirely sure how all this works.

The officer looks surprised. “No. We don’t want you in jail, honey. We’re hoping you can help us put this man behind bars—not you. Can you do that, Chan?”

I glance at Devin and the Bear and take a deep breath. “Oh, yeah, I can do that. Now can you please tell me if my sister’s okay? Did Paul—did that guy—did he—you know?”

“We don’t think your sister has been harmed,” she assures me. “Physically at least. Your dad got here a few minutes before we did, and he and your mother found Lauren in the bathroom. The suspect—er—the man was in there with her. He was trying to take Lauren out the window to his car.”

Oh, God.

“Oh, God,” Devin echoes.

The Bear says something in Rus sian.

“Can I see Lauren?” I wrap my arms around my stomach to hold on to myself, to keep my spinning brain more on Earth. “Please? I need to say—I need to tell her how sorry I am. I need to tell her, well, a lot of things.”

“She’s been taken to the hospital by ambulance,” the officer tells me, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Just to check her out, make sure she’s fine, and get her some
crisis counseling. Your dad’s going with her—he needs a few stitches on those knuckles.”

“Go, Mr. Shealy,” Devin says.

Before I can ask my next question, the officer answers it. “As soon as your mother finishes her statement, she’s coming here, and we’re taking you guys”—her eyes sweep over the Bear and Devin, too—“all of you, in for the crisis intervention.”

Somebody knocks on the door, and my stomach cramps so badly I clamp my teeth shut to keep from crying out.

The Bear goes to the door and opens it.

My mom runs into the room, glances at Devin, glances at the officer, then looks straight at me.

My stomach hurts worse. I hang my head and stare at the floor and wish I could just vanish. “I’m so sorry,” I mumble, then keep saying it until Mom grabs me into a fierce, smothering hug.

She’s crying and shaking, like me.

Confusion tangles my brain, but I hug her back.

She must not know what I’ve done, all that I’ve done. She must not have listened to her messages, what I said when I was freaking out
.

I really don’t even know what I told my parents in those messages, but I’m pretty sure it’s everything. Anything to convince them to get to Lauren, to stay right with her.

When Mom does listen to those messages later,
when she finds out the truth … well, I’ll deal with that later.

For now, I just hug her back and feel really glad Lauren’s alive and safe, that Dad’s okay, and that Mom’s here in this room with me.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “That was way past brave.” Mom kisses the top of my head. “I’m so proud of you. Calling us, laying yourself bare like that for Lauren’s sake. I’ve never been more proud of you in my entire life. You did the right thing.”

I pull back and stare at her, absolutely not believing what she just said. “Mom. I did so many wrong things. I did this. I—”

Mom holds my face and presses her hands into my skin hard. Almost too hard. “Stop it. You made mistakes and we’ll have to deal with that, but you didn’t hurt Lauren. That sociopath did.”

The Bear’s earlier words come back to me, about not going “over the mountaintop” blaming myself and being selfish. I can see what she means, a little bit. If I keep freaking out, I’ll suck up attention from my parents, and Lauren’s the one who needs most of it right now.

That’s the truth, the truth I need to hold on to for now.

So I shut up and keep hugging Mom, and a little bit later, we all go to the hospital just like the officer said we would.

TEEN HELPS BREAK CHILD PORN RING

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