Games of Fire (64 page)

Detective Marlow turned his gaze downward at the pad in his hand. He tapped his pen on the edge as he paused for a moment before meeting Sophie’s eyes again. “We’re sorry to intrude at such a delicate time, but this is a matter of top priority and timing is key. We’d like to ask you a few questions, if that’s all right?”

Sophie glanced at her parents, glanced at Spencer, then nodded.

“I’ll come back later to check on you,” the doctor said, motioning for the nurse to follow him out of the room. He shut the door behind them.

“
Can you tell us what happened? Please start from the beginning.”

Sophie had to think. When was the beginning? The horrific gift on her doorstep?
When she’d met Joe? When she’d been stabbed?

She started from when she met Joe. She told them about the scared, skittish boy beneath the slide. She told them about the boy she grew up with, the one she thought she could trust. Finally, she told them about
the boy in that basement. She left nothing out. She relived every moment of her three months in captivity. She took great pains never to glance at her parents or Spencer. She ignored their reactions, even as their gasps and growls echoed through the room. She stared at the detectives, fixed her gaze on the pen immortalizing her pain in a tiny notepad.

When she finished, she slumped against the pillow, exhaustion cementing her bone
s, weighing them down. Spencer brushed her hair off her face. He pressed a kiss to her brow.

“We’ve been through the residence in question,” Detective Marlow said, rapping his pen on his pad. “We have evidence to
corroborate your story—”

“Why would you need to
corroborate her story? She’s the victim!” her father demanded.

“This is just procedure, Mr. Valdez. We have to look at
a case from all sides.”

Her father didn’t seem pleased, but kept his mouth shut.

Detective Marlow continued. “Is there anything else you can tell us, Sophie?”

Sophie started to shake her head, but stopped. “Joe
… he’s the one taking those girls in the paper. He was keeping them in that room.”

The detectives exchanged glances.

“We know,” Detective McLeary said.

Sophie shifted higher on her pillow. “Did you find their bodies? Did you find
…” she faltered, her gaze darting up to Spencer. He squeezed her fingers, giving her the go-ahead. “Aimee?”

“We found
… remains,” Detective McLeary said cautiously.

“Remains? What does that mean?” her mother asked.

“He was using chemicals to dispose of the bodies,” Detective Marlow answered.

Chemicals
. A blinding flash of images blazed behind her eyes of a claw-footed tub. Her nostrils burned. Her eyes swam. Her stomach churned.

“Where?”
Sophie croaked, staring hard at her lap.

“Sophie
…?” Concern colored Spencer’s voice.

“Where?” she said louder.

She was gripping tight to Spencer’s hand now, so tight it was a wonder his bones hadn’t shattered. Her skin was clammy. She could feel beads of sweat rolling down her spine.

“We think in a tub in the basement,” Detective Marlow replied, confirming Sophie’s horrors.

“Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!” The heart monitors screamed. It roared in the confined space. Her head swamped with the noise, drowning the low, whining moan that kept pouring from her throat.

“Sophie!” Spencer was there, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look at him.

“I was there! I was there!” she squealed, hooking trembling fingers into her hair as bile pooled in her throat. “I was in that tub! He made me shower in that tub! I was in … I was … he stood and watched as I showered, knowing … he knew! He let me shower … I was in that tub!”

She was pulled into his arms and rocked, but the thought of
having him touching her, touching her when she was tainted by the remains of all those girls had her shoving him back as her skin crawled and her stomach muscles heaved.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!”

“Sophie!”

She shook her head violently. “Don’t touch me!”

Over the chaos, there were other voices. Someone had summoned the doctor. He ran into the room, two nurses at his heels.

“It’s all right, Sophie,” he was saying
as she was forced onto her back and restrained by the nurses. There was a sting in her arm. Then everything washed away into a soft, blissful black.

It was dark when the rocking currents of unconsciousness released its hold on her. The steady beeping of her heart serenaded the silence, barely muffling the bustle outside the closed door. Sophie blinked her eyes and fought to focus.

The room was illuminated solely by the single fluorescent light suspended above the bed. Her friends were gone. Her parents too. But there was a single figure asleep at her bedside, slumped forward with his head resting on his folded arms on the mattress next to her hip.
The light danced through the pale strands falling over his peaceful expression. She felt herself smile. That was all she did, but it seemed to be enough to alert him that she was awake.

He raised his head, rubbing a hand over his face. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

He dropped his hand and studied her. “You okay?”

She dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry.”

His fingers curled around hers, untangling them from each other and bringing them to his lips. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

She still couldn’t meet his eyes. “He made me shower in that tub. He knew what he’d done and he still made me use it.” She bit her lip when it trembled. “All those girls … they died there and he …”

His warm fingers brushed aside a strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear. He said nothing, but she was grateful for that.

“I feel so dirty.”

He rose out of his chair and sat next to her. His arms wound their way around her, pulling her into his chest. She returned the embrace, binding her arms around his ribs and mashing her face into his shoulder. She closed her eyes, breathing him in, injecting him into herself to replace all the scents and memories of the last three months.

“Is he dead?” she whispered, her voice muffled by his shirt.

“I should have hit him harder,” Spencer muttered after several minutes of silence. “But he will never hurt you again. It’s over. You’re safe.”

Sophie leaned he
r head against his shoulder. “I’m tired, Spencer.”

He smoothed her hair. “I know, baby.”

“Lay down with me, please? I need you.”

He wasted no time crawling into the narrow bed with her. His arms closed around her tight,
just short of suffocating her. “Close your eyes,” he murmured into her cheek. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

The reassurance of his promise had her falling into the first real sleep in months.

“Tell me what I missed,” Sophie said to Spencer a few days later while she waited for the doctor to sign her release.

Lying next to her on the cot, Spencer chuckled. “Did
n’t you already hear all this a thousand times?”

She shrugged, smiling. “Tell me again.  I missed so much.
This is the only way I can live it all.”

He sighed with mock exasperation. “The things I do for you! All right.” He coiled a lock of her hair around his finger. “Janice had the baby.”

“A beautiful girl,” Sophie added.

Spencer nodded. “They named her—”

“Sylvia.”

“She was five
pounds.”

“Seven
ounces, and looked like ground beef, which isn’t a nice thing to say about your sister, by the way.”

He lightly tugged on her curl. “Hey, who’s telling this story?”

Sophie giggled. “Sorry.”

“Better be.” He kissed her nose. “Where was I?”

“How Janice asked you to hold the baby …”

“Ah, yes.” He cleared his throat. “So
Dad gives me this mushy pile of wrinkly flesh and …”

Sophie’s heart melted at the adoring smile on his face. “She looked just like you as a baby.”

“Definitely a heartbreaker in the making,” he agreed.

“Now you love her.”

He snorted. “What’s there to love? She’s smelly and snotty and … she’s okay.”

Sophie laughed. “You love her.”

He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “Not the way I love you.”

Despite the warm glow pouring through her, she wrinkled her nose. “I hope not.”

He flicked her nose. “I’m trying to be romantic.”

“You know what’s really romantic?”

His eyebrow lifted. “Chocolates?”

She shoved his shoulder playfully. “Getting out of this hospital! I can’t wait to get back to my room and sleep in my bed and wear
clothes that don’t show my butt.”

He made a soft humming sound of agreement. “Your parents changed a few things since you were last there.
They threw out your mattress and put in new carpets, but everything’s the same otherwise. Also.” He grinned. “I happen to like watching you walk in these gowns.”

Sophie
swatted at him. “Perv.” Her smile faded a notch. “Mom told me. At least they hadn’t really moved like Joe was trying to make me believe.”

Spencer shook his head. “They never stopped looking
, Sophie. None of us did. We knew we would find you.”

“And you did.”

Again, he shook his head. “You’d already done all the hard parts.”

She touched his lips. “You saved me.”
She changed the topic, knowing he would never believe her. “How’s Jamie?”

He shrugged. “The same.
Mom and Dad are looking into getting him some help.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Hey, I told you. It’s not your fault what happened with Aimee. You had no way of knowing what Joe had planned. You didn’t ask him to take her.”

“If I hadn’t said anything—”

“She would have found another reason to be angry.” He touched her face. “Aimee wasn’t very good at not being angry about something.”

“Do you think Jamie will ever forgive me?”

Spencer shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Guilt crushed her chest, even as she told herself again and again that it wasn’t her fault that Joe took Aimee. That she had no control over what happened.
It was a solid brick house resting on her shoulders. She doubted she would ever be able to let it go.

“Hey.” Spencer
kissed her fingertips, pulling her back from her dreary thoughts. “I think this moment deserves a gift.”

Curious, she watched as he dug into his pocket and removed a small, square box. He held it out to her.

She took it, thankful she was no longer strapped to the heart monitor, because her heart was going a mile a minute. “What is it?”

“Are you asking me or the box
? Because I don’t think it’s going to answer.”

She
elbowed him gently. She pulled the top off, her fingers trembling, and peered down at the gorgeous silver ring nestled inside. The soft sunlight spilling through the window glinted off the twin heart-shaped diamonds nestled cozily in the center of two interlocked hearts that wove into a sleek band. Carved into either side of the hearts were their names.

Her heart about stopped. “Spencer
…” Elation, terror, uncertainty all raged through her as she fought with her mind on what to say, how to reject him, did she even want to reject him?

“It’s not what you think,” he said, freeing the ring from its velvet bed. “I’m not asking you
…
that
, not right now anyway. Neither of us is ready for that and I’d do it in a much better place than a hospital room.” He grinned at her shocked look. He kissed her gaping mouth and pulled away. “This is my promise that I will always love you and will always be there no matter what happens.” He turned his hand slightly so she could see the engraving along the inside of the band.

Her breath caught as she read the
single word engraved into the smooth silver.

Blondie.

“Where …?”

“I saw it while we were shopping for your dress. I had it in my pocket that night. I was going to give it to you, but
…”
But they were both nearly killed and she was taken,
was her sinking thoughts. But he finished with, “You wound up seducing me and making me forget all about it.”

Sophie blushed. “Did you tell my parents why you were in my room, in your boxers?”

He winced a little. “I think they kind of figured it out. I didn’t exactly have a lot of time to clean up the mess we made.”

Her flush deepened. “And my dad let you live?”