Lost in Silence (The Lost Series Book 1) (5 page)

I summon the courage to seek out her face, expecting to see panic and worry. There isn’t any. She’s taken aback the same as I.

“I’m sorry,” I stutter. My mouth feels numb, like I can’t form words. She stares back at me with confusion in her eyes. Her nostrils flare as her breathing deepens. The panic no longer threatening to take control of her body but she hasn’t realized it yet. “I didn’t mean to touch you.”

She reaches up quicker this time and pulls the hood back over her head.
Fuck!

“Please, don’t hide yourself from me,” I hardly recognize my voice when I speak. I don’t want her to feel embarrassed or ashamed but I’m worried. I can’t stop the honesty that spills from me. “How long has it been since you’ve had a decent meal?”

She looks down to the floor and shrugs. She’s lying. I know she is. I would bet my last dollar she knew when, what and where it was. I pick up the bag next to me and set it down in front of her.

“If you don’t like it, I can get you something else,” I open the bag and take out a bottle of water, a bag of chips and a small sandwich. Setting it all down in front of her, I wait.

It doesn’t take her but half a second before she picks up the water, twists the cap off and guzzles every last drop. She eyes the sandwich carefully, aware of any movement my body makes. She wants the sandwich but she didn’t trust it was hers. Son of a bitch must have starved her during his sick little games.

“It’s yours. Eat,” I whisper softly. Her eyes lift to my face again and I swallow hard. They’re filled with unshed tears. She licks her lips and reaches for the sandwich, carefully lifting it to her lips, she takes a small bite. She sighs breathily as she chews her food but her eyes never leave my face. I smile at her, trying to reassure her and grateful she was eating.

“You can pick out what we have next, if you’d like,” I lean back against the bed and relax, allowing the silence to envelope us.

After she finishes, her eyes get droopy with exhaustion. It’s late evening and there is plenty of time for rest before we need to be on the road tomorrow, I quietly shift towards her. Her eyes shoot open with panic.

“Do you want to sleep?”

We don’t need to be on the road until tomorrow morning. There’s some time still before we need to be on the road.

“You can have the bed,” I motion to the bed behind me. Her eyes flick to the bed and them to me. I can see the thoughts in her head, she wasn’t going to accept the bed. “I’ll sleep in the chair.”

She doesn’t move from her spot on the floor for some time, contemplating her options. After a few moments she shifts, moving back into the closet, closing the door softly behind her. It wasn’t surprising but I didn’t like it.

“Alice, please don’t sleep in there, come to the bed,” I say softly, hoping she will listen. She doesn’t. “At least take a pillow and the blanket.”

No response.

I sit for what seems like hours before I hear her soft snores coming from her makeshift bedroom. I sigh, stand up and flop onto the bed. I won’t bother her anymore but after this night, I’ll be damned if she sleeps in another closet.

Alice

I woke to silence.

Beautiful silence.

Was I dreaming? Had I really escaped Erik again?

It wasn’t a dream, it couldn’t have been.
Then why am I sleeping in the closet?
My eyes fill with tears. I should’ve listened to my family, my friends, when they told me Erik was a bad guy. I would give anything to go back to that moment and make a different choice.
Why can’t I go back?

I hadn’t thought about them in years, my family and friends. Thinking of them only hurt, so it was rare I let myself go there.

When I went away to Julliard, it was the first time I had been away from home. The friends I made there were the first friends I ever had. To say I lived a sheltered childhood was putting it lightly. It consisted of tutors, lessons and all things violin. My grandfather was a well known violinist. His talent was something the world had only seen on occasion. My father was a good violinist but no matter how much he practiced or studied, he never had the notoriety or talent of his father. My parents spent their time working and training, their music was always first. I rarely saw them outside a concert hall or practice room. My grandfather always made time for me though and went to great lengths to make me feel special in the world.

From the moment I was able to hold a violin, I lived it. I breathed it. I slept with it. I even bled all over it. My father was determined to see me surpass my grandfather and made it a point to give me whatever advantage I needed to make it happen. Since he didn’t possess the talent to be greater he was dead set on making sure his one and only daughter did, which made for a lonely childhood. Despite always be surrounded by people, I was alone. I yearned for a normal childhood filled with sleepovers, play dates, parties, friendships, boyfriends, hell, even school. But I wasn’t allowed and instead spent my days with a violin in hand rehearsing from morning to night.

Juilliard couldn’t have come at a better time but it was my parents’ worst nightmare. One of the most prestigious performing arts schools in the country accepted me as a student, at age fourteen no less, but I wasn’t allowed to attend. Juilliard would take me away from them and that was unacceptable since I was still a child. They made me defer my acceptance until I was eighteen. Guess I wasn’t ready to experience life on my own yet. Maybe they were right.

But Juilliard was my way out, my way to finally break free of my parents and their strict rules. The day I turned eighteen, I latched onto it with both hands and refused to let go. I fought daily with my parents, pushing them to keep their word to me. They tried everything to get me to stay but I wouldn’t hear any of it. I wanted Juilliard.

Now I wish I hadn’t fought them so hard. I wish I had given into to them one last time and taken the position of second chair in their orchestra. If I had, I wouldn’t be cowered in a closet of some seedy motel room with olive green carpet.

A soft knock at the door jolts me out of my thoughts.

“Alice, are you awake?” the voice from last night asks softly from the other side.
Hudson
. “I brought you some breakfast and a fresh change of clothes. You can shower if you want.”

My mind flashes through the last twenty-four hours, reminding me of how I came to be here. I
had
escaped Erik again. Thanks to Hudson and a not so easily fooled detective, they saw through Erik’s webs of lies and arrested him. I was camped out in Hudson’s closet and I was safe, at least for the time being.

Shit
, my mind swirls. Erik was probably going to be released from police custody today once they realize who he is. I need to get on the road soon.

Sitting up and I carefully stretch out the kinks in my back, grimacing from the small twinges of discomfort. I push open the closet door and peer out. Hudson is nowhere to be seen. I frown, wondering when he left the room. I didn’t hear him come or go.
I see a breakfast burrito and a small carton of orange juice sitting on the table waiting for me. My stomach grumbles, reminding me to grab it on my way out. Next to it rests a small pile of clothing, much too small for Hudson. As I approach them I notice they still have the price tags attached.
When did he have time to do this?

Damn it, I slept too hard again.

The door to the bathroom is open, I move towards it, picking up the clothing as I do. Might as well, I could use them after all. I stand under the hot shower, relishing the moment. I hadn’t felt this good in a long time.

Fuck, why couldn’t I have just listened?

*****

Hudson

I open the door to the room quietly hoping to find her out of the closet, her breakfast eaten and the shower going. Two out of three wasn’t bad but I wish she had chosen to eat first.

I walk across the room, reach under the bed and pull out my briefcase and a duffel bag.  Detective Edwards called me this morning, while I was out getting breakfast. He wanted to let me know where things stood with her asshole husband, which all things considered could’ve been worse. But unless Sneak or Edwards’ team finds something more concrete on this asshole, he’d be released by the end of the day. We’d have a good head start out of town but not nearly the one I had hoped for.

The shower shuts off and instead of frightening the poor girl, I announce my presence before she walks out in her towel, or worse, naked. “Alice, letting you know I’m here.”

I shake my head, trying to push the thought of her naked out of my mind. What kind of fucked up monster am I thinking of her like that? Fuck, she didn’t need me salivating at her heels, especially now, the girl can hardly hold herself upright she’s so thin.

I empty my clothing out of the dresser and pack them neatly in the duffel bag. I’m in the process of zipping it up when the bathroom door opens and she peeks out. Praying she’s dressed I freeze, forgetting to breathe as she steps out, fully clothed, thank fuck.

She’s absolutely breathtaking. Despite being severely underweight, the bad bottle hair coloring and dab of fear in her eyes, I can’t stop staring. The clothes I purchased were still too big for her tiny frame and they were the smallest sizes available. If I had my way though, she’d be filling them out soon enough.

I resist the urge to wrap my arms around her, more for my own good than hers. I can’t explain it but being near her makes me question every reason I cut myself off from the world. It scares the shit out of me. I look away quickly and check the drawers again. I know I’ve already cleared them but I need a moment to catch my breath and reign myself in.

She steps softly towards the table, her hair a knotted wet mess hanging down her back. She skirts past me, keeping a wide berth between us and stops at the table. Her eyes are cast down, her hands clasped together nervously, she is waiting for permission to eat.

Son of a bitch!

“You don’t need permission,” I say trying to mask my anger with a nonchalant attitude. She tenses. It didn’t work. “I’m sorry, really I am, but it pisses me off. You don’t need to ask anyone for permission to eat, especially me.”

Her eyes grow wide and turn glassy.

Shit.

“I’m not angry with you,” I flounder trying desperately to redeem myself. “I’m not going to pretend like I know what you’ve been through but from what I can tell, he has you pretty fucked up. Whatever he did to you, whatever he expected of you, that’s not me.”

She finally nods. The shock and awe of my words cover her face, leaving me to feel uncomfortable and raw under her gaze.

I hate whatever it is she’s been through because the woman standing before me is nothing like the girl in the photo. Whatever it was has changed her and she will never be the same again. Her life is different forever because some asshole couldn’t take care of her properly.

I cringe thinking about the woman she may have become if only her life had gone differently. One way or another, I vow to help her find the right path. Even if that meant killing Erik myself.

“You can eat on the road,” I say lifting my duffel and placing it on the floor beside the bed. “Get your things together.”

She walks over to the bathroom and pulls out a small bag filled with her clothes. My heart breaks, everything she owns is in that bag. She crosses the room, grabs the burrito, tucks it away and heads toward the door.

“My truck is parked outside. It’s the black one. You can put your bag in the back,” she stops, her hand on the door, head turned towards me. “I want you to go with me.”

Her eyes widen as  every thought and feeling flit across her face. She’s struggling with the decision to head out on her own or trust me to keep her safe. She understands the danger she faces on her own, always looking over her shoulder. Something tells me this isn’t the first run in with him. She’s not always going to be this lucky and she knows it.

She also knows the fear she has to conquer if she comes with me. She could leave here on her own and I would let her go, but her chance of survival is higher with me. Allowing herself close to another is going to be difficult for her. Hell, it’s going to be difficult for me. I haven’t let anyone in since...
No, don’t think about that right now!

“Detective Edwards, the officer who arrested your husband called while I was out,” her face falls and she tenses for bad news. It
is
bad news but Edwards has been good to his word. He’s kept me informed regarding the situation. They didn’t have enough on Erik to hold him and without her statement they’d have to release him. “He’s going to be released in a few hours.”

Fear. Pure unadulterated fear fills her eyes. Her fingers fidget wildly as she contemplates her options. I patiently wait, ready to support whatever decision she comes to.

Bullshit, I’m going to throw her ass over my shoulder and lock her in the truck if she walks out that door without me!

“I’m headed north, to my home in Oregon. You are welcome to come along. He won’t be able to track you if you travel with someone, plus everyone believes you’ve left already.”

She frowns.

“I told them I heard you leave,” I pause debating if I should tell her about Edwards’ suspicions. I can’t, she’s already too wound up. “I know you’re afraid but I also know you want to trust me. You wouldn’t have knocked on my door, slept in my closet, if you didn’t already believe I am worthy of that trust. Please, let me help you.”

She tilts her head to the side and sighs. Questions and doubt cloud her eyes, her fear temporarily placed on the side table.

“I’m not married, no girlfriend or anyone who’d be upset if you came along. I’m not looking for someone to fill the role either. I live in a fairly small town, my sister lives down the street from me. She’s kind of nosey but she and my brother are all I have. My place is small but there’s a bed for you if you’d like one,” I can’t stop, it’s like word vomit spewing from my mouth. “I want you to be safe. No, I
need
you to be safe and I know if you walk out the door, you’ll never be safe. He will always be one step behind, on your heels. He will never let you rest. He will hunt until there is nothing left to hunt.”

When I stop my breathing is labored and heavy in my chest. She is staring at me, shock written all over her face.

I can’t blame her. I’m a complete stranger, obsessed with her safety. She probably thinks I’m a lunatic now. I’d think the same thing in her position.

I run my hands through my hair and over my face. Crazy didn’t run in my family but I was beginning to question my sanity. I’m not equipped to handle her issues, I can barely handle my own. But I can’t walk away from her. It’s like there is some cosmic power pushing us together, getting stronger by the minute. I wonder if she feels it too.

“I bet you think I am one crazy son of a bitch right now,” I say, an attempt to diffuse the tension in the room. I sit down onto the bed exhausted from the mental diatribe. I cover my face with my hands and sigh frustrated. What was I thinking?

You aren’t supposed to care anymore. You aren’t supposed to let anyone in.

I feel movement on the bed beside me. I look over and she is sitting a foot away. This is the closest she’s ever allowed me to be to her. My heart rate picks up.