Somewhere Between Water and Sky (Shattered Things #2) (11 page)

“
Yes. I
’
m in here. Who is it?
”

We breathe out the air we were holding and I don
’
t know what
’
s pushing me to grab the handle of the door but I
’
m remembering being caught and captured and locked away and there
’
s nothing I can do except turn the handle and push open the door and collapse against an empty room.

An empty room minus a worn mattress thrown in the corner, a single wooden chair, a pile of clothes in the bathroom, and a young boy with a sling around his arm and a look of terror on his face.

“
Please don
’
t hurt me,
”
he whispers.

I can
’
t see anymore. My vision is tunneling toward him and my memories are mixing with reality and I
’
m falling toward the ground
—
I
’
m falling and I can
’
t stop myself until I hit my knees on the cement and stumble backward until my back is pressed up against the wall and my dad
’
s voice echoes in the spaces where I thought I would be able to breathe.

Y
ou
’
re nothing you
’
re nothing no one will ever want you you
’
re such a stupid bitch.
I whimper and put my hands over my ears.

Jessa bursts through the door, her eyes bulging and her hands shaking by her sides.

“
Shit. Shit fucking shit holy fucking shit
…
.
”

Her eyes are wild and she
’
s pointing at the boy and I can
’
t hear anything she
’
s saying even though I see her mouth moving. I blink once-twice-three times trying to get my vision clear.

Too much noise. Too many voices.

Slowly the room comes back into focus and I can hear her talking.

“
Why aren
’
t you answering me?
”

I see Ren at the door, peeking in
—
his eyes wide.

I
’
m still in the corner, both walls closing in around me.

I need to breathe. I need to just breathe.

I somehow find my voice and barely crack open an eye to look at Jessa.

“
He just startled me. I need a moment so I can breathe.
”

I
’
m lying, but that
’
s not really important.

Please don
’
t hurt me,
the kid said. He didn
’
t startle me. That
’
s not what caused me to drop. It was the look on his face. The one of terror and defeat and resignation. I recognized it.

I walked into this room and found myself staring into my own eyes.

.::.

Jessa turns and looks at the boy.

“
What happened to your arm?
”

He licks his lips and I can see his breathing grow erratic.

Fear.

“
He told me he
’
d be back in about an hour.
”

“
Who? Your dad?
”

His eyes flicker between Ren and Jessa and then me.

“
No. Not my dad. The guy who hurt my arm.
”

My breath is beginning to normalize and I wipe my hands on my jeans, pushing up to my feet. I walk over to the boy and kneel beside him.

“
What
’
s your name?
”

“
Oliver?
”

“
How old are you, Oliver?
”

It
’
s just us talking
—
Ren and Jessa might as well not even be in the room. I
’
m struck with the frailty of his voice and wonder how long he
’
s been tied up alone. I search his face for clues but come up with nothing.

I should know by now you can
’
t make sense of madness.

He swallows and looks me in the eye.
“
I
’
m 14.
”

Jessa clears her throat.

“
Don
’
t you think we need to call the cops or something?
”

I can
’
t stop myself. I blanch and jerk as if she just hit me. Oliver notices and tilts his head, studying me. Jessa reaches out toward me with concern.
“
Are you sure you
’
re okay?
”

I nod, holding up my hand to keep her from coming closer.

“
I
’
m okay. I just had a foot cramp.
”
I wiggle my foot for show and out of the corner of my eye, see Oliver
’
s lip twitch.

He knows I
’
m lying.

Ren steps into the room and pulls out his phone.

“
I
’
ll call.
”

I look at him and nod, my throat threatening to close in on itself. Forcing my attention back to Oliver, I attempt a smile.

“
We
’
re gonna get you help, okay?
”

I ignore the look of alarm in his eyes.

“
How
’
d you get here? And what
’
s with the arm?
”

“
I was walking my dog and a guy hit me with his car.
”

“
His car?
”

He nods.
“
And then he got out of his car, and forced me in his backseat, telling me he
’
d take me to the hospital.
”
He
’
s getting used to the audience now, warming up to us listening.

“
When he turned down this road and it was this backwoods shit, I kicked open the door and ran. I almost got away. He ran after me and tackled me, and then started hitting me.
”
He pointed to bruises on his forehead and eyes.

“
And your arm?
”
Jessa
’
s standing next to me now.

“
He twisted it when he was leading me back to the car. Told me that was only the beginning of what he would do to me if I tried to run away again.
”

Something shifts inside and I push away the coils of familiarity growing taut within me.

You run away again and I
’
ll find you, bitch. And that
’
s just the beginning. I
’
ll make your life a living hell for leaving me.

I suck in a breath and close my eyes for half a beat before opening them again.

Focus on Oliver, focus on Oliver.

But I can
’
t. My dad said those words to me. Something skirts the edges of my mind and I lean back on my heels. I can
’
t freak out. Not here.

Something doesn
’
t add up.

I stand up and walk toward the window, looking for Ren outside. I see him right below us, talking on the phone.

Turning around, I find Oliver
’
s gaze on me.

“
You mentioned he was coming back. The guy who did this. Why did he leave you? And where was he going?
”

Oliver shrugs.

“
He just said he needed to go get something he forgot, and then he blindfolded me and threatened me again about leaving.
”

Something he forgot.

Lights flash in the distance and I blink them away, the tendrils of alarm threatening to grip tighter. I count them as they screech to a halt by the Jeep.

Three cop cars.

Two firetrucks.

One ambulance.

And down the street, hiding behind another area of shrubbery, is an unmarked car. The lights blink on and off twice and I stumble back, falling on my wrists. A sharp pain jolts up my arms.

“
Whoa, Stephanie. What
’
s wrong?!
”
Jessa runs up to me and helps me up to my feet. I bring my wrists up to my chest and look at her, my eyes wild.

“
I have
…
I have to go. I have to leave. I can
’
t be here. I can
’
t
…”

I don
’
t even make it to the hallway before stumbling against the wall and falling on my knees for the second time. I
’
m crawling toward the stairs and begging myself to just move forward
—
just reach the stairs so I can reach the ground so I can get outside and run away.

Because the car. The car made me remember.

This is my dad. My dad is here. My dad is here and he hurt this boy and he
’
s trying to let me know he hasn
’
t forgotten.

Chapter Six

I don
’
t even feel my legs as I run down the stairs. Grabbing the knob on the banister on the bottom step, I swerve and almost run into a police officer. He sidesteps me and then reaches for my arm to catch me from falling.

Do not faint. Do not faint. Do not scream.

“
Whoa, there. Where
’
s the fire?
”
His eyes move over my face and he frowns.
“
Are you okay? Wait. Weren
’
t you one of the kids who found the boy?
”

I bristle.

I am not a kid.

I can hear Jessa running down the stairs and calling my name but I can
’
t focus. I can
’
t process anything. I look down. The police officer is still holding on to my elbow.

I wriggle free and startle back a few steps, into Jessa who is running up behind us.

“
Jesus, Steph you just bolted. What gives?
”
She looks up and catches the police officer and offers her brightest smile. I move to wrap my jacket closer around my chest and squirm.

I have no jacket.

Nothing to hide in.

I blink and focus again on Jessa, her hand landing gently on my shoulder.

“
She
’
s just a little shocked, officer. I think she just needs some air.
”

He nods, still eyeing me.
“
I understand. This is something serious you guys stumbled into
—”
His gaze lowers and he props his hands on his belt, fingering his gun.
“
You ladies realize you could have been seriously injured?
”

I look away. I
’
m not interested in this conversation. At this point, safety isn
’
t really my priority. It
’
s almost impossible. The only thing I hear is my father
—

I
’
ll always find you. I
’
ll always find you. I
’
ll always find you.