Torn (20 page)

She crept back into the house through
a loose board that acted as a makeshift back door, paying attention
not to nick herself on the rusty nail again. As she curled up,
ignoring the sound of her rumbling stomach, she drifted into a deep
sleep and dreamed of being warm, comfortable, and very
full.

A strange noise outside roused Katie
to sit up and concentrate on where it came from. The strange noise
rattled through the silence as she let her eyes adjust to the
darkness of the bedroom. She had managed to steal a blanket off a
clothesline the night before and pulled it up to her chin. She
heard the sound of shoes shuffling on carpet and held her breath,
afraid the noise would give away her location. She tried to
convince herself that it was just some kids trying to vandalize the
place and if she could just make it into the closet they would
never see her. Katie stood on shaky legs, hugged the blanket as if
it were her only security, and climbed into the closet. She
crouched down in the far corner and pulled the door almost closed,
avoiding the sound of the closing latch by leaving it
cracked.

Barely audible footsteps traveled
through the living room and first bedroom. When they entered the
bedroom that Katie was in, her heart began to thud against her
chest so rapidly she feared it would burst. She took in tiny wisps
of air through her nose at the same rate as her heartbeat. It
wasn’t enough air to satisfy her hungry lungs and they started to
burn.

“
You’re sure you saw her
come in here?” A male voice whispered.

Oh God! James!
The sudden intake of air whistled slightly
against Katie’s lips and she desperately hoped it was soft enough
to go unheard.

James’s maniacal laugh filled Katie
with an indescribable terror that coursed through her trembling
body, like flames chasing the source of oxygen. She swallowed back
the sob that threatened her throat and tried to remain still, but
the door was suddenly jerked open, giving Katie a glimpse of the
demons eager to take her back to the hell she thought she had
escaped.

All hope abandoned her as she hugged
her knees tightly to her chest and buried her face. She knew she
wouldn’t die—he was too angry to be compassionate. No, he was going
to make her suffer.

James gritted his teeth as he spoke to
Chase. “Make it quick and don’t mark her up too badly. I’ll wait
outside.” James lit his cigarette, inhaled deeply, and shut the
door behind him.

Any pain that was previously inflicted
didn’t come close in comparison to what she experienced that night.
Without the numbing effects of the drugs, she felt the depth of
pain inflicted on her, wincing as Chase forced himself inside. She
turned her head, so he wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing her
cry, but he grabbed her by the hair and forced her to face him.
Katie slipped into a protective shell, allowing her mind to close
off all truth and feeling. When it was over and she found herself
in the fetal position in the backseat, something took over and
brought with it a life-sucking sensation . . . defeat.

Twenty-One

Katie adjusted to her new life over
the next few months. She became good at what she had become and
found ways to use her gift to get things she wanted. And she would
do whatever she needed to do—use anyone she could—to get out of
this life.

Katie glanced at her
reflection in the mirror.
You’ll never be
more than a drug addict’s kid and whore.
Katie shook her head at the pale, emaciated figure staring
back at her. Her long hair had lost its luster and now resembled
her ragged doll’s hair—dull and brown.
Okay, let’s get this over with.
She
opened the door to the bathroom, walked over to the bed, and
greeted the stranger with a seductive smile.

Businessmen were always quick,
skipping lunch to feed other hungers. Left alone in the hotel room,
Katie filled the tub and tried to soak away the filth and
depression that was creeping in on her, like a slithering snake.
She felt a deep, magnetic pull to sink below the water and never
come back up. Instead, she dried off, slipped back into her dress,
and left the room.

***

Katie braced herself when James shook
a wad of cash in her face. “What’s this?”

The familiar feeling of impending doom
filled her, but she put on her best poker face. “Looks like money
to me. Where’d you get it?”

“
Under the carpet in your
room. You stealing from me?”

Katie knew not to cross James Durand.
His black eyes were the window to his poisonous soul, and just
looking at him made her tremble. How could she explain the money
without provoking his wrath? Her mind played out every scenario and
she settled on the last idea that came to her . . . the
truth.

“
I’ve been charging
clients fifty dollars more than we originally agreed on, so I could
put money aside for medical school.” Katie’s eyes measured James’s
reaction. Obviously, the truth wasn’t the way to go.

Ally leaned against the door frame and
exhaled a cloud of smoke from her Marlboro light. “Not one of them
has complained.” She took another drag and rested a shaky hand on
her hip. Still trying to play the role of big sister, she attempted
to extinguish the mounting wrath of their cruel pimp.

“
I’ve got this.” Katie
narrowed her eyes at the one who had gotten her into this mess.
Ally had tried to mend things, in her own way. Sneaking trinkets
into Katie’s room, leaving her lengthy notes of apology, and
promising to get them out as soon as she saved up enough money. But
Ally hadn’t saved a penny, and when she did it was used for drugs.
Katie was on her own. Any sisterly love that had been shared
between them was lost.

The back of James’s hand flew across
Katie’s cheek, knocking her against the wall. Her eye felt like it
was exploding in its socket as she held onto the wall and cried
out. “What the hell was that?”

James swung her around to
face him and took her chin in his hand. “You don’t have anything,
do you understand? If you need clothes, I buy them. If you need
food, I feed you. Don’t ever hide money from me again.” He let go
of her chin and inhaled deeply. “I’m not going to kill you, since
you are my most requested girl, but I
am
going to make sure you know who’s
in charge here, and that you are never tempted to steal from me
again.”

Ally jerked back as James walked with
purpose toward the door. He kicked it shut, rattling the single
framed poster on the wall. Eager to reinforce his authority over
Katie, he shoved the wad of cash in his back pocket and rushed
across the room to where she stood.

Katie lay in a small pool of her own
blood after the brutal beating. Each sob racked her body with
agonizing pain. She realized as she lay there on the floor, she
would never escape. Medical school would not be in her future. She
was in hell and would remain there until she had the courage to
take her own life.

Twenty-Two

Elizabeth Harrington sat
in the dark paneled library with a cup of Yorkshire tea. She ran
her finger across the top of the fine bone china cup and tried to
think of a way to make her plan work. She was a slim, elegant woman
with a regal bearing that commanded respect.
It will work . . . it must.

Elizabeth’s tea had grown
cold as she let her mind wander.
How could
I not have known that she existed? I was wrong to cut all ties with
Daniel—he was my only son. But what was I to do? Let him continue
to steal from me to support his drug habit? I thought a little
tough love would clean him up, how was I to know he would drug
himself to death? And how could he bring a child into that kind of
life? Bloody hell, what was he thinking! She would’ve been better
off dropped at my doorstep. He could have given her to me—at least
she would’ve had a chance at a decent life. Her entire life has
been a living hell—escaping one pit just to fall into the next. I
have to do something to save her. I’ve never even met her, but I
love her so much already. Oh God, how did we get into this mess? I
gave you everything, son. I wanted you to have a full life and have
every chance at happiness. But somehow, I failed you miserably. I
promise you, I will help your daughter. I’ll get her out of this
mess and give her a chance at a good life. I failed you . . . I
won’t fail little Katie.

Daniel was fourteen when
his late father, Charles, was transferred to the states because of
his job. Daniel was a good boy
—
involved in soccer and a garage
band with five of his best buddies
—
but the move from England was hard
on him. A British kid with a heavy accent, trying to fit in with
Texans. He dropped the soccer team after getting beat up by two of
the boys, and his guitar was used to hang his clothes
on.

Charles wasn’t around
enough to see their son sinking into a pit. Elizabeth saw it, and
tried everything to help him, reassuring him that it would pass and
he would find friends. When he did find that group of friends, she
couldn’t pull him away from them, although she was certain they
were bad news.
Just let him get back on
his feet, and then we’ll find a better group for him to be involved
in,
she thought.

Before the end of his
junior year, Daniel was addicted to heroin. Elizabeth and Charles
tried getting him help. He was admitted to a rehab clinic twice.
They even moved forty minutes away so he could have a fresh start,
but the pull of drugs was a force Daniel
couldn’t
—
or
wouldn’t
—
turn
away from. By the time he was eighteen, Elizabeth was afraid of him
and did nothing to cross him.

The following year was most difficult
for Elizabeth. Charles died suddenly of a heart attack, and Daniel
spiraled out of control. He was dangerous, and she feared for her
life each time she tried to deny him drug money.

With Charles’s death so fresh,
Elizabeth was angry. Daniel hadn’t given a damn about his father’s
death, or her feelings. She locked her son out of the house with a
note on the front door.

There will be no more money or warm
bed for you until you’re clean.

Green Leaf Rehab Center is waiting for
your arrival.

Once you complete the program, this
will be your home again.

I love you, Daniel. Please get the
help you need,

Mother

Daniel had broken into the
house while she was asleep, stuffed as many valuables as he could
carry into a pillowcase, and set the house on fire. Smoke alarms
alerted Elizabeth in time for her to get out unharmed, but the
entire west wing of the house had to be torn down and rebuilt.
Elizabeth didn’t care about the house or the antiques that were
pawned. She’d said
, “Things can be
replaced, houses can be rebuilt. I just can’t believe that the boy
I love with all of my heart and soul, the child that I gave life
to—would try to extinguish mine.”

Elizabeth set her cup on the side
table and dialed Pete Savalli. Though she had been in the states
for the past twenty-two years, she maintained a musical British
accent from her London upbringing. “Pete, love, it’s Liz. I
understand you found Daniel’s daughter?”

“
Yes, I did.” He let out a
breath through gritted teeth. “It’s not good, Liz. She’s on the
streets . . .” Pete found it difficult to give her any more details
of the situation her granddaughter was in.

“
Oh God, how could this
have happened?”

“
Let’s discuss it more in
person. I can be there in a couple of hours.”

***

Elizabeth took a deep breath before
opening the front door. She knew it would be difficult to see Pete.
Had it really been fifteen years? She pinched her cheeks once more
to add a little color, and swung open the door to greet the man
that still held her heart. Age had been kind to him, the touches of
grey enhancing his masculine jaw line and framing his dangerous
dark eyes. They had remained friends and kept in loose contact
through telephone. She knew he had a family, and wouldn’t hint at
destroying it, but it was surreal to have him there, close to
her.

“
It’s so good to see you
again, Liz.” Pete kissed her cheek.

“
Yes—” Elizabeth’s voice
cracked. “Please, come in.”

They sat in the kitchen and discussed
a plan to remove Katie from the streets. “I know it will work,
Pete—it has to.” Elizabeth said, bright-eyed.

Pete stood and refilled both cups of
hot tea. He added a touch of honey to Elizabeth’s cup and handed it
to her. “I think it will, Liz, but don’t get your hopes up. She’s
grown up in a world that you can’t begin to understand. She may not
want your help. I hate to be the one to verbalize this, but you
have to be prepared—she may not want anything to do with
you.”

Pete looked at her
poignantly. He knew her hopes were high, and he was sure she
couldn’t handle another disappointment so soon after learning her
only son died from a drug overdose. He had held her for hours while
she cried over her son’s bad choices, feeling her shoulders shake
beneath his arms—it was a feeling that would haunt him forever. He
once thought he had lost her friendship for good, offering his
opinion on how to deal with Daniel. He had suggested—insisted
actually—that she cut ties with her son.
“They call it tough love. You are financially and emotionally
supporting his addiction. It’s the same as buying the drugs and
giving them to him yourself. You have to step back and make him
grow up.”