“I knew… I needed…” A giant sob escaped her and Maddox collapsed, her ramrod posture folding under Torrance’s hard stare. The look of terror on her face was heartbreaking. “I wanted to tell somebody, but I…”
He beats her, Jerry thought suddenly. His gut clenched at the thought of Wolfe’s fists punching that beautiful face. He’d seen many battered women in his time, and though Abby Maddox displayed no obvious bruises at the moment, he’d bet his left nut that Wolfe smacked her around. And often. Bastard. Coward.
Torrance put the medal in another plastic bag. His expression would have been unreadable to anyone but his ex-partner. Jerry knew exactly what he was thinking. “Is there somewhere you can stay tonight, Miss Maddox? We’ll need to search your apartment.”
Torrance didn’t mention searching the house in Lake Stevens, which Jerry thought was a good call. No point in upsetting the poor girl further.
Maddox shook her head and started crying again. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”
“We’ll get you a motel room,” Kellogg said. She touched the top of the other woman’s hand lightly. “Just for tonight until we get things sorted out.”
All three left the interview room.
A few seconds later, Torrance poked his head into the control room where Jerry was sitting. “Consider your case reopened.”
CHAPTER 39
“W e need to get out of here,” Ethan said. “But before we go, I want to tell you about my first time.”
Sheila’s fingers traced slow circles around his nipple. Her face looked the way it always did after sex, flushed and lazy. Her naked body was contoured against his, covered in a light, musky sweat. If Ethan closed his eyes, he could almost imagine they were back in room sixteen at the Ivy Motel.
Finally, finally, Sheila was his. The thought filled him with the deepest sense of contentment he’d ever known. Abby’s face drifted into his mind then, but he pushed it away.
“I don’t like thinking of you with other women,” Sheila said.
Her frown told him she was sincere. He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. It smelled like wildflowers from the shampoo he’d bought her. “Do you love me, Sheila?”
“Yes,” she answered without hesitation.
“All of me?” He pulled away slightly and looked into her dark eyes. They were soft and full of promise. “Even the bad parts?”
She intertwined her fingers in his. “Do you love me, even with my bad parts?”
She was right. Nobody was perfect. Maybe that’s why, with Sheila, it felt so easy. Unlike with Abby, where he always felt he had to pretend.
“I need you to hear this,” Ethan said, looking at the television. It was tuned to CNN and muted, but the time was displayed on the lower right-hand corner of the screen. They didn’t have long. They’d be after him soon; he could feel it.
But this was important.
“I want you to know everything about me,” he said. “I want you to be sure about me. Because once we leave here, we can’t come back. And then it’s just you and me.”
“I’m already sure. I can’t wait to start my life with you.”
She settled into the crook of his arm, and he began to speak.
He was sixteen when they met.
She’d been sitting under a tree in front of their high school, bare legs tucked under, long hair glistening like silk in the thin rays of sunshine that filtered through the leaves above.
He had noticed her immediately, partly because she was beautiful, but mainly because she was alone, like him.
She caught him staring and met his furtive gaze with a steady one of her own. His mouth went dry. Before he could lift a hand to wave, the bell rang.
Weaving around the swarm of students trying to get to class on time, he followed her, making sure to stay a few paces behind. Her short, flared skirt topped a pair of coltish legs, and her cropped sweater revealed a hint of tummy. Her beauty set her apart from everyone else at this bum-fuck school. She didn’t belong here.
He wanted to know her.
He made it all the way to her classroom door, trying desperately to think of something funny and clever to say. Before he could put it together, she abruptly turned to face him.
“Are you following me?” Her cat’s eyes flashed, narrow with suspicion.
“No,” Ethan said indignantly, despite being caught off guard. “This is my class.”
“Since when?”
School had only started two days before. “I enrolled late. Is that okay with you?”
She blinked at his tone.
“You’re very suspicious, you know,” he said. “Do you really think you’re that good-looking?”
He moved past her shocked face and into the classroom, taking a seat at the very back of the room. She sat a few rows ahead, and he stared at the back of her hair, imagining what the silky strands would feel like in his fingers. He had no idea what class he was in and didn’t particularly care. It turned out to be American history, a class he’d already taken at another school. It didn’t matter. As soon as the bell rang, he headed straight for the guidance office to officially register.
He saw her every other day for five weeks before she spoke to him again. The class had just received their midterm papers back and her eyes were on him when the teacher reached his desk. He’d received an A on his paper, the grade marked in red at the top corner of his title page.
“Nice work, Ethan,” Mr. Bristol said with a smile. “You’re writing at college level. Keep it up.”
She was waiting for him by the door after class.
“Walk me home,” she said. It wasn’t a request. It was a command.
“Walk me home,” he said, and she smiled.
Ten minutes later they were at his house.
“Are your parents here?” she asked as they entered through the side door. She shrugged out of her light cardigan and looked around the small but well-decorated space.
“George and Helen are my foster parents.” His eyes darted to her face to gauge her reaction. “They both work till seven.”
She smiled a smile he couldn’t interpret. “Wish I had foster parents. I’m staying in a group home.”
He knew that already but nodded politely. “You want something to drink?”
“Not really. Where’s your room?”
Thirty minutes later, books open and cast aside, she was naked from the waist up.
She lay underneath him on his bed, her long hair fanned out over the pillow. She smelled of lilacs and rain forest and he couldn’t stop kissing her. Her lips were a wonder all to themselves, at times soft and yielding, at times hard and demanding. In the background, the radio was tuned to a rock station.
He was propped up on top of her, eyes squeezed shut, humping her with his pants still on. He didn’t ever want to stop kissing her. His palms massaged her bare breasts and he was delirious with joy and desire. When he opened his eyes a moment later, he saw that she was staring at him, a small smile on her face.
“Are you okay?” he whispered, slowing down.
She nodded, but her expression hinted at something different. Placing both her hands on his chest, she pushed him gently off her.
He sat up on the bed, confused. Had he done something wrong? Were they finished? Had she changed her mind?
“Don’t worry,” she said, as if she could read his thoughts. “Just getting into position. I want to get closer to you.”
She pulled her jeans down, then her underwear, motioning for him to do the same. He couldn’t take his eyes off
