Page 101
Story: Finding Fate
"Is that when you quit school?"
"No, that was when I was a senior and Mom got sick." I shrug and push off the stairs. "We do what we have to for family, right? I'm going to log on. Come get me when he or Matt calls, okay?"
Without waiting for an answer, I jog up the stairs. The door clicks closed at my back, and I slide down the dark wood until my ass hits the floor. Shit, what does he think of me now? I know what I did those first few years, what I still do some days. I'm the girl who didn't say anything, who didn't help future victims by speaking up when it was happening to me. Even if by my waiting, I interrupted the entire predator ring, I’m not sure I'll ever not think of those girls who became their victims in between.
A cautious voice calls out from the other side of the door. "Pops? You okay?"
"I'm fine, Nash. It was a long time ago."
"I have a question."
I purse my lips together as they spread in a tight grin. "Now?"
"Yeah. Can I ask it?"
"Sure."
"Is he dead?"
"I don't know, Nash. After he went to prison, I never looked him up again. I think Mac keeps tabs on him, so you should ask him that question."
"Can I tell you something?"
My cheeks ache from my wide smile. "Sure."
"If he's not, he will be soon."
Reaching up and back, I twist the knob and open the door wide enough for him to slip through.
A frown dips the corners of his lips when he finds me on the floor. "Thought you said you were okay. This doesn't look okay."
I grasp his extended hand to help me off the floor. "I am okay. Just lots of thoughts is all. Want to hang out with me while I work?"
"Thought you'd never ask," A few quick steps and he falls on the bed, tucking his arms behind his head. "What are you doing again?"
"The information I have on this guy, Jace, is now five months old, so I need to locate him again, then help Matt and Mac get the evidence they need for an arrest. It might take all night, so you know what that means?"
"No sex?"
"Snacks. Can you get me a glass of milk, please?"
Acting put out, Nash stomps out of the room and down the stairs.
Hell, that guy. My guy.
I press the power button, bringing all the screens to life. Within a few seconds, I'm logged in and scrolling through some old files when all the screens go black.
Odd. I duck below the desk to inspect the power cords but everything looks connected. Brows furrowed, I lean back up and freeze. The far-right screen flicks awake, showing a video I've prayed every night for over a year to forget. The screen beside it flicks on, playing another, and then the next plays another and another.
All Destiny's training.
The chair clatters to the floor. Hands over my mouth, I retreat until the wall presses against my back. Just when I don’t think it can get worse, the volume spikes on all the videos, assaulting my eardrums with a blaring chorus of her pain-laced screams. Sliding down the wall, I press my eyes against my knees and my hands over my ears.
Strong hands grip my wrists, shaking my entire body. No, no, no, I can't hear it again. Not again. My jeans turn damp beneath my eyes. The pressure on my wrists tightens and I’m unable to stop him this time as he presses my hands to the wall behind me.
"What the fuck was that?" Nash screams through deep, labored breaths. "I thought it was you!"
It's only now that I notice there's no more screaming, no more horrid videos playing out my sister’s torture. The wall rattles at my back and my knuckles knock against the wall. "He knows I'm here. How does he know I'm here?" I run through everything I've touched online, trying to discover how he tracked me, but I was careful. He's good but I'm better.
"No, that was when I was a senior and Mom got sick." I shrug and push off the stairs. "We do what we have to for family, right? I'm going to log on. Come get me when he or Matt calls, okay?"
Without waiting for an answer, I jog up the stairs. The door clicks closed at my back, and I slide down the dark wood until my ass hits the floor. Shit, what does he think of me now? I know what I did those first few years, what I still do some days. I'm the girl who didn't say anything, who didn't help future victims by speaking up when it was happening to me. Even if by my waiting, I interrupted the entire predator ring, I’m not sure I'll ever not think of those girls who became their victims in between.
A cautious voice calls out from the other side of the door. "Pops? You okay?"
"I'm fine, Nash. It was a long time ago."
"I have a question."
I purse my lips together as they spread in a tight grin. "Now?"
"Yeah. Can I ask it?"
"Sure."
"Is he dead?"
"I don't know, Nash. After he went to prison, I never looked him up again. I think Mac keeps tabs on him, so you should ask him that question."
"Can I tell you something?"
My cheeks ache from my wide smile. "Sure."
"If he's not, he will be soon."
Reaching up and back, I twist the knob and open the door wide enough for him to slip through.
A frown dips the corners of his lips when he finds me on the floor. "Thought you said you were okay. This doesn't look okay."
I grasp his extended hand to help me off the floor. "I am okay. Just lots of thoughts is all. Want to hang out with me while I work?"
"Thought you'd never ask," A few quick steps and he falls on the bed, tucking his arms behind his head. "What are you doing again?"
"The information I have on this guy, Jace, is now five months old, so I need to locate him again, then help Matt and Mac get the evidence they need for an arrest. It might take all night, so you know what that means?"
"No sex?"
"Snacks. Can you get me a glass of milk, please?"
Acting put out, Nash stomps out of the room and down the stairs.
Hell, that guy. My guy.
I press the power button, bringing all the screens to life. Within a few seconds, I'm logged in and scrolling through some old files when all the screens go black.
Odd. I duck below the desk to inspect the power cords but everything looks connected. Brows furrowed, I lean back up and freeze. The far-right screen flicks awake, showing a video I've prayed every night for over a year to forget. The screen beside it flicks on, playing another, and then the next plays another and another.
All Destiny's training.
The chair clatters to the floor. Hands over my mouth, I retreat until the wall presses against my back. Just when I don’t think it can get worse, the volume spikes on all the videos, assaulting my eardrums with a blaring chorus of her pain-laced screams. Sliding down the wall, I press my eyes against my knees and my hands over my ears.
Strong hands grip my wrists, shaking my entire body. No, no, no, I can't hear it again. Not again. My jeans turn damp beneath my eyes. The pressure on my wrists tightens and I’m unable to stop him this time as he presses my hands to the wall behind me.
"What the fuck was that?" Nash screams through deep, labored breaths. "I thought it was you!"
It's only now that I notice there's no more screaming, no more horrid videos playing out my sister’s torture. The wall rattles at my back and my knuckles knock against the wall. "He knows I'm here. How does he know I'm here?" I run through everything I've touched online, trying to discover how he tracked me, but I was careful. He's good but I'm better.
Table of Contents
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