Page 7

CHAPTER 6

CRESSIDA

" R un through it again."

Bishop had paid for a motel room and now we sat at the table in that room. This was after she used a gadget as she walked the room. Checking for recording devices and cameras, she'd said. Then she'd taken her satchel and set up an impressive computer system complete with a second monitor.

I was too numb and shaken up to be impressed, but I could still appreciate that she seemed to know what she was doing.

Her competence gave me hope and I both loved and hated it. I needed to believe that the boys were going to be okay. I also knew that hope was not meant for foster kids.

I wasn't a foster kid anymore. I was a grown-ass adult who made my own decisions and I controlled my fate. That was what I kept screaming at myself. It was the only thing helping me get through this.

"We were heading to the event at the museum. We were in line. There were paparazzi and fans lined up. I didn't get a good look–I was putting in earbuds, but I saw the flashes of lights and heard the screams. We were right there."

"Then you left the line?"

"I..." I thought back. I wished I'd been paying more attention, but I was nervous. I'd never gotten out of a car at an event like that. "One second we were going slow in a line of cars, and the next, we were speeding down a road with no lights. The air smelled funny. Sweet, maybe? The back of the car had also gotten colder."

The scratch of the pen on paper was soothing. "The air had a gas that was designed to knock you out. It's pretty common among the more sophisticated abductions."

"This is the kind of thing you deal with?" I couldn't help the question. This was a new world for me and I wanted to understand it as best I could. If I could understand what was happening, I could truly believe we could get my boys back.

One side of Bishop's mouth kicked up as she tapped her pen on the table. "Not really. I mostly work with runaways and abused women and children. Kids like you were, who are in foster care. But this kind of thing has come up before. It helps to know what's on the market and how to work against it and those who use it. I also had a great mentor."

"A mentor in what?" No, this was my last question. I needed her to focus. Every second was precious. Placing my hand on my heart, I focused on the fast rhythm.

"The network. It's an...association, of sorts. Now, what else happened?" She was all business again as she pressed the tip of her pen back to the paper, ready to write down what I said.

"That’s it. I lost consciousness as Lake and Atlas tried to open the doors." My heart beat faster with each word that left my mouth. "Then I woke up in a parking lot. I had my phone stuffed between my boobs–whoever dumped me didn't find it, or didn't even know to search me." It was a lot of speculation, but I couldn't do anything but speculate. It was like trying to stay away from sugar but sticking your finger in the jar every time you passed it.

"Got it." She looked over her notes, then tapped a few keys on her computer. She'd charged my phone and checked the maps. She already knew where I was picked up.

"Is this the parking lot you were in?" She swiveled her laptop around so I could see Google Maps.

The lot looked different from a top perspective, but it seemed like the same shape and the surrounding area was the same. "Yes!" I jumped. "That's it!"

"Okay, here's the museum; here's where you were dumped. You can see the path they took.” Her finger traced a blue line on the screen right past the parking lot. "This means they were heading out of town, not a shocker. What it also means is the only place they could go is to a secluded mountain town."

"There's no passthrough? No major highways from this road?" I leaned my stomach against the table to see the screen better.

Bishop stuck her bottom lip out as she shrugged. "Technically, yes. They could pass through this town. However, the roads are curvy and out of the way. If they were trying to escape, they'd have taken a different highway."

My vision started to itch. Whoever took the guys had them in a small town. What were the chances they were stuck in a house in the woods? That was fucked up, but people could be devious and evil. I knew that.

"Who could have taken them?" she asked like I had a clue.

"I don't know." Even to me, that answer was shit, no matter how quietly I'd spoken.

She raised one brow and sat back in her seat. "Try again."

"Why wouldn't we call the cops?" I knew what Adrian had said. But I wanted to hear it from her too. I needed to know I was doing the right thing here.

She blew out a breath. "You're new to this world?"

"Kind of."

Bishop quirked a brow. "Mm-hm. I know what Books told me and he kept tabs on you. You weren't with the models until recently. So you're new to this world."

Shit, I hadn't known Books had done that. How had he done that?

"So I'll tell you how it is. With the police, they have to follow procedures and there's a ton of red tape. If and when they find the guys, assuming they capture whoever took them, even if they catch him red-handed, he's entitled to a fair trial. Now, who your guys are, chances are he'd be guilty. But that's not one hundred percent true. There could be any number of things that happen. A break in custody of evidence; a witness dies and can't testify; someone lies as an alibi for someone else. That’s not including insanity defenses–"

I waved my hand. I didn't understand half of that and I didn't need a full lesson, I just–I needed them.

"The point is, when we find them–and we will–we can storm any house we deem necessary and if we capture the bad guy...it's up to you or the guys what happens to him. "

Goosebumps broke out down my arms. Justice served. The guys needed that. And I was beginning to think I needed that too.

"What happens now?"

"Now," she tapped a few buttons on the keyboard with the same flourish as an expert piano player. "We wait."

"What do you mean, we wait?" I popped up out of my chair. "We have to find them now!"

"Cressida," Bishop spoke calmly. "Sit down."

There was so much authority in her voice, I obeyed.

"I called in a favor from someone to run a scan of titles on houses and properties within a twenty-mile radius of this town. They have to finish before I can review the results. The best thing you can do is remain calm while we wait."

I couldn't remain calm. Filling her in on the details had kept me busy, but now that that was done with, all I kept thinking about was how this was going to mess with their heads. They should have gotten counseling years ago. Maybe they had? I didn't know because I'd never asked.

Red and black circles swam in my vision.

What if they were getting beaten? Abused? What if they were already dead?

My face felt stretched and my lungs were shrinking.

"Head between your legs." Bishop pushed my head down, holding me there. "Breathe. You're having a panic attack and you're going to pass out if you keep going the way you're going. Deep breath in." She drew one in herself, and I copied her. "Let it out slowly." She made an audible sound as she exhaled.

I didn't do that, but I did release my breath slowly. Bishop moved her hand from the back of my head and rubbed circles on my back. We did the breathing exercise a few more times before she removed her hand and I could sit back up.

"Tell me about the time you met Books." She took her seat, leaning back and threading her fingers over her stomach. It was such a relaxed position, not intimidating at all. It reminded me of how teenagers sat in school. The ones without any cares in the world.

"You're distracting me."

"Yup." She grinned. "Now tell me about Books."

"You said he told you." Frustration leaked into my tone.

"And..." she drawled. "Now, I want you to tell me. There are three sides to every story. His, hers, and the truth."

"Okay." I needed the distraction. "It was when I was in foster care with a husband and wife. Ed and Megan..." I told her the whole story. About how I was treated there. What I went through, and why Megan needed me to go to Books in the first place."

It was a long story, and as fucked up as the timing was, it felt good to get it out in the open. To tell someone who didn't know me, or anyone I grew up with, what happened to me. It wasn't until I looked up from my hands on the table that I froze.

Bishop's face was as dark as a thundercloud. "That's how you met Books?"

"I thought he told you?" Had I imagined that? My head felt too big and my eyes were hot from being drugged and hardly any sleep.

Who was I kidding? It was the stress messing with me.

"He did, but not your backstory." She reached for her phone and hit dial. It rang three times before Books picked up.

"Hey, did you find them?" A note of urgency filtered through the speaker.

"Not yet. What I want to know is why the hell you let Cressida go back to those assholes after she came to you." A vein in her temple throbbed.

"Hey," Books said in defense. "I gave her the option and she turned it down."

"You don't let a child who is in danger of getting raped go back to that house! Not even if it's their choice! You remove them, and exterminate the problem!"

"What? She didn't tell me that!" he blustered.

"She told you enough and the entire reason she was there should have been a big fucking neon sign!"

"That’s enough!" I slapped my hand on the table. "Books helped me when no one else did. It's only because of him that I was even able to stay on my feet as an adult." I would not have her criticizing the one person who helped me.

"You mean the Books who helped you by telling you to stay away from the only guys trying to protect you? That Books? You're such a hypocrite, Books." Bishop sneered at the phone.

"What are you talking about?"

"You told Cress to remove herself from any situations or people in the crime world? I'm part of that world! There's more good in it than bad. Well, there's a lot of bad, but there's a whole network of people who break the law for good reasons."

"You're the exception," he said grimly.

"So are you!" she fired back.

"Why are we even talking about this?" Books sounded confused.

“I’m frustrated and I needed someone to take it out on who isn't in a crisis. That's you. You fucked up."

"I did not fuck up! I gave her solid life advice! I wanted her to get as far away from her foster parents and anyone who even stunk of crime. I said nothing about those boys she saved!" A door slammed on the other end of the phone.

"Well, you fucked up because those boys she saved are wrapped up in some morally gray stuff and she ran from them once already because of it. If she'd stayed, maybe they wouldn't be in the position they're in now."

Books cursed. "You're running off of a lot of guesswork."

I missed the rest of his words. I was still focused on what Bishop had just said. Could that have been true? If I'd stayed with them, would I have influenced them for the better?

Rubbing my forehead, I bounced my leg. I couldn't think like that. The past was the past and I was thankful for my time away. This would have always happened because it wasn't even the Pescis who took them. This was unrelated to me and my mistakes.

Suddenly, I realized there was no more talking. Bishop stared at me as she bit her lip.

"Bishop, you still there?"

"Sorry. I let my temper get the best of me. You did your best–you still fucked up, but you did your best. I'll call you later after we get the guys back."

The simple way she said that, after we get the guys back, soothed my soul. She spoke with such confidence like this was a foregone conclusion.

"Hey." She reached across the desk and patted my hand. "I get worked up sometimes. I know Books meant well, but he has a warped viewpoint of the world...and himself...based on how he grew up."

All I could do was nod. I was starting to see that everything wasn't as black and white as he made it out to be. That didn't mean I wasn't appreciative of his role in my life.

"He still helped me. No matter what his message had done, he helped me. He gave me a way out when I needed it most."

She sighed. "I don't know you, but I like you. So I'm going to let you in on a secret." She leaned forward and cupped her hand around her mouth like she was really going to tell me one. "The world is complex as shit. So are the people. You have to decide what's true and not true for yourself. That's not truths like the sky is blue. I mean, you have to find your truth. What you want out of life and what you're willing to sacrifice for it. It could be you remove every single person who's ever had more than a speeding ticket out of your life–"

I opened my mouth to object, but she raised her hand.

"That's an exaggeration. Just listen. If you did that, you'd save yourself a lot of mess and trouble. But it would be pretty boring and lonely. These boys? You love them. I can tell because it's in your eyes and your voice. They sound like they're into some shady things. You'll have to find out their reasons and if they're willing to change at all. Then you have to ask yourself if a little bit of gray is worth a colorful future of happiness." She grinned. "I know that sounds cliché, but it's true. I also think it's important to know the reasons for their dealings. Are they doing good with it? Don't answer that. I don't need to know."

"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions." I wasn't religious, but it still was the first thing I thought of.

"True, but I'd like to think I do a lot of good in the world and I do a lot of bad to accomplish it. Everything has an opportunity cost."

She asked me what happened after high school, and I told her about my time with the boys, leaving nothing out. I’d just gotten to the part about working with Linda. How this gruff woman gave me a job, taught me how to drive, and even showed me how to handle the gun she kept behind the counter for emergencies.

Her phone chimed.

Bishop looked at the screen. Her grin morphed into a full-blown smile. "Looks like we have a decent idea of where they're being held. The house is registered to someone the network is very familiar with…" She whistled. "Looks like it's your lucky day. My contact is sending some people who have a vested interest in your boys."

The pope could come for all I cared, as long as we saved them now.