Ramsey Security (Ramsey Security #1-3)(2)
Only when I see them do I realize I'm screaming. The officers stop smiling at their earlier conversation and look at me running in their direction.
"I am Darla!" I scream.
Mister Pain's fingers brush my shoulder once. They also graze my hair, tearing a few strands from my scalp. He's nearly on top of me when the officers appear.
Refusing to look back, I don't see him fleeing. I only hear someone say he has a gun. I think officers chase after him. What I know is I barrel into one of the policemen and hold on for dear life.
Mayhem surrounds me, first on the street and then at the hospital. Officers and doctors ask questions, but I don't know the answers. I cry when they promise my sister is flying to Los Angeles to get me from the hospital. Even with freedom at my grasp, I can only say one thing.
"I am Darla."
2
~~~
Darla
Never Let Me Go
Footsteps weren't allowed at Locke's home unless they belonged to him. He preferred silence most times. When I needed punishing, he insisted I be taken to a sound-proof room so my screams wouldn't upset him. Locke desires a silent, controlled world.
Five minutes in my sister's palatial Texas home would send him into a psychotic rage. Eight-year-old Diana wears her tap shoes everywhere. Six-year-old John wants to be a firefighter, so he makes the siren noises endlessly. The family's two Maltese dogs chase the boy around the house and bark at his pretend siren. Their cat sits next to me on the couch, meowing at the ceiling fan.
"She sees ghosts," Shelley says to me.
I share my sister's smile, but the noise drives me mad. Living too long in silence has left me over-stimulated by this normal life. Shelley tries to help by reminding the kids that I'm sick and need quiet. They lower their volume for a while. As children, though, their favored form of communication is endless blaring noise.
Despite marrying for money and security, Shelley truly loves Vern. They're happy together but share no great passion. I once believed she shortchanged herself by marrying a rich weenie over a sexy stud. Now I understand. Passion is overrated. Locke's obsession with Rose is pure madness and born from passion. Vern will never love her in such a perverse, all-consuming way.
Two months after running to freedom, I remain at their new home in Houston. After I had disappeared from the cruise, Shelley believed I was dead. Yet she lies these days by claiming she always knew I'd return. I don't blame her for believing what she did or for lying now. Once Mistress Agony slipped me a spiked drink, I disappeared into a world Shelley couldn't fathom.
This isn't the home Shelley lived in when we took the cruise. She claims they were building the house when I disappeared, but I can't remember this fact anymore. I don't remember many things. Diana's middle name is Ethel. She's named after our grandmother who raised us. I remember this but not that John's middle name is after our grandfather Edgar. Such small things to forget. Meaningless things stolen away by Locke's punishments.
What else have I forgotten? What other memories from my 26 years on this planet are forever lost as a result of the electric shock treatments I suffered to become a better Rose? I can only guess what I don't know. Sitting on the couch, I count the blank spots in my mind. When Shelley mentions a friend from school, I nod at her story, but I don't remember our old friend. The last few weeks, I've stopped mentioning how much I've forgotten. Shelley worries enough already when she thinks about my nine months away from her.
Vern is gone a lot for business. Shelley never seems to mind his absences, even if she's also happy when he's at home. My sister is a naturally happy person. I think I was too once. Now I stare at the TV all hours of the day and try to ignore all the noise in the world.
"I should have married Louie Chan," I say to Shelley when she joins me on the couch one night.
"You wouldn't have been happy with him."
"If I married him, I'd have been a mom years ago. I'd be unworthy of Locke's interest when he saw me on the cruise. Even if I'd never be desperately in love with Louie, I'd be safe and comfortable."
Shelley opens her mouth to say something upbeat. When she can't think of anything to fix what's broken, my sister closes her mouth.
"You're safe now," she finally says, scooting closer. "You like it here, don't you?"
Leaning my head on her shoulder, I sigh. "It's a beautiful house."
"Once they catch the bastard, you can rebuild your life and forget what happened."
I nod at her words, believing none of them. Outside on the patio, the two private security contractors speak quietly. Vern hired them after we noticed someone following us home from the store. Shelley said the stalker was likely someone from the press. My story interested people. The news ran stories about my abduction and escape. They played the videos taken by citizens when I ran down the streets to freedom. The tabloids weaved wild stories about where I'd been and how I'd truly gotten away. By refusing to tell my story, I'd allowed the media to tell it for me. As obnoxious as the attention could be, the media's stalking kept Locke from reclaiming his Rose. So far anyway.
Selfishly, I want to believe he'll find another Rose. After all, I'm not the first fake Rose or even the second. Locke refused to be careful with his Roses, leaving us broken and needing replacing.