In Her Tracks (Tracy Crosswhite #8)(43)

Stephanie looked across the room to Angel Jackson. “Are you all right?”

Angel had her head back against the wall, her eyes shut.

“Angel? Are you all right?”

“Let her be,” Donna Jones said. “She’s dreaming she’s somewhere else.”

In the light peeking between the slats of the room, Stephanie could better see the two women than in the darkness of the room where she’d first been chained. Angel had dark skin, African American or Hispanic. Donna was fair, with light-brown hair. She had track marks inside her arms. Heroin. The new drug of choice.

Stephanie and Angel had spoken in the basement. Donna mostly kept quiet. Angel had told Stephanie the men had abducted her first, a few months before they abducted Donna. She said the men brought them both to motels, then drugged them.

“Why didn’t Franklin touch me?” Stephanie asked Donna. “Why only Angel?”

“He didn’t touch you, or me, because we don’t belong to him,” Donna said.

“Don’t belong to him?”

“Angel belongs to Franklin. I belong to Carrol. I guess Evan’s got you.” She smiled. “Look around, Little Miss Sunshine. Look at the scraps of carpet, the flattened cardboard, the chains. We ain’t nothing but junkyard dogs to them. Pets. They own us.”

Stephanie wiped tears. “Is there something wrong with Evan? He seems . . .”

“Retarded?” Donna said. “They’re all retarded. A bunch of inbred motherfuckers. But Evan . . .” Donna laughed. “I see the way he looks at you. He looks at you like he’s got something special planned for you.”

“What?” Stephanie asked, fear welling inside.

“Oh yeah, Evan will be coming for you. Franklin’s just put his ass on probation for the time being, but your time is coming, sweetheart. He’s going to have his fun with you. What’s he keep asking you? If you want to play?” She shook her head, chuckling. “I’d be scared shitless if I was you.”

“Leave her alone,” Angel said. She did not lift her head from the wall or open her eyes.

“You’ve seen it too,” Donna said to Stephanie. “The way he looks at you—like a kid staring at presents under a Christmas tree that he just can’t wait to unwrap.”

Tears streamed down Stephanie’s cheeks. How did she get here? How did her life come to this? She should have stayed home. She shouldn’t have been so eager to get away from her parents, but she couldn’t take the constant bickering and fighting. She thought it would get better after the divorce but it only seemed to get worse. Battles about money, about the cost of Stephanie’s education, which is why she chose not to go on to college. She had the grades. She had the ambition, but she was tired of being the pawn between them. She just wanted a fresh start. Life had to be better, she thought. She had no idea how wrong she had been.

“Why you got to do that?” Angel said, opening her eyes.

Donna rested her head back against the wall. “What else am I gonna do?”

Angel looked to Stephanie. “You listen to me. When your time comes, you just close your eyes and try to think you’re someplace else. You think of that boy in high school you always liked. You think of him and just drift off, go someplace else. Then it won’t be so bad.”



When Franklin reentered the kitchen, Carrol and Evan sat at the table whispering like two girls. Each had a beer in his hand. Carrol picked at the label, a nervous habit, like his stuttering. Evan stared at the tabletop.

“You get those branches cut back from the road?” Franklin asked.

“We . . . we . . . we got as far as we could.”

Meaning the lazy shits quit. “Stop stuttering.”

“I’m try . . . try . . . trying.”

Franklin took Evan’s beer from the table and drank from it. “What are you two idiots talking about anyway?”

Evan looked to Carrol.

“Something you mean to say?” Franklin asked Carrol. “Then get on with it. Say what you have to say.”

“Me and Evan, we . . . we . . . we . . . don’t think it right that you got to be with your woman, and we can’t.”

Goddamn idiot stuttered even when he tried to act like a tough guy. “Yeah?” Franklin looked to his youngest brother. “That what you think, Evan?”

Evan lifted his gaze from the tabletop. “I want to play with her.”

“I . . . I . . . I . . . didn’t do nothing wrong. I d . . . d . . . done what you said from the start. Waited my turn and f . . . f . . . found my girl the right way, just like you said. I don’t see w . . . w . . . why I’m being punished for something Evan did.”

Franklin laughed. “So you’re throwing Evan under the bus? How you feel about that, little brother?”

“What bus?” Evan said.

Franklin laughed. “The one that just ran you over, and you don’t even know it.” He looked to Carrol. “Who was supposed to keep an eye on Evan when I went grocery shopping?”

“Evan’s a grown man,” Carrol said.

“Yeah,” Evan said. “I’m a grown man.”

“Well, the circumstance we are currently in would be serious evidence to the contrary, now wouldn’t it?” Franklin looked to Carrol. “You know he’s a dumbshit. Couldn’t find his ass with both hands if he was sitting on them.”