The Chance (Thunder Point #4)(54)

“What will happen to this place?” Eric asked.

“Auction, I suppose. Come and see,” she said, leading him to the house.

It was a beautiful structure undamaged by the fire, a large Victorian style with huge rooms and a wraparound porch. Inside it was not only abandoned and deserted, but also dirty and cluttered. Detectives had plowed through every drawer and cupboard, but of course, nothing was put back. It was plundered in search of evidence.

The kitchen was enormous with a long, family-style table that could seat at least twenty. “The family ate here. The women, children, Jacob and often the men who watched over the place.”

“Did you cook for the family?”

She shook her head. “I had chores and sometimes I had chores in the kitchen, but they didn’t know I could cook. Or that I liked to cook.”

“Why not? That’s important to you.”

“Oh, lots of reasons. My backstory—I was poor, down on my luck. I wouldn’t have had the means. And...I wouldn’t bring my mother into this. It was subtle, but it was perverse.” She walked through the kitchen and out the back door. She started down the porch steps, then stopped and sat down. “The women who lived here were all afraid of the same thing—that they had no options, no choices. They let Jacob have his way because that made him happy and while he was happy, they had safety and plenty to eat. They had children and nowhere to go. They were afraid if they left, if they ran away, they wouldn’t survive. Since they’d been in shelters or living on the streets before he found them, it wasn’t too hard for him to convince them that’s all they were worth.”

Eric sat down beside her and took her hand.

“You can’t imagine how much I wanted to start working to convince them they’d been manipulated, tricked. Brainwashed. But I couldn’t. I had to be one of them so we could get to the bottom of what was going on here. And of course, get them out before Jacob and his little militia used them as shields. I had to take my time, sneak them out slowly so it would seem they ran away, so they wouldn’t give me or anyone inside away. It was hard to go slowly.”

“I’m surprised you wanted to see it again,” he said. “Why did you bring me?”

“You asked me about it. I wanted you to see it.” She pointed to the structure across the river, half burned down, half just charred. One of the warehouses was just a lump of black ash, the other was still standing. “That’s Jacob’s house, half-standing. The bunkhouse is gone—it was next to the burned warehouse. The house is where I was shot. Then I got Mercy, Devon’s little girl, and we hid in the river while Jacob drove away. He went straight down the river then took some hidden back road I didn’t know about. And not long after he escaped, Rawley found us. It was Rawley, Cooper, Spencer and Devon. Spencer carried me down the road to the police blockade, where I got medical attention. But none of those men knew me or were in it to rescue me. Devon was coming after her child and they wouldn’t let her come out here without them.”

“You must have been terrified,” he said.

“Before I passed out, yeah. Before we were rescued I heard a shot in the house—the woman I had to leave behind. She was the only one I couldn’t get out and I don’t think I’ll ever get over that. Right after that shot was fired and Jacob was gone, I passed out. I woke up in the ambulance for a minute, just long enough for them to knock me out again. Then long enough in the E.R. to hear the doctor explain I was going to surgery. The news that I would have died had I not been rescued is still kind of hazy to me. Surreal. Or, out of reality, maybe. I never had any of those near-death visions or anything. What I had was pain in my shoulder and neck. White-hot, blinding pain. And before that was resolved, I was on a plane back to Virginia, where the self-proclaimed best orthopedic surgeon in Boston was waiting for me so he could look at my medical records and treatment options.”

“Your father,” Eric said. “Was he awful?”

She shook her head. “He restrained himself. I think he could tell by one look at my expression, which was not tolerant, I wasn’t putting up with anything from him.”

“But he was there,” Eric said.

“He was. And he stayed for days...days without giving me any shit about my job—a record for Senior. My shoulder fixed up pretty quick but my elbow was killing me until a few weeks ago. I mean, what’s that about? I didn’t get shot in the elbow!”

He laughed at her. She was the strongest, bravest woman he’d ever met.

“I must have fallen on it, that’s what the surgeon said.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t stay on the East coast.”

“Well, that’s the other thing I wanted to tell you. I thought I was running away from Senior and at the same time, getting a think break from the office. But I was really coming back for this. I just didn’t realize it.”

“This?”

“I needed closure. I had to see this place disarmed. I wanted to know it was really over. Behind me.”

He took a deep breath. “Do you have some closure now?” he asked hesitantly.

“There are things you should know. If you’re not beside me, I like a dim light on at night or I can’t fall asleep. I have dreams—sometimes I hear a gunshot. I refuse to tell anyone from work that this is hard for me because they want to be accepting, but they would judge me as ‘affected.’ I’m not. I’m just a person recovering from a violent crime. I’m not the strongest person alive. I’m strong, but not infallible. And I needed to do this with you, Eric. I want you to know the truth about me—that I get scared like anyone would, that I’m vulnerable sometimes, and that you’re the only person I trust enough to be completely honest with. I always told Pax I was fine—I wouldn’t let the agents I worked with know how messed up I felt, sometimes still feel. I could never tell Senior. To survive something like this,” she said, waving a hand at their surroundings, “only to be called an idiot—it was the last straw. But I want you to know the truth.”