Pinky Promises

by CiaraShayee

When two little girls were allowed to walk home from school one bright spring day nobody could've predicted the events that followed. The way two families were torn apart by the vendetta of a deranged man. Twelve years on, we'll watch as two girls stolen away from their homes at eight years old fight to take back their lives. If only it were as simple as escaping. M for violence.

20. Chapter Nineteen

~ oOo ~

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Get on with it ;)

~ oOo ~

Summary: When two little girls were allowed to walk

home from school one bright spring day nobody could've

predicted the events that followed. The way two families

were torn apart by the vendetta of a deranged man.

Nearly twelve years on, we'll watch as the two girls stolen

away from their homes at eight years old fight to take

back their lives. If only it were as simple as escaping. AU

Pinky Promises

Chapter Nineteen

"I want officers and my agents covering every exit. Martin, Jensen, I want you at the entrance with Bruce. Thompson, you're at the rear entrance with two of my men. Got it?"

Two stern-faced agents and an officer nodded before moving swiftly to their stations. Riley slumped back in the chair he'd been given in the temporary office set up in the police headquarters. It was almost nine a.m., his tie already suffocating him while the walls seemed to creep closer and closer with every passing second.

Instead of waiting outside for the Swans and Hales as he'd planned, Riley was forced to stay inside the station. He stood to glower out of the window at the cause of his confinement.

Thick blue gates held back the hordes of journalists and curious civilians. Somehow, the girls' location had been leaked.

The agitated FBI agent had already been made aware of the responsible party, and had made the leak wet his pants from the verbal tongue-lashing Riley accosted him with, before he fired the traitorous fool.

Anything that made this day harder than it needed to be was a big no-no in his book. Access to certain areas of the station had been restricted, all of their female officers had been pulled in to work the security points, and Riley had made the necessary arrangements to have security from his own detail flown in. He was frustrated with the entire situation. Having hoped to keep Scarlett, Rosalie, and Marley safe from the press for a while longer, he was furious at their loss of privacy so soon after arriving back in England. They'd had a mere three days to get used to their homes again before being thrust into the limelight. With press gathered from all over the country, as well as some from further afield, he knew it was only a matter of time before he'd have to take drastic action to ensure their safety.

As far as he was concerned, if the world knew where the girls were, so did Garrett Smith.

"Sir, they're just around the corner."

Riley swung to face one of the local officers cowering in the door. The tense atmosphere radiating from Riley wasn't exactly pleasant to be around, and the officer had already had the pleasure of witnessing the mole's punishment firsthand. Needless to say, he wasn't in the mood for pissing the FBI agent off any further.

"Thank you." Long strides carried him quickly through the hallways towards the entrance, where he shoved through the doors onto the pavement outside. Journalists spotted him, yelling for his attention. They fired questions about Charlie and Peter, the girls, their captor. So far, they had no idea what was going on. No idea about Marley, or the unborn child in Scarlett's womb.

Riley intended to keep it that way.

He knew the Swans and Hales had arrived when the crowd lost interest in him, a ripple of even louder noise spreading through their ranks. The gates were opened with haste, and the two cars pulled in, a trio of Riley's agents as well as a handful of police officers ensuring the station was secured behind them.

Two men, both well over six feet tall, joined Riley as the cars pulled up. Charlie and Peter were the first to get out, expressions confused as they asked, "how do they know?"

Riley shook his head, telling them he'd explain later, before moving to open the rear car door. Scarlett was nearest to him, sliding from the car hesitantly. She was swamped in Edward's clothes, but immediately the press seemed to catch on that she was one of the girls, though with her hair tucked into the pulled-up hood of Edward's dark gray marl hoodie they had no way of telling which one. Edward slipped out behind her, instinctively tucking an arm around her shoulders.

"It's okay, just ignore them," Riley said gently, wanting to shoot each and every person shouting questions from the other side of the fence.

Despite the way she trembled a little, surprised to have Edward so close to her, Scarlett made no effort to shake off his arm. At that moment in time, Edward's presence was very much welcomed, even if it did make goosebumps ripple over her skin. The people yelling from the other side of the car park and the two large men standing near the car meant nothing to her, cocooned in the safety of Edward's arms, as she was.

Edward glared at the amassed army of nosy journalists and cameramen as though his fury at their inconsideration of the girls' feelings would disperse them. The volume of the crowd increased incrementally when Rosalie stepped out into Peter's arms, the hood of his borrowed hoodie covering her hair and face from the snap-happy cameras. Archie joined them as Edward scooped Marley from the backseat and they all hurried inside. As soon as the glass doors closed behind them, the outside noise became a quiet rumble, muffling the shouts.

"Are you okay?" Riley asked the girls, eyeing their tiny frames in too-large clothes, while trying not to show his agitation at the situation. As he led the group through the mostly empty hallways towards the soft interview room where they would be waiting, Scarlett and Rosalie dropped their hoods. To Riley's surprise, they both looked better than he imagined they would. Both seemed rested, though their eyes flitted nervously around everything they passed.

"How did they know we were here, I thought you said they wouldn't?"

At Rosalie's quiet words, Riley couldn't help but wince. He had said the situation would be under control, that they'd be safe. Of course, he hadn't counted on a stupid man bragging to his friends over drinks that he was helping with the Swan-Hale case.

"There was a breach. An officer shot his mouth off to the wrong person. You're all safe, nobody can get you here, so please don't worry. You have my sincere apologies for that debacle outside."

Nobody could doubt his heartfelt tone or the look on his face, not even the girls' dads who were gunning for somebody to blame. They'd been ambushed by the press at the end of the road. For Charlie and Peter, this was a strangely familiar scene. They were taken back to a time when their lives were falling apart – the day they'd come for a press conference in front of the live media to beg for information. A little over twelve years later, they found themselves in the same building, only this time, they could see, hear, and touch their daughters. They were home, safe.

In the soft interview room twenty minutes later, Peter and Charlie paced. Archie sat with his head atop tented hands, eyes intent on the clock hanging on the wall. Edward leaned against the wall next to the window, alternately gazing at the dark gray and black clouds rolling in from the coast, and at Marley playing with the dollhouse in the corner of the room.

Roy and Mary had just been on the phone to their son-in-law to inform him that there were cameramen and representatives from most newspapers and television shows decorating their lawns and the street surrounding them. A team had been dispatched to secure the premises, and the two agents Riley had drafted in were on their way to begin their duties early. He also had someone working on a short statement for the press, because he knew from experience that without one, it was likely they'd only be hounding them worse.

On one of two three-seater sofas, Rosalie sat cross-legged, sipping a glass of water from the cooler that stood against one pale yellow wall. On the other sofa, Scarlett sat, her head tipped back against the cushions, eyes closed, lips parted only enough to allow her to breathe, left leg crossed over right. On either side of the door leading to the hallway one guard stood – the two men from outside a short while before. The man on the inside, Robert Rodriguez, mused that if it weren't for the way Scarlett rhythmically clenched and unclenched her hand you'd be hard-pressed to tell whether she was sleeping or no longer with them. It was unsettling, to say the least.

Hearing the sound of footsteps long before the others, Scarlett's eyes slid open to rest on Rosalie opposite her. The sofas had been placed in such a way that they were parallel, with a pair of armchairs adjacent, the wall housing the door and a bookshelf filled with books and magazines bookending the seats. In Rosalie's eyes, Scarlett could clearly see nerves, anticipation, and fear. Up and down the far side of the room, Charlie and Peter paced, crossing over on the fifth stride every time, their hands alternating between their pockets, hair, and sides.

Despite the looming hours of hellish questioning, Rosalie couldn't help but smile a little as she looked from Scarlett's outwardly serene face to her dad's frantic movements. He hadn't shaved in days, so he sported a beard as well as a longer-than-usual cut atop his head. His light blue eyes shone with a frenzy of emotion. Even as he muttered something about this being 'a horrible idea,' Rosalie found her lips twisting upwards. It took a few moments for her to realize that she was going to have to try really hard to stop the hysterical giggles worming their way up her windpipe. They were totally inappropriate for the situation, but they were all that would come when Riley came back for her, if she didn't sort her emotions out soon.

He had already informed the group that Rosalie would be making her statement first, then she and Scarlett would swap to allow both girls breaks in between. Nobody was under any illusion that this four-day stint was going to be anything but a hideous ordeal for Scarlett and Rosalie. All they could do was try to minimize its hideousness.

The footsteps Scarlett had picked up on belonged to Riley, who'd come to speak with Charlie and Peter before they began. The room he'd be using was next door, but the observation room on the other side of that room was the point of contention. Riley wasn't sure the girls' loved ones should be in there while he spoke to Scarlett and Rosalie. Though he understood Charlie and Peter's hesitation in having their girls out of eyeshot, it was going to be a difficult day for everybody involved, not least the girls. He tried to convey the point to the dads that should they decide to observe the interviews it was inevitable they'd hear things that would anger them. He, himself, wasn't sure how he was going to keep his calm, professional manner in check now that he'd gotten to know the girls a little. The time spent with them in the safe house was the most profoundly life-changing weeks of his forty-eight years.

He could only imagine, though he didn't like to, the torture it would doubtlessly be for Charlie and Peter to hear what had obviously been a horrific twelve years in the lives of their daughters.

When Riley led Rosalie into the room they'd chosen to give the interviews in, it was with the knowledge that Peter, at least, was in the observation room on the other side of the large, reflective glass mirror. There was also the prerequisite police officer to ensure nothing went awry.

The room they'd chosen was decorated a pale yellow, off-white shade, a two-seater sofa adjacent to a green armchair with a chipped white-wood coffee table nearby, as well as a camera set up on a tripod in the corner. As Rosalie gulped hard and took her seat in the armchair, her gaze flicked subconsciously to the window where she knew her dad would be watching, worrying, wondering what he'd be shortly listening to. She couldn't help but consider whether it was the right decision to have him in that room. He was strong, tough, wanting so much to be the man his daughters needed whenever they hurt, but this wasn't a fall in the playground or a rogue bull in the park. This was big.

Depending on how long it would take Rosalie to explain everything, Peter – and whoever else wandered into the observation room – would have four days of hearing how his daughter and niece were systematically forced to give up everything they loved, forced to pretend they were Garrett Smith's adoring daughters, forced to be, essentially, slaves. Seeing how protective he'd become, to the point of sleeping on Charlie's sofa every night despite living next door, Rosalie knew how much hearing this was going to hurt him.

"Rosalie? Are you okay?" Riley's purposefully soft voice interrupted her morose thought of her dad.

She blinked at him, inhaling deeply. "I…I think so."

He nodded sadly, head turning at the sound of the door opening. Slowly, and with the gentlest of smiles, a woman stepped inside.

"Miss Hale, Mr. Lawrence, I'm Chief Inspector Kendra Wallace."

Rosalie cast a questioning look to Riley, who acknowledged her unspoken question with a slight dip of his head before addressing the Chief Inspector.

"We've been expecting you, come in."

The woman, with soft hazel eyes and a wavy, light brown bob, took a seat beside him on the sofa. Her gaze radiated sympathy; Rosalie's stomach turned.

And so it begins.

"Okay, Rosalie, I just need to remind you that we need the entire truth today, and as much detail as you can remember, all right? Anything and everything, even if it seems silly to you. Do you understand?"

Rosalie gulped, nodding. "Ye-yes, Riley. I understand."

Riley nodded, giving her a small, reassuring smile. "Good. Why don't you start with telling us what happened on February 7th, 2004."

"Well, we were walking home, like normal, then all of a sudden two men came up behind us in a van and grabbed us. One of them covered my mouth with his hand and threw me in a van." She sucked in a deep breath, stumbling over Smith's name. "G-Garrett was the one who got Scarlett."

"Can you tell us what you remember about the other man?"

"He had black hair. Um, it was long, and it didn't look like he'd washed it in a while. We didn't see him again, though."

Kendra took over as Riley made some rapid notes on the pad in his lap. Her voice was soft, but she had a steely look on her face. "Rosalie, what happened after the men put you in the van? Did they say anything?"

"I don't…I think he started to tell us not to scream or anything, but then he started coming towards us so I—" Rosalie coughed, clearing her throat. "I kicked him. In the face, I mean. I kicked him here," she pointed to her own jaw, warmed by the almost proud half-smile Riley shot her.

"Just for the tape, Rosalie, who did you kick?"

"Garrett. I kicked Garrett. The other guy was driving. He—Garrett—had a towel in each hand, and he was coming at us with them, so I just kicked out at him. He got distracted, but then he got us anyway. I think there was something on the towels, because that's all I remember until we got to the…to the ranch."

"What happened when you got to the ranch?"

"It was really late, but he locked me upstairs in a room without any lights and took Scarlett away. I found out later that they went to his s-study. When she came back, Scarlett told me that we had to pretend he was our d-d-d…our father, and his wife was our mo-mother. We couldn't tell anyone who we were, and we had to pretend to be twins so people wouldn't ask why we looked the same age. Scarlett kept telling me to hang in there, that someone would come for us. We kept waiting and waiting…We thought it wouldn't be long, that we could just stay in bed until the police came."

Seeing Rosalie's agitation, Riley gently tried to re-direct her. "Tell me about your daily routine."

"Um, basically we just had to look after the ranch. I mean, we weren't very old so most stuff we didn't have a clue, but we tried to learn quickly. Cooking and stuff, we just had to learn as we went along. And there were some cook books laying around. All the cleaning we just kind of figured out over time."

"And were you ever allowed off the ranch? Did you ever go anywhere?"

"No. Never. We never left the ranch until we escaped."

"Okay. And were you the only ones on the ranch?"

Even though she knew Riley was aware there were ranch hands, she understood that he had to ask. This entire process had been explained to her beforehand. Riley needed as much information as possible, but he couldn't be seen to lead her in any of her answers, so some of his questions would seem repetitive or silly, bearing in mind all he already knew.

"No. Every spring new men would show up to help with the ranch, but by winter they'd gradually leave again because there was less to do."

"Did the same ones ever come back?"

"Not really. A few stayed year-round, but mostly they just came for a few months then we didn't see them again. They stayed away from us but we heard Garrett warning them that we were off-limits, so I'm not surprised. They all seemed a bit wary of him. The few that stayed all the time ended up being good friends…" Rosalie trailed off, picturing Emmett's face in the rear-view mirror back at the ranch. She hadn't been able to shake the image from her mind, and often remembered driving away from him in her dreams.

They continued in this manner for almost two hours – Riley or Kendra prompting, Rosalie doing her best to give as much detail as she could. There were lots of things she didn't know, or were secondhand knowledge because Garrett had, for some reason or another, never actually focused his abuse or attention on Rosalie.

"Thank you, Rosalie. You're doing great, really, really great. Now, please can you tell us about Garrett, and how he treated you and Scarlett."

"Um, like when he was a-abusive?"

Riley nodded, so she sighed and steeled herself.

"We'd been there a few months when he did it the first time, I think. We were making lunch, and he came into the kitchen to get coffee. He told me to make him some with the new machine, but I didn't know how, so Scarlett did it instead. When he came back, he was really mad, and dragged her out of the room. He sent me upstairs, though. I didn't mean for her to get into trouble for me! I didn't know what to do! And then, and then, she always got in trouble, even if things were my fault. He was so horrid to her. And I didn't mean for her to get hurt. I'm sorry! Oh, God, I'm so sorry!"

At this point, Rosalie was all but hyperventilating. Riley moved quickly from his seat to rub her back in soothing circles, murmuring words of reassurance as she fought to suck in enough oxygen. Glancing up at Kendra, Riley made a quick decision.

"She's had enough. We'll see if Scarlett's ready, and let Rosalie have a break." He squeezed her shoulder gently, bending a little to give her a soft smile. "You can take a break now, okay? There's no rush."

Rosalie nodded jerkily, eyes darting towards the large window. She knew her dad was on the other side, though it was Scarlett she needed first. Riley stood, helping her stand on fawn-like legs, and led her from the room.

~ oOo ~

The sun emerged from between two thick clouds, peeking at the spectacle below for a second before retreating behind its cover. Rain permeated the clothes of the journalists and their cameramen who were gathered outside the station, all of them under orders to get the money shot. They all wanted to see the girls nobody had set eyes on in over a decade.

A lone seagull swooped overhead, his shadow moving across the carpark, a single white feather dropping to fly past a cluster of windows at the back of the station. Charlie, Archie, and Edward were standing on the other side of one of those windows, watching Scarlett carefully. Her eyes were once again closed, head tipped back against the sofa, chest moving in unnaturally slow movements with each breath. For her dad, brother, and friend, the sight was unsettling, to say the least.

The only saving grace was that Marley had fallen asleep against Edward's chest, her arms wound around his neck, face resting against his shoulder. Every puff of breath against his neck made Edward tighten his grip infinitesimally.

"She looks…" Archie trailed off with a wince. He couldn't even bring himself to say the words.

Edward's face screwed up in a grimace, as he turned away, unable to look at her any longer. His whole body was tense, muscles tight as he fought his anger to stay as calm as possible. For Marley, resting in his arms, Scarlett, and for Rosalie – who'd been next-door with Riley and Kendra Wallace for almost two hours, by then.

The steadily increasing anxiety of the men was at an all-time high, because they were very aware Rosalie's long session meant Scarlett's was getting closer. At this point in time, they weren't sure what to expect from the still, silent Scarlett. Charlie had expected nerves, possible even a panic attack, but in true Scarlett fashion she'd had him perplexed and more than a little nervous with her subdued, seemingly content, demeanor. As much as he hated to see his baby girl upset, it was almost worse to see her this way; sure she must be hiding her true emotions. Surely, she couldn't really be relaxed in the face of her upcoming task?

A few passing minutes found Edward patting the pockets of his cargo shorts with the hand not supporting Marley. Charlie's eyes flicked to him, a slight smirk pulling at the right side of his mouth. "Still haven't given up, huh?"

Edward's eyes gave away his shame as he smiled wryly. "Still trying. It's harder than it looks."

Despite himself, Charlie snorted amusedly. It had been years since he smoked. He'd given up shortly before Penelope and Tina died, at his beloved wife's insistence. She'd announced that he'd have no more kisses from her until she didn't have to taste smoke on his lips, and he'd gone cold turkey that very day. Sure, he'd had relapses, but he'd stuck to his guns and cashed in on the extra kisses it earned him.

However, he could easily recognize the signs of a smoker in need when he saw them, which was why he'd picked up a pack of cigarettes the night before when he'd gone shopping. The look of gratefulness on Edward's face when he spotted the silver packet would have been comical if it weren't for the fact that his fingers wrapping around the pack coincided with the click of the door opening. Rosalie's grief-stricken face was visible for only a second before Scarlett's curls obscured it, her arms looping around her sister as they moved to slump on the sofa in a tangle of hair, entwined limbs, muffled sobs, and Scarlett's murmured words, so quiet that nobody but she and Rosalie could hear them.

Edward's urge to smoke melted away instantly at the sight of the girls' obvious distress, the look on Peter's face when he entered a minute later so murderously angry, so heartbreakingly sad, that he wondered how his friends were all going to get through this intact. So clearly he could remember the determination Charlie, Peter, and Archie, among others, showed every time he visited. Every time he saw them on TV, he saw their fight, their strength, but looking at their solemn faces now? They just seemed lost.

"Oh God," Charlie's voice was a mere, choked whisper. When Edward glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, he came to a sudden realization. This was why Scarlett had been so quiet, so 'relaxed.' She'd been holding herself together for Rosalie. She knew this would happen, predicted her collapse. Suddenly, her behavior made sense in a way it hadn't before.

Edward found himself struggling to comprehend the bond the girls shared, but at the same time, he was so very thankful they'd had it to rely on. Had each other to rely on. To him, an only child of only children, he'd always puzzled at the relationships of siblings and the way they behaved with one another. With Archie, Rosalie, and Scarlett, it was always different. Even as babies, the girls were close on an elemental level, their bond only strengthening as they grew into toddlers, children, teenagers, now adults. To look at them was to see the unbreakable, remarkably tenable connection between the two. Never had Edward seen something so tangible, so heart-rending.

His heart racing, palms clammy, and throat tight, he muttered an apology as he gently laid Marley on the spare sofa, keeping her asleep, and left the room in a few long strides. Somehow, with his mind preoccupied, he still managed to find his way out to the back of the station where Riley planned to have the girls leave later. He fell through the doors with unusual clumsiness for the normally well-balanced young man.

The two agents and single police officer guarding the doors gave Edward room to breathe, respectfully averting their eyes when he doubled over with his hands on his knees, with shallow, huffed breaths pushing themselves from his lips. The image of Scarlett sitting so still and silent haunted his mind so harshly that he found himself fighting back nausea. His stomach rolled, remembering Archie's words. She looks… Nobody had needed him to finish. Both men present knew he'd meant to say 'she looked dead,' and he wouldn't have been wrong.

A maelstrom of emotions tore through Edward's psyche, his mind trying to reconcile the image of the bouncy, curly-haired livewire he once knew, with the somber, mostly-silent young woman who'd pushed everything to the side to be strong for Rosalie. For the young man, the worst thing he could say he'd lived through was the death of his childhood pet, so it was difficult for him to place the emotions currently pulling at him left, right, and center.

Reaching up to turn his cap so the bill was to the back of his head, Edward tugged at his Henley, undoing the top two buttons in an attempt to feel less claustrophobic. Is this how Scarlett feels when she has a panic attack? he wondered, turning to face the opening doors. Peter huffed an angry breath, chest rising and falling heavily.

"Is she okay?" Edward rasped through a tight throat.

"As well as can be expected, I guess." The distressed dad yanked at his hair, scrubbing his face roughly. "God, I hate this! I hate this!"

Before Edward could move to stop him, Peter spun, slamming his fist into the 'smoking area' sign. Thankfully for Peter's hand, the sign was hanging, so it simply cracked and fell to the ground instead of shattering his knuckles, though, as Edward grappled him against the wall he spotted trickles of blood on Peter's pale skin.

"Calm down! Cazzo, do you think Rosalie needs this? Shit, Pete." In all the years Edward had known Peter, he'd never seen him this out of sorts. Especially not enough to hit something. The man's eyes were wide, unseeing for a long moment as Edward held him to the wall with his fists clenched in Peter's polo shirt, pressed against the top of his chest to hold him still. It was easy to see the exact moment the fight drained from his body. Peter's eyes slid shut, his body slumping as a lone tear trickled over his cheek.

"Sorry," he breathed slowly. "I'm sorry, Edward. I can't even…seeing her like that…she's so broken. I didn't even realize how much 'til just now."

The anguish Edward saw in Peter's light blue eyes when he re-opened them was enough to make him wince. At twenty-six years old, he had no children, nor was he in any rush to have them, but gazing at Peter's face, he could clearly see the great amount of pain he was in from seeing his daughter upset. In the past two hours, he'd obviously heard things that, as a father, he never thought he'd have to hear. The things Rosalie had seen, been told, how she'd been treated. Having visited as many times as his busy career allowed, Edward had been privy to more than one breakdown, but he could tell this wasn't the same. It was on a completely different scale. Edward couldn't even begin to imagine the pain Peter must have been in after seeing his daughter have to relive her ordeal, considering how hard even he was finding it seeing Scarlett and Rosalie suffer.

A dark head of hair and sad, resigned eyes peeked around the door five minutes later to find Peter and Edward almost at the end of their second cigarettes. Archie gulped, meeting first his uncle's, then his friend's eyes. "Uh, Scarlett's goin' in. Dad told me to come tell you, so…"

"Of course." Peter, now calmer although still fuming, dropped the stick to the ground before stubbing it out and following his nephew, for all intents and purposes, inside. Edward hesitated for a moment, heaving in a deep breath as he stepped through the doors. The silent trio rounded the final corner just in time to see Scarlett entering the room Rosalie recently vacated, Charlie, staring after her with trepidation.

Edward tightened his spine, adjusted his hat firmly, and let his feet carry him into the observation room with Charlie and Archie. He'd agreed only after Archie and Charlie had begged, both of them wanting the reassurance that he'd help calm them if they couldn't handle it.

He was determined to do his best, even if that did mean forcing himself to listen to what would likely be one of the hardest, most gut-wrenching conversations he'd ever have to hear.