12
Bella stared at her father, unable to believe the words he had just spoken.
Lauren Mallory was alive.
Phillip Dwyer had left her alive.
Why? That's what she wanted to know. Why did he leave that girl alive when he killed his previous victims without thought? Bella needed to understand why because figuring out the whys would be the only way to stop him.
"Bee."
"We should hurry," she mumbled, yanking the bag off the floor and hurrying out of his office.
Everyone turned and looked at her as she rushed into the restroom, letting the door close behind her with a loud, echoing thud. Bella inhaled a shaky breath through her nose, exhaling slowly from her mouth in an effort to keep from losing control — again. Weakness wasn't a luxury she could afford at the moment. The only person who seemed to care how much she struggled being back was Edward.
"Bee," Rosalie called before pushing the door.
Bella moved out of the way, dropping the bag on the counter as the door opened. She shifted her eyes through the mirror to the tall, leggy blond.
"Wow, you're really fucked up, aren't you?" Rosalie asked.
"Yep." Bella unzipped the bag and pulled out the neatly folded black slacks and white dress shirt, placing them on top before she began removing her leggings. "I expected better from you, Ro. The others treating Masen like shit; that's to be expected because they're a bunch of dicks, but you? I am honestly disappointed."
She shoved the gray leggings into her bag before grabbing the slacks and looking at Rosalie before putting them on. "You and I had to prove ourselves so many times. Prove we were more than perky tits and tight vaginas. Especially at the academy. How many times did I pin Royce King to the mats because he tried to palm your ass."
"Twelve. And when he asked if you and I were lesbians, and we said yes, he asked if we would have a threesome with him. We said no dick could be that good, and then he tried to kiss you. He walked . . . well, limped away with a broken nose and two cracked ribs. Dropped out the next day. Heard he's working security at a mall somewhere in upstate New York."
Bella rolled her eyes. "Dude was an idiot."
"I've tried watching out for him. Masen, I mean. I've tried, Bee, but you kind of left me alone with the boys."
She tilted her head to the side. "Not like they won't listen to you, Ro. Especially McCarty."
"Shut up," she mumbled, her cheeks turning red. "I slept with him once, Bee. That doesn't make us a thing."
"Once," she snorted.
"It was once!"
"Okay, if you say so." Bella shrugged her hoodie off, hearing Rosalie inhale a deep breath. When she looked back at her, she saw her staring at the scar on her back. "You act like you've never seen it before."
"Almost forgot about it."
She nodded, thinking about Laurent Masters, the man who had kidnapped and killed four young boys after school. The first was found in the middle of a field three days after they went missing. He was bruised and battered, naked from the waist down, and had been sexually assaulted. Four days later, the second boy was found. Just like the first, he was naked, bruised and battered, etc. Almost another week passed when the third boy was found. Unlike the first two, he was found floating in a pond. He was fully dressed but had also been sexually assaulted. Bella and Rosalie had caught a tip, leading them to an old farm just outside of Amarillo, Texas, where they found Laurent and the last of the boys. There had been a shootout, and Bella took a round in the shoulder.
That was the night Garrett started pushing her to walk away from the FBI.
"Lucky you," Bella quipped, pulling on her white button-up. She started buttoning it up as she turned to face her again. "You failed him, Ro. You and the boys. You knew better than to let him come after me. He could have died on the side of the road, and it would have been on all your heads."
Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic."
Bella shook her head. "Dramatic? I wasn't ready to come back."
"Then why did you?" she asked.
"Someone had to bring Masen back."
Rosalie grinned. "But why did you stay? And why do you insist on working with him?"
"He needs to be taught."
She scoffed. "Taught?"
Bella nodded.
"He's pretty smart."
"He is," she admitted.
"And he ain't too bad on the eyes, either."
Bella rolled her eyes.
"I'm just saying. I'd hit that."
"Well, you did have sex with McCarty, so . . ." Bella finished attaching her holster to her belt and placed her weapon inside. "All I'm saying is Masen deserves better than being treated like a noob."
"He is a noob!"
"And? We were noobs once, too, Ro, but they didn't withhold evidence from us when we were saddled with scut work."
"Because we fought back. He needs to get his thumbs out of his ass, Bee, and demand it. Just like you and I did."
Bella almost smiled, thinking of the way she and Rosalie had fought against the hazing. "He's too naïve to fight back. You've got to nudge him along a little."
"That's your job now. You decided to take him on as a partner, after all."
"We are not partners!" Bella exclaimed. "I'm just trying to train him."
"Whatever you say, Bee. But in all the years I've known you, I've never seen you take to someone like you have him." Rosalie stepped backward and grabbed the door handle. "Not even Garrett."
And before Bella could argue, Rosalie turned and walked out.
—^—
Once Bella was finished, she stuffed her hoodie into the bag and headed out to find everyone gathered around the elevator. While Carlisle, Jasper, and Emmett stood on one side with Rosalie and Charlie, Edward was on the other. Clearly, the two sides were making a statement, choosing teams, so to speak. Bella thought it was ridiculous, of course. Their only focus should be stopping Phillip Dwyer from killing another girl.
"Let's go, Masen." Bella stopped next to the stairs. "We'll meet them there."
"Yeah, okay."
Edward pushed away from the wall and followed her into the stairwell. The door closed behind them, and she felt him place his hand on her shoulder.
"I told you not to touch me," she murmured, shrugging his touch off.
"Sorry."
"He makes me so angry, so fucking angry, and then acts like I'm the unreasonable one. Like I was behaving like a petulant toddler throwing a temper tantrum because he wouldn't let me have a sucker. My husband was killed. Murdered because I refused to walk away from the job. I failed him, Masen. I failed him," she whimpered, and before she could stop him, Edward placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. "I failed him. I should have been able to save him, to save Heidi, and Chelsea and Gianna. They died because I couldn't stop Dwyer."
"No, they died because Phillip Dwyer is a psychopath, Swan. He is solely responsible for everything he's done. And we're going to stop him. I don't know how, but we're going to figure it out together."
"And if we can't?" she whispered, curling her fingers around the front of his shirt.
"We can. I won't give up until we do."
"I wish I had your optimism."
"Good thing I have enough for both of us." He brought his hand up to the side of her face, wiping her tears away. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. Not Dwyer, and not your father."
"Yeah?"
He nodded.
"I can't figure you out, Masen. You care about me, yet you don't know me. Not the real me."
"I know you better than you think."
"No, you know what my file says, what stats say I am. Those aren't me, not anymore."
"You're stubborn and pigheaded, kind of mean, and you can even be cruel. But that's just because you're terrified you're not good enough to stop Phillip Dwyer. You're angry, not just because you couldn't keep your husband safe, but that the others didn't, either. You love your father, even though right now you hate him for sending me after you. You could have sent me on my way, left me at the airport, but you drove me back to D.C. because you know deep in your heart you need to finish what Dwyer started with you, and I'm going to help you."
"Not bad."
"I aced my profiling courses," Edward said with a smirk.
"And there you go, ruining things again." She laughed and pushed him away. "Look, I know I've been a bitch to you, but I'm doing it so I can toughen you up. You're a good cop, Masen. A damn good one. You're smart, quick to pick up the missing pieces, and you're starting to look at cases from every angle. You're eager to learn, so stop letting my father push you around. He'll respect you more if you keep calling him on his shit. Like you did last night."
Edward cringed. "You heard me on the phone with him?"
"I did. I wasn't going to say anything, but you know, he just going to keep expecting you to babysit me if you don't tell him no and mean it."
"I don't think of it as babysitting. I'm watching out for my partner."
"We are not partners, Masen," she scoffed.
"You say that, yet you still insist on working with me. That makes us partners." Edward gave her a look before he turned and started down the stairs. "Let's go, Swan. We don't have all day."
"Damn noob," she grumbled under her breath, but found herself following.
—^—
When they arrived at Howard University Hospital, they found Charlie waiting for them inside the emergency room with the rest of their team. Emmett and Jasper were processing the area right outside the ambulance bay door where Lauren Mallory had been left to die. The ground was saturated with dark, crimson blood.
They looked at Bella as she and Edward entered. Though neither spoke, she could see the judgement in their eyes. Soon she would have to deal with them, but today wasn't that day. Today, was about Lauren Mallory, she told herself.
When they walked into the emergency room, they found Rosalie, Carlisle, and Charlie standing in the hallway with a tall, thin doctor with thick black hair and dark eyes. The four turned and looked at Edward and then Bella before Charlie cleared his throat and walked toward them. He stopped when they were just a few feet away from the others.
"She's still alive. For now," he added. "But she's not in good shape."
"I want to see her."
"Figured you would. Doc doesn't think she's strong enough for visitors yet."
"I don't care what he thinks. I need to see her," Bella replied, glancing past her father and looking at the doctor. His white jacket had the name Dr. Peter Davis embroidered on the left lapel. Glaring at Charlie first, Bella approached the good doctor. "Give it to me straight. What'd he do to her?"
"It's more like what he didn't do," he quipped. "She's been beaten and raped multiple times from what I can tell. She's not letting any of us close to her, and she's not really speaking, either. Just keeps asking for one person."
"Who? Her boyfriend?"
Peter shook his head. "Not unless her boyfriend's name is Isabella."
Bella felt Rosalie, Carlisle, and Edward shift their eyes to her. "She's asking for Isabella?"
"Do you know who she is?"
Pressing her lips together, Bella simply nodded before she brushed past him and let herself into Lauren Mallory's hospital room, ignoring the doctor calling for her to stop, or the way her team tried to explain exactly who she was.
Leaning against the thick, hardwood door, Bella focused all her attention on the fragile woman in the hospital bed. The lights had been dimmed, but it wasn't hard to see. Bella recalled the pictures she'd seen inside Lauren's case file, with long, brown hair that reached below her waist. Yet, now, her hair was short, choppy. Her eyes were closed, her face swollen and more black and blue than creamy ivory. Her arms were in thick, heavy casts, and her legs were covered with a white sheet that was already stained by blood.
Moving slowly, Bella crossed the room, looking at the monitor flashing her stats. Her heart rate was too high, her pulse ox too low, and blood pressure borderline high. But considering what she'd been through over the last nine days, Bella wouldn't have expected anything different.
She shifted her eyes down to Lauren, finding her looking back with fear-filled eyes.
"Hey, it's okay," Bella said softly.
"You're Isabella," Lauren cried, speaking so softly she could barely hear her. "He said you would come for me, but I didn't believe him."
Bella pulled the rolling stool found in every hospital room over and sat next to the bed. "He did, huh? What else did he tell you?"
Lauren shook her head.
"Do you know where he held you?"
Again, she shook her head. "It was cold. It smelled like . . . like rotten eggs and sulfur. The ground was dirt, and there weren't any windows. It was dark all the time, except when he came down the stairs. When he came down, he always brought a lantern with him. It was an antique. Reminded me of one my grandmother had in her house when I was little."
"He came downstairs? So you were in a basement?"
"No, it didn't feel like a basement. It felt like . . . felt like a factory or something. Lots of iron and pipes. I don't know. I couldn't really focus on anything other than surviving."
"That's fair. Can you tell me what happened the night he kidnapped you?"
Lauren's eyes closed for a minute before she looked at Bella and began to speak. "I'd just left Duffy's Irish Pub after my shift. It was a little after nine, and I had a long night. Rowdy customers, bad tips. I had an early class the next morning, and all I wanted was to go home, take a hot bath, and get some sleep. I was almost to my car when this van pulled up behind me. I screamed, but the driver covered my mouth with a cloth and dragged me inside. I passed out, and when I woke up I was . . . I was chained to a wooden chair covered with iron spikes. He'd taped my mouth closed, but I screamed. I don't know how long I had been screaming when I heard the sound of a door opening, and he came down the stairs. I'd seen him that evening. He was the only customer who had tipped me."
"Tell me what he looked like."
Lauren's eyes closed once more, and her head lobbed in the opposite direction. "He was tall and muscular. I've never liked guys like that. My father has a lot of muscles," she whimpered before looking at Bella. "His eyes were kind when I was serving him in the pub, but when he came downstairs, they were hard and cruel with a darkness I've never seen before. Never. And, um, he had dark hair that was cut really short, almost buzzed. When he removed his shirt, I saw. . . He has a tattoo."
"What did it look like?"
"You. It was a portrait of you."
"Me?"
She barely nodded. "Had your name, Isabella Maria Swan, over it and the date, September 13 under it."
"The thirteenth?" she asked, barely able to keep her voice from wavering. "Are you sure it was the thirteenth of September?"
"Yes, I focused on it every time he . . . Well, I focused on it a lot."
Understanding, Bella nodded.
"He also left you another message."
"What was that?"
"Pull the blanket down, my gown upward."
"What? Why?" she asked, but gently wrapped her fingers around the top of the white sheet and slipped it down her torso to her knees.
Her legs had been sliced dozens of times each, a mixture of knife and whip wounds if she had to guess. Shifting her eyes up to Lauren, she grabbed the bottom of her hospital gown and pushed it up her torso, feeling her mouth flop open, as she barely managed to keep from screaming.
Phillip Dwyer had removed parts of her breasts, and it looked like he'd sewn the wounds up himself. They were infected, she could tell. There was puss seeping out, and they were red and angry-looking. But what drew her attention, what horrified her more were the wounds that had been branded into her stomach.
"J.A.S. Soon, my love. Soon."
Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews! Big shout out to Sunflower Fran for being an amazing beta and friend. See you next Monday!