His family life would always work against him. Always make people judge—make them believe he was capable of atrocities because that was what he was born into.
“I think you should figure that out for yourself.” I nudged my chin at the door. “Now, if you don’t mind. I really must—”
“People change, Miss Moss.” The woman once again cut me off. “What you think you know about your high-school fling might be hiding the truth staring right in your face.”
I grimaced. “What exactly are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything. I’m just saying be careful.” For once, her eyes softened with kindness rather than condemning me with accusation. “Monsters walk amongst us. They wear the same skin. They just hide who they are. Almost like the paint that’s hiding you.”
She paused as if her speech was all I needed to confess everything.
I sniffed and waited out the silence.
“Okay, then.” The two officers moved toward the exit.
The male nodded and stepped into the hallway while the female paused and passed me her card again. “If you happen to recall the correct license plate or want to change your statement, call me.”
I took her card and shoved it deep into my robe’s pocket. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” With a smile I couldn’t decipher, she added, “I wouldn’t trust him, Miss Moss. A man who earns money by turning others into a chameleon might also be a chameleon himself. Three girls have lost their lives. Don’t lose yours, too.”
Chapter Thirty-One
______________________________
Gil
-The Past-
I’D BEEN LIVING in hell.
The past two days had torn out my heart and made me beg for a solution.
The breakup at school was meant to be fake, but somehow, it had become entirely too real. I needed to take it back. To explain. But the more time that passed, the more horrendously true it became.
“You’re never to speak to Olin again.”
Ms Tallup’s threat repeated incessantly in my brain.
That ultimatum was harder to swallow than knowing what she wanted from me. It made my stomach churn with corrosive acid; nervous anxiety wrapped a noose around my throat.
I had to talk to Olin.
I had to see her, touch her, love her.
If I couldn’t have Olin...shit, life wasn’t worth the pain it cost to live.
Despite Tallup’s threat, I’d stumbled over to Olin’s the moment I’d left school on Friday. I’d stood on her stoop with tears in my eyes and a broken fucking heart in my hands, trying to get up the guts to ring her doorbell and apologise.
To tell her everything.
To beg her to help me.
But she wasn’t home.
For the first time in a very time, I was alone and unwanted.
Not entirely true.
I was wanted.
Just by the devil in female clothing.
I’d lingered outside Olin’s place until hunger drove me away. I didn’t know who she’d turned to thanks to my betrayal, but I only hoped she was warm and safe.
Just knowing her future hung in the balance because of me and my actions forced my feet to carry me back to the hovel I was born in and tumble into a dirty bed.
That night, my dad beat me brutally—thanks to one of his bourbon-induced rages, and I spent Saturday nursing my wounds. Olin was once again somewhere else when I stumbled to her house in pain.
By Sunday, the bars of my prison had tightened so much, I couldn’t see any alternative.
I needed to talk to Olin desperately.
I couldn’t bear the thought of never sharing a conversation or having her hand touch mine again. I’d always kept my emotions locked away—better to seem heartless than weak—but where Olin was concerned, I was pathetic.
I fought the urge to tear apart the neighbourhood looking for her.
I waited until dusk, sitting on her street like a homeless stray.
I watched the sun creep apologetically over the horizon, leaving me to a fate worse than any death combined.
Olin was avoiding me.
I couldn’t blame her.
She hated everything about me, and I was the only one to blame.
But...it was Sunday.
And Ms Tallup had backed me into an unwinnable corner.
No matter what I did...I was fucked.
Literally.
I could leave school, but that would mean leaving Olin. I could tell the headmaster, but that would mean risking who would be believed. I could tell Olin everything and run away with her, but that would mean her parents—no matter how absentee—would track us down and throw me in jail for kidnapping.
No matter what option I chose, there was always only one conclusion.
Me in prison.
Because of my teacher’s word against mine and the god-awful accusation of assault.
Assault?
She was the one assaulting me.
And I couldn’t tell anyone because who the hell would believe me?
Guys weren’t forcibly taken advantage of.
It was physically so much harder. But I’d felt violated in that storeroom. I’d felt hunted all weekend. And now, as I left Olin’s street and travelled stiffly toward the back entrance of Motel Gardenia, I felt denied of any and all my choices.
Ms Tallup was waiting for me, holding open the fire escape door and ushering me in the second I was in grabbing distance.
We didn’t speak as she clutched my wrist like a runaway schoolboy and dragged me up a level and down a long corridor. Slipping a keycard through a lock on a door, she tugged me inside and slammed it closed.
I exhaled hard as she slid the chain across and drew the curtains closed with a snap. The room already showed signs of use with an overnight bag on the small desk, a grey jacket thrown over the chair, and wrinkled white bed linen as if she’d lain there, picturing what she’d do to me.
The room was gloomy, even with three lights around the space. The carpet was brown, the furniture brown. It reeked of bad decisions and hard situations.
Ms Tallup ran a finger along my back as she bypassed me. She laughed as I leapt out of her way.
“Always so jumpy.” She headed to her bag, rummaging inside. Pulling out handcuffs, ropes, a bottle of lube, and a gag, she turned to me with a grin. “I’m proud of you, Mr. Clark. You came. You chose the right option. And, because of that, I’m assuming you will continue to choose wisely.” Waggling the bondage toys, she added, “These are if you don’t behave. I will have no qualms using them. In fact, it would turn me on to tie you down so perhaps we might play with these, after all.”
I cleared my throat as panic raced through my blood. “I’ll behave.” There was no way I wanted to be restrained. Already the desire to run almost overshadowed my need to protect Olin.
I was willing to run to the police and tell them what happened. I’d risk being charged with assault if it meant I never had to sleep with this psychopath.
But if I was in jail, how the hell would I ever love Olin? How could our future come true? How could she stay mine when I wasn’t there to care and cherish her?
She’ll become someone else’s.
My heart cracked, blood pouring from torn vessels.
Ms Tallup threw the bottle of lube at me. “I brought that, just in case. But honestly, I’m so wet, we won’t need it. Unless we decide to put something in you. Ever experimented with that area of your body, Gilbert?” She cackled. “It could be fun.”