Slut - Woodruff Jettie (полные книги .TXT) 📗

Nick sucked from a straw, eyes cautiously watching me sit in front of him. “Of course I could, but I won’t. It’s against company policy. Besides; it wouldn’t hold up in court anyway.”

“I don’t care about that. I have to know if I hurt her.”

“Lane says you didn’t. I believe him.”

My fingers laced together as I placed them on his desk, hoping the added prayer gesture showed my desperation. “Please. I’ll pay you,” I said while promising money I didn’t even have.

“I’m not going to hypnotize you. Now tell me your earliest memory.”

A deep breath entered my lungs as my body collapsed to the back of the overstuffed chair. My arms crossed and I sank. Inside myself, not the seat. “It doesn’t even matter,” I said with defeated words. “I’d rather go to prison than live without my girls, not knowing whether or not I hurt my sister. I don’t see much point. Do you?”

“Look—”

My posture stiffened again when I went in for round two, cutting him off before he had a chance to explain. “I don’t want to look. Just one time. Please. Will you just try it? One time. That’s all I’m asking.”

“No way. Lane would have my ass. I’m not going to hypnotize you. A brain injury is a lot different than a mental illness.”

Round three. “So is a diseased mind. You helped that man. I just need to know about that night. Please, Nick. It’s not like it’s against the law.” I wasn’t exactly sure that was the truth. That’s how it worked on television, anyway. I tossed his name in there for a little added personable desperation.

Nick dropped his half-eaten sandwich and scratched his head. Paxton did that, too. Weakness invaded the space around him, and like a hungry wolf, I sensed it. Victory to Gabriella. Total knockout.

“Forget it. I’m going to ask you some questions, and you just need to answer them as best you can. There’s no wrong answers.”

My lungs depleted with my body while a hopeless feeling washed over me. He didn’t understand, nobody did. I knew that if he would do it one time, just the day of the accident, that’s all I needed.

“Gabriella?”

I studied Nick for a moment, ignoring his stupid question. Something about me preferring a kitten or a cat. Something familiar washed over me, but I wasn’t sure what it was.

“Do we know each other?” I asked out of the blue, sensing that we did.

His eyes darted to his desk, quickly leaving mine, and I knew we did. More so than what he said. “I’ve seen you around. Cat or kitten?”

“Seen me around where?”

“I don’t know, just around. Would you rather have a cat or a kitten?”

I didn’t let up. Nick was also hiding something. Intuition, his toe-stepping, and the way he’d suddenly become self-conscious of our meeting, was a dead giveaway. I was right. “Around where?”

“Will you just answer the questions? I’ve got a paying client to get to.”

I crossed my arms and looked at him cautiously. “You just gave me another piece of this screwed up puzzle I’ve been working on. I’ll find out where it fits.”

“Is that some sort of threat?”

One shoulder shrugged as I cockily replied with a question. “Is it?”

Two

At least my hotel was nice. Lane dropped me off at the front door with a hundred dollar bill. For a brief second, I recalled the last time I’d been dropped off in front of a hotel and handed money. I was with Izzy, my mom was drugged out of her mind, and a little bit of both our personalities had been taken away from us.

“Gabby?”

The zoning on my past was interrupted by Lane’s quiet words, and a soft touch to my arm. I moved my arm from the contact and blinked away the image of two broken little girls. “Huh?”

“This is all going to work out, but you need to think about what you’re going to do.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not going to let you go. He’s going to want you back.”

“No he won’t. He thinks I’m Izzy.”

“You are,” Lane said in a flat tone, sarcasm noted while reminding me what I already knew. “I better not come up. Go to Target and get yourself something to wear. I’ll call your room later if I get a chance.”

A young couple walked past me, laughing and holding hands, pulling my attention from the crisp money, new like it had just come off the press. I turned to the joyful noise, feeling disorderly, and tired. Nostalgia fell upon me when a mom, holding a little girls hand, followed behind the couple in love.

“You don’t have to call. Thanks for your help,” I said gratefully. I was grateful. I’m not sure what I would have done without Lane, but the truth is everyone I talked to knew something I didn’t. Everyone.

“You’re welcome. Don’t worry, Gabby. It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

I held the door handle and turned to Lane with a tilt of my head. “Why do you have Candace’s car?” I don’t know why I asked that. No clue. I should have been asking what the hell he was to me. Instead I questioned his motives for driving his wife’s car.

“Oil change. The garage across from my office. You’re in ninety-four. That’s all you have to say,” he said, eyes hooded by crooked brows.

“Oh, well thank you again. I’ll repay you.”

A hint of irritation pervaded his voice when he answered. “I’m not worried about the money, Gabby.”

I opened the door, rejecting the urge to say anymore. Ninety-four, that’s all I had to say. That was instantly peculiar to me, but I didn’t know why. Everyone was suspicious, and I didn’t trust anyone. Not even Lane. I walked away without turning back to him, nodding at a lady who smiled at me.

As much as I wanted to go right to my hotel room, shower, and crash, I didn’t. Not only did I need something clean to put on afterward, I needed food. Real food with actual nutrition. Candace’s car took a right at the light and I watched it disappear, thinking about Rowan and Phi, what they were thinking, and what Paxton told them. Surely he wouldn’t tell them I wasn’t their mom. Would he? Or that I was in jail. I would kill him if he told them that.

A deep breath of muggy air filled my lungs and then depleted. My shoulders dropped with the exhale while I wondered about my fate. My gigantic attorney assured me that he didn’t have a case. At one point he had even called Paxton a coward, saying he was the crazy one. Still yet, where did that leave me? Paxton had a motive. That much was a given.

“Excuse me, can you tell me where the Target store is?” I asked an older man wearing a suit and tie. He had to be roasting from the heat. August in Florida wasn’t the place for that attire, not outside anyway. The guy didn’t even look at me, he told me it was right around the corner with a quick glance up from his phone, and a point.

Once I rounded the corner where Lane had gone, I felt silly. The store was right there on the corner, but it didn’t look familiar to me at all. I didn’t feel like I shopped there.

Walking through the department store felt strange. I could have sworn the people around me were staring, like they knew I was an imposter. It was silly. It wasn’t like I was on the six o’clock news or anything, but nonetheless, I had that feeling.

I bought three pair of panties, purposely defying Paxton’s rule for thongs. Cotton briefs with little pink bows, two pair of shorts from the clearance rack, a few needed toiletries, a couple t-shirts, and a pack of boy boxer shorts to sleep in. The thought to buy a prepaid phone crossed my mind, but I didn’t know how long I needed my hundred dollars to last. I used it sparingly, not even using it for food. I bought a salad from the deli, and a bottle of water. Eating out was the furthest thing from my mind. A shower to wash the stench of the jail from my body was all I desired at that moment.

Walking back to the hotel, I wondered whose name Lane put the room in. I’d forgotten to ask and he never told me. Great.

“Excuse me,” I said, fingers armed over the shiny bell.