There was a tiny bathroom adjoined to my bedroom. The shower was barely wide enough for me to fit, but it had always been only mine. I moved into the space. I gingerly peeled off my top, biting my lip to keep from crying out. My pants and undergarments followed.
I turned the spray to lukewarm and stepped in, pulling the curtain. I sucked in a sharp breath as the water hit my wound. I stared down as the blood and debris were washed away. The cut was deep—not deep enough to have hit something vital but deep enough that it needed stitches.
I cleaned myself the best I could and then pulled back the curtain to peek into the bathroom. Cybil had left a towel, an old pair of sweatpants, and a t-shirt of mine. I dried off and then lumbered through getting dressed. Each movement killed, the pain ricocheting through my body.
“Hurry up. I have other things to do today than tend to you,” Cybil called.
I bit back a retort and pushed open the door. I held up my t-shirt so that it wouldn’t get blood on it.
Cybil frowned as she studied my wound. “You need stitching.”
“I know.” I lowered myself to the bed and lay back on the pillows. The mattress felt like stone compared to the one I’d slept on with Beckett. I let my eyes close for a moment and imagined the feel of having him wrapped around me. He would come here. He would get Hayes, and this would be the first place they’d look. He’d find me.
The mattress dipped
as Cybil sat. “You’ve put your father through hell.”
“Seems fair since he did the same to me.”
“He cared for you. Gave you discipline when you needed it.”
“That wasn’t discipline. That was torture.”
Cybil scowled at me. “I’m not wasting our painkillers on you. You’ll have to do without.”
She poured alcohol onto my skin, and I screamed. She pressed gauze to the wound. “Hold still or I won’t be able to close this properly.”
The world tilted again, everything going fuzzy. The needle pierced my skin, and as the thread pulled tautly, blessed darkness descended.
44
BECKETT
“They’ve got her, Beck.” Hayes’ hands gripped my shoulders as two EMTs loaded Cora onto a backboard.
I didn’t want to let go. Cora had lost consciousness again, but she was my one link to Addie.
“I need you to tell me what happened,” he said calmly.
That jerked me out of my haze. I scrambled to my feet. “We have to go. It’s Brandon. Brandon has her.”
Hayes’ eyes narrowed. “How do you know?”
“Cora told me right before she passed out again.”
Hayes pulled out his radio and sent in an APB. Officers swarmed in and around the house and the two sets of EMTs. Hadley came through the door, worry lining her face. “Jack is fine. Throat’s raw from crying but otherwise uninjured.”
“Good. That’s good,” I mumbled as Hayes gave the dispatcher more information. He frowned as they told him something back. I moved in closer. “What?”
“They found Brandon’s truck.”
“Where?” I barked.
“A bar outside of town. Owner reported it to be towed. Apparently, it’s been there for two days.”
“So, he has another vehicle.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “One we won’t be able to track.”
Hadley grabbed hold of my shoulders and steered me towards the front door, motioning for Hayes to follow. “Or he’s on foot. Horseback, maybe? An ATV?”