Eric gained his composure. “We’re going to need you to tell us everything you can.”
So she did.
She told them everything except the doctor and the nametag.
That was hers.
He was hers.
Seven
The entire day was spent at the police station. It was hard to squeeze ten years of torture into one conversation and three terrible coffees, but Orion was well versed in hard things.
So, she did it. And she told them everything she knew—the names of the girls in those shallow graves, the ones she knew about, at least.
Even with Maddox’s presence taking up all the air in the room, it was interesting to her how easy it was to recount things after the initial memory surge about her last day with Mary Lou. She’d sank into her dark place. Her cold, unfeeling place. She remembered a lot. That was another cruel twist of fate, the way everything was carved into her mind in great detail. She remembered how many men took turns on her. The masks they wore. Their varying kinks. She knew they were trying to find any information to come up with a list of suspects. And she gave them all she had.
Which she discovered, hearing it all out loud, wasn’t much. She had enough details to make the men pale. But nothing to actually help them. As crude as she had thought the operation was—at the beginning at least—they had safeguards in place.
She understood now why they had two hick lowlifes as their jailers. Because if the worst happened, if someone investigated, if someone escaped, they would be the two casualties, written off as bad seeds too stupid to be the brains of any kind of sophisticated operation. Just lucky, that’s all.
But the other monsters, they wore masks. They never took them off. Never showed things like tattoos or scars. Never slipped—no one except Bob. So nothing Orion said was going to help catch them.
They had gathered all the girls back together in the waiting area. No one was wearing handcuffs or being read their rights, so Orion guessed they weren’t getting charged with the murder of Thing Two. That was probably not the kind of story Clark County wanted hitting the national news.
“Sooo, what now?” Jaclyn asked the second she sat down. Orion knew she had intended to sound carefree, flippant, but there was something in her voice. A crack.
Orion knew it because she felt that same crack rippling at her foundation.
They’d spent so many years plotting, dreaming of escape, that they never really understood how it was just a different kind of nightmare than captivity. There were the questions. The people who you used to know. The parents who were really strangers.
And then there was the reality for Jaclyn and Orion. The abyss.
No family to speak of.
No possessions other than their cheap hoodies and emotional scars.
Had they been declared dead?
Were they really even alive? Was she really a person or just another statistic?
Orion didn’t feel human.
Maddox cleared his throat, jerking his gaze from Orion. She’d been staring at the wall above his head.
“We have you in the hotel for the rest of the week,” he explained. “We will probably have to go over some more statements, and Mr. Del Rio is still evading capture, so we’ll have to keep a close eye on you guys until we catch him. And we’ll have plenty of uniforms looking out for you . . .” He trailed off.
“Then?” Jaclyn demanded. “We get another batch of Walmart clothes, a pat on the back, and it’s see you later, or until the fuck we let get away comes and finishes what he started?” There was anger in her tone. Fury. Hatred. Not at Maddox himself, but since life wasn’t a person, there was no one they could blame, not in this room anyway. So he was as good a target as any.
“There’s already a GoFundMe for you girls,” Eric interjected, his voice calm. He seemed to read the confusion on their faces, and continued, “It’s a new fundraiser thing on the internet where people come together to raise money for a cause,” he explained. “You already have a lot of people who want to help, send you what they can. You’ll be well taken care of. As I said, down the road, the county is going to work on a really nice settlement for you all.”
Orion rolled her eyes and didn’t try to swallow her scoff. “A cause . . .” She didn’t structure it as a question. Didn’t say anything to follow it. Just left the two words hanging there. An accusation. A warning, maybe.
“Your story has resonated with people,” Eric said, careful with his tone, his expression. This man had read what each woman needed. Gentle for Shelby. Not too much eye contact. Slightly submissive, placating to Jaclyn. Strong, sure with Orion.