Page 185 of Black Bird

Athan wrapped her in one of the blankets, laying her down long enough to put on his jacket and grab her things. “She’ll need that time to get herself adjusted. Call me with all the updates. And Nick?” Athan faced him, pointing in his face. “She sacrificedeverythingto do this. You fuck her over—”

“I won’t do any such thing. Anybody that can go through what she just did has my full respect. I need to go home and at least get a couple hours of sleep, man. Let me put my wife’s flames of wrath out and get my head on straight. When I’m done … I’ll do what you want me to do.”

Athan nodded once and scooped Sarah into his arms. Nick followed him down to the entrance and helped him get her into the car. They paused, facing each other at his driver’s side door. “Look … I—” Athan started, not at all understanding why the fuck he could possibly feel sorry for the way they handled the situation. “Nick, you were right. You’re apiece of shit, and part of me still wants to make you suffer. A very big part. But … you were right, and I understand what you meant. If she’d died tonight, and the turning didn’t work … I dunno what I would have done without her. I’m not used to feelinganything… let alone feeling this much for one person. I’m sorry.”

Nick shoved his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. “It’s fun being in love, isn’t it?” He smiled, “You were right, too. I was a selfish coward. No matter how much I wish I could excuse what I did. It doesn’t make it right, and she didn’t deserve any of this. I’m sorry for my part. Truly.”

Athan reached a hand toward him, and Nick winced at first, but eyed him carefully as he took it and gently shook. It brought a slight smirk to Athan’s mouth. “Thank you … for helping us.” Nick flashed a lazy smile.

“Get her somewhere safe, detective. I can find my own way home. Call you in two days.”

Athan dipped his chin and slid into the driver’s seat, starting the car, and making sure Nick went back inside. He wondered for a moment if he was putting too much trust in the guy, but at this point Nick had to know they were serious. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to try to screw them over another time. Sarah shifted in the seat beside him, resting her head against the console. He brushed her hair back, stroking her face. His eyes barely left her the entire way back to his apartment.

CHAPTER 33

AWAKENING

He’d spent almost two hours sitting with his mother’s body. They let him. No one even attempted to come near the door to her room until he’d opened it. For once in his life, he was grateful to have been alone. He’d been showing way too much vulnerability lately. Even if no one had seen how much he’d wept after she passed, the evidence was still very clearly stamped on his face. Brent made sure to confirm that the news of her death wouldn’t leave the facility until he gave them that authority. He would need a couple of days to make arrangements for her. He’d need a couple days to sort out whether or not he’d even tell his father. In some ways, it seemed unfair not to, but in others …

Brent didn’t have a good answer as to why he’d found himself parked outside Wren’s darkened apartment. The coffee shop beneath it was bustling … as if no one had any idea of what had happened to the girl that lived upstairs. He gripped his steering wheel and stared at one of the windows, where the blinds looked to have been broken in a couple of places. He supposed he just needed someone to talk to. Or maybe he just needed someone to listen. It was odd—even to him—how he suddenly wished he could hear Wren say something hurtful, just so he’d know she was alive. The deepest pit of his stomach turned to lead, heavy with the thought of his suspicion. If he was right, then there was no way Brent wouldn’t kill his father for hurting that girl. If Conrad had gone that length to get to Sarah … he’d already surpassed the limits of the evil he was capable of in Brent’s opinion.

“She’s gone, Wren …” Brent muttered, staring forward blankly. “If he took you …” His head shook slowly, and he lowered it to rest against the wheel. Brent loosed a deep sigh and closed his eyes. “It was all for nothing. All of this.” The pang of emotion began to scratch the surface again and his eyes prickled in the corners. “All this suffering, and she died anyway.”

In all actuality, he figured no one had suffered as much as his mother. In that regard, only Annie could understand. But Sarah’s suffering had been just as ruthless. Even without him being the one who’d taken her from the world … he had been a key player in the game of breaking her. Wren had always seen right through him. The only one, it seemed, that had ever had any clarity, and the only one who had big enough balls to call him out on it. Why did he miss her? Why did it seem like finding out she had been taken was a harder blow than when Sarah had given him back his engagement ring?

“I’m so sorry.” Brent curled his arms over the steering wheel and wept again as the rain started back up and battered his windshield.

Wren woke up with her hands tied tightly behind her back. Her head was fuzzy, and throbbed relentlessly as she opened her one good eye. She remembered a woman she’d seen multiple times with Conrad coming down and saying absolutely nothing as she smashed a cloth over her bleeding nose and mouth while Wren had still been turned over in the chair. That was the last thing she remembered. She must have moved her to this nasty mattress. Her hair stuck to it as she tried to lift the side of her head. It was stiff with dried blood. How long had she been out? What day was it? When was the last time she pissed? Her bladder throbbed in time with her head as Wren struggled, but finally sat herself up, and leaned against the concrete wall, raising her knees to her chest.

Her lip was swollen. She couldn’t feel her eyelid, even when she’d tried to move it. The soreness of looking around beneath it just made the headache worse. She couldn’t think of a worse way to die, although there were several. Dying in the basement of a deranged senator seemed comically fitting to her life, though. Whywouldn’tit be this way? The creak of a door sounded above her, and Wren pressed herself against the wall. The sounds of heels clicking against the wooden steps told her it wouldn’t be Conrad she saw. She silently prayed it wouldn’t be the woman Athan had mentioned from that club. That was all she needed. Wren tensed, settling only when she saw the woman from earlier, carrying a tray of food, and what looked like a hot cup of coffee. She nearly cried at the sight of it.

“How long have you been awake?” the woman asked, pausing at the foot of the stairs.

“I know you,” Wren said hoarsely. “You’re his assistant. Gretel? Grace?”

“Close … Gretchen.” She smirked, glancing up the stairs briefly before coming closer. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I didn’t figure you’d rather have him gag you, or worse. Can we meet on some middle ground here? Maybe bite your tongue, and eat instead?”

Wren scoffed. It hurt to smile. “Lady, middle ground would be you sitting here tied up next to me. How does he expect me to act, exactly?”

Gretchen closed the space between them, and Wren flinched, moving her knees away when she knelt in front of her. “Listen,” she whispered, cautiously looking back at the stairs. “I’m not doing any of this because I want to, or because I’m in on this with him. I don’t have a choice, okay? If I can get us both out of this alive, then it’ll be a miracle in itself. It would be a lot easier if you workwithme, and notagainstme.”

“Ah …” Wren nodded, smirking. “He’s got something on you, huh? Figures. What’d you do? Bang some underpaid intern on a security camera?”

Gretchen lowered her brows in annoyance. “No, worse. I stole money from the campaign last election, and he caught me. Then I had tosleep with him so he wouldn’t throw me in jail.That… was recorded for liability, yes. As well as an obvious affair, stamped all over national news for the whole world to see … including his dyingwife.” Wren raised a brow at that one. “So yes, he’s got something on me. If I play by his rules, he destroys the evidence, and my name isn’t caked in mud … I also stay out of prison.”

“Kinky …” Wren bit, turning her face away. “I need to pee.”

Gretchen sat the tray down on the dirty floor and walked over to the space underneath the stairs. Wren watched her carefully and scooted herself closer to the tray. Her legs and ankles were free. Her mind teetered on whether or not she should trust this woman or keep her dignity and fight. Gretchen dug out a large plastic bucket and turned back around to place it at the foot of the mattress. “That’s the best I can do, I’m sorry.”

“How am I supposed to eat anything, or take a piss with my hands tied behind my back?”

“I’m not allowed to untie you, Vintorri.” Gretchen stepped closer to the tray. “I can help? Or if you’d rather me not touch you, then you can try to eat the oatmeal like a dog. I dunno.”

Well…that was an easy decision. Fuck her.

“You can’t be serious,” Wren spat, staring up at her. Gretchen lifted a shoulder and knelt back down in front of the tray. Without a second thought, Wren kicked the mug as hard as she could, and Gretchen cursed loudly as the coffee splattered the entire front of her blouse.

“God! You fuckingbitch!” The last word was a backhand to Wren’s already battered face. “You’re on your own, whore. Now you can eat it off the floor. Piss yourself, I don’t give a shit. Next time you can deal withhim.” Gretchen stormed back up the stairs and slammed the door, leaving Wren to figure out her next move—after she stopped seeing fucking stars.

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