Page 49 of Marked

“That’s fine. Thank you.” She leads us to the stairs, and I nod my head for Zack to follow her.

Once we’re back in the living room, I sit on the couch, Zack next to me while Mom takes the recliner facing us. Shefidgets with her hands. We must have really unsettled her by going into Quinn’s room.

“I saw Special Agent Laurens yesterday,” I blurt out before I can find a tactful way of saying it. But since she’s already on edge, might as well get it over with.

Now that memories are coming back, I could use her help to sort them in the right order. Zack also wants to be sure she’s protected.

If Special Agent Laurens is as dirty as we think she is, Mom could be in danger, too.

“Why would you see her?” The question drops like a bowling ball between us, but she recovers quickly and pushes on a gentle smile. “I’m sorry. It’s just I thought she stopped working on the case.”

“Well.” I take deep breath. “I remembered something, Mom. A name. Actually a few things, really, but the name came first.” I squeeze my knees. “Artie Anderson. And another name, Vince.”

Her jaw clenches, but it’s so faint, I’m not really sure I saw it.

“Artie Anderson?” She shakes her head. “I don’t remember anyone by that name.”

“He’s the one who held us in the…” I stop. Fuck this is hard. And I know I’m cutting into a barely healed wound for her. “He was the one who held us wherever we were held.”

“They never figured out where we were kept, Harley,” she reminds me. We weren’t found by the police. We’d been dumped at our local hospital, unconscious. Quinn’s body was dumped, too. It’d been washed completely of any traces of any evidence. Not a shred of evidence on any of us was found.

“I know, but I remember. It was dark, I remember that. And you weren’t with us for most of the time. I remembered that, too.” I start talking fast, now, as the memories start to uncover themselves. “And there was a lot of metal-on-metal sounds. I thought it was just the door, but I think maybe therewere cars around us? Oil? Maybe gasoline? Something like that I remember smelling.”

I take a breath. It’s all starting to get clearer.

“Harley,” my mom whispers my name.

I hadn’t realized I stood up. I’m standing over her.

Slowly, I sink back onto the couch. Zack puts his hand on my knee. A comforting touch that grounds me.

“You told Special Agent Laurens all of this?” She asks softly, like she’s worried.

“No, just the name. Everything else started coming after I spoke with her.” I force my shoulders to relax. “I know it’s hard, and with the…I’m sorry, Mom.”

Zack squeezes my knee.

“It’s really hard, I’m sure for both of you,” Zack says quietly, drawing her out as she tries to fold into herself.

“You’re not trying to find him, are you?” She asks me, leaning forward. “You can’t go poking around this, Harley. It’s not safe. Honey, I don’t want anything to happen to you.” She swallows. “You’re all I have left. I can’t lose you too.” Her voice cracks with her worry.

“Why isn’t it safe?” I ask. “Do you remember that name? Or what Vince looked like? Do you?”

She shakes her head. “Please.” Jumping up from the recliner she paces the room. “Harley. We can’t do this. Honey, we have to move on. We have to accept what happened, and just move on.”

“But don’t you want them to pay for it?” I push. “I mean, they made you–” my words cut short when her eyes snap to me. Fear trembles her.

“Please, promise me you’ll let this go. Don’t go poking.” She glares down at me, and I haven’t seen her this angry since the night I snuck back into the house after sneaking out in high school through Quinn’s bedroom window.

“All right, Mom.” I get up from the couch and make my way to her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up, I’msorry.” I haven’t just scratched a wound, I think I’ve made a new one. “I’m sorry, Mom,” I whisper.

Her bottom lip trembles.

“I’m not sure the memories coming back are a good thing, Harley. It’s a lot to remember, to sort through. It’s going to be like going through it all over again.”

She’s not wrong, but at least the fog will be gone. I will at least see the demons I’ve been fighting.

“Promise me you’ll stop.” Her hands are cold when she grabs mine. “Please, honey. I don’t want you to go through all that again.”

---