Page 16 of Depraved Truths

The next day, I tried to tell my parents what had happened—what William had done to me—but they didn’t believe me. They stared at me in horror, insisting it must have been a dream, telling me I shouldn’t read such disturbing books.

That night changed everything. I was silenced and told never to speak of it again. They couldn’t risk a scandal—couldn’t let anything stain their perfect image or ruin their impeccable relationships.

A month later, I was shipped off to summer camp in Lake Falls. It was there I met Allie. She welcomed me with open arms, helping me break free of my shell, even if only for a little while. One night, she found me crying in bed, and I opened up about what had happened. She believed me and promised to keep my secret safe.

I learned how to be self-sufficient, gaining new skills with each passing summer: fire-making, fishing, and archery. By the end of my last summer there, I was ready for the next chapter in my life.

The summer I turned eighteen, I packed up my things, leaving my parents behind to start over. I haven’t had any contact with them since, not even when my mom has occasionally tried to reach out. I won’t let anyone hurt me like that again. And I’ll protect those who’ve suffered as I have.

Chapter 15

Afew days later, as I’m leaving work, my phone vibrates with a text from Bryce telling me to check my email. Bryce has some unique skills that are beyond anything I’ve ever learned, and while he’s been involved in some nefarious shit, my friend wouldn’t hurt a soul. He’s careful with my secrets, just as I am with his. We don’t judge each other. He’s been digging deeper into Candice Smith’s life, and I’ve been eager to hear from him.

I open the email on my phone while getting into my car.

“Son of a bitch,” I mutter under my breath, my voice low, full of frustration.

I know his number by heart, so I grab my burner phone from the console and dial him.

He answers immediately. “I knew you wouldn’t be pleased with what I found.”

“That’s putting it mildly. A sexual predator and drug addict moved into their home weeks ago, and nobody’s raised an eyebrow?” My frustration over the lack of follow up with this case seriously makes me want to throw my fucking phone.

“We need to move faster. I’ll contact you as soon as I have a plan.”

“Okay, talk to you soon,” Bryce says, ending the call. I toss my burner back into the console.

Shifting into drive, I punch the gas and speed out of the parking lot.

The following morning, I hack into the Lake Falls Elementary School records and confirm that Ansley’s at school. She doesn’t need to see what’s about to happen. I throw on black jeans, a tank top, and grab a hoodie as I walk out the door.

I pull into the parking lot of the local dollar store, a few blocks from Candice’s apartment. Once inside, I grab a cart and begin shopping. There’s a working security camera at the front of the store but none in the back. I throw some paper towels and dish detergent into the cart, pushing it to the corner of the building. Only two employees are working: one at the register, the other assisting a customer. I discreetly check if anyone’s watching before slipping into the back room, bypassing the restrooms, and exiting through the rear door. With my hoodie pulled up, I walk toward the apartment.

The apartment building is in a dilapidated state that suggests minimal upkeep, just enough to meet basic state regulations. Several months ago, a gang shooting destroyed the security cameras, and they’ve never been repaired. Candice usually has a john or two around this time of day. Her neighbors are well aware of her activities and tend to avoid her. It’s no secret she’sslept with most of the married men in the apartment complex, gaining more than a few enemies. Her housemate, a registered sex offender, is fulfilling his weekly obligations with his parole officer and attending court-mandated classes.

I make it to her apartment door without encountering anyone along the way, and I fish out a pair of latex gloves. Trying the handle, I roll my eyes when I find it unlocked. This is almost too easy.

Stepping inside, I close the door gently behind me. The mess in the living room is immediately apparent—beer bottles and drug paraphernalia scattered across the coffee table, two lines of coke neatly cut and waiting on the glass end table, needles discarded on the floor. Aside from a worn teddy bear slouched on the couch, there’s nothing in the room that indicates a child lives here, my stomach churns in disgust. I have to save Ansley from this situation.

“Jim, is that you?” a female voice slurs from the bedroom. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Jim is one of her regulars, but he won’t be making it today. He’s been otherwise held up. An anonymous call to his probation officer prompted a drug screen, which he failed, and he’ll be spending a few weeks in county lock-up.

A tiny waif of a woman stumbles out of the bedroom looking at least two decades older than her thirty-one years. Her stringy red hair falls around her shoulders, and she wears a cheap negligee that leaves little to the imagination. The glaze in her eyes is heavy, and her arms bear the marks of repeated injections.

She stops short when she sees me. “Who the hell are you?”

“Your worst nightmare,” I sneer, pulling my Glock from its holster and aiming it straight at her. “Now, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to be very quiet and do what I say.”

“Or what?” she challenges, though her fearful, uncertain eyes betray her bravado. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Sit down. We have some things to discuss.”

“Who are you?” She stumbles back, her legs bumping into the couch, and she sinks down onto it. “You a cop? Another do-gooder DCFS worker? What’s Ansley saying now? She’s a little lying bitch.”

I tilt my head as I stare down at her. “You know that’s not true.”

“Just look at the condition you’ve let her live in. She goes to school with dirty clothes and unwashed hair. Her behavior has been off lately, don’t you think?” I glare at her, my eyes burning with hatred. “I wonder if it has something to do with the pedophile you moved in here. Have you been leaving her alone with him? Did she tell you he was hurting her? Did you let him touch her?”

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