Page 17 of Loving Trent
Off my rocker.
Checked out.
Completely insane.
Whatever I was there was no stopping me now. While Shawn slept peacefully, his head pressed against my chest, his arms holding me tightly, and his smell surrounding me, I ordered state-of-the-art, undetectable cameras and installed them the very next day. The thought crossed my mind to ask Demon to getme access to Shawn’s cameras at his gym and restaurant. Hell, I even thought about buying the company he used, but changed my mind. Of course, I checked in on Steven Nettle while Shawn was at work and was pleasantly pleased to find that he had left town after our small talk the night at the hospital.
I didn’t want to leave Shawn, but I had to because Demon had found another place, and the need to end Tom became too loud to ignore. The pattern repeated itself. The place was abandoned, the name was a dead end, and then I would return to Cape to check up on Shawn in person. After a few days in his presence, I felt calm enough to focus on what I needed to do before I needed my next hit of his angelic face.
A loud clap of thunder pulls me out of the past, as the rain becomes a sheet, making visibility dangerously low. An audible sigh falls from my lips, but I don’t pull over. I can’t. This has gone on long enough, and I’m tired of getting nowhere. From Demon’s intel, this place was in operation a few days ago, and I hope it still is. Which is why I changed up my approach. Instead of coming at the beginning of the day, I’m sneaking in under the cover of night. It's been eleven months of hard work, and I needed this place to be the key to ending this.
The need to end this, to put my horrid past six feet under and find justice has never felt this unhinged or desperate before. The reason for this change isn’t unknown or something I need to search for, because simply put, I’m fucking tired of watching Shawn from the shadows and through a screen. Time is up, the ropes are frayed, the chains have snapped, and now it’s time to let Shawn know that he is mine.
I’m not sure there is anything that will get me to let him go again.
The turn-off to the small trail head road I need to take would be almost impossible to find during the day, much less at midnight in the rain, so it takes me three times circling back tosee it. I kill my bike and leave it hidden off the side of the one-lane dirt road. I recheck that I have all the supplies I need in case someone is at the camp, and start the five-mile walk into a forest in Ohio on foot. Tonight is all about recon and checking out the tip we got. The others helping me are twenty minutes away, waiting for me to give the signal before they come.
Knowing that all my attention needs to be on the here and now, I push all thoughts of Shawn away. By the time I reach the first building, my clothes are soaked through, including my socks, and a deep coldness has settled into my bones, but nothing is going to stop me now.
The sound of feet crunching over gravel locks all my muscles up. The sound is coming from right in front of me, on the other side of the building. I’m still hidden within the forest’s darkness, right on the edge of the tree line. However, I keep my movements slow and minimal as I reach behind me and slip my Glock 34 out of my waistband. I keep the gun at my side, pointing at the ground, not wanting to scare any child or innocent person. The sound of footsteps stops, and through the sound of the rain hitting the roof of the building, a small cry comes from the dark. I left my helmet on my bike and put on a balaclava before starting my walk, not wanting Tom to see me and take off. Emerging from the shadow, I press my back against the building and approach the sound of someone breaking down.
When I reach the front corner of the building, I peek around quickly, and the sight I see almost makes me fall to my knees. Sitting with their back pressed to the closed door is a girl. It’s hard to tell how young she is, but she is definitely on the small side, so I guess she is barely a teenager. Her legs are hugged to her chest, and her head is against her knees. She is trembling fiercely, either from the rain or her sobs. Stepping back, I placemy gun back in my waistband, pull the balaclava from my face, and pull my phone out.
Me
I’ve got something. Come in the south entrance.
Once the message is sent and said it’s been read, I fully step out of the shadow with my hands raised. “Please don’t be scared. I’m not here to hurt you,” I say, keeping my voice low but loud enough that the girl can hear me over the rain. I continue walking forward when she doesn’t scream or try to run away. Unlike the other two places I’ve visited over the last five months, this one still has electricity. Therefore, when I move closer, the light filtering through the window illuminates the young girl.
Squatting down in front of her, I make sure to keep a good bit of distance between us. Her non-reaction to me has the hair on the back of my neck standing up. She isn’t terrified of a big, strange man coming across her in the middle of the woods because she has been through the worst, and fuck if that doesn’t make the beast inside thirsty for blood. “My name’s Trent, and I’m here to help you.”
“No one can help me.” Her voice breaks right along with my heart. When she leans her head back, the light hits her face, and my breath gets caught in my chest. Her left eye is swollen, dried blood cakes her chin under a small cut to her lip, and mud covers the front of her clothes.
“What happened to you?” My hands, which are still raised in front of me, tremble with unreleased anger.
“They don’t want me.” She shuts her eyes, and tears mix with raindrops on her round cheeks.
“It’s really cold out here in the rain. Why don’t we go inside, and you can tell me who they are?” Lowering my hands, I placemy left one on my knee but hold out the right one for her to take. Holding my breath, I pray that this clearly terrified and lonely child trusts me enough to allow me to help her. Without hesitation, she slips her small hand in mine and allows me to pull her upright. As she tries to put weight on her left foot, she tumbles forward as a scream rips from her throat.
“Shit!”
“Would it be alright if I pick you up?” The only place we are touching is our palms, and I won’t change that unless she gives me the okay. The girl nods, and I walk her through what I’m about to do. “I’m going to slip my arm under your knees and along your shoulders. Okay?” Again, I pause and wait for her consent. Which she gives me in the form of another nod.
Even soaking wet, she feels light as a feather. I open the door and step into the room with a single bed. A shudder rolls through me, knowing what happened in this room, but I can’t risk taking her to camp just in case someone is there. Pulling down a gate over my memories, I gently lower her down onto the very edge of the bed and go in search of some towels. Once I have them, I wrap one around her shoulders and the other I lay over her lap. Keeping in mind what this girl probably went through, I lowered myself to the floor right in front of her.
“Like I said outside, my name is Trent, and I’m here to help you. Would it be alright if I looked at your ankle?”
She nods as her small hands cling to the towel around her shoulder. I slowly move forward as if approaching a scared cat, remove her mud-caked shoe, and push up her soaked jeans. Her ankle is red and swollen, but I don’t think it’s broken. “What happened?”
“I…” She hiccups, swallows, and tries again. “I fell while running after them.”
“After who?” I pull her jeans back down and look around for something to prop her leg up on. Spotting a dining room chair inthe corner of the room, I stand to grab it. “Here, place your foot on here. We don’t have any ice, but propping it up should help it a little.”
“My parents…”
Taking my place back on the floor, I keep my hands where she can see them. After a minute, she finally looks up at me, and the sight of her stormy gray eyes full of tears feels like a knife to the gut. “Who hurt you?”
“My father. All the other kids’ parents showed up to get them this morning… I waited all day for mine, but unlike the others, they hadn’t come to take me home. My father got out of the car, stormed up to me, and asked me if I was still…” A sob chokes off her ability to speak, but I have a feeling I know what she was about to say.
