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  “It’s not erased...” She swallowed. “Lorna, maybe you should rest. I can take you to your apartment or you can rest here.”

  “No,” I said as I sniffled my emotions and runny nose. “I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to see her again or hear her lame apologies or confessions.”

  “Confessions?”

  From where I was seated on the sofa, the door to the apartment was behind me. I couldn’t see and didn’t hear the door to the common area begin to open until the next sentence was off my tongue. “Yes, confessions. Nancy Pierce claimed Missy wasn’t kidnapped. She was sold, probably for money for drugs and alcohol.”

  “What the fuck?”

  Laurel and I both turned to over six feet of rage. Mason’s green eyes were focused on me. With his long hair tethered at the nape of his neck, the muscles in the side of his face pulsated. Colorful tattoos leaked from the collar of his shirt, and tendons pulled tight in his neck.

  “Mason,” Laurel said as she quickly stood. “Why are you home?”

  “I came to get—” He held out his arm, stopping his wife from getting closer as he turned to face me. “Lorna, what the fuck did you just say about Missy?”

  Lorna

  I jumped to my feet, meeting my brother’s unnecessary rage. “What the hell? Why are you angry about a dream?”

  Mason’s jaw clenched. As he took a step back, his eyes moved from Laurel to me and back to his wife. “Fuck,” he muttered.

  “Mason.”

  I turned to Laurel, wondering what I heard in the way in which she said her husband’s name.

  “Is there something you aren’t telling me?” I asked, uncertain who I was addressing.

  Mason tried to reach out, but I stepped away.

  “Lorna” —he took a deep breath— “What about Missy?”

  My head shook as I shut my eyes. There was so much that didn’t make sense. My temples resumed throbbing as the breakfast I’d eaten sloshed and twisted with the cups of coffee in my stomach.

  I heard Mason and Laurel call to me as I pushed past them to their hall bathroom, certain I couldn’t make it to my apartment in time. As soon as I closed the door, I fell to my knees and gripped the sides of the toilet seat.

  “Lorna.” Mason’s voice came over the pounding of his overzealous knocks.

  My chest ached along with my head as the contents of my stomach emptied into the toilet bowl.

  As I opened my eyes, for only a millisecond, the nice bathroom around me was gone, the pretty tile work, the plush towels, and even the word art upon the wall. My entire body shivered as concrete blocks replaced reality. And then the illusion was gone.

  The bathroom was back.

  “Lorna.” This time it was Laurel’s voice.

  “Just a minute,” I called as I forced myself to stand and walk to the sink.

  Cupping the water in my hands, I rinsed and spit. When I raised my gaze to the framed large mirror, the coldness returned to my skin. I splashed more water on my face, turning up the heat until my hands and cheeks registered the warmth.

  Opening the door, I anticipated seeing two sets of expectant eyes. Instead, the hallway was empty. Taking a deep breath, I pushed forward, making my way back to their living room. “I-I...”

  “Come sit down,” Laurel encouraged, patting the sofa near her.

  I came to a stop at the end of the hallway. “I think I better go home. Maybe it’s the medicine. I’m having difficulty keeping food down and” —I turned to Mason, fighting the tears— “I’m not ready for anger. It was a dream. I know you hate the subject of Missy. I wouldn’t have said anything if I knew you were here.”

  “So you’d lie to me? We don’t lie.”

  My lips came together. “Like that’s fair? It was a dream.” I felt like I’d repeated that phrase more times than necessary.

  “You didn’t tell me.”

  “Do you tell me every dream you have, Mace?”

  My brother looked at Laurel and me. “I guess...” He seemed to not only be searching for words but also doing his best to moderate his voice, toning down the anger and soothing a volatile situation as he had over the course of our lives. “You mentioned Missy. Tell me, what did she say she did?”

  “Who? I didn’t see Missy in my dream, and you know as well as I do that Nancy Pierce has probably been dead for years—she deserves to be. Missy is gone. People don’t turn up twenty-five years after they disappear.”

  My hands went to my stomach. The soreness of my ribs along with the nausea made for a sickening combination. “Laurel, I know I said I don’t want to sleep, but I haven’t.” I shook my head. “Not really. I think it would be best if I could take a break from the memories and uncertainty. Is there anything you can prescribe?”

  Laurel stood. “I can’t do that. I can call Dr. Dixon if you’d like. She can coordinate with the other medical professionals on your team to determine what would be best.”

  “Best,” I scoffed. “I don’t know. How about you give me some of your formula to make it all go away?”

  “That’s not my goal and we’re still in trials.”

  “Then let me be in a trial.”

  “Fuck, Lorna,” Mason said, “what the hell happened? You seem...on the edge. What did she say?”

  The emotions were there, bubbling out of the black hole. I didn’t want them or the memories that lurked in its depths. “It’s all catching up and I don’t think I’m ready.” I tried to give Laurel a smile. “Maybe talking wasn’t a good idea.”

  She knowingly nodded. “We can do it again when we’re alone.”

  “What?” Mason asked. “Now, I’m an intruder with my wife and sister?”

  “Mason.” It was again her one-word warning. “I would agree that the two of you should talk.”

  He looked at his watch. “I’m late.”

  “Then leave,” I said.

  “Tonight,” he replied. “I’ll talk to Reid.”

  “Reid?” It was my turn to question. “What does he have to do with it?”

  Mason’s jaw clenched. “We’re fucking drowning in shit.” He disappeared down the hallway and came back with a black box. “This is why I came back. Fuck, carry on. Don’t let me intrude in my own damn home.” His gaze came at me. “You and me are going to talk. I want answers.”

  A million thoughts were loose in my mind. Untamed and wild, they stampeded toward an unknown destination, chased by a hidden predator. “I don’t have answers, Mace. That’s the problem. Hell, I don’t even have questions.” I remembered something Ruby said. “I’m swimming and there’s no shore.” When neither of them replied, I went on, “It’s like I don’t remember if I can swim or if I’m afraid of sharks and why. Maybe I’m a talented swimmer. I just don’t know.” Tears prickled the backs of my eyes. “I am the one who needs answers. I don’t care if they’re from one of you or Reid. I need something.”

  Mason ran his hand over his tethered-back hair. “Tonight, after I’m back from some meetings I can’t ignore, we’ll talk.”

  Laurel exhaled.

  “I’m not a child, Mason,” I said. “I’m an adult and you keep forgetting that.”

  “You can be one hundred and ten fucking years old, and I’ll still be me and you’ll still be you.”

  “You can stop protecting me.”

  He took a step closer. “That’s not in me.”

  “Your meetings,” Laurel reminded Mason as she stood and offered him a kiss. “Stay safe. I love you.”

  Their eyes met. “I love you, Doc. Don’t...”

  She shook her head.

  “Just don’t,” he said.

  Once he was gone, I turned to her. “Don’t what?”

  She feigned a smile. “Leave the building. Go to the institute...try to learn baking, set the apartment building on fire. I could probably go on forever.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “He’s lying and so are you.”

  “We haven’t lied.”

  “So it’s almost
the truth? Isn’t that the same as a lie?”

  “Lorna, when you’re ready, you can tell Mason more about your dream, and he can fill you in on a few things they decided could wait.”

  “They?” I said too loud.

  Laurel didn’t respond.

  “The men. That’s who you’re referring to as they: Reid and Mason. Are they alone or are Sparrow and Patrick in on it too?”

  Her lips flattened.

  “Of course they are. The four of them share a damn brain. They all know something, and for the last four days they’ve kept it from me” —my head tilted— “and from Araneae?”

  “It doesn’t apply equally to her.”

  “They know who hurt me?”

  She shook her head. “They haven’t said.”

  The black hole returned. No longer satisfied with a low bubble, the emotions within grew in intensity, the bottomless pit of dark beginning to boil. As I blinked my eyes, there were images.

  Was this what she meant when she asked about flashes?

  There was the old woman. There were stars. I saw a man with black hair. His complexion was light yet his expression was...I was afraid.

  My fingertips went to my cheek. Placing gentle pressure, I felt the soreness. I fell back to the sofa. I blinked again. The walls were covered in paneling and the stench of cigarette smoke hung thick in the air.

  The flashes seemed unrelated, and yet I didn’t want any of them. “You mentioned blacking out with alcohol. I never did, but there are blanks from before—long ago—things I can’t remember.”

  “No one remembers everything,” Laurel said. “That’s normal.”

  Again, I stood. The small hairs on my arms stood to attention and my skin bristled.

  “Lorna, are you all right?”

  I brushed invisible predators from my arms.

  “There’s nothing on you.”

  The offensive smoke scent faded. I looked down at my arms and pulled the sleeves of my sweater up. The bites were healing, yet they weren’t gone. However, there was nothing else on me.

  I turned to my friend. “Laurel, what happened to me?”

  Suddenly, a thought that had not occurred to me before this second seemed obvious—as obvious as the insect bites on my skin.

  Why hadn’t I thought of it before?

  “Do you want to rest?” Laurel asked.

  Instead of answering, I asked, “Was I...raped?”

  Oh God.

  Was that why Reid didn’t want to have sex?

  Were there diseases?

  Taking a few steps toward their dining room, I had to keep moving. My words came quicker, in time with my steps along the shiny wood floor. “I need to know. I need to know if I was assaulted...sexually.”

  “We should contact Reid.”

  “Why? No.” My volume rose. “It isn’t his decision.” I reached for my phone in my back pocket. “I’ll call Renita. It might be too late to test.” Reid and I had just... My hand with the phone fell to my side. “Shit. It probably is too late.”

  “If she’s at the hospital, you can leave a message.”

  “No,” I corrected. “I mean too late as in...too much time since I was found.”

  “It isn’t.”

  “This morning...Reid and I...”

  Laurel smiled. “I’m so glad.”

  Her response made me grin. “What? Why do you care?”

  “Because, psychologically, the fact that you’re ready to be intimate is a good sign. It’s a very good sign.”

  “But because we had sex, they can’t test.” I let out a breath and sat again. “Why didn’t I think of this before?”

  Laurel sat beside me, placed her hand over mine, and squeezed. “We don’t need Reid present. That is your choice. You have every right, legal and otherwise, to learn this information on your own. I simply believe that it’s good to have support when faced with difficult situations.”

  “Difficult...” My pulse kicked up, adding to my throbbing temples. “Do you believe I was?”

  “Assumptions aren’t necessary.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “How long does it take to get results?”

  “You’ve already been tested.”

  I sat taller. “When? How?”

  “You were unconscious. As your husband, Reid had the right to authorize medical procedures. Some couldn’t wait, like the plastic surgery.”

  “And a rape kit?”

  Laurel nodded.

  I fell back against the soft sofa. Reid thought I’d been raped. “Wait, has he seen the results?”

  “No. He specifically said no one could see them until the time came, if it ever did, when you asked. He said it didn’t matter to him.”

  “Didn’t matter?” My lip slid between my upper and lower teeth as I gave that some more thought.

  “Lorna, it matters. He made it clear that he wouldn’t love you any less or think differently. The only thing he was told about the kit was that you tested negative for STDs.”

  I let out a long breath. That was good. “I’ll call him and let him know that I want to know.”

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  As I reached for my phone, I confessed, “Laurel, I feel like there are so many things I should know and remember, and they’re right there. I can’t let something this large be within my reach without getting an answer. I’m sinking and now I have one thing I can control. Whether Reid can be here or not, I need to know.”

  “I understand.”

  I activated the screen of my phone and entered the pass code. “I’ll call Renita first and find out when she can be here and then let Reid know. Either way, I’ll have at least one answer today.”

  Reid

  After Mason left and I was alone on 2, I forced myself to stay focused. It was too easy to slide into my thoughts of how I would avenge Lorna. Yes, Araneae was part of the equation. I wasn’t minimizing her kidnapping or anything that happened to her.

  When it came to our women, the four of us weren’t teenage boys in a locker room. There was no boasting of conquests or discussions of what occurred in the privacy of our marriage vows. That wasn’t necessarily because we were upstanding individuals. The truth was we all had done things in our lives we would rather not bring up at the dinner table. It was that within this strange family we’d begun in this tower, our wives weren’t simply present for fucking. They were not and never were considered less because of their gender. They were a part of the greater us.

  Lorna shared with me how Sparrow had said something to her not long after our wedding. It was when he talked to her about her role in our lives. I supposed that talk should have come from me, but when it came to the group as a whole, it was Sparrow’s show. I had made it clear that Lorna wasn’t leaving. I did all I could to show her she was loved and wanted. He took it a step further, imploring her to be a part of not only my life but everyone’s.

  For six years, we were married before any of the other women joined this castle in the sky. It would have been shitty of me to bask in an active sex life while the others were most hopelessly devoted to their hands and cold showers.

  No, they didn’t say that.

  While Mason was a mystery until he returned with Laurel, I knew of times Sparrow and Patrick had gone off the grid without explanation. It wasn’t often—but it happened. I’m a man and knew that they were calmer upon their return. It was usually after a big event in our world.

  Our wives weren’t stress relievers, though Lorna’s and my morning hit that mark.

  My point was that Sparrow hasn’t shared personal knowledge of how Araneae was dealing with what happened. I knew facts. Her pregnancy was progressing. She had the same compound in her system as Lorna and had no memories since before the women were taken to the ranch.

  Did she wake crying?

  Did she startle at normal noises?

  I didn’t have those answers. I knew my wife and saw the unjust fear in her eyes when a tea kettle began to whistle. I found her cryin
g in our shower and saw the effects of her captivity on her skin.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want retaliation for what had been done to Araneae. It was that I needed it for my wife.

  As the morning turned to afternoon, I fulfilled my checklist.

  Utilizing travel records in and out of Dulles International and Ronald Reagan Washington National, I successfully tracked the comings and goings of senators who worked with or near Edison Walters. Over the years, he’d worked as a senior legislative aide for many senators in all parties. It was his knowledge and dedication that they wanted, not an affiliation to party. Whatever the newest hot-button issue was, Edison Walters and his staff were the go-to aides. Their experience with compiling bills and wording and presenting them in committee made them highly sought after.

  While the bipartisanship of yesteryears was in a wane cycle, with people like Edison Walters, he’d been around long enough to believe the wax cycle would return. He’d personally walked the halls of various buildings within the Capitol complex during the administration of the last seven presidents.

  It would be wrong to assume that Edison Walters had simultaneously held the position of Top during all of over forty years. If that were true he’d reached pinnacle status in his twenties. Of course, there was no way to research the history of the top administrator of a governmental agency that didn’t formally exist.

  If I wanted to take the time, I could verify the money trails and determine that additional funding was allocated before Edison Walters entered the congressional chambers. The congressional summer recess was about to conclude.

  There’d been no official documentation of Walters leaving Washington DC during the break; however, utilizing different cameras around the city, establishments he frequented, and a stoplight near his home, I learned he’d been off the grid for the first three weeks of August.

  A week and a half ago he returned.

  I can only assume his travel wasn’t commercial but facilitated by the Order.

  The bunker where Christian and Romero found the ladies’ shoes was near Anaconda. I cross-referenced facial recognition software with the stored data I had from tracking down the old Ford truck.