Connection, page 7
Grace wasn’t sure what she thought of Remmy Foster, or her visions. The practical, logical police officer in her wanted to say this “witness” was out of her tree, just looking for attention. She did not feel that Remmy was involved, but all the same, had to get as much information from her as possible. Julie Wilson’s life might depend on it.
****
Her head pounding, Julie blinked a few times. Groaning, she turned her head, shocked to see a window with the sun shining in. Flimsy drapes hung on either side. She realized she was lying on a bed in a medium-sized room.
“Okay,” the despised voice rang out, capturing Julie’s attention. “Time to take a shower.”
Julie felt like she would throw up as her wrists were grasped and she was pulled to a sitting position. The man from the little room was there, though now she could see him clearly. A handsome man, if she had seen him on the street, but now he looked like Satan himself. She noted the neatly trimmed and combed dark hair with well groomed sideburns tinged with gray. The skin of his face was tan, or he was from a darker complected ethnic background. He was pulling her to her feet, her weakened body leaning heavily against him.
He supported her to a smallish bathroom— toilet, sink with vanity, and a tub with tiled walls and clear glass doors, one side already slid open. He helped Julie step into the tub and turned on the water for her. She gasped as ice cold spray hit her back, her body instinctively moving to the far wall.
The man grinned. “Oops.”
The water turned warmer, and Julie was urged back under the spray and given the simple command, “Wash.” She couldn’t help keeping an eye on the voyeur that sat on the closed toilet lid, watching as she washed her body and hair. She was grateful for the shower, but her skin crawled as the man’s gaze devoured her.
****
“So tell me more about you,” Grace said, tapping the tip of her pencil on the pad. “Have you always had visions?”
Remmy nodded. “Ever since I can remember. But as I told Perry Mason, they’re usually of things that have already happened, something the person is carrying around with ’em.”
“So, you pick up on something, a particular emotion or memory?”
“Yeah! Exactly.” Remmy grinned. At least this one’s got a brain.
“Okay.” Grace leaned back as she studied the girl. “Tell me something about me. What am I carrying?”
Remmy rolled her eyes. “It’s not something I can just call up. I can’t just say, ‘Abracadabra, Scooby Doo, tell me something about you’ and then shazam!” Grace chuckled. “It doesn’t work that way,” Remmy continued. “I can’t control who or what I pick up.”
“But for some reason, you picked up Julie Wilson?”
“Yes.”
****
Julie’s skin was warm and tingly, but her blood ran cold as the shower door slid open, the man holding out a hand to help her out of the tub. Hand trembling, she took it. He quickly dried her off and brushed her hair away from her face. With a look of steely determination, he led her from the bathroom and back into the bedroom.
Without warning, Julie was shoved to the bed, her body bouncing on the mattress. Like a ravenous tiger, the man was on her, roughly handcuffing her wrists to the brass headboard.
****
Remmy stopped mid-sentence, her eyes opening wide. Grace watched her.
“Remmy?” She glanced behind her to see what was terrifying the young woman. Seeing nothing, she turned back to look at her. “Hey, is everything okay?”
****
Julie watched with horrified eyes as her attacker undressed himself, his intent clear as his penis bobbed into view. Jesus, no... He climbed onto the bed and forced her legs apart. Stunned, and weak from lack of food and water, Julie couldn’t resist. In a brief moment of clarity, she wondered if maybe that was his plan all along.
Sergio moved between her legs, pinning her petite frame to the bed with his own much larger body. He looked down at her, bringing a hand up to brush some drying blonde hair from terrified green eyes. “Such a beautiful face,” he murmured, almost lovingly. He caressed her cheek with his knuckles. “Lovely.”
****
Grace moved over to sit next to the witness, the blue eyes wide open, the mouth too. Her face had turned ashen and her body convulsed, almost as though she were choking on something. “Remmy?” Cold fear was beginning to trickle down her spine. She reached inside the pocket of her jacket, cursing silently when she didn’t find her cellphone, and remembering that it was plugged into the car charger. There was no way she could leave to get it. “Remmy? Can you hear me?”
****
Julie cried out in shock and pain as her body was invaded, his breath hot on her cheek as he held her close, his groans loud in her ear. Tears of fear and humiliation streaked her cheeks.
****
Remmy squeezed her legs closed, trying desperately to get rid of the abhorrent sensation. A sob burst from her throat and tears fell down her cheeks unchecked. She could vaguely hear the sound of someone’s voice, a ghostly hand on her back rubbing soothing circles.
****
Sergio’s groan, loud and obscene, signaled his finish, and he rested his body on the woman beneath him. His heartbeat finding its normal cadence, he pushed up on powerful arms and looked down into the tear-streaked face. He smiled, placing a soft kiss on the cheek, ignoring the flinch—this time.
“Don’t cry,” he murmured. “I know the first time is painful. I tried to go slow.” He pushed himself up fully, feet touching the carpeting on his bedroom floor. He grabbed his bathrobe from the back of the bedroom door and shoved his arms into the velvety sleeves. “I hope you like omelets,” he said, his smile bright.
Left alone, Julie tugged on the handcuffs, straining to look up at her bound hands. There was no way she could escape; she was a captive. The tears came hard, her body hurting almost as much as her head and heart. Despair was setting in.
****
Remmy eventually came back to herself. She felt the solid warmth of Grace’s hand on her back, no longer a phantom touch. She grabbed the tail of her long work shirt and brought it up to wipe her face clean of the embarrassing tears.
After a moment, the detective spoke. “I’m absolutely dumbfounded. What just happened?”
Remmy sniffled then released a heavy sigh. She was unwilling, and unable, to unclench her thighs. “You guys really need to find her,” she said, voice low and thick with tears. She turned eyes turned electric blue to the detective. “I think she’s been taken by a psychopath.”
****
Julie lay on the bed; for how long, she wasn’t sure. She could hear the mundane sounds of someone cooking in a distant room. Her eyes closed, she tried to forget that person existed, that he existed. Her mind raced, replaying the last day she’d had her freedom. She thought back to that Saturday when she had spent the entire day with Matt and Skylar. Despite her circumstances, she smiled as she thought of Skylar. She had so looked forward to having him stay with her for that last week.
Fresh tears streamed down Julie’s cheeks as the realization hit her that she should be in the classroom right now. The second week of the new school year, she realized, judging by the calendar hanging on the bedroom wall, each day crossed out with a red X. Who had taken over for her? Where did everyone think she was? Did they think she was dead? Maybe she was. Maybe this was all some elaborate scene laid out for her. Maybe Pamela was right; maybe she was in Hell.
****
“You’re positive you’re alright?” Grace Cowan asked.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Remmy said. Taking the business card that was extended, she tucked it into the back pocket of her jeans. “And, as promised, I’ll be down at the station tomorrow morning.” She met concerned brown eyes. “I just can’t leave right now. My boss isn’t here and I can’t leave the new girl alone.” She indicated the store behind her.
Detective Cowan nodded. “I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then. Nine-thirty. And don’t be late.”
Remmy saluted. “Nine-thirty. I’ll be there.” She watched the woman stride out of sight, turning the corner at the side of the building. Blowing out a deep breath, she collapsed back down to her seat. “Holy shit,” she whispered.
Chapter Ten
At the knocking on her apartment door, Remmy looked up from reading a magazine. “Come in,” she called out. Joan peered in and Remmy flapped the magazine closed and tossed it aside. “Hey,” she said, leaning back against the headboard, socked feet planted firmly on the mattress.
“Hey.” Joan stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “You got a minute?”
“Sure.” Remmy pushed herself to sitting, pulling her legs under her Indian style. “What’s up?”
Joan sat on the edge of the bed, glancing at the glossy so carelessly tossed before turning her gaze to Remmy. “I want to talk to you about what happened the other night at dinner.”
Remmy groaned inwardly. She had hoped the incident would be forgotten. “What about it?”
“What happened? I’m truly worried about you. Nothing’s...wrong, is it, Remmy?”
Remmy pulled her knees up until they rested against her chest, arms wrapped around her shins. She was feeling cornered. She couldn’t repress the rueful chuckle.
Confused, Joan asked, “What?”
Remmy glanced at her, deciding how she should respond. What should she do? More than likely Joan, like the rest of them, would think she was nuts and send her packing. Why not? She was used to it; it had certainly happened before. Taking a deep breath, she said, “You know, it’s funny. I spend my whole life with this thing, trying to figure out what the hell it is, and now suddenly I’m explaining it to three different people, two in one day.” She met Joan’s gaze, which showed even more confusion. Remmy sighed. “I don’t have seizures, Joan. I don’t have epilepsy. I don’t even have a brain tumor, I don’t think.”
“Then what do you have?”
“Visions. Plain and simple, I have visions. I get these crazy images in my head, and once in a while I get to feel the wonderful emotions behind them.” It wasn’t difficult to see that Joan wasn’t following her. “As I’ve explained to two cops already—both of whom looked at me very much like you’re looking at me right now, I might add—I pick up strong emotion, something someone has been carrying with them. I can’t control who it will be or what it will show me, but it does. And, for some crazy reason, I’m picking up loud and clear on Julie Wilson.”
Joan stared at her. “Julie Wilson?”
“Yes. Julie Wilson. I have no idea why. She started out by invading my dreams, but now she’s invading my waking moments too.” She turned away so she wouldn’t have to see the doubt or disdain in Joan’s eyes.
“So, at dinner the other night, you were having one of these...episodes?”
Remmy burst into laughter, Joan’s word choice bringing back her own characterization to Detective Wong that this thing with Julie was like live TV.
“Yeah. I was. And it happened again today when one of the detectives on the case came to talk to me at the store.”
“So,” Joan said, “are you some kind of psychic, Remmy? Empath, maybe?”
Red-rimmed blue eyes focused on her. “No, Joan. I’m very tired, that’s what I am. Today took a lot out of me. I just want to close my eyes and see inside my own head, not someone else’s dungeon.”
“But—”
“Please, Joan? We can talk about this later, I promise. I just want to sleep.”
Finally Joan nodded, rising from the bed. “Okay. We’ll talk later.”
Alone again, Remmy flopped back against the stacked pillows. “So tired.”
****
The fields were green and lush, wild flowers waving in the soft breeze. Julie walked along, hands brushing over their tops, the soft petals tickling her palms. She felt the flow of a dress around her legs as she walked. She felt happy; she felt safe. Closing her eyes, she raised her face to the warming sunlight, allowing it to reach inside and touch her deepest parts.
Sensing someone close, green eyes opened and Julie looked around. Standing off in the distance, she saw a lone figure, a woman. She couldn’t make out the face or any details of the dress she wore, but a slow smile spread across Julie’s features. She’s here to help me. The words echoed in her head, even as she began to walk toward the woman. She knew in her soul that the woman would not hurt her, that she was watching over her.
Remmy watched as Julie raised a hand in welcome and greeting. She smiled and raised her own hand.
****
Breathing hard, Remmy sat bolt upright in her bed, face pale and bangs glued to her forehead with sweat. She could feel her heart pounding, intense pain about the size of a quarter fixed dead center in her forehead. Closing her eyes, she brought her hand up to rub it, feeling the clamminess of her skin. Running a hand through her hair, pushing it back off her forehead, she stared out over her apartment.
“Holy shit,” she said. Shoving the covers aside, she stood, stretching her back and arms before padding over to the kitchen area. She grabbed a bottle of cold water from the fridge and quickly finished the entire sixteen ounces by drinking down mouthfuls at a time. Crushing the flimsy plastic, she tossed it into the trashcan, aware that the sun was slowly peeking over the rooftops.
She was due at the police station in a few hours. What was she supposed to tell them? What good was she to Julie Wilson when she couldn’t tell them a damn thing that was concrete? She had no idea where the woman was, no idea who had taken her. All she got were tortured visions. Visions. Remmy couldn’t help but be bitter about them. What was the point of them? They’d never done her a damn bit of good, turning her into a freak in the eyes of society.
She thought about the dream. It had been so real, so vivid. She knew it was Julie Wilson she’d been watching. She’d felt the woman’s fear, had felt her relief when she realized she wasn’t alone in that field. She had felt her.
“Damn it all,” she whispered with a heavy sigh.
****
Julie gasped as she woke abruptly. Trying to bring a hand to her pounding heart, she realized that she couldn’t move it. Contorting as much as she could, she saw that her hand was cuffed to the headboard. That’s right. How could I forget that? Lying still so as not to awaken the monster sleeping beside her, she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, praying that the sense of peace and safety she’d had in the dream would come back to her. Sadly, it eluded her at every turn. She was left with a sick feeling in her gut and the stinging pain between her legs.
It was close to two in the morning before she was finally allowed to go to sleep, her captor collapsing to the bed in exhaustion after their extreme sessions of... Julie squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t even bring herself to give a name to what she’d been forced to endure. To her horror, hot tears leaked from her eyes.
Julie gasped, startled as a large hand suddenly covered her left breast. She didn’t dare look as the mattress shifted beneath her. He was awake.
“You’re up early,” he murmured against the skin of her neck.
Julie squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to be noticeably revolted by his touch, his five-o’clock shadow scratching against her tender flesh. “I need to go to the bathroom,” she whispered, barely able to hear her own voice.
Sergio lifted himself to an elbow, looking down at the beauty in his bed. Her eyes were closed, a wrinkle formed across her brow. When he didn’t speak, she finally looked at him, pleading in her eyes. He nodded, scooting off the bed and walking naked across the room. He dug the key out from underneath his underwear, sure to use his body to block what he was doing from possibly prying eyes.
Crawling up the bed, he straddled her body, reaching above her to unlock her restraints. He couldn’t risk losing her. One wrist free, Sergio took her hand in his, kissing the palm before resting the hand on her chest. He quickly turned to the other hand and released it.
Julie sighed in relief, her hands and arms tingling horribly from being in the same position for so many hours. She brought both arms up to cover her breasts in a moment of modesty.
“Go,” the man said, giving her permission.
Julie winced as she stood up, wanting so badly to soak in a hot tub of water to soothe her abused sex, but knew that wasn’t an option. She made slow progress to the bathroom, shocked that he wasn’t following. Sitting on the toilet, she held her breath, desperately wanting to hold back, as she knew it was going to burn. Need overtook pain, and Julie whimpered softly as her body relieved itself. She couldn’t help wondering if her flesh had been torn.
Sitting on the toilet, she looked around the cramped bathroom, noting the window just to her right. She glanced toward the doorway. She couldn’t see him, nor could she hear him. Turning back to the window, she studied the latch, then raised up to her tiptoes, trying to see through the frosted glass. It looked as though the window would lead to the side of the back of the house. She couldn’t see details, but she could make out the striped colors of what looked to be an umbrella with a patio set.
Julie cried out as her head was yanked back by her hair and then her forehead was slammed into the window, knocking the daylights out of her and causing her to see stars.
“I said you could take a piss, not get stupid,” the man said in her ear just before her forehead was slammed again.
Julie was aware of the searing pain just before everything went black.
Chapter Eleven
Remmy arrived at the police station, right on time. She was ushered back to where the detectives’ desks were, as Detective Wong hadn’t come in yet and Detective Cowan was on a call. The other detectives there kept an eye on her as she wandered over to a case on the wall where various medals and trophies were displayed. They looked like softball trophies.
****
Her head pounding, Julie blinked a few times. Groaning, she turned her head, shocked to see a window with the sun shining in. Flimsy drapes hung on either side. She realized she was lying on a bed in a medium-sized room.
“Okay,” the despised voice rang out, capturing Julie’s attention. “Time to take a shower.”
Julie felt like she would throw up as her wrists were grasped and she was pulled to a sitting position. The man from the little room was there, though now she could see him clearly. A handsome man, if she had seen him on the street, but now he looked like Satan himself. She noted the neatly trimmed and combed dark hair with well groomed sideburns tinged with gray. The skin of his face was tan, or he was from a darker complected ethnic background. He was pulling her to her feet, her weakened body leaning heavily against him.
He supported her to a smallish bathroom— toilet, sink with vanity, and a tub with tiled walls and clear glass doors, one side already slid open. He helped Julie step into the tub and turned on the water for her. She gasped as ice cold spray hit her back, her body instinctively moving to the far wall.
The man grinned. “Oops.”
The water turned warmer, and Julie was urged back under the spray and given the simple command, “Wash.” She couldn’t help keeping an eye on the voyeur that sat on the closed toilet lid, watching as she washed her body and hair. She was grateful for the shower, but her skin crawled as the man’s gaze devoured her.
****
“So tell me more about you,” Grace said, tapping the tip of her pencil on the pad. “Have you always had visions?”
Remmy nodded. “Ever since I can remember. But as I told Perry Mason, they’re usually of things that have already happened, something the person is carrying around with ’em.”
“So, you pick up on something, a particular emotion or memory?”
“Yeah! Exactly.” Remmy grinned. At least this one’s got a brain.
“Okay.” Grace leaned back as she studied the girl. “Tell me something about me. What am I carrying?”
Remmy rolled her eyes. “It’s not something I can just call up. I can’t just say, ‘Abracadabra, Scooby Doo, tell me something about you’ and then shazam!” Grace chuckled. “It doesn’t work that way,” Remmy continued. “I can’t control who or what I pick up.”
“But for some reason, you picked up Julie Wilson?”
“Yes.”
****
Julie’s skin was warm and tingly, but her blood ran cold as the shower door slid open, the man holding out a hand to help her out of the tub. Hand trembling, she took it. He quickly dried her off and brushed her hair away from her face. With a look of steely determination, he led her from the bathroom and back into the bedroom.
Without warning, Julie was shoved to the bed, her body bouncing on the mattress. Like a ravenous tiger, the man was on her, roughly handcuffing her wrists to the brass headboard.
****
Remmy stopped mid-sentence, her eyes opening wide. Grace watched her.
“Remmy?” She glanced behind her to see what was terrifying the young woman. Seeing nothing, she turned back to look at her. “Hey, is everything okay?”
****
Julie watched with horrified eyes as her attacker undressed himself, his intent clear as his penis bobbed into view. Jesus, no... He climbed onto the bed and forced her legs apart. Stunned, and weak from lack of food and water, Julie couldn’t resist. In a brief moment of clarity, she wondered if maybe that was his plan all along.
Sergio moved between her legs, pinning her petite frame to the bed with his own much larger body. He looked down at her, bringing a hand up to brush some drying blonde hair from terrified green eyes. “Such a beautiful face,” he murmured, almost lovingly. He caressed her cheek with his knuckles. “Lovely.”
****
Grace moved over to sit next to the witness, the blue eyes wide open, the mouth too. Her face had turned ashen and her body convulsed, almost as though she were choking on something. “Remmy?” Cold fear was beginning to trickle down her spine. She reached inside the pocket of her jacket, cursing silently when she didn’t find her cellphone, and remembering that it was plugged into the car charger. There was no way she could leave to get it. “Remmy? Can you hear me?”
****
Julie cried out in shock and pain as her body was invaded, his breath hot on her cheek as he held her close, his groans loud in her ear. Tears of fear and humiliation streaked her cheeks.
****
Remmy squeezed her legs closed, trying desperately to get rid of the abhorrent sensation. A sob burst from her throat and tears fell down her cheeks unchecked. She could vaguely hear the sound of someone’s voice, a ghostly hand on her back rubbing soothing circles.
****
Sergio’s groan, loud and obscene, signaled his finish, and he rested his body on the woman beneath him. His heartbeat finding its normal cadence, he pushed up on powerful arms and looked down into the tear-streaked face. He smiled, placing a soft kiss on the cheek, ignoring the flinch—this time.
“Don’t cry,” he murmured. “I know the first time is painful. I tried to go slow.” He pushed himself up fully, feet touching the carpeting on his bedroom floor. He grabbed his bathrobe from the back of the bedroom door and shoved his arms into the velvety sleeves. “I hope you like omelets,” he said, his smile bright.
Left alone, Julie tugged on the handcuffs, straining to look up at her bound hands. There was no way she could escape; she was a captive. The tears came hard, her body hurting almost as much as her head and heart. Despair was setting in.
****
Remmy eventually came back to herself. She felt the solid warmth of Grace’s hand on her back, no longer a phantom touch. She grabbed the tail of her long work shirt and brought it up to wipe her face clean of the embarrassing tears.
After a moment, the detective spoke. “I’m absolutely dumbfounded. What just happened?”
Remmy sniffled then released a heavy sigh. She was unwilling, and unable, to unclench her thighs. “You guys really need to find her,” she said, voice low and thick with tears. She turned eyes turned electric blue to the detective. “I think she’s been taken by a psychopath.”
****
Julie lay on the bed; for how long, she wasn’t sure. She could hear the mundane sounds of someone cooking in a distant room. Her eyes closed, she tried to forget that person existed, that he existed. Her mind raced, replaying the last day she’d had her freedom. She thought back to that Saturday when she had spent the entire day with Matt and Skylar. Despite her circumstances, she smiled as she thought of Skylar. She had so looked forward to having him stay with her for that last week.
Fresh tears streamed down Julie’s cheeks as the realization hit her that she should be in the classroom right now. The second week of the new school year, she realized, judging by the calendar hanging on the bedroom wall, each day crossed out with a red X. Who had taken over for her? Where did everyone think she was? Did they think she was dead? Maybe she was. Maybe this was all some elaborate scene laid out for her. Maybe Pamela was right; maybe she was in Hell.
****
“You’re positive you’re alright?” Grace Cowan asked.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Remmy said. Taking the business card that was extended, she tucked it into the back pocket of her jeans. “And, as promised, I’ll be down at the station tomorrow morning.” She met concerned brown eyes. “I just can’t leave right now. My boss isn’t here and I can’t leave the new girl alone.” She indicated the store behind her.
Detective Cowan nodded. “I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then. Nine-thirty. And don’t be late.”
Remmy saluted. “Nine-thirty. I’ll be there.” She watched the woman stride out of sight, turning the corner at the side of the building. Blowing out a deep breath, she collapsed back down to her seat. “Holy shit,” she whispered.
Chapter Ten
At the knocking on her apartment door, Remmy looked up from reading a magazine. “Come in,” she called out. Joan peered in and Remmy flapped the magazine closed and tossed it aside. “Hey,” she said, leaning back against the headboard, socked feet planted firmly on the mattress.
“Hey.” Joan stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “You got a minute?”
“Sure.” Remmy pushed herself to sitting, pulling her legs under her Indian style. “What’s up?”
Joan sat on the edge of the bed, glancing at the glossy so carelessly tossed before turning her gaze to Remmy. “I want to talk to you about what happened the other night at dinner.”
Remmy groaned inwardly. She had hoped the incident would be forgotten. “What about it?”
“What happened? I’m truly worried about you. Nothing’s...wrong, is it, Remmy?”
Remmy pulled her knees up until they rested against her chest, arms wrapped around her shins. She was feeling cornered. She couldn’t repress the rueful chuckle.
Confused, Joan asked, “What?”
Remmy glanced at her, deciding how she should respond. What should she do? More than likely Joan, like the rest of them, would think she was nuts and send her packing. Why not? She was used to it; it had certainly happened before. Taking a deep breath, she said, “You know, it’s funny. I spend my whole life with this thing, trying to figure out what the hell it is, and now suddenly I’m explaining it to three different people, two in one day.” She met Joan’s gaze, which showed even more confusion. Remmy sighed. “I don’t have seizures, Joan. I don’t have epilepsy. I don’t even have a brain tumor, I don’t think.”
“Then what do you have?”
“Visions. Plain and simple, I have visions. I get these crazy images in my head, and once in a while I get to feel the wonderful emotions behind them.” It wasn’t difficult to see that Joan wasn’t following her. “As I’ve explained to two cops already—both of whom looked at me very much like you’re looking at me right now, I might add—I pick up strong emotion, something someone has been carrying with them. I can’t control who it will be or what it will show me, but it does. And, for some crazy reason, I’m picking up loud and clear on Julie Wilson.”
Joan stared at her. “Julie Wilson?”
“Yes. Julie Wilson. I have no idea why. She started out by invading my dreams, but now she’s invading my waking moments too.” She turned away so she wouldn’t have to see the doubt or disdain in Joan’s eyes.
“So, at dinner the other night, you were having one of these...episodes?”
Remmy burst into laughter, Joan’s word choice bringing back her own characterization to Detective Wong that this thing with Julie was like live TV.
“Yeah. I was. And it happened again today when one of the detectives on the case came to talk to me at the store.”
“So,” Joan said, “are you some kind of psychic, Remmy? Empath, maybe?”
Red-rimmed blue eyes focused on her. “No, Joan. I’m very tired, that’s what I am. Today took a lot out of me. I just want to close my eyes and see inside my own head, not someone else’s dungeon.”
“But—”
“Please, Joan? We can talk about this later, I promise. I just want to sleep.”
Finally Joan nodded, rising from the bed. “Okay. We’ll talk later.”
Alone again, Remmy flopped back against the stacked pillows. “So tired.”
****
The fields were green and lush, wild flowers waving in the soft breeze. Julie walked along, hands brushing over their tops, the soft petals tickling her palms. She felt the flow of a dress around her legs as she walked. She felt happy; she felt safe. Closing her eyes, she raised her face to the warming sunlight, allowing it to reach inside and touch her deepest parts.
Sensing someone close, green eyes opened and Julie looked around. Standing off in the distance, she saw a lone figure, a woman. She couldn’t make out the face or any details of the dress she wore, but a slow smile spread across Julie’s features. She’s here to help me. The words echoed in her head, even as she began to walk toward the woman. She knew in her soul that the woman would not hurt her, that she was watching over her.
Remmy watched as Julie raised a hand in welcome and greeting. She smiled and raised her own hand.
****
Breathing hard, Remmy sat bolt upright in her bed, face pale and bangs glued to her forehead with sweat. She could feel her heart pounding, intense pain about the size of a quarter fixed dead center in her forehead. Closing her eyes, she brought her hand up to rub it, feeling the clamminess of her skin. Running a hand through her hair, pushing it back off her forehead, she stared out over her apartment.
“Holy shit,” she said. Shoving the covers aside, she stood, stretching her back and arms before padding over to the kitchen area. She grabbed a bottle of cold water from the fridge and quickly finished the entire sixteen ounces by drinking down mouthfuls at a time. Crushing the flimsy plastic, she tossed it into the trashcan, aware that the sun was slowly peeking over the rooftops.
She was due at the police station in a few hours. What was she supposed to tell them? What good was she to Julie Wilson when she couldn’t tell them a damn thing that was concrete? She had no idea where the woman was, no idea who had taken her. All she got were tortured visions. Visions. Remmy couldn’t help but be bitter about them. What was the point of them? They’d never done her a damn bit of good, turning her into a freak in the eyes of society.
She thought about the dream. It had been so real, so vivid. She knew it was Julie Wilson she’d been watching. She’d felt the woman’s fear, had felt her relief when she realized she wasn’t alone in that field. She had felt her.
“Damn it all,” she whispered with a heavy sigh.
****
Julie gasped as she woke abruptly. Trying to bring a hand to her pounding heart, she realized that she couldn’t move it. Contorting as much as she could, she saw that her hand was cuffed to the headboard. That’s right. How could I forget that? Lying still so as not to awaken the monster sleeping beside her, she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, praying that the sense of peace and safety she’d had in the dream would come back to her. Sadly, it eluded her at every turn. She was left with a sick feeling in her gut and the stinging pain between her legs.
It was close to two in the morning before she was finally allowed to go to sleep, her captor collapsing to the bed in exhaustion after their extreme sessions of... Julie squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t even bring herself to give a name to what she’d been forced to endure. To her horror, hot tears leaked from her eyes.
Julie gasped, startled as a large hand suddenly covered her left breast. She didn’t dare look as the mattress shifted beneath her. He was awake.
“You’re up early,” he murmured against the skin of her neck.
Julie squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to be noticeably revolted by his touch, his five-o’clock shadow scratching against her tender flesh. “I need to go to the bathroom,” she whispered, barely able to hear her own voice.
Sergio lifted himself to an elbow, looking down at the beauty in his bed. Her eyes were closed, a wrinkle formed across her brow. When he didn’t speak, she finally looked at him, pleading in her eyes. He nodded, scooting off the bed and walking naked across the room. He dug the key out from underneath his underwear, sure to use his body to block what he was doing from possibly prying eyes.
Crawling up the bed, he straddled her body, reaching above her to unlock her restraints. He couldn’t risk losing her. One wrist free, Sergio took her hand in his, kissing the palm before resting the hand on her chest. He quickly turned to the other hand and released it.
Julie sighed in relief, her hands and arms tingling horribly from being in the same position for so many hours. She brought both arms up to cover her breasts in a moment of modesty.
“Go,” the man said, giving her permission.
Julie winced as she stood up, wanting so badly to soak in a hot tub of water to soothe her abused sex, but knew that wasn’t an option. She made slow progress to the bathroom, shocked that he wasn’t following. Sitting on the toilet, she held her breath, desperately wanting to hold back, as she knew it was going to burn. Need overtook pain, and Julie whimpered softly as her body relieved itself. She couldn’t help wondering if her flesh had been torn.
Sitting on the toilet, she looked around the cramped bathroom, noting the window just to her right. She glanced toward the doorway. She couldn’t see him, nor could she hear him. Turning back to the window, she studied the latch, then raised up to her tiptoes, trying to see through the frosted glass. It looked as though the window would lead to the side of the back of the house. She couldn’t see details, but she could make out the striped colors of what looked to be an umbrella with a patio set.
Julie cried out as her head was yanked back by her hair and then her forehead was slammed into the window, knocking the daylights out of her and causing her to see stars.
“I said you could take a piss, not get stupid,” the man said in her ear just before her forehead was slammed again.
Julie was aware of the searing pain just before everything went black.
Chapter Eleven
Remmy arrived at the police station, right on time. She was ushered back to where the detectives’ desks were, as Detective Wong hadn’t come in yet and Detective Cowan was on a call. The other detectives there kept an eye on her as she wandered over to a case on the wall where various medals and trophies were displayed. They looked like softball trophies.
