Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 134741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Gem gave me a quick look.
I nodded, reaffirming my promise that I wouldn’t say anything. I still hadn’t embraced my newfound freedom, but it didn’t mean I wanted to have it snatched away by being thrown in jail.
No fucking way.
Gemma’s heat seeped through my fingers, grounding me as my headache faded a little.
Last night, I’d had another nightmare.
Unlike the previous nights where I stayed where I slept, this time, I’d woken in a full sweat just outside her bedroom door. I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten there or what I would’ve done if I’d climbed into bed with her, but one thing was for sure, my mind was now connected to my heart, and she was off-limits.
Something had woken me before I went too far.
Something inside me fought to keep her safe.
So that was how I’d ended up sleeping outside.
I’d let fresh air blow away the sickening images in my head. It reminded me that I was far, far away from Fables, and this was a new start.
I was free.
And I’m going to stay free.
I glowered at the police as Gem asked politely, “What can we help you with, Officers?”
I clutched her shoulder, doing my best to stay calm. I didn’t know if the pills the doctor gave me were working, but by touching her, my heart rate slowed a little. I stood a little taller, embracing the fact that I was here with Gem, I was free, and I had every fucking right to be happy.
“My name is Brandon Miles, and this is my partner, Gail Pulman.” the young guy cop said, his fancy uniform worn with pride. “Mr. Sands, we understand from the previous interview that you were abducted and held in the house that was destroyed by the fire last week. You were imprisoned there for most of your childhood and teenage years, is that correct?”
Gem glanced at me over her shoulder, her eyes glowing with affection and care. Holding her stare, I nodded and cleared my throat. “That’s right.”
“And Kassen Sands isn’t your real name. But you don’t remember any other?”
“Yes.”
“We’ve had a team investigate what’s left of the house. The rubble has no forensics or obvious clues. In fact, what does remain doesn’t paint a comprehensive picture at all. There are no documents or other evidence that will lead us to the man you named Stuart Page, also known as....” He consulted his notes. “The Storymaker.”
That’s because I burned all the paperwork eleven years ago with the intention of keeping my family safe, only to forget everything I’d memorized thanks to a guy kicking me in the head.
Jareth was the one rescuing our family, but I was the one who’d condemned them to never finding their true homes, all because I’d destroyed any mention of their origins.
I bristled, stepping into the fib Gemma had convinced me to repeat. “I’m sorry, that’s all I know.”
“You don’t remember being trafficked? You don’t remember the faces of the people holding you? Overheard conversations of locations, names, or how they were running the operation?”
I stiffened and shook my head. “I’m sorry.”
The young cop gave me a look that said he didn’t believe me, but his partner referred to her own notes and asked, “The sex ring that you were a member of, you said that closed down over a decade ago?”
I ground my teeth.
I wasn’t a member of a sex ring. I was a slave. Fuck’s sake, there’s a difference.
Gem sucked in an angry breath.
I answered before she could defend me. “Yes,” I hissed. “It shut down eleven years ago.”
“And you said the ringleader just upped and left? That you don’t know what happened to the other men and women in power? Nor what happened to any of the guests who used to visit you?”
My nostrils flared as truth soured my tongue.
They’re exactly where they deserve to be.
Rotting in hell.
Gemma put her hand over mine, squeezing gently, prompting me to force a grimace and answer, “I don’t.” I swallowed hard. Fuck, it was hard not to tell them everything. Not to give them explicit details of those bastards. Every birthmark, every fetish, every sick, twisted, and depraved piece of them. I wanted the families of the guests to be named and shamed. I wanted to speak out so my loved ones could be vindicated and found.
I didn’t want anyone else to go through what we had.
I wanted men and women like the Fables members to be yanked from their homes, molested, tortured, and hung in a public setting.
But...I had to swallow every sour truth down because Gem was right. I had been fully within my right to kill those motherfuckers—I would do it all over again if I could—but the law would never see it that way.
And I would not go to prison for them.
Ever.
“And why did you stay after they left? What was the purpose of living all alone?”