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Wrenched
  • Текст добавлен: 15 октября 2016, 02:14

Текст книги "Wrenched"


Автор книги: Emma James



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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 11 страниц)

The beatings, and the power that was taken away from her at such a young age, were hard to watch, but I had to make sure this girl was telling me the truth without a doubt.

She neglected to tell me she was locked up in the old slave cabin out back when the cleaners came to the house. She had been drugged and handcuffed to an old bed. I could hear William’s voice as I watched some footage. I only ever saw the back of him. He would carry her in already totally out of it and handcuff her.

I fast forwarded three hours and he would be back, calling her name and telling her the cleaners had gone, and then he would carry her unresponsive body back into the main house.

It made my skin crawl to see the young Whisper like that.

All the hard drives will be locked away in my safe. They are hers to do with what she wishes.

We were on a tight schedule with time, so we watched as many as we could, but the others would have to be watched away from here. No wonder Whisper took the last hard drive, so nobody would stumble across it. I can only imagine the nightmares it would contain.

My conscience is clear knowing I’ll be doing everything in my power to show her how to protect herself from now on. I’ve watched only moments in time, but at least I know about what Whisper is dealing with by herself, and we are now here to help her if she allows us to.

William was living under the town’s noses with his captive for nearly two decades. To have been able to uphold that secret is a pretty frightening thing.

Whisper’s life had been wrenched from her, but at least now the twisted fuck is well and truly dead. I have no doubt he would have eventually killed her, and nobody would have been able to mourn her.

That would have been a real sad fucking thing.

Miss Catherine would have already pictured in her mind what the girl had gone through, because she has her own horror stories locked in her mind. She knew straight away listening to the girl that I would be helping out, because somebody needs to try to right the wrongs that were rained down upon her.

With the help of my team, one member being a computer hacker genius, we cleared any personal files we deemed ‘too close to the subject’ from his computer, and we got necessary information off his phone. William was a smart man; he had deleted all messages, assuming he had any, because he lead a fairly hermit existence. He covered his tracks well. If I hadn’t observed the footage, I would never have believed the monster he was capable of being.

The time I spent doing this clean up job, Whisper stayed true to her word and didn’t run. I need a bit more time because now I have to convince her that I can help her and give her a new life, but I need time to think this through.

The three of us have been up for nearly forty-eight hours straight, catching a couple hours sleep on rotation until we had the job completed. When we weren’t at the house, we were at my bar in the back rooms, going through the files and hard drives we had taken. The files we retrieved had to be thoroughly examined to make sure nothing was going to come and bite us in the ass in the future with William’s untimely death.

Who did the house go to in the event of his death? I need to find these things out before his death is on record. I had my accomplices help me scour the files, and that’s when we found William’s will.

Thank God there were no surprises. There is a son, who will get the lot. Whisper is free to stay a secret. I took a copy of the will for my records, always being on the over-precautionary side. It has saved my ass on more than one occasion.

I think finally our job here is done. The stink of William Dupré is getting to be too much, so it’s time to leave and let everything play out naturally in a couple of days’ time.

We breeze out like we breezed in, without leaving a stitch of evidence we had been there.

We are that fucking good.

 



The past three days have really opened my eyes to the generosity and kindness of my new friends.

I asked Miss Catherine this morning to cut my hair shorter, because it was too long. She took a good foot off the bottom, and it was still too long, but I felt better for having that much cut off.

On the first day, in the afternoon, a big burly man a few years older than me introduced himself to Miss Catherine as Lincoln, and he was there on Boxer’s orders. He had brought over clothes for me from one of Boxer’s friends. He came to the door, but he did not come in.

I was a little overwhelmed this person was kind enough to share her jeans and shirts with me, and she didn’t even know me. It was a really nice feeling getting out of the clothes I had worn from the house. I was thin, and she was a little bigger than me, so the clothes were a little loose, but they felt like honest clothes.

Boxer had called Miss Catherine earlier that day to explain that Lincoln would be coming and going while he was working at Master William’s house and that he was discreet and trustworthy. Lincoln was polite and very unassuming with his presence. I felt safer with him being around.

Boxer wasn’t leaving us alone until he had everything sorted at Master William’s house. He let Miss Catherine know not to be alarmed if she sensed somebody watching, because he had a man outside at all times keeping us safe until he knew there was no danger.

I did not leave the house to go outside. I stayed indoors, where I felt protected by the walls, and it was what I was used to.

The second day, I mainly slept on the couch. I think my body was exhausted from the life I had led, always keeping my guard up.

Miss Catherine tried to feed me a lot, and I accepted a little. I was still wary, and she knew I needed my space. I was still processing this kind woman and my freedom. She didn’t raise her voice to me, and she didn’t order me around. She was patient and quiet with me. I didn’t know how to talk to people. Her actions spoke louder than words.

Miss Catherine tended to my hands and looked after me. My hands were healing, and I did end up taking some painkillers. They didn’t knock me out, and I learned it was okay to take these pills and feel relief from the pain. I was so used to coping with pain and riding it out that I knew no different.

I kept my pillowcase with my personal things by my side, and nobody tried to take them away from me.

Today was day three. I haven’t seen Boxer at all today. He would usually only drop by to check in on us for a short time, but he hasn’t arrived yet. I feel like I need that contact with him, even if it’s just for a short time. I know he has been working hard to erase me from the life I’d led. He had explained, to my great relief, that I would remain a secret.

I feel so much confusion that this man would do this for me, when he didn’t know me.

Lincoln just arrived; I can hear him talking quietly with Miss Catherine. To my astonishment, I find I had been looking forward to seeing him, but Boxer still hasn’t shown up. I’m worried about him.

I don’t have long to dwell on my worries because Miss Catherine finds me where I’m sitting, watching the sun draw its shade down on another uneventful fear-free day through the back window. It’s a favorite place for me to sit. She gently takes my hand with a knowing smile on her face and leads me to a spare room upstairs.

“’Chile, I hope you like it,” she says, and I let out a little noise of surprise. “I had a little help, of course, from Boxer and Lincoln.” She explains to me they had organized a few things to be brought over by Lincoln, who is already assembling what looks to be a big bed. He has all the parts laid out and is working away as Miss Catherine brings me into the room. I can tell she is very pleased with herself. “Now, I think it’s settled that you will be stayin’ with me until you are ready to be leavin’, so it seemed right to give you your own privacy. This will be your very own room from now on, if it be pleasin’ you.”

The one thing I know for sure is I am okay with staying with Miss Catherine. “Thank you, it does.” I feel shy and awkward about what everybody is doing for me, but I keep my mouth shut and don’t fight it.

I realize now Miss Catherine has been letting me get my bearings, and she didn’t want to put too much pressure on me to stay. She had been playing it very casual, and now she wants to make it a more permanent arrangement.

Lincoln was what Miss Catherine called a real gentle giant. He had been making sure not to come too close to me, and he would often give me a wink when he caught me watching him, just like Boxer does. Now, I’m standing here, staring at this man from the safety of the doorway, while he puts my new bed together for me. I feel a lump in my throat for the things everybody has been doing for me. If I could cry, I think I would have. I turn to thank Miss Catherine again, but she has quietly snuck off to leave me to it.

Lincoln likes to hum to himself while he does things for Miss Catherine, like chopping wood for the fire and now putting the bed together. I like hearing him being happy. He is indeed a gentle giant.

He gets up and goes out to his pickup truck and brings in more boxes, while I stand staring at my new room. The boxes he brings in are side tables, and he asks if I want to help him put one together.

And the next hour passes quickly as we set to work.

Lincoln sang songs softly to himself that I didn’t know, while I watched what he did with his side table and I copied him with the other. He has a nice voice. It felt good to make something. He would encourage me when I had trouble with the screws, but he didn’t once take over or touch me. I could use my hands a lot more now, and my wrists were getting better.

I stole glances at his handsome face. He really looked happy singing. He had a soft mop of blond hair that flopped over his eyes while he worked away. He would keep pushing it off his face until I took one of the hair ties out of my hair, which Boxer had brought over in a small box of my personal things and offered it to him. He smiled and took it from my outstretched hand, being careful not to touch me too much, and tied it up on top of his head. He looked real nice.

I noticed for the first time that this is the closest I have been to Lincoln, and he has the bluest, kindest eyes. He’s only the third man I have ever met, and I don’t feel fear around him. He puts me at ease with his body language.

Miss Catherine entered the room with an iced tea for both of us and then she discreetly left us alone again. I really like iced tea. I always made sure I tidied up after myself and brought any dishes back to the kitchen, cleaned them up, and put them away. I was used to making sure everything was always in its place.

I liked Miss Catherine, and I realized how much I didn’t want to leave her because she is kind and generous. I felt like I would upset her if I chose to leave. I could see how much she enjoyed showing me things and having my company. I enjoyed her company too. I didn’t feel lonely anymore. I could stay here a little longer until I had worked things out for myself.

Once the tables had been put together, Lincoln went back outside and came in with armfuls of bedding in packages. He didn’t hesitate to make my bed up for me. He ignored my protests, and I simply stood in the corner and watched him. I didn’t know what to say to a man doing things for me. He just kept on singing or humming as he made the space look like a female’s room. The sheets were white and soft-looking, and the bed covering had pretty flowers on it. I had four fluffy pillows and one fancy smaller column-shaped pillow as decoration. The side tables had pretty lights sitting on top of them by the time Lincoln was finished.

Now, as a final touch, he turns one of the lamps on. He looks very pleased with himself when he is done, standing back and looking at his handiwork.

“Thank you,” I whisper to Lincoln.

“You’re welcome.”

I’m curious. “Where is Boxer?” I whisper to him. I’m still learning I can talk freely if I want to. Old habits die hard.

Lincoln gives me a dimpled smile because it’s the first time I’ve spoken more than one sentence to him in such a short time without him asking me a question.

“He had to run an overnight errand, but he will be back tomorrow.” He then changes the topic. I don’t miss what he just did. “I’m going to be staying indoors watching after you and Miss Catherine from now until he tells me otherwise. I need the couch to sleep on, so we needed to make you more comfortable. She picked out these things, and Boxer ordered them online for you.”

I feel panicked that I can’t pay them back and I start fidgeting, not sure how to fix how I’m feeling, so I blurt out, “I have no money to pay for it all.” My heart starts speeding up and my eyes dart around at all the things in the room. It hadn’t even crossed my mind when the room was being put together how much it would have all cost, because I was too busy listening to Lincoln. Now, it has all come crashing down on me. I feel overwhelmed.

“Hey, Whisper. What’s all this about? You’ve gone from relaxed to looking like you are gonna bolt.” Lincoln’s holding my hand and rubbing his thumb slowly over it. My wandering mind starts to calm. It’s the first time he’s touched me, and I don’t want to pull my hand away.

“I can’t pay for all this. How am I going to pay for it? What will I have to do to pay for it all? I was happy to sleep on the couch. I didn’t need all this.” My free hand waves about the room.

“Hold on a minute. You don’t think you have to repay them, do you?” Lincoln’s trying to keep eye contact with me.

I know my eyes have gone wide in confusion, because I’m shocked by all their generosity. I have done nothing to earn any of these things.

I snatch my hand back from Lincoln’s and stumble to my feet. “I have to speak to Miss Catherine.” I go to leave, but his hand snakes around my waist loosely, holding me steady, but not imprisoning my body, and it’s not intimate.

“Whoa there, Whisper. Where’s the fire?” Once I’ve stilled, he lets me go and faces me. “Don’t take this away from Miss Catherine and Boxer. They both felt you deserved a little happiness in the form of your own space, where you can come and go as you please. Miss Catherine had great fun picking out everything for this room. A simple thank you will be all that she will be requiring from you.”

I look up into his kind face to make sure he means what he just said, and I see he does. I change the subject. “Why are we being watched?”

“This is just a precaution until Boxer knows what he’s dealing with, when it comes to William Dupré. There are a lot of unknown facts at the moment. He doesn’t like surprises.”

“Um, okay. I’m just going to go talk to Miss Catherine and thank her. Um...Lincoln, thank you too, for putting everything together for me. It really looks nice.”

“Made my day to see you happy.”

I can see he means those words. I head on down the stairs, taking the iced tea glasses with me, and find Miss Catherine in the kitchen, making dinner. When Miss Catherine showed me my new room, I wasn’t sure how to respond. She doesn’t know me and she is offering me a room under her roof. This is too much. I have the money I had taken from William in my back pocket, and I pull it out and put it on the kitchen table quietly. I had only taken forty-seven dollars and some coins from Master William’s house, and I didn’t know how I was going to use it. This seems like the right thing to do. Then I quietly walk over to the sink and place the glasses in it, ready to wash.

“You can leave those. I be cleanin’ them up and you can go and enjoy that room of yours,” she tells me. Her eyes seek out the money on the table, but she doesn’t comment on it.

“Okay,” I reply, my usual response when she suggests I do something. Then I take a couple steps back away from Miss Catherine while she watches me. I clear my throat because Miss Catherine likes me to speak up. “Thank you, Miss Catherine, for the room and everything in it. It’s very nice.” My face is heating up at the look she’s giving me. She is so happy, and I can’t repay her for being so kind. I don’t know what else to do with myself, so I smile back awkwardly and then flee back up to my new room.

Lincoln has left, so I go find my pillowcase, pull out Jenny, and place her in the center of the bed. I open the drawer of the side table and place the hard drive inside, and then I put my copy of The Wind in the Willows on top of the bedside table.

When Lincoln had brought over my clothes and toiletries from the house, I had pulled out just a few basic things and kept them out of necessity, placing the rest by the front door for them to take away. I didn’t want to wear anything that gave me a bad memory. The box with my remaining clothes had already been set on the floor of my new room.

Just as I’m about to undo it, Lincoln calls up to me from the bottom of the stairs in his deep voice, “Whisper, I have one more thing I need to bring up for you, and I’m going to need help doing it. Could you please come down and meet Joel?” He waits for me to reply, but I’m a little stunned at what else I could possibly need. “He’s a friend of Boxer’s too.” As a way of explanation, he adds, “It’s too large for me by myself.”

I’m very curious as to what he couldn’t bring up on his own. I walk down the stairs, and Miss Catherine is standing there, waiting for me with an even bigger smile on her face, if that’s possible.

“Honeychile, I had this old French antique armoire in storage, and one of Boxer’s men has been workin’ on it for the past few days. I was hopin’ you would like to use it in your new room. I did take the liberty of assumin’ you might be stayin’ with me. I hope you don’t mind?”

My eyes almost bug out of my head at this enormous piece of beautifully carved furniture. It’s painted in a creamy white, but a funny texture, with two doors which opened with a key. The wood, you can tell, has been carved by a loving hand.

Miss Catherine starts explaining the paint is called the distressed look, and very French, and then I notice the man standing by Lincoln. He has dark hair, and it’s neatly cut short. He’s tall, lean, and very strong looking, but not big and burly like Lincoln. He’s watching me carefully through his black-framed glasses, which make him look a bit like Clark Kent.

“Hey, I’m Joel. Nice to meet you, Whisper.” He’s very handsome, and he gives me a little wave and a genuine smile.

I can’t help but smile a little shyly back at him. I can see Lincoln grinning away next to him, and that makes me smile a little bigger. Miss Catherine has walked over to me and moved me aside, so the men can get the armoire up to my room.

“I love it, Miss Catherine, thank you.” Again, I’m almost lost for words. I don’t quite know what else to say to her.

“Hush now, child. You don’t need to be sayin’ anythin’ to me. I know it’s all a bit overwhelmin’ for you. I just wanted you to be havin’ some nice, feminine things for yourself. Every young lady needs her own room and a place to be storin’ her clothes. The look on your face is enough.” She pats me carefully on the arm. “You go up once they be finished and make use of that fine piece of furniture. That is all the thanks I’ll be needin’.”

I feel a tiny bit of excitement when I close myself in my new room, and I hope never to wake up from this fairy tale dream because this really can’t be my reality.

How could my life be so wrong, and then feel so right in such a short time?

 



William Dupré is dead.

Now, isn’t this fucking interesting news?

I have to roll this about in my brain for a minute or two, letting the words sink in.

William. Is. Dead.

Huh.

“Didn’t see that coming,” I can’t help saying it out loud, because I’m quite fucking stunned at this information. I’m even pacing my office, trying to let my mind accept what I’m reading.

William has kicked it. And that’s a damn shame for me.

The report shows approximate time of death, and he had been well and truly pissed, sozzled, drunk, inebriated at the time of his death. The cleaners, when they got no reply to their insistent knocking, tried the front door. Look at that, it was unlocked, and they entered the house to be met with the smell of death and William’s lifeless body. He had enough alcohol in his system to allow himself to be pushed down those stairs by that little bitch he kept.

Oh, I know it all.

I’m his lawyer, and he paid me well to keep my mouth shut. I’m well connected to the people he’s connected to. There was no way either of us could double cross each other without severe repercussions. I would not want that wrath to come down on my head, and as wicked as William was, nor would he.

William, the clever monkey, had made allowances for his untimely death if that little bitch ever got the upper hand. His ego doubted it, but nonetheless, he still made arrangements. Even if he was stupid enough to fall down those stairs in his drunken stupor himself, he made sure she would not escape into the night like a ghost, which is what she has indeed appeared to have done.

Score one point to Whisper.

I know William had cameras around his home, and they must have all been taken care of, absolute proof of his cause of death never to be discovered. Nothing came out in the police report about anybody living in that home other than William.

Clever little bitch covered up her tracks.

Clever little bitch got her freedom.

Or so she thinks.

I knew her years were numbered. The one thing that sick son of a bitch didn’t allow for was the tapes. His ego was far too saturated with her submissive, ‘yes, Master’ behavior.

He was only fifty-one years old, fit as an ox, no health issues what-so-fucking-ever, and kept under the radar of any danger to his person. He was expected to have a long life ahead of him. Her heart would have stopped beating once William was finished with her.

He’d hedged his bets on outliving her. I’d warned him. I’d told him to keep the footage off-site, but he was a glutton for Whisper, and the inconvenience of viewing her off-site was simply too much in his mind’s eye.

She was as good as gold, he’d said. Did everything she was told.

William had bragged to me all the time of the goings on in that home. He had nobody to tell. He needed to boast and preen his peacock feathers as he strutted around my office, while I sat there mostly aroused, listening until I asked for proof. It would cost me some of the payment he gave me to shut me up about his affairs, but it was sure worth it. Each month, I got to see some footage. He’d only started showing me from the time she’d turned eighteen. I’d only found out about the girl when he couldn’t contain himself any longer and he’d needed to reveal his sick little sordid stories to somebody.

Where’s the fun in keeping it all to yourself, when you can’t brag about it?

Now, the police have come and gone, I find it interesting there’s no mention of anything linking William to his dark past. No mention of the little bitch, no mention of any tapes. She has to have had help. His home must have been wiped clean.

How fucking convenient.

She got the upper hand.

Who else knows she was there?

I do not mourn him. The only thing I will regret is my monthly footage to watch of that little beauty. I was paid in cash, so there’s no link to me other than I’m his law-abiding lawyer. But then, I’m a lot of people’s lawyer. There was nothing strange about my working relationship with William Dupré...to the outside world.

Sitting down in my office chair, I put my feet up on my table, hold William’s file up, and can’t help smiling to myself. He really was a sick fuck, but a very organized one.

It’s time for me to play William’s last cards. I have some detective work to do first, and once that’s done, I will get out of Dodge for a while and lay low.

The orchestra is going to play William’s last song, and he is the conductor.

In other words, the shit is going to hit the fan.

William sure knew how to keep me entertained.

 


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