Page 33 of Hunting Justice
Air refused to fill her lungs. Why had she thought Jonah wouldn’t eventually ask? A stupid move on her part. She stared at the gruesome image of her cut flesh and chewed on the inside of her lips. Did she tell him?
“Elle, look at me.”
Her gaze drifted to his.
“I’ve never asked, and you don’t have to say anything. But I’d love it if you’d trust me.”
His brown eyes held a depth of compassion that sent a rush of tears to the surface. “I…um…” She’d never told anyone except the detectives investigating the crime. Of course, her parents and her therapist knew, plus she’d told Lizzie the basics, but she’d always glossed over the details to everyone but the police officers. Could she reveal the ugly scars of her past—emotional as well as physical? She inhaled. “This serial killer is personal.”
“You know the first victim?”
A humorless laugh escaped. “Know? Oh yeah, I know her.”
“Who is it?” Jonah waited for her response, not rushing her.
Every cell in her being screamed at her to stay quiet. But this was Jonah. The man she’d shared more with in the past ten months than she’d shared with anyone else in her life. She blew out a long breath and steeled her spine. “It’s me.”
His eyes widened, but the silence in the room lingered.
A two-year-old required to sit still had nothing on Noelle. She forced herself to stay seated, but the lack of reaction gnawed at her. “Please, say something.”
“But you’re here. Not dead.” He waved a hand at the wall.
That’s what he’d taken away from her confession? “By a freak accident, I escaped.” More like a gift from God.
He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. “I’d like to hear about it, if you’re willing to share.”
She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. Sharing with him might be the hardest thing she’d ever done. Was she willing to chance his disgust once he knew the truth? “Are you sure you want to hear this?”
“You’ve always fascinated me, but now…” He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. His palm brushed along her jawline before he reclaimed her hands. “Yes, I want to know. Besides, I have a feeling you haven’t talked about it since it happened. I’d be honored if you told me everything.”
His touch sent tingles racing over her skin. What would it be like to feel his caress as more than a friend? The black hole in her stomach grew. She’d never have a romantic relationship with him or anyone, but Jonah deserved to know the truth about her past.
Mind made up, she took three long breaths, then faced him. “It’s not pretty.”
“I’ve seen the photos and heard you talk about the reports. I don’t expect it to be.” His hands remained wrapped around hers.
She cleared her throat. “I was seventeen at the time. I loved hanging out with my friends. It was a Friday evening, and we’d gone to the local mall. Time got away from us. Before we knew it, it had gotten dark outside. My friends had parked on the other side of the mall. I told them goodbye and headed to my car. The minute I left the store, my internal warning bells went off.”
“But you didn’t listen to them,” Jonah stated.
“Exactly.” She slipped her left hand out from under his and rubbed the scars on her upper arm through her shirt. “I’ve never made that mistake again.”
“I imagine not.” He gave her a sad smile.
“I headed for my car. I was two steps away—almost to safety?—when a hand closed over my mouth and a needle jabbed into my neck. I tried to fight, but by then it was too late.” Her body shook and tears dripped from her chin.
Jonah wiped the wetness from her face with his thumb. “Easy, Elle.”
The simple touch calmed her—kept her grounded in the moment. She sucked in a breath. “When I woke up, he had me strapped to a chair with a plastic tarp spread out underneath me. At first it didn’t dawn on me why the floor was covered. The drugs hadn’t left my system yet. Once the haze wore off, the reality of my situation hit hard. I panicked. I struggled against the restraints, but it was worthless.” Her heart rate spiked to stroke level.
“You can stop if it gets to be too much.” Jonah’s soft tone held so much empathy she about turned into a blubbering mess.
She glanced down at their hands and took a deep breath, settling her pulse. “No. You need to know.”
“I’m listening.”
“Let’s just say that over the next four days, the man who’d abducted me used his fists and enjoyed using a knife.” She pointed to the pictures on the wall. Each victim had cuts on their upper arms and across the upper part of their chests.