Page 84 of Sinner's Malice
“Why?”
“Because she’s afraid of the water. Can’t swim.”
Torment nodded, then said, “So, the cove was your safe place?”
“I guess so,” I whispered. “Sometimes, I would show up and find a fresh blanket or a basket of food someone had left. One time, I found a coloring book and crayons. Towards the end, I spent more time at the cove than I did at home.”
“Why?”
“Because her drug dealer started looking at me. I didn’t like it.”
“And what did she do?”
I looked at Torment and sneered, “What do you think? She fucking sold me to Petrovitch.”
“You said you had friends. Tell me about them.”
I shrugged. “There is really nothing to say. They were friends. Now they’re not.”
Torment leaned forward, placing his notepad on the small table next to him, and sighed. “Silver, look at me.”
Doing as he asked, he said, “There weren’t any friends, were there?”
Gulping, I looked away.
I couldn’t answer him.
“I’m betting there wasn’t even a cove. I think you made it all up because you don’t want to tell me the real truth. What was your childhood really like, Arianwen?”
“It was shit, okay!” I shouted. “My cunt of a mother was more worried about her next fix than me. She hated me. Called me her valuable little spoiled rich bitch, which made no fucking sense, since we were poor. When she couldn’t get her fix, she enjoyed hitting me and whipping me. She tried to drown me more than once. She forced me to watch her fuck men. She forced me to buy her drugs, to steal her alcohol. I had to beg for food and no one in that fucking town cared. They would see me coming and look the other way. I was a kid, and they ignored me! Not even the priest at the local parish church would help me. I tried running away, but she always found me. The day those fucking Russian asshats showed up, I thought they might save me, but they didn’t. They wanted the money she owed them, and when she couldn’t pay, she offered me to them. I was thirteen years old! And she fucking sold me to them as if I were garbage.”
After my outburst, Torment ended the session, telling me I had said enough for the day. I hated that he saw right through my story. Fucking bastard was too damn good at what he did. Now, I was feeling like shit for lying to him in the first place. I hated he had made me remember crap I never wanted to think about again, but mostly I hated that I’d lied to him.
Leaving his office, I went to find Malice, only to see him in Montana’s office talking about club shit. Knowing he could be in there for a while, I headed for my safe place.
The bar.
There was something about sitting behind the bar, surrounded by the thick oak wood and bottles of booze that felt like home to me. It made absolutely no sense to me, but it was where I felt more comfortable. That and I had a bird’s-eye view of everything that happened in the club.
I had just gotten comfortable when my cell phone buzzed. Reaching into my back pocket, I grabbed it and flicked my finger across the screen to see I had received a text message. Opening the app, I saw it was Sinclair.
Sin:Meet around the back near the loading dock. Have a surprise for you.
Shoving my phone back in my pocket, I left the comfort of my bar and headed out back.
Opening the door, I saw a black Lincoln Town Car pull up and park, before Sinclair got out from behind the driver’s seat, smiling.
“Good afternoon, Little One.”
“Sinclair,” I replied, frowning. “Why are you here? Malice isn’t here, and Montana will not be happy to see you.”
The man pressed a button on his key fob and grinned. “Like I said. I have a surprise for you.”
“I hate surprises.”
“Not this one,” he said as the trunk of his car popped open to show me a woman bound and gagged.
Looking from the woman to him, I asked, “And who the hell is that?”