THE INTERROGATION

There is nothing wrong with focusing on yourself, sweetheart.

***

CHAPTER LXV

*****

“Open your mouth!”

I peeled my eyes open, feeling confused at my surroundings. I was still in the container, everything was as it was and nothing seemed to have changed except this time time, I was the one on my knees.

With my hands tied behind my back, I turned to look at the man in front of me. His face was leering and his zipper was undone with his boxers pulled down to reveal what should have been his penis.

“Put it in your mouth.”

I looked back up at him, fear swarming in my stomach as I realised that it had all been a dream. A hopeful delirium. A mirage as some would say.

Apparently, I had taken too long to answer, and before I could even start pleading for my life, he had fired the gun and the sound of the bullet reverberated around the metal walls.

I shot up, snapping my eyes open as I looked around at my surroundings again.

I was alone. And I wasn't in the big, metal, rectangular box anymore.

I was in a... hospital room.

I was almost sure that I was dreaming about being rescued. So sure that I was willing to believe that my mind was still playing tricks on me. But then the door opened again and a policewoman accompanied by a policeman let themselves in.

The man made a beeline towards the corner of the room and the woman took a seat near the side of my bed as I watched them with suspicion. The lady smiled at me and extended her hand, but I shifted away from her, staring down at her extended hand as if it was going to hurt me if I wasn't careful.

She didn't seem affected by my response and instead turned to her partner, checking to see if he was documenting the whole interaction. He was writing into his notepad furiously so I assumed he was.

“I'm officer Nora Campbell, but you can just call me Nora. What's your name, sweetie?” she asked, but I still didn't respond.

I gulped, looking down at my hands. Should I trust her or should I not? What if this was all just a test that Daniel was giving me? What if he knew exactly where I was and he was testing me to see if I would speak up?

“Do you want me to get you some paper so you can write your name down?” she asked, but I gulped and shook my head.

“My name is Araceli,” I answered, having to clear my throat since it was croaky and scratched from lack of use.

“Hello, Araceli,” Nora said, smiling at me. “My partner, Paul,” she gestured to the man standing in the corner. “And I just want to ask you a few questions in regards to the incident. Do you remember what happened? Or am I not making sense to you?”

“I know what you're talking about,” I said before looking to them with fierce eyes. “I don't have amnesia.”

One more thing to add to my list of blessings. But maybe memories right now seemed to be a curse.

“That's good. We're just going to ask you some questions regarding that.”

Even as she spoke, I heard nothing. All I could think about was that dark place with that poor girl and those awful, awful people. I hoped the other people in the container with me were okay. I hoped they were all brought to really good hospitals and were being taken care of. I hoped she especially received all the love and care in the world.

I wanted them to suffer for what happened. For that poor girl... And everyone had to watch her do it. God.

I squeezed my hands into fists and squeezed my eyes shut as they continued interrogating me. My answers remained the same.

'I don't know.'

'I can't remember.'

And a few of the answers were honest, but the truth of the matter was that I wasn't emotionally invested into the interrogation. I knew they were going to do nothing. They may have been good people, but people like Daniel and Lucien didn't get caught.

They didn't get punished for their wrongdoings. If I wanted them to suffer, then I had to torture them myself instead of leaving it in the hands of the police. And as of right now, that wasn't a possibility.

Hours on the clock ticked by, but it felt like centuries. It was obvious that I was not cooperating but she just kept going. I felt bad for Paul's hands, although I doubted he was still noting down our conversation. He was probably making small doodles of cute cats and dogs all over his notepad.

I could've done with a cat. At least it would take my mind off of everything for a little while. And I would have something to take care of that depended on me. Like I had been stripped of so cruelly.

I placed my hand on my stomach and Nora's eyes followed my movements before meeting my eyes again.

“Most girls said that they had been in these men's captivity for months. Do you know how long you've been with them?”

I looked to her as she asked me this, thinking hard and trying to figure it out. Even if I didn't want to tell them, how much time had passed was something I struggled to understand ever since I had woken up on the truck. Was I with them for months, weeks or just days? I knew it had to be at least a week. The sun had gone down a couple times, but I wasn't counting down the seconds in my head.

“I don't know.”

“That's fine,” she said, not sounding bothered by my lack of help. I knew I wouldn't have cared even if it wasn't fine. I just wanted them all to go away so I could properly understand what hell just happened, what the hell was happening and what the hell was going to happen.

I felt so lost and they were only making it worse by being there, forcing me to remember shit that my body was trying so hard to block out.

“Would you be able to recognise the men involved in a line up or offer descriptions for a sketch?”

The image of that man - the awful man and what he had done to that girl flashed in my head - and I felt bile rise in my throat as my heart raced. I fisted the blanket, wanting to rid myself of his ugly smirking face and the sound of his disgusting voice but nothing worked. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it only got clearly.

The scene played out again in my mind as if I needed remembering and I grabbed my head, shaking from side to side.

“N-No. I can't,” I stuttered, snapping my eyes open and looking around my surroundings again, just to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

The officer reached out to place a comforting hand on me, but I scooted away in fear, eyes wide and chest heaving as I anticipated her next move.

I was so sure she was going to hurt me. She was going to cackle at me and call me an idiot and send me back to that place. I knew that was what she was going to do.

Instead, she gave me a sad smile which only aided in baffling me further. “That's okay.”

But it wasn't. I was being selfish. I knew I believed that they couldn't do anything to Daniel, but maybe they actually could and I was being paranoid. Why did I feel this deep need to protect him even when he had done so much to me? It was because I feared him, but could it have also been because I didn't want him to suffer? Was I so used to loving him and being walked over by him that I still did it and let it happen in his absence?

What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I just be normal and offer up the sketch. I knew exactly what every one of those men looked like. Why couldn't I just get overy stupid fear of them and do what needed to be done?

“It's okay, sweetheart. We understand that it's not easy to go through what you went through.”

In my moment of weakness, I looked up at here with watery eyes and asked, “Really?”

“Yes. It's okay to be feeling the way you're feeling and they're completely normal and valid. The most important thing is to just focus on yourself and get better.” She stood and glanced to her colleague briefly before looking back to me. “You rest up and then whenever you feel like speaking, come to me.”

I nodded and watched the both of them leave before looking down at my hands.

I was lost.

Mentally and physically because I had no idea where I was or where I was going. All I knew was that California wasn't my home anymore and I was officially homeless.

I looked around the hospital room, the fact that I was alone being the biggest thing that hit me. I was finally alone.

Fully, properly alone.

***

A man that I didn't know had his hand tightly gripping my bare arm, pulling me along as I struggled in his grasp with a sleeping baby in my other arm.

I knew I worked for the opposing team, but I wasn't a threat. The most I could do was break a vase over his head!

“I didn't do anything! I swear to God, if you don't let go of me...” I yelled, ready to threaten the living shut out of him when I met a familiar face standing in the kitchen with her scary boyfriend.

Morgan.

She sighed out dramatically before rushing over to me and taking the sleeping baby out of my arms. I honestly had no idea who the child was to them, but he obviously seemed to mean a lot.

How did Lucien even get his hands on their kid anyway?

The man pushed me forward into the kitchen, making me glare at him. I wanted to beat the absolute shit out of his stupid face, but I composed myself and turned back to the couple in front of me, ready to chop them to pieces.

If they were the one that had caused all of this havoc, I would be very pissed. Was it too much of me to ask that they run away and never come back after I risk my life helping her escape? What was this? Didn't they know that I could get killed?

“What are you doing here? Didn't you run away? Don't tell me you came back.”

Morgan didn't answer my question. Instead, she took me by surprise by wrapping her arms around me and pulling me in for a hug. I froze in shock, wondering why she was hugging me before breathing out and hugging her back. She then pulled away and looked right at me.

“Thank you for everything you've done for me,” she said. “When you met me, I was only a stranger to you. A rude stranger, but you still decided to help me because you were good. Promise me that you'll always remain good, because people like you are rare in the world.”

I honestly didn't expect that from her. Morgan was a rude stranger when I had first met her, yes, but she was a rude stranger in a house she didn't know being forced into prostitution by Lucien. I couldn't just not help her.

Especially when she had a cute son and a cool, but brooding boyfriend that loved her.

“And if you ever need anything,” she continued before picking up a pen and paper from the island. She quickly scribbled a sequence of numbers onto it before placing it in my palm. “I'm only one call away.”

“You should probably go. The place is too quiet to be safe right now,” Derek, her scary boyfriend, said as he placed a hand over hers. He gave me a grateful smile and I tried my best to return it without shitting myself. “Mario,” Derek called to one of his men. “Escort her to somewhere safe. Don't leave her until you know she's okay,” he said and the man nodded before taking my arm and pulling me away.

I shot up, my eyes wide as the number she had written on my hand flashed through my head again. The nurse that was in my room for some reason looked up and shot to my side in an instance, asking me what was wrong.

“I-I need to make a call. Right now.”

She looked like she was debating it, but I turned around to face her. “Please.”

With a sigh, she took a small phone out of her pocket and after unlocking it, she handed it to me.

I quickly dialed in the number in my head and prayed to God that I had remembered it right because this was my last hope at surviving here. I placed the phone on my ear after hitting call, but almost let out a cry of terror once I heard the tone.

“The number you are trying to call does not exist—”

“Ma'am, please. I'm going to need you to calm down,” the nurse said, trying to soothe me.

I didn't even realising that I had worked myself up, but I had good reason. The dream had only gotten my hopes up but if I was about to find out that it was all really nothing but a dream, then I would be crushed.

I heaved, my tears blurring my vision as I called the exact same number as if that would make any fucking difference.

“The number you are trying to—”

“Oh, God, please,” I begged, crying out for help as the phone shook violently in my hands.

“Ma'am, please. Give me the phone. You're working yourself up,” the nurse said, peeling the phone out of my hands.

I stared at it longingly, just wanting to somehow magic up the number but I knew it wasn't possible.

“I'm going to get you something that will calm you down.”

The nurse left and I let the sob that I was holding in out as the hopelessness of the situation came back to eat at me. Why did I think that it would work? When did things ever work for me?

Stupid dream. Just got my hopes up for nothing.

I replayed the dream in my head, cursing every scene before my thoughts came to a halt and my breathing hitched.

I had dialed six instead of eight.

Before I could control myself, I shot out of bed, ignoring the way my legs ached and burned as I rushed down the hallway to the nearest reception.

“Miss? Miss, where are you going?” A nurse asked, stopping me in my tracks.

I turned to her and with wide desperate eyes, I spoke. “Please, I need to make a call. This is urgent.”

She didn't hesitate in nodding. She latched onto my arm and helped me walk into the reception where they had a telephone for me to use. I picked it up and dialed in the number as quick as I could before I forgot it again.

The phone rang once, twice, three times—

“Hello! This is Morgan speaking!”

*****

I can't even begin to apologise for the amount of updates I've missed. I'm just going through something right now but I'm trying.

Jusy know that I'm never just going to leave this book hanging.