Page 88 of The Chosen
“Just try. Better yet… You killed him and escaped. Do you remember where you escaped from? Or how long the drive was when you first went to his house? Where were you living when you met him? Where was this convenience store?”
“Just outside of Fort Myers.”
“What about the car ride? How long was it?”
He pinched his lips together. “I can’t be sure. Maybe thirty minutes. But that doesn’t mean anything. It’s been over twenty years.”
“But it’s something. And right now, I’ll take something over nothing.” I moved toward the kitchen table and sat down, firing up Blake’s laptop, my fingers flying over the keyboard. “Can you remember anything else about it?”
“Not really. It was so long ago. I can’t even remember how far I walked after I killed him. Hours probably. I think I took a bus, too, since I eventually ended up in Philly. I just…”
“Can you tell me if it was in a residential community or a bit more remote?”
“Remote. Definitely remote. There were underground passages leading to the chapel, although it was more like a dungeon than a place of worship. Other than that, I can’t remember much. I’m trying, Henry. Really, I am.”
I glanced over my shoulder at him. “It’s okay. It’s a start. We’ll find this bastard. And when we do, we’ll make him pay.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Ariana
I couldn’t even manage to pull myself into bed. It hurt too much to move. Instead, I remained curled up in a ball on the floor, a part of me wishing this guy would just come back and put me out of my misery.
God, what did I get myself into? I should have listened to Henry. Shouldn’t have insisted on putting my life at risk.
What choice did I have, though? This was the only way.
Henry needed closure. Needed to find Sarah.
He might never have been able to if I hadn’t done this.
But was Sarah even here?
The idea she might not be made me sick, and I curled farther into myself, wishing I was back in Henry’s bed. In his arms. In his life. I feared that was no longer possible.
“I’m sorry, Henry,” I choked out. “So fucking sorry.”
“Don’t do that,” a voice cut through, followed by a knock.
I stiffened, holding my breath for several protracted moments.
Did I imagine it? Was I already losing my mind?
“Do what?” I asked hesitantly.
“Feel sorry for yourself. You need to hold on to your strength. Now more than ever.”
I pulled my legs closer, wincing through the permanent burn on my skin.
“Did he brand you?” she asked after a brief pause.
“Yeah.”
“Run some cool water over it. He probably has you chained, but you’ll have enough give to reach your bathroom. Cool water will help. Not ice cold. But it’ll help soothe it. As much as you won’t want to, sleep without your nightgown on for the next few days. It’ll prevent any irritation. And no matter what you do, don’t pop any of the blisters, even if they itch like crazy. It’ll only make it worse.”
“Thanks,” I offered softly. “Although I doubt I’ll sleep much here.”
“You should try. You need your strength.”
