Page 466 of Once Upon a Fable

Why does that sound like a threat?

She smiled. “However, before we go, is there anything else you can tell us that would be prudent to our investigation? Anything at all?”

I shook my head. “No. We said what we needed to the doctors and police at the hospital.”

The police looked at one another. Questions still existed in their shrewd stares, but they put away their notepads and stood. “Okay then. We’ll be in touch as we gather more information.”

“No problem. You know where to find us.” Gemma headed toward the door, unable to hide her impatience to have them gone. “Thanks for stopping by.”

The cops looked me up and down, a tight smile on their faces. “Thanks for your time, Mr. Sands.”

“No problem.”

The male stuck out his hand, waiting for me to shake.

The thought of touching anyone who wasn’t Gem, especially a guy? Fuck me, it took every willpower to lock my knees, insert my hand into his, and stay human as his fingers tightened around mine.

Sweat broke out as my instincts roared to strike or run.

Letting me go, he tipped his chin down. “Goodbye.”

I tripped a little to the side as my heart rate galloped and the room spun.

Christ, if I reacted this way to every person I had to touch, maybe I was what the cops said: a danger to the neighborhood.

Gem shifted closer to me, subtly giving me her body to lean against in case my vision went completely white.

“We’ll be in touch.” The woman smiled thinly and stepped out of Gemma’s house. Her partner followed a few steps behind.

I didn’t breathe properly until the police were down the driveway and Gemma closed the door.

Silence.

Peace.

I sucked in a heavy breath, doing my best to shed the panic still racing in my blood from the guy’s touch.

Our eyes met.

We shrugged as if we were both a little lost.

Gemma was the first to recover, rubbing both hands over her face. “Argh, they’ll come back. I know they will. We need to come up with an iron-clad story, Kas. There are way too many holes in that one. The fact that traffickers just upped and left without taking you with them or killing you? And they haven’t even asked about any other kids being held there. Is it because the house was so badly burned there’s literally no evidence of others, or do they know something we don’t?”

White spots danced over my eyes as my body continued to tremble a little. I shivered as she walked into my arms. “Do you think they’ll come back for me?”

She buried her face into my chest. “I don’t know. But I think it’s important that we make it so they can’t pin any of this on you.”

“And how do we do that?” I inhaled the sweet scent of her hair, missing the smell of papaya and woodsmoke from the valley. Now, she smelled like berries and something else I couldn’t decipher.

She stayed quiet for a long time before leaning back in my arms and catching my stare. Her eyes were narrowed and full of hazel fire. “We use the online world to protect us. We’ll post videos—not only about climbing and survival tips but also the truth about what happened to you. The ease at how children are abducted every day. How this isn’t something crazy that happened but something that occurs all the time under people’s noses. We are all responsible for letting this happen to you. People need to see rapists hiding in their midst. They need to know that their husbands and wives going on long ‘work trips’ might not be who they think they are.” Her cheeks pinked. “We’ll help Jareth, not by telling the police that there are others out there but by telling normal people. We’ll tell them to keep their eyes open, to suspect and not be afraid if they see something that makes their instincts prickle. We’ll teach them to help protect anyone who’s been trapped and abused...just like you protected your family.”

* * * * *

I inhaled lush, green air and lay back in the damp grass. It wasn’t exactly warm and the sun cast autumn shadows, hinting that in another hour or so, darkness would once again descend. However, I hadn’t felt peace like this in a while.

Three weeks I’d lived at Gemma’s house.

Three weeks of taking my meds, attending a therapist session, and sleeping on the couch or in the backyard, depending on my nightmares. I’d hoped the filth inside my head would’ve stopped by now. I was happy. I had Gem. The cops hadn’t returned, and I hadn’t been forced to touch other strangers.