Bare It All
Page 32The silence grew heavier, almost suffocating. Reese tried to get into cop mode, to think logically instead of with emotion. “You said he. It was a man who took you?”
“A man that had me taken.”
“Did you know him?”
She shook her head—and curled tighter. “No.”
His heartbeat thundered. He wanted to pull over and hold her, console her. Make absurd promises that he wasn’t sure he could keep.
But he didn’t dare interrupt the moment of confession.
He needed to know.
Keeping his tone calm, no-nonsense, Reese asked, “Do you know why he took you?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t elaborate. As a man, he wanted to let it go, to see the wary shadows lift from her gaze. But as a cop, logic won out and he forced himself to push for more. “What did he make you do, Alice?”
“The one thing I’m good at.” She swallowed hard. “I had to be his secretary.”
That...didn’t make a lot of sense. Reese spared her a quick glance and saw that she’d huddled into a small, vulnerable form—as far from him as she could get.
The sun peeked out from behind the clouds, reflecting off all the wet surfaces. Steam rose in suffocating waves. Birds came out to sing.
“You were probably already digging into my past.”
“I was.” Reese saw no reason to deny it. He was a detective, and she knew it.
“You’d have found out, anyway.” Her shoulders lifted on a big breath. “But I don’t like talking about it.”
“That’s why you avoid your family?”
She nodded. “I can’t bear to trouble them with my...unpleasantness. They’re so happy, burdening them with the real worries of life, the life I now know exists, doesn’t seem fair.”
“A life with kidnappers?”
A rainbow stretched across the sky. His tires hit a puddle in the road, causing a big splash.
Alice drew in a shaky breath, looked at him. “A life with human traffickers.”
Reese’s blood ran cold. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “That’s what he was?”
“He pretended to be a hotshot businessman. And I guess he was that, too. But he also bought and sold women.” She paused, chewed her bottom lip a moment. “I haven’t told many people about it.”
She nodded. “You’re a detective, so you already see stuff like this. You can deal with it.”
“Yes.” But she thought her family couldn’t? “You can tell me anything, remember?” Screw keeping an emotional distance. He reached for and found her hand. “You won’t burden me.”
Her fingers locked on his. “I told my family just a little of it, and they were so sick. My sister had nightmares, my mom cried. And my dad...” Big tears clung to her lashes, and her words thickened with heartache. “My sweet, gentle dad broke his hand punching the wall.”
Reese could picture it in his mind; too many times he’d witnessed fathers trying to deal with the loss or injury of a child. “I can’t imagine a dad reacting any other way.” Her shuddering indrawn breath wrenched him. “That’s not your fault, honey. That’s human nature.”
“That’s loss of innocence. That’s reality—a reality few ever have to face.” Easing her hand away from him, she sat up straighter and pushed back her hair. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Not right now.”
He needed to know more. He needed the kidnapper’s name, and he had to know if justice had been served.
Because if it hadn’t, he’d be taking care of that himself.
He considered everything she’d shared, and he pieced together what he could.
For over a year, she’d been forced to act as a secretary to a scumbag trafficker. Inconceivable.
She hadn’t been raped. She had escaped. How? Who had helped her?
They were almost to the grocery store, and Alice trembled all over. If he pushed her any further, she’d lose her fragile grip on control. As a detective, he knew that could get him answers; people spilled their guts in moments of weakness.
Not to Alice.
Mind made up, Reese reached for her hand again. He needed the brief contact, whether she did or not. “You can relax, honey. We’ll put it on hold for now.”
Her rigid shoulders drooped. She squeezed his hand like a lifeline. “Thank you.”
Reese felt like an abusive ass, but he nodded to accept her...gratitude.
Shit. He wanted many things from Alice, but not that. Not even close. Definitely not over confessions he’d wrung from her.
As he parked in the grocery lot, she opened her seat belt, then hesitated until he’d turned off the car. Uncertainty filled her dark-eyed gaze. “You know, once you’ve heard it all, it’ll probably change everything.”
He realized he was learning to read her, to understand what she didn’t say. “You mean how I feel about you?”
“Yes.” And then, a little self-conscious, “Whatever it is you feel.”
He felt plenty, all of it unfamiliar and disconcerting. “Somehow, I doubt it, but I guess we’ll find out.” He leaned forward, brushing his mouth over hers. “In the meantime, you might try trusting me, okay?”
Instead of agreeing, she touched her fingertips to her lips, let out a pent-up breath—and turned to get out of the car. Reese had to hurry to catch up with her.