A lawyer?
Really?
Even legal dramas on television, where every character was played by an unrealistically attractive actor, wouldn’t have been able to pass off Kitt as a lawyer. Sure, he looked professional, with his polished shoes and bespoke suit. He even had a pair of wire-framed glasses perched on his nose to complete his “intellectual” look, but the man was hotter than sin and his every gaze turned into a smolder. Not to mention he was built like a Greek statue.
If this man was a lawyer on top of everything else, then life truly wasn’t fair. One person did not need to be blessed in so many ways.
After I’d agreed to become a witness, I’d done as much research as I could into the bell ringer case. Because of this, nothing Kitt said next surprised me. I already knew that the case was struggling, mainly due to the fact that they had no one to directly blame. Senator McLeod was already dead, and all the other names that they’d been able to dig up so far were clearlyjust lackies following orders. If they wanted to take down the bell ringers, they needed the leaders, not just low-level managers.
That was where witnesses like us came in. We had firsthand experiences with the bell ringers and could, hopefully, point the investigation toward specific people.
Once he’d explained everything, Kitt relinquished the floor to anyone who wanted to speak up. It reminded me of the group therapy sessions I’d attended at the recovery center, where everyone sat around in a circle and recounted their own experiences. It had always shocked me how reluctant people were to reveal anything at those sessions, often speaking so vaguely that it was impossible to tell what they were actually speaking about. It seemed like such a waste. The recovery center was an opportunity to heal and grow.
Why get in the way of that by continuing to keep secrets?
I expected this meeting with the other witnesses to be different. Everyone was there specifically to stand as a witness against the bell ringers. Yet, to my surprise, as I listened to the other’s stories, I found it no different than the meetings at the recovery center.
Clay went first, telling the story of how he’d been kidnapped by the bell ringers from his home as a child. How he’d immediately been put into “service” and kept locked away for years until he eventually grew too old for the bell ringers’ “taste” and was lucky enough to be set free, rather than killed and disposed of.
Thomas’s story was similar. He was also kidnapped from his home when he was young, but in his case, he’d managed to escape on his own after several years of captivity rather than being set free.
The two sisters, Madison and Maria, had a different story. They were eighteen and nineteen years old, and I could tell as soon as I saw them that they weren’t victims in the same waythat Clay and I were. Instead, their brother had been the bell ringer’s target. Apparently, something had gone wrong during the boy’s kidnapping, and the two sisters had been taken as well. Three people going missing from one family had caused a huge manhunt, which eventually led to all three of them being rescued, but the sisters had still gotten a good look at several of their kidnappers. Their brother was too young to be a reliable witness and was currently staying at a recovery facility to heal from the abuse he’d unfortunately suffered. So, the sisters had agreed to speak up for him on his behalf to ensure that the people who harmed their brother were punished.
When the sisters finished speaking, both visibly upset from their memories, Kitt encouraged them to take some time to calm down and thanked them for their help.
I scoffed, making an audible huffing sound that drew everyone’s attention. I hadn’t meant to do something so rude, but I couldn’t help it. This whole conversation seemed so pointless.
Clay gave me a pointed look, clearly trying to tell me to be quiet without saying so out loud. However, his signals were interrupted when Thomas stood from his chair to face me.
“Have you got a problem?”
“What, no,” I hurried to explain.
“Really, because it seems like you’ve got something to say.”
I should have just apologized and left it at that, but his judgmental gaze rubbed me the wrong way. After spending so many years playing along with what my captors wanted from me, my internal pendulum had swung the opposite way. Now that I was free and living under my own power, I never knew when to hold my tongue and couldn’t help challenging people.
Rolling my eyes, I shrugged off Thomas’s accusation.
“Well, someone had to say something.” I checked my watch. “We just spent an hour talking, but no one has said anythingthat’s of any use. These investigators already know how you were taken and things like that. I know it’s hard to talk about. Trust me, I’ve been there. But they need details that they can actually use, not just vague stories.”
Clay’s hand brushed my arm, trying to offer comfort. “Hey, Jordy. Maybe we should all take a step back and calm down. If you don’t want to talk about things, you don’t have to right now.”
Before I could correct Clay that I wasn’t scared to talk, just confused why everyone was being so vague, one of the other witnesses cut me off.
“Well, I’m sorry our memories aren’t detailed enough for you. I’m afraid none of us bothered to take notes while we were being abused.”
Thomas was several inches taller than me, and when he stood with his arms crossed, he seemed larger than life. He may have been small and beautiful when he was a child, but as an adult he’d bulked up and was now pushing six feet. Not to mention the fact that he clearly hit the gym regularly. He wasn’t as muscular as people like Kitt or Sebastian, but the man could probably hold his own in a fight.
It made my willowy frame look even smaller in comparison, but I refused to back down and faced him head on.
“Hey, come on, guys,” Clay said as he stepped between us, placing a hand on each of our chests to push us apart. “Let’s not fight. We’re all trying our best. If Jordy doesn’t want to talk right now, he doesn’t have to.”
I pushed Clay’s hand away harder than I meant to. I’d only intended to put a little space between us so Thomas’s ire wouldn’t spill onto him, but in my haste, it probably looked like I was repulsed by his touch. Hurt flashed through his eyes when I rejected him, which quickly brought my own temper to heel.
“I’m not afraid to talk,” I mumbled under my breath, not meeting anyone’s gaze. “I just think that we should be givingthese detectives everything we know and not hold anything back, even if it’s hard, so they can win the case.”
This time, when Thomas pushed closer to me, Clay didn’t stop him.
