“Maybe I will when I’m less pissed. But right now, I can’t help but ask myself if you’d have taken the same risks if it were your old lady being hung out to dry instead of Citi.”
Chapter Nineteen
CITI
I smoothmy hand over Star’s hair as she sleeps peacefully on the large bed that makes her look tiny and vulnerable.
We’d been at the hospital for the last four hours. Star’s blood had been taken, and a battery of other tests had been done. She’d woken up for a little while, confused and disoriented, but thankfully not scared. She didn’t seem to remember anything after going to bed and waking up in the hospital.
She’d fallen asleep again about thirty minutes ago, something the doctor assured me was normal. Now we were just playing the waiting game for the test results.
Ambros had fallen asleep in the chair beside mine, his head resting on the edge of the bed, his scarred hand resting on Star’s ankle. I swallow at the sight of it, knowing it’s for her comfort as well as his own. The more time they spend together, the closer they become. It’s easy to see that, once I was calm enough to look beyond my panic to see Ambros’s fear.
He stirs at a tap on the door. It opens, and a woman pops her head in—a riot of red curls followed by a pair of black-framed glasses perched on a delicate face. She has porcelain skin dustedwith freckles on her cheeks, and large green eyes that look both kind and curious.
“Hello, my name is Greer. I’m from CPS.”
“Greer?” Ambros sits up and blinks.
“Ah, Ambros, right? I believe we’ve met. Can I come in?”
“Um, sure, but what’s this about?”
“Cases like this are usually reported to both CPS and the police,” she says softly, making me freeze.
“You’re not taking Star away from me,” I warn her.
She shakes her head as she steps into the room. “Not at all. It’s a standard precaution, that’s all. Please don’t take offense. I’m just doing my job and I really don’t mean any harm.”
I watch her warily. She’s small, like me, though the boxy suit she’s wearing does nothing for her. From the neck down, she reminds me of the headteacher from that kids’ movie. The one who hates children and forces them to eat chocolate cake.
“Take a seat,” Ambros tells her, his hand moving to rest in my lap.
“What do you want to know?”
“I was told Star was drugged.”
“What else were you told?” Ambros asks coldly.
She sighs, lacing her hands together as she looks at me. “Not much. I’d rather hear what happened from you anyway.”
I feel Ambros tense beside me, but I open my mouth anyway and spill what I know. I don’t embellish the details or mention things that are irrelevant. When I get to the end of the story, I hold back the part about the note. I might be pissed off with Havoc right now, but he’s still Star’s uncle and Nevaeh’s old man.
“So someone kidnapped Star from her bed and locked her in the truck after chloroforming her? Why would they do that?”
“Because he wanted to show us he could,” Ambros replies, taking one of my hands in his.
Greer frowns, confused.
“The man who bailed Josh out of prison is a PI. He works for someone who wants us to find his wife. This was a threat, or a reminder, that he hasn’t forgotten about us.”
I frown, looking between them. “Who is Josh?”
“He was Theo’s stepfather. He was arrested for attacking him.”
“And this Jack guy bailed him out? Theo is just a kid,” I snap, offended on Theo’s behalf.
“Trust me, I wasn’t any happier to hear about it either. Of course, by the time I did, the damage had been done.” Greer sighs, leaning back. “Look, I’m going to be straight with you. One of the doctors here made a comment about the cycle of abuse often continuing, and it pissed me off. If every person who was abused in one way or another as a child became the monster that tormented them, the world would be a dark and awful place. Yes, sometimes history repeats itself, I can’t deny that. But I know more people who, given the right help and support, rise above and become everything their oppressors could never dream of being.”
