April nodded. “I’ve heard of that place.” She had never been there, but aside from the private investigators telling her about it, a few people at work had mentioned volunteering there during the holiday season.
“Yeah, her parents really put a lot of time and effort into it.”
The long pause that followed his soft words weighed heavily on April. She couldn’t imagine something like that happening to someone she knew, or to anyone she cared about. Casey was killed in a car accident, but that was different. This felt way more gruesome. “Is that why you became a homicide detective?”
Tanner lowered his gaze, but there was no missing the tender sadness in his answer. “Yeah. I told myself I could find her killer.”
Without thinking, April wrapped her arms around Tanner, embracing him in a quick but tight hug. She was just about to let go when she felt his arms going around her. They stood like that for some amount of time, whether it was seconds or minutes, April didn’t know. Nor did she care.
When they carefully pulled apart, the sorrow in his blue eyes hit her like a freight train. “What was that for?” He asked. “Not that I didn’t like it. As a matter of fact, you can feel free to hug me anytime you want.”
April smiled. “I just thought you might need a hug today.”
Tanner sighed, cocking his head to the side, that ever present crooked grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Tomorrow?” He asked, and April knew exactly what he meant.
“See you then.”
Chapter 6
April stood watching from behind the one-way glass as three special forces soldiers, standing in a semi-circle around Violet, threw knives at her. The soldiers wore artificial intelligence goggles to conceal the fact that their target was a six-year-old girl, and noise-canceling headphones that allowed Ned to communicate with them directly, while blocking out any sounds Violet might make. Each soldier had a large wooden block to their side, filled with forty-eight knives each. They had been instructed by Ned that they were aiming at a corkboard and were being tested for speed and accuracy for an upcoming sensory deprivation training event. He directed their every throw, precisely telling them when and how to throw the knife. April winced, holding her breath every time Ned had all three men throw their knives at Violet just one or two seconds apart. She was good, but this was really testing her limits.
It was Friday, and April had run with Tanner every morning that week. They’d also texted back and forth every day and talked on the phone every evening. The more she got to know Tanner, the more April trusted he really was the kind of man she thought he was.
Kind. Generous. Trustworthy.
Nothing about what he’d said during their long evening chats or on their runs had raised a single red flag. She hadn’t knownTanner very long, but after what Ned was putting Violet through today, April was more certain than ever that she needed to get Violet out of here. And Tanner was their only hope.
April held her breath as Violet masterfully diverted each knife into the corkboard behind her. But it didn’t make it any easier to watch. It was amazing how much control Violet had over her gift at such a young age. It took immense concentration on the six-year old’s part. One distraction, one minor slip up, and that knife could very well become embedded in one of the men, or even in Violet. The thought terrified April, but all she could do was stand there, silently hoping the exercise went off without a hitch, despite the cruel violence of it all.
“I think Violet is having fun,” Ned said, taking a step closer to April. She was so focused on Violet that she’d almost forgotten he was there. He mostly just stood at the intercom, alternating between directing the soldiers and encouraging or threatening Violet, depending on her performance. April wanted to punch him in the face at the mere suggestion that having knives thrown at you was fun, but instead she bit her tongue and kept her eyes on Violet. “She’s tired,” April said. The six-year old’s forehead was drenched in sweat, her eyes were growing glassy with fatigue, and her arms were becoming more rigid at her sides.
“Come on, April. At least admit she’s having a good time. I bet she thinks of it as a game.”
April glared at the man standing next to her. He was a head taller than her, and his dark brown eyes seemed to dance in anticipation of her agreement. “It’s not a game, Ned,” April practically spat out. “It’s a dangerous and potentially deadly exercise that hurts her in ways we can’t even begin to imagine. Don’t you realize someone could get killed at any moment?”
Ned smirked and nodded in Violet’s direction. “That’s what makes the game so much fun. But you’re right, it’s notjustagame. I have much bigger plans in mind for my stepdaughter, but first I need to ensure she has full control of her powers.”
“What plans?” April asked.
Ned gave her a wink that made her skin crawl. “That is way over your paygrade, April.” He turned and spoke into the intercom. “Violet, I’m going to instruct them to throw two knives at the same time, and I want you to keep diverting them into the corkboard.”
“I’m tired,” Violet complained. “Can’t we stop for today? I want to go play outside with Aunt April now.”
“Not yet,” Ned said, sternly. “Get ready, Violet. If you miss even one knife, you’ll have to start the game all over again. Do you understand?”
Violet glared at the one-way glass, blinking back tears. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Listen to me, Violet. I’m your father, and you’ll do as I say. Now, just a few more minutes, and then you can go outside with Aunt April. Here they come. No more arguing.” He flicked a switch and spoke into the headphones of the soldiers, instructing them of what he’d just told Violet was going to happen. With a swift nod, they pulled two knives out, one in each hand, and prepared to hurl them at what they thought was a corkboard. What they didn’t know was that there was an exhausted six-year-old on the verge of tears standing between them and that dang corkboard.
April placed a hand on the glass, wanting nothing more than for this stupid exercise to be over already. “You got this,” she whispered under her breath just as the first set of six knives came hurling at Violet.
Violet creased her brow and lifted her hands, making the knives veer away from her midair and slam into the corkboard with such force that they went all the way to the hilt. Ned smiled, no doubt pleased, but April felt the pit in her stomach growing.
Echo stood in the far corner of the room, wearing protective armor. He took a step toward Violet, then another. April drew in a tense breath and held it. One of Echo’s main responsibilities was to keep Violet safe during these exercises. If she grew tired or lost control of her ability, it was his job to cover her, and get her out of there before anything could hurt her.
If Echo was moving toward her, he was sensing the same thing April was. Violet was coming to the end of her rope.
“Keep going, Violet. You’re doing great,” Ned said, not caring that she was sweating profusely and her movements were becoming increasingly stiffer and slower.
