Page 96 of Out of the Shadow

“What’s she like?”

I glance at the flowers. “I don’t really know her that well. She’s twenty-five now, I guess. I think she’s a costume designer for some TV studio out here in New York City.” Memories of her as an infant surge. Sara gave me a “I’m the Big Brother” T-shirt to wear when she was born. That was probably the closest we ever came to being a family. I rub my forehead, not wanting to relive my fucked-up childhood. I want to get my woman back.

“Maybe you’ll be able to get to know her now as an adult,” Angie murmurs. She glances at my bed, then sits in the chair.

I shrug, dismissing my sister from my mind and returning my attention squarely on Angie. Who is sitting too far away from me. Maybe she only kissed me earlier out of relief? Is it possible I misread the situation? God, I hope not. My first order of business is to calm her fears.

“Trevor was strung out. He needed money. Fast. But that doesn’t excuse what he tried to do to you.”

“I stopped him like I was taught in Brooklyn.” Her lips quirk up for an instant. “Bookies were after him.”

I nod. “He thought I had money to spare, and you were his ticket to getting my attention. Since his other attempts had failed.” I play with the soft bat. “He never hurt anyone like this before.”

“Hell of a way to start.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” She points to her clothes. “I’ve been released.”

The bruises around her wrists capture my attention. I exhale all the air in my lungs. “I don’t care about what he did to me. The thought of him hurting you is more than I can bear.”

She graces me with a small smile. “Trevor was so different when I met him at the screen test.”

“He was desperate. The bookies had already fucked up his arm. This mess was all about the drugs.” At that instant, I agree with my father on one thing. Drugs can do no good. I’m done with them forever.

“Before we continue, I want to say thank you for paying the ransom. I wasn’t sure you would.”

“You have no idea what I’d do for you.” She offers me a soft smile. “Tell me what happened in there,” I press. “If you’re comfortable talking about it.”

Angie tells me everything, from the phone call she got from “Robert” to the second time Trevor drugged her. I keep my mouth shut during her entire story, mainly because of the anger and fear it strikes in my heart.

Angie smooths the blankets on my bed. Something about her is different, but I can’t put my finger on it. My mind still isn’t thinking straight. “I woke up to the sound of sirens coming from the ambulance. Leo had called in reinforcements as soon as you entered the mansion. They caught Trevor trying to escape and arrested him.”

I slam my fists down on the bed. “I’m so sorry Trevor did this to you. It’s all my fault.”

“Shhhh. It’s over now. He’s in jail. Where he belongs.”

“His parents will probably bail him out, though.”

“Let’s allow the system to deal with him and focus on getting better. I’m sure the police will want to question you.”

As if Kaitlyn were here directing us, two cops pick that exact moment to arrive at my door. Angie excuses herself and I spend the next couple of hours answering all sorts of questions. From my past with Trevor to my knowledge of his money issues. Even though they have the tape from Leo, they ask me to walk them through what happened in the mansion.

When we’re wrapping up, I ask, “What about the money I gave Trevor? Is that evidence?” I hate asking the question, but it’s the only money I have.

One of the officers nods. “We recovered the duffel bag at the scene, and it’s already been processed. You’ll be able to recover the money in a couple of days.”

Thank fuck.

They leave a short while later, but Angie doesn’t return like I had hoped. Alone, I pick up her teddy bear. He needs a name. It comes to me in a flash: Jeter, arguably the best Yankees player ever. “What do you mean, Jeter? Are you a peace offering, a gratitude gift, or does she want me back?”

He doesn’t offer any useful information.

My phone rings from where it’s been charging on the side table. Moving slowly, deliberately, I pull the table over. Not bothering to check who’s calling, I answer, “Hello?”

“Honey! I just heard. How are you doing? Is the staff out there treating you right?”

I collapse on the pillows. “I’m fine, Mom. I have a bump on my head and a massive headache, but that’s all.”

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