Page 6 of Rescuing Rebecca
Well, not as much as it used to. But whatever. Telling Jamie the truth about what had happened while they were both up to their eyeballs in Captain Morgan’s Spiced Rum had helped. Despite the copious amounts of alcohol, he remembered that night.
Remembered everything he’d said shortly after being assigned to the Joint Task Team in Palo Pinto. He hadn’t meant to drag Jamie into the filth of his past or pour every ugly detail about being sexually assaulted by Maya into a near stranger’s lap.
But rum had loosened his tongue, and trust had shattered his dam.
And Jamie—well, Jamie had been Jamie.
Strong. Supportive. Non-judgmental. He’d just been there, exactly the way Jay needed him to be. A gift he’d never stop being grateful for. Same for the note he’d woken up to on the tiny wooden table between their beds the next morning.
Therapy session booked with SA specialist Dr. Ellory Quinn.
Meeting link added to your calendar.
2 p.m. Non-negotiable. — J.
P.S. You’re not alone anymore.
P.P.S. Blow this off, and I’m kicking your ass.
He hadn’t wanted to, but he’d gone. Because Jamie hadn’t just listened. He’d acted. He’d given a damn. He’d been the shove Jay needed to deal with the trauma of his past. The doctor, the older brother, the respected authority figure.
The kind of man and role model he hadn’t had for most of his life.
His memories hovering near the surface, Jay blinked the burn from his eyes. Fuck, he needed sleep. About a year’s worth. “I’m good. Seriously, I mean it. Doctor Quinn has me squared away, and I’ve been talking to Doctor Christina since Adam brought her onto the team. Trust me. I’m fully fucking therapied to the max, and I’m holding it together.”
He’d spoken the truth. Therapy had helped. He no longer believed the lies he’d told himself. No longer carried the crushing weight of blame for Maya’s actions. He knew now—his harsh words of rejection hadn’t been the trigger that shattered their lives.
But the why of it all?
Why he’d been raped? Becca, stabbed? Marie and Doug Barrows, murdered—their lives ripped away in a single, senseless crime spree?
Nobody knew.
Nobody could make sense of it.
Not Jay. Not Becca. Not the police, the detectives, the doctors, or the therapists.
And as for Maya? She’d vanished. A gifted programmer, she’d weaponized her genius to escape the consequences of her crimes. Yeah, she hadn’t just disappeared. She’d hunted her own trail first—killed every lead before it could take root.
Then she’d embedded herself in the underbelly of the darknet where monsters thrived. Her identity cloaked behind walls of sophisticated encryption and protected by a maze of false trails and dead-end aliases, she hadn’t simply run from justice. She’d outsmarted it.
No court had ever held her accountable. No cell door had clanged shut behind her. The cold edge of steel cuffs had never touched her wrists. And to this day, she remained free. Untouchable. Unrepentant.
Twenty-four hours. That’s all it’d taken.
One day to destroy multiple lives and carve scars into those who’d loved her most.
One day to burn it all down and walk away without a backward glance.
Nothing left but the blood on the floor, the broken bodies left behind, and the sick belief she’d bested them all.
Concern still driving his actions, Jamie leaned forward, braced his forearms against his knees, and dropped his voice low. “Listen, motherfucker. I know you’re getting the professional support you need. I’m just here to remind you, the rest of us have your back as well. So if you need to work through some things, we’ve got time to hit the gym, or the bags, or Grant and Cody if it helps.”
Jay huffed. “Not sure using faces for fist cushions is a recommended coping mechanism for sexual assault survivors.”
“Meh.” Jamie grinned and shrugged a lazy shoulder. “Whatever works.”
“Focusing on the mission works. Getting Rebecca back works. Stopping Dominion, crushing the Imperium Council, and putting Johnson in a pine box six feet underground works.”
