Forgotten Awakenings (Awakenings #2) (15 page)

“Not like I do that every day!” Samuel exclaimed, waving his free arm in the air.

“She tried to kill you,” Elle whimpered, and before anyone could argue with her, she turned her attention to the detectives. “So what happens to her now?”

Detective Allen cleared his throat, taking a step toward them. “She’ll be arraigned before a judge tonight, or maybe tomorrow. That’s when they’ll determine if she can be released on bail.”

“And if she is released?” Elle asked, unable to keep her voice from wavering.

Detective Hamilton hesitated. “In theory, you and Mr. Davis would be given an order of protection, meaning she wouldn’t be allowed within a particular distance to you. Standard is a hundred yards, but considering that she’d attacked you each violently, if she makes bail, I would imagine the judge will hold her under house arrest. That means she’d be given an electronic ankle monitor that would prevent her from leaving her house at all.”

“Is it likely that the judge will even set bail for her?” Sadie asked, her hands protectively cradling her belly.

“Depends on the judge she gets, to be honest. This is her second violent attack in a matter of months, so I would think any judge would see that she’s a danger to the public, but there are some judges that have a softer outlook than others.”

Detective Allen stated the facts like he was rattling off his grocery list. He was so blunt about the woman who’d put two bullets into Elle and attempted to slice a chunk of skin out of Samuel.

Feeling overwhelmed, Elle gripped her cane and stood up. “I can’t . . . I can’t be here. I’m sorry.”

As she hobbled toward the door, Detective Hamilton reached out to grab her arm, causing her to scream, “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“I’m sorry,” he said, putting his hands up.

“Sorry?” she scoffed. “You’re sorry? Well, ain’t that just grand. She shot me twice and left me to bleed to death on the floor of my office, and you’re standing there talking about bail and electronic monitors!”

“It’s unlikely that she will actually be released, but I’m not going to stand here and lie to you, either, Mrs. Davis.”

“No, you’re too busy judging me to lie,” Elle groused, looking back at Samuel and Lydia. “I’m sorry she came after you. I really am.”

Then, she turned and walked out of the house, leaving them sitting on the sofas. Her heart ached, her head throbbed, and anger consumed her.

Fourteen

Elle took a deep breath as she climbed out of her car and turned her attention to the building in front of her. Nerves had caused her to turn around a dozen times and go home, back to the lovers who had done everything they could to ease the anger that filled her. They had touched her, made love to her, whispered sweet words of comfort into her ear, but it hadn’t helped. Her anger was as strong as ever, and the only way she’d be able to get rid of it was to face the woman who’d made an attempted on her life. Yet, she hadn’t gotten the courage to actually go inside.

Her cell phone rang, startling her. She dug it out of her back pocket, frowning when she saw Sadie’s number flashing across the screen. She hadn’t told them when she left or where she was going, just left a note that she’d be back later. They wouldn’t understand why she needed to do this. Hell, Elle didn’t understand.

“Stop being a coward and just go inside already,” Elle muttered to herself. Her legs felt like Jell-O as she pushed off the side of the car and headed inside.

There were two metal detectors perched about fifteen feet inside the door. Two police officers stood at each one: the first responsible for running all purses, bags, and personal belongings through the X-ray machine, while the other monitored those going through the detector. Elle tightened her grip on her cane as she approached the edge of the conveyor belt.

“Um, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” she told the officer running the X-ray machine.

He smiled. “Just place your cane, cell phone, and keys on the belt. Once they’re cleared, we can hand you the cane back and you can go through the detectors,” he explained.

Elle bit the inside of her bottom lip as she braced herself against the side of the conveyor belt and dropped her keys and phone into one of the plastic tubs, and then laid her cane on the belt.

“She’s clear,” the officer said, before handing her the cane back. “Here you go, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. She gripped it tight as she hobbled through the machine, waiting for the alarm to blare, but it didn’t. The other officer smiled as he gave her keys and phone back. “Can you tell me where to go if I want to see one of the prisoners?”

“Straight down the hall, take a left. It’s the first door on the right,” he said.

“Thanks.”

Elle followed his directions and soon found herself standing on the other side of the counter across from dozens of police officers.

“Can I help ya?” one of the women cops asked, slamming a file onto the counter and smacking her gum. Her name tag had S. Dawson engraved in it.

“Um, yeah, I . . . I’d like to see one of the . . . one of the prisoners,” Elle stammered.

“Name?” she asked, huffing as she turned toward the computer sitting catty-corner on the dark blue counter.

“Mine or hers?” Elle asked.

Dawson paused and looked back at her. “Well, you’re not in my system as a jailed, are you?”

“No,” Elle murmured, feeling stupid. “Trixie Maxwell.”

She turned back to the computer. Her fingers flying across the keyboard for a couple minutes before she paused and looked at Elle. “Your name?”

“Elle Davis.”

Dawson’s eyes widened. “Davis? Not Reid?”

“I just got married, so it’s Davis now,” she explained.

“Why do you want to see her?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Seeing as she’s being held on a charge of attempting to murder you, it seems a bit odd that you’d want to sit down with her,” Dawson explained. “So, again, why do you want to see her?”

Elle sighed. “Are you saying I can’t see her?”

“No,” she said. “But I need to know that you aren’t going to attack her.”

Elle pressed her lips together. “There are questions that only she has the answers to. I need those answers.”

“Hmm,” Dawson hummed. “Give me a minute.”

Elle stood at the counter for several minutes before sitting on one of the plastic chairs against the far wall. Dawson flittered back and forth, never once speaking to Elle again. Her irritation grew with each passing minute, and it didn’t help that her phone kept ringing, either. Sadie, Callum, Derek, even Samuel called over and over, and every time, she let the call go to her voice mail. She owed them an explanation, this she knew, but explaining where she was and why she was there wouldn’t be easy.

After almost an hour, Elle had enough waiting and hobbled back up to the counter, slamming her hand down on top. “I want to see her now!”

Dawson looked around the room before walking over to her. “Ma’am, I can’t let you see her until the district attorney arrives.”

“Why?” Elle asked.

“Because it could compromise their case against her,” Dawson explained as the door behind Elle opened, drawing both their attention to the dark-haired woman who walked in. “Ms. Alvarado, this is Elle Reid. Um, I mean Davis. She’d like to speak to Trixie Maxwell.”

Ms. Alvarado shifted her dark eyes to Elle, letting them drift down the length of her body before speaking. “Not quite yet. Is there somewhere more private we can speak?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dawson said, rushing around the counter and opening the large, wooden door that lead to the back.

“Mrs. Davis,” Ms. Alvarado said, gesturing for Elle to lead the way.

Dawson lead them into a small, interrogation room with bars on the window and a two-way window, the kind Elle had seen in every cop show she’d ever watched. Settling at the table, Elle leaned her cane against the side and stretched out her legs, trying to ease the pain.

“Would you like some coffee? Some water? Maybe a soda?” Ms. Alvarado asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“No, thank you,” Elle replied.

Ms. Alvarado nodded and settled at the table across from her, folding her hands together and dropping them in her lap. Once Dawson had closed the door, leaving the two women alone, she smiled. “I’m surprised to see you here, Mrs. . . Davis, is it?”

Elle nodded. “And why is that?”

“Well, most people who are violently attacked don’t come to the police station and ask to visit the person who hurt them. This is a first in my ten year career.”

“Oh.”

Ms. Alvarado leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table. “Why are you here, Mrs. Davis?”

Elle sighed. “Because I’m tired of being afraid.”

“And you think seeing her will help? Trixie Maxwell is a dangerous woman.”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” Elle groused. “I have the scars and pain to prove it, but what I don’t have are answers, and I need them in order to move on.” Pausing, she shifted in her seat. “Ms. Alvarado —”

“Sonia. Call me Sonia,” she interrupted. “And I understand why you want to speak with her, Mrs. Davis, but —”

“My name is Elle, and she came after me because the men she wanted fell in love with me. But I don’t understand why she targeted me, why I was the whore in the situation. She’s taken so much from me. Months of my life that I will never get back, moments that I missed because of her.” Elle placed her palms on the table. “All I’m asking for is five minutes.”

Sonia shook her head. “Nothing she says can be used against her. You understand that, right? She could confess to murder and I won’t be able to prosecute her for it.”

“I understand.”

Sonia stood up and stretched her hand toward Elle. “I need your cane. Can’t leave you alone with her if you have a weapon.” And when Elle hesitated, she added, “I’ll instruct the guards to keep her handcuffed. You’ll be safe.”

A small bit of relief filled Elle as she handed her cane over, though only a small bit. Trixie had proven twice now just how crazy she was. Elle found herself nervously tapping her nails on the table as she was left alone inside the small, dark room.

Ten minutes later, the door to the room opened once more and Elle watched as a shackled Trixie shuffled into the room in a bright orange jumpsuit. Just as Samuel said, her normally blond hair had been dyed a horrid dark brown. Her once pristine appearance had faded even more over the last seven months. She looked sick and gaunt.

“It’s you,” Trixie murmured, an evil smile twisting the corners of her lips upward. The guards dragged her to the table and attached her hands to a bar under the table.

“Yell when you’re ready,” one of the guards said before shifting his eyes to Trixie and then motioning for his partner to follow him.

Once the door was closed, Elle turned her attention back to Trixie. “You look like shit.”

“So do you,” Trixie countered, smirking. “Have to admit that I wasn’t expecting you when they told me I had a visitor.”

“Who were you expecting?” Elle asked.

“Nobody,” she said, her tone eerie. “Just not a whore like you. Surprised you can tear yourself off a dick long enough to come here. Or is it pussy you like the most? I get so confused on if you’re a dyke or just a slut.”

Elle laughed softly. “You think you’re so tough, don’t you? Came after me with a gun, tried to attack Samuel with a knife. But you’re not tough. You’re weak and pathetic.”

“No, I’m not,” Trixie snarled, pulling on the chains wrapped around her hands. “You stole everything from me.”

“Can’t steal what wasn’t yours,” Elle argued. “Derek and Callum, they were never yours. You and you alone are to blame for losing your job, for every decision you’ve ever made. I don’t understand why you blame me.”

“Why I blame you?” she asked incredulously. “You . . . You just waltzed into the office with your little lesbian girlfriend and suddenly you were everything. Samuel was singing your praises, talking about how amazing your designs were, how many potentials were begging to work with you. It was a slap in the face to all of us who had poured years of our lives into his company.

“And then you went and cost him a multi-million dollar project, and I thought he’d finally kick your ass to the curb. But he didn’t. He fucking bought your piss-ant company and gave you an entire division to run. He trusted you to pick and choose your projects, but he still insisted on approving my work, always finding something he didn’t like in my plans. Of course, you were probably fucking him, too. His little boy got you into the company, and Daddy was going to keep you there.”

Elle shook her head. “You know there’s never been anything between me and Samuel.”

“Do I?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Maybe I do, but do you really think people aren’t talking about you all over town? About you whoring yourself out for accounts? You’re not that stupid, Elle.”

“Maybe they do. Or maybe they’ve heard that I’m good at my job. Not just good, but damn good, and they want to see what I can do for them.” Elle leaned forward. “You want to know why Samuel always had to approve your plans? It’s because you were lazy. Your plans were messy and unprofessional. You spent more time flirting with anyone with a Y chromosome than you did your work and it showed.”

“Some of us had to fight to find people to love us,” Trixie argued.

“And I didn’t?” Elle snapped. “You don’t know me. You don’t know the hell I’ve been through at the hands of someone who claimed they loved me.”

“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo,” she snarled. “You have everything and I have nothing! Nothing!”

“Because you threw it away over petty jealousy!” Elle slammed her hand on the table, causing the woman across from her to slink backward.

The door to the room opened and the guard stepped into the doorway. “Everything okay?”

“I’m done here,” Elle said, standing up and bracing herself against the table. She looked down at Trixie. “You can call me a whore, blame me for living the life you so desperately want, but in the end, you’re going to be spending the rest of your life in jail while I’m loved and cherished and wanted. You will never be able to hurt me and mine again.”

As the guard handed Elle her cane, Trixie threw her head back and laughed. “Just you wait, fucking little whore, sooner or later, your precious lovers are going to get tired of you. And when they do, they’re going to kick you out on your ass with nothing. Nothing!”

Elle ignored her as she hobbled out of the room, struggling to keep her tears from falling. She ignored Sonia’s pleas for her to come back, needing to be free of that place. She burst through the doors that led to the hallway, scrambled through the outer doors and sucked a deep gulp of air into her lungs.

“Ma’am.” Elle turned and saw one of the police officers who’d been managing the front doors standing in the doorway. “Are you okay?”

“No,” she whimpered, quietly.

As tear slid down her cheek, she turned and walked back to her car, leaving behind all the questions she’d been begging to ask.

—FA—

“Where have you been?” were the first words out of Sadie’s mouth when Elle walked into the living room. She was sitting on the couch between Callum and Derek, one hand clutching her cell phone, while the other was resting on her belly. It had become a habit as her stomach expanded, as their baby grew.

Elle sighed and tossed her keys and cell phone onto the coffee table and sat on the smaller couch, leaning her cane against the side and clutching the aching muscle in her thigh. “I went to see Trixie.”