I place the phone on silent and text Miss Catherine, letting her know it’s me, with trembling fingers. She replies instantly. I so badly want to hear her voice.
Miss Catherine: Can u talk if I call?
Whisper: No camera in room
Miss Catherine: Where r u?
Whisper: ? Cold place. Plane trip. Snow at printer place in city where had surgery on shoulder now in another place lots of stone
Miss Catherine: Names?
Something isn’t right here. Miss Catherine has a way of talking, the same as she texts.
Whisper: Who is this
Miss Catherine: Edge
What?
Whisper: She ok
Edge: Yes with Ghost, Boxer, Lincoln.
Edge: I’m sorry.
I know what he is sorry about, and he can get fucked.
Whisper: Fuck u
Edge: I’ll find u.
Whisper: Want Boxer
Edge: He’s hurt bad. Lincoln’s same. Won’t stop until find u. They’ll live, need time. I need more information, anything.
Oh, God. Boxer and Lincoln are hurt.
Whisper: Event coming up I’m trophy more girls somewhere here.
Edge: Names!
Whisper: Cezar in charge rose broken weapon mathias bad guy.
Edge: Delete this conversation
I do as he says.
Edge: Call me. Don’t talk, just listen.
I call him, because I’m desperate and, it would appear, weak of mind.
“Whisper!” He sounds relieved I rang. “I’m going to talk. If you say nothing, I will take that as a yes. Cough if it is a no.”
The sound of his voice makes me break down crying loud sobs.
“Whisper, baby, you need to hang on.” Guilt laces his words. “I promise I’m coming for you, and I will slay down any fucker in my path. You will be coming back to Miss Catherine. I’m sorry I shot you. I’m sorry my father put you through hell. I didn’t know.” I disconnect. I’m too upset. How dare he call me baby? But I can’t help hanging onto every single one of his words and then the screen lights up with a message.
Edge: U still there?
Whisper: What day and time
Edge: Thursday late afternoon. It’s been a week since the bar.
What he isn’t saying is since we had sex. I shake my head a little to stop those thoughts.
Whisper: They cut my tongue warning b obedient
Edge: Fuck I’m so sorry. How bad are u?
Whisper: Ok
Edge: How did u get phone?
Whisper: Man held me down on bed dropped from pocket he will come for it I’m scared.
Edge: Hold onto seeing Miss Catherine again. I have Jenny to give to u when I find u. Delete conversation again, place phone where u found it and ignore it. Do it now. Little lady, I’m coming.
I delete the conversation again and work the phone back down my body as the heavy sobs keep coming, the taste of metal in my mouth.
I shut my eyes, quieting my sobs, as I wait to see if I have been found out and what punishment will fit this crime.
EDGE
SMASH!
Roaring at the ceiling, I throw the first thing I can get a hold of, which happens to be a glass, and smash it against the wall in my room.
Whisper is in deep trouble, and we’ve still got nothing to go on.
Her sobs were killing me.
Fucker. Cut. Her. Tongue.
That motherfucker is gonna pay.
I’ve kept in touch with the old lady. She hasn’t let on to the others that I have her phone, and for that, I am now truly grateful.
Whisper managed to get that phone and keep it hidden while she was going through hell, and now we have some names.
It’s a start.
Joel and all his genius wasn’t able to turn up a name of ownership that wasn’t the government for that abandoned airfield. Fucker must be using it rarely, and no one seems the wiser. Doubted the government even knew, not unless somebody’s hands were being greased.
Flight plan was a no-go too.
Unauthorized?
I’d slept longer than I should have, spent most of the night awake communicating with the old lady and her people. Crashed near dawn, my body needing to recuperate, Whisper’s call waking me. I feel guilty for sleeping half the day away when she’s going through shit she shouldn’t be.
I palm Miss Catherine’s phone and send a code to Slade, letting him know he’s got an incoming call coming.
He knows if I’m digging his number up, shit has hit the fan.
“Slade. Need you buddy.” And then I give him the location and disconnect.
I need to assemble a team. I need me a whole lot of muscle, but more importantly, I need what skills he can offer.
Always be prepared in advance, because I have no doubt…
Shit is gonna blow.
To Be Continued…
Contorted coming November 2016
To my family first, I thank you for all your support in my writing endeavours. 2016 was the year to shine and life decided to sweep the rug out from underneath us, but we hold on tight and we keep moving one foot in front of the other.
I open J’s window every morning and, hubs, you shut his window and draw the curtain every night. We share the heartache. We share the tears. We share the loss.
Middle man-child, I know I’m still in your room typing on the old clunker during the day and it’s book five. Love you for your patience. It will be soon. Xxx
It does take a small village of professional services and beta readers to release a book.
To Jemina Venter for being a friend and bringing the pretty to my book covers and images. You assist me when I can’t get my swag to fit onto those Vista templates. You are very patient.
To my lovely editors at Hot Tree Editing, Becky and Kayla, thank you for whipping my manuscript into shape and making it shiny. I’m glad I could make you laugh, Kayla. Eaton thinks so too. ;)
Thank you to Max Henry for your awesome formatting skills, you bring the pretty to the inside of all my books.
To the lovely Hot Tree beta readers Tina, Kolleen and Teri, thank you for taking the time to read and comment on my work. I do enjoy reading your sometimes hilarious thoughts.
Thank you, Tina Louise, for your enthusiasm for reading the raw Warped. It is hard showing somebody a raw draft of your work because it is a long way from shiny, and thank you for being one of my early, early readers.
Thank you, Debb, for being one of my early, early readers and my goodnight buddy. I always wait for my ping on my phone at night. It puts a smile on my face and when you don’t, you give me a good morning. It’s the little things at the moment that find my smile. Xx
Kasey and Robyn, you are the super pimpers for so many authors, thank you. Big thank you to Robyn’s sister and DH for their advice when I needed it. To moonboot or not? And what that darn fencing was called. Robyn I appreciate your enthusiasm for being one of my early, early readers of Warped.