Desperation bled into her every word. In that moment of unguardedness he saw straight through her defenses though they were pitiful at best. She was truly at her rope’s end. Bringing her here, in her way of thinking, was only delaying the inevitable of what she’d already expected. Her death. And peace.
“There has to be another way,” Caleb said stubbornly. “One that doesn’t involve you going back into hell. Think of what it will do to you, Ramie. You would be weak, defenseless after undergoing unimaginable trauma. And that’s when he’d strike. When you were at your lowest point. Vulnerable. Unable to fight back.”
“What I can’t and won’t do is stand here with my hands over my ears and face so I don’t know someone else out there is suffering horrifically because of . . . me. Maybe you could live with that on your conscience. But I can’t. I’m not wired that way. I knew what I was getting into all those years before. When I began aiding police in locating victims when I was just a teenager trying desperately to find my place in this world.
“My only ‘family’ came through the foster system and believe me, they had little interest in a girl who could track killers. I terrified them. But they took me for the money. The stipend they received to take me into their home. They only got me the bare essentials. Two pairs of clothes. A coat for when it got cold. Flip-flops for warmer weather and boots with socks for when it was cold. None of it fit me because my foster parents shopped at Goodwill Stores for the things they bought me. But for their real children, they bought the moon. Nothing was too good for them. I’ll never forget one of my foster sisters,” she said painfully. “Becky. She was such a sweet kid. Several years younger than me, and she didn’t understand that I didn’t fit in, that I wasn’t family. She was upset that I never got presents like the others. Why I wasn’t getting those same gifts.”
“Jesus,” Caleb muttered. “I don’t want to hear the rest of this. Stop it, baby. Don’t do this to yourself. It doesn’t matter.”
“I want to hear,” Eliza softly interjected, ignoring Caleb’s look of fury.
Ramie spoke unemotionally, as though she were reciting a news story that had no personal connection.
“My foster mother made it succinctly clear that I was not her real daughter. That I was not their real sister. My foster father didn’t even bother to acknowledge the question because to him I simply didn’t exist. The only time he spoke of me, not to me, mind you, was if a check from the state was late arriving and then he’d storm around the house complaining about what a burden having another mouth to feed was when it was their own children who needed things. Not some street kid who told lies to police officers so it got her sympathy.”
“Goddamn it,” Caleb cursed savagely. He glanced at Dane and Eliza, furious that they had pushed her to this. It was like ripping off a bandage and causing a wound to bleed fresh blood.
Ramie was in her past now, digging up old hurts and disappointments. Her eyes became distant, the light flickering and dying slowly in her gaze.
“Becky disappeared on the way home from school. She walked with me sometimes, even though she wasn’t supposed to. She’d hold my hand and smile up at me. I was so many years older than her and yet she seemed determined to take care of me. It always astonished me that something so good could come from such evil. Becky was sweet. Nothing like my foster parents or her other siblings. It was cold that day so I was walking fast, even though I was in no hurry to get home. As soon as I walked through the door the dad grabbed my shoulders, bruising me with his strength. I was always small for my age.”
Caleb’s and Eliza’s expression blackened and became stormy. Dane shook his head, muttering God only knew what under his breath. He looked as pissed as the people he worked with.
“I knew he was putting up a front, but I didn’t comprehend at first just what he’d done or why. He made accusations. He told the police I had threatened Becky and they believed him. Of course they did.”
She broke off and went silent a long moment, the retelling obviously one of the many demons in her past.
“He didn’t believe in my abilities. If he did, he would have made an effort to mask his thoughts. It was repulsive. I was in shock. And then I was terrified. I knew that no matter what happened that I needed to run and get as far away from the evil inside that house as I could.”
“Did he hurt you?” Caleb asked menacingly.
Ramie’s gaze shot upward, surprise reflected all over her face. “It doesn’t matter now, Caleb. That was ten years ago. I’m not that scared teenager anymore.”
“No, you’re just a very scared adult,” Eliza said gently.
Ramie swallowed visibly, not refuting Eliza’s assertion. She looked frozen, her hands trembling violently.
“Ramie?” Caleb asked gently. “What happened next? What happened to Becky?”
“He touched me,” Ramie choked out. “Not sexually. But he grabbed my shoulders, putting on a show for the police, playing the role of the frantic parent who feared his daughter had been harmed by the freak teenage foster child. And I could see what he wanted, every sick, demented fantasy he’d conjured. He had no idea that the minute he touched me I felt every single thing he wanted to do to me in full color. It was as if it really happened. I felt as violated as if it had happened.”
“I’m going to kill him,” Caleb said with such fury that it seemed to scorch the air around them.