Filed To Story: Pretty Poisoned Novel by Elle Mitchell
Rinse and repeat. And repeat. And repeat.
Someone slides a tray with breakfast into my cell. That means they’ll start in on me again soon. They haven’t ever let me rest for this long. Even if they aren’t interrogating me, they leave me there in that room, hoping it’ll drive me insane.
But I’ve been crazy for a very long time. And now, I’m something elseI’m brokenbecause Declan told me we were the same, and they woke up something inside of me that had been sleeping for a long time and showed me what my life could look like if I were loved.
If I were free.
And now, I’d do anything to put it back to sleep.
The sheer agony is overwhelming. I thought I knew pain. I thought I knew it like an old friend or like the bridges of the songs I used to scream to get through my loneliest days. I never even minded it because before I knew love, it was the only thing I had to remind me I was still alive. I’d lie in bed at night and flip through the mental Rolodex of my worst memories and think, You feel that? You’re human. See how it hurts?
But god, I didn’t know. I didn’t know how it could hurt.
They found four bodies on the property. They demanded to know what I knew about them, but I insisted that I barely knew any of these peoplethat I just met them, and I’d never seen them violent.
I told them met a girl named Layla briefly, but I don’t remember her. I don’t know anything about anyone named Heidi, and I’ve never seen her sister.
They tell me that River and Hazel told them everything, that they got to go home, and I could go home, too, if I’d just tell the truth like they did.
But I don’t believe them. There is no version of the truth River and Hazel could tell them that would have them promising to send me home. And they’d never do it.
“All we want is the truth,” they say over and over again. “Tell us what the De Rossi brothers did to those girls. Tell us who the men in the masks were.”
“I don’t know,” I’ve told them repeatedly. “I don’t know what happened to any of those people, I didn’t know we were going to an airport until we were already there. I was never told where the plane was going. I don’t know who the men in the masks were. I’d never seen them before, and they never even spoke.”
How long can they just keep me here? I know there are laws about this.
I get off the bed and grab the piece of dry, white bread toast from the tray, forcing it down. I know I need to eat; I know I’m hungry, but it’s almost impossible to chew and swallow food when it’s taking all of my energy just to continue existing against my own will.
“Townsend, show me your hands.”
Hunched over the tray on my bunk, I turn and face the female officer, holding my hands up next to my head.
“Drop it,” she says.
“Um it’s toast. You gave it to me.”
“Drop it anyway and walk slowly to the door with your hands out in front of you.”
But I know this game already. I walk to the door and wait for her to cuff me through the bars, and then she opens it and takes me back to the interrogation room.
Except this time, there’s a man in a jacket with FBI written across the front waiting for me.
“Teagan Townsend,” he says. “I’m Agent Morris. And I need you to tell me what you know about the De Rossis and their association with The Order of the Red Hand.”
“The fucking what?” I ask. “What’s that? Another band or something?”
“She’s got a filthy mouth. I should have warned you,” the female cop says. “Wasn’t raised rightthat’s for sure.”
“No,” he says. “It’s an underground society of sorts that’s been branded as a cult. They’re mainly operational in Europe, but we’ve seen evidence of an active chapter here in the Western U.S. We think the De Rossis are involved, and we think you know they were involved.”
“Involved in what, exactly?”
“Human trafficking, human sacrifice, and cannibalism.”
I scoff. “No. They weren’t involved in anything like that. They drank blood sometimes. Liked a little blood with sex. It was just they were trying to create an aesthetic. They aren’t fucking cannibals.”
“I’m going to show you some photos, and you tell me if any of these people look familiar to you.”
I shrug. “Okay.”
One by one, he sets about eight photos of different men in front of me. All of them have a similar lookan air of wealth and power. But not a single one looks familiar.
“I’ve never seen any of these douchebags in my fucking life,” I tell him honestly.
At this point, I’m just trying to bother the female officer with my language. It’s the only source of amusement I have.
“What can you tell me about Layla? Why did Declan kill her?”
“He didn’t.”
“Then what happened to her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then how do you know he didn’t kill her?”
“LookI’ve been through all of this with them already. I’m sure they took notes. I barely knew Layla. We interacted a couple of times; she was quiet. From what I saw, Declan really cared about her. But I barely knew them, either. I was just there for the parties.”
“Is that why you carved their initials into your chest?” he asks.
“Everyone was doing it,” I say. “I just wanted attention.”
“Several tabloids have identified you as Luca De Rossi’s girlfriend. He posted pictures of the two of you together on his social media.”
I shrug. “I was sleeping with him. I was sleeping with both of them, to be honest.”
Visibly frustrated, the man sighs before laying his palms down on the table. “Teagan, you don’t have to protect them. In fact, you can’t protect them. These men were dangerous, violent criminals who abused women. Did they hurt you, too? Did they threaten you? We can keep you safe, but only if you help us.”
I wonder if he actually believes that. I haven’t forgotten what Declan told methat even he couldn’t save me from the what did this guy call them? The Red Hands? Hand? If Declan couldn’t keep me safe, this guy certainly can’t.
“I don’t know anything,” I say. “Just like I’ve told them about a hundred times now. I don’t need protection from themthey’re fucking musicians, and they were good to me.” Tearing up, I point to the officer by the door. “They’re the murderers! They killed my friends. Are you going to do anything about that while you’re here? They shot them for no fucking reason. Brady and Rhett didn’t do anything! Brady didn’t even like any of it. He just wanted to go live a quiet life. He wanted to have kids and send them to fucking private school.”
“Your friends killed two police officers!” the officer by the door shouts.
“Those people were not our fucking friends!”
Agent Morris leans in, his tone softening as he tries a new tactic. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Teagan. Your friends never should have had to die like that. What happened was a tragedy.”
“They didn’t have to!”
“And you’re in painI can see that. I can tell you’re lying about the nature of your relationship with them, too. Knowing when people are lying is my job, so let me help you. Brady Kim was manipulated by those men, just like you were. Declan De Rossi doesn’t care about you; if he did, he wouldn’t have risked your life only to slam that door in your face and leave you to deal with his mess. And Luca is dead.”
I swallow hard. “You don’t know that.”
“I’m going to show you something,” Agent Morris says, pulling an iPad from his bag. “This is footage from a police body cam of the event, and the man speaking is one of the world’s top surgeons.”
“Did the body cams pick up me getting kicked in the fucking ribs while I was on the ground?”
He reacts for a split second, looking up from the screen, before quickly collecting himself. I guess he missed that one.
He turns the iPad toward me and plays a split-screen video from CNNone side shows a slow-motion, enhanced video of us running for the plane, and on the other sits a man in scrubs the marquee below names Dr. Reynaldo Sousa.
“That’s right, Jake. There’s no way Luca De Rossi survived these gunshot wounds. If you slow it down right here, you can see that he’s hit at least three separate times in the lower abdomen. Although we can’t see the exact angle, the first would have entered his lung while the next two likely went through his kidneys, possibly his liver.”
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.