Savage Little Lies: Chapter 43

Sloane

At the scene, the police asked Lucas if he’d like an escort on the way to the hospital. Callum’s driver had wanted me to get checked out after seeing I had some bumps and bruises.

I didn’t think that required a police escort, though, but the cops had been adamant about it. They’d even highly advised it, but Lucas let them know he had the situation covered. He took me away from the scene and let me know both Callum and my brother would be there upon arrival. I was relieved to hear that news, and of course, I wanted to see them both, but I also wanted to see someone else. I’d been on the phone with Dorian before all this started.

I needed to see him badly. I needed to hear his voice and just be around him. I had no idea when I’d turned into this girl, but possibly being surrounded by flames had turned me into that. I could have died today.

I need to see him.

I started to ask Lucas if I could borrow his phone for all of a second before realizing I didn’t have Dorian’s number memorized. I would have to wait until I at least saw Bru. He had Dorian’s number in his phone.

The hospital was… surrounded. Legit, there was like a ton of people outside, news vans. The scene itself reminded me a lot of the time I’d gone to Dorian’s neighborhood and all those news people had been parked outside his gated community.

Lucas eased his sedan through them, tapping his horn, but as soon as he did that, the floodgates opened. People started taking pictures of our car and tapping on the windows.

“Is it her?” Some of them questioned, hitting against darkly tinted glass. “Open up. Is it her?”

Is who her?

I whipped around, studying these people through the window. “What’s going on?”

I asked the question to Lucas, the man full-on honking this time to get through the traffic of people and cameras. The whole outside of the hospital was a clusterfuck, and when we pulled up to the doors, he turned. “They’re here about your story, Miss Sloane, but it will be okay.”

My… story?

“Now, I want you to stay put until I open the door for you.” He nodded. “I’ll get you inside and to your brother. Don’t talk to anyone, but if you do, say strictly no comment. Mr. Montgomery is handling the situation.”

I had no idea what the fuck that meant, but I could only gather in this nosy-as-fuck town people had heard I was kidnapped.

Shit, word traveled fast.

I guess I was the five o’clock news because those shutters went off in rapid fire when Lucas opened the door.

“It’s her. It’s her!” shouted around me, people snapping my picture, but Lucas was quick. He grabbed me, and we went soaring through the sea of people and cameras.

Holy shit.

My heart was racing by the time we finally got into the hospital, and once we did, everyone was looking at us. Nurses and doctors stopped, and every other person milling around was staring at me.

What the fuck?

“Come on, Miss Sloane,” Lucas guided, getting us on the first elevator we could get to. He seemed to know where we were going because when they opened, he took us right out. We zipped through halls, the man fast and I noticed no one was around on this floor. I mean, I legitimately saw no doctors or anyone.

At least until my brother.

Bru stood in front of a television screen, his hands clasping his arms. His back to me, he stood in the center of a hospital room with a made bed, and he must have heard us come in because he shifted.

His shoulders visibly sagged, an instant relief flooding his face. Right away, he crossed the room over to me, and I had him in my arms before he could even make the trip halfway.

I hugged the shit out of my brother, actually shaking. The past twenty-four hours had been completely fucked and for so many reasons.

“Holy shit, Sloane. Holy shit,” he just kept saying, and I was crying. His swallow sounded in my ear. “Holy shit.”

Holy shit was right.

I squeezed him harder, not wanting to let go.

“You two kids stay here,” came from behind us, and when I opened my eyes, Lucas was at the door. He had his hat under his arm. “I’m going to let Mr. Montgomery know Sloane’s returned safe. He’s with the hospital’s director about the situation. Texted me that on the way over. He informed me this whole floor is secure, but don’t leave the room just in case. The press are very hungry for Sloane’s story.”

This was crazy, madness. What kind of fucked-up town cared this much about someone else’s business? I was nobody, no one.

Lucas closed the door behind him, and eventually, my brother let me go. I hadn’t been the one to do it, and I only think he did to look at me. He scanned my eyes. “It was Dad? I saw him on the video feed, but…”

I nodded before he could finish, my brother blinking.

“Did you know he was alive?” he asked, eyes wild. “Why did he take you?”

I didn’t want to tell my brother what our father did only moments after he confirmed our dad was still around.

I didn’t want to tell him Dad was dead even more.

I had no logical answers for my brother. I swallowed. “I didn’t know, and I don’t know why he took me, but he did.”

“Well, where is he?” He looked around like Dad would come through the door, but I shook him back.

“Lucas,” I said. “Lucas found me, and Dad was unstable, Bru.”

“What do you mean?”

How did I tell my brother that our father had been shot. How did I tell him that Dad died when that was what he already believed. I gripped his arms. “Lucas is Callum’s security, and Dad fired on him. He did, and Lucas had to shoot back to save me.”

His face fell. “What do you mean save you?”

It was hard for me to finish, and maybe he saw that because he brought me into a hug.

“Sloane?”

“Dad’s gone, Bru,” I said, holding him tight. “He tried to hurt me, and Lucas saved me. Dad was going to set the whole place he took me to on fire with me inside. He did set the place on fire.”

I remembered the flames, so big and all that gas. I still smelled like it.

My brother was silent, but he definitely heard me. His fingers dug into my back. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “He was unstable, Bruno.”

I broke down, my body racked with emotion. I didn’t like to fucking cry, but I couldn’t hold any of this in. It was too much.

I came away with my brother’s hands on my face. He wiped away the tears. “Maybe you should sit down.”

I wanted to, but I knew something I wanted more. “Have you heard from Dorian?”

He blinked. “Dorian?”

“Yeah. He tried to call me yesterday, but that’s when Dad grabbed me. I need to talk to him. I need to see him.”

He couldn’t make this better. He couldn’t make these feelings, this fear disappear or anything else. He could help though, and I needed to tell him something. If my last twenty-four hours told me anything, it was that there wasn’t time to waste moments.

Every minute means something. Every hour. Every second.

Those were Dorian’s words in one of his notes, and it was time I started living too. “Can I use your phone? I need to call him.”

My brother let go off me, scanning my eyes. He directed a thumb toward the door. “Dorian… Dorian’s here.”

I shot back. “What?” How was he here? I mean, how did he even know I was here? I just got here myself. “Did you tell him I was coming here?”

My brother just looked at me, his head cocked. “The whole world knows you’re here right now, Sloane. They’re following your story, and the only reason that door isn’t bursting down is because Callum had the hospital secure the whole floor and parts of the hospital. Dorian and his family showed up not long after that. They came for you with the Ambroses, Reeds, and…” He pocketed his hands. “Well, the Mallicks. At that point, the hospital was already secure, and from what I understand, things got pretty heated when the families found out. The news is saying they’re talking to judges and getting the courts involved so they can physically come in here and…”

My brother’s words drifted off, my hand up. I raised the other one. “Why would they all come here?”

“Well, for you, of course.” My brother’s mouth parted, his eyes narrowing. They flashed. “Did Lucas not tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“We’ve been informed that Baby Girl Mallick is somewhere in the facility.”

I turned toward the television. It was a reporter who’d spoken.

My brother was watching the news. Well, at least he had been, and what I saw on the screen caused my brow to jump.

I was on the screen, the video recording from only moments ago. Lucas was rushing me inside this hospital while photographers snapped my photo and reporters stalked me. The footage reported what had just happened outside, and since I was there, the footage didn’t surprise me. I mean, Lucas said they were there about my story.

I eased away from my brother and took a seat when I read the caption on the screen. It said Mallick Baby Girl Found, and in the right half of the screen, the news put a picture. The image was a little baby in a blanket, and on the blanket was something I hadn’t seen in years.

I used to wear a charm bracelet my parents gave me. I’d worn it, but I’d lost it one day, and the sole charm on it was fastened to the blanket.

I reached toward it, as if I could physically touch the charm, but ended up sitting back and refocusing on the whole screen. For some reason, the news was running the image of the baby next to the feed of me racing inside the hospital with Lucas.

“I don’t understand,” I said because I didn’t. Why were they putting me next to this baby? Why were they running that caption?

The seat beside me sunk down, my brother quiet. He put a hand on me. “Sloane—”

“Why are they showing this?” I asked, and the next image I recognized. It was the picture Wells and I had talked about, Ares’s parents and the two babies. One of them was him, the other his twin. I blinked. “Why are they showing Ares’s twin? That’s disrespectful. Why are they showing that?”

The girl was… gone. He hadn’t said how, but I’d assumed, in the moment, she’d passed. He’d been talking like that was the case, so showing her now was completely disrespectful.

My brother’s throat jumped. “You know about her?”

I did, but not really. I mean, I’d just found out.

I faced the screen, and my brother squeezed my shoulder.

“They’re saying that’s you, sis,” he said, my heart pounding. “That girl in the photo? Ares’s twin? They’re saying that’s you, and that you’re a missing person.”

A missing person?

I stared in horror at the TV, that charm on the baby blanket I recognized. It wasn’t on my childhood bracelet, but I definitely recognized it.

Ares wore the same one.

He had that day in the garage, the two charms identical.

Twins.

I sat up, images of me flashing on the screen. They were pictures taken from my social media, my picture and this… missing twin’s photos put together in a side by side. They had my name, Noa Sloane, then her name next to it.

I read that name. Over and over, I read it, and I definitely noticed something.

The name started with a P.

“Pilar Mallick,” my brother said, reading it as I had. He faced me. “They’re saying that’s you, Sloane.” He leaned forward. “They’re saying that’s your name.”