The Unbreakable (Ghost #3)

Chapter 6

"How do you know it's him?" I quietly ask, restraining my fury.

"We got him for attempted rape of an underage. During the interrogation he confessed. To every single thing. When he talked about a little girl in a hoodie from over 7 years ago, explaining each and every detail of how he-, of what he did to her, I knew it was you."

"Why are you telling me this?" I can hear my voice tremble as m mind goes back to that horrendous night, replaying the events in my head again. The reminder of the incident feels like scorching fire on my back. "Do you need me to testify against him or what?"

"I wish that was true... - Anderson groans, sitting on the bench next to the ring – I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Lia." He buries his head in his hands, breaking down right in front of me.

"What is it?" I demand, my whole body coiling in dread.

"He's gone. He got away." Anderson bemoans, giving me a heartbroken glance.

"That's not all, is it..." I trail off.

"He got all your documentation from the archives... and left a note. It said that he's going to get his favorite doll back." I struggle to breathe when I hear this, clutching onto my head with my hands, tugging at the roots of my hair to not get lost in the darkness that threatens to swallow me. I won't break down. I won't break down. I need to stay strong. Blake will be sad if he sees me broken again. I don't want my Cakey sad. I need to stay strong. For Blake. For Blake. For Blake.

"Is that why you came here?" I croak, rocking back and forth to calm down.

"Yes. But I couldn't just call you. Someone from the station helped that guy escape. I need to find out who, but first I had to warn you. You were the only one he referred to as 'doll' so I immediately knew he meant..." He stops when his voice breaks.

"He's coming for me." I finish. "FUCK!!!" I yell in pain, digging my fingers into my scalp.

"I'm so sorry, Lia. I can only imagine what you feel right now. I'm really sorry. But I had to tell you. You need to be ready. I don't want him to hurt you again. That's why I asked your father how to find you, that's why I'm here to let you know about this. I couldn't just call, cause I have no idea who works with that fucker. The call could be tapped and reveal your whereabouts..." Anderson rambles nervously, almost making me chuckle.

"I know, I get it. – I calm down, taking a deep breath – Thank you for warning me. I appreciate it." I add.

"I have his mugshot. – I shoot up at this, staring at him wide-eyed – I know you probably don't want to see his face, but... I felt that you need to know who he is in order to avoid him."

"You want me to see the face of the fucker that raped me? After all those years I spent trying to forget his fucking voice?" I whisper, my voice completely gone.

"I don't want you to see him!" Anderson screams, rising from the bench. "I didn't mean that! I thought about giving it to those bikers you hang around with, so they can keep you safe. Maybe even turning it to the local police, but considering the fact that you're an underground fighter, that wouldn't be a smart idea. You would have to be under the radar and I know you'd hate that." He explains, frowning slightly when he gets no reaction from me.

"Those guys don't know my past; how do I ask them to keep watch on me without explaining the situation?" I sigh again, pulling my legs to my chest, leaning my chin on my knees. Despite the gym being warm, I feel cold.

"Shit. I can't stay here for long, I have to find the snitch and deal with them... I came here unofficially, so I can't get involved..." Anderson paces around, wondering out loud.

"Give me the picture. I'll deal with it." I quietly say, but he clearly hears me, turning around to face me so fast I'm almost worried he got a whiplash.

"What?"

"I said give me the picture. It's time I face my nightmare."

After that, we stayed at the bar, talking about different stuff, my life with dad, me being a fighter, Anderson's daughters' weddings, his relationship with his grandkids and so on. I could tell the guys were slightly disappointed that we didn't fight, so we decided to give them a treat and have a short sparring session.

Obviously, I won.

When we finally separated and Anderson asked the bikers to help keep watch on me, I quickly got changed into my normal attire and let the friendly officer drive me to the stadium, where my Cakey is currently playing.

I still haven't looked at the photo, even though it's burning a hole in my pocket.

The man on it is the one that hurt me in the most painful way.

The one that took away my innocence.

The one that gives me nightmares even now.

The one that ruined my life.

The one I'm going to kill with my own hands.