Free Jill Jackson - 02 - Voodoo Doll by Leah Giarratano Page A

first and then come back and fuck me while I was bleeding. He said I could stop him doing it if I gave the other guy head.' Justine began to cough, then spoke again in a tiny voice. 'So I did.'
    'I'm so sorry, Justine,' Jill wanted to reach out to the girl, but she'd moved as far as she could from her.
    'Did the other one have any tattoos?' Jill didn't want to press her any more, but this was a race for time now. They had to get these animals.
    'No. He didn't.' Justine turned, and faced Jill. 'He made me do it while the spider one watched. But halfway through he pulled away from me and walked out.'
    'Okay. I'm so sorry that happened to you, Justine. I'm going to leave you alone soon, honey, but we're going to need you to come in tomorrow.' Jill put her hand on the girl's shoulder. 'You did the right thing telling me.'
    'Ryan won't think so. He'll leave me.'
    'Deep inside, Justine, I think Ryan already knows what they did to you, and he hasn't left you yet,' Jill said. 'And you know what, Justine? If he did leave you because you got sexually assaulted, then he's not worth it anyway.'
    Jill held her while she cried a little, and then said, 'Unless you want to, honey, don't feel you have to tell anyone about this until you come in tomorrow. I'll help you tell your parents and Ryan.'
    'Thanks.'
    'Before we go, Justine, is there anything else you can think of that they said or did that you haven't told us yet?'
    Justine looked up at her. Jill saw her eyes widen with horror; she was remembering, reliving the scene. The girl swallowed, and the dead voice came back.
    'Yeah,' she said. 'While he was making me do it to the other one, the spider one started cutting himself on his stomach with a knife, and then he . . . came.'
    Jill couldn't speak for a moment. 'He . . . what? He did what?' She listened to the girl crying almost inaudibly.
    Finally, she asked quietly, 'Justine, was there any blood or semen left in your room afterwards?'
    'Yeah,' the girl nodded, and then hung her head, 'on the floor, but I wiped it up.'
    'That's okay Justine. That's okay.'
    As she left the house, Jill had her mobile out and was already dialling.

 
10
    'J OSS, YOU'VE GOT to talk to me.' Isobel had tucked Charlie into bed, and now sat down next to him on the lounge. 'Who was that?'
    'I told you in the car,' Joss's voice was glass. 'I knew him when I was growing up. He's violent. He's been in gaol. You know I don't want anything to do with my past.'
    'Yeah, but I've never heard you talk like that. What would be wrong with just acknowledging him and moving on?'
    'For fuck's sake, Isobel! Why do you have to question everything I do? I told you, he's fucking dangerous.'
    'Do you think you could try any harder to wake Charlie?' Isobel stood. 'Anyway,' she said, turning away, 'the police called. They have to re-interview us about the robbery. They're going to call tomorrow to set up a time.'
    She left the room before he could respond.
    Great. Just great . What did they want? Joss stared at the blank television screen. He felt hunted, trapped. How had Cutter found him? He knew it was no coincidence. Twenty years and he'd never seen anyone from his past life, and now he'd seen Cutter twice in just over a week. How long had he been watching them? Did he know where they lived? He looked around his loungeroom. How had he let this danger into his life? Why was this happening to him?
    An image of Fuzzy, scrabbling at his throat, blood everywhere, flashed into his mind. It seemed to answer his question.
    Cursing under his breath, he reached for the remote control, desperate to find something to replace the scenes and sounds in his head. On each station, Fuzzy's fourteen-year-old eyes pleaded with Joss to help him, jets of blood pumping from the gash in his neck. Joss's hands, wet with blood, trying to hold his friend's throat together.
    He threw the remote onto the cushion next to him and made his way to the kitchen, unconsciously wiping his hands on his jeans.