Willing Captive - Page 29

I watch her closely. My mind tries to capture her. An image that I can take with me when this is all over.

Looking at Lily is like looking into a flame. There’s a glow surrounding her, and it burns so bright that it hurts to look at her for a long while.

But that while?

It’s worth the hurt.

Dressed in a black tank and panties, she smiles up at me and try as I fucking might, I can’t return it. I can’t return it because I’ve got to do something really shitty right now. Something that will change her, yet again.

Climbing into bed, I sit facing her. Her face searches mine before I see worry seep into her eyes.

I have to tell her.

It’s time.

“Lily, there’s something I have to tell you…”

Chapter Sixteen

The calm before the storm

Lily

Nox telling me that Jamie Harrison organized the hit was a breaking point for me.

Jamie.

The brother of my heart. My friend and comrade in stupidity.

Once the tears start, I can’t stop them. I cry for a long time. Such a long time that Nox has to get up, bring me some water, and change our bed sheets, which are covered in tears.

They just won’t stop.

Betrayal.

That’s what I feel. Complete and utter betrayal.

Through my tears, I ask, “Is there any chance you got it wrong?”

Nox shakes his head, wiping away my tears. “I’m sorry, baby. No. His apartment had everything we needed to rule out anyone else. We found the laptop the emails were sent from. In the search history, we found internet searches for websites linked to kidnapping and extortion.” His jaw steels. “There was a wall in his bedroom that was filled with pictures of you, Lily. Hundreds of pictures. And what’s worse is that one of those pictures was taken the day I came to get you.”

My stomach lurches. I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it.

It has to be a mistake. Jamie wouldn’t do this to me. He and Jett are my friends! We lived in the same house for almost a year, for Christ’s sake. He taught me how to swear in Gaeilge (Irish Gaelic) and even went as far as to take me places that my dad wouldn’t let me by playing the ‘she’ll be fine with me’ card.

My tears come harder knowing his friendship was all an act.

Betrayed and deceived, I don’t know how I’ll ever get past this.

Knowing I shouldn’t ask, but having to, I beg, “Tell me what happened the first time I was taken.”

Nox shakes his head. “Lily-”

I cut him off with, “Please. I need to know. Maybe then I’ll understand all this. Please help me understand.”

Nox rubs a hand over his face and sighs, “Okay, baby. I don’t know all the details, but I’ll tell you what I know.” Clearing his throat, he starts, “Your dad mentioned it when we first spoke over the phone, and when I couldn’t find a link with the information he’d given me, I thought he was just being paranoid.”

Sounds like my dad.

“He said that you were thirteen and you were at the warehouse on a Saturday. You climbed a tree because, apparently, that was your thing back then.” Smiling at me, he pushed my now-damp hair away from my face. “And you fell. Only you didn’t.”

I remember that! I broke my arm and passed out.

I’m confused.

Nox explained, “You were pushed, Lily. When you fell, you fell hard, and passed out. Your dad said he never let you go far and always said for you to-”

We both said, “Stay close.”

My dad said that to me daily.

He nods. “He saw the whole thing, baby. And I heard it in his voice. The fear. It’s likely something he’ll never get over. Watching your kid be drugged and stuffed into the back of a van; I can’t even imagine what that would be like.”

My voice shudders, “No. No, that’s not what happened. I fell. I broke my arm and passed out. I woke up in the hospital.”

Nox takes my hand as he gently utters, “Baby. Yeah, you woke up in hospital. A week later.”

My stomach dips and my mouth parts, expelling a quick breath with a whoosh.

Feeling the color drain out of me, I ask, “Who was it?”

Nox shrugs. “Not anyone known to your father. An employee and his wife. Your dad got a lead early on from another employee who’d overheard something shady, and you were found the next morning in a cabin not far out. The wife was hysterical because you wouldn’t wake. She all but threw you to the medics that arrived, begging for them to help. A bit ironic that the person putting you in harm’s way didn’t want you harmed at all.”

He continues, “But I guess desperate times call for desperate measures. See, they had a son who was ill and needed money for an organ donation. They tried to get the money from other sources, but they just couldn’t get enough. They ran church fundraisers, appealed for help on television, even asked your father for money, which I’ll add, that he gave twenty-thousand dollars to. It just wasn’t enough. So, they tried for a ransom.”

Not caring about my story any longer, I ask softly, “What happened to him? The son.”

Nox shakes his head slowly and I’m suddenly overcome with emotion for this family I don’t know. Lowering my face into my hands, my body shakes with silent sobs.

He adds, “The husband and wife got jail time, but the husband took most of the wrap, so the wife got a suspended sentence with the help of your father. Not long after the husband was jailed, the son took a turn for the worst and didn’t make it in time for surgery. The wife killed herself a week later, and a week after that, the husband was also found dead in his cell.”

I can’t listen anymore. I choke out through shuddering breaths, “Stop. No more. I can’t. No more, please.”

That is a tragedy. A goddamn tragedy.

I’m overwhelmed by this information. And suddenly, nothing in my life seems all that bad anymore. Still sobbing, I whisper, “Why wouldn’t anyone help them?”

Nox’s face turns soft. “People tried to help, baby, but sometimes it’s not enough.”

Anger surges through me and I shout, “My dad could’ve helped them! He could’ve given them the money! The whole amount! We’re fucking rich, Nox!”

He looks me in the eye. He doesn’t respond. He can’t argue. He knows what I just said is accurate.

He holds me while I quietly cry myself to sleep.

***

“Baby, wake up.” This is whispered into my ear. I groan quietly and swat at the face by my ear, clipping his cheek. Nox chuckles, “C’mon, princess. Get up.”

My puffed and gritty eyes open and the room is completely dark.

As in, no sunshine dark. I look to the clock on the nightstand and it reads 5:47 am.

What the effing eff?

Pushing Nox away, I mumble, “Go away. Sleepy.”

His arms come around my waist, and he chuckles huskily, “Good morning, baby.”

I scoff, “This is not morning, Nox! This is the ass-crack of dawn.”

Pulling me close, he says, “Now you’re up, you can kiss me.”

Although that sounds mighty fine, reality reminds me to remind him, “You know, I have cotton mouth so bad, that my morning breath would make you pass out. So, no. And I’m pretty sure I have drool dried around my mouth from crying all night, too.”

Pulling my head into his chest, his body shakes with silent laughter. And I smile, wrapping my arms around him. Still thoroughly amused, he agrees, “Point taken. But once you brush your teeth, I get a kiss. Now get up and get dressed. We don’t have a lot of time.”

What?

At this point, my confusion is such a constant state that people would have to start classifying me as special. “Where are we going?”

Getting out of bed, he states, “It’s a surprise. So get your shit together. And make it quick.”

Rolling out of bed, I put on m

y best sultry voice, “Oooh, baby. I love when you get mean.”

“Lily.” A firm warning.

We both shower and dress in a jiff. I put on a pair of sweats and a tank, but Nox takes one of his jackets and throws it over my shoulders. He dresses in his usual black cargo pants and a black tee, but adds a jacket and baseball cap. And, sigh, he looks like he just stepped out of a fitness magazine.

Reaching forward, I link our fingers. He whispers on a squeeze of my hand, “Gotta be quiet.”

We creep through the house, and as we reach the front door, I narrow my eyes as Nox picks up a pre-prepared bag left in the hall. Out through the front door, he walks us to a creepy-black stalker van, and my heart skips a beat.

We’re going out. As in, out! I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

I all but skip to the van and Nox smiles big, shaking his head at me like I’m a dork. I even get to sit in the front seat. Sans blindfold!

Just as I buckle up, Nox pulls something out of his pocket and my face falls. “No!”

Nox gently pulls me to him, kisses my lips softly, and places the blindfold over my eyes.

Shit. And I thought we were past that.

Pouting with my arms crossed over my chest, Nox says, “You can pout all you want now, but as soon as we get out the car, you better lay one on me.” He adds, “You have no idea what I’m risking by sneaking you out.”

And it’s then I realize how much of a turd I’m being. Putting my arm out to my side, I feel for Nox. Finding his arm, I follow the trail down until I reach his hand and link our fingers. I apologize quietly, “I’m sorry, babe. I know I’m not being fair. It’s so easy for me to forget that I’m still being protected. Sometimes, I just want to be me again, you know? Without the dramatics and over the top security.”

Lifting my hand to his mouth, he kisses my palm, and silently drives us on.

We drive for around half an hour. I know this because Nox won’t let me turn on the radio due to the fact that I’ll easily figure out where we are, so I spend the time mentally counting the seconds.

I count twenty-seven minutes and three seconds, total, before the van comes to a stop and Nox gets out. He opens my door and I lift my hands to remove the blindfold, but he stops me with, “Signs, babe. I’ll tell you when you can take it off.”

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