Tricked

Wolf and Greta had rebooked a flight for later that evening. They got to the airport early with Callie so they could wait with her until her parents arrived. The police wanted to interview her once more before she would be permitted to leave the country, but at least she’d have her parents by her side.

“I will never forget you,” she told her new friends, giving them each a long, heartfelt hug.

“You have our contact information, and we will meet again,” Wolf told her. “We will come to the trial to testify, if necessary.”

“And maybe one day,” Greta added with a sparkle in her eye, “you can scene properly with us. Your natural curiosity about BDSM is still inside you. Don’t let him steal that from you, Callie. He has taken enough.”

“No,” Callie agreed. “I won’t.”

They stopped to listen as a voice came over the airport’s loudspeaker, announcing the arrival of her parents’ flight. Callie’s heart began to pound as passengers eventually came through the gates to the main lobby where they were waiting.

When she saw her parents—her dear, sweet, familiar parents—she sprinted toward them. They saw her at the same moment and they, too, began to run. Callie hurled into their open arms, relaxing fully for the first time since the ordeal had begun.

After a long, soul-renewing embrace, she pulled gently away from her parents. All three of them had tears streaming down their cheeks, huge smiles on their faces.

“Baby bear,” her father said, using the nickname from her childhood derived from her love of the Goldilocks story. “My sweet, sweet baby bear.”

“Here,” her mom said, holding out the much-loved teddy bear Callie had owned since she was four, and had left behind when she’d gone off to college. “Boo wanted to come, too.”

Callie took the beloved bear, laughing through her tears. Though it would surely be a long road to full emotional recovery, at that moment, she knew everything was going to be all right.Epilogue – Six Months Later“We will begin boarding flight 202 to Chicago in twenty minutes,” a voice announced over the loudspeaker. “Ticketed passengers please proceed to gate 17.”

“That’s my flight,” Callie said, rising from her seat in the airport lobby. Butterflies of anticipation and nervous excitement fluttered inside her. “I need to go through the security line now.”

“You have everything?” her dad asked, getting to his feet. “Your phone? Your bag? Enough money?”

Callie smiled. “I’ve got everything, Dad. Checked it twice.”

“Good girl.” He opened his arms for a hug. Callie nestled her head against his chest as he held her, inhaling one last time his warm, familiar scent. “You got this, baby. You’re gonna be great.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

As he let her go, her mother rose as well, concern etched on her face. “Oh, honey. Are you really sure about this?”

“Mom, it’s okay.” Callie said gently, trying to control her exasperation. They’d been over this a hundred times in the weeks leading up to her return to Chicago. She understood this was scary for her parents, but it was time. She was ready.

“But we worry about you, honey,” her mom continued. “It’s only been six months.”

“Jenny,” Callie’s dad intervened, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. “We can’t keep her home forever. The trial is over. Callie needs to get back out there and begin her life again.”

Callie flashed a grateful smile at her father. To her mother, she said, “The art institute isn’t going to hold the job forever. I’m really lucky this new opportunity came up. And Dr. Fisk agrees I’m ready. She believes it’s important for me to move forward now.”

She drew her mother into a hug. “I need to do this, Mom. I want to. Don’t you see? If I stay here in Wisconsin, then that bastard has won, even if he’s in jail. He’ll have succeeded in taking something from me. He’ll have turned me from an empowered, determined young woman”—she couldn’t help but grin as she used this phrase, so often repeated by Dr. Fisk when encouraging Callie to find the inner strength the psychologist was certain she possessed—“into a frightened rabbit always ducking back into her hole.”

She let go of her mother and took a step back to look into her eyes. “I know that’s not what you want for me. And it’s definitely not what I want for myself.”

Her mother smiled and nodded, though her eyes were bright with tears. “You truly are amazing, Callista Jean Anderson. And you’re right. I’m being selfish, wanting to hold on to you when it’s clearly time for you to leave the nest, this time for good.”

“And it’s not like I’m going that far. Chicago’s only an hour’s flight from Milwaukee. Once I’m settled in my new place, you guys have to come out. You, too, Harry. I’ll get tickets for the theater.”