Surrender to Temptation

by M. S. Parker

  Thousands of possible scenarios ran through my head, some completely ludicrous, others fairly logical. But none of them eased my growing anxiety. I wanted to start asking people if they’d seen her, but I’d already decided that wouldn’t be a good idea. The last thing she and I needed right now was that sort of attention. If people started asking questions about where she was now, they might feel like it was okay to ask about where she’d been for the last three years.

  I’d been trying to keep from thinking about that, but as each new minute passed, the thought crept a little closer. She’d left me searching for her before. Disappeared without a word or a trace.

  She could’ve done it again.

  I felt sick, and sitting here wasn’t going to make things better.

  I needed to go. Needed to find her.

  “Is this seat taken?” Kimberly didn’t wait for me to answer as she sat down next to me.

  “It is,” I hissed at her, “and you damn well know it.”

  “Shh.” The person on my other side gave me an annoyed look.

  Kimberly leaned across me, letting her hand drop onto my lap. “Sorry.” She gave the other person a charming smile even as she grabbed my cock through my pants.

  I jumped up, pushing her back into her chair and making my escape up the aisle. I felt bad for leaving before the movie was even half over, but I was certain Delia would understand. Or she wouldn’t, and I’d have lost another ‘friend.’ Either way, I was leaving.

  I didn’t go far though. Rather than waste my time trying to figure out where to start searching – that hadn’t worked out so well for me last time – I went to the front desk and asked to make a call.

  Florence answered almost immediately, “Hello?”

  “It’s Glenn.”

  “Glenn? What’s wrong? Shouldn’t you be watching Delia’s movie?”

  “I was just wondering if Maya was okay?”

  There was a slight pause, and when Florence started speaking again, there was a note of panic in her voice. “What do you mean you’re wondering if she’s okay? Isn’t she with you?”

  I went cold as every dark memory and feeling from the past three years came flooding back. My hand tightened on the receiver, and I had to force my words past my tight throat.

  “I can’t find her.”

  “She should be there.” I could hear Astor in the background, but I focused on what Florence was saying. “She and Harrison left here almost two hours ago.”

  I hung up and then called the police. “I need to report a missing person.”

  A moment later, a man answered the phone. “Detective Broad.”

  Shit.

  This was one of the assholes I’d talked to when Maya had gone missing the first time. I already knew he wouldn’t be any help, but I started to tell him anyway. “My girlfriend and a friend of ours left two hours ago to come meet me and they haven’t arrived yet.”

  “Why don’t you come down to the station and make an official statement, sir?” He sounded bored.

  “I don’t have time for that,” I said.

  “Then it must not be as urgent as you think it is.”

  “Listen here–”

  A commotion in the background cut off what I’d intended to say. I couldn’t catch all of it, but some pieces got through.

  “…someone worked him over pretty good…”

  “…meet them at University Hospital for a statement…”

  “…barely conscious but he said they took her…”

  “…don’t know his name, but I’ve seen him with Florence Woods…”

  The pieces rapidly fell together and I had a few seconds where it was impossible to breathe. Then, with a rush, air filled my lungs and I was moving. I dropped the phone and ran toward the door. The valet stared at me, wide-eyed, when I demanded my keys, so I bypassed him and went straight for the street.

  For once, luck was with me, and a cab stopped almost immediately after I held up my hand.

  “University Hospital,” I barked at the driver as I got into the back seat, but when I tried to close the door behind me, something stopped it.

  I turned to find Kimberly standing there. “Where are you going?”

  “Let go of the door.” I pulled harder. “I don’t have time for this.”

  She gave me what I knew was supposed to be a winning smile. “Then move over and I’ll come too.”

  I didn’t want her coming with me, didn’t want her anywhere near me, but I also didn’t want to waste any more time. I moved over and let her get in, telling the driver to go as soon as the door was closing.

  “So, baby, where are we going?” Kimberly snuggled up to my side like this was a date instead of…whatever this was.

  “I’m going to the hospital. I don’t care where you’re going.”

  I wasn’t sure if she was deliberately being obtuse, or if she was really so clueless that she truly didn’t get that I didn’t want her here. I ignored her as she started chattering about all of the events coming up that the two of us should attend together. I was too busy running through those few statements I’d heard.

  They had to be talking about Harrison. He was pretty much the only person who I could think of who could be recognizable as working for Florence. And while I was concerned about him, it was the unnamed her that was freaking me out.

  Because Florence had said he’d been with Maya, and I hadn’t heard anyone mentioning a woman being taken to the hospital. I wasn’t sure what I should hope for, that Maya was hurt and I just hadn’t heard, or that she was the person Harrison had said had been taken. The thought of her being hurt terrified me, especially with her being a pregnant, but someone taking her…

  I swallowed hard and told my racing heart to calm down. I didn’t know anything yet, so I shouldn’t speculate. That would just make matters worse. For all I knew, Maya was fine and the reason no one had mentioned her was because she was riding with Harrison to the hospital, and he had been deliriously rambling nonsense.

  Yet, as the cab pulled up in front of the hospital, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had gone really wrong.

  I didn’t wait for Kimberly to climb out, but instead went out the other door, tossing a few bills over the seat. When I got inside, I went straight to the receptionist, who pointed me in the right direction.

  It was Harrison.

  I cursed under my breath and approached the doctor who was standing over his far-too-still body.

  “How is he?”

  The doctor looked up, a generic refusal already partway out of his mouth, and then he realized who I was. “Mr. Jackson.”

  I nodded. “He’s a friend. How is he?”

  “Unconscious, unfortunately,” the doctor said. “Someone really went to town on this guy.” He gestured to Harrison’s hands. “But he fought back.”

  “Was anyone else brought in with him?”

  The doctor shook his head. “From what I understand, he was found by the side of the road, semi-conscious.”

  “When will he wake up? I need to talk to him. My girlfriend was with him.”

  The doctor looked down at Harrison, then up at me, something disapproving flickering across his eyes. “I’ll tell you what I told the police officers. I can’t predict that. If you want to talk to him, you’re welcome to wait in the lounge.”

  I needed to call Florence, I knew that, but I needed to calm down first. If I called her when I was this upset, it wouldn’t be good for her. So I went to the waiting room and began to pace. Maybe if I burnt off some nervous energy, I could start to think straight.

  “How long are we going to be here?”

  I spun around, certain that my ears had to be deceiving me, but no, there was Kimberly.

  “We really should try to get back to at least catch the end of the film and explain to Delia that we had an emergency. She’s not A-list, but she’s definitely got potential.”

  “Why are you here?” I closed the distance between us, all too aware of the ey
es on us both.

  “I’m here to support you, baby, of course.” She reached up and smoothed down my hair.

  I jerked back. “Seriously, Kimberly, you need to leave me alone.”

  She scowled and me and began rummaging through her purse. “You don’t need to be so mean, Glenn. Are you drinking again?”

  “Am I–” I started to sputter as she pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her purse. It wasn’t the cigarettes that caught my attention enough to stop me mid-sentence. It was the glint of something familiar that the removal of the cigarettes revealed. “What the hell is that?”

  I took a step toward her and she pulled her purse closer, looking flustered for the first time since I’d met her.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Show me.”

  She started to turn away, to find some way to twist this around so I’d be on the defensive, but I was done with her manipulations.

  “Kimberly, give me your purse, or this isn’t going to look good for you.” I held out my hand. When she didn’t make a move, I reached out and grabbed it, easily snatching the thing that had caught my attention.

  A necklace.

  A locket that I had last seen around Maya’s neck.

  I grabbed Kimberly’s arms and pushed her back against the wall. “Where is Maya? And don’t you even think about lying to me.”

  “Glenn, I–”

  I gave her a hard shake. “Tell me. And you better pray that she’s okay, or I will make it my mission to see you locked away for the rest of your life.”

  Twenty-One

  Maya

  The combination of the engine’s white noise, the darkness, and the rocking motion of being in the trunk lulled me into a trance-like stupor. I couldn’t see anything, not even my own hand in front of my face. I imagined this was what being in one of those sensory deprivation tanks was like. Seeing nothing. Hearing nothing.

  I still had my senses of touch and smell though, and I almost wished that I didn’t. The trunk reeked of gasoline, enough to make my eyes water and my stomach turn. The upholstery was rough against my cheek and arms, and all I could do was shift my cramped position as best I could to try to keep from being rubbed raw.

  I’d tried to memorize the route at first, listening for clues and keeping track of turns, but then I’d realized there was no point. This wasn’t my time, where I could hope to call Glenn or even that the kidnappers would put me on the phone when they called in a ransom. Because in the 1960’s, I imagined it was more likely a ransom demand would be made by letter, either through the mail or dropped off, something of that sort.

  I supposed knowing where I was could do some good if I escaped, but as time dragged on, I had to admit that not only had we been moving so long that I’d never be able to remember everything, but by now we were far enough away from Los Angeles that I wouldn’t know anything about where I was, no matter what direction we’d gone.

  For a while after I’d realized that, I just let myself drift. When I’d decided to try to come back here, I’d made my peace with never seeing my parents again, with the pain I knew my disappearance would cause when they realized I was gone. It hadn’t been easy, but when I’d weighed never seeing them against never seeing Glenn, there’d been only one choice I could make. Now, I was faced with the realization that my return could quite possibly leave everyone I loved grieving.

  I’d watched a documentary once about whether or not keeping prisoners in solitary confinement was the sort of cruel and unusual punishment that violated a person’s civil rights, and there’d been this psychologist who’d talked about how locking a person in a confined space, with no way out, no communication, and no way to mark the passage of time could severely affect their ability to interact and think.

  Logically, I knew I’d probably only been in the trunk for a couple hours, but it felt like years. A part of me even wanted to promise that I wouldn’t try to escape if only someone would talk to me, tell me what day it was. Even as I acknowledged that part, I thought of the life growing inside me. A baby I’d never planned for, never even considered having until the moment I’d realized I was pregnant. But a baby I’d protect with everything I had.

  And protection meant doing what needed to be done to survive.

  I was outnumbered and outsized. My hands and ankles were tied up. I was smart enough to know my limitations. I wasn’t going to be able to fight my way free. I needed to think. To plan. One advantage I did know I had over my kidnappers was that most people in this time still underestimated women. Unless these men were ahead of their time, they’d never believe that I’d be able to outsmart them.

  I clung to that hope for the remainder of the miserable ride. It was nearly impossible to stay focused, but I kept telling myself that I had to be ready. Finally, after a series of bumps and jolts that I knew would leave me bruised, we came to a stop. I waited to see if we’d continue on, but the engine stopped, the sudden silence disconcerting. I heard doors open, the murmurs of men’s voices, and then, with a burst of light that temporarily blinded me, the truck opened.

  “Take her inside,” the man I’d scratched ordered the other one. “I ain’t touching that hellcat again.”

  As my vision began to return, I saw him leaning over me, a surprisingly youthful face with dark eyes that were far too old for him. He didn’t say a word to me, just picked me up and draped me over his shoulder. I didn’t fight him, not knowing if any movement would harm the baby. I wanted to yell at him that he shouldn’t carry a pregnant woman like this, but I didn’t yet know what exactly they’d taken me for. The general public didn’t know I was pregnant, so chances were my kidnappers didn’t either. I wasn’t about to offer that information until I knew why I was here.

  I did, however, use the short time I was outside to get an idea of my surroundings. Not that they made me feel any better. We were in the mountains, and since we hadn’t driven far enough to get to the Rockies, I felt safe assuming these were the San Bernardino Mountains. That meant running away was going to have to be kept to a last resort. I could just as easily die from exposure out here as being killed by my kidnappers.

  I was taken inside a cabin, catching only a glimpse of a rugged kitchen slash living space before I was taken into a small room and dumped onto a tiny bed, if it could even be called that. It was little more than a cot, but was at least clean.

  “I need to go to the bathroom,” I said before the man could leave me.

  He turned, glowering at me as if I’d asked for something more than common courtesy for a biological need. I waited, but didn’t hold out any hope. Finally, he muttered a curse and came over to me.

  “I’m gonna untie you, but you try anything stupid, I’ll tie you to the bed and let you lay in your piss. Got it?”

  I nodded. When my hands were free, I rubbed my chafed wrists, but made no move to attack or escape. Freedom would be good, but only if I could survive it. Right now, being in this room wasn’t causing me any harm, so I’d stay until I figured out the best course of action.

  After he finished untying my feet, he left for a moment, then came back with a bucket. Without a word, he set it in a corner and left again.

  Right.

  By the time I’d taken care of my needs, begged a bit of soap and water from my captors, and paced the entirety of the room so many times that I’d lost count, I was half-convinced that this was worse than the trunk. The sun was starting to go down, which I knew meant it was getting late…and that any rescue attempt wouldn’t be coming any time soon. If at all.

  And that was what terrified me. That Glenn would simply think that I’d disappeared on him again. That he wouldn’t even want to try to look for me. That everyone I loved would assume I’d returned to my own time and any searching would be futile.

  The room was starting to get dark by the time I crawled onto the bed. I was exhausted in every way. Wrung out emotionally and mentally as I refused to let myself dissolve into the tears that wanted to come when I thought about Harriso
n, about my friends, about Glenn. Physically, I was drained. Thirsty and hungry, I knew I was reaching the end of my current reserves. If I had to, I could force myself to keep going, but I knew there wasn’t a point. It made more sense to at least attempt to rest so that when the time did come to act, I’d be ready.

  I was certain I wouldn’t be able to sleep, but as soon as I closed my eyes, I felt sleep dragging me down into that dreamless place where I’d stay while my mind and body recovered.

  I was down so deep that I registered the noises before I was actually awake enough to put names to them.

  Voices.

  Door slamming.

  Yelling.

  Movement.

  Cursing.

  Gunshot.

  Gunshots.

  The word echoed in my head and sent a rush of adrenaline through me. I bolted upright, sucking in a breath. Everything was loud and bright and disorienting. I was light-headed, both from moving too quickly and from not having eaten anything in several hours, but then one of the voices, one of the shouts, registered.

  My name.

  Glenn’s voice.

  Glenn.

  I scrambled off the bed and nearly fell on the door. My legs were a bit weak, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. I turned the doorknob, half-expecting it to be locked, but it wasn’t. I didn’t bother trying to figure out why. Maybe they thought a girl wouldn’t cause them any problems, or maybe they assumed that I’d see we were in the middle of nowhere and not try to run. Either way, I pushed the door open without any resistance.

  Blood was everywhere.

  Men wearing police uniforms and carrying guns streamed inside.

  Four bodies were on the floor. Two were the men who’d brought me up here. One was the man with the broken nose. The other–