by Lisa Shelby
His face is turning red as my grip tightens again, and the veins in his temples are beginning to swell. My anger, mixed with my fear for Olivia and my exhaustion, has the room spinning. Everything is starting to blur together when Daniel starts scratching at my wrists and spitting while he tries to gasp for air. My hold on his neck grows tighter and tighter, and my rage seems to know no bounds.
Baxter and Ben finally pull me off him, and as soon as my hold on his neck is gone, he falls to his knees coughing and gasping for breath. Never relenting, he slowly climbs to his feet and brushes off some invisible dirt from his pants. Looking at me, he has the nerve to say, "Wow she must be some sort of lay if she's got you worked up like this. If she makes it through all of this I may have to give her a ride just like I did London. She sure was a wild one."
Richie pushes me until my back is against the book case on the other side of the room while Baxter steps in and tries to reason with him.
"Sir, if you could just tell us where they may have taken her, that's all we need to know from you. We don't need to know anything else. We just need to find her."
"I don't know where the slut is, but it looks like from the text that came with your little video there, you better come up with some money, soon," he says, looking around Baxter and once again smiling at me as though he doesn't have a care in the world. "You no longer work for EVC so this isn't our problem. I sure hope you've been saving your pennies. Five million is a lot of money, Ronan. Is she worth it?"
"She's worth every penny, and I would give everything I have and everything I am to save her, because I love her. I know love isn't something you're accustomed to, and it isn't something you know anything about. Now, I'll ask you, one last time. Do you know where she is?"
"No, I don't, son."
"You don't get to call me that. Neither one of you do," I say, turning my attention to my birth father who is standing dumbfounded in the back of the room. As always just hanging in the background, never coming to my rescue.
"This is getting us nowhere. Let's go, Ronan," Richie says, turning me by the shoulders and forcing me to walk out of the room.
Passing my mother in the doorway, I don't give her a second thought. I don't hear her yelling after me as I leave the room and enter the ornate hallway full of art. Art I don't see, because I've lost all of my color again, and I'm afraid I may never get it back if we don't find Olivia in time.
In a cloud of gray, we waste no time leaving the house, and Ben once again takes the wheel and drives us back to Franklin Street.
The only thing we can do now is wait.
Wait for the despicable piece of shit who has my girl to text me back and tell me what the next step is.
14
Olivia
I hear the click of the door but don't stop counting off my push-ups in my head. It's night five, and by now, I know the schedule. In about two-seconds, the door will open and the henchman, who sits outside my concrete cell each night, will throw a bag of fast food at me and close the door once again. A cheeseburger, fries, and a bottle of water.
Since they took off my bindings, I don't need their help for anything, and they pretty much leave me alone. I don't think they liked helping me go to the little girl’s room, and after the first night, they cut off the zip ties. This leaves me to eat, exercise, and take care of myself on my own.
Dickey hasn't been back, but that doesn't mean he isn't here. The few times a day the door does open, I can hear a buzz of activity out in what I presume is a warehouse. In my head, I call my day shift babysitter, Softy. He is a bald, rotund Latino man who seems to be a bit softer in his delivery than my night shift babysitter. When he speaks to me, he almost seems apologetic.
Almost.
There is nothing soft about Teardrop, with his neck tattoos and exposed gun hanging off his hip. But for some reason those are nothing compared to the two tear drops that that are inked on his face and the large knife on his hip not carrying the gun. He's lean and carries the same aura that Dickey does. People mean nothing to him, and I know that if there was ever a chance for my escape, it will have to be in broad daylight, when Softy is on duty. I haven't figured out exactly how to make that happen, but I will.
I also think that Teardrop may be my creeper on the motorcycle. I hear the roar of the engine every night and every morning when babysitting duties are handed over from one goon to another.
All the fast food has been making me sick, but I am grateful there is a bathroom attached to my little cell. Yes, it is disgusting, but it's something. My situation is dire, but they are feeding me, and I haven't been raped, yet. I remind myself over and over that they could be so much worse. I have to stay positive if I am ever going to find my way back to Ronan.
Tonight, when night shift babysitter throws my food at me, I hear him snicker under his breath as he watches me do my push-ups. I can hear yelling in the background and then everything is quiet. He stands at attention and shuts the door, leaving me to myself. I stop my push-ups and do my best to hold my breath and stay silent. I can't help but wonder what took Teardrop from snickering and seeming relaxed to stiff and at attention. I don't press my ear up against the door, because I know the cameras are watching. I have no privacy.
I try to calm my breathing and act as though I don't notice the commotion outside my door. I open the bag of food, look in, and it's the same thing as it always is. I close the bag, pushing it aside. I'm feeling anxious, and I just can't bring myself to eat tonight.
A couple minutes later, I hear the click of the door once again, only this time it's the aging man who has been the source of my nightmares for most of my life.
"Hello, little one," he says, speaking to me as though we have an easy, comfortable relationship. "How goes the exercise? Me and the boys sure do you like watching you on the camera out there. Thanks for the entertainment."
I've known they were watching, but I had to block that out. I do my stretching, sit ups, push-ups, run in place, and whatever else I can think to do all day and night. It keeps me warm and feeling strong. Exercise has always done that for me, and if staying in shape helps me get out of here, then I will do it day in and day out.
"Speaking of entertainment, it's time for you to help me earn some money. Now get over here."
I don't move a muscle towards him. In fact, I step backward until my back hits the cold cement wall. I will not volunteer myself up to him and whatever he has planned. I know how my mother helped him earn money and that will not be me.
"Come on, Amber. Don't fuck around. I don't want to get violent tonight. I'm not in the mood. So, like I said, come over here. Now." He's practically growling with anger. He is a man used to those around him asking “how high” when he says to jump.
I don't speak.
I don't react.
I stay in place.
I will not give him what he wants.
I will not let him see any of the fear I know he's hoping to provoke in me.
When I don't do as he says, he signals Teardrop to come get me. Dickey turns and leaves the room and Teardrop stalks me like his prey and grabs me by the hair, dragging me out of the room.
What is up with these men and dragging me by my hair? There has to be another way.
Outside the room, it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the bright light after being kept in a dark room with only a sliver of sun or moonlight shining through. I'm shoved into a metal folding chair, and the moment my butt hits the cold seat, a heavy metal chain is wrapped around my chest twice and then brought back to my front and down to my hands. The chain must go on forever because it is wrapped around my wrists and then connected to my ankles. I am not going anywhere.
My eyes have finally adjusted, and when I see that I am sitting in the middle of some kind of warehouse with a bright light in front of me along with a computer sitting on a small table just a few feet in front of me, I know in an instant what's about to happen.
Dickey is going to make me send a message to Rona
n. He's going to make me beg Ronan to send money to save me, and I won't do it. He's used me as his pawn before, but I refuse to make it easy on him this time. I don't care what they do to me; I won't make Ronan give up what he's worked so hard for, and I won't give the man who murdered my father what he wants.
"Amber, we're going to make this real easy on you. All I need you to do is look right into the computer here," he says, pointing to the laptop screen. "And put on your best performance. I know you're quite the actress. You've been pretending to be someone you're not for all these years, so it should come easy to you. Now, we only get one shot at this since it's going to be a live feed right to your sweet little boyfriend. I figure it would be more dramatic that way. I think it's a nice touch, don't you? Did you know that it was your boyfriend’s daddy who brought us together again, Amber? He actually found me and told me where you were. He just made me promise to keep you away from his son. He didn't ask me to kill you or anything, but I know it's what he wants. You seem to have that effect on people. We all seem to want you dead."
My head is reeling from the information that Daniel would go to such lengths to remove me from Ronan's life. I know Dickey told me this to make me feel sad and desperate, but it's done quite the opposite. It's fortified my resolve to do whatever I can to make all of this better for Ronan. He's been through enough, and the fact that Daniel feels so little for the man he raised as his own son makes me want to get through this and to find my way to Ronan and make sure he knows every day just how loved he is.
I will not beg Ronan to pay for my rescue.
I will not beg Ronan to send the police.
Dickey doesn't deserve my compliance or Ronan's money.
"Now let's practice, shall we? You just say what's on the cards right here and everything will go fine. You got that?" I nod my understanding. "Okay, look into the camera here and let's give it a good old college try."
I play along with his game, appeasing him, but all the while trying to take in as much of my surroundings as I can. With the bright light shining in my face, it's hard to see much but when someone opens a green metal door to my right, and I can see pavement outside, I know I've found my out. I make a mental note of everything around me and pray I live long enough to use the information I've gathered.
I continue to regurgitate the information on the poster boards in front of me and can't help but wonder if it was Softy or Teardrop who had to go to the craft store to get the large thick paper and markers. The thought keeps me amused during my rehearsal as I repeat the threats of my death or dismemberment if Ronan doesn't do exactly as they ask. I tell him if he doesn't pay the five million by tomorrow night at the exact location Dickey requests, I'll never see him again. I repeat all the bullshit that's on the cards in front of me and say exactly what is expected of me.
"Perfect, Amber. You always were a good little girl."
Dickey approaches me, and when he's standing directly in front of me, he reaches up and rips my shirt so that my bra is exposed. He's doing this so Ronan thinks I've been defiled in some way. He's done this before. This most certainly is not his first rodeo, but if I have my way, it will be his last.
"Now in just a couple minutes, you're going to see your boyfriend's pretty little face on the screen here. He's going to see you, and I'm sure he's going to ask you a bunch of questions. But you aren't going to answer those questions. You're only going to tell him the words on the cards. Understood?"
I nod my head and let them think that everything is going to go exactly to his plan. I let him think that I'm so scared that, of course, I'm going to do what he asked me to do. In my head, I'm planning my speech but as soon as the computer screen comes to life, all rational thought is out of my head.
Before me is the most beautiful man I've ever seen. The man who shares his moon and his secret lair with me. The man on the screen is the same man I love more than my own life, but he is also a man who looks like he hasn't slept or eaten in days. It’s more than obvious all this is taking its toll on him, and I feel horrible.
He looks like this because of my stupidity.
I did this to him.
My immaturity and jealousy has caused him so much grief.
"Olivia! Olivia, baby, it's you!" His fingers are on the computer screen as though he's trying to touch me. "Oh, my God, gorgeous, are you okay? I love you so much! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! It's all my fault, and I'm going to make it right! I'm going to get you back!"
Hearing his desperation is breaking my heart, and I cannot stop the tears from falling. He blames himself, as I knew he would.
Oh baby, this is all on me.
I am so sorry.
This is all my doing.
My baggage.
Behind the table, Dickey stands with his arm crossed over his chest with his sinister smile stretching across his weathered face. Ronan is giving him exactly what he wants, and if I had to guess, he is getting hard just listening to his desperation. He gives me the signal to start and just as Dickey wanted, it's show time.
"Ronan, please you have to meet their demands or else..." I'm sobbing, and it makes it hard to get the words out, so I stop and take a breath. I brace myself for the pain I am sure is to follow and find the resolve I had mere moments ago, deep down, and do what I know I need to do. I slowly calm my tears and find my strength.
Not looking at Dickey, keeping my eyes aimed at the computer screen and the blue eyes of the kindest man I know, I break script knowing there is a good chance I am about to seal my own fate.
"Ronan whatever you do don't pay them! They're going to kill me whether you give them their money or not. I'm dead either way! I'm so sorry I put you in this position. I love you so much, and I'm so so sorry, but please don't fall into his trap!" Teardrop is approaching, and I know I'm running out of time. "He's going to tell you that he'll let me go, but he's going to kill me as soon as he gets your money. I love you. MT—"
I feel the smack to the side of my head, and my world goes black yet again.
15
I wake with a pounding in my head and the taste of sweet sugar and salty rain on my tongue. The rare times I have managed to find sleep in the last week I have had the same dream. A dream that was once my reality...
Warm California rain.
Streams of sticky sugar dripping down our arms.
Our laughter and the thundering beats of our hearts drowning out the pouring rain.
His wet white t-shirt stuck to his chiseled body.
His wicked smile dripping in sex.
His thumb pulling my bottom lip from my teeth.
Our mouths crashing together and the taste of our kiss.
And his words...
"I fucking love you, Olivia. You are the air in my lungs, the blood in my veins, and the beat of my heart."
My heart and my soul soar to unparalleled heights with his heartfelt words repeating over and over in my head, and I feel the pieces of my life coming together and all of my despair is washed away.
It's these feelings that are evoked every time I dream of our day in the rain, and these are the feelings pushing me to make it through another day. Feelings that give me the hope and courage to believe I will escape. That I will be kissing him in the rain again one day.
I try to lift my head, but it feels too heavy. My body aches from the chains still binding me to the hard metal chair, and I know without lifting my hand to my temple that there is a lump there, and it's pretty much a sure bet, I've got a concussion. Even chained to this chair and not moving the room is spinning.
I can hear talk of a meeting happening tomorrow night. Things are jumbled and unclear, but I hear Ronan's name and the mention of a drop-off site. It seems after my little act of defiance, they still managed to make arrangements with Ronan, and he has agreed to pay them off after all. Deep down, I knew he wouldn't listen to me, but I had to do what I could to try to warn him.
I clearly haven't been out for long because the light has just been turned off, and the la
ptop is still sitting in front of me, but the screen is blank. Through the blur in my vision, I can see the reflection of my body in the black computer screen, and it's the chains that stick out the most. To know he saw me chained up like this. I can't imagine how upset he must be. I don't move, and I pretend I am still out for the count so I can gather as much information as I can.
Eventually, the chains are removed, and what they think is my unconscious body is carried into what I now realize is an old warehouse office. I’m gently laid down on the ground in the corner I tend to stay in.
"I'm so sorry," is barely audible, but I hear it plain as day.
It appears I was right about Softy. He is sweeter than the rest of them. I know for a fact his counterpart would have thrown me to the ground had it been him that brought me back to my concrete cell.
As it has every night since I was taken, the moon shines its light on me where I lie on the cold concrete floor and comforts me. Tonight, I let that sliver of moonlight fill me with the strength and resolve I'll need in just a matter of hours.
It's time to rest, and it's time to get my wits about me.
I've been lying here freezing and desperately needing to relieve myself, but I don’t move an inch. It's all a part of my plan. My plan that is simply waiting for the morning sound of the door unlocking from the outside to occur. It feels like the sun has been up for hours already, but nobody has shown up. I wonder if I'm being punished?
