Reasons to Stay: Reasons Part Two

by Lisa J. Hobman

  ‘He does though. He thought he had a real future with you.’

  ‘Mollie, I love you dearly, but I knew this was a bad idea. Me dating your brother was always a recipe for disaster. Look what it’s doing to us.’

  Mollie sighed. ‘No, it’s not doing anything to us, honestly. I just wish things could be different for both of you.’

  ‘Me too.’ Stevie really did wish that.

  ‘I see what this situation has done to you. You’ve never loved anyone else. You never will love anyone else until you let him go.’

  The stinging behind her eyes gave way to full blown tears. ‘But that’s just it, Moll. I can’t let him go. I never could. I don’t even know how to begin to try.’

  ‘Well, maybe when you figure it out you could give Marcus a call?’

  ‘If I ever figure it out, I will.’

  After the call, Stevie sat with her head in her hands, wondering where Jason was right then. She wondered if he was okay. He’d been gone almost two weeks, and she had heard nothing from Dillon. Not that she expected to if she was totally honest with herself.

  The ride back to the base was getting longer. Jason felt sure it was. The smell in the vehicle was becoming unbearable, and he was desperate to get back and shower. Oriel sat opposite him with a wide smile on her face. Her eyes sparkled with mirth.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ he asked.

  ‘You.’

  ‘And why would that be?’ He didn’t remember saying anything humorous, yet there she was with a huge grin on her face.

  ‘Oh, I was just thinking back to when that little boy vomited on you. Your face was hilarious.’

  ‘Oh, gee thanks. I didn’t find it funny I can assure you.’ He scrunched his nose up at the smell sticking to his clothing.

  ‘You were so sweet, though. You didn’t yell. I think he was scared you’d be angry.’

  He shook his head and smiled. ‘Considering I have an inherent fear of needles, I could hardly be angry with the poor kid. You should see me when I get tattoos. Not pretty at all.’

  ‘A big strapping man like you is scared of a little prick?’

  Jason burst into laughter. ‘I’m not scared of pricks, Ori. That’s you!’

  She swiped a playful hand at him. ‘I’m not scared of pricks, and you know what I meant. Merde, you’re such a boy.’

  ‘You noticed then?’

  She rolled her eyed with a giggle. He loved to tease her. Their friendship had blossomed over the short time they’d been working together. These past few weeks had flown thanks to Oriel. She was amazing. The way she dealt with people, he was in awe. She was so warm and caring. People instantly took to her.

  During these last weeks, he had felt happy; tired but happy. And it wasn’t that he wanted her. Their relationship had developed into a solid friendship, the kind that usually took years to establish. He had still been thinking of Stevie, but for some reason being around Oriel had helped him look back on the happy times they had shared. One day whilst they had been talking about their reasons for being in Africa, he had talked with Oriel about Stevie, and he had appreciated the way she had listened without judging him.

  At the end of their conversation about his failed relationship, she had said, ‘Jason, some things are meant to be…some are not. But those that are meant to be will be regardless of the odds stacked against them. If you are meant to be with Stevie, then this is not the end. It’s merely a fork in the road…just not the right time. But if you are not meant to be, you will find a way to get over her.’

  Listening to her words had made him think. He wondered if there was truth in them. Although even if there was, it made little difference. It meant that he would either be with her eventually or he would find someone else. Neither felt in the slightest bit possible.

  A week later, Stevie sat nervously outside the school’s meeting room with the external candidates. She glanced around and was thankful that each and every other applicant seemed as nervous as she felt. She was trying her best to keep her hands still, but the more she tried, the sweatier her palms became. She knew the Head Teacher well, had known him for several years now, but for some reason, being interviewed by Mr. Carmichael was a big deal. No, a very big deal. This job was the culmination of years of hard work. This job was what she had wanted since starting at Wilmserden High School all those years ago.

  She had prepared very well. She’d gone over the top, if the truth were known. Her planned lesson and presentations had been done using the latest software, and her laptop and memory stick had been checked, rechecked, and checked some more. She was not going to mess this up. This job was going to be the making of her. Wasn’t it? Because she desperately wanted it. Didn’t she? Yes. She did. Absolutely. Noooo doubts at all there.

  None.

  Mr. Carmichael welcomed the group into the room and gave a brief introduction about the school, the facts and figures about grades, etc. Stevie fought an eye roll along with the urge to stand up and shout, ‘Can we bloody get on with it?’

  Once the introduction was over, the eight candidates were taken on a tour of the school. Having worked there for a few years now, Stevie was waved at and called to by over-eager learners, earning her disapproving looks from the other candidates. Her cheeks heated on several occasions and she resorted to standing at the back of the group.

  That evening, Stevie arrived home in a bit of a daze. Rowdy did his best to get her attention, nuzzling her hand and following her around making snuffling noises as if sulking at her lack of fussing. But she was feeling rather shell shocked at how gruelling the day had been and decided to open up the bottle of Shiraz she had been saving for the weekend. Well, it was Friday evening, officially the start of the weekend. The exam papers awaiting grades could bloody well continue to wait. She gulped down the first glass in one go. The second wasn’t drunk quite so speedily. And by the third she was numb enough not to give a crap. She kicked off her shoes and sat on the sofa.

  Listlessly, she grabbed the remote control and barely had the energy to aim it at the TV. After flicking through the channels, something caught her eye on the news channel. She leaned forward and turned up the volume.

  The vehicle convoy was ambushed at around noon, and several of the volunteers were shot dead at the scene. It is believed there are four people missing. One of whom is a French national by the name of Oriel Maçon. Ms. Maçon is an interpreter for the charitable organisation and works in a voluntary capacity. It is also said that her bodyguard, a Mr. Jason Reynolds, is also missing.

  Her glass of wine slipped through her fingers and caught the edge of the coffee table, sending its liquid contents and shards of glass flying. Rowdy jumped and ran to the other side of the room.

  She stared at the screen, unable to move. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought her heart had ceased to beat. The room seemed to disappear, and she suddenly felt very cold and numb.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jason groggily gained consciousness. He was surrounded by blackness, and the pain in his head throbbed to the beat of his racing heart. Realising he had something covering his head, he began to cough as he inhaled dust from whatever it was. His hands and feet were tethered, and he began to panic. What the hell had happened? Where is Oriel? Is she alive?

  ‘Oriel?’ he spoke just above a whisper. ‘Oriel are you here?’

  ‘Jason? Mon Dieu, Jason, are you okay?’ Her voice trembled. She sounded terrified.

  ‘My head hurts, but apart from that I think I’m okay. Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes, but they are making threats. I’m scared, Jason. We have to get out of here.’

  ‘Have I been unconscious a long time?’ he whispered again. His throat felt dry and scratchy.

  She sobbed. ‘Yes, I think so. I kept trying to get your attention, but you wouldn’t answer, and I thought you were dead.’

  He pulled against his restraints but was unable to pull free. ‘Hey…hey, don’t cry. We’ll get out. We’ll figure this out
. Are you able to see?’

  ‘Oui, they took my cover off, so they could talk to me.’

  ‘Are there any of them in here?’

  ‘Non, they left about half an hour ago. Jason, I’m so scared.’

  ‘I know, but I won’t let anything happen to you.’

  ‘How can you say that? You’ve been knocked out. You could have…une commotion cérébrale. Sorry, I mean a... a concussion.’

  ‘No, I think I’m fine. Sore, but okay. Where are we?’

  ‘I don’t know. It looks like a similar building to our base. But darker. The windows are boarded over, and there isn’t much light. Only what is coming through the gaps in the wood.’

  ‘Okay…okay. How long have we been here?’

  ‘I’m not sure…a few hours. Jason, they killed some of the others.’

  He dropped his head forward as the pain of her words sunk in. ‘Oh fuck, no.’

  ‘They say they will kill us next.’

  ‘But what do they want? Have they told you why we’re being held?’

  ‘They want us to leave, but they want weapons in exchange for letting us go.’

  ‘Shit, that won’t happen. Shit.’ He stamped his foot on the gritty floor beneath his boots and clenched his jaw. He had to get them out. He had to.

  He rifled through his memory, trying to remember what had led to them being captured. He’d been so vigilant. They had been travelling along the road back to the base. He remembered that it was dusk and that he’d been thankful the temperature had cooled somewhat. Suddenly, there had been a commotion, and the car in front had swerved and skidded around. Their vehicle had collided with it. There were gunshots, and he had reached for his own piece, clambering out of the vehicle and ducking to dodge the flying bullets. There had been a lot of shouting as his colleagues tried to contain the attack. Something had grabbed his arm, and he’d swung around only to find a terrified looking French woman clinging to him.

  ‘Get back in the truck, Ori,’ he had instructed her gruffly. She had shaken her head, her eyes pleading with him. More bullets flew past them, and he reached the front vehicle to find the driver and passenger had been shot dead. He had muttered expletives under his breathe and turned to face Oriel only to receive a fast blow to his head. He heard a loud, blood-curdling scream before everything went black.

  ‘I’m so fucking terrified, Stevie. What the fuck will I do if he…if anything—’

  ‘No! We can’t think that way, Dillon! We just can’t.’ Stevie’s hands shook as she held the telephone in one hand and clutched the handkerchief that was scrunched up in her other hand. She’d had to take a leave of absence from work for a few days after finding out about Jason’s kidnapping, and her life had gone into a kind of emotional meltdown.

  She couldn’t sleep or eat, and her mother had resorted to staying over on a regular basis. Stevie blamed herself entirely for what had happened. If only she hadn’t been with Marcus when Jason arrived. If only she’d reacted quicker and gone after him. If only she’d called as soon as she knew he was on the way back to Scotland. All the if onlys in the world couldn’t change the fact that Jason’s life was now in danger, and she may never see him again.

  Taking a shaking breath, she spoke again. ‘Dillon, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.’ Her voice was a mere whisper.

  ‘Hey, stop that right now! He chose to go out there. This is his doing. I’m so fucking angry with him. Terrified, but fucking angry. He could’ve gone to America. Hell, he could’ve bloody stayed here and faced up to life like an adult. But no. He had to fucking run! I’m sick of this. I know he’s had shit to deal with, but so have I. So have we all.’

  ‘I just feel so responsible.’ Stevie sobbed as she felt her mother’s hand squeeze her shoulder.

  ‘Well, don’t. I don’t blame you. Oliver doesn’t blame you either. So get that out of your head, okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ she lied. ‘Please call me if you hear any news.’

  ‘Of course I will. Take care, Stevie.’

  ‘You too. Bye, Dillon.’

  The following Wednesday was a big day for Stevie. With everything that was going on in her personal life, she almost handed in her resignation, but Mollie convinced her that she could get through it all. And so there she sat nervously waiting for Anthony Carmichael to call her in. Several minutes later and the moment arrived.

  She walked nervously into his office.

  ‘Ah, Mrs. Norton, good to see you. Please come in.’

  Stevie couldn’t be bothered anymore. All she wanted to do was hear what he had to say and to go back home again to drown her sorrows. ‘Anthony, why the hell are you being so formal? I’ve known you for years and this,’ she gestured between them, ‘formality isn’t necessary, is it?’

  Anthony frowned and cleared his throat. ‘Ahem…okay, Stevie, as you know there were many people interviewed for the post of Head of Science. The post will begin following the Christmas break, and so there will be a lot of preparation involved…’

  After receiving the news she had been waiting for, Stevie left the office in a bit of a daze. Christmas. It was hard to think of such a happy time when she knew that Jason was sitting somewhere he didn’t want to be with cruel people doing goodness knows what to him. She shuddered. Deep down she hoped that by Christmas Jason would be back in the UK and he would be fine, but realistically these situations rarely ended positively.

  She had been watching the news avidly for some sign that he was still alive, but as yet the news had been focussing on other seemingly more important stories like the recession. Never mind that the love of her life was being held against his will in some shit hole being tortured or worse yet…he was dead. It was strange how the world carried on around her whilst her own was falling apart.

  She walked back into the staff room where she knew Mollie was waiting.

  Mollie stood up and rushed over as soon Stevie stepped in through the door. ‘Well? How did it go?’

  ‘I…I got the job.’

  Mollie squealed and pulled her into a hug. She didn’t reciprocate, but instead stood feeling completely numb. She knew she should be excited. This was a fantastic career move after all, an amazing opportunity. But the excitement she should be feeling had been quashed, stamped on by so many things it was hard to even decipher them all.

  How the hell she was going to get things organised in her current state of mind was beyond her, but she knew she would do it. She had to. Mollie was still jabbering on, but all Stevie caught was, ‘And the rest of your life starts now!’

  The rest of my life? Oh.

  A door opened and there was a lot of shouting in French. Jason heard Oriel’s panicked voice. He could tell she was pleading with their captors as they shouted. The next noise he heard was a loud slap, and Oriel’s pained voice crying out. A loud growl left his throat involuntarily. He too was hit with a force so great his head whipped back and struck the hard surface of the wall behind him. Determined not to show that he was hurt, Jason made no sound. A husky voice spoke venomously in his ear.

  ‘Il ne parle pas francais!’ He heard Oriel call through her tears. Her voice was laced with fear, and he was desperate to get to her. The husky voice spoke to Oriel in a demanding tone.

  ‘Jason…he…he says you are a pussy, and he is going…to…cut your eyes out. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Oriel, it’s okay. We’ll be okay. Can you try to get them to let you sit beside me? Tell them I’m your lover or whatever and that you want to be beside me before we die or…just do what you can.’

  ‘What? Why? I don’t—’

  ‘Please, just do it.’

  ‘Okay. S’il vous plait, laissez moi m’asseoir avec lui.’ Her voice wavered as she uttered the words that he didn’t understand.

  ‘Pourquoi?’ the husky voice replied.

  ‘Il…il est mon fiancé. Je l’aime. Et J’ai peur. S’il vous plait…s’il vous plait.’

  There was some quiet chatter in French again, and Jason inwardly
cursed himself for not paying more attention in school.

  ‘I told them you are my fiancé and that I’m afraid and want to be near you. They are trying to decide if I can sit by you. But they are arguing.’ Once again she sounded scared and the confident tone Jason was used to had gone.

  He heard shuffling sounds and suddenly felt what he presumed was Oriel’s body heat beside him.

  The husky voiced man laughed eerily. ‘Vous serez bientot mort.’

  ‘What did he say?’ Jason asked, turning his head towards where he believed Oriel was sitting.

  ‘Ohhh…non…non…Je vous en supplie…non.’ Whack! He felt the air shift as Oriel was struck again. Her body jerked towards him on impact and he heard the pain filled grunt rush from her body.

  ‘Stop! Please stop! Arreter! S’il vous plait!’ Jason shouted pleadingly, hoping that his words made sense to them and that they listened. They just laughed. The men seemed to quiet down, and they left the room, slamming the door behind them. The bottom of the door made an ear-piercing screech as it scraped along the floor. And once again they were left to the silence and stench of damp and urine.

  ‘Oh God, Oriel, are you okay?’ He wanted to put his arms around her but couldn’t move.

  ‘Yes…yes. Don’t worry. I’m okay.’ Her voice was still shaky and filled with emotion.

  ‘What was it they said that scared you so much? I heard mort which I’m pretty sure is something to do with death.’

  ‘They said that we will be dead soon.’ There was a distinct note of desolation to her voice.

  His mind began to spin as he tried desperately to formulate a plan.

  ‘Okay, I think I have a way to try to get us out of here. But we’ll need to work together. For the next couple of days or whatever it takes, we need to figure out and memorise their routine, okay? What time of day is it now?’

  ‘I…I—’

  ‘When the door opened, did you see any light coming through? Or did it seem dark?’