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False Perceptions

Page 3

by Michelle Heard


  For a terrifying moment, he just stares at me.

  “Your father is George Swanson,” he states.

  Is this political?

  What the hell am I thinking? Of course, it’s political. Why else would they take me?

  “You support your father’s campaign,” he states again.

  I start to say that I don’t support the campaign, but then snap my mouth shut. Now is not the time to argue about whether I support my father or not. I doubt whether Bearded-Man is interested in the nature of the relationship between my father and me.

  “Senator Swanson will not negotiate with terrorists,” I whisper, trying to sound sure of my words. I want to show them that I’m not as scared as I look, but the fear trembles in every word that leaves my mouth.

  It’s the truth.

  America doesn’t negotiate with terrorists. Therefore my father won’t.

  “Terrorist. Is that what you think I am, Emilie?”

  “Yes.” The word comes out on a shivering breath. Even though the room is filled with sweltering heat, I can’t stop my body from trembling.

  “Your mother and sister died while you somehow miraculously survived. What marriage are you on? Three? Four? You destroy lives, and you dare judge me?” His voice echoes around the room.

  Shit! I should’ve kept quiet. Upsetting a terrorist is the worst thing I could possibly do right now.

  My heart races in my chest as my mouth goes bone dry with fear.

  A smile splits across his face, and he pats me on the shoulder. “I’m just fucking with you. I don’t care about your past. What I do care about is George Swanson and his plans for America.”

  My mind is whirling, and I’m unable to grasp what’s happening. One moment Bearded-Man scares me half to death, and the next he smiles at me.

  He must be insane.

  Shit, I’ve been taken by a bunch of psychopaths.

  “What I want from you is information. It’s simple. You give us the information we want, and I’ll give you a blanket. I’ll let you sleep on the floor instead of keeping you hanging like this. I’ll give you food.”

  I just stare at Bearded-Man. I know nothing of value about my father. We’re not close. I do what Father tells me to do, and he leaves me alone to live my life. That’s the extent of our father-daughter relationship.

  Even if I did have information, I wouldn’t give it to them. That would be a sure way of signing my death warrant.

  “What is the code to Senator Swanson’s house?”

  I shake my head, unable to summon the courage to say that I don’t know.

  Bearded-Man pulls a pair of black rubber gloves from his pocket and starts to put them on. My eyes nervously jump between his hands and his face. What is he going to do?

  The masked men loosen the rope until my hands fall limply to my sides. Pain engulfs my shoulders as numbness makes my fingers tingle.

  Bearded-Man walks over to the cooler and pulls a soaked rag from it. As he walks back to me, my heart beats faster. There’s a moment where Bearded-Man just smiles at me – it’s so eerie, like the calm before the storm – then he moves forward, and grabbing me around my waist, he swipes my feet from under me.

  He slams my body into the hard floor with a dull thud, and before I can blink through the pain tearing through me, Bearded-Man straddles my hips and pins me down. Pressing his left forearm against my throat, he cuts off my air supply which immediately makes me gag for air.

  He covers my mouth with the wet rag, then barks, “Pass me some water.”

  I hear hurried footsteps, and I try to see what the other men are doing, but with Bearded-Man’s arm against my throat, I can’t see anything but his face hovering above me.

  Distressed, I try to get air into my lungs. With numb fingers, I claw at my captor’s arm. I struggle to lift my hips from the floor so I can get the man off of me, but I’m unsuccessful.

  “Faster,” he barks again.

  Someone shoves something at him. A jug of water.

  My eyes widen as he starts to tip it over and then freezing water hits my face. I try to turn my head away from the waterfall of ice, but hands keep me in place, forcing me to gasp and gag. Unable to get precious air into my lungs, all I can do is cough as I breathe water.

  “What’s the code to Senator Swanson’s house?” It sounds like his voice is coming from miles away as my lungs start to burn and my chest feels like it’s imploding.

  Terror erases all logic from my mind as my heart slams against my ribs. My body starts to convulse, and it’s only then that the water stops. Bearded-Man’s weight lifts off of me, and I sluggishly turn onto my side as I start to vomit water and what little food I had in my stomach.

  He kneels next to me and places his hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

  “You’re strong, Emilie. I respect you for that. But you might as well talk now. Everyone gives up. There’s no shame in that. You can’t last forever.”

  As he starts to walk to the door, the two masked men grab my arms and drag me back to my feet, tightening the ropes again.

  With watering eyes and burning lungs, I watch them leave.

  Everyone gives up.

  He’s wrong. Not everyone. Not me.

  CHAPTER 4

  HAYDEN

  “What about February fourteenth,” Rhett asks Evie.

  I’ve been listening to them trying to decide on a wedding date for the past hour while trying to catch up on the news.

  My eyes find their way from the television screen to Evie, my daughter. Once again, I’m struck by how much she looks like Joey. Evie has the same wild red curls and petite features that her late mother had.

  I wish Joey was here to see what an amazing woman our daughter has become, but she died during childbirth.

  The past floods my memories as I think back on the mother of my child.

  Josephine Bailey. She was eighteen when she died. It happened a couple of weeks before I was due to return from serving my first tour in Afghanistan. I was broken when I learned that my fiancé and daughter had both died.

  For twenty-six years I believed Evie had died as well. I saw both their death certificates. My heart wouldn’t believe it, but my mind had to accept the cold facts that were staring at me from the official documents.

  Recently, I found out that the doctor had faked Evie’s death so he could pawn her off on the black market. I don’t know if anyone adopted her during her first years. The feeble trail I managed to uncover had run cold with the doctor’s death.

  Just as well that the fucker died. I would’ve killed him with my bare hands if he were still alive.

  Rhett found Evie living on the streets. The thought of my baby girl having to sleep out in a cold gutter still gives me nightmares. But thankfully Rhett helped her to get off the streets.

  My eyes settle on the man who saved my daughter, and I smile. Rhett’s parents died in an accident. The only family he has now is his close group of friends. The little bit I’ve learned from the group’s past tells me none of them had it easy, even though they grew up wealthy.

  If ever two people belonged together it was Evie and Rhett.

  Rhett wouldn’t harm a hair on my daughter’s head. Besides, he knows I’d kill him.

  Evie is my life.

  “February fourteenth? Are you serious?” Evie glares at Rhett which makes me chuckle.

  “What’s wrong with Valentine’s Day?” Rhett asks.

  Oh man, he still has a lot to learn about women.

  “It’s stupid,” Evie replies, giving him an unimpressed look. “Everyone gets married then. Our day won’t be special. It won’t be ours.”

  “What about your mom’s birthday?” I ask. “It’s on October seventh.”

  Evie gasps as her head swings to me. She starts to nod eagerly as her eyes fill with tears.

  “That’s perfect,” Rhett agrees, looking relieved that I’ve saved him from another hour of planning their wedding date.

  Evie smiles as
her eyes dart between Rhett and me. “You sure? It would be perfect.”

  “It would be an honor to marry you on your mother’s birthday,” Rhett says.

  I get up and grab myself a bottle of water from the fridge before returning to the couch.

  “Rhett, you owe me,” I chuckle, then I bring the bottle to my lips, taking a sip.

  Just as I focus on the television screen, there’s a knock at the door.

  “Rhett, please open for them,” I say, really not in the mood to get up again.

  “Sure thing.” Quickly jumping up, Rhett opens the front door for my team.

  I watch as the four men I call my brothers walk into the apartment, each taking a moment to fuck around with Rhett. By the time they’re done with him, his black hair’s a total mess, and he’s breathing hard as if he just went ten rounds in the ring.

  They move onto Evie, who gets a bear hug and kiss on the cheek from each of the men.

  Dave drops down next to me and grabs the bottle of water from my hand. “What are we watching, old man?”

  “Little shit,” I growl, taking the bottle back before he can take a sip. “Get your own.”

  Dave looks over his shoulder to where Axel is standing in front of the open fridge.

  “Grab me a bottle of water?” Dave calls.

  Axel does just that then proceeds to throw it our way. I duck, and it hits Dave against his neck before rolling into his lap.

  “Glad to know you can still see with all that hair on your face,” Dave jokes as he takes a swig of the water.

  “It’s a fucking beard!” Axel roars.

  “Language!” Max snaps from where he’s taken a seat at the small table by the window. Evie has a bowl of candy set up on it just for him. Max can’t resist anything with sugar. It’s a miracle he still has teeth.

  Mike sits down by Evie and Rhett, taking a look at the planning they’ve done for the wedding so far.

  “Have you finally decided on a date?” he asks.

  “Yeah, October seventh,” Rhett answers.

  “It’s my mom’s birthday,” Evie adds.

  “Good one,” Mike says, then asks Rhett, “What are you getting Evie as a wedding present?”

  A new look of worry settles on Rhett’s face, and it’s clear he hasn’t even thought about that yet.

  “Dude, you better start thinking about that. If you get her a shitty present-”

  “Language,” Max growls around a mouthful of taffy.

  Mike rolls his eyes at Max, then goes on as if he wasn’t just interrupted.

  “If you get her a crap present then your marriage is gonna go down the shitter at the speed of light.”

  A candy bar smacks Mike right against his forehead, and as it drops, Mike catches and then proceeds to eat it.

  These men are my family. Before Evie, I only had them. I teamed up with Axel first, who looks like a grizzly bear. You’d think because of his size that people would be scared of him, but the second they see Max, they’d rather take their chances with Axel.

  Max looks scruffy with his short shaven hair and the light dusting of hair on his jaw, but it’s his eyes. They’re always on guard, and he can make a grown man shit his pants with just one look.

  Mike is the baby in our group, and also the newest member. He’s too pretty for his own good, and he knows it. Women fall at his feet the moment they lay eyes on his baby blues and dark hair, but he’s happily married.

  Then there’s Dave. From the first day we met, we’ve been inseparable. We just clicked even though I’m ten years his senior.

  “Are we getting Chinese?” Dave asks.

  “We always get Chinese, dude,” Axel grumbles. “I vote for BBQ wings.”

  “I can do with some meat,” Mike says, without looking up from one of the bridal magazines Evie bought earlier today.

  “I’m sure you could do with some meat,” Dave jokes. “See a dress you like in there?”

  Mike drops the magazine and jumps over the small coffee table between the couches to get to Dave.

  Dave ducks, covering his head with his arms as Mike swats him upside the head.

  “I was looking at the jewelry, asshole,” Mike quickly defends. “Gabs’ birthday is coming up.”

  “BBQ wings sound good,” Max says as he scoops up all the wrappers and goes to toss them in the trash can.

  “That settles it,” Axel says as he pulls his phone from his back pocket so he can place the order.

  Everyone settles down, and I turn up the volume on the television. Every now and then when Evie sees a dress she likes, she jabs Rhett in the side to get his attention.

  A picture of a blonde woman on the television screen catches my attention, and I turn up the volume a little more.

  “Senator Swanson isn’t available for comments at this time.”

  Frowning, I turn down the volume clearly having missed the broadcast.

  “Have you heard?” Mike asks as he leans forward so he can look at Dave and me at the same time.

  “Heard what?”

  “Emilie Swanson was kidnapped. The kidnappers want Senator Swanson to step down from running for the presidency, or they’ll kill her. Gabs has been following the story obsessively.”

  “That’s horrible,” Evie gasps.

  I tap Dave on the arm who in turn punches Mike for me. He knows better than to talk about anything that might be upsetting to Evie.

  “Fuck you, fucker,” Mike wines as he rubs his ribs.

  Max slaps Mike upside the head. “Language!”

  “Would you all stop with the abuse,” Mike groans as he gets up and walks over to Evie. He plants his ass right next to her. “It’s safer here by you. Show me which dresses you like most.”

  CHAPTER 5

  EMILIE

  I can’t remember when last I ate or had something to drink.

  Hot tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Just like with Robert, I’m not willing to show these animals a sliver of emotion. Monsters like them feed off it. They want to see you break.

  I will not break. It’s the only thing I have control over. If I’m going to die, then I’m taking my pride with me.

  The door screeches open, and Bearded-Man comes in followed by two men in masks. One is carrying a wooden chair.

  The chair is placed behind me, and as they loosen the ropes, my body slumps back. Harsh hands grip my shoulders and shove me against the chair. I can barely sit upright, but it’s so much better than hanging. My back protests from the sudden change in posture, but I bite through the ache.

  Bearded-Man gently picks up my left hand and folds my fingers around a small bottle of juice. He twists the cap off and helps me to lift it to my mouth. The tart flavor bursts over my tongue as I take a tentative sip of the orange juice.

  Oh, Lord. I’ve never tasted anything so good.

  I want to gulp it all down, but force myself to take small sips, not wanting to make myself sick.

  “Nice, isn’t it?” Bearded-Man asks.

  A traitorous tear slips from the corner of my right eye because I finally have something to ease my desperate thirst. It doesn’t help that my captor has decided to be nice to me either.

  He takes hold of my right hand and again folds my fingers around a wrapper. It looks like a turkey sandwich. With his help, I manage to take a small bite, and it takes a lot of willpower to not groan in delight as the flavors fill my mouth. I chew slowly, wanting to savor every taste.

  One of the masked men brings in another chair for Bearded-Man to sit on. He positions it right across from me, our knees almost touching.

  There’s a gentle smile on his face which makes him look so human that for a stupid moment I hesitantly smile back at him.

  “I need you to do me a favor,” he says, the smile still on his face.

  I take another bite before taking two huge sips of orange juice. The bottle makes a cracking sound as I press it to my chest while I take another bite of the sandwich. The trembling is so bad that I�
��m scared I might drop my precious food and drink.

  He takes out a phone and holds it up with the camera lens directed at me.

  “I’m going to make a recording for Senator Swanson. You need to tell him that he has to step down from running for the presidency.”

  I swallow hard on the turkey and bread as my shoulders curl forward and my fingers dig into the wrapper and bottle.

  “When I nod you start talking,” Bearded-Man says.

  He presses something on the phone and nods at me.

  I don’t look at the camera, but instead, I keep my eyes on his face.

  This is going to end badly.

  Shit.

  I should’ve eaten faster. I should’ve downed every drop from the bottle. Even though I know I’m going to be punished, I can’t say the words.

  The smile around his mouth slowly starts to fade as the silence between us stretches thin. He looks up and to the right of me, then nods.

  When one of the masked men grabs hold of my wrists, a shriek escapes me. I fight to hold onto my sandwich and juice, but he manages to pry the vital items from my fingers.

  What’s left of my food and juice is thrown on the floor. Grabbing hold of my biceps, I’m yanked from the chair. My knees slam against the hard floor before I’m dragged a few feet away.

  Shit. This is it. They’re going to kill me.

  Should I have talked? Was I wrong to stay quiet?

  I can’t see the phone as Bearded-Man starts to yell, “What’s the security code to Senator Swanson’s house? Where does he like to eat lunch? Does he play golf? With who?”

  Do they want this information so they can assassinate Father? I’ll never give it to them. We might not get along, but he’s still my father, and I will not betray him.

  Oh, God. I’m going to die.

  I’m not ready to die. There’s so much I still want to do with my life.

  I need to prove to myself that I don’t need a man to be happy.

  I want to show the world what I’m made of.

  I can’t die yet. Not here. Not when I’ve been reduced to nothing.

  I want to scream that it’s not fair! I want to weep for the dreams I haven’t had a chance to dream yet.

 

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