Woman In Chains

by Bridget Midway

  So Rebekah did know how to defend herself. Why did she seem so scared to show that side of herself through their lessons?

  “Oh, I will tell you this. Her old man filed a missing person report about five years ago. The girl just dropped out and was never heard from again. I know if I were a parent and someone found my kid, I would want to see her or him again.” McCreevey gave Dak her father’s name, phone number, and address. “Do the right thing, Dak. I know you will.”

  “Hey, thanks for all of the info. What do I owe you?” Dak shoved the piece of paper in his pocket.

  “Don’t ever bring up that I owe you for Kuwait again, and you can call us even.”

  Dak laughed. “Deal. Let me ask you something on a serious note. That offer.”

  “Yes?”

  “You know, the one where I work for you—”

  “Are you straight up, man?”

  Dak had thought long and hard on this. He liked acting outside of the box, bucking all of the rules, which wouldn’t work as a regimented officer of the law. Plus, it would be great to work with his friend again.

  “I’m serious. Tell me what I need to do to become a private investigator.”

  “Give me a call tomorrow. I’ll talk to you about it. You won’t regret it.”

  How could Dak regret finally taking control of his life, his career? “Talk to you later.” He disconnected the call and walked to the doorway.

  Rebekah looked at him and skipped over to him. “Would it freak you out to mount the picture over your bed? You know, a sleeping you above a sleeping you.”

  He smiled, but as he stared at her, he saw a confused little girl who worried her only relative. “Sounds good. Hey, why don’t we get dressed and go take a ride?”

  “Will this be like when we went to the Oasis?” She slid her hands under his shirt.

  “Better. Get dressed. I hope you like this surprise.”

  She gave him a quick kiss before she ran into his bedroom to dress. He went down into her studio and gathered up some of her paintings and drawings. A father who worried about his daughter would want to see everything she’d done. Dak would do something right for a change.

  ****

  Since their trip to the Oasis restaurant, Dak and Rebekah didn’t make a lot of trips out in public. Although she loved her time in his home, going to the outside world had an appeal. In the chilly November day, Rebekah dressed in jeans that actually fit her and a sweater. Underneath she wore no underwear, just the way Dak liked it.

  She held his hand as he drove and noticed how cold and clammy his hand had become.

  “Are you okay?” She put his hand on her leg. “You’ve been so quiet since the phone call. Everything all right?”

  Dak stole little glances at her. “Yes.” He smiled, then shook his head. “No, it’s not all right. A few weeks ago when you were still refusing to tell me much about you, I had a detective friend of mine do some research to find out who you are.”

  Rebekah let his hand go. “You what?”

  “I didn’t think you would ever tell me about yourself, and I couldn’t get with my other friend to find out more about you, so had him do some checking on you.” Dak glanced at her. “This was way before we got to know each other and the trust issues we had between us. He told me about your juvenile record. The vandalism and stolen car.”

  She shook her head. “None of that is true. Someone commissioned me to do a mural on the side of his home, then when he didn’t like it, or rather when I wouldn’t date him, and I asked to be paid, he called the police and said I’d vandalized his property. My father did loan me his car. When I came home thirty minutes late because I got caught by a train, he reported the car stolen. I can’t believe you spied on me.”

  “I didn’t. I told you that I asked for this information when you refused to tell me anything about yourself.”

  “And you couldn’t wait for me to feel comfortable enough to eventually tell you?” The hairs stood on the back of Rebekah’s head.

  “I didn’t know if that would eventually happen. When he called me with the information, I didn’t even want to hear it. But he told me, and you’ve explained them all, even though you didn’t have to. I don’t care what you did in your past. All I care about is you.”

  She turned to look at the main road. Everything around them looked so familiar. Not until Dak drove by the corner store that Rebekah used to go to as a child and turned into her old neighborhood that her heart accelerated.

  “Where are you going? What are you doing?”

  Just like when he had kidnapped her from Master Blade’s home, she felt ready to jump from a moving vehicle.

  “Your father put in a missing person report right after you left. I’m sure he’s worried sick about you. All he wants is closure to see that his baby girl is okay.”

  “What? Are you kidding? You can’t take me there.” She tried unlocking her door, but he kept it locked until he slowed the truck to a stop in front of her old house.

  “I talked to your father on the phone while you were getting dressed. He really misses you and was so excited to see you again.”

  She grabbed his hands. “You don’t understand what you’re doing. I don’t want to be here.”

  “Why? What’s going on?” Dak glanced up at the house, then back at her. “Are you afraid that your father will be angry with you for not contacting him?”

  She couldn’t speak. What could she say? That her abusive prick of a father had made her life a living hell growing up?

  “Don’t worry. All he wants is to sit down and catch up on old times. He wants to make sure you’re okay.” He got out of the truck and walked around to her side.

  When he opened the door, she couldn’t move from her spot. She’d sworn when she left this brick home with green vinyl siding across the top five years ago that she would never come back. Had her father really changed?

  He held out his hand. “Come on.”

  She shook her head. “No.” She continued shaking her head. “No.” Then with her hands balled into fists, she punched him in the chest and pushed him back. “No! I don’t want to be here! You shouldn’t have brought me here.” She peered over Dak’s shoulder as soon as the front door opened.

  Her father stood there looking nearly the same as when she’d left him over five years ago. He stood before her looking frail and scrawny. Once a tall, thin man, he now appeared hunched over. The cane in his hand let her know that he needed help staying steady on his feet. His once salt-and-pepper hair had turned white. Even in his frail state, she remembered his power over her.

  After pushing Dak back, she hurled herself from the truck, hunched over, and vomited. Every muscle in her body constricted so that even if she wanted to run away right now, she couldn’t.

  As soon as she stopped throwing up, she peered up and saw her father stepping off of the porch and coming toward her.

  “No!” She ran.

  She had no idea where she would go, just like when she’d run away so many years ago. Just like that time, she knew she couldn’t stay there.

  “Brea! Rebekah! Wait!”

  Rebekah heard Dak calling her from behind her, but she wouldn’t stop, couldn’t stop. Her feet recognized her urgency. They propelled her forward, getting her away from another bad situation.

  Run, run, girl, run! Get the hell out!

  Why would Dak think that seeing her father would be something that she would want? Although he didn’t know the full scope of her past relationship with her father, he should have listened to her in the truck when she begged him to keep going. He should have listened. He should have listened. Why didn’t he care?

  “Rebekah! Stop!”

  She finally turned around, unaware of where she had stopped or how far she had run.

  “Move!” Dak waved his hands in the air.

  She couldn’t figure out why he’d screamed that, until she looked to the side and saw a bright red truck heading for her. The world stopped.

&nbs
p; ****

  No, no, no! Dak had watched the truck swerve to miss hitting Rebekah, but the large side mirror smacked her in the face and knocked her down to the ground. By the time he got up to her, she lay motionless. She landed face down, one leg straight and the other leg with its knee off to the side. Her arms were stretched out to the sides.

  This couldn’t be happening to his angel. Again, he had caused her pain.

  “Come on, baby. Get up.” He crouched down next to her.

  “Don’t touch her.”

  Dak heard a voice say it from behind him, but he paid no attention to anyone around him. The woman lying on the ground—his woman, his submissive, his love—consumed his thoughts.

  Hold it together, Dak. You’ve seen a whole lot worse than this in combat.

  Yeah, but he didn’t feel for his fellow soldiers the way he did for Rebekah. In the short time she’d been with him, she’d captured his heart. He wanted to give her everything. Instead, he felt like he’d taken it all away in a split second.

  Dak started to turn her over when he heard the gravelly voice again, stronger and more forceful this time.

  “I said don’t touch her!”

  Dak turned to see who the hell had raised his voice to him.

  “Doc?” He blinked when he saw the elderly man hobble up to him.

  Doc, wearing worn overalls and a dirty blue trucker baseball cap, kneeled down next to Dak. “You don’t know if her neck is broken or if anything is going on with her spine.” Doc wrapped his hands around her neck to keep it still. “You could be doing her more damage than good.”

  “Holy shit!” The driver of the truck emerged. “I didn’t even see her. Is she dead?”

  “Shut up!” Dak glared at the man.

  “Calm down, son.” Doc lowered his voice to a calming rumble.

  “I’m not your son.” Dak didn’t need these people. He just needed to take Rebekah home and take care of her.

  “But I’m trying to be your friend.” Doc’s eyes looked clear for the first time in a long time. “Let me help her. They don’t call me Doc for no reason.”

  Doc stared at Dak for a while before Dak brought his gaze back down to Rebekah.

  “Any one of you gawkers called nine-one-one yet?” Doc asked the crowd around him.

  Someone answered that she had. Not much later than that, Dak heard sirens coming closer.

  “I feel a pulse.” Doc nodded to Dak. “She’s going to be okay.”

  Dak covered his mouth and tried focusing his thoughts before speaking. “How do you know that?”

  Doc cocked a smile on the toothless side of his mouth. “Chalk it up to years of wisdom and experience.” He leaned forward. In a lowered voice, he said, “I’m not just a drunk.”

  Dak opened his mouth to refute the statement when Doc cut him off again.

  “And you’re not just a recluse.” He peered down at Rebekah’s still body. “You care about someone. I’m thinking she might care about you, too.”

  The ambulance pulled up to the scene, and three paramedics hopped out of the vehicle.

  “What happened?” one asked.

  “Truck versus pedestrian.” Doc leaned back on his haunches and attempted to stand.

  Dak got to his feet first and helped the elderly man to his feet. In that moment, Dak didn’t know what to say to Doc. How could he possibly thank the man enough for helping Rebekah and keeping him calm during the situation? If she made it through this, Dak would owe him his life.

  As though hearing Dak’s thoughts, Doc said, “You need to repay me for my keys.” Doc winked.

  Dak held Doc’s shoulders and stared the man in his eyes. “Thank you.”

  “Reimburse me for my keys, and we’ll call it even.” The no-fuss man trotted back to his truck.

  Dak stood in the middle of the chaos feeling more lost and out of control than ever. He only hoped that Rebekah would be okay…and that she would forgive him.

  Chapter Twenty

  The whole situation had turned out so wrong. Right about now, Dak had hoped he, Rebekah, and her father would be dining out together. He had wanted for Rebekah and her father to recall good times in their past. He hadn’t expected to be sitting in a hospital, waiting for Rebekah to wake up.

  Rebekah’s father had sounded so happy to know his daughter lived and that he would be seeing her again. Dak had hoped Rebekah’s father would have gotten that same look of pride in his eyes that Dak had when Rebekah first showed him her artwork.

  Dak had brought Rebekah’s artwork into the hospital room. He needed her life with him right now. The paintings confirmed her incredible existence and showed she had relevance. He glanced at the top picture, one he kind of remembered from its early stages, but not now. In it, it looked like someone loomed over a cowering person. The taller figure held his fist in the air.

  A statement Rebekah had made once repeated in Dak’s head. “After my mother died, I found safety in my room with my art.”

  She’d lived with her father, a former Army soldier. Why wouldn’t she have felt safe with him? Then he pieced together how she had reacted when he first got to his house. Rebekah feared the man.

  Why hadn’t Dak seen that? He of all people should have recognized her pain.

  Rebekah moaned and moved her head from one side to the other.

  He held her hand and moved in closer. “Come on, baby. Wake up. I’m here for you.” He stroked her hair with his other hand.

  She swallowed, then finally opened her eyes. She stared at him for a moment before her gaze scanned her surroundings. Once she took in the space, she brought her attention back to Dak.

  “Did you get the license plate number of the truck that hit me?” She offered a weak smile.

  He released a long breath. He kissed her forehead, which seemed hot enough to melt butter. “Make jokes all you want. I’m just happy you’re alive.”

  “What happened?” She struggled to sit up.

  He let her go long enough to help adjust the bed so that she sat up. “You don’t remember anything?”

  Rebekah blinked a few times and glanced at Dak. “You took me to see my father.”

  He nodded. “You ran. A truck hit you and knocked you out.” He snickered. “Doc, of all people, calmed me down and helped you.”

  “You let Doc help me?” With each word, her voice grew stronger and stronger.

  He nodded. “He did a great job. I shouldn’t have judged him so harshly.”

  “You do that a lot.”

  Dak blinked at her assessment, but she had been right. He thought she would have wanted to see her father. The clues of her past relationship with her father had been right in front of him. He just hadn’t listened to her. He hadn’t interpreted the signs around him.

  “I’m so sorry.” He held her hand. “Had I known he was like that, I would have never subjected you to it.”

  She let his hand go. “I told you I didn’t want to see him. You didn’t listen to me.” She turned away from him. “No one ever listens to me.”

  “I’m here. I’m listening now.” He put his hand to her chin to bring her attention back to him. After a deep breath, he said, “I’ve never shared this with anyone. My mother was English. About ten years ago, she died. My father was so in love with her, he started drinking heavily. It’s the reason why I don’t drink a lot of alcohol now.”

  “And why you drink a lot of tea?”

  He thought about her statement and nodded. “Yes, you’re right. She loved tea. I guess I got that from her.” He held Rebekah’s hand again. This time she didn’t pull away. “I tried getting my father to stop drinking, but he wouldn’t. I was fighting overseas when word got back to me that he’d passed away. I never got a chance to reconcile with him before he died. That’s why I wanted you to make up with your father. I didn’t want you having the same regret I did.”

  “Not the same.” She shook her head.

  “I see that.”

  “Is that why you gave Doc such a hard
time?”

  “Doc could be a good man if he stopped drinking.”

  “Then talk to him. Your father had a reason to drink. He wanted to suppress his pain. Maybe Doc is doing the same thing.”

  “And your father? What was his reason?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “He’s a miserable man who wanted the people around him to be just as unhappy as he was. I want to move past that. I understand now what you tried to do for me, but I don’t need to go back to move forward.”

  He moved in closer to her. “I don’t know what your father did to you. Just know that your life is more than the sum of your past. Your art matters. And you matter to me.” Dak brushed his lips over hers before planting a soft kiss. “I care about you more than anything. If anyone or anything hurts you again, I don’t know what I would do.”

  She gazed up at him. She looked so weak. Her naturally honey brown skin color appeared drained so that she looked pale. “When can I go home? I just want to sleep in your bed. I’m so tired.”

  “I’ll check with the doctors, but hopefully you’ll be able to leave soon with me.” He kissed her forehead and her lips.

  “Dakota? What are you doing here?”

  Dak peered up at the door and saw Moira heading to him. As soon as his friend’s gaze dropped to Rebekah, she held the arm that Rebekah had bitten and stopped in her tracks.

  “Hey, Moira.” Dak stood. “You remember—”

  “So you finally did it, didn’t you?” Moira shook her head. “You hurt her enough to put her in the hospital. I told you that you needed to put her—”

  Dak held up his hands to stop her. “Wait! Rebekah had an unfortunate accident not involving what you think. She was hit by a truck.”

  Moira’s eyes widened. “Running away from you?”

  Dak started to refute her statement but she’d been correct. “Well, yes. But it’s not what you think.”

  “You did something she didn’t like because you think you know what’s best for people. She ran and endangered herself. And now you’re here. I think I’m up to speed.” Moira crossed her arms over her chest.