Lila pulled her into a hug then walked her up to her room and sat on the bed with her. “Violet, I want you to feel like you can tell me anything. I’m here for you—both of you girls. Even though Atlas is missing and Dad’s in the hospital, I’m here for you. We’re family. If you need to talk about anything, just tell me. Okay?”
“You’re not going to judge me? Like you just did?”
Lila paused. “I’ll try not to. But if I do, you can point it out.”
“Really? You won’t get mad?”
She shook her head.
“All right.” Violet yawned.
“We have to stick together. Now more than ever.” Lila kissed her cheek. “But for now, let’s get some sleep. We need that with everything going on, and hopefully Dad will come home in the morning.”
“You think so?”
She nodded. “Get some sleep, hon.”
“Goodnight, Mom.”
Lila plodded into the hall and went to bed. Though it had been a while since Morgan had actually slept in there, she felt more lonely than she had in a long time. After seeing him being shot at, everything had changed. She realized how much she actually loved him and wanted to work things out despite everything.
She wanted to talk to him about Violet, about Atlas, and everything else. To make sure he was okay. But now that she wanted him there, he wasn’t. Neither he nor Atlas were.
The thought of that was enough to make her crumble. Her heart shattered again—it was becoming an all too common occurrence—and she sobbed into her pillow, not wanting to risk the girls hearing her. They needed their rest, especially if they were going to return to school the next day.
Once Lila had cried out everything she had, she rolled over and tried to sleep. But despite her deep exhaustion, sleep only taunted her. She tossed and turned, unable to find relief.
Finally, she got up and pulled out her old scrapbooks. She hadn’t made any since the kids were little. She’d gotten too busy, and besides that, more digital options had become available.
Lila started with Atlas’s baby book. She gushed over the sweet pictures she hadn’t looked at in far too long, trying not to think about the fact that he was missing. It was hard not to look at the photos of Morgan in a different light. She’d never had any other reason to think it hadn’t been his first experience as a parent.
Now she could see more than just first-time Dad nerves in his expressions. It was all-out terror, masked with a smile. He’d been afraid Atlas would die, too. And he hadn’t had anyone to talk to about it. Even if he’d have wanted to tell Lila about baby Morgan, he’d have kept it to himself so she wouldn’t have worried.
Guilt stung her. She’d been so focused on the fact that he’d kept it all secret from her that she hadn’t considered what he’d gone through. And based on these pictures, his past had ripped him in two. Maybe to shreds.
Lila grabbed the girls’ baby books and flipped through them. Morgan looked more at ease, but he still had the look of fear in his eyes. Not as heightened, but it was there. It seemed to lift after the twins were a few months old, but it didn’t leave entirely.
She stared into his hurting eyes from so long ago and wanted to go back in time and do something to help. How had he carried that weight on his own for so long? His parents were dead, and he had no friends from back when he’d lost the baby, so he’d had literally nobody to talk to about the crushing pain.
And Lila had gotten angry with him after she’d found out. Hardly had a shred of sympathy, if any at all. Was she a monster?
Probably.
Guilt ripped through her. She needed to talk to him, to apologize. But it was so late.
Maybe he was awake. Nurses were always waking patients. Lila had hardly gotten two straight hours of sleep anytime she’d been admitted to the hospital.
On the other hand, if he was sleeping, she didn’t want to wake him.
Lila looked back and forth between his picture and her cell phone. Did she risk waking him? She really needed to apologize and get that off her chest.
After another moment of hesitation, she decided it was worth the risk. He would understand. More than that, he’d appreciate the gesture. Calling to express her regret because she couldn’t sleep over it.
She went back over to her bed and grabbed her phone from the nightstand, pausing for just a moment before calling Morgan’s.
One ring. Two. Three. Four.
Lila was about to end the call when she heard the shuffling noises of the call being answered.
Morgan cleared his throat. “Lila? Is everything okay?”
Female laughter sounded in the background.
Lila’s stomach twisted, but she ignored it. It was probably just a nurse. But why would she be laughing?
“Lila?” Morgan asked.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No. The nurse just took my vitals.” He yawned. “That’s more important than sleep.”
More laughter in the background.
“Is that who’s laughing?” Lila asked.
“Yeah. We were exchanging stories about difficult patients. Is everything okay? Why are you up at this hour?”
“Couldn’t sleep. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” She wanted to say more, but not with a woman laughing in the same room he was in. That was hardly the setup for a deep talk.
“Really?” His tone softened. “That’s so sweet of you, Lila. Thank you. I’m doing good. They’ve already allowed me to lower the pain meds. I should be ready to come home in the morning. Will you be able to pick me up?”
“I’ll be there. Just let me know what time.”
“Should be around eleven. But I can let you know if that changes. Get some rest, okay? I’m going to be just fine.”
“Okay.” It was probably better that she apologize in person, anyway. “You get some sleep, too.”
“I will if the nurses leave me alone for more than a minute.”
More laughter in the background.
Lila frowned. It really wasn’t that funny. “Goodnight, Morgan.”
“Sweet dreams.” He ended the call.
She stared at the screen for a moment before lying down. The whole thing seemed odd. Nurses had never joked around with her when she’d been in the hospital.
Maybe it was different because Morgan was a doctor. She might know that if she and Morgan had been close at all over the years. Stories about difficult patients might be that funny, but the timing was odd. Morgan had just been shot and his son was missing. There really wasn’t anything to laugh about.
Unless the drugs they’d given him made him loopy. Hopefully that was all it was.
Not that it made her feel any better. Shouldn’t the nurse have been more professional? Even more so with him being a doctor?
Or maybe she was making too much of the whole thing because she was already on edge. That could’ve been it.
She tossed and turned for a while, then finally reached for the phone again and called Morgan.
“Hello?” said a perky feminine voice.
Lila nearly dropped the phone. “Is this Morgan’s number?”
“Yes. He’s sleeping. Do you want me to wake him?”
“No. I’ll be there in the morning.”
“Okay. I’ll let him know. Bye.”
Lila ended the call and sat up. Like hell she’d wait until morning. She stormed to the bathroom to get ready.
22
Atlas James
* * *
Something bumped Atlas’s arm as he rolled over. For a moment, he thought he was home, safe in his bed. Then reality hit him like a punch to the throat.
He sat up. A blanket fell from his chest into his lap.
A blanket? He didn’t have that before. He felt around, finding a pillow, warm from his head. That hadn’t been there before, either.
What was going on?
Atlas felt around some more, and found what he’d bumped against while sleeping.
A plate. Big
ger this time, and it had three sandwiches. Three! Not only that, but there were some chips on the side.
His mouth watered, and he grabbed a piece of sandwich and stuffed as much of it as he could fit into his mouth. It was tempting to swallow it whole, but he forced himself to chew. Again, it was his favorite.
After he finished the piece, he grabbed a handful of the chips and stuffed those into his mouth, too. They were ranch-flavored—again, his favorite.
Why were the people holding him captive giving him his favorites? Could it just be a coincidence, or did they know? But if they cared so much, why lock him up in the first place?
None of this made any sense. They hadn’t hurt him, and they hadn’t come in while he was awake. Now a pillow and blanket along with more food?
He wasn’t exactly in a place to be asking questions, unable to get out of the shed and starving.
Atlas scarfed down the rest of the food, then felt around and found a can of pop. Upon opening it, he found it to be root beer, also a favorite. Was it just a coincidence that all of these were his favorites? They were all pretty common, so it was possible. But it was also strange that his captors had given him his favorite of each one.
He leaned against the pillow and let the food settle while he thought about it. Why was his captor giving him comfort foods? Why hold him at all? What was the point? Were they just softening him up before torturing him? And what about Emmett?
The sound of Emmett’s scream back at the asylum rang through his mind and sent a chill down his spine. Where were they keeping him? Or had they done something terrible to him? Why not allow Atlas and Emmett to be in the shed together?
More questions swam through his mind. Nothing made any sense, and beyond that, he just wanted to go home. He would even take talking to his father—something he’d been avoiding because of the secret his dad forced him to keep. As promised, he’d kept it from his mom and sisters, but he’d told Emmett and Brielle. He had always told them everything. If he didn’t, one of them would figure out he was keeping something from them.
Except for one secret.
Brielle had figured out that he was in love. Madly, head-over-heels in love with someone. He’d kept her identity from them. But it was different from what Dad was keeping to himself. Atlas’s secret didn’t hurt anyone.
Atlas hated keeping Dad’s first family from Mom and the twins. They deserved to know, especially Mom. But Dad had convinced him that she was better off not knowing. Atlas doubted that, and if—no, when—he got out of the shed, he was going to tell Dad as much. Maybe insist on telling Mom if he didn’t. It wasn’t right keeping that kind of thing from her.
First, he had to get out of the shed. He’d already spent what felt like hours and hours trying to find a way out. He was probably on camera, and his captors were probably watching him remotely, laughing at him because there was no way out.
Atlas’s chest tightened. He hated lying there, but what else was he supposed to do? There was literally no way out, short of waiting for his captors to return and trying to make his escape then. But back to his camera theory—they’d only come in when he slept.
What he needed to do was keep himself in shape. He’d been in there for days. Of that much, he was sure. He needed to do some basic exercises before he grew weak.
He got up and felt his way to the corner with the bucket and lifted the lid. The odor was even more foul than last time. He held his breath as he relieved himself then quickly replaced the lid, glad to at least have the bucket. If it wasn’t there, the whole shed would smell like that.
Atlas went back to the makeshift bed and stretched his legs, then his arms and neck. Everything ached and protested. That only showed him how much he needed this. After stretching everything, he did a few jumping jacks. His body cried out in pain, but he did as many as possible. He followed them with some pushups and burpees, again fighting through the pain. He walked in place to catch his breath before doing some painful squats, kicks, punches, and a few other exercises until his muscles burned and he could barely breathe.
It felt good. And if he kept it up, pushing himself and doing more rounds of the same, he’d be ready to face his captors—or captor, if he was lucky. What he would probably have to do would be to fake sleep. His first attempt would be to run outside and find his way home. If that didn’t work, he’d fight. He didn’t care how many of them there were. He needed to try.
Atlas walked over to the door and turned the knob on the off chance that his captors had forgotten to lock it.
They hadn’t.
He pulled and tugged, but it wouldn’t budge. Not that he’d expected it to, but he had to hope. It was the only thing he had to cling to. Without hope of escape, what did he have?
Atlas leaned against the door and wiped his forehead, trying to catch his breath.
His foot hit something small and rectangular. The thing fell over.
He bent down and felt for it, hoping it wasn’t a bomb. But even if it was, he’d be dead whether he touched the thing or not. He had nowhere to go.
His fingers wrapped around it. It was smooth, like some kind of electronic device. A rubber band held a paper to it.
Atlas removed the rubber band and paper and felt the item. It was a camera.
His pulse raced. What was it for? What did they want him to do?
He unfolded the paper, but couldn’t read the writing. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness just enough to see that there was writing, but not make anything out. He fumbled with the camera until he was able to use the flash as a light.
It was a letter addressed to him, printed from a computer on a blocky text.
* * *
Atlas Morgan James,
This camera has been provided to you for the purpose of begging for your life. You need to be convincing. Beg, plead, use tears if you have to. Ask your parents for help. The more dramatic and believable, the better.
Make it quick. Don’t wait. Just do it. Time isn’t on your side.
Before you think about not following these orders, just know that Emmett’s fate rests in your hands. If you don’t do exactly as instructed, he will pay for it.
Oh, and one more thing. You’ll need to mention your girlfriend.
By her name.
~Your friend, if you follow the directions
* * *
Atlas read the note several times, his heart thundering harder each time,
They knew about Savannah?
He couldn’t give her name. She’d lose her job, or worse, go to jail. But if he didn’t, then they would hurt Emmett. Would they kill him? The note said his fate rested on Atlas.
Barely breathing, Atlas turned off the light and slid to the floor, still leaning against the wall.
What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t out Savannah. He just couldn’t. He’d promised her he’d make sure she never got in trouble. The rules were stupid. They couldn’t help falling in love, and it wasn’t like Atlas was a kid. He was eighteen, an adult. It was only a technicality that he was in school, still living with his parents.
The heart wants what it wants, and what he and Savannah had was the real deal. They were only five years apart. That was two years less of a difference than his parents, and they’d been married for almost twenty years. Nobody had any problem with them being together. In fact, they celebrated their anniversary every year.
He and Savannah just needed to wait out the school year, then they could be together openly. Nobody could say a thing about it then.
She was no predator. In fact, she’d tried to deny their connection at first. She’d said it was wrong, that they needed to focus on his studies. That was why she was tutoring him.
Atlas had been the one determined to pursue the spark between them. He couldn’t deny his feelings, and he knew she couldn’t, either. When they were apart, she was all he could think about. And he could see the same fire in her eyes.
They were meant to be together. That much had been made clear the first time
he’d kissed her. He’d been so scared, his hands were actually shaking. He had been half-sure she’d either slap him or send him to the office. Instead, she’d returned the kiss. It’d been the most passionate kiss he’d ever experienced, lighting his whole world on fire. She’d become a drug he couldn’t get enough of, no matter how many moments they stole together.
The only obstacle in their way was their age. If he’d have been a teacher at the school instead of a student, there wouldn’t have been a problem.
Now the jerk who had him locked in the shed wanted him to out her. To get her in trouble. To lose her job—and maybe never be able to teach again. Possibly even go to jail.
There was no way he would do that to Savannah. Especially not after he’d promised to protect her. It would kill him to see anything happen to her. She didn’t deserve to have anything bad happen. She’d tried to stop the relationship. He’d been the one to press it. He had insisted they follow their feelings.
He glanced down at the note. But if he didn’t do as instructed, something bad would happen to Emmett. Atlas couldn’t turn on Emmett, either. They’d been friends as long as he could remember, and even before that. There were pictures of them toddling around together. They’d been through thick and thin, always having each other’s backs.
What was he supposed to do? No matter what he did, someone was going to get hurt. Emmett could get the crap beat out of him. Savannah could lose her job or go to jail.
Neither option was acceptable. If only the note had threatened Atlas. He would gladly take that over being responsible for either Emmett or Savannah getting hurt.
He put the camera and paper down, then spun in a circle, imagining hidden cameras on him. “Hurt me! Not them! Me!”
23
Dr. Morgan James
* * *
Pain squeezed Morgan’s arm. He was so tired, he didn’t want to open his eyes. The clicking and beeping noises reminded him that he was in the hospital. He wanted to find the button to call the nurse for more medicine, but at the same time, he knew it was only a matter of time before one returned to wake him again. After a moment of debate, he decided he wanted sleep more than painkillers.
Lies Never Sleep Page 16
