Captive: a Paranormal Romance

by Marisol Logan

  He nodded. “They usually shoot me up with some drug that makes me so lethargic I can't move, and then they lock me down here.”

  I sighed and shook my head as it dropped to stare at my lap as I filled with sadness and anger on Casey's behalf. I fought back my own tears, feeling suddenly that I needed to be the strong one. He was larger, psychically more powerful, but they had broken him, stolen his confidence, weakened him with their abuse. I couldn't cry, no matter how much my heart ached for him in that moment. I had to be strong for him.

  “We have to get you out of here,” I said firmly. “I am going to get you out of here.”

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  “This is unacceptable. I mean, part of me wants to call the cops right now—”

  “No!” Casey protested. “No cops.”

  “Casey, this is criminal what they're doing to you, what they've done to you for almost twenty years!” I argued in a whisper.

  “They're in with all the cops!” he said, gesturing up toward the main story of the house in exasperation. “I have a file.”

  I sighed in frustration. “Okay,” I muttered, “then we'll think of something else.”

  “Alex...” he sighed, “it doesn't matter where I go. They will hunt me down and bring me back here. And probably never let me see you again.”

  “Then why did you tell me about this!?” I snapped. “I'm not going to let you give up, Casey! I'm not going to let them keep you captive in this house! I can't leave you in here!” I squeezed and shook his hands frantically as I spoke, as if that would instill some sense of urgency into him.

  “Well, I'm realizing what's at stake now, and I can't lose that! I can't lose Carly. I can't lose you!” he rebutted. “Even if it's just Saturday nights, I can't...”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “That's not enough. That's not enough for our daughter. And I'm not going to be able to live with myself—I'm not going to be able to look our daughter in the eye—knowing I left you in this situation!”

  “This isn't about you or your guilt, Alex,” he groaned.

  “No, it's about doing the right thing,” I replied. “For you. For us. For our child.”

  He sighed and shook his head.

  “If the roles were reversed, you would never leave me in a situation like this,” I murmured softly.

  He dropped his head in defeat. “You're right,” he said, staring at his lap. After a few moments of silence between us, he looked up suddenly and his arms reached out for my waist. My chest went tight and bubbles of heat formed deep in my core as he pulled me into his lap then slid his hands down to my thighs and wrapped my legs around his waist. Then his hands were on either side of my face, pulling it toward his until our foreheads touched.

  “Cameras,” I whispered. “Which makes a lot more sense now,” I added with a sigh.

  “This is a distraction,” Casey said.

  “It's working,” I purred as I ran my fingers through his soft hair.

  “No, for them. If they're watching,” he explained, then he kissed me for a few slow, lingering moments that made my breath quicken. “We will need to find a time where we can get at least a twenty minute head start on them, and remove the chip.”

  “Remove the chip—how?” I asked.

  He kissed me again, and even though I figured this was part of the show for Ruby and Rex so they wouldn't realize we were planning his escape, I reveled in every touch of his lips against mine, arching into him instinctively and moaning softly my approval. He slid his hands down to the supple muscles of my back and pulled my body in closer to his as he broke our lips apart again.

  “Your office,” he whispered after a brief moment of thought. “Dental tools should work. You can do it. It will be just like extracting wisdom teeth.”

  “Where is it?” I questioned, running my hands along the nape of his neck, which made him shiver and clutch into my back.

  “Lower,” he whispered, and I moved my hands lower down his neck until they were level with his shoulders. “Lower.” I slid my hands down further until I was running them over the taut, ample muscles that surrounded his shoulder blades. “There,” he murmured in my ear, and I shivered, partly from his warm breath on my neck, and partly from thinking of how much the back of the shoulder might bleed if I cut into it...

  “Then what?” I prompted, dropping my lips to the lobe of his ear, and he groaned in his throat and snaked his fingers through my hair, his chest heaving with deep, lustful breaths as he did. He gently pulled my head back by my hair, lengthening my neck and giving him more area to explore with his smooth, stony lips. The heat in my middle was a raging fire sending burning sparks throughout my entire body with every touch of his lips to a new patch of my delicate skin.

  “Carly,” he murmured into my neck, sending vibrations across its thin skin.

  “Then Carly?” I asked, breathlessly, arching into him as he brushed his lips across my collarbone.

  “She's coming,” he stated, finally, and regrettably, pulling his lips away from my body.

  Seconds later I heard her descending the stairs, sounding like a stampede of several animals twice her size, instead of the one small child she was. Before she entered the room, I reluctantly climbed out of Casey's lap and sat next to him.

  She rushed to the bed as soon as she saw us.

  “You're awake!” she exclaimed excitedly as she jumped on the bed and crawled in between us.

  “We're awake!” Casey echoed her, matching her excitement. “How was breakfast?”

  Carly made a sour face. “Grandma Ruby put salsa on my eggs, and it's too spicy,” she said, sticking out her tongue as if to reenact spitting out food. She didn't have the most normal eating habits for her age, a day under four, but she definitely did not like spicy food, which I assumed was probably typical. I had tried just as much as anyone else, since some of my favorite foods definitely had a kick to them, but she always complained.

  “Well, did you get something else besides eggs?” I asked, smoothing her untamed, bedhead curls away from her face.

  She nodded. “Banana pancakes with that butter that's not peanut butter but is pretty tasty.”

  “Almond butter?” Casey asked.

  “Yep,” Carly nodded.

  “Oh, you guys are fancy,” I laughed.

  “Don't look at me,” Casey said holding his hands up, “I like peanut butter better.”

  “Me, too,” Carly said.

  “Me, three,” I said, and we all laughed.

  Casey wrapped his long, lean arms around both of us and pulled us into a hug, and Carly giggled happily.

  We spent most of the day in Casey's basement apartment, cuddling, and watching TV, and playing games, just the three of us, going upstairs only for leftover Hawaiian barbecue and birthday cake for lunch. Leaving that evening, after such an amazing twenty-four hours as a happy, little family, and after learning everything I had learned about Casey's life, was one of the hardest things I had ever done.

  The next morning at work, as I sterilized tools in the back room in an emotionally drained and distracted daze, my phone buzzed in my front pocket. I pulled it out, expecting a text, but saw a notification from an app I didn't even know I had on my phone, called 'Howler'. I certainly didn't remember downloading it...but I slid the notification bar, which opened the app, which welcomed me by name as if I had already set up an account.

  It was some sort of messaging program, and it showed I had one message. From Casey. I entered the chat window and saw his message.

  Good morning, beautiful.

  Goo morning, I replied. Did you put this on my phone yesterday?

  Yes, it's an encrypted messaging application. So we can make plans without anyone hacking us...unless they're really good. But I'm better :)

  Wait, are you saying you wrote this app? I asked.

  Yes, he replied. Actually my big raise recently was more like my cut from the sale of this app to a larger company.

  Geez. That's awesome.


  So...we are set for a long time. I lied to my parents that I got a raise and I put the money in a very secure bank. Under your name.

  What? Why? I asked.

  So nobody else can get it out. If Ruby and Rex find out about that money, they'll take it. They have access to all my accounts, all my information. I was just lucky that the company asked me how I wanted to receive the payout, so it didn't go through my existing account that they know about, he explained.

  So, what are we going to do? I asked, my palms sweaty and heart thumping with the rush of adrenaline as I typed away with my thumbs.

  Carly will have to stay with someone while we do all this.

  Okay. Melinda? I suggested.

  No, he replied. Ruby and Rex know her. It's too obvious.

  Jesus, you think they'd actually come after Carly? I asked, my hands slightly trembling with fear. I took a deep breath to try and steady them and calm myself.

  I'd rather be safe than sorry. What about your dad?

  I snorted through my nose as I responded: MY dad?! My dad who decided to start a career as a country musician three months after my mom died? My dad who couldn't be bothered to stay for two stinkin' hours after my graduation for my grad party, where I found out I was pregnant, by the way, because moving to Nashville was more important to him than me? My dad who was literally counting down the days until he could abandon his only daughter with the least amount of guilt? That guy?

  A moment passed before Casey sent his response: Yes.

  You've got to be kidding me.

  They won't expect it. They don't know him that well, and what they do know of him is that he's obviously not a good caretaker and you two aren't in communication.

  If he's not a good caretaker, why the hell are we sending our child to him, Casey? I asked, my thumbs pecking feverishly at my screen. He probably sleeps until 2 pm everyday and then gets drunk and plays in nasty Nashville dives from 5 pm until last call. How would he even watch her?

  We'll hire a live-in nanny, he replied. Jesus, Alex, I can probably afford to hire someone who will teach her Mandarin and biochemistry, and cook her an organic, gluten-free diet, for crying out loud. Let's just get her the hell out of here until we're in the clear, okay?

  Okay, I replied, and a smirk spread across my lips as I typed and sent: But I think you mean I can afford this Mary Poppins nanny.

  Haha. You're right, Miss Moneybags. How does it feel to be rich?

  I chuckled to myself before responding. I don't know. I'm still in scrubs, handling a bunch of stuff that has been in people's mouths, so about the same as any other day.

  Well, not only do you not need to work there anymore, you should probably quit...we won't be able to come back to Highdale Park for awhile after we do this.

  I swallowed hard. I knew it was a possibility, I just hadn't fully acknowledged it yet, or thought about leaving the only place I had lived for my entire life. I took a deep breath again.

  What do I tell Aunt Melinda?

  You can tell her the whole damn story if you want, Casey answered. Not where you're sending Carly, obviously, but everything about me, if you think it will help her understand your decision.

  Okay, I replied.

  Are you okay? Are you sure you want to do this? he messaged.

  Yes. Of course. I mean, it's a lot. But we have to.

  We have each other. We can do anything.

  I smiled and ran my finger along the side of the phone, wishing I could be with him in that moment.

  Tell me how it went with Melinda later tonight, okay? he asked.

  Alright. Will do. Talk to you later.

  I'm looking forward to it, beautiful.

  Amy burst into the room and made me jump, and I quickly closed the app and slid my phone back into my pocket.

  “Your aunt would be pissed if she saw you on your phone back here,” she laughed.

  “Well,” I sighed, not really wanting to tell my best friend that I was leaving our shared workplace, but knowing I would have to at some point, “I'm quitting, so she can be pissed if she wants.”

  “What?!” Amy gasped. “What—why?! What are you going to do?”

  “I got...an inheritance,” I lied. “Someone on my mom's side I didn't even know, and since she's gone, it came to me. So, I'm going to...travel, with Carly, and maybe do some writing about it.”

  “Holy shit,” Amy sighed. “Sounds like a dream come true. I'm really excited for you. I mean, I'm jealous as hell, but I'm glad for you.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “So, who were you talking to?” she asked slyly, her heavily coral-glossed lips curling up mischievously. “A guy? Did you meet someone? You've been kinda distracted the past couple weeks...”

  “Oh, just Casey,” I said as casually as possible.

  “Oh my god, that's right,” Amy gasped. “How is he taking this? I mean, you taking Carly to travel and everything?”

  “He's...fine with it,” I answered.

  “Good,” Amy said. “I'm glad. So, when are you telling your aunt about all this?”

  “Today,” I answered. “At lunch.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Aunt Melinda was shocked, to say the least, but definitely understood my decision to help Casey get out of town, thus leaving my job at her office. She begged me to be careful, and made sure we had a plan for Carly, which I told her we did, but didn't give her the details about my dad. First of all, Ruby and Rex could come asking her questions, and secondly, she knew my dad well enough to have the same reaction that I did at first.

  I told Casey over the Howler app how my conversation with Melinda went later that afternoon, after I had picked up Carly from preschool and we were at home, eating her 'real birthday' cupcakes and eating her special birthday request of Hawaiian pizza. He informed me that he had already come up with a short list of nannies and would pick one out by the next morning. All I had to do was arrange things with my dad, which he suggested I do from a payphone or a burner phone – a phone that couldn't be traced back to me or tracked.

  Every time we talked about the plan, a pit of nervous lava opened up in my stomach. Having to sneak around like spies behind Ruby and Rex, and all the mentions that they'd likely be hunting us down if we were successful, made me realize how dangerous they were—a thought I never would have imagined I'd have. I'd known them for five years, and sure, they weren't the nicest people over fifty I'd met. But, they were over fifty! I thought to myself. I mean, I new some really fit almost-sixty-year-olds, but all of them rode bikes and went hiking or spent their fair share of time at the gym—which required leaving the house, which the Carlsons rarely did.

  If anyone had told me when I first met them that they were dangerous, as they lectured me about my sugary frappes from the coffee shop and how I should choose a career in sciences and not 'the arts', otherwise known as English, I would have laughed out loud at the suggestion. Part of me still didn't believe it, and my brain couldn't reconcile the uptight, know-it-all grandparents I knew with the portrait of them that Casey painted—tactical, insidious captors that would keep him prisoner and hunt him down if he ever escaped. But he believed it, obviously. And that was all I needed to convince me. He obviously knew them, and his situation, much better than I did.

  The next morning, I dropped Carly off at preschool, then went to find a payphone, which was a bit surreal and strange, as I had never used one before, and in the age of cellphones, they had become rather sparse. The first place I saw displaying a 'payphone inside' sign was the local Waffle House, which tempted me to have large greasy breakfast with its sausage and maple and hashbrown perfume filling my nose as soon as I walked in. I didn't want to be rude and use the phone without ordering anything, so I asked for a slice of pecan pie and a cup of black coffee, which I picked at and sipped for a few minutes before heading back to the phones, mounted on the wall near the restrooms.

  I dropped my quarter in the slot and dialed my dad's numbers. Or, at least I dialed what I
assumed was still my dad's number. If he had changed numbers, there wouldn't be anyway I would know, as we hadn't talked since Carly's first birthday.

  “Hello?”

  It was him.

  “Dad? It's Alex.”

  “Al! What's up? How are ya?” he exclaimed enthusiastically, which resulted in having to cough and clear his throat.

  “I'm good,” I said. “How are you?”

  “Oh, you know...old and tired,” he laughed.

  “You're not that old,” I argued.

  “Well, probably too old to be hitting the stage every day of the year,” he said, and coughed again. “I don't know how these other guys do it. The famous ones, y'know? George, and Garth—they're older than me.”

  “They do big tours and then they take breaks,” I stated. “When was the last time you took a break?”

  “I wouldn't be Nashville's Own Jake Jensen, Country's Man of Steel, if I didn't perform every night for four years, now would I?”

  “Jesus, Dad,” I sighed. “No wonder you're exhausted.”

  “When are you going to come out and visit me?” he asked. “Hopefully before my vocal chords give out, or my strummin' fingers fall off.”

  “Maybe soon,” I said. “Really soon, I will come to Nashville, but in the meantime...there's someone else that wants to come see you.”

  “Really? Who's that?” he asked.

  “Carly,” I said. “You know...your granddaughter that you've never met and just turned four.”

  There was silence for a few moments before he chuckled. “I can't take care of a four-year-old, Alligator,” he laughed, using his nickname for me that I hadn't heard in years.

  “Look, this would actually be a big favor for me,” I muttered, just loud enough for him to hear, but hopefully nobody sitting at the Waffle House counter. “I have to do some...traveling. But we—I have found a nanny in Nashville that can take care of her. She'll live in the house with you, cook, clean, take her to preschool, do some tutoring. You won't have to worry about anything. Just...get to know her.”