I went into doctor mode and asked for any other information they could spare, talked to his neurologist and several other doctors so I could form my own opinion, and through a translator, I patiently explained everything I was able to deduce to his parents, fielding their questions the way a very busied doctor might not have the time to do.
At one point, Mr. Alonzo stood and shook my hand with both of his, then left the room.
He’d been gone for a good ten minutes when Mrs. Alonzo turned to me and said, “His job… he has to go, or they fire him. Me too. I will work tonight—I have to.”
I wanted to be surprised and outraged they had to work while their son needed them, but through a translator, I’d learned that Enrique’s parents both worked long hours in low-paying jobs. They were undocumented immigrants from El Salvador, always fearful of deportation, especially for their son who was a small child when he’d been brought here, The United States being the only country he’d ever known.
“He is my baby,” Mrs. Alonzo said tearfully in her broken English. “I lose too many others. Too many die.”
I looked to the translator, and over the next hour, Mrs. Alonzo was able to tell me how they had three other sons and a daughter, all of them much older than Enrique. Two of those sons had been sucked into gangs while the third’s refusal to join led to him being ambushed and killed. Through tears, Mrs. Alonzo said her daughter was beaten and raped by a member of the gang rival to her sons’. One son’s quest to avenge his sister led to his death while the other was arrested and sent to prison. And her daughter, full of shame, had actually wed her rapist because she believed nobody else would ever want her.
It was the stuff of nightmares, but I was a keen observer of world news and knew of the violence that tore through El Salvador, knew that this family’s only hope for their youngest son was to leave.
“Jack!” Katherine comes bursting into the room as I’m still coming to grips with the Alonzos’ life story.
“Katherine… hi.” I stand up and greet her. “I didn’t realize you’d been called as well.”
“Well, of course I was,” she says, giving me a hug and saying hello to Mrs. Alonzo and the translator. “I was the first one they called, but I was in Denver for a conference. I’d asked Sharla or Lincoln or even Louisa to come in my place.” She smiles at Mrs. Alonzo before turning back to me. “They have absolutely no family here, but I didn’t expect you to come all the way back up from Oregon.”
“I’m not sure this is Sharla’s thing,” I tell Katherine quietly. “And it wasn’t a problem.”
Katherine settles into a chair. “No, I suppose you’re right. I can’t imagine she’s got much bedside manner. And I know I’d much rather have you here if my loved one was lying in that bed.”
“You and I have plenty of experience,” I muse, and Katherine simply nods.
She talks to Enrique’s mother for a while, her Spanish good enough to carry on a full conversation. And then Mrs. Alonzo has to leave for her job, promising that her husband will return as soon as he’s done working. She asks us to stay in the meantime.
“They shouldn’t have to work like that when their son is in the hospital,” I tell Katherine, looking over at Enrique and knowing how painful it would be to leave his side if he were my son. “Couldn’t I just give them some money or something so they wouldn’t have to go to their jobs for a while?”
Katherine sighs. “Well, I’ve been looking into funds we can draw from the foundation and seeing if I can reason with their employers—we’ll figure something out, but it might take a day or two.”
“I can write a check right now so we don’t have to touch the foundation. I’m more than willing.”
She touches my arms and smiles. “You are just too good a man. My little sister was so lucky to have you. And so is Natalie.”
“Seriously, Katherine, I can help.”
“I know,” she says, though she doesn’t seem to want me to tap into my personal funds quite yet. “Let me figure out a few things first, though. Have you had a moment to yourself since you’ve gotten here?”
I drag a hand through my hair, deciding to respect whatever way she wants to work the finances out. “No. And I really should call Natalie and give her an update. You mind if I step out for a moment?”
“Please do. Go get yourself a cup of coffee while you’re at it. I’m sure it’s been a long day.”
I don’t disagree and excuse myself, dialing Natalie on my way to find coffee. There’s no answer, so I stuff my phone back into my pocket. Finding a coffee shop on the second floor, I grab a coffee for Katherine and one for myself, then text Natalie and take a seat.
She usually texts back right away, but after a couple of minutes, still no answer.
It shouldn’t be anything to worry about, a missed call and a text, and yet I do. I can’t help myself. Call it overbearing or even controlling, but all I want is to be sure she’s okay.
I take some sips of my coffee, check my emails, then look out at the heavy, big city traffic below the window. Five minutes pass, and still nothing. I call again and head back to the room so Katherine’s coffee won’t get cold. I finish leaving my message, ask her to call me to be sure she’s okay, then enter the room and hand Katherine her cup.
“Well, that was sweet of you,” she says, taking a sip. “I didn’t expect you to get me one.”
“It’s nothing.”
She lowers the cup, narrowing her eyes on me as she does. “Something’s on your mind.”
I want to brush it off, tell her not to worry, but something in my gut tells me otherwise. “I can’t get a hold of Natalie.”
“No? You tried just now? She might have just set her phone down or something.”
“Probably.” And of course that makes sense, like I’m making something out of nothing, and yet I’ve got this feeling.
“Well, is there a neighbor that can check on her?”
I’d resisted the idea of calling Melissa, not wanting to be that guy who starts tracking down the woman he loves when he doesn’t hear from her for five minutes. But I’m going to have to be that guy because I’m that worried.
“Yeah, I can call someone. I’ll just step out for another minute.”
“Take as long as you need,” she says.
I try Natalie once more, hoping she’ll answer, but when she doesn’t, I call Melissa on the cell number I’ve got for her.
“Jack?” she asks, answering on the first ring. “Have you heard from Natalie?”
“No… she’s not with you?” My mouth goes dry and my stomach sinks. Something isn’t right.
“I was just about to call you. I’ve been to the cabin because she apparently went to find Blue—”
“Wait… what? Why would she do that?”
She pauses. “Now, Jack, don’t get alarmed, but there’s a wildfire down here, still far enough east that nobody thinks it’s going to be any real danger, but—”
“A fire?” I can feel the eyes of two passing nurses on me when I ask the question a little too loudly.
“Like I said, it’s east of here, but Camille apparently called Natalie and trumped up the danger, said she better go and save Blue. I wouldn’t have let her go if I’d known, Jack. If I had any idea my daughter had been in contact with Natalie’s ex, I’d have never let her out of my sight!”
I lean against the wall and bring my hand to my head, as if to keep all of the thoughts I’m having from jumping out at once. “Michael’s there… in Meadow Brook?”
“No sign of him now, but yes. That’s what I managed to get out of Camille when I talked to her.”
“And you can’t find Natalie anywhere?”
“No. I’ve run all over town. Do you think she might have gone with him? Maybe she wanted to settle some things?”
She’s probably trying to allay my fears that Michael might have taken Natalie by force, but the thought of her going with him willingly still twists at my gut. If Natalie has had some change of heart conc
erning her and I, it would pretty much end me, but the only thing I need to know right now is that she’s safe.
“I’m coming down,” I say. “I’ll probably just catch a flight if it will be faster.”
“I think that’s a good idea.” The fact that she doesn’t argue just confirms she thinks this is serious too.
As soon as I end the call, I walk back into Enrique’s room. “I have to go,” I tell Katherine. “I’m sorry, but Natalie appears to be missing, and I need to be there.”
“Missing? Are you sure—”
“I’m sure.”
“Oh, dear. Well, of course then. I’ll be fine here, and you’ll keep me posted on anything you find out?”
“I will,” I say, then walk to Enrique’s bed. I take his hand and wish him well. “You’ll come out of this and go to college. You’ll make a life your parents will be proud of.” Then I smile one last time at Katherine and leave, my entire focus on Natalie.
Chapter Thirty
NATALIE
I open my eyes.
My head feels heavy, like I’ve taken too much sleeping medication.
I groan and raise one of my hands, but my fingers only graze my chin before they fall back down to the bed I’m on.
There’s an old light fixture on the dark ceiling, dark because it’s wood. It’s everywhere, wood paneling on the walls, making the room shadowy even though daylight is still sneaking through what looks like one single window.
My stomach quivers, and there’s a prickling at my scalp. My head is getting less foggy, but I’m getting more scared. I was taken, that damp cloth drugged so that I blacked out.
Michael.
I remember talking to him, remember thinking he and I had come to an understanding.
But I was wrong, so very, very wrong.
With a sudden sense that I’ve got to escape wherever the hell he’s managed to bring me, I jerk up, my head throbbing as I do. My back slides up against a headboard as the bed creaks, and the sheet that had covered me slides away.
“What the—”
It takes a moment or two to focus, but when I do, there’s no doubt the only stitches of fabric left on my body are my bra and panties. Michael has undressed me. My pulse races, but when I turn my eyes slightly to the side and see the sleeping form next to me, I hyperventilate, unable to catch my breath. I move my legs, throwing them over the side of the mattress and onto the cold floor, then yank the rest of my body up with only one thought in my mind—escape.
But there’s a tug at my wrist that’s unexpected, confusing even, and when I look back, a rope is tied around my right wrist, the other end securely tied to the headboard.
My chest and lungs hurt as I attempt to catch my breath. I’m trying to make sense of how I hadn’t even noticed the rope, how I hadn’t even felt the restraint.
None of that matters, though. I have to get out of it before he wakes up, and I focus all of my energy on trying to free my hand, trying to calm myself just enough to work the knots.
The bed shifts, and it’s not from me.
I don’t dare look back.
I have no idea what version of Michael I’m going to find behind me, and it terrifies me.
There isn’t much time.
Maybe only seconds.
I have to focus.
But the knots are tight. Loosening them seems impossible.
He’s making me pay, just like I knew he would.
I continue working on the knots even though I know it’s hopeless, and I’m not at all shocked when two hands grab me around my waist and pull me back across the bed.
His skin is bare.
His breath is hot.
And he must have completely lost his mind.
“Why are you doing this to me, Michael?” I get out in a whimper. I want to be strong, but I feel so very weak.
“Michael?” He laughs, deep and hearty, like I’ve just told him the most amusing joke. “You’ve got the wrong guy, baby.”
Terror and confusion shoot through me.
I’m paralyzed all over again.
If it’s not Michael, then who?
“Don’t you recognize me?” He takes hold of my hair, moves it away from my shoulder and places his revolting lips on my skin.
I shake my head, too many thoughts buzzing through my mind to place him with just his voice. I want to be sick. I just want to stay alive.
“Oh, come on. You’re hurting my feelings!” He tugs harder at my waist, pulling my body lopsidedly closer to him, so close that I can feel the unmistakably disgusting lump rising from between his legs. “Take a guess.”
And then it hits me, all at once.
I know exactly who he is.
“Will.”
He laughs. “You do remember!” He turns my body around, the rope tugging at my wrist and bending it to an unnatural angle. I cry out in pain. “Sorry, but I can’t let you go quite yet.”
He’s completely naked, and I abhor the sight of him.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I whimper. He’d been angry that night in Ashland, but to kidnap me? I swallow hard at the thought he’d raped me while I’d been unconscious, that there was no other reason he’d be naked and lying next to me.
“Why does anyone do anything?” He slides a finger down the line of my arm, cups my breast and then licks the side of my face before jumping out of bed, leaving me to cower against the headboard, alone on the mattress. “I’m just sick to fuck of girls like you, thinking your shit doesn’t stink, thinking you’re too good for working stiffs like me. I thought you were different at first, thought you and I could have some fun together, but you showed your true colors, Natalie. Couldn’t get enough of that doctor’s cock, huh? Mine not good enough for you?”
He strokes the thing between his legs as he nears me.
I gag.
I want to throw up.
“Don’t worry,” he says, petting the top of my head. “I can control myself. I haven’t violated you.” He says that word with amusement, as if it’s the very definition of political correctness.
“So you didn’t?” I try to feel below my waist, to know for sure he didn’t rape me.
He laughs again. “I’m not a fucking rapist, Natalie. You did give me some fucking serious wood though. You didn’t hear me beating off in the bathroom earlier?”
I push past the vile visual, desperate to understand what he’s doing with me and if he plans on letting me go. “Then why am I here? Do you want money? Is that it? You want my parents or Jack to pay?”
As soon as the question is out, his face contorts into anger, and he lifts his lips just enough to bare his teeth. When he brings his hand back, I can’t think of what he’s doing, until it slams across my face, pushing me off balance and sending me onto my side.
“You think this is about money?” He’s seething, spit coming out of his mouth and hitting my bare skin. “You think I want to be like those rich pricks? Fuck no! This is about you, Natalie. I’m going to give you a few days to get with the program and give in, but after that?” He shakes his head, a whistling sound escaping between his teeth. “Then you’ll have a choice. You give me what I want, and I let you live. You stick your nose up at me, and you die.”
“You wouldn’t…” Wouldn’t what? Kill me. He said it like he’s done it before, like he wouldn’t hesitate to end my life. And then a cold fear drives through me when I remember something, that woman Melissa mentioned to me when I first met her. She said a girl like me should have a phone, said a woman had gone missing in Medford, raped and murdered, her body dumped at the edge of town.
Could Will be the one responsible?
“You said—you said you wouldn’t rape me,” I get out, wanting him to disprove what I’m thinking.
More laughter, cold and calculating. “Like I said, I’ll give you some time to get with the program. You’ll enjoy it, Natalie. I want to see it in your eyes, see you screaming out my name. I want to feel you come when I’m fucking you. And if I think
you’re pretending, then I don’t have anything against putting a bullet in your head.” He puts his hand on my cheek, then grips my chin and turns it hard toward him. “I don’t want to do that, though. You’re a hell of a lot prettier than the last one.”
I let out a breath, fear coming with it.
No. No. No.
“You’re my diamond in the rough. We can have a real good time up here, a fucking life of good times, but that’s going to be up to you.” He digs his fingers deeper into my skin, and I can smell the grease and dirt from under his fingernails. With eyes so evil I can barely look at them, he lets go, turns around and strides out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
This can’t be real.
But it is.
“Jack, I need you.” Tears cloud my eyes as soon as I’ve said it. The fear of never seeing him again, never being able to have this baby, is as strong as the terror of losing my own life.
Seconds and then minutes pass.
Will doesn’t come back.
This isn’t at all how I’d imagined my story ending. If anything, I thought my life was just beginning. But I don’t guess the girl who came before me thought that either. She’d surely had dreams of a future, family and friends—maybe even a boyfriend or a girlfriend—that loved her. I doubt she’d once considered rape and murder being the way her life would end until Will changed all that.
But I still don’t want that to happen to me. I want to see Jack again, to smell him and touch him and be held by him. I want to have our baby and to live our life together until we’re old and wrinkled.
As long as I’m still breathing, I’m going to fight.
I’ve got no other choice.
Chapter Thirty-One
JACK
“You better tell me where the fuck she’s at, or I swear to god, I’m not afraid to beat the truth out of you!” One of my hands is around Michael’s neck, the other in a fist, my arm cocked back and ready to break his face in two if that’s what it takes to get the truth out of him.
The Light Before Us Page 31
