by Lydia Kelly
“Because it put me in control.”
“Control to do what?”
“Control to call the shots. Control to keep Raleigh safe.”
“Safe? Surely she wasn’t kept safe if you raped her.”
My father squeezed my hand and I glanced up at him. He stared down at me with a frightened and helpless expression. I smiled and squeezed back. I was still here, still in one piece.
“Don’t you think she would have been safer if you had accepted the ransom money and turned her over to her father?”
Kaden blinked. “I suppose.”
“Let me just clarify, Mr. Prideaux. You led Ray and Marshal Birch to believe that you would ransom Ms. Winters, something which you admit would have been in her better interests, yet you hid information from them to buy you more time with her.”
It was clever what the lawyer was doing. Clever, but inevitably pointless because Marshal had already testified against his brother. Krieger wanted to show the jury that Kaden had been keeping me, not for ransom money as he promised Ray and Marshal, but for his own selfish purposes. Ray had therefore been misled, tricked into doing things he wouldn’t have done under normal circumstances. It was a tough theory to prove but probably the only way the jury would give Ray any sympathy.
“Yes,” Kaden answered, looking guilty for the first time.
“So you admit to withholding information from Mr. Birch and his brother with the intent of prolonging Ms. Winters stay?”
“Yes, but Ray would have killed her if he found out who her father was.”
“How do you know that?” Mr. Krieger demanded. “Raymond Birch drove hundreds of miles to mail a ransom note which he believed would be answered. His actions tell us that he did indeed want to ransom her.”
“He also held a gun to her head and a knife to her throat,” Kaden said, his face reddening with anger, his jaw clenching. “He told me that he was going to kill her because she had ruined his life. He killed that girl because he knew I wouldn’t let him kill Raleigh.”
But the judge held up a warning hand, letting Kaden know that he was out of line.
“I would ask the court for Mr. Prideaux’s statements to be struck from the record. They are merely speculations.” Mr. Krieger turned toward the judge.
“They weren’t speculations!” Kaden screamed, standing up and then immediately sitting down and hanging his head.
“So stricken,” the judge ruled.
“I have no further questions.”
Evans was out of his seat before Mr. Krieger had finished speaking, ready for his rebuttal.
“Mr. Prideaux, when you first found Ms. Winters alive in the trunk of your car, is it true that you convinced Raymond Birch to ransom her as an alternative to death?”
“Yes.”
“And, please tell the court, between the three of you, who vocalized his desire to kill Ms. Winters?”
“It was Ray.”
“Prosecution rests.”
Kaden’s head snapped to the judge and she excused him. Immediately he was out of his seat and quickly handcuffed by the guards. I felt my throat start to close, a sob resting just above my chest. I didn’t want him to leave. If I could just look at him for another hour, another five minutes, things would get better. My legs twitched and I fought the urge to run. I clamped my hands into tight fists and pressed my mouth into a firm line so no words could escape.
I watched in horror as the guards escorted Kaden from the courtroom, waiting for him to turn around and acknowledge me one last time. He was nearly to the door before it happened. He glanced over his shoulder, his face calm, his walk steady. His green eyes caught mine only for the briefest of seconds and I saw him smile. I could tell the smile was meant for no one but me and I buried my face into my father’s chest and broke into tears.
Chapter 27
I walked back to the hotel room alone that afternoon. The winter wind burned my face and hands but I barely noticed. I was still in love with Kaden and almost entirely sure that he still loved me back. But was someone like Kaden capable of love in the best sense of the word? Love was supposed to be personalized, it was supposed to mean something different to each person. But I didn’t know what it meant to Kaden. I didn’t understand his definition of love and it certainly didn’t seem compatible with the commonly accepted description of the word. But what I didn’t understand no longer scared me. I should have been ashamed, I should have been sick with disgust that I relished the love of a man who had kidnapped and raped me. But I was a sick, masochistic girl who went to bed every night praying I would wake up in his arms.
The hotel where my father, Samantha, and I had stayed was old and rather quaint, probably one of the only hotels in the area that wasn’t near the highway and that didn’t advertise specials for free HBO. The high ceiling in the lobby was painted in a maritime theme and accented with gold leaf.
I nodded at the concierge, made my way to the spiral staircase and slowly climbed the stairs. The walls of the hotel were lined with old pictures and drawings of ships and other sea vessels, all with two dates: their maiden voyage and either their disappearance or the day they sank. The name of the captain was printed below. I wondered if anyone else was staying in this hotel and, if they were, did they find these pictures as depressing as I did? I would have much rather seen ships that were still strong and alive out on the ocean. Why immortalize something so upsetting? Surely, drowning would be a painful death, especially for the captain, who lost his ship and his life at the same time.
But then again, there was something heroic and almost romantic about dying at sea. You fight to save the ship you love and have worked with for so many years, only to have a force stronger than either man or vessel finally consume you and your beloved. It wouldn’t be that bad, I supposed.
***
I didn’t have to put up with the pictures for much longer. The trial ended two days later. After Kaden’s testimony, Sheriff Michaels was called to the stand along with the doctor who had seen me the day I was found. The sheriff discussed Ray’s prior offenses, his reputation within the community. The negative review wasn’t surprising.
The doctor testified that I had broken ribs that had healed out of place, a result of an injury that most likely occurred five to eight weeks before my visit.
Ray surprised everyone, including his lawyer I believe, by refusing to testify in his own defense. Maybe he knew it was a lost cause, maybe he had just given up, but I could tell that after Kaden’s day on the stand something inside of Ray had broken. He no longer held his head with confidence, feigned or otherwise. He no longer searched for my gaze in the audience, hoping to intimidate me with his smile. He no longer showed his frustration or excitement. He just sat in his chair, gazing out the window or scanning the faces of the jury.
The only thing left for Krieger to do was call a character witness, an old and assertive criminal psychologist who said he believed Ray suffered from some form of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, a result of his mother’s ddeath. Evans had a handful of cards to play but chose the one that would hurt the most. He asked the psychologist if everyone suffering from Post Traumatic Stress has a criminal record, if they all kidnap and kill people. The psychologist’s negative answer sealed Ray’s fate.
I knew what the verdict would be before it was read. The members of the jury tried their best to keep a straight face, but many of them glared at Ray, others glanced at me with a hopeful glint in their eyes. I believe they thought this verdict would change my life, bring some closure to my painful journey. It did, in some ways. But I had known all along what Ray had done. He was guilty of murder, kidnapping, and assault. I didn’t needed a judge and jury to decide that for me.
We flew home the night the trial ended. My father needed to get back to work and I wanted nothing more than to search through my old backpack. I still had it. I hadn’t removed a thing. All of the contents of the bag were in the exact same place they were the day I was found. I don’t know what inspired me
not to throw it away. I don’t know why I hadn’t searched through it in a desperate attempt to remember him. But it was like a time capsule, the things inside preserved those weeks spent with Kaden. Disturbing them would be criminal. But now it had to be done.
I wanted to believe that Kaden had given me a sign that day in the courtroom. Every pocket of my bag. Anything that could help us. Those were his words. I knew his eyes had been telling me to pay attention and begging me to do something.
The drive from the airport was torture. I was so close, so convinced that I was going to find something that would change my life. I had thought about hundreds of things I could find in that bag.
Maybe a letter from Kaden, a note that would explain everything? Maybe it would be his favorite shirt, the one he had agreed to let me borrow as long as it smelled like me when I returned it? It could be something to remember him by. Would I take that as a sign that he wanted me to let go, a signal for me to move on?
Samantha dropped me off at my house and told me to text her if I needed anything. I gave her a hug and promised to see her the next day. I walked slowly up my front steps, knowing she would watch me until I had disappeared behind the closed door. The second I was safe inside, I sprinted to my bedroom and dropped to my knees at the foot of my bed. I reached beneath the frame and pulled the bag into my lap. Clothes flew everywhere, followed by old makeup and a few protein bars. Once the contents of the main compartment were out, I dug my hand deep into the inside pocket, the one where my passport and most of my cash had been.
I gasped as my fingers touched an unfamiliar object. I knew it was a key and I also knew it wasn’t mine. It hadn’t been there before. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know which door it would open. So I left it there for the moment and kept searching. Paper crumpled at the bottom of the pocket, the edges stiff.
I paused, my hand buried deep in the bag. Kaden had been telling me something. He knew I would go home and search for whatever it was he had left in my bag. But I was finally starting to live my life again. My friends no longer looked at me with sad expressions. The color had returned to my skin. My father and I were speaking, we were even affectionate at times. I had Jackson in my life, a man who was now my friend but who I knew could be so much more if we ever wanted to take that step. I knew I would always live with Kaden’s memory, but I no longer knew if I wanted to live in that memory. Pulling out this key and reading whatever was written on that paper would throw me right back into his world. I would start pining for him again, start remembering all the good things about him, not all the terrible things he had done.
I closed my eyes and tried to listen to my heart or my head, whichever one that would give me an answer. But like the world I lived in, my conscience was silent. I didn’t think I had the courage to just throw my bag beneath my bed and pretend like nothing had happened. I would have to burn the contents so there would be no way of knowing what Kaden wanted me to find. A single tear rolled down my face.
This bag had been my life until I had met Kaden. It had taken me from Delaware to the North Carolina shore. Burning it would be like burning a part of my life - the wrong part, for I never regretted the events leading up to Kaden. My choice to leave home had been made from my own free will. If I pulled this key from its hiding spot, would I be strong enough to make the right decision? Kaden still influenced almost everything I did. He was on my mind constantly yet I had learned to control him, push him to a corner where I could merely observe and feel his presence.
My fingers traveled back to the key, pressing it into my palm and then crinkling the paper as I pulled it from the pocket. Tears now fell freely from my eyes. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to feel him anymore, didn’t want to return to that life where he held so much control, but I knew I would give in. Just as I had so many times before, I would forgive him this one last torture and continue loving him as long he would let me. I clenched the key and paper in my fist, my tears temporarily blinding me as I sobbed on the floor of my room. I knew Kaden would want me to be strong. He wasn’t here to comfort me or force me to do anything, but the knowledge that he wanted me to find this was enough for me to open my eyes.
My fingers straightened the paper, which I set carefully on the floor. I took a deep breath before wiping away my tears and looking at the paper.
Raleigh ,
I’m writing this, knowing what I’m about to do will hurt you probably more than anything I’ve done before. I hate myself for hurting you, honestly I do. But I want you to understand why I’m doing this. I want you to be free of me, Raleigh. I want you to have your life back because it was unfair of me to take that from you. It was unfair of me to ask you to run away with me and it was unfair for me to turn myself in once I realized what you wanted.
Do you remember when you told me that the feelings between us were merely circumstantial, that you had no other choice? I told you not to be scared of us and asked you to give us a chance. I’m still hoping for that chance and, as you can see by now, I’ve changed my mind about atoning for my actions. It’s hard to turn yourself in for something you don’t regret doing. I know the difference between right and wrong and I know what I did to you was wrong, but I don’t regret falling in love with you. I don’t regret the nights we spent together and I won’t regret what I’m about to do.
I love you, Raleigh. I love you more than you can possibly realize and, again, I know that it is unfair of me to tell you this. You should be moving on with your life, healing, finding a nice man who treats you well and who you will love for all the right reasons. But after everything I’ve done to you, I still have hope that you can learn to love me, learn to love all of me and not just because you need me, but because you want me.
The key which you are now holding in your hand unlocks my apartment in Paris . My parents left it to me and I want you to have it now. I’ll be writing to you there from wherever it is they lock me away. I’ve called the landlord and told her your name, told her not to expect you but, in the event you do show up, to make sure you have everything you need. I robbed you once of the chance to escape your life and I don’t want to do it again. Go to Paris , if not for me than for yourself. I don’t know when I’ll be free or if I’ll ever see you again, but knowing that I was able to give you a chance to escape should get me through the days and nights where I don’t get to see you or feel you by my side.
I’m going to hold on to the hope that one day I can see you again. I don’t know when it will be and it’s impossible to guess the circumstances, but I can tell you right now that moment will be the best moment of my life. I love you and I always will. You mean everything to me.
Kaden
Below his name was an address. I stared at the street number for a long moment before reading the letter again. My head struggled to accept everything that I had just read and everything I now knew. Kaden was in prison, serving a four year sentence for rape and kidnapping. But he loved me, he wanted me to be free and live my life, wanted me to make the decisions that were right for me. Yet, my heart no longer felt whole. I felt as if I were missing some large piece of me, some piece that would change me to a we. I was a part of him now and he was undeniably a part of me. Much like I had been during those long weeks in captivity, Kaden now lacked the ability to make decisions for himself. It was now up to me to make the right choices for us.
How Kaden would fit into my life, I didn’t know. Would he return from prison one day so we could pick right back up where we left off, spending days together in his room, making love for hours and hours? Or would we try to start over? Would he do things the right way, asking me out on a date, letting our relationship grow in a natural progression? Or would we just live with the memory of each other, knowing that our other half was out there in the world and living their life? I believed that if he knew I was happy, Kaden would leave me alone, content in the knowledge that I was safe and doing well.
I didn’t know if Paris would answer my questions. I didn’t know what I w
ould find in Kaden’s apartment but I knew that I had to go. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, but I knew that before long I would find myself standing outside Kaden’s door. I stood up, found my purse, dug for my keys, and placed my newest key on the ring. It looked like it belonged there.
I folded the letter and placed it on my night stand. I knew I would read it hundreds of times over. I turned the off the lights and shut the door behind me. I walked downstairs with a new direction in life. It wasn’t a long term decision, but one that would get me through the next couple of months or weeks, however long I could hold out.
Chapter 28
I felt for the key in my pocket and pulled it out. I had held it so many times over the past few months. I had made up my mind weeks ago to come to Paris in order to open my eyes to a different side of the man I loved. This was his apartment, his former life, and now I stood outside the door, utterly afraid to go in. I knew he wouldn’t be inside but I didn’t know what else to expect. I could enter this apartment, go through his things, and realize I hadn’t known him at all. What terrified me even more was the possibility that I could realize I had known him all too well. Being surrounded by his things, his possessions, his memories, I knew it would be torture for me, a constant reminder of what I couldn’t have and what I shouldn’t want.
I looked behind me at the winding staircase and for a split second considered running down them and throwing the key into the Seine. The cool marble of the ancient building calmed me, the breeze blowing my hair lightly around my face. Kaden’s door was the only one on this floor. It was tall and black, made from thick wood no doubt painted to match the iron work on the stair’s banister. How many times had he walked these stairs, opened this door and made his way inside? I knew it was nothing more than a vacation home now, but perhaps he lived here as a child. I closed my eyes and imagined a small boy skipping through the courtyard of the building, his black hair shining in the sun, his emerald eyes sparkling with excitement. I never thought of Kaden as being innocent, but I supposed we all were at some point.
