Stockholm

by Leigh Lennon

  “It may just be the reason he wants me. Maybe two people who have experienced so much pain would do well for one another.”

  In the absence of Mikayla, Libby tried to come up with ways to just shut off her brain. Everything in the house reminded her of the little piece of her heart that was now missing, and she often wondered how it could still beat. She’d pass that dent in the wall, the one she always pestered Adam about, yet now, she was glad it was there. When Mikayla was just thirteen, she’d tossed Jenna’s curling iron at her one day when Jenna complained Mikayla always used her stuff without permission. Mikayla wasn’t being mean, just giving it to her, but had forgotten the curler was hot. The second Jenna grabbed it, she screamed, causing a high-pitch sound that only dogs could hear. It slammed against the wall, and the dent was still obvious. Small memories like this made life almost bearable even though it tore her heart apart at the same time.

  She’d walk past the pink and purple of Mikayla’s room daily, and whereas Adam felt the door needed to remain shut, she decided she needed that reminder of all the times she’d walk past her room and hear *NSYNC and Britney Spears blaring from her speakers.

  Her closet still boasted many clothes that she couldn’t take to the dorm with her along with the many shoes that were still in their respective boxes. She spoiled Mikayla, that much she was aware of, but she loved the idea that she was able to. What she wouldn’t give to take her out on a shopping spree right now.

  These were those little bits that made up her daughter. Sometimes, it hurt like hell, and other times, it was a comfort within the storm she was barely surviving.

  16

  Present

  A month after the first letter

  Libby

  Libby gave Fallon a cup of coffee and sat down politely without much other conversation. After twelve years of knowing one another, Fallon knew something was wrong and finally leaned over toward Libby and said, “What is going on? I know you well enough and you get all busy around me when something is on your mind.”

  “I have a hypothetical question for you. But remember, it’s merely hypothetical,” she said, emphasizing this point.

  “Oh, this must be good.” Fallon smirked. Fallon was an odd duck, and Libby often wondered why she became a cop. First, Fallon was one of the shortest women she’d ever met. If she stood five-foot, it would have surprised her. Fallon’s orange hair gave her away; certainly, she could never go undercover with that mop. But more than anything, she didn’t hold back her tongue.

  “What would happen to Mikayla if we found out this whole time she had left of her own accord?” In her question, her body jerked. Lying didn’t come naturally to Libby.

  “First off, you can’t kid a kidder, Libby. I don’t for one second believe this is a hypothetical question, but I can play along.” She took a deep breath and exhaled, choosing her next words carefully, which surprised Libby. It was certainly not the way Fallon operated. It was always shoot first, ask questions later, but she was being reserved today, so Libby could relax more.

  Fallon continued, “I guess if there was no foul play, she’d be free to live her life under her assumed identity. But I can say that the Canadian authorities would probably like to know how her identity was assumed because it couldn’t have been through legal channels. And without being a Canadian citizen, that would be an issue too, unless she’s married to a Canadian who was not aware of her identity. I’m still convinced she’s in Canada, so these assumptions are based on that theory.”

  She didn’t say a word and hoped Fallon would cover more of the subject matter so she didn’t have to ask specific questions.

  “But if you were convinced foul play was involved, at least, at first, there would be no way to corroborate if she wasn’t willing to tell us the truth,” Fallon said. Libby knew this was all she’d get out of her without revealing more information, but it stumped Libby.

  Confused, she clarified, “What does that mean?”

  “It means that if she was taken and then decided to go along with her kidnapper, she’d be loyal to that person and wouldn’t willingly implicate him or her.”

  Libby’s demeanor fell. “Oh, I see.”

  Fallon looked her square in the face. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Libby?”

  “No, not at all. As I said, these questions are hypothetical.”

  “I don’t believe you for one second. I’ll tell you this, though, Libby, all I’ve ever wanted to do is get your daughter back to you, and if I have to look the other way to get it done, I will.”

  Fallon smiled, and her words were as loyal as Fallon’s character. Knowing she had Fallon in her corner made Libby feel as if she could one day reunite with her daughter, regardless.

  All afternoon, she debated the merits of telling Adam about Mikayla’s contact with Taylor. It boiled down to one major point; if the roles were reversed, she’d never forgive Adam for keeping this from her. And so the second he walked in the door, she handed him the letter. He sat on the couch and was so quiet a pin drop could be heard.

  “So?” Libby asked.

  “I guess we know she left us all those years ago willingly,” Adam said, putting down the paper and removing his reading glasses.

  “I don’t think it’s so cut and dry and neither does Fallon.”

  His eyes tightened in front of her. “You told Fallon?”

  “No, not specifically. I asked what would happen to Mikayla if they found out she had left willingly. I shared nothing with her, but she isn’t dumb. I guess I needed to make sure Mikayla was clear of charges regardless of what we decided. But she told me she always believed that she was taken forcefully and convinced to stay, eventually choosing her captor over us.”

  He stood and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a beer. Saying very little, finally, he touched her hand. “Lib, honey, we need to accept facts here. She’s not the kid we raised. I’m not sure I can go through this again. If we go down this path, we may not survive this time. Mikayla is alive, and for now, that is enough for me.”

  “She’s our kid, Adam. She will always be our kid.”

  He took a long hard swig of his beer. “So we go up to Canada then hope she contacts us?”

  “Yes, of course, we do. She’s our daughter. We would do the same for Blake or Jenna.”

  He stood to walk outside and then stopped. “Why Taylor? Out of all of us—Blake, Jenna, myself, or you, why did Mikayla choose her?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think Taylor knows herself.”

  He stopped. “I bet you she does.” He looked back at her. “I love you, Lib, very much, but I need some space. Let me think on this for a while.”

  She hadn’t seen pain in his eyes like that since the month Mikayla went missing. It was a hard pill to swallow. Now, they knew in Mikayla’s own words that she stayed away willingly for a life with someone outside of her family, and with that choice, it intensified the hurt.

  Taylor

  She cursed silently as she parked in front of her house in Alyssa’s beat-up Volvo to find Blake’s BMW in the driveway. As she opened the door, Alyssa signaled to her that Anna was sleeping in her arms, and Emmy and Dexter were quietly watching Thomas the Tank Engine. Great, Taylor thought, Blake was aware of all her many offenses today. From defying him in the kitchen at his parents’ to having Alyssa watch not just Dexter but Jenna’s kids too. Now, Dexter was watching more television.

  Before Taylor could get out a hello, Alyssa said, “Your hubby is pissed.” And under her breath, she could hear her sister say, “What an asswipe.”

  She didn’t have a chance to respond before Blake’s voice blared through the house, beckoning her to their room. “Hey, honey.” She tried to sound upbeat. “I got pretty ill today, and that is why I called Alyssa. Jenna was fine with it. You know she watches Anna, Emmy, and Trent all the time.”

  His eyes were Taylor’s only warning that he was about to become unhinged. It was preceded by an arrogant strut, and his clenched jaw tol
d Taylor she was in his wake. Trying to control her breathing, she stood still, waiting for his storm to pass. “Why the hell didn’t you call me?”

  She had to answer him, or the storm would quickly turn into a category five hurricane. “Because, Blake, you have said repeatedly this is a very busy time for you. Alyssa loves being with Dexter, and she adores your nieces too. I’d never let anyone I didn’t trust watch not just our son, but someone else’s kids, and I checked with Jenna.” She sighed. “I think her exact words were, ‘take your pregnant ass and get some well-needed rest. I know my girls are in good hands.’ She’s aware of how bad I feel now. It would be nice if you were.” With his irises darkening through his eyes, this was one of the many indications she pressed too hard.

  “Don’t tell me what to feel. I know you are exhausted. I don’t like your sister around our son.”

  Ignoring his comments, her reply was, “Now I’m going to spend time with our son,” Taylor announced.

  Before she could go, he grabbed her hand. “I’ve not dismissed you yet.”

  “What the hell am I? An indentured servant? Let go of me.” She whipped her arm away from him and walked out of the room. She motioned Alyssa to the door with Anna in her hands and scooped up Emmy and Dexter before Blake knew they had left.

  Outside, Alyssa refrained from any remarks about her sister’s husband. Taylor loaded the kids into the car and headed to Libby and Adam’s house, where she’d tell them Blake wanted her to stay another night to keep an eye on Libby.

  On her way to her in-laws, Blake was blowing her phone up with texts, phone calls, and voice mails. She was emotionally and physically exhausted and needed a night away from her demanding husband. She finally picked up the phone. “Blake.”

  “Get the hell back home.”

  “I’m staying with your mom again. She needs me. I want a break from you. I love you, but you treat me as your property, and for some reason, I’ve never put my foot down.”

  “This is not a fucking democracy, Taylor. Bring my son home or I will have you charged with kidnapping.”

  “Oh, for heaven's sake, Blake, you know where I’m taking him. He’s going to be with your mom, but by all means, come and get him, if you would like. That would certainly give me a good night’s sleep.”

  He hung up without a word. She looked in her rearview mirror at the boy she adored, and she realized he too would have a wife one day. She only hoped he would treat her differently, with the respect she deserved.

  “Dex, Emmy, my sweethearts, would you like McDonald’s for dinner?” She figured if she was going to disobey Blake, she might as well go all out and get her son some fast food. Jenna would be happy to have Emmy fed, regardless.

  The two older kids who could have fast food squealed in the backseat. “Yes, yes!” Their happiness made her elated, if just for a moment.

  Colette

  Sleep didn’t come easily for her or David that night. After squirming around for hours on the hotel bed, she sat up and turned on the lamp on the nightstand. “David, honey?”

  He was at the desk with a small book lamp, journaling in his notebook. It was a habit he began after they started their lives as Colette and David. “You couldn’t sleep either, Cole?” he asked.

  “No. What are we doing here? We should be home with the kids. I’m not even going to approach my mom if she comes to the park tomorrow. We are just scouting, and who knows if she even has a passport. It slipped my mind yesterday before Taylor took off to rescue the kids. And I knew I needed to get out of there, right then.”

  Putting down his journal and locking it as if it were a little girl’s secret diary, he approached his wife and sat next to her. “Cole, I know you feel conflicted about this, to say the least, but you made this commitment, honey, and we are going to see it through.”

  She laid on his body, feeling the whole length of his slender build comfort her. “Tell me about your nieces and nephew. We have all night. It seems sleep is going to evade us, so let’s sit up and talk like the old days. Remember when we used to do that?” He gave her a wry smile. “Though we found other ways to occupy one another during the night.” He raised his eyebrows and looked at her intimately.

  “Ah, that is what it always comes back to,” she teased. “Is sex all you think about twenty-four hours a day?”

  “No, I do have to sleep, you know,” he teased, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Seriously, though, remember how much fun we had just talking all night long to the point we kept the same hours as the owls.”

  “I remember. Of course, they are the fondest memories of us before we became us,” she replied, caressing her thumb across David’s cheek. “I never regret you, David.”

  Slipping his hands up her pajama top, he massaged her nipples while a moan escaped Colette’s mouth. “I’ll never regret anything of you.” Finding the waistline of her bottoms gave him easy access to her pussy, and he found her core instantly while she lay back and shocks of excitement ran through her. She never tired of the touch from this man who knew her so well that in the first three hours of their relationship, he understood she needed protection.

  “You are mine, Colette, forever.”

  One last swipe of her clit with the pad of his thumb caused an explosion of sorts to shoot through her body. “I belong to you. I’ve always belonged to you.”

  While he settled her close to his heart, smoothing over her auburn hair, she reflected on the day. As a rule of thumb, they never discussed Colette’s past life. Occasionally, she’d admit to missing her mom or sister or dad, but it was very vague, and names were never mentioned. David knew very few stories of her past except for the ones she had shared that winter on the farm. But in the hotel, the rule was put on hiatus.

  “I always appreciated you giving me so much liberty with the kids’ names. I’d hoped by hearing both mom’s first and Jenna’s middle names every day, their spirit would be kept alive in our little drama queen.”

  “What about Liam? Where did that come from?”

  “I just liked it, but Robert is my dad’s middle name.”

  “Why don’t you tell me about Dexter?”

  She smiled, hesitantly at first. “I think I would have been good friends with Taylor in a different life. She looked broken, and I barely know her. It’s apparent her world revolves around her little boy. He has the same wacky curls his dad had growing up. Whereas Jenna and I had this straight, wispy almost white hair, Blake had this curly beautiful hair. Everyone thought he was a girl until he looked like a boy. Now, Dexter has his mom’s light color but Blake’s brown hair and eyes. He will be a handsome little guy, I’m sure.” David’s hands were instantly balled into fists at the sound of Colette’s brother’s name.

  “How did your parents miss his abuse?” David’s hand now moved to her back, attempting to relieve the tension caused by the day’s events.

  “I often wondered that, and there are two possibilities, quite honestly, and I think there is truth to both of them. First off, they just didn’t want to see, and second, he hid it well. I bet you Taylor had no clue until after they were married.”

  “I could literally kill him for the hurt he caused you.”

  Those words didn’t surprise Colette, but she turned to him slowly and said, “Please promise me that you won’t. I can’t handle one more loved one being taken from me because of him.”

  He took her by the chin, looking deeply into her green eyes, and said, “I promise you, honey. He’ll never hurt you again.”

  She fell asleep in his arms, thanking God for his intervention so long ago. Drifting asleep, she realized she just wasn’t strong enough to go home and face her mom, knowing the truth of her son would break her beyond repair. It was better this way for her mom to think Blake was still perfect in her eyes, or at least she thought so—until she saw the brokenness in the eyes of a woman she barely knew. Unbeknownst to Colette, there was the strong connection she couldn’t quite explain when it came to Taylor.

  W
aking an hour later, safe in her husband’s arms, she found his side soaked with her tears. Instantly, as if he sensed it, David sat up, watching the state of his wife.

  Before he could say anything, she began, “You walked me through my life when we were just two lost souls on the farm. You are still walking me through it. At every turn, you are there for me and have never let me go.”

  “I won’t ever let you go. You are my addiction,” he said, trying not to sound cheesy but sincere in his words. “Cole, you are you; it doesn’t matter if your name starts with a C or an M. You will always just be you, my best friend and the mother of our children. Regardless what happens, we can be us, like this, whenever you want. I want you any way I can have you.”

  His endless love for her never ceased to amaze her and catch her off guard. He hated the way her brother had permanently changed her whole character and personality. It used to be something he said often, but it waned through the years as her personality and character soared with each year she was away from the abuse. But in his eyes, she knew that was what he was thinking.

  “I love you too.” They drifted to sleep, readying themselves for whatever the next day had in store for them.

  17

  12 Years Ago

  Month two in captivity

  Mikayla

  She tried to tell herself she didn’t like any place on the farm, but she’d be lying. The front porch looking out onto the snow-covered pastures was her sanctuary, and it almost made her life seem normal when she was sitting there taking in the beauty of the view. Sitting on a rocking chair with a couple of blankets, she sensed Nolan’s eyes on her as he quietly stepped out on the porch. “I knew if you weren’t in your room, you’d be here,” he said, handing her a cup of coffee as he sipped his tea. She was as frigid to his words as the outside temperature. “Mikayla, I’m only trying to protect you.”