by Peak, Renna
I finally turned to her. “You were with another guy. Next door. I heard you through the wall and I went over there and brought you back to our room. I picked you up and took you out of the room. That’s it. That’s all that happened—you were with another guy and it didn’t seem like the best situation. They—I mean he—wasn’t thrilled that I interrupted your fun. But it seemed like you were in trouble, so I did. Interrupt, I mean.”
The look that came over her face was inexplicable. Some combination of horror, panic and terror filled her eyes. Her voice dropped to something barely above a whisper—barely audible through the cracking. “No.”
“I’m sorry. I did pass out that night and I should have never left you alone. You—“
“No.” Tears filled her eyes and she opened the car door, doubling over to puke onto the sidewalk. She stayed like that, her body hunched over and I could see she had begun sobbing.
I did the only thing I could think of—I reached over and touched her back, feeling her body convulse with what I could only assume were tears of shame. My cheeks burned—I hated myself for having to tell her. I had never wanted to wish away her child as she had accused me of, but I definitely wished neither of us had to remember that night.
We sat like that for a long moment. She finally sat back up, closing the car door and leaning back into her seat. She wiped at her face, trying to blink back the tears that still filled her eyes and that I could see were still streaming down her cheeks. “I thought it was a nightmare. Like a hallucination or something. Because when I woke up, I was with you. And that seemed okay…” Her voice trailed off and she turned back to the window.
“I’m sorry, Melissa. I swore after that night I was never going to drink again. And I haven’t. If I hadn’t been drunk, I would have been able to stop you—“
She shook her head, interrupting me. “If I hadn’t been drunk, I wouldn’t have had an orgy with the guys next door. I did, didn’t I? There was more than one guy, wasn’t there…?” Whatever she was asking was cut off by her choked sobs again.
I didn’t need to tell her that there was more than one guy. I hadn’t counted, but there was definitely more than one guy. And if there hadn’t been a few other women there, too, I likely wouldn’t have made it out of there with her. I wouldn’t have lived to tell about it, anyway. And she might have ended up a lot worse off than pregnant.
This probably wasn’t the right moment for this conversation. But I was pretty tired of hearing about how that baby was mine—that I had some responsibility to her for that night, other than taking her away from what was a less than ideal situation. I had told her I would help her with her kid, and I had every intention of fulfilling that promise.
I needed to figure out where Jen had gone—that was a much more important issue at the moment. I knew I had to be calm enough for both of us—Melissa was going to be useless if she didn’t calm down at least a little. And I really did need her help this time. I reached over to touch her shoulder. “I know this sucks. I realize that this isn’t the best time for this, but I need your help. You need to tell me exactly what you said to Ryan today. And exactly what he said to you.”
“I panicked, Brandon. I thought I was going to lose you. I thought—“
“I realize that. I understand. And I’m not mad.” That was a lie, but it would have to do for now. “I just really need to know what you said to him. What he said to you.”
She nodded, gulping down her sobs. “I told him that you were coming to Vegas with Jenna. I told him that you called me and asked me to help you. I told him what a bastard you were for asking me to help you when I was pregnant with your baby and that it didn’t matter if you were still in love with her.” She sniffled. “I told him I wanted her gone. For good this time. And I told him I wanted it to hurt you. I wanted you to hurt so bad that you wouldn’t have any choice but to be with me.”
My hands clenched into fists again and I cracked my knuckles. I had to force my lips not to curl into a sneer at her words. Of course she would want to hurt me—I had done that to myself, letting her believe—at least on some level—that the child she was carrying was mine. But the knowledge that she had so much hatred for Jen—it was something I could hardly bear.
I slammed my fist into my thigh, pounding it again and again until the rage inside of me abated a little. When I was finally able to speak, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to hear the answer to the question. “What did he say?”
She took a sharp breath, her voice quaking again with what I was sure would be sobbing. “He said he knew exactly how to hurt both of you.” She sniffled a few times and I could hear the tears in her voice. “Not how. Who. He said he knew who could hurt both of you.”
I felt my jaw drop and my eyes closed involuntarily. There was only one person other than Jen’s father who could hurt us both. And there was only one person who would want to hurt us. And the thought of having to deal with him again didn’t just make me angry. I didn’t want to admit it, but my racing heart and the fact that my palms were now dripping with sweat would have given me away to anyone who cared to notice. I was afraid. Afraid of what he was capable of and of what I knew he would do to Jen if he ever had the opportunity to do anything to her again.
There was no denying it. Daniel put the fear of God in me, and I wasn’t sure what in the hell I was going to do about it.
5
This isn’t happening. Not now. Not again.
I couldn’t even bring myself to look at him. I just wished for the ground to open up and swallow me whole—anything would have been better than this.
I expected there to be some kind of exchange—the men who had taken me had obviously wanted something in return. There was supposed to be a trade—I had heard them talking about it. But it was silent, and I couldn’t open my eyes to see what was going on. I was just there, kneeling with my hands behind my back and my mouth taped closed, not even able to scream or cry out for help. Not that there had been anyone there who would have been willing to help me.
“I’m just shocked.” It was Daniel’s voice—I would have recognized the low tone anywhere. “It shouldn’t have been that easy.”
I opened my eyes to slits to see that Daniel had walked over from where he had parked to stand closer to me and the other men. His head was cocked—he really did seem surprised. He held a large envelope in one hand, his other hand on his waist. Something about the way he stood—there was a gun. I’m not sure how I knew, but I did. There was still a wide gap between us—it was pretty clear that Daniel didn’t trust these men and that the feeling was mutual.
Daniel motioned toward me with his head, his hand never leaving his belt. “Have her walk toward me. I’ll toss the envelope as soon as she’s over halfway.”
My arms screamed in agony as the driver lifted me to my feet by my shoulders. I must have made some kind of sound through my duct-taped mouth because I saw Daniel wince.
He cares.
It was the oddest thought and the strangest time, but it helped me find the ability to stand. The weakness in my legs melted away for a moment as I got to my feet.
The driver gave me a slight shove and I began walking toward Daniel. I had a brief thought that I should run, but I pushed it out of my head just as quickly. There was no sense in running, even if I wanted to. There was nowhere to go. And I still had my arms pinned behind me with handcuffs and my mouth was taped closed. Not to mention the heat—it had to be over a hundred degrees outside and we had been driving through the desert for some time with no sign of other people. I would have died if I had run. And my death would have been for nothing.
But at least it would be on my terms.
With every step I took toward Daniel, the knowledge of what I needed to do grew clearer and clearer. I would run. But not until I got the handcuffs and the duct tape removed. And it didn’t matter if I died. Not now—now that I had nothing.
Daniel tossed the envelope into the space between him and the driver as soon as I crossed
the midway point. I quickened my step—Daniel might not have been safer than the three men who had taken me captive, but at least I knew him. I didn’t hold any sway with him—I wasn’t dumb enough to think that—but at least he was a known commodity. I had no idea what the other three might have done.
“The key.” Daniel motioned with his head toward me as I came closer to him. “For the handcuffs.”
The driver tossed the key to him, and Daniel reached out to catch it.
His voice lowered so that only I could hear him. “Stand by the car, Jenna. Keep your back turned.”
I lifted my gaze to meet his for only a second. There was something there—something that wasn’t tinged with malice or hatred the way it had been for so long before. It seemed almost insane to think that maybe he’d had a change of heart. That perhaps he did care for me—maybe he always had and had just had a strange way of showing it.
You have the right to shut up, Jenna. And I knew needed to shut off that voice in my head to survive this.
I did as he said, though, tearing my gaze from his as I walked to where he had parked. I forced myself not to turn around. Tears streamed down my cheeks when I heard the two gunshots, but I couldn’t bring myself to see what had happened. I didn’t want to know.
I stood next to the passenger door of the car Daniel had driven to the meeting point, never turning back around to look at the other car. It might have been a minute or it might have been an hour later when I felt Daniel standing behind me.
He unlocked the handcuffs and put his hands on my shoulders, kneading them with his thumbs as though he knew how much they must have ached from being pinned behind me for so long.
I closed my eyes. My brain was screaming at me, telling me to run—my hands were free now and I could pull the tape from my mouth. I should have at least fought him, but I just stood there with my eyes closed.
Enjoying it.
I must have flinched pretty hard at the realization because he dropped his hands as soon as I had the thought.
We stood there in silence for a moment longer before he put his hands on top of my shoulders again and dipped his head to speak into my ear. “I’m sorry.”
My stomach did some kind of weird flip and my mind reeled. This was Daniel. Wasn’t it?
I opened my eyes at the sound of the passenger door opening and I looked up at him, now standing in front of me.
He reached over and tried to pull on the edge of the tape, trying to remove it from the side of my face.
I caught his hand and brushed it away, pulling the tape away myself. I had to close my eyes again for a moment at the sting of the skin being peeled away with the tape.
I balled it up and tossed it to the ground, opening my eyes again to look at Daniel. I heard the roar of the engine of the other car behind me and it took every bit of willpower I had to not turn around to look to see who was in it. My chest tightened at the thought of a family losing their father, and I somehow knew that Marty was one of the recipients of a gunshot. I just knew I couldn’t turn around to verify my instincts. I knew I shouldn’t, anyway.
“You should get in. We have a lot to talk about.” I couldn’t read Daniel’s expression, but I could see that he wasn’t trying to be evil. I couldn’t remember the last time he looked at me like that—it was almost the same look of … something. The way he had looked at me when our parents told us we were going to be married. It wasn’t pity, exactly, it was more … empathy. Like we were in the same boat, so we might as well make the best of it.
I got into the car without a word to him. I couldn’t think of anything to say, even though I had a million things to say to him. To ask him. But I couldn’t think of the right thing. I should have been angry. I should have been scared. But all I felt was guilt at what I knew had happened to the two fake cops in that car.
And there was something else. The unexpected lightness I felt and my inability to say anything. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I was relieved. It didn’t make sense—nothing about my life made much sense, but this… This made no sense at all. That I would be relieved that Daniel was the one meeting the car after I had first been terrified out of my mind. I wasn’t sure where it was coming from, but I wanted it to go away. I wanted to feel disgusted. I wanted to feel angry and hurt and betrayed, but I didn’t.
And from what I could read in his expression—in his body language and posture—he wasn’t feeling any of those things, either.
I tried to remember the last time I had seen him. How angry I had been with him—how he had betrayed me. How I could never forgive him for the first time he had kidnapped me. What he had done to me—how he had drugged me and how I couldn’t remember anything about that day.
He sat down behind the wheel of the car and I could see him looking over at me from the corner of my eye. I kept my gaze fixed on the desert in front of me, trying to find something interesting about the vast expanse of sand that stretched out for as far as my eyes could see. There was something in the distance—a bush or a cactus, and I tried to keep my focus on that. I told myself that if I ran, I would go there.
Daniel must have been reading my mind. “Don’t run. We’re literally in the middle of nowhere, and there isn’t anywhere for you to run to.”
I think I nodded. I hated that he made sense. I hated that I didn’t have any options now—even the guys who were ready to double cross Daniel were dead. I was sure of that. And there would be no way for anyone to find me out here. They probably wouldn’t even find my body when I died—it would be carried off by animals and vultures before anyone had the opportunity to find me. I was alone and my only hope—the only other person who could help me—was Daniel. How had this even happened? I tried to replay the events in my mind one more time—there was just so much. Too much. An hour ago—or was it longer?—I was about to marry the love of my life. The man I thought was the love of my life. And then my best friend showed up with two police officers and had me carted away.
Why?
It was a question I’d had to ask myself too often. I was tired of my life not making any sense. I was sick of having to constantly run for my life and all I could think about—the only thing that I could hang any amount of reason on was letting it all go.
Even if it meant letting Brandon go, too.
6
Driving through the desert made me realize that it was a lot like my life—a vast expanse of nothing. Nothing meaningful, anyway. The occasional majestic cactus seemed like it meant nothing at all when the long intervals of nothingness punctuated each appearance.
It was a strange time to be having an existential crisis. I just couldn’t help but feel that my life had no real meaning aside from what other people had assigned it. My life was only meaningful because of who my father was. Because I had been engaged to Daniel. Because I had loved Brandon. But there was nothing that was mine. Nothing that was meaningful on its own in my life. I’d had the piano at one time, but I hadn’t played at all in any significant way since I had left that cabin in Montana so long ago. And it was a long time ago—in many ways, it seemed like it was a lifetime ago. And that life had belonged to a different person.
As we drove in silence through the massive desert, I realized that it didn’t matter if Daniel had had a change of heart when it came to his feelings about me. If he had somehow been able to leave his anger behind and find some way of living for something besides revenge, it didn’t matter. I was probably misreading him, anyway—it wasn’t as though people were able to change like that. Someone like Daniel would never be able to change his personality—not in any meaningful way.
And that was what was wrong with me, too. I couldn’t change myself in any meaningful way, either. And I didn’t want to live like this any longer—waiting for the next thing to happen to me. I wanted to make my life happen or not live at all. I wanted to be in charge—I wanted to run a business or play the piano or do something. But I knew I wanted to do—I needed it. I didn’t want to wait and see what was
going to happen next. I wanted to make something happen.
I think that was the moment that I decided that things were going to be different. That I was the one who was going to take charge of my life. There would be no more directives from my father or Brandon or anyone else. I wasn’t going to let anyone dictate anything about my life to me ever again. Even if it meant my life was going to be shorter because of it. And I knew that it would be—that my life would be cut significantly shorter if I stood my ground and made my own rules. But I’d had enough. Enough of the happening to me for a lifetime, and if it meant wandering in the desert until some creature ate me alive, it would be better than this. Better than waiting for what happened next.
“We’re almost there.” I saw Daniel glance over at me again from the corner of my eye. “My place isn’t much, but it’s comfortable. Your shoulders probably still hurt—you can take a shower if you want.”
I felt my eyebrows knit together—surely he wasn’t insinuating what I thought he was. I turned to look at him and he looked away. I could see a flush creeping across his cheeks.
“I didn’t mean it like that. You know. I just meant because your muscles are sore…” He squirmed a little, shifting in his seat. He cleared his throat. “You can do whatever you want.”
My brow furrowed again and I turned back to look at the road. There was something in the distance—a building, I thought, but it was hard to tell how far away it was. It was hard to judge anything—distance of buildings, my thoughts, his actions—and I wasn’t sure if it was because of the desert heat or because I was losing my mind. It might have been a combination of both.
“I should have brought some water. I wasn’t really thinking about it—this all happened so fast. I did ask them not to cuff you. I should have said something about not duct-taping you, too, but I didn’t think about that. I can’t even imagine the memories that must have brought back…” His voice trailed off and he went silent again, almost as though he was embarrassed that he had said anything at all.
