The Stolen Breath

by L. G. Davis

  I dial 911 and press the phone to my ear.

  Nothing happens. There’s no cell service. I have to rely on the Wifi.

  As sweat pools into my armpits, I sign into my email account. I need to send an email to someone, but who? If I can’t even trust my best friend, who can I turn to?

  Ray. He’s my boss and he must be wondering where I am. He’ll call the police.

  The first thing that catches my attention is an email from Miranda, a response to mine. Desperate for answers, I open it.

  Delia,

  You’re right, it’s been a long time since we saw each other. Frankly, I have no idea why you’re writing to me. I never expected you to keep in touch. And I would appreciate it if you don’t contact me again.

  It was hard for us to lose my sister and we do not want to be reminded of her.

  Please delete my email address. We were not friends and that’s never going to change.

  Her response is not at all what I expected. Clayton said Tina’s family are out to get me. If they are, Miranda would have reacted in a completely different way. She would have demanded to know where I am, or threatened to call the police.

  Before I can recover or do anything else, my phone dies in my hand.

  “Is everything all right in there? I can’t wait to see my bride.”

  “Almost,” I call out in a chocked voice and slowly rise from the bed. Miranda’s email changes everything.

  I’m not wanted for Tina’s murder. Clayton lied to keep me on his boat. If he lied about that, what else is he hiding?

  Chapter 28

  When my mother was alive, she used to tell me that the most important skill I could ever learn is to listen to my intuition.

  Right now, my intuition is screaming for me to run. Every inch of my body is telling me that I’m in danger, and if I don’t get away fast, something terrible will happen.

  I’m standing next to the bed, wearing the wedding dress Clayton bought for our fake wedding. Instead of making me feel and look beautiful, it makes me itch. It suffocates me.

  I grab the material at the sides of the dress, like a runaway bride about to bolt. My gaze flickers to the door. As long as it’s locked, I’m safe. I need to come up with a plan. His patience will soon wear off.

  “Are you done in there? Do you need help?” I can already hear the impatience in his voice.

  “No. Only a few buttons left.” I pace around the room, forcing my mind to show me a way out.

  “Are you sure you don’t need help? There are quite a lot of buttons on that dress.”

  “Yes, but they’re on the side. I can reach them. I’ll be done soon.” My throat is so thick I can barely get the words out. I wrap my hands around the fabric of the dress, crunching it.

  “All right then, but hurry.”

  I scan the room in search for a way out. I wonder if there’s a secret door, like there is in my cabin. I search the walls with my hands, pressing my palms against the wood. No luck.

  The only way out of the room is the door or the balcony. Given my fear of water, I’ve steered clear of it, but I might have no choice but to face my worst fears. From what I could see when we arrived, the balcony seems to run the full length of the boat. It might lead me to the exit.

  I take a step toward the glass door, expecting it to be locked. Tears of relief well up in my eyes when it slides open easily. A gust of wind makes the light curtains flutter around me like a veil.

  Before I can step over the threshold, a loud crash makes me whirl around, and I gasp in surprise.

  He’s not stupid. He suspected I was up to something.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Delia?” he asks, his brows drawn together to form a deep line in the center of his face. “Are you trying to get away?”

  Explaining would be a waste of time. Instead, I do the only thing that seems right in the moment, the only thing that can save me. I open the door wider and step out of the cabin, the curtains brushing across my body as they let me through.

  Clayton’s angry shouts ring in the air, but I can’t understand his words through the rush of blood and adrenaline in my ears.

  Before he can make it to the sliding door, I slam it shut as hard as I can, catching his hand. He lets out a loud grunt of pain, and through the glass I witness his eyes burn with a mixture of anger, disappointment, and pain. They’re the same emotions I saw the day I rejected his proposal.

  I run. The dress slows me down, but it will not stop me.

  Clayton has left the cabin as well and he’s after me, clutching his injured hand to his chest protectively.

  I try not to trip on all the fabric around my legs. I’m nearly limping, my knees weak from fear and from all the days I was cooped up inside.

  “You’re making a mistake,” he yells. “You can’t get away from me.”

  I don’t know if I can outrun him. I’m not fast or strong enough.

  On my left is the water, and there is no way I’ll jump to my death. I can only force my legs to keep going even if my muscles are already weak with exhaustion.

  When I run past an empty cabin, I realize that in order to get away, I’ll need my wallet and car keys. Not only do I need money, I’ll need my car to drive out of this town and far away from Clayton.

  As long as I’m in Oakney, Clayton will not stop chasing me. Especially now that I have rejected him in the worst possible way. He got to see me in the wedding dress he bought. He got to imagine us together. And now, for the second time, I’m turning my back on him. He waited years to get me back only to lose me again. He’ll be out for revenge.

  I hate to think what he will do if he gets his hands on me.

  The wind is swinging my hair from side to side, drops of water landing on my face. I can’t tell whether it’s drizzling or whether the drops are from the ocean.

  My body wants to give up, to crumple to the floor and curl up into a ball. But I need to save myself so I can save my daughter.

  I throw a glance behind me. Clayton is no longer running. The lights at the side of the boat are bright enough for me to see the grin on his face.

  Terror shakes me. For him to be so relaxed must mean he knows I can’t get away.

  I slow down when I come across a cabin with a man sleeping on a single bed. Is it the person who was steering the boat?

  The balcony door is locked so I can’t get in. I knock on it, but the man doesn’t react.

  I continue moving forward.

  Clayton is running again, faster this time, closing the distance between us. After running only a few steps, his hand shoves me hard between the shoulder blades.

  I go flying forward, the wooden floor coming to meet my face.

  But it’s not over. His hand is tight around my ankle now. He’s trying to pull me back, but I’m kicking hard. I won’t make it easy for him. My foot comes into contact with something, maybe his face. He swears under his breath and releases my ankle.

  “Let me go, Clayton,” I shout above the sound of the waves striking the side of the boat. “Please, don’t do this.”

  “Never,” he roars. “You’re not leaving me again.”

  He tries to get hold of my free ankle, but I bend my leg and kick back as hard as I can. I strike him hard enough in the face that he lets go of my other ankle as well.

  I clamber away from him. Even though it’s hard to crawl in a wedding dress, I do the best I can until I’m far out of his reach. I scramble to my feet and stumble forward. When I glance behind me, I see Clayton pressing the heel of his hand to his left eye.

  This time I don’t get far before I come across an unlocked balcony door. I run inside, locking it behind me.

  It’s only a matter of time before he finds me again. My entire body is shaking and my forehead is throbbing with pain from hitting the floor earlier. I bend forward and draw in a few deep breaths, willing my lungs to stop burning.

  With my hand pressed to my side to massage away the stitch, I charge forward. I stumble through th
e carpeted corridor until I find my cabin. When I grab my handbag, the contents fall to the floor. I keep an eye on the door as I gather only the things I need.

  I run out of the cabin with one hand gathering up the skirt of the dress, so I don’t stumble. I hurry down the hallway toward the front of the boat.

  I stop when I come across a cabin with a white crib in the corner of the room. A pink and white folded blanket is visible through the bars.

  The sight changes everything.

  If Clayton really has Lea, how could I possibly get off the boat without finding her? I burst into the room and grab the sides of the crib, then I lift the blanket as if expecting to find Lea hiding under it. She’s not, and now I can hear footsteps.

  He’s coming for me, and he’s running.

  Maybe the only way for me to find my child is to come face to face with him again, even if I’m overcome by my fear.

  While I wait for him to arrive, I realize that the cabin has an open door that leads into an adjoining bedroom. I run into it. Maybe I can search for Lea on the boat without having to confront Clayton. I close the door softly.

  When I turn around again to face the room, my stomach drops.

  The cabin is empty. The only thing that’s not bare are two walls, which are decorated in pictures and words.

  Photos of me. Photos of Clayton. Newspaper articles from Tina’s death.

  With mounting terror, I realize that I totally misread Clayton. He’s so much worse than I thought.

  Chapter 29

  Clayton kicks down the door and fills the doorway.

  I’m ready for him. I tried to talk myself into escaping through the balcony again before he finds me, but I have to find out where Lea is. I need to face him, to demand the truth. I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t.

  He kidnapped my child. The teddy bear that I found on my doorstep was from him. That’s why it had stitches, a reminder of the kidney he had given me. The stuffed bean toy was also a symbol of the organ.

  How long has he been stalking me? Many questions touch the tip of my tongue, but they will have to wait. Lea comes first.

  I’m standing in the middle of the empty room, my hand tight around the back of the only chair in the room. If he dares approach me, I won’t hesitate to strike him.

  “Delia,” he says, massaging his hand, a faint smile on his lips. “I see you’ve found my special room. I knew you would.” Instead of coming straight for me, he moves to one of the walls, one with my wedding photos. I’m in every one of them, but instead of Andrew by my side, it’s Clayton. He has cut out my husband’s face and replaced it with his.

  The sight makes my skin crawl.

  I open my lips to speak, but I can’t find the words. I was ready for him, ready to confront his evil side, but now that he’s in the room with me, I find myself tongue-tied. Holding on to the chair for support, I force saliva down my throat. Dizziness is slowly creeping up on me.

  “This is my favorite.” He places a finger on a photo of me walking down the aisle, clutching a bouquet of pale pink and white peonies, looking happy and vibrant. “You were a stunning bride.” He turns to face me. “It was hard seeing you marrying another man. When you see someone else taking what belongs to you, it’s heart-wrenching.”

  It sickens me to know that Clayton was at my wedding, and I hadn’t even noticed. He must have been sitting in one of the front pews, among the invited guests. He had been close enough to get the perfect shot. From the look of all the photos on the walls, he was part of every moment of the life I built in Sarton. Maybe he started stalking me right after I left Oakney.

  “Where’s my child?” I grind the words out through my teeth. “I know you took her.”

  When he doesn’t respond, just stands there with a sneer on his face, I lose it. Driven by something deep within, something raw and jagged around the edges, I forget my fear of him and charge toward him.

  My hands are balled into fists as they come into contact with his chest and almost knock him back.

  “Don’t be stupid, Delia.” He attempts to cover his face, but I manage to scratch his forehead. I want to hurt him as much as he hurt me, but he grabs my hands tight and drags me to the chair, forcing me to sit down, turning my head so I face the pictures on the wall.

  “Take a good look.” He stands behind me and squeezes my shoulders so hard that I grit my teeth in agony. “That’s how our life was supposed to be. But you decided to run from your destiny.”

  “Clayton, I want my baby. What did you do with her? Where is she?” The fear of what he could have done to my child is eating me alive.

  “Our baby, you mean?” He moves around the chair and comes to face me. “Lea was supposed to be our child. We were supposed to build a life together.” He pushes a hand into his pocket. When he removes it, two gold bands rest in the palm of his hand. “You were supposed to wear my ring. But instead you ran into the arms of another man while you still had my kidney inside you.” He dips his head to the side. “They say it’s quite rare for friends or family members to be perfect matches. But when I was told that my kidney was perfect for you, I knew we belong together.”

  I swallow down my disgust. “You gave the kidney to me freely. I did not ask for it.”

  “You didn’t need to. It was my gift of love.” He plants a hand on one of the chair’s armrests and brings his face close to mine. His breath is hot on my face.

  I meet his gaze. “Where’s my child?”

  “That’s a conversation for later. First I want you to tell me why you ran from me.” He stretches back to his full height, towering over me. He looks strong and intimidating, but his eyes are wet with tears. “You offered to try on that dress. You made me believe you wanted to marry me. But you were leading me on again, weren’t you?” He wipes the tears from his eyes with the heel of his hand.

  “We were friends, Clayton. That’s all we were. I never gave you a reason to believe we were more.” The truth hurts, but he needs to hear it once and for all.

  “No,” he shouts. “You loved me. You just didn’t know it yet. I did everything to make you see me as more than your friend. But you broke my heart. I thought maybe it was because I wasn’t good enough for you. You wanted a sexy, handsome guy. I wanted to become that for you. That’s why I got rid of the mole and spent hours every day in the gym to get these.” He glances down at one of his biceps, flexing it a little. “I reinvented myself for you. Tell me you appreciate that. Tell me you love me as much as I love you.”

  I stare at him in disbelief. It’s hard to believe that the man in front of me was once my friend. That we used to spend hours and hours together. We ate together. We did our homework together. How could I have known that an unhealthy obsession was growing inside him?

  “Clayton, I’m so sorry if I made you believe there was more. I never meant to hurt you.” My own tears course down my cheeks. “Please give me my daughter back. Don’t hurt her. She did nothing wrong.”

  His eyes are wild as he sinks to the floor. The rings fall from his hand and roll away from him. Then he buries his face into his hands and breaks down in front of me.

  Chapter 30

  When Clayton looks at me again, his eyes are bloodshot and his face is streaked with tears. “I don’t have your daughter,” he says, his voice flat. “I swear to you, I don’t have her.”

  “If that’s true, then why do you have a crib in the other room?”

  He shakes his head. “I wanted to prepare for her return. I wanted to find her for you, so the three of us could start over like a real family.”

  “If you don’t have her, who does?” I jump to my feet and he does the same. When he starts walking toward me, I back away in the direction of the balcony entrance.

  “I know who has her, but before I give you that information, I need to know that you love me. I made you come to town and to this boat so you can admit your love for me. Tell me you love me and I’ll find your daughter. We’ll be one happy family. I’ll raise her l
ike my own child.”

  “Stay away from me.” I take another step back, fear becoming a living thing inside my body.

  He stops walking. “Let’s not make this more complicated than it needs to be. Deep down, you know you love me. Surely, spending time with me on this romantic boat must have reminded you of how you feel about me.”

  “I don’t feel any romantic feelings for you,” I say with conviction. “Telling you that I do would be a lie. You don’t want that.”

  “Don’t say that.” He crosses the space between us so fast that it takes me by surprise. He tries to grab me, but I rush out onto the balcony before he has a chance to lay his hands on me.

  The air outside feels cooler than before.

  Trying to reason with a man who is this unwell will get me nowhere.

  I realize too late that I forgot my handbag, but there’s no turning back now. I have to get off the boat before Clayton does something to hurt me.

  I don’t see the dead end coming.

  I thought that when I reached the bow, I would find a staircase leading to the exit.

  Wrong. To my right is the water, and to my left is a closed window.

  Clayton is taking his time walking toward me. He knows I can’t get away.

  My lower back is pressed against the railing, my hands grabbing it, my body both hot and cold.

  “Please, Clayton. Don’t hurt me.”

  “Hurting you has never been part of the plan,” he says, rubbing his cheek. “I just wanted to love you.”

  “But you know I also need to love you back for this to work. Do you really want to be with someone who doesn’t feel the way you do?”

  “If you don’t love me now, you can learn to. You have to give me a chance. You owe it to me.”

  I glance behind me at the water below. It’s glistening, calling for me to jump into it, to hide beneath its depths. It wouldn’t take me long to swim to the side where the boat is resting against the dock, but I can’t swim. If I land in the water, my fear will pull me under. I’d be jumping to my death.

  When I look back at Clayton, his lips are twitching. “You’re not thinking of jumping, are you?” he asks. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You can’t swim. That’s why I brought you to this boat. I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t get away again.” He reaches behind him. When his hand comes back holding a pen knife, I forget how to breathe.