Willing Captive(50)

“He said that you were thirteen and you were at the warehouse on a Saturday. You climbed a tree because, apparently, that was your thing back then.” Smiling at me, he pushed my now-damp hair away from my face. “And you fell. Only you didn’t.”

I remember that! I broke my arm and passed out.

I’m confused.

Nox explained, “You were pushed, Lily. When you fell, you fell hard, and passed out. Your dad said he never let you go far and always said for you to-”

We both said, “Stay close.”

My dad said that to me daily.

He nods. “He saw the whole thing, baby. And I heard it in his voice. The fear. It’s likely something he’ll never get over. Watching your kid be drugged and stuffed into the back of a van; I can’t even imagine what that would be like.”

My voice shudders, “No. No, that’s not what happened. I fell. I broke my arm and passed out. I woke up in the hospital.”

Nox takes my hand as he gently utters, “Baby. Yeah, you woke up in hospital. A week later.”

My stomach dips and my mouth parts, expelling a quick breath with a whoosh.

Feeling the color drain out of me, I ask, “Who was it?”

Nox shrugs. “Not anyone known to your father. An employee and his wife. Your dad got a lead early on from another employee who’d overheard something shady, and you were found the next morning in a cabin not far out. The wife was hysterical because you wouldn’t wake. She all but threw you to the medics that arrived, begging for them to help. A bit ironic that the person putting you in harm’s way didn’t want you harmed at all.”

He continues, “But I guess desperate times call for desperate measures. See, they had a son who was ill and needed money for an organ donation. They tried to get the money from other sources, but they just couldn’t get enough. They ran church fundraisers, appealed for help on television, even asked your father for money, which I’ll add, that he gave twenty-thousand dollars to. It just wasn’t enough. So, they tried for a ransom.”

Not caring about my story any longer, I ask softly, “What happened to him? The son.”

Nox shakes his head slowly and I’m suddenly overcome with emotion for this family I don’t know. Lowering my face into my hands, my body shakes with silent sobs.

He adds, “The husband and wife got jail time, but the husband took most of the wrap, so the wife got a suspended sentence with the help of your father. Not long after the husband was jailed, the son took a turn for the worst and didn’t make it in time for surgery. The wife killed herself a week later, and a week after that, the husband was also found dead in his cell.”

I can’t listen anymore. I choke out through shuddering breaths, “Stop. No more. I can’t. No more, please.”

That is a tragedy. A goddamn tragedy.

I’m overwhelmed by this information. And suddenly, nothing in my life seems all that bad anymore. Still sobbing, I whisper, “Why wouldn’t anyone help them?”

Nox’s face turns soft. “People tried to help, baby, but sometimes it’s not enough.”

Anger surges through me and I shout, “My dad could’ve helped them! He could’ve given them the money! The whole amount! We’re f*cking rich, Nox!”

He looks me in the eye. He doesn’t respond. He can’t argue. He knows what I just said is accurate.

He holds me while I quietly cry myself to sleep.





***





“Baby, wake up.” This is whispered into my ear. I groan quietly and swat at the face by my ear, clipping his cheek. Nox chuckles, “C’mon, princess. Get up.”

My puffed and gritty eyes open and the room is completely dark.

As in, no sunshine dark. I look to the clock on the nightstand and it reads 5:47 am.

What the effing eff?

Pushing Nox away, I mumble, “Go away. Sleepy.”

His arms come around my waist, and he chuckles huskily, “Good morning, baby.”

I scoff, “This is not morning, Nox! This is the ass-crack of dawn.”

Pulling me close, he says, “Now you’re up, you can kiss me.”

Although that sounds mighty fine, reality reminds me to remind him, “You know, I have cotton mouth so bad, that my morning breath would make you pass out. So, no. And I’m pretty sure I have drool dried around my mouth from crying all night, too.”

Pulling my head into his chest, his body shakes with silent laughter. And I smile, wrapping my arms around him. Still thoroughly amused, he agrees, “Point taken. But once you brush your teeth, I get a kiss. Now get up and get dressed. We don’t have a lot of time.”

What?

At this point, my confusion is such a constant state that people would have to start classifying me as special. “Where are we going?”

Getting out of bed, he states, “It’s a surprise. So get your shit together. And make it quick.”

Rolling out of bed, I put on my best sultry voice, “Oooh, baby. I love when you get mean.”

“Lily.” A firm warning.

We both shower and dress in a jiff. I put on a pair of sweats and a tank, but Nox takes one of his jackets and throws it over my shoulders. He dresses in his usual black cargo pants and a black tee, but adds a jacket and baseball cap. And, sigh, he looks like he just stepped out of a fitness magazine.