Libby

She stood outside Mikayla’s dorm room, waiting on her daughter for their weekly dinner. Her friends envied their time together, but that was how she maintained a friendship with her children, especially the youngest. She loved Jenna, but she was more independent as the oldest. She adored Blake and was very proud of the accomplishments he’d made at such a young age. However, Mikayla was her kindred spirit. She couldn’t quite explain it, if it even needed to be explained. Mikayla just got her as a mom, and she understood Mikayla’s quirkiness.

Mikayla never had the stressful teen years when most girls fought for independence from their mothers. She and Mikayla were as close during those years as they’d always been. Standing at just a little over five feet, she didn’t look like she had an eighteen, twenty-one, and twenty-four-year-old. With her slim build, curly brown hair, and light freckles, she looked more like a young mother than that of a woman approaching her fifties with three adult children.

She looked down at her watch. Mikayla was almost twenty minutes late, and it wasn’t like her daughter. Libby couldn’t be on time to save her life, but Mikayla never let that deter her from being punctual. That is something I got right without even trying, she thought, though she also had her own husband to thank.

As she heard the side door to the stairwell open, she half expected Mikayla to come running down the hall using one of the same excuses Libby had given for many years as payback. Looking up, she saw Jill Roberts, Mikayla’s lifetime friend, walking toward her.

“Hey, Mrs. Miller. Here for your weekly dinner date with Kay?”

She tried to ignore Jill and her stupid nickname. “Yes, that is right. I’m waiting on Mikayla,” she said, emphasizing the whole name. “Have you seen her?”

“No, as a matter of fact, I have not. I’m not sure I even saw her this morning, to be quite honest, but that’s not unusual,” she replied casually.

Libby looked at her, surprised she was not in the least bit worried that Mikayla might not sleep in her dorm from time to time. “Why is that not unusual, Jill?”

“Um,” she started as if carefully thinking out her next statement. “Well, you know, Mrs. Miller, this is college, and there are no bedtimes or curfews. I don’t sleep here some nights either. It’s just the experience. Have you tried her cell phone?”

In 2005, phones didn’t grace the hands of every person, but her husband, Adam, finally put his foot down against her protest. Now that she was starting to worry about her daughter, she was glad Mikayla had it even though she’d fought the technology for years. Libby continued, “Oh, I forget sometimes we have those now. Mine’s in the car. Can you call her?”

“Sure, Mrs. M. She always answers and normally on the first ring,” Jill said to her, trying to calm her down as Jill dialed Mikayla’s number. When no one picked up, Jill stood in front of her, biting her lip as she drew her eyebrows together.

Unable to break her gaze from her daughter’s best friend, goose bumps traveled up her arms and covered her entire body when she confessed, “Jill, you’re scaring me.”

“Her phone went straight to voice mail, and it never does that. I’m not sure how to explain it. She’s out of class, and Mikayla is glued to her cell because she’s afraid she’ll miss out on something.” Pressing more numbers on her mobile, Jill waited for someone to answer while her lips trembled, and she reached her hand out to the wall for stability. “Ethan, it’s Jill. Do you know where Mikayla is?” She waited for a reply and then said, “No, was she with you last night?” Again, Jill stood there and looked down, avoiding eye contact with a frightened Libby. “She wasn’t here this morning, so I assumed she stayed with you.”

Libby started asking frantic questions, while Jill tried to hush her as she spoke with this Ethan person who she knew nothing about.

“So when was the last time you saw her?” Again, a long pause. “Her mom is here now, and she’s not answering her cell.” Again, Jill waited for this Ethan person to speak. “Really? Okay. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Libby crossed her arms, glancing repeatedly at the clock; every second that ticked by was another without Mikayla. “Who the hell is Ethan?” she asked wildly, her lack of composure out of character. Even the word hell was unlike her.

“Look, Mrs. Miller, don’t be mad, but Ethan is Mikayla’s boyfriend. They’ve been seeing each other since the beginning of school. Kay wanted to be sure he was a keeper and not an ass before she introduced him to you. He was at the restaurant waiting for you both, but he’s on his way now, just as worried as we are. I’m going to call campus police.”

She didn’t ask any more questions about this Ethan boy as she slid down the doorframe, collapsing into herself. All she said to Jill was, “Can you call Adam?” Then the world became black.

* * *

Mikayla

The man who’d bound her was standing above her body with a smile on his face. It was odd she still found him attractive in this state, but then again, Ted Bundy was good looking too. Mikayla couldn’t shake the immediate chemistry they’d shared, but she tried her best to block it out.

Instead, he smiled at her again, a mix of the boy next door and the arrogance of one of the kids from those one-hit-wonder bands, which she hated and despised. “I want to make a deal with you.” His candidness and ease struck her as odd, as if they were chummy.

“What?” She was still groggy and couldn’t trust her understanding.

He smiled at her again kindly, and if she had to guess, he looked wounded at her tone, which then had her questioning his mental wellness. He was behaving as though they were more than captor and captive. “Well, I’ll take you back home or get you as close to home as I can, but you need to promise me you will stay here for six months. After this time with me, if you want to go back, I will get you there somehow.”

“What? Where am I?” She pushed back until her back hit the bedframe.

“We are in Canada. Actually, Alberta. Outside Calgary, to be exact.”

While rubbing the indentations from the ropes, she calculated she was a good half-day from her home in Washington State. Still itching at her wrists, she locked eyes with his dark brown ones and asked, “Why would I agree to this deal?” She was scared, but because he was charming, it somehow calmed her nerves, which rattled her more.

He grabbed her hands in his, standing directly across from her. “You’re probably weak. I need you to lie down for a while, and I’ll help you up gradually. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He paused. His tone was low and controlled and sounded like her mom’s when she was sick. Her mom always tended to every one of her needs in a way she never quite did for her siblings. Right now, she longed for that maternal touch, not this fakeness that only reminded her of the grief her mother must be feeling right this moment, even if this man could be the next Calvin Klein model.

“You bring up a good question, though,” the strange man said. “Why would you agree to this deal, to stay here for six months? I guess you don’t really have a choice in the matter, but I’ll tell you, true to my word, I will take you back if you still want to go. But again, I’m only trying to protect you. You were crying last night and were scared, remember that?”

She did understand as fragments of her memory brought back the heated conversation between her and him; a man in her life at home she should be able to trust, not one who scared the shit out of her. The subject this time was Ethan and how she’d started dating again and didn’t tell him.

Her heart beat frantically at the little parts she did remember and at the thought of this stranger wanting to keep her from her family for six months. “Why would I believe a man who drugged me and brought me here? How is that protecting me?” She didn’t have the strength to cry or scream or claw his eyes out even though she wanted to.

“True,” he said. “You got me there. I was afraid, I guess. That’s all I can really say, Mikayla.”

“Who are you?”

“Well, as I told you last night, I’m Nolan. Or at least that’s what you can call me for now.”

With beads of sweat layering her skin, she realized Nolan was not his real name. How could she believe this man who wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted? A million questions raced through her mind. She wanted to scream and punch him, then run into the day or night. Though she had no idea what day it was, let alone the time of the day. In this room with the windows boarded up, she continued to fear the man who was holding her against her will. Longing to look around for a clue, anything that would aid in her escape, only one question mattered.

“Why are you doing this to me?” She couldn’t even call him Nolan. To acknowledge the fake name would be to admit this was real, and she couldn’t do that.

“Would you believe me if I said I’m a very normal guy? I’m not sure how to answer your question, Mikayla. You were in trouble, and I felt I could help.” He seemed sincere, but then again, sincere men didn’t take innocent girls out of the country.

“Why should I believe you? There is no way in hell I’ll trust you,” she spat with anger that took hold of every part of her body.

“Fair enough, Mikayla. Just know there are reasons I want to protect you, but I’ll divulge more on that later,” he casually said, standing to take his leave.

Attractiveness aside, this man in front of her was buttering her up for the slaughter—she’d lay down her defenses, and he’d strangle her or slit her throat. It had to be his sick obsession. He probably took some sort of memento from all his victims. Visually searching the area around her body, she wondered what he would take. Would it be her long dangly earrings that clatter when she moved her head? The ring with the beautiful emerald birthstone her mom gave her when she graduated? Or the sterling silver necklace with a soccer ball her sister gave her to mark the completion of ten successful years in the sport?

She finally said, “I don’t believe you, whatever your name is, so if you are going to hurt me, do it now and put me out of my misery.”

He grabbed her hand and tried to kiss it before she yanked it away. “I would take a knife to my body before I let any harm come to you, Mikayla. I know that is hard to believe, but I want to treasure you, and after six months, if you need to go home, just know I will take you.”

“I still don’t believe you. I want to be left alone,” she begged with raw emotion cracking through her voice.

“I’ll leave you be, but I’ll be checking on you soon.” Bending over, he brought his lips so close they almost touched hers, whispering, “I did this for your own good, so the sooner you get that through your thick skull and admit you’re in trouble, the easier this will go.”

Trembling, she tried to create space between them, but he only grabbed her head, making it impossible to move. “You and I shared a connection, but you are in trouble.” Releasing her and returning to the stupid as fuck smile that lined his face earlier, he continued, “The rules are simple while you are here. You’re free to roam the house and the grounds. You will find we are in the dead of winter. You won’t get far on the hundreds of acres I own, so you will have freedom. At night will be the only time you are confined to your room. I’ll do everything to make your stay as comfortable as possible,” he stated, again with a convincing genuineness.

“If I’m stuck here for six months, do me a favor and just leave me the fuck alone. I don’t need to get to know you because I fucking hate you already.” In her mind, she’d fight him every way she could, but her voice trembled like a scared little girl who wanted her mom.

Again, he invaded her space, resting his head even with hers. “Oh, sweetness, I can’t leave you alone. You deserve better than that. I’ll see you in an hour.” He leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “I’m not going to hurt you, Mikayla. But if you could, I need you to think of a new name, probably something more Canadian. Can you do that?”

He’d taken her from her mother, and now he wanted to take her identity. “Why?” Her tone betrayed her again, and when she meant to sound like a badass fighting for her freedom, she sounded like a little girl.

“I can’t quite call you Mikayla when we start our new life together, you know. I think you look like a Colette. I’ve never had a connection with anyone like you. You’ll remember; some of it will come back to you little by little.”

“Fat fucking chance!” she screamed, turning from him.

As he touched her side, the weight of his hands should have repulsed her, but they didn’t, and that scared her more. Leaning down to whisper in her ear, he said, “But I remember how my words made your face redden and your nipples harden through your thin t-shirt. I did something to you with my words. Just think how much more my touch could do.”

As Mikayla turned toward him to kick him in the balls again, he’d already moved from her, and the same kind smile returned to his face, as if the last words he said were from an evil twin.

“Back to the name. Colette is my choice, but it’s up to you, sweetness.” He sauntered toward the door, showering her with attentive concern. “Are you sure you don’t want something to drink or eat?”

Still weak and unable to protest too much, she considered his eyes and pleaded. “Please let me go home.” It was all she wanted. Even at the ripe old age of eighteen, she still wanted her mother.

* * *

Taylor

Taylor remembered when Mikayla was taken. She was just a year her junior, finishing up her last year in high school. It was scary that this local apple pie of a girl disappeared right out from under her family’s noses.

It resonated deeply with her from the moment she found out, and though she was an everyday teen, her biggest concern was when and where her next night on the town would take her, but with the kidnapping of Mikayla Miller, her life would never be the same.

She had a boyfriend who she planned to follow to college and parents who she infuriated at times as she pushed the envelope of what she could do, just as any normal teen did.

Taylor came home that night, ate a helping of chicken potpie, and then crawled into bed, calling her boyfriend, Phillip, one last time before sleep claimed her. The topic of sex had come up in their many phone conversations, and he hinted that he’d reserved a room the night of prom. It would take her all those months to work up the courage to lose her virginity to him; even though in her seventeen-year-old mind, she loved him. Her willingness to follow him to Seattle for school almost meant an engagement in teen terms. But the next morning, her whole outlook on life would change. She just didn’t know it yet.