Mikayla

She didn’t know what day it was. It was funny—while in captivity, every second ran into the next and the next until Nolan would lock her in for the night. He had barely left her side if she was out of her room. The fucker, which was her own term of endearment for him, never left her periphery, and that in and of itself was messing with her resolve to hate him.

He was not joking when he told her that during the day, he didn’t worry about her escaping. They were out in the middle of nowhere, and although it was colder than a “witch’s tit,” he encouraged her to get out of the house every day and walk with him. Trying to make idle chitchat with her, he struggled to make a diamond out of coal.

Following a tough couple of weeks, she had no choice but to get cozy for the time being. Walking from her room to the kitchen, she passed him in the narrow hallway. As she gently brushed past him, his touch didn’t repulse her; it excited her. Because this scared her, she pushed her own self back against the wall to let him pass. With a cocky grin, Nolan only responded, “I don’t bite, sweetness. Though, I actually think you might like me to bite you.” Then he winked, and she wanted to slap him because his words sent shivers down her spine.

“In your dreams, you worthless piece of shit,” she refuted, and again, he only smiled. It never stopped even when the worst words spewed from her mouth. How can I make myself hate this man?

* * *

Later, in the kitchen, Nolan reached for the juice over her shoulder, but if she was to wager a guess, it was to test her. He sat down, his grin never faltering. “Mikayla, is there anything I can do to make you happier? Well, besides letting you go?” The hunger in his voice would bring her cheeks to a bright pink flush. She never denied he was attractive, but as she’d said so many times, so was Ted Bundy. It was a phrase she’d continue to say as a steadfast approach to contend with the array of emotions he stirred within her.

“You could go to hell and leave me a car to drive out of here is what you could really do, asshole.” She needed to be able to avoid the restlessness he stirred with just one slow perusal of her body. This somehow comforted her while it physically unsettled her at the same time.

He laughed. “You are certainly a spirited little thing.”

“I never claimed I was full of rainbows and unicorns, you fucking jackelope,” she raised her voice just a little, still shooting daggers at him.

This time, he didn’t laugh but looked wounded. Buttering his toast, he mentioned, “Mikayla, have you thought of a name I can call you besides your American name?”

She’d never pick one, especially that god-awful name he suggested the first day: Colette. It made her skin crawl. She was not sure whether it was the name or that the suggestion came from him. “Nope!” she said with a hiss of anger.

In his quick reply, he didn’t seem surprised. “Okay, I will make a deal with you.” When she didn’t answer, he continued to speak. “I’ll give you a break from me tomorrow, and I’ll keep myself scarce. All you have to do is reveal something private about yourself.”

“You won’t force a stupid conversation on me for a whole day or make me walk in the frozen fucking winter tundra?” she asked, almost curiously as her vocabulary had changed to include so many curse words with her time in captivity.

“Yes,” he agreed, and she wanted to smack his arrogant smirk off his face.

“Make it forty-eight hours and you have yourself a deal,” she replied.

Continuing to wear that arrogant smirk, he said, “Well, I have a negotiator on my hands. Who would have known?” This was his return banter. “Okay, you have yourself a deal, but it can’t be an artificial answer, and I will have the final word if it was deep enough. I want to understand you better, so it just can’t be something like you started your period at thirteen.”

She nodded, and they ate in silence for a while as her mind raced. He watched her as she tried to pick just the right event. Without an introduction concerning the subject matter, she began to speak. “Mom always had a hard time when we’d go back to school after a whole summer home. She loved being a mom. I guess all moms do, but my friends’ moms would say, ‘I can’t wait to get my brats back in school.’ Not my mom, she would cry. Anyway, to kick off the back-to-school season, she started this annual yes day. She spent one day with each of us, and we would choose what we did with her for the entire day, and if I wanted a milkshake for breakfast, she’d always reply, ‘yes.’ Anything went, and it was fun. Then after the individual yes days, we had a family yes day where my dad couldn’t say no to us. It was the best.” With puffy eyes, tears poured down her cheeks, and she didn’t attempt to hide them. Her voice was scratchy and she could barely ask, “Is that good enough?”

Staring so deep into her soul, he wiped those tears from her face. “Yes, that’s good, very good. Thanks for sharing with me.”

Still unable to stop the tears, she declared, “Okay, a deal is a deal. Silence from you for forty-eight hours.”

“If you need me, please come find me,” Nolan said.

“I won’t need you, that’s for sure, and I was twelve, by the way.”

Giving her a blank look, he asked, “What? You were twelve for what?”

“When I started my period, dumbass,” she said, walking away from him, in the hopes that she’d left him speechless.

* * *

Two days away from Nolan was heavenly or so she’d told herself. In that time, she’d evaluated the weirdness that had invaded her when his body was too close. She needed to get it out of her system, and since Nolan seemed true to his word, she’d taken the time to explore those feelings.

I’m just sexually frustrated. I miss Ethan. It was what she’d told herself one night when she’d woke to visions of Nolan taking her from behind. What the fuck? I’ve never, I would never!

Lying in bed, she worked her fingers under the hem of her panties. Finding the area on her clit, she took her other hand and worked two fingers inside her to her G-spot; that was normally easy for her to come when she was on her own and horny. Not that she’d been with very many men; the man who had abused her for years made sure of that. Bringing herself to a climax was never as satisfying, but it allowed her to release some pent-up frustration. She’d play with herself, thinking of Ethan, and as she did, she’d prove Nolan was nothing in her mind.

Continuing to rub the top of her clit, she remembered the last time she’d made love to Ethan. He was hot, gorgeous, and generous; not dark. He was everything bright in her world.

The more she tried, the more frustrated she became. Her mind wandered to Nolan, wondering what was under his shirt, and in ten seconds, she came. It was a mind-numbing orgasm. Coming back to reality, she cursed, understanding she was up the proverbial creek without a fucking paddle.

* * *

Libby

She couldn’t believe her ears. After only three weeks of her daughter missing, the Bellingham police had pulled Fallon Frasier from the case. “Libby, I may not be able to work it, but I will still be investigating it on my own, and if we get a small clue or lead, that is all it’ll take to re-open it.”

Her daughter was out of her reach, and the further Mikayla got from her, the further were the hopes that she’d ever return. Fallon continued, “The truth of the matter is that she has vanished into thin air and not one clue indicates foul play. In my superior’s eyes, it’s as if she voluntarily walked away from her life. I know it’s hard to hear, and I don’t believe this for one second, but I can’t go to them on a hunch. I’m so very sorry.”

She wept as if she was given the news that her baby’s body had been found, but in her eyes, this was worse. She’d never know what happened to her baby, the girl she nursed day and night for two years because she wouldn’t take a bottle. She ate a little bit of baby food, enough to appease her pediatrician but most of Mikayla’s source of nutrients for twenty-four months was Libby’s own body.

She’d do it all over again in a heartbeat; she’d never take back those nights of nursing and the endless hours she ended up in the rocking chair sleeping upright. Those hard times were what strengthened the bond between mother and daughter.

* * *

Taylor

After the authorities dropped the Mikayla Miller case, the news stations abandoned the story like yesterday’s wash. For some reason, it was still fresh in her mind, and it continued to rule her life.

With the fear, she’d also become a recluse at school. Her friends, in which for Taylor were many, had given up on trying to get her to leave the safety of her house or school itself. Where she used to go out every day at lunch with her friends, she now spent the majority of her free time in the library looking up information concerning the Miller kidnapping.

One day, when her boyfriend couldn’t find her at lunch, he sought her out and asked, “Tay, this makes no sense. I’m in competition with a missing girl for your affection. Do you know how wrong this is?”

“Phillip, I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” she replied, grabbing his hand. Even she didn’t understand the full obsession with Mikayla Miller.

She cared for Phillip, even possibly loved him and didn’t want to break up, but she wasn’t going to drop something that had become so core to her existence.

Phillip spoke with her about their plans for college in hopes she’d follow him to Seattle and the University of Washington, he told her, “Babe, they have a great journalism program.” Knowing her so well, he knew that was her dream.

She looked at him and continued, “I’ve changed my mind, and I’m going into teaching.”

“Teaching? You don’t like kids, Tay? I’m confused.” When she didn’t say anything, he pressed her, “Tay, answer me. Why would you want to teach? I mean, they make awful money, and again, you probably need to like kids. It really needs to be a passion, and I don’t see that in you.”

She looked down at her newspaper with a small story on page seven about the Miller case. He ripped the paper from her. “Let me guess, Mikayla Miller was an education major?”

She attempted to take the paper back when Phillip slammed it down before her. “This has got to stop, Taylor! Really, this is scaring me.”

That didn’t stop her, though. She hadn’t read the entire story yet, but put it down to avoid a fight with Phillip. It didn’t work because by the end of the day, Phillip had broken up with her.