Mikayla

Nolan still insisted on daily walks with Mikayla, and it let her scope out the land, though all she could see for miles was snow and wilderness. All the damn white terrain was driving her crazy. It was not a large leap in logic to understand she couldn’t survive long in the cold.

As if insisting on these walks wasn’t bad enough, he also probed into her life. “I want to understand you, that is all, Mikayla.”

“Understand me very clearly. For starters, I want you locked up for years for this.” It would only take a light spark to ignite her temper into a full out explosion at having her choices stripped from her. But with his mind games came the ability to take away her power to fight as she warred within herself to loathe this man.

“Seriously, sweetness, can you work with me?” His pet name for her was one of the many things that caused her so much confusion. She loved the attention, but in her mind, she tried to detest it. She’d been caught more than once admiring his body, and it was certainly firm. Every time his shirt rode up on his waist or he had a short-sleeved top on, she could see the definition of muscles that had her eyes wandering to take in more.

She acted as if she hated the term of endearment, sweetness, but after a couple of weeks, she understood it was his way to treasure her. She hadn’t felt respected or wanted in years. Well, there was Ethan, but Nolan’s affection took her to a new level altogether.

“You know the saying, if you love it set it free, if it comes back it’s yours, if it doesn’t, it never was?” she asked.

“I do, sweetness. I know where you are going with this, but when you lose something as deeply as I have, then you are afraid to lose again. It’s in that pain that people, well, me, make errors in judgment, and that is how I justify holding you against your will.”

* * *

Sleep had been a problem since she’d been at the cabin, but on one particular night, it had been harder than the rest. Having never asked Nolan how long she’d been there, she calculated it was three to four weeks in her mind.

When it was obvious she wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep, but knowing it was too early for her door to be unlocked, she started to read a book. She tried to avoid any of his gifts because accepting them would bring him too much pleasure. Looking at her options, she picked up two books, skimming over the synopsis of These Lovely Bones. It was too fucking freaky of a book to read while she was being held hostage. She then decided for a lighter read, Nights in Rodanthe. She was well into chapter six when she heard him unlock the door. He never woke her up in the morning, nor did he ever just barge into her room. Before she heard his footsteps walking away, she called out. “Nolan, I’m awake. You can come in.”

He opened the door carefully, peeking in on her. “Good morning, sweetness. What are you doing up so early?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I decided to read one of the many books you got for me. But I have a question for you.”

“What is it?” he asked, drumming one foot against the floor.

She grabbed the book she was not going to read while in his care and threw it at his head. “What the hell, Mikayla?” he yelled, and she’d never heard this tone unleashed on her. As he rubbed his head where the book had slammed into his temple, Nolan only stared at her.

Screaming, Mikayla’s voice sounded hoarse. “Look at that book. Look at the back cover and the synopsis. Why the fuck would you get that book for me?”

He read the synopsis out loud. “The Lovely Bones is the story of a family devastated by a gruesome murder—a murder recounted by the teenage victim. Upsetting, you say?” He stopped and looked at Mikayla. “Sorry, but I swear I’m not going to kill you, Mikayla. I care for you, more than I should. And even though I see the way you look at me, I realize the chances of you ever returning those feelings are slim.”

“You got that fucking straight.” Mikayla’s tone betrayed her when the words packed a punch but not in the pitch she’d meant to deliver them.

“Could we stop with the profanity? Okay, I’m a horrible person. I get that. I don’t deserve a woman as special as you. It’s why I try everything; the food, the room, the books, movies. Anything you want, I will give you because I care for you, and you deserve better than the way you are treated by those who should love you.”

“I can tell you now I don’t want any of the shit you get me. I need to go home,” she cried.

“Mikayla, you aren’t even trying.”

Standing from her bed, she yelled, “Try? Are you for fucking real? You take me away from my family, and you want me to try?”

He stood there as if he wanted to tell her something important but was chewing over his options. “Can I come sit with you for a moment?”

“It’s your house,” she retorted, not meeting him in the eyes as he still rubbed his temple. One look and she could tell she clocked him good. Part of her was pleased, but the other part was sick that his handsome face would bear a bruise.

“But it’s your room,” he replied.

In her mind, she asked, why does he have to be such a gentleman at times? Can’t he just stay in dick mode?

“I’m starving.” It was what she could say to make sure he knew she didn’t want him near her.

Standing at the doorframe, he was about to justify his actions. “Listen, the night we met, I wasn’t honest. You reminded me of someone I knew who needed saving. In your car, I watched every little grimace reflected on your beautiful face, but before that, I saw the confrontation, when he was yelling and pulling at your arms. Then, you continued to sit in your car before heading to the library. In my mind, I had vowed to protect a stranger because I couldn’t protect the woman I adored as if she were my sister. Yes, I freakishly watched you and then followed you. But this was not premeditated or rehearsed, and we were able to forge a quick bond between us. You opened up to me and told me about the person hurting you, and I let my emotions take hold of me. I am a man of science and research, but with you, I threw it out the window for what we’d shared in a brief amount of time. Two wrongs don’t make a right, but I needed to save you because I didn’t save someone who really needed help.”

“Why would I ever open up to you about the person who hurts me when I’ve never told anyone, not my best friend, my boyfriend, my sister or my mom?”

“You just answered your question, you see? It’s because I’m not close to the situation.” Pointing at the bed, he asked for permission to sit, and she nodded. Sitting with his leg crossed over his knee, he sat silently with her for a moment, then clearing his voice, he finally spoke. “Mikayla, my best friend, Evangeline, had a father who was abusive to her. The story does not have a happy ending for Evangeline. I wanted to make sure it was a happy ending for you.”

Mikayla’s eyes widened, and her green eyes grew with hatred. “And you think you can play God?”

“It’s when you have lost those closest to you that you enter a time in your life when your choices don’t make sense.”

“This is how you justify it. And how would Evangeline feel, knowing you did this? Have you thought of her?” She stood close to him, both with compassion for his pain and righteous anger for his decision to take her away from those she loved.

“Yes, every day. And she’d be happy that you wouldn’t fall victim as she had,” he said, standing and meeting her gaze, with both hands on her shoulders. “Her abuser stripped her raw, as I see in you.”

“And how is that? Bring her here, let her tell me herself,” she spit at him.

“I can’t!” he yelled.

“Why, because she wouldn’t support you?” she spat his way again.

“No, because she’s dead!” he yelled, and before she could say another word, he pulled her close to him. Sitting back on the bed with her on his lap, he swiped a piece of hair that covered her face, not taking his eyes off hers.

Her body wanted to react, but in her almost nineteen years of life, never had two emotions fought so hard against one another.

“You feel it too, sweetness. No reason to lie to yourself. You can lie to me with words, but your body betrays them.”

She turned away from him, and he gently moved her to the side. “It’s okay, Mikayla. It’s a lot to take in.” Leaning over, he dropped a kiss on her forehead, then walking to the doorway, he turned slightly and continued, “Breakfast will be ready in thirty minutes.”

With his absence, she stood in silence, then fell to the floor, and rolled into a ball, salty drops falling from her face as she sobbed uncontrollably.

* * *

Nolan didn’t acknowledge her when she sat down at the table. He stood to grab her plate he’d been keeping warm on the stove. With potholders, he placed the food down in front of her. Turning to give her a cup of coffee, he waited on her hand and foot, making sure she had all she needed and wanted. However, she didn’t want to be grateful to this man for all the things he did. It didn’t justify what he was doing by keeping her hidden.

After he gave her the coffee mug, he took his book from the table and started to exit the kitchen. He never left her, and it felt odd not to have his company even if she’d just sit there and loathe him through her meal. “You never leave?”

“Yeah, I know. I just felt you needed time by yourself, that’s all.”

“Oh, okay,” she replied.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asked, leaning down behind her, so close she felt his breath on her neck.

“I want you to make me understand all I forgot that night you took me. I barely remember you, but you know my favorite color, my love for bacon, how I appreciate fresh flowers, and my favorite shampoo.” She stopped herself from saying she did remember how ruggedly handsome he was. That would give him false hope, and this was not something she needed now. “How could I have gotten that deep with you about myself in an hour?”

“More like three hours.” He stepped aside and pulled out the chair to sit down.

Tremors coursed through her body. “I spoke with you for three hours, and I don’t remember. How is this possible?”

“The drugs I used erased your memory. I was surprised you remembered meeting me,” he explained.

“Evangeline ... did you love her?” she asked, and for the first time since coming to the farm, she wanted to alleviate his pain, and had an overwhelming desire to physically comfort him.

“Not in that way. Not in the way I feel about you. Evie, she was my best friend. When we turned sixteen, I could tell she had feelings for my brother. Lucas returned those feelings a few years later. It was weird at first for Eve because I’d always been the most important man in her life. It was a struggle with my brother, but we found a way to make it work. Her dad killed her when she was so young. My brother and I lived in a state of bleakness for years. We will never be the same.”

She reached out for his hand. “Nolan, I’m not Eve. I’m not in a bad relationship.”

“Bullshit, Mikayla. I saw the bruise on your arm where he grabbed you. He was mad that you were seeing Ethan, shaking you and demanding you break up with him. He seems to need control over women.” Nolan held her hands, pulling her closer to him.

She replaced the closeness of the touch and affection that was coursing through her body with rage because she had to be mad at him. It was the only way to suppress whatever the hell he was doing to her. “First, you know nothing about him. He’s protective and that is it. Second, you say you care for me, but I will never care for you, so please let me go. I’m sorry, but I need you to know that your delusion of this ending in a happily ever after is just not going to happen.”

For five minutes, Mikayla clung to the hope that Nolan would change his mind and let her go. He finally said, “I don’t believe for a second, Mikayla, that you feel nothing for me. I can read it throughout your body. Your face flushes when I am near; you feel an odd sense of safety with me knowing you don’t have to act as though all is right with the world. Sure, you are at odds with yourself, but it is then, on the rare occasion you don’t want to kill me or claw my eyes out, I see it all. It’s at those times when you let yourself be real and vulnerable, and fuck, it’s then that I want you to stop fighting yourself and the demons working against us.” Taking her hands in his again, he kissed both, just enough that the electricity between them was as evident as all the fucking snow on the ground. He smiled as he recognized their little connection. Then he was done; no more words needed to accompany the truth he hit her with. Standing up, he walked away, giving her the freedom and the silence she wasn’t sure she wanted.

* * *

Libby

The days following Mikayla’s disappearance were agonizing as she felt a range of emotions. Every time the phone rang and Libby reached for it, she’d hope in her mother’s heart of hearts that Mikayla would be on the other end of the line, signaling some sort of Morse Code only Libby could decipher. But the days turned into weeks. No longer were the FBI or the local police hanging on every phone call.

She never experienced physical pain as she had with the disappearance of her daughter. She had heard of this phenomenon before, and sure, raising three kids was stressful, but an emotional pain that struck to the very core felt as real as someone taking their fingernails and digging them into her skin or removing her fingers digit by digit.

Getting out of bed was more than a chore; she found it nearly impossible. If she could only just stay in bed and sleep, she wouldn’t have to think about the possibility that Mikayla would never be seen again. But when she woke up, she had to live through the agony again as her mind played catch-up to the days she hid from the world.

Mikayla had simply vanished. She’d been seen on video surveillance entering the library the night she was supposed to meet with Ethan, but she never made it to her car. It was still in the parking lot of the library, a long walk from her dorm.

* * *

Wedding plans had taken over Libby’s life, and Jenna was letting her have full access to it all. In her mind, Jenna had been accommodating because being busy meant that Libby was engaged in life, not wallowing in the loneliness of her child’s absence.

When she had consulted Jenna about the colors of the wedding, Jenna hesitated. “I’m not sure, Mom. What were you thinking?”

“It’s your wedding, dear. What are your thoughts?”

Jenna wanted to say something but hesitated a second time. “I was thinking lavender, but …”

“Lavender?” Libby asked, curious as this was an odd color for Jenna.

“I know. If you think it’s too weird, I understand. It’s just that I’m not likely to have my own sister there with me, and I thought that could be one way to incorporate Mikayla into my wedding.”

Mikayla was a purple fanatic. She wore purple, painted walls purple, made her theme song “Purple People Eater.” Everything about her screamed purple. For her seventeenth birthday, her parents wanted to get her something nice and the seats in her little bug were peeling. She couldn’t find a purple car but somehow talked her parents into upholstering her seats a deep violet. Out of all the shades out there, her favorite was lavender.

Before she could comment, Jenna said, “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, it’s a great way to honor your sister.” It was the truth, but her life revolved around Mikayla’s disappearance. The downtime Libby had to think of her daughter made her stir-crazy. Was she hurt? Was she being held against her will? Was she eating? Her child might not be with her, but that wouldn’t stop the thoughts of the ever-worrying mother.

* * *

Taylor

Taylor’s mom sat on her bed one night, pleading with Taylor to make up with Phillip. The break up, especially before prom, was a bigger blow to her mother than to herself. “You know, sweetheart. No matter what happens in life, we must pull on our big girl panties and continue. If this was me, your father, or Alyssa, you would still have to live, no matter how hard that is to hear. Yes, you feel some cosmic connection with this Mikayla girl, and it’s scary; I get that. A girl goes missing who is close to your age and resembles you to boot.”

That last statement stopped her breathing. Was her mom right? Did Mikayla look like her? She stood suddenly and grabbed some of the recent pictures scattered on her desk of Mikayla Miller. Looking at them intently, she realized her mom was right. Mikayla did favor Taylor. Was this the reason she’d been so obsessed with her case? Her breathing picked up as if she was almost hyperventilating.

“Taylor Michelle? Are you okay?” her mom asked, running a jerky hand through her hair in apprehension.

She moved Taylor back to her bed and started rubbing her back. “Take slow breaths, honey.” As her breathing stabilized, her mother continued, “That’s good. Now slow breaths, continue. That’s right.”

As she was able to breathe like a normal human, her mother laid her in bed. “Now, just rest. We will continue this discussion later.” Pulling the boring gray comforter over her body, her mother kissed her and turned out the light on the way out of Taylor’s room.