Mikayla

Nolan might be psychotic in Mikayla’s mind, but he was a hell of a doctor. Really, his bedside manners were impeccable. His care for her and loving nature were always present even as she cursed him most of the time. He never hid his infatuation, so why start now?

After a couple of days on the medicine, her throat didn’t feel like it was on fire every time she swallowed. Nolan gave her time alone, not pushing his agenda of a new Mikayla with a new name. During the time she’d been in her room, she realized she didn’t want a reprieve from Nolan. Yet she couldn’t let him know this.

On the second day, when the fever was at its worst, he sat near her body with a wastebasket, making sure she had a place to puke without having to leave the bed. To get the fever down, he kept a lukewarm washcloth against her forehead. When she’d complained it was too hot, his doctor mumbo-jumbo only infuriated her, but he remained by her side, regardless.

In the hours he let her be, Mikayla felt as if she were looking in on her own life from a waking position, not fully understanding her desire to forgive this man from yanking her from her home. Certainly, these feelings too were as misguided as his intentions to help, yet in the past two to three days, she’d waited for him to unlock the door, then called for him. She must be both delirious and just plain lonely, though she did mean what she said. She’d go back home if he released her now and never mention his name.

On the fourth morning of her sickness, the latch unlocked, and she called out his name as she had the past few mornings. When Nolan smiled at her, it was right then that something inside her caught in her throat. How could she like a man who smiled so damn much? He was like the Joker off Batman with the wide smile, though he didn’t look as creepy as Jack Nicholson. She could never deny that he was downright hot. And maybe the death of Evangeline could cause someone to lunacy. However, he didn’t seem like a lunatic.

“Morning, sweetness. How is my favorite patient this morning?” His deep brown eyes a stark contrast to his light blond hair, but that seemed to fit Nolan too. His whole demeanor and temperament, a doctor kidnapping a girl, was also in constant battle. So the dark features of his eyes and the lightness of his hair were just Nolan.

“I’m better, amazingly better, just like you told me I would be.”

“Good, let me look in your mouth,” he ordered as she opened wide. “Still pretty chalky in there but it looks better. How about some of that yogurt?” He leaned over, and when the bottom of his shirt lifted more than it normally did, she saw an outline of something on his side, wrapping around to his back.

“I can try,” she replied to his comment but then lifted the shirt a bit more, looking at his back. “Well, Dr. Nolan, you keep surprising me.” Her voice betrayed her with the tone, and if she had to guess, it sounded like she was flirting, but surely, she’d not stooped this low.

“If you want me to take my shirt off, all you have to do is ask,” he teased, echoing Mikayla’s same flirtatious tone. Her cheeks immediately reddened, but he continued, “It’s just a tattoo. I have a couple.”

“Tattoos, really? You are not cut from the same cloth as most doctors.”

“Never claimed to be,” he said, almost a little too stern but returned a smile.

Mikayla’s eyes roamed over the tribal tattoo that sat a couple inches above his belt line on his back but was afraid to ask about it. She wasn’t sure her heart could take it if he were to reveal more to her. Before he walked out, she called after him. “Hey, has anyone told you that you smile way too much?”

“No, but I’ve been told it’s hot.” In his statement, she had to agree.

* * *

“You seem better,” Nolan said with a little bit of a frown on his face when she entered the small but intimate old farm kitchen the next day.

“Yeah, what is wrong with you, and where is that annoying smile of yours?”

He turned away and huffed a bit in frustration. “Even the happiest of people have a bad day from time to time.”

His candor amused her. “Oh, good to know Dr. Freaking Seuss is having a bad day.”

“Glad I can be your entertainment, Mikayla. I’m surely your punching bag.” Then he slammed down her eggs and coffee in front of her.

“I didn’t ask to be kidnapped against my will and dumped here by a psycho doctor.” She looked at her plate and snorted. “And where is my bacon?”

“We ran out, princess. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take a break from you for a second in the den.” She knew he wouldn’t go far. He always had a line of sight on her in the main part of the house when she was not in her room.

“If you are that tired of me, you can just take me home,” she called over the half wall that led to the den.

“Yeah, you are a pain in the fucking ass at times. I wish I could. Believe me. You aren’t grateful for what I’m trying to do. Do you not get that he may kill you? Do you want to be a victim your whole life? You sure like acting like a spoiled bitch,” he said. Changing directions, he slammed the door to the back deck, keeping her in his line of sight.

She took her coffee mug and threw it at the back door, shattering it in hundreds of pieces. She sat there with her head in her hands, sobbing. Being away from the abuse gave her clarity.

With the loud crash, he hurried back inside. Ignoring the mess, he studied her. She had been quite comfortable in the toasty warm house with tight yoga pants and a snug sweater, since her wardrobe consisted of clothes he’d bring her from time to time. His eyes stopped on her chest, with the low-cut V-neck sweater accenting her perky breasts. Raising his eyes a touch, he grabbed the trashcan, giving it to her. “Do you feel better? Did that release all the built-up sexual frustration we both have toward one another?”

She raised her hand as she stood, and he caught it, bringing her close to his body. “I can teach you how to put those hands to better use,” he whispered into her ear. “I mean, I’m a very good teacher.” Leaning back, he only smiled when he released her. “But for now, since you want to act like a fucking four-year-old slinging shit all over, then go ahead and clean up this mess.” He spun her around, and before she knew it, he was gone, leaving her breathless.

* * *

After a very quiet dinner where Mikayla and Nolan barely spoke, she’d found a blanket and snuggled up on the couch in the den. With her knees tucked close to her chest, she stared at the snow that seemed as if it would cover the earth for the entire year. In her own world, she was dozing off here and there, as she’d still been recovering from her illness. Hearing a loud clank on the ottoman, she yanked her head back and saw he’d thrown a deck of cards on it. “What the hell, Nolan? After your little tantrum, I need a break from you.”

“We’ve had a break all day, sweetness, and I want to play a game.” His hot and cold personality was more than she’d be able to take in the upcoming months.

“By all means, Nolan wants to play a game, so let me hop up right now and be at your fucking beck and call! Do you always get your way?” Mikayla had shed the blanket and was standing toe-to-toe with Nolan.

Grabbing the cards and placing them in her hands, he replied, “You’re here, I took what I wanted, so you answer that question.” Nolan tipped her chin back a little harsh, the tips of his lips formed into that arrogant smile she wanted to slap off of him. His words and actions caused her stomach to clench in a pre-orgasm kind of way. He pulled away harshly then sat down across from Mikayla as she started to shuffle. “Wow, you are really good at that; you could be a Las Vegas dealer.”

Flipping him off, as he was obviously teasing at all the cards that were being tossed by her butterfingers, she gave him the deck to cut. “What are we playing, asshole?” She always insulted him whenever the emotions he stirred in her were winning against her hatred.

“War but it’s modified a bit. For each win, the winner asks the loser a question they have to answer.”

Mikayla raised her brow. “Anything?”

“Within reason, my little sweetness. But no questions I ask are off-limits to you.”

She was tempted to toss her water at him as she spat, “You really are a dick.”

Setting the deck down and giving her half of it, he replied, “Yes, sometimes, but most of the time, I’m gentle and sweet, and I can do things to you if you’d only allow me.”

Her body betrayed her, and she sensed her nipples harden against the flimsy bra she wore. Nolan was obvious in that he saw the change in her body and winked her way.

Placing down her card, Mikayla watched as he set his down and then she said, “I win.” Tapping her finger against her chin, she teased him, “Um … what to ask you—I know! Is Nolan your real name?”

“No.”

“Are you going to tell me your real name?”

With his lips turned up, he winked and replied, “This will be a free answer, and that’s a no.”

With the next set of cards, she set down a six, and he set down a seven. “My turn, sweetness. Hmm, are you a virgin?”

Quickly, she responded, “No.”

Next turn, she set down a two, and he set down a nine. “I win again. How many men have you slept with?”

“Two.” Before he could respond, she placed down a five, and he placed a queen.

“Fuck!” Mikayla exclaimed.

“Only if you are lucky!” Before she could reply, he took a swig of his beer, and it was odd to see him drinking. He never had, not since they’d been here together. “How easy is it to make you come, I mean, the idea of you having an orgasm is well, I don’t have the words?” A moan escaped from his mouth and in this sound, her panties became a wet mess.

She laughed. “I’m not answering that, and are you drunk?”

“Nope, just one beer, that’s it. And you have to answer the question.”

“Let’s just say, my partner works hard but also gets rewarded.” She had planned to elicit as much pain as she could with him; if he was going to give it, she’d give it back as painfully. Mikayla put down a king, and Nolan put down a ten. “Finally. Now, how did you come upon me that night when you kidnapped me?”

“Would you believe fate?” Nolan asked, and with a shake of Mikayla’s head, he continued, “It’s pretty much the truth.” His tone was low and controlled. “I was coming back from Seattle where I had met my brother for our annual celebration of Mom and Dad’s life. It was their wedding anniversary, and my brother and I spend it together.” Her accelerated heart beat had to be evident by what he’d disclosed. With a gentle finger, he touched her lips, and his gaze lingered on Mikayla, magnifying his tenderness for her as he continued. Moving the touch of his hand down her arm, he continued, “My brother was in Seattle on business, and I always enjoyed the drive. I happened off the highway and got a bit turned around. I was tired, and as much as I am not a coffee drinker, I needed it to stay awake. When I came across a place, I heard shouting and followed it until I saw the exchange between you two, and you know the rest.” His revelation brought a little bit more of the puzzle she was trying to piece together bit by bit to understand the man sitting in front of her better.

Unable to say anything, her mind stalled. Was it fate, as he’d claimed? Breaking his touch when she leaned back, she simply continued the game. Pulling a five when he flipped over a four, she was all smiles. “How are you a doctor yet you can be here for six months?”

“Long story short, my parents left us a nest egg and when I saw you for the first time, knowing you needed help, I was in between positions. I realized then that I’d be using it on helping you.” Again, his hand tried to connect with her but this time, she didn’t pull her arm away.

Lacking the words that could express herself, she only stared at him. His revelation knocked the air out of her; she wasn’t sure how to proceed. “It’s okay, sweetness, I told you I cared for you.”

Again, she took a card, still unable to speak. Having the highest card again, she continued with her own questions. “How many women have you been with?” she asked without flinching.

He leaned forward, and she could smell the beer on his breath. “Ten.”

“Really? You are a male whore then?”

“Hardly. I’m eight years older than you. I loved two women, and then the others were just hookups.”

She didn’t stop with the questions. “How many of those did you kidnap?”

Nolan grabbed her wrists, bringing her focus to his eyes as his lips turned to the cocky smirk that made her insides melt. “One question at a time, my little sweetness.”

“I’m not yours, Nolan.”

“I think you want to be, though.” He brought his body close to Mikayla. “This is not a fuck to me, sweetness. I care for you, and if I had to guess, I’d say you are wet and want me to push my large cock inside you.” Tipping her chin to watch her eyes darting away from his gaze, he continued, “And that was not a question.”

Throwing the cards at him, she stood. “We are done. I’m going to bed.”

“Want company?”

Leaving him without the answer, she went to her room because she felt as if her whole body would succumb to him if she stayed near him. She couldn’t figure him out; he was the sweetest gentleman at times, but then he was a crude sexual predator at other times. Mikayla wanted both men, both the sweet and crude man who lived in Nolan. “What am I doing?” she asked, envisioning what it would be like for Nolan to stake his claim on her.

* * *

Taylor

Taylor shared a love-hate relationship with Alyssa. She loved her, but there was not one person in this world she wanted to strangle more than her little sister at this point. “Alyssa, we’ve got to go.”

Alyssa, the forever free spirit, jumped in Taylor’s Honda Accord and adjusted her seat. “You are such a freak of nature, Taylor. You can’t even be on time for things; we have to be thirty minutes early. You watch the news as if you are running for the next election.”

She understood the distinctions that made her unique among her peers. “Hey, that reminds me, Dad said you took the morning paper. Did Garfield run a double feature today?” Taylor joked at her sister’s shallowness.

Alyssa looked out the window, ignoring her sister’s snide comment. “Alyssa, why did you take it?” She knew her look that screamed she was hiding something from her. “Alyssa,” she said with a little more force.

“I thought one day away from the paper might do you some good.” After her binge a couple of nights ago and the fact that Taylor was in trouble for the first time in her life, Alyssa had been acting almost protective around her older sister.

“What did you see I needed to avoid?” Taylor asked. Her voice was a bit more pleasant, understanding her mom’s old adage of You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.

“They now are speculating the Miller girl either went voluntarily or she was murdered. Neither sits well with her folks, as you can imagine.”

“I guess not, but you didn’t have to hide that from me.”

Alyssa touched her sister’s hand and by both their responses, the tenderness shocked both Alyssa and Taylor. “Yes, I did. Your level of obsession has doubled over the past two months. I don’t understand why this case, concerning a stranger, is so important.”

Taylor sat silent, unwilling to justify something she couldn’t quite explain herself.

* * *

Libby

She had begun helping with her neighbor’s little girl twice a week. The idea of taking care of another baby would normally have Libby giddy with excitement, though the reason for the need was sad. When Mark’s wife went in for the birth of her first baby, no one predicted that she’d die during labor. It left Mark Norman wounded beyond words. Yet he still had a little one to take care of. Delaney Norman was now a chubby eight-month-old who needed the love of a mom, even if it wasn’t her own.

When Libby met the other Mrs. Norman, Mark’s mother, while checking the mail one day with little Delaney, she was surprised when she asked if she would be willing to nanny two times a week. Mark’s mom only watched the baby one day a week, and the other grandma could watch Delaney twice, but it left a lag in her care, and no one wanted little Delaney in a daycare. The older Mrs. Norman had no idea of the tragedy in Libby’s life.

Later that night, Mark Norman came over and apologized for his mother’s careless words. “You know, Mark, I was giving it some thought. Let me think it over a bit longer, but I may just need to have something to occupy my time and your sweet little girl would be perfect.”

He was appreciative and said he would wait two weeks before advertising for a nanny.

After a couple of days and countless talks with Adam, she concluded she could keep Delaney two days a week. Adam had said, “I’m surprised he’d still want you to watch the little girl.”

“Why would you say that?”

“It’s just that I’m not sure I would want a woman who’s had such sadness in her life watching our kids, if that was Jenna or Blake.” He didn’t say Mikayla as if she no longer was part of the family, or maybe it was too painful.

“It may just be the reason he wants me. Maybe two people who have experienced so much pain would do well for one another.”

* * *

In the absence of Mikayla, Libby tried to come up with ways to just shut off her brain. Everything in the house reminded her of the little piece of her heart that was now missing, and she often wondered how it could still beat. She’d pass that dent in the wall, the one she always pestered Adam about, yet now, she was glad it was there. When Mikayla was just thirteen, she’d tossed Jenna’s curling iron at her one day when Jenna complained Mikayla always used her stuff without permission. Mikayla wasn’t being mean, just giving it to her, but had forgotten the curler was hot. The second Jenna grabbed it, she screamed, causing a high-pitch sound that only dogs could hear. It slammed against the wall, and the dent was still obvious. Small memories like this made life almost bearable even though it tore her heart apart at the same time.

She’d walk past the pink and purple of Mikayla’s room daily, and whereas Adam felt the door needed to remain shut, she decided she needed that reminder of all the times she’d walk past her room and hear *NSYNC and Britney Spears blaring from her speakers.

Her closet still boasted many clothes that she couldn’t take to the dorm with her along with the many shoes that were still in their respective boxes. She spoiled Mikayla, that much she was aware of, but she loved the idea that she was able to. What she wouldn’t give to take her out on a shopping spree right now.

These were those little bits that made up her daughter. Sometimes, it hurt like hell, and other times, it was a comfort within the storm she was barely surviving.