Marley

Once Zayne returns, he leads me down the hall to the living room where Lyla is curled up on the couch sleeping, her favorite cartoon playing on TV.

Tears fill my eyes, clogging the back of my throat. I start to move toward the couch, my heart beating with erratic relief in my chest, but Zayne holds his arm out to stop me. “Remember what I said.”

I nod and he lowers his arm.

I move to the sofa and crouch down beside her, tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. She stirs, rubbing her tiny fists in her eyes before prying them open.

“Mama!” she exclaims when her eyes finally focus on me. She sits up and wraps her short little arms around my neck as I pull her into my lap, tears flowing down my cheeks as I hold her close.

“I’m here, baby girl. I’m here.”

“Why are you crying, Mama?” she asks, pulling back to study my face.

“I’m just so happy to see you.” I look her over, making sure she’s okay but she looks perfectly fine, completely oblivious to what’s happening. “Uncle Zayne said Daddy had to go on a trip so he brought me here to wait for you. I waited a really long time, Mommy.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.”

“Lyla, we’re going to make a trip to the toy store with Mommy, okay?” Zayne asks in a kind, gentle voice. A stark contrast to the sinister man I’ve come to know over the last hour. “Do you remember what to do?”

Lyla nods.

“Good girl.”

I stand up and reach for her hand, gripping it tight in mine. He wants to take us to a public place. I take a deep breath. I can do this. I will do what he says, and once I find my opening, we will escape.

I just hope Asher finds us first.

“You wait here. I need to talk to your mother before we go.”

Reluctantly, I release Lyla’s hand and follow Zayne into the kitchen. He reaches for Lyla’s Hello Kitty backpack on the counter then turns to face me, unzipping the bag. I see all of her tiny little Shopkins there at the bottom but that’s not what has my attention. It’s the small device attached to the side of the bag.

I look at him in question. “A little extra insurance to make sure you don’t run away. If you remove the backpack for any reason, I’ll detonate the bomb.”

A renewed sense of doom settles over me. “What do you want me to do?”

A grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he pulls a cell phone from his pocket and pulls up another video. A woman pushes her infant in a shopping cart, stopping to look at merchandise on the shelf. A few moments later, Lyla walks into view and begins talking to her. At first I don’t understand, but then a man comes into view, a man whose large build and frame look eerily similar to Zayne, and he snatches the baby, carrier and all, from the buggy. I can’t see his face, but I know it’s him. He’s long gone before the woman realizes that her baby is missing and that’s when Steven comes into view to retrieve Lyla from the frantic woman.

“Oh my God,” I cover my mouth, feeling like I might get sick.

“You getting it now?” he asks, putting his phone away.

I nod, unable to speak, wondering how many times my daughter has been forced to do this. If Steven wasn’t already dead, I would kill him myself.

Zayne holds up a small remote. “You try to run away or make one wrong move, it’s all over. Understand?”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nod. A sense of helplessness envelops me as dread sinks in my stomach.

Then he hands me a bag filled with wigs and makeup. “Go get ready.”