“Ahh … maybe later but not now.”
He nods. “I get it. You’re scared. But it will get better,” he says with a genuine look in his eyes. “I promise.”
His warm hand on my shoulder and carefree expression make the world seem simple, as though everything could be solved with a gentle smile. If only everyone was like him, maybe it could.
Chapter 8
Charlotte
A few weeks have passed since my brother was in the hospital. I regretted ever calling him the moment the call ended. It was a trap, and I fell for it like a fool. I should’ve ignored it, but I didn’t because I care too much about my family. Always have. Easton was right. It’s the only weakness I have and will probably be my downfall too.
And now Deion knows too. Honestly, I’m surprised he let me stay. Anyone should be afraid of people who have the power and means to buy other people as pets.
Still, my story didn’t faze him.
I admire his resilience. He’s so much more positive than I am.
Ever since that day, I’ve held back and kept to myself. I don’t go out much. I stay inside the home and clean up where I can by doing dishes, laundry, dusting, whatever I can to pitch in my share of the work. I can’t bring in any money, but I can do this.
I wish I could get a job, but the more time I spend outside, the scarier it gets. What if my father or Easton find me? I have a much better chance of staying free if I remain here. Not to mention the fact that I still can’t speak the language. Though, Ashanti has been teaching me words, like appeltaart, which is an apple pie, and slapen, which is sleeping. Some basic words but not many. Nothing that would do me any good in real life anyway.
I don’t mind, though, because I’m enjoying life here in this tiny house. It’s comfy and a real place I can call home. Whenever Deion and Ashanti come home, they light up the place with their stories and conversations, and I can’t get enough of listening to them.
It’s like I get to live in a bubble. One that could burst at any moment, and then we’d drown in the pits of the ocean filled with sharks looking for new flesh to sink their teeth into.
A bubble … just like any other prison.
Nothing has changed because I’m not free. I never have been. Not even as I sweep the floors of this house out of my own free will. A free person could step out of their home whenever they wanted. I can’t.
Or can I? Would they really be able to find me?
It’s been quiet these past few weeks. Even though I used Deion’s phone, no one came to this house to look for me. Maybe they didn’t trace the number. Maybe it was all in my head, and my father really did want me to tell him myself. Maybe I told myself he could do all those crazy things because I’m scared … scared of truly living like a free woman. But freedom is meant to be scary. Freedom is meant to be seized.
That’s it. I’m not hiding in here any longer. I grab the coat Deion bought for me and put it on. Right as I open the door, his mere figure in the doorway makes me jump.
“Jesus, you scared me,” I say, my heart racing. He’s back from work soon.
“Sorry. Wait … were you going somewhere?” he asks.
“I, uh …” I didn’t expect to bump into anyone while on the way out, let alone Deion. He won’t be angry, will he?
“Was thinking of going out, maybe?” I say, my voice soft and crackly.
His eyes light up. “Want to come with me to pick Ashanti up from school?”
Whoa. I didn’t expect him to be this enthusiastic. As though he’s looking forward to bringing me along for the ride. He never truly gets angry, no matter what I say, and I admire that.
“We’ll drop by the store too after, if that’s okay with you,” he says.
“Of course,” I reply.
“C’mon, let’s go,” he says with a wink, and I tag along behind him.
We go to Ashanti’s school on his bike. I hitch a ride on the back while he drives. I wouldn’t know how to steer one of these anyway, not that he has a spare. Everybody rides these things here, and to be fair, it’s kinda fun too. With the wind flowing through my hair, I’m as free as a bird, and I let go of him for a moment to raise my hands in the sky.
“What are you doing?” he says, laughing as he glances over his shoulder.
“Enjoying the weather,” I say, but it’s so much more than that.
It’s these tall houses all crammed next to each other on either side of a narrow street, separated by a myriad of channels filled with water and cute trees along the way. Shops are selling all kinds of things, and tourists everywhere among the people who live here. It’s a cute town in a bustling city size, and honestly, I’m falling more and more in love with it.
We drive toward the school where all the families, mostly moms, wait to pick up their kids. Ashanti comes running out by the time we’ve stopped biking, and she immediately hugs her dad.
“Kijk!” she squeals, holding up a paper crown. “Heb ik gemaakt.”
“Wat mooi!” Deion tells her.
From what I can understand, she says she made it in class, and Deion says it looks good. My Dutch is coming along nicely now that I’m being semi-tutored by a little girl … and Deion, of course.
“Ga je fiets maar halen,” Deion tells her. With a proud smirk on her face, she runs off and comes back with her bike. “Kun je me thuis alles verder vertellen.”
She’s so happy he wants to know more about her day at school. He’s a great dad.
On the way back, we drop by a bakery to pick up some bread, then stop at a groenteboer, which is basically a tiny pop-up shop filled with veggies and fruits.
“If you want something, just grab it,” Deion says to me. “I’ll pay, don’t worry.”
I hesitate as I grab a plastic bag and look around.
“Go on. It’s fine,” he says, encouraging me.
I pick up some dates and a big grapefruit, as well as a juicy watermelon. Can’t forget the cranberries either. My plastic bag is filled to the brim when I bring it to the cashier and place it down on the counter. As Deion pays, I look around the shop to see what else they have.
That’s when I notice the man in a suit sitting in a car across the street … and he’s looking straight at me. Something flashes, and a bright light blocks the view from the car.
A sudden hand on my shoulder makes me jump.
“What’s up?” Deion asks, holding a bag filled with groceries.
“Uh …” I glance out the window, and the car is gone. Vanished as if it was never there in the first place. But I know what I saw was real.
“Are you okay?” Deion asks, lowering his head.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, clearing my throat and adding a smile. “Let’s go home.”
He pushes a bag of groceries into my hand. “You can carry these while I do the biking.”
The way home is one long blur. I don’t remember which route he took or how long it takes. All I can think about is that man staring at me from the other side of the street. That flash … Did he take a picture of me with his phone?
A shiver rolls up my spine.
What if it was my father’s henchman, someone to spot me and follow me?
Did I give my position away?
By the time we’re home, I’m sick to my stomach. I help Deion put away the groceries, but when they grab a packet of chocolate chip cookies from the cabinet, I leave the kitchen.
“What’s wrong? Don’t like chocolate?” Ashanti asks me.
“Ahh … I’m feeling a little bit sick, that’s all. I think I’m gonna go lie down for a while.”
Deion looks concerned but doesn’t question me. “I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”
“Thanks,” I say, and I go upstairs and up into the attic.
I lie down on the bed and stare at the ceiling while hugging a pillow. If what I saw was real—if someone’s following me—then going outside was the dumbest thing I could ever do. Because now they know where I live. And that I’m not alone.
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* * *
Several more days pass, but nothing happens, and nothing’s changed. Maybe I was being paranoid. Maybe that man took a picture of the shops instead of me. There are many tourists, after all, and the shops in this city are a sight to behold.
Even though I’m still wary, I never stopped going outside.
How could I when I already tasted the freedom? I tried to stay inside, but my desire to live my life outweighed the fear of being caught. If they were following me, why would they wait so long to capture me anyway? It doesn’t make any sense, so I’d rather not linger on it too long, or else I’ll lose my mind. I just wanna be left alone so I can live.
Which is why I’m outside. Tending to Deion’s garden, I’m raking up the soil so it’s less harsh on the flowers and bushes. He’s got a lot of wild plants in his garden too, but I’ll clean it up. Back at my apartment, I used to have a few potted plants I could take care of, but there was never enough room for anything more. But here … I could do loads of things to this garden to spice it up.
I pluck some weeds out of the ground and throw them in a bucket. That’s when a car drives by at a snail’s pace, and a man wearing sunglasses and a black suit stares at me from a rolled-down window. In an instant, our eyes connect, and I’m frozen to the ground. I don’t recognize him, but the look in his eyes predicts no good.
When he drives off, I’m left with shaky fingers and a palpitating heart. I pick up the bucket and go inside, slamming the door shut behind me. It hasn’t happened in days, yet the moment it does, I’m tilted off my axis. Why does this keep happening? Someone must be watching me. There’s no other explanation, but it doesn’t make any sense either. Who would drive by and gawk while doing nothing? If they want me, shouldn’t they come and get me?
I don’t understand any of this, but I do need to cool off, so I grab a glass and fill it with water, chugging it down in one go. As I set the glass down, my hand brushes past a stack of papers, and one of them falls out and drops to the floor. I pick it up, but my hands won’t stop shaking.
It’s one of Ashanti’s many drawings, but this one stands out among all the others.
She drew herself with vibrant, curly hair and all of her classmates are there too, playing on the school yard surrounded by a fence. But outside that fence, she drew a picture of a man in a black suit with sunglasses on.
It’s him. The man who’s been watching me has been watching her too all along.
My eyes widen.
No.
It can’t be.
They wouldn’t, would they?
Fuck. I can’t let it happen.
I immediately grab my coat and run outside to steal Deion’s bike. I’ve only learned how to ride this thing yesterday, but I hope I can get there in time … Before they take her too.
I ride as fast as I can, as fast as my legs will take me, through rough wind and big crowds, smashing the bell as often as I can in the hopes that they’ll let me pass. It’s almost time for the kids to leave the school, and Deion asked me to pick her up today. God, I hope I can get there in time.
The moment I arrive, I jump off my bike. Many kids are on the playground, but none of them look like Ashanti.
Where is she? Oh God, please let me find her, please.
I look for her everywhere, in the school yard, the bike stand area, and even the back entrance.
A sudden scream makes me turn my head and jump back on the bike.
“Ashanti! I’m coming!” I yell, biking as fast as I can toward the sound, across a narrow path through a tiny forest of trees until a street appears on the other side.
Where I watch as Ashanti is dragged into a van.
No!
The door slams shut. By the time I get there, the van’s driving off at a high speed.
I ride so fast, a car swerves so it doesn’t hit me, and the driver hits the horn. I almost got hit by upcoming traffic, but it doesn’t even faze me as I try to chase them through the streets.
But no matter how hard I bike, the van eventually disappears from my view, and I’m left with a gaping hole in my guilt-ridden heart.
This little girl was kidnapped because of me …
Because I didn’t trust my own judgment.
Because I couldn’t see the warning signs.
Because I failed to see they could use my love for this little girl and her father against me.
And now I have to tell Deion too.
Chapter 9
Charlotte
How do you tell a man his prized possession is gone? How do you tell a father his loving daughter has been taken?
It’s an impossible task, and one I’m facing right now as I trudge back toward Deion’s house with the bike in my hand. I couldn’t ride the bike, even if I wanted to. My body refuses to listen to my commands, and I keep falling down when I try. The only way back home was on foot. A fitting punishment for the girl who should’ve known this was going to happen. Who could’ve stopped it in time but didn’t because she was foolish enough to believe they wouldn’t come for her. That girl who valued her freedom more than the safety of others.
That girl … me … learned the hard way.
I have to be the one to tell Deion. But how?
And what can I do to get her back?
When the door to his house looms in front of me, my heart sinks into my shoes. I park the bike in the shed and walk up to the door. It opens before I can even ring the bell or knock.
Deion’s distressed face creates a pit in my stomach.
“I saw you coming through the kitchen window. Where’s Ashanti? I thought you were going to pick her up? It took you so long to get here,” he says in one string.
“I …” My head drops between my shoulders. I don’t even know where to begin. “She’s not here.”
“Where is she? Is she still walking?” He steps out of the house and looks around for her as if she’ll be here any moment now and is just lagging behind. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“They took her,” I say.
“What?” He frowns and makes a face. “What are you talking about?”
“Someone pulled her into a van.” No words have ever been more difficult to say than these.
The pain cutting into him shows on his face as he stares at me in disbelief. “No.” He shakes his head and barges ahead of me, storming through the streets, calling her name.
“Ashanti? Ashanti!” he yells. “Kom tevoorschijn! Nu!”
He’s telling her to come out now, but it’s no use.
“She’s not here,” I say as I stay behind in his tiny front yard.
“No, she is. You’re just playing me now,” he says. “This isn’t something to joke about, Charlotte.”
“I’m not. I saw it with my own eyes,” I say, trying to keep the tears at bay. “They took her.”
He keeps shaking his head as he searches for her. “Ashanti!”
“I tried following the van, but I wasn’t fast enough.” I can’t bear to look him directly in the eyes. “I’m sorry.”
He brings his hands to his head and pulls his hair as he looks around for any sign of her, but it’s futile, and he knows it. I would never leave her out on the street by herself. I promised I’d pick her up, and I always keep my promises … which is why it hurts so much that I couldn’t this time. But the worst thing about all of this is knowing that little girl is in some bad man’s clutches without anyone there to tell her it’s okay.
“Ashanti!” Deion yells. Neighbors and people biking past us look at him as if he’s lost his mind. I don’t know what to do. He keeps yelling and yelling until his voice is hoarse, until he’s looked under every car, behind every dumpster, and literally anything else he can find until there’s nothing left to look under or behind.
Until he sinks to the ground in the middle of the street, crying out her name.
I trudge toward him and place a hand on his shoulder, but he swats me away.
He gets up from the ground, and gr
owls, “This is your fault. You did this.”
I take his words without a reply. He’s right. It is my fault, and I deserve every ounce of his rage.
“She’s gone because of you!” he yells, tears welling up in his eyes. “My little girl … taken … because they wanted you.”
The pain in his eyes is too much to bear, but I bear it anyway because I must. The consequences of my actions are mine and mine alone. I wish I could relinquish him of the pain, take the burden of emotions upon me and carry them on my shoulders. But that’s impossible, and we both know it. I would rip out my own heart and hand it to him on a platter if I could, if it meant she’d come back. But I can’t, and he knows that too.
After a few seconds of silence, he barges past me and marches into his house, leaving the door wide open. I wait a few minutes before following him inside. I clutch the doorjamb and tilt my head when I spot him. He’s sitting bent over on a chair in the kitchen, clutching his face in his hands. Tiny droplets tumble from his cheeks onto the floor.
I amble toward him and go down to my knees in front of him. I carefully wrap my arms around him and pull him into my embrace. He sobs into my shoulders but doesn’t push me away. Instead, he lets me console him. He lets me take over the load he cannot carry.
I’m here, and I’m not going to let him go, no matter what. I’ll take this pain and more, anything and everything he throws my way. I can handle it because he needs me to. Because it’s all I can do right now as he comes to terms with the fact that his little girl is gone.
After a while, he leans away and looks at me, staring into the depths of my soul with his tear-filled eyes. They hurt to look at, but I refuse to look away. “She’s gone … isn’t she?”
I nod, crying too. “I’m sorry.”
He sucks on his lips and fiddles with a paper lying on the table. “I didn’t want to believe it was true when I saw you come back home on your own.”
A Debt Repaid Page 6