Owen’s heart pounded so loudly that he wondered why his mother couldn’t hear it. Apparently, she had no idea that charges were being filed against her, perhaps even at that very moment. She was taking him home, taking him to the room below. She would beat him and force him to touch her in ways that made his stomach turn…
And Mary knew that he was with her. Could she stop it from happening? Could she be his angel of mercy one more time? Or were those, too, the hopeful longings of a fool? If life had taught him anything, it was that he didn’t deserve to be saved.
“In position on the bench,” Vera commanded as she pulled the car into the garage. “You have ten minutes.”
Yet again, she walked into the house without looking back to make sure he obeyed. She knew he would. Once her back was to him, Owen squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. He was amazed that the hope of salvation had poisoned him so quickly. He’d let it worm its way into his brain, and it had already begun to weaken his defenses. He was anxious and sweating like the little boy he’d been ten years ago, as though he hadn’t spent those years learning to control his reactions and survive whatever torture she dreamed up for him.
Owen’s limbs felt heavy and his stomach hollow as he headed straight to the room below. There were long mirrors along one wall, because she liked to watch from multiple angles, but he avoided his own reflection as he shed his clothing and got into ‘position’ on the whipping bench. The room was soundproofed and windowless, so he had no way of knowing what was happening in the outside world. When his father had been away for a week on business last year, she’d forced him to sleep in a large dog crate in the room for several days. She’d fed him at odd intervals, never giving him any indication as to what time of day it might be or how long he’d been there. It had been psychological torture, his own mind being the worst possible companion in his solitude.
After waiting in position for at least five minutes longer than he’d expected, Owen heard the door at the top of the stairs open, followed by the sound of her heels clicking on each step as she descended. He didn’t listen to the words she spoke, for he knew they were nonsense. She was reminding him of which rule he’d broken, telling him why he deserved to be punished. Owen had long since stopped trying to keep track of her arbitrary rules. Nothing he’d ever done was right, was good, was enough to satisfy her. No matter what choices he might make, he would always end up right back here, naked and bent over her whipping bench.
He closed his eyes and tried to control the errant trembling of his limbs as she lifted the heavy wooden paddle.
If Vera Monroe had been just a little wiser, just a shade less arrogant, she might have managed to avoid the consequences of her actions that day. Maybe if she’d been less eager to get downstairs and more fastidious about locking the front door and arming the security system… Perhaps if she hadn’t paid an exorbitant sum to have the room below soundproofed so very well… Maybe if she’d waited until later to call and cancel Owen’s afternoon plans with the Langfords…
Perhaps if she’d been patient and opted not to pick up her son from school early, she wouldn’t have been caught red-handed at such a crucial moment.
Thanks to a diagram Owen had drawn the night before, the police knew precisely where to find the secret room and how to get inside. They could hear nothing until the door swung open, and the sounds that met their ears pushed their feet to move more quickly. In her preoccupation, Vera didn’t realize she and her son were no longer alone until they were aiming guns at her head and shouting at her to step away from the sobbing teenage boy she’d been violating.
Owen blinked through his tears, and his cries turned into sobs of relief when the policemen came into focus. His mother was being forced to lay face-down on the stone floor as two officers stood over her. One cuffed her wrists behind her back, and the other removed the apparatus from around her hips before placing it in an evidence bag. There seemed to be half a dozen more people in the room, and a couple of them seemed rooted in shock by what they’d seen. They gazed around the room in disgust and horror.
One of the female officers was quick to approach him, however, and she covered him with a blanket he didn’t recognize. She was speaking to him, but she could have been Charlie Brown’s teacher for all the sense her words made to him. They didn’t seem to be able to penetrate the haze of pain and shock in his brain.
Owen’s eyes found his mother’s, and they stared at one another for several long moments. Her face was squished against the rough floor, and her expression was one of stunned disbelief, as though she thought she might wake up from this nightmare at any moment. The officer who had cuffed her was now reading her Miranda rights, and a few of the others were attempting to come to his aid. But he couldn’t look away from her.
This was the moment he’d been dreaming of for more than ten years. It was finally over.
Chapter 7
2008
“Have you heard from Logan this week?” Nate asked his daughter as they sat down to dinner on Friday evening. “Greg said they were shipping him out for another mission, but he didn’t say where.”
“Yeah, he emailed me. He didn’t say where because he’s not allowed to tell anyone,” Lena frowned anxiously, concerned for her friend regardless of his reassurances that he would be perfectly safe.
“Oh, I see. Well, that’s not uncommon, honey. Especially in a Ranger unit.”
Lena nodded morosely and speared a bite of filet mignon on her fork. She’d only seen Logan once since the day he’d left for basic training, as he’d gone to the Ranger School immediately afterward. Since then, he’d been constantly hopping between training missions and top-secret operations, and their only real interaction had been via email. Lena knew that it was more than a lot of soldiers’ families had, but she missed her friend terribly. She didn’t feel like herself without him around.
“How’s everything else? School? Your friends?”
“What’s with the Inquisition, Dad?” Lena chuckled.
“Sorry, I just… I know I work a lot and we don’t really get to talk like we used to, but I really am interested.”
“School is school,” she shrugged. “Same as always.”
“Meaning you’re well on your way to graduating at the top of your class,” Nate surmised, his voice heavy with pride. Lena nodded, and his smile grew a shade brighter. “That’s my girl.”
Yes, it certainly is, Lena thought, feeling slightly bitter. Her grades were as perfect as they’d ever been, and she still managed to keep herself busy with extracurricular activities, which had become more important than ever now. Logan’s absence combined with Nate's heavy work schedule meant a lot loneliness and time on her own. Boredom, in her experience, tended to lead to pity parties, and she’d been doing her best to break that habit.
The bitterness had little to do with loneliness, however. She’d been pushing herself to be the daughter she felt Nate deserved since she was four years old. She’d never brought home a grade that wasn’t an A, she’d never misbehaved at home or at school, and she did everything in her power to make her father’s life easier. At some point in the last few years, however, Lena had realized that the overwhelming pressure she felt each day wasn’t only coming from within anymore. Nate had come to expect perfection, presumably because she’d never presented him with anything else. What might have been intended as well-meaning encouragement had the unfortunate effect of making her feel like an ant attempting to push a boulder up a mountain.
Earlier that year, Lena had suggested that Nate go on a few dates. She could tell that he was lonely as well, and she’d thought that perhaps a stepmother wouldn’t be such a bad thing to have. Her father had dismissed the idea, however, insisting that she was the only girl he needed in his life. While the sentiment had been sweet, it had also intensified the proverbial weight on Lena's shoulders. It had made her feel as though all of her father’s happiness was dependent on her, and she became even more determined to make him proud, by what
ever means necessary.
As they finished their dinner, Nate recalled the other topic he’d wanted to discuss with her. He held up a hand to stop her as she rose from the table and started to gather their dirty dishes.
“Just a second, Lena. There was something else I wanted to talk to you about.” She raised her eyebrows and sat back down. “I’m sure that as smart as you are, you know that the company isn’t doing so well these days…”
Lena nodded sympathetically, wondering where he was headed with this topic. It wasn’t unusual for him to discuss business matters with her, and she was somewhat surprised that she actually understood the majority of what he said in regard to GC. She was fully aware that it had been a hard year for businesses across the nation. No one liked to use the word recession, but that was what had happened. GC was not immune to the consequences of a poor economy, and she knew that Nate had been working very hard to keep his company afloat.
“Well, there are going to be some changes happening soon. We’re going to merge with a company called Phelps Manufacturing, and the owner is going to come on as CFO.”
“Wow,” she said in surprise. He nodded in agreement. Nate had always leaned more toward contracting and acquisitions rather than actual mergers, but this was the best hope they had of surviving the recession. They were a privately-owned company, but the aerospace industry had taken a hit just like everyone else.
“I know. At any rate, I thought it would make for a good learning opportunity for you. You’re sixteen now, so you can legally be on the payroll, and I think it’s time you started getting a feel for how the business is run.”
“Okay…” Lena said vaguely. “Why?”
“Because I won’t be around forever,” Nate laughed. “I’d like to retire at some point, preferably in the next ten or fifteen years. When I do, GC will be yours.”
She stared back at him in mild shock for a moment, her expression blank. Lena had never considered running GC or any other company, but her father was laughing about it as though it were a foregone conclusion. She supposed that she shouldn’t have been all that surprised, considering his constant efforts to include her in business discussions from the very beginning. He’d apparently been grooming her to take over since she’d been old enough to understand how airplanes stayed in the air. Holy shit, Lena thought distractedly, almost missing her father’s next words.
“Anyway, I was thinking a few afternoons a week and a couple of Saturdays a month to start. You can keep more regular hours when you’re on summer break, of course. We’ll start you off in PR or something and rotate you through the major departments. You’ll need to get to know how everything operates, get to know the employees, and so on.”
Has he forgotten that I’m only sixteen? Who wants to get stuck with their boss’s kid every afternoon? They’ll hate me…
“How does that sound?” Nate asked, reclaiming her attention. She hesitated, framing her response carefully.
“I don’t mind learning, but won’t I just be in the way? Slowing things down?”
“Maybe a little at first until you get a feel for the place, but you’re a fast learner, honey. I know you won’t let me down,” he grinned proudly.
Lena gazed back at him, at a complete loss for how to respond. He seemed so pleased and confident with his plans that she felt there was little else she could do but say -
“Okay.”
2008
Owen was once again watching the clock. He’d finished up early at his after-school job and hurried home to get started on an essay for his American Studies class. Now that he had completed his work, there was nothing left to distract him from the waiting. At the sound of the garage door opening, Owen looked up from his homework at the Langfords’ kitchen table, his eyes bright and eager. He knew that Sean was coming home with some sort of news for him that evening, but he wasn’t sure whether it would be positive or negative. Owen shifted anxiously in his seat as he waited for Sean to appear, and Mary smiled at him indulgently.
“Go ahead and clear your things off the table, dear. You can finish up later.”
“I’m done anyway,” he assured her. “I was just reading ahead.”
“Owen, you’ve already skipped your entire junior year. You can afford to slow down a bit,” Mary chuckled.
Before he could agree or argue, Sean walked through the door to the kitchen, laden with his briefcase, his jacket, and a stack of mail. Mary hurried forward to take a few things off his hands, and Sean’s eyes found Owen immediately. The boy held his breath until he saw a wide smile spreading across the older man’s face.
“It’s done?” Owen asked excitedly, walking toward him. Mary beamed at them both as her husband nodded.
“You are officially emancipated, and your legal name has been changed. Congratulations, Owen Langford.”
Owen was so relieved and elated that he actually hugged both of them voluntarily, taking them all by surprise. The contact was brief, but his spontaneous action brought Mary to tears, as did the smile on the sixteen-year-old’s face. He was on cloud nine for the rest of the evening, too worked up to even attempt sleep until well after midnight.
As he lay in the dark silence of his room, Owen marveled over how much his life had changed over the past year. It was almost as though he were a completely different person. Maybe I am, he thought happily. Although Edward Monroe had managed to avoid neglect charges by agreeing to terminate his parental rights and avoid all contact, there had been no such escape for Vera. Between the eyewitnesses, photographs, testimonies, and DNA evidence, the case had practically closed itself. Her attorney had convinced her to plead guilty in the hopes of avoiding a public scandal that might influence the judge toward a longer sentence. While Owen had been relieved that the incident had not made widespread headlines, he’d been no less eager to be rid of the name Monroe.
Once Vera had been incarcerated to serve the first of multiple sentences, her parental rights had been terminated as well, and Owen had once again become a ward of the state. He’d been permitted to stay with the Langfords as their foster child, but no matter how many times they had argued passionately for his adoption, he couldn’t bring himself to consent. His new therapist had told him that his low self-esteem was preventing him from being able to accept their love and had encouraged him to try and work past it, but Owen refused to change his mind.
As a means of compromise, Sean suggested emancipation. This way, at least, he would no longer be at the mercy of state officials to decide what was best for him. Owen, being Owen, automatically took this to mean that the Langfords had changed their minds about wanting him around and were looking for a way to be rid of him. Sean and Mary had corrected him immediately, assuring him that nothing about their living arrangements would need to change. In fact, they’d wanted to go one step further and change his legal surname to Langford. Along with changing schools, the new name would give him a clean break and a fresh start, they’d said.
Owen had taken a few months to consider it, torn between feeling like a charity case and wanting so badly to go along with the plan. He’d eventually realized that emancipation was perhaps the best way to become something other than a charity case. True, he would still be living with the Langfords for a few more years, but he would be there for no other reason than that they wanted him there. The offer of taking their last name was simply too tempting to pass up. And now, he thought as he smiled up at his ceiling, he would forever be known as Owen Langford.
Owen Monroe was no more.
Several Months Later
Owen sat alone at a large table in the school library with an array of college brochures and degree plans in front of him. It was his study hall period, and he’d just come from a meeting with his guidance counselor. Although he was only sixteen, he was technically a senior, and planning for his future had become his primary focus.
When he’d moved in with the Langfords last year, Owen had taken the opportunity to reinvent himself. He’d finished his sophomore y
ear at the top of his class and had tested out of eleventh grade altogether. Now in his senior year, he was taking as many AP classes as possible so that he could begin accruing college credit that would be accepted by the local state university. Owen was determined to obtain his degree and start earning real money as quickly as possible so that there would be no risk that he could ever find himself in poverty again. Depending on how many placement tests he could take, it was possible that he would graduate college before he turned twenty.
His teachers, his guidance counselors, the Langfords… everyone was pushing him toward the Ivy League, but Owen refused to even apply for schools like that. He’d reluctantly agreed to let the Langfords help him pay for college, but he wasn’t about to stick them with the bill for an Ivy League education. He knew precisely what he wanted to do with his life, and the Foster School of Business at UW Seattle would more than suffice. It was far enough from Kirkland that it wouldn’t really be practical to remain under the Langfords’ roof while still being close enough that he would still be able to see them and help them if need be. Eric was gone to Dartmouth now, and Julia kept them busy with her many extracurriculars.
The Langfords had given him so much, and Owen was determined to repay them in whatever ways he could. At the beginning of the school year, Sean had introduced him to Troy Morris, a client of his who owned a chain of auto repair shops. Troy had agreed to put Owen to work on weekends and a few afternoons a week so that he could learn the business. Owen wasn’t particularly interested in mechanics as a future career, but he’d jumped at the chance to earn some money of his own. It also appealed to his enjoyment of learning how things work, and he saw it as something he could fall back on if his grand plans didn’t work out.
What interested him most about the job was the opportunity for a firsthand look at how a business was run, and while Troy wasn’t wealthy by any means, he was definitely succeeding in his industry. Owen recognized that he could learn from him, even if it meant starting at the bottom, so to speak. It was manual labor, but he didn’t mind. He wasn’t lazy, and the hard work was a welcome distraction from the anxiety that still plagued him in spite of his therapist’s best efforts.
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