by D W Marshall
Miles and Pierce sweep the garden for would-be threats. When they seem content that there are none, they give us a modicum of privacy, standing near the entrance. Still close enough to hear us, but I hope they can at least pretend not to.
Like the most normal thing we have ever done, Keegan walks behind me and begins to push me in the swing. We are both silent. I don’t know why he is short of tongue, but I am because this is a defining moment in our relationship.
“What happened to you, Maeve?” Keegan asks, breaking the silence.
I use my feet to stop the swing. The motion is only making me dizzier. “I was kidnapped. They were waiting for me in my car when I was heading home from the fitness center.”
“Who, Maeve?” He walks around to face me. “Who took you?”
“I don’t know. A crazy person. He took six other girls at the same time as me. I have no idea where I was!” I begin to weep.
He takes a seat on the swing with me. “What did you do there for an entire year? Why did they release you? I mean, I am happy beyond belief that they did. I just, I don’t understand.”
“Use your imagination and I bet I did it,” I say.
He jumps up from the swing. “I am going to be sick.”
He paces.
“Are the Garda looking for this place? This psycho?” he asks.
“They are.”
I get up and pace with him.
“Are you okay, Maeve?” he asks, looking at me for the first time. “I nearly died when you were gone.”
Hearing that gives me hope that my prayers were answered, that he mourned me, but didn’t give up on me, on us. “Thoughts of you were the only thing that kept me alive,” I admit. “Keegan?” I stop pacing and face him. “Who is Gemma?”
He stops too. Almost in midstep. “Gemma. Is. My fiancée.”
The air is released from my balloon.
His fiancée.
His fiancée.
Doesn’t seem like he was missing me too much. I thought that title was mine. “I thought I was your fiancée.”
“You are, Maeve. I mean, you were. But you were gone. What if you never came back? Was I supposed to wait for you forever? Gemma helped me to get over…”
My breathing catches on an air bubble. I nearly choke on the lump in my throat. “Me? Get over me?” I finish his sentence.
He paces back and forth before stopping in front of me again. “I suffered when you went missing. I loved you so much, I was planning on living the rest of my life with you…and one day you just vanished.”
“But I’m here now.” I glance over at Miles and Pierce, and I can see that they are trying very hard to pretend they are not listening. I know for a fact that they have heard every single word. “I guess I can’t blame you for seeking comfort in another,” I say to him. “So what now? I mean, do you love her? Do you still love me?” Bold and hard questions are never easy for me, but I can’t breathe until I know that we are okay. That he is still mine.
“I love Gemma. We are to be wed in a week.”
For the second time, I throw up in my mouth a little. Did he say a week? “And, in light of my return? Will there be any changes in your life? I guess what I mean is, what about us, Keegan? Doesn’t me being here change anything, everything?”
“Listen, Maeve, not to sound like a total barse but life is about choices and I have made mine. I’m going to marry Gemma.”
“Choices?” I raise my voice. “Choices? What choice do I get, Keegan? I was snatched off the street. I was going about my business, two weeks away from marrying the man of my dreams, when someone drugged me and made me a sex slave! I nearly died in there! The only thing keeping me alive was thoughts of you! Knowing that I would be with you again!” I couldn’t stop the waterfall from coming if I wanted to. “I come home to find my life more banjanxed than ever, because you didn’t have enough faith in us to wait!” I cross my arms in protection. I let my red hair fall in a heavy curtain to block him from my view, if only for a moment.
Keegan takes me by each shoulder, squaring me to look at him. “Well thank god for that, Maeve. I’m glad I could be a beacon of strength for you while you suffered so. It’s just that I have moved on. I can’t be with someone like you now, knowing what you went through for an entire year. You are all used up now.”
My hand connects with his face before I have a chance to stop it. Twice. My guards are near me in an instant. They don’t know Keegan, and I assume they are protecting me from an equal reaction from him. He might be behaving cruelly, but I doubt he’d be cruel enough to strike me. “How dare you! Keegan, you are more than a barse. You are no gentlemen. Nothing that happened to me was my doing! And you so easily cast me away. I am a person! A person I thought you loved!”
He massages his jaw, his perfect skin reddened. “I guess I deserved that.” He sizes up Miles and Pierce. “I don’t mean to be cruel. It’s just that I am meant for greatness, and I can’t exactly have someone with your sordid past lurking in the darkness. Do you know what type of scandal that might create for me?”
I lunge for him again. This time Miles steps in between the two of us. “Miss, I promise you, he isn’t worth it.”
You know what? He is right. I wouldn’t want to be with someone who thinks so little of me.
“You know what, Keegan Flanagan? You and your future can go to hell,” I say and I walk away from the enchanted garden, and I don’t look back. I walk to the car, my shoulders back, my head held high. I make it into the car, with the high-level security window tint, and let go. I sob for everything I lost because of The Chamber. No man will ever want me because of what happened to me there. Keegan may be no gentleman, but I am no lady either. I am just a shell.
Chapter Five
Miles: Bad Guys and Beautiful Girls
What a douche. What real man kicks the woman he is supposed to love to the curb like this after all that she suffered? I should beat the shit out of him. When I got this assignment I almost turned it down. But I said yes as a favor to my dad. I had no idea what I was signing up for. A beautiful young woman kidnapped for an entire year, and just released. I’m not a fucking idiot either—no one needs to spell out to me what this poor girl’s duties were during her year of captivity. Damn.
Living in Ireland, on the property. Also not something I expected, but the accommodations are good. Pierce, Aiden and I are staying in the guest house. It has three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a full kitchen. Though I get the impression that Mrs. O’Malley likes to cook, so that too is a plus.
When I met Miss Maeve O’Malley this morning my heart broke for her. What she must have gone through. And why—because she is a beautiful girl? Sometimes beauty is a curse. One thing I have learned in the short couple of years I have done security is that I only want sons, if I have children at all. I know women are in the military and can shoot guns, and a lot of them can take care of themselves, but there are still a majority of them who can’t. If I was Mr. O’Malley, I wouldn’t just hire security for my daughter. I would make sure she was lethal.
Now look at her, weeping in a tiny ball because her douchebag of an ex-fiancé thinks that he is god’s gift to women and can treat her any way he wants. Sure, he moved on. I get that, but to be so cold and insensitive? What a fucking ass. Pierce and I heard everything that he said to Maeve and he deserved even more than the slap across his face. He deserves for me and Pierce to go back there after we drop off Miss O’Malley and teach him how to treat a lady. My blood boils, listening to her as she tries to silence her cries. I want to comfort her, but we are strangers too. The only thing I can do is my job and that is to make sure she gets safely from point A to point B. That is all. But I feel especially protective of her. Poor, beautiful girl.
Chapter Six
Maeve: Slowly Dying
I don’t wait for anyone to open my door when we return home. In fact, I don’t even wait for the sedan to stop. I crash through the front door, skipping two steps at a time to get to my room. The
re I do the only thing I can, my life spiraling out of control. The only thing I held on to for a year was a big fat lie. I sob.
I thought Keegan was my world. In my heart I believed that he could bring me back to life. If the man who is supposed to love me the most in the world doesn’t want me, then no one will. I am banjanxed.
I startle when I hear a knock on my door. “Please go away!” I shout.
Ma walks in anyway. “Honey, are you okay?” She is at my side at once.
“Keegan is getting married to Gemma in a week. Apparently I’m no longer good enough for him.”
Ma climbs into bed with me and holds me. “This is true, darling. You are not good enough for him.”
I pull away from her embrace. “What?”
She pulls me back to her. “You are better than that. Better than good enough for him. Because if he can treat you this way, he doesn’t have a good bone in his little dirtball of a body.” She squeezes me.
“Oh, Ma, this isn’t fair!” I wail. “What did I do to deserve these things happening to me? I have lost everything.”
My ma rubs my back and lets me sob. “Fate can’t be explained. Sometimes bad things happen to the best of us. We are good people, Maeve. You are a wonderful, darling girl. I will never understand why we have suffered so, but you have to be strong. We will get through this as a family.”
I nod into my ma’s chest. Tears hitch in my throat, causing my breathing to stutter.
“I will make you some tea.”
I bury myself in my covers waiting for Ma to return. My life is in shambles. Keegan was supposed to heal me. Instead, he hurt me. I will never forgive him. Not that he cares one iota about me or how I feel about him.
I pretend to be asleep when my ma returns with tea.
The next morning I pretend to be asleep when the boys jump on my bed in an attempt to wake me for the day. I made a decision that my bed is where I plan to stay, perhaps forever. My da can save a lot of money on bodyguards since I am never leaving home again.
Well, I only manage to stay in bed until about noon because my family sucks. No one checks on me, and I know why. They are waiting me out, until I get so hungry and thirsty that I can’t possibly stay in my room any longer.
A place at the table is set for me, but I don’t sit down. Instead I scoop up my plate and try in vain to make a run for it.
“Don’t even think about it, Maeve. You will eat your dinner with us. Now, sit,” my da commands.
My shoulders sag as I obey. I sink as deep into my seat as I can, hoping that I will disappear. I slide the hood to my robe over my head to hide further. I expect my da to protest, but he doesn’t. I am sure he is happy that I have made an appearance. I dig right into my stew. So delicious. Meat, potatoes, and veggies—a slice of heaven in my new personal hell. I spoon the amazing stew into my mouth and guzzle my milk like a prisoner trying to protect her food. I need to fill my belly and make it back to my room, because I can’t handle the stares that I feel on my face from everyone. “Thanks, Ma. I always loved your stew. I’m going to bed.”
They don’t stop me, but their silence is a dead giveaway that they are worried about me. I’m sure they are, but after all I suffered in The Chamber I was so certain that my life back home would be something to be happy about, to make me thankful every moment that I was home. I guess it was my stupid fault for putting all of that happiness in the hands of a man.
This is how my life goes for more than two weeks. My folks refuse to bring me even a toast point. If I want food I must make my way out of my room, down the stairs and into the kitchen. Well, fine. But I am not going to dress. Each meal I drag my depressed body with all of its aches and pains down to the kitchen, wearing a thick, fluffy pink bathrobe and matching pink slippers.
My hair I don’t bother to wash or comb. A greasy mess.
My face I only wash because the sleep that gathers in the corners of my eyes is uncomfortable.
My body I only wash because the smell becomes unbearable otherwise.
Personally, I don’t care if I ever leave the house again. Some meals Miles and Pierce join us. I only offer a nod as a greeting. This must be the easiest gig they have ever had—a depressed recluse is easy to guard, seeing how I never leave the house. Still, my folks let me wallow in my own suffering, as long as I come down for meals, and allow them to lay eyes on me.
Things change at lunch after my routine nears the three-week mark. I drag my body back up the stairs after another delicious meal. Each step feels like climbing a mountain.
About an hour later there is a knock at my door that I have no intention of answering. I can’t handle anyone telling me that I will be okay, that I will find someone else. Or worse, lying to me and telling me that I am strong. I don’t want to hear any of it, because it isn’t true. The person lets themselves into my room anyway, and I am surprised to see Saoirse and Ciara. The tears spill unchecked. These girls have been my best friends since my family moved to Ireland. Before they make it to my bed, they are in tears too. We fold into a big hug and cry collectively. I hadn’t expected to seek them out after everything that happened with Keegan, but I am happy to see them.
“Maeve, where have you been, love?” Saoirse speaks up first.
“We thought the worst. We were sick with worry,” Ciara says.
I pull the covers back and like we have so many times before we all climb into my bed. “It was the worst, I’m afraid. Me, six other girls, a lot of men, and a lot of sex,” I summarize. Their collective gasps tell me how they feel. And they are wrapping me in another loving embrace. “Then there is Keegan.”
“We heard. He is a mingin’ eejit,” Saoirse says.
“I hope he gets a fecking scorching case of knobrot,” Ciara adds.
For the first time since leaving Keegan’s I smile. A giggle escapes. “Maybe his lad will fall off. That’s what he’ll be famous for, having no lad,” I say.
The image of him missing his penis makes us all burst into laughter. I needed this.
“Then again, how can such a dick be missing his lad?” I say and we laugh even louder.
The door flies open and Ma and Da are standing in the entrance. They are smiling at the three of us.
“Thanks for calling them,” I say.
They don’t respond. Instead they close the door behind them. I am sure the sound of laughter coming from my room after so much pain is an answered prayer.
“So are you really good at getting yar oats off, then? I bet you could teach us a thing or two,” Ciara asks.
“Ciara, don’t be ridiculous. What a god-awful thing to say!” Saoirse admonishes.
I blush a few shades. I mean, Ciara isn’t wrong—I would consider myself highly skilled in the art of sex or getting my oats off, as Ciara calls it. We Irish have the most colorful slang, and my friends could teach a course on it. “Ciara is right. I mean, as awful as it sounds, I learned just about everything there is to learn about sexual pleasure,” I say.
“Was it awful?” Ciara asks.
I sit up in bed and they follow, giving me their undivided attention. “It was awful about fifty percent of the time, to be truthful. The man who runs the place is quite the genius. He threatens us so that we don’t try to escape, but then he treats us like royalty the whole time we are there. Well, minus the having sex with strangers. But that was the weird thing too. It was the same guys every time, so after a while they became less strangers. This whole thing makes me feel crazy. Why didn’t I try to escape? Why didn’t I fight back?” I process what I am saying to them because it is true. The men weren’t savage or cruel. They were nice. Kinky, but nice. But that doesn’t make it right. That makes it worse.
“What do you think would have happened to you if you tried to escape?” Saoirse asks. “I’ll tell you,” she says, not giving me a chance to respond. “You might have been hurt. Or worse, killed. You did the right thing, Maeve.”
“The other girls and I decided that if a year went by and we didn’t ge
t set free as promised, then he lied and had no intentions of letting us go, and we would try to escape.” We made that pact about a month in. “Doesn’t matter. I will never be free. According to Keegan, I am all used up. The nightmares are insufferable, and sleep is my least favorite thing.”
The look on their faces is the very look that I am coming to abhor. My ma wears it, my da wears it. And the boys, even though they are too young to even know it, they wear it. Pity.
“Well, I have just the thing for you.” Ciara says, pulling out a bottle of pills. “They are called Blank Overs. You will never have a nightmare again. Take one pill to take the edge off and you will be happy and worry-free. Take two before bed and you will sleep like the angel that you are.”
I take the proffered bottle and give it a look-see. They are definitely not from a legitimate doctor. Street pills. Could be dangerous. Then I consider who has given them to me and know in my heart that Ciara would never hurt me. Saoirse is the level-headed one and she isn’t showing any alarm in regards to the pills. I open the lid and pop a pill into my mouth. I snap the lid back into place and put the bottle in my nightstand.
“That should last you about a month or two.”
I nod. I’m not one to take pills but I have to do something before my parents have me committed for depression.
It is too soon before the girls have to leave. But not without setting a girls night in a couple of days.
The Blank Overs did their job for sure, because about half an hour after taking just one I was hopping out of bed, grabbing a quick wash-up in the shower, and heading down the stairs. I needed to get out of this house.
“Ma! Da!” I yell through the house on my way to the kitchen. I don’t see anyone so I continue to yell. “Ma! Da!”
My folks come running from the parlor, worry covering their faces. “What is it, love?” Ma says.
“Where are Miles and Pierce? I want to get out of the house,” I say.