Naomi gripped the door handle to steady herself.
More mumbles. Every muscle in Jesse’s back tightened as he hissed, “Damn it,” and glanced behind his shoulder. She backed away, catching a glimpse of the man outside the door. Dark hair to his shoulders. Intense, light-colored eyes.
Turning on his phone, Jesse started whispering to the man. Naomi backed away until she couldn’t see him anymore. For a terrifying moment, her world turned ice-cold as she wondered if this was the rest of her life.
When she reached the bed, she sat on the edge as her last thread to everyone she had ever cared about twisted tighter and tighter, snapping until one fiber remained, and no matter how hard she tried, she wasn’t sure it would hold. Jesse was all she had left. Her mother would kill her if she ever tried to go back. It would be exactly like when she had returned home from the kidnapping. Constant awkwardness. Fights. So much therapy and so many reporters wanting stories. She couldn’t do it again. She looked around the bedroom at what her life had become—at her phone Jesse had rendered practically useless, at the slinky black dress hanging in the closet, at the stack of Jesse’s favorite novels he liked to read to her, at the dozens of drawings she had created of places she had visited—and she asked herself who she was and what she wanted. She knew what Jesse wanted. She knew what her parents wanted. She knew what Finn wanted. Okay, maybe she wasn’t sure what Finn wanted. But what about herself? The scariest thing, she realized, was that maybe it wasn’t about her at all.
She looked up when Jesse returned to the bedroom, his face red from frustration or anger, she couldn’t tell. “We have to leave,” he muttered.
“Leave? You mean the apartment?” She straightened.
Jesse’s jaw flexed. “Yes. It was the texts and phone calls to and from your phone. The feds are already attempting to track it all. This is why I didn’t want you to have a phone, but I didn’t think they’d catch on this quickly. They shouldn’t have. Nobody should have known I was missing until a few days ago.”
Her stomach clenched again. “So now you’re going to take my phone away completely? I didn’t know you were hiding! If you’d told me the truth, I—”
“It’s done now,” he snapped. “We’ll need to pack and leave today, just in case.”
All the words from her journal swirled around in her head. Sentences like, ‘He’ll take care of me forever’ and ‘I’ve never felt more at home than when I’m with him’ stabbed her. Tiny daggers. Jesse was right. Reading her journal had opened her eyes, but probably not the way he wanted.
She looked at the cheery sun shining into the room. It was warm on her face, but she was a cold statue. She imagined what it might be like to stay with Jesse. Her life would be hiding, she realized. Not only hiding from the law, but from herself. At one point she had been willing to accept such a life, but now she remembered the men in the suits and the dread in her stomach when she had seen them. Now there had been some strange man she didn’t know knocking on their door at eight in the morning, warning them they had to leave. This was only the beginning. Jesse would never stop. He hadn’t changed. He didn’t belong to her. He would never be what she needed, no matter how hard she tried to pretend he was.
“Last night,” she said in a soft voice, “I dreamed about dragons.”
Jesse nodded. “You wrote about those in your journal.”
“In my dream, there were four of them—one for each of you who took me. I flew away with one of the dragons. He was you.”
He stepped forward. She couldn’t back away. “That’s one of the reasons I thought this could work,” he said, reaching a hand out to her. “When I read your journal, I saw parts of you that made me believe you could deal with this. You’re that kind of personality.”
She scrunched her nose. “What kind of personality?”
Placing his hand on her arm, he inched closer. “Stubborn but submissive. Eric saw that in you. He tested you, and when he was convinced you were wired that way, we all agreed to push you into wanting to stay with us. Eric knew if we could nudge your stubbornness in the right direction, you’d be ours forever. He also knew heavy violence wasn’t the way to push you, so he forced himself to be as gentle as possible. We all did.”
Naomi let out a deep sigh, knowing everything he said was true. “That was all while I was captive. I’m not kidnapped anymore. I’m trying to break out of that frame of mind. I’m trying to be stronger.”
Jesse was close to her now. She felt as if the walls might be falling in on top of her. “This will take time to sort through,” he said as he wrapped an arm around her waist. “I love you, Naomi. I’ll love you forever.”
Looking into his eyes, she felt her heart melt into oblivion. She did love him more than she had loved anyone, but how far could that stretch if he was going to take her into dark places she didn’t want to go? How could she be sure he wasn’t doing the exact same thing he and the other kidnappers had done before?
And then the thread snapped.
Naomi pulled away from him, sliding along the edge of the bed until she was free of him. “I have to ... I have to ....” She swiped a hand across her mouth as her stomach churned. Running to the bathroom, she slammed the door behind her. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t. She had made her choice and it was over. She knelt in front of the toilet and let everything come up her throat. There was nowhere to go and nobody to turn to except for Jesse. Always Jesse. He had made sure of it.
XXII
THERE WERE TWO THINGS ON HER MIND AS she sat retching over the toilet for the next ten minutes. The first thing was did she want to leave? And the second was did she have the courage to leave? She didn’t have an answer for either one. It was like the house all over again. She wasn’t technically being held against her will, but she might as well have been. In fact, it was worse because most of it was inside her head—and everyone knows your head can be a worse prison than anywhere else. Like at the house, she had a choice to wait things out and see where they went. Or she could suck it up and leave already. Jesse wouldn’t dare stop her. Then again, maybe he would.
There was a knock on the door before he came into the bathroom and looked down at her.
“Go away,” she snapped.
“We have to pack and leave,” he said, leaning down to take her by the arm.
She yanked away from him. “What if I don’t want to go with you?”
He folded his arms, and even though he wasn’t touching her, she felt as if he was holding on to her so tightly she couldn’t escape. She knew arguing was pointless.
“I’m not letting you leave on your own,” he said. “Right now, you’re going to pack your bags and get in a taxi with me. When we’re settled again, we’ll talk things over. You’re emotional. Do you want to make such a big choice when you’re a complete wreck? Look at yourself.”
She glanced at the toilet bowl filled with her vomit, and the fire inside her spluttered to a wet pile of ashes. She was a wreck. He had a point she couldn’t ignore.
Refusing his help, she got to her feet. Her knees wobbled. “I hate it when you’re right,” she snarled.
He shrugged and walked out of the bathroom.
PACKING THEIR bags took less than an hour. Naomi bundled up her drawings and managed to stuff all of her art supplies into the corners of one of her suitcases. When she reached for the new sheets on the bed, Jesse told her they’d have to leave them behind along with everything else they had bought for the apartment. As they walked out the door and she looked at the apartment one last time, he assured her where they were going would have everything they would need.
“And where is that?” she asked as they tromped down the stairs with their luggage.
“A safe house just outside of Rome.”
Stepping down each stair behind him, she mumbled, “Safe from the good guys, you mean.”
Pausing, he set down the suitcases he was carrying in each hand. The sound echoed off the concrete walls as he turned around to face her. “Wha
t did you say?”
“Nothing.” She was sure he had heard her clear as day.
“The world is not split up into good guys and bad guys,” he hissed as she looked down at him. “Is that the category you put me in? ‘Bad guy’?”
The luggage in her hands pulled hard on her muscles, making her lean against the wall to support her weight. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “All I meant was things are upside down from what I expected them to be. I thought you had changed and nobody could tell me you were bad anymore.”
He tilted his head. “And all those years ago when you told me you’d rather run away with me than live without me, were you lying? Would you have done it?” He glanced at the luggage she carried. “Or does the fact that you’re with me now mean you would have?”
She stumbled a little, but caught herself. “I don’t know about back then, but this time I thought I was making a different choice. Now it’s too late. I thought I loved you. I mean ... I do love you ... but maybe it’s not ... oh, I don’t know.” She gritted her teeth, angry that nothing she wanted to say would come out right.
He looked into her eyes. “Of course you love me,” he answered in his maddeningly calm, level voice.
She stared at a big chip in the concrete stair below her, squeezing the luggage handles in her hands. Yes, of course she loved him.
“Jesse!” Lalia’s voice echoed up the stairwell. “Your taxi here! You coming down? I hear you talking.”
Jesse cringed. “Yes!” he yelled out. “Be right there.” He turned around and lifted his bags. Naomi pursed her lips shut as she followed him, determined not to say another word while she was still so upset. When they reached the lobby, Lalia was holding the door open for them.
“I sad to see you go,” she said, looking straight at Naomi. “You such lovely girl.”
Naomi saw her differently now, knowing she ran an apartment building to house criminals. Perhaps it was best they were leaving. She hadn’t stopped to think about what other kinds of people might be living here. Of course, the place they were going probably wasn’t any better.
After giving the old woman a brief hug, Naomi followed Jesse out the door. The taxi driver helped them load the trunk with their luggage. Soon, she was sitting in the back seat watching the heart of Rome slip by in a blur of sunset colors.
THE SAFE house was more like a safe palace. A wall of ancient rock blanketed with ivy surrounded it. A black wrought-iron gate guarded its entrance. As the taxi driver pulled up to the gate, Naomi caught a glimpse of the house inside the walls. It was at least three stories tall, built of rock and what looked like peach-colored plaster, with columns and white-trimmed windows. The grounds were lush and manicured, even in December, shaded by palm trees and flat-topped pines.
“Who owns this?” Naomi asked as they climbed out of the taxi and began unloading their luggage.
“Lots of people,” Jesse said, shrugging. “I don’t ask questions.”
It seemed there was a lot he didn’t know, and even more she didn’t know, and there was nothing she could do about it. A man wearing a suit and sunglasses came to the gate and pushed a code on a panel in the rock wall. The gate slid open and the man motioned for Jesse and Naomi to walk through. Jesse paid the taxi driver, and Naomi watched the car drive off before she turned to look at the house. She wondered how many people lived here and what kind of illegal crap they did to make money. Her stomach sank at the realization she was one of those people, even if she didn’t directly do anything illegal. She was with Jesse. She was staying with him, and that meant she supported whatever he was doing.
They were escorted into the house through the front door. The inside was as grand as the outside, filled with plants and sunlight and pastel décor. A thick rug woven with images of swans adorned the floor. Naomi looked up as a beautiful woman with slick black hair pulled into a bun on the top of her head greeted them, speaking in Italian. She wore a cream-colored suit, much like Naomi’s mother wore.
“English,” Jesse said, motioning to Naomi, and then continued in carefully pronounced Italian. He was far from fluent, she realized, but at least he could communicate.
The woman nodded and then smiled at Naomi. “I am Angelica,” she said in a thick accent. “We welcome you here while you need protection.” She held out a hand, palm-up. “I will need all mobile phones, please. They will be returned to you shortly.”
Jesse nodded and handed his over. Naomi pulled hers from her purse and placed it into Angelica’s hand.
“Hers you will need to destroy,” he said with a nervous glance at Naomi. “It’s no longer safe.”
“Of course,” Angelica said with a nod, and then motioned to a maid standing near a wide staircase leading upstairs. “Sonia will take you to your apartment.” She looked at Jesse and spoke in Italian before he nodded and motioned Naomi to follow him. Sonia gathered a few of their bags, and the three of them walked up the stairs.
Once Sonia left them in the apartment and Jesse closed the door, he set his bags on the floor and turned to Naomi. “We’ll be safe here. It’s nicer than the last place, anyway.” He smiled and pointed to a small kitchen to Naomi’s left. “And we can still cook if we want.”
She grunted and folded her arms. “So how do you know these people? Same as the guys in the suits?”
“Same network, yes.” He glanced at his watch. “Listen, you can relax here in the room for a while. I have to go meet with some people and get some work done.” When he spotted Naomi’s vicious glare, he sighed. “I know you have issues with this. I know we need to talk about things, but I have work to do and there’s no way out of it. I’ll be back in a few hours and we can go out to eat for dinner, okay? There should be food in the kitchen if you get hungry, but don’t leave the apartment until I’m back.”
She continued to glare at him as he gathered up his computer bag and a few other things and left the apartment. When he was gone, she stared at the door. There was a chain lock and a deadbolt, but both were on the correct side of the door, not the wrong side locking her in, like at the house. The two windows in the lavish living room looking out over the grounds didn’t appear as if they were locked from the outside to keep her inside, either. When she walked over to one and pulled the curtain aside, she thought the glass looked thicker than normal. Probably bulletproof. Great. She was living in a bulletproof palace. At least she could leave if she wanted to.
She found the bedroom and an office and then sat down on a leather sofa in the living room. There was a large screen TV on the far wall. She stared at it until her focus blurred. She didn’t want this, no matter how nice it might seem to live in luxury with her every need met. Her whole life had been that way so far, but worst of all, it was like being back in the house. As much as her heart sometimes ached to return to that time where she was happy with Jesse and felt safe with her kidnappers, she knew it was ridiculous to want such a thing. It was the Stockholm syndrome. She had read enough about it to know how her mind had been twisted. The worst thing was that much of what she had read made it clear only a certain type of personality responded so deeply to such manipulation. Everybody else, it seemed, would have tried to escape their kidnappers, even if the clear outcome was death. Most would rather die than live in such circumstances, so what was wrong with her? Jesse had called her stubborn and submissive. How could she be both? She was screwed up, that’s what it was. Everybody else was normal and she was wired in such a way nobody would ever understand her. Including herself.
She pulled a couch pillow into her lap and hugged it to her chest as she realized Jesse didn’t understand her on every single level, no matter how much she had convinced herself he did. He would never have brought her here to Italy if he understood her. He would never have kept so many things from her if he knew how betrayed and frightened it was going to make her feel. Here, in a place where she was alone, she looked into the darkest parts of herself and saw a girl desperately weaving threads into a thick shroud to hide the truth. All th
ose threads she had thought connected her to others were nothing more than excuses to weave into the shroud, one by one. Jesse’s was the thickest and ran straight down the center. He loved her, of that she was certain. But he loved her for all the wrong reasons and she loved him for all the wrong reasons. She wanted someone strong to make decisions for her, protect her, and cradle her from the reality she had been running from her entire life. As far as she could see, he still felt guilty for kidnapping her. Prison hadn’t erased the guilt, so taking care of her was his next attempt at fixing everything. It was all wrong, wrong, wrong, and she wanted to escape no matter how much it hurt to leave him. Thinking about doing such a thing made her squeeze the pillow even tighter to her chest. She fell sideways onto the couch and curled into a ball, too exhausted to do anything except count her trembling breaths.
WHEN SHE woke, the room was a mix of gray and purple light. The sun was beginning to go down. She sat up with a start. Jesse hadn’t returned. A clock on the wall showed the time was just past four-thirty. She hadn’t expected to fall asleep, but it made sense that her subconscious wanted to escape. In fact, her entire being wanted to escape, but she wasn’t sure how to do it without breaking her heart in the process. Leaving Jesse—after all she had sacrificed to be with him—made no sense. She knew it would hurt, but to the logical side of her brain, it made perfect sense. That was the side Stacy tapped into, or at least what she had tried to tap into for so long.
Looking down, Naomi realized she had been hugging the couch pillow so tightly that it was damp with her sweat. She set the pillow aside and went into the kitchen. It was small but clean. There were sleek granite countertops, bone china plates stacked in the cupboards, and shiny black stools set in front of a bar at the far end of the room. Naomi opened the refrigerator door and peeked inside. Cheeses, condiments, some vegetables in the crisper. None of it looked good at the moment. Closing the door, she walked out of the kitchen and stood staring at her and Jesse’s luggage they had both left in the entryway.
Pieces (The Breakaway #2) Page 18