by Sabre Rose
But I must not be distracted. I have waited too long to remove my mask now.
My songbird’s voice falters, cracking and wavering until sobs wrench from her body and she jumps from the stage, pushing her way through the crowd. She is so close to me. Right in front of me. The urge to take her is so strong that my body trembles under the command not to lift her into my arms.
But I will wait.
I will be patient, even though it pains me.
Because soon, my songbird will be mine.
And nothing else matters.
mia
CHAPTER TWENTY
MIA
I keep having the same dream. I’m in a dark room. Panic creeps over me, prickling my skin and turning my blood to ice. I’m in chains, strung up and balancing on my tiptoes. Nothing but darkness surrounds me. And then I hear it. A shushing sound. A whisper.
The light blinks on, blinding me. I shut my eyes against its intensity, seeing nothing but blotches of red mixed with flashes of white. And then I see him, lying on the floor, a pool of blood creeping out from under where the knife handle protrudes from his shoulder.
“Ryker?”
Dark eyes move to fix on me. He shakes his head, a single finger coming up to pose at his mouth. “Shh,” he says.
“Ryker?” I strain at the chains around my wrists, wrenching my body, trying to escape so I can get to him.
“Shh,” he says again. “Don’t say a word.”
His face twists, morphing into something different. Something with darker hair and paler skin. Marcel. He lifts himself from the ground, the knife gone, but blood still smeared across his naked body.
My head starts to shake. “No,” I say. “Don’t come near me.” But there is no escape, no hiding as he stalks toward me, his smile slick with malice.
“Don’t say a word.” He starts to laugh. “Don’t say a word.” He’s closer now. Close enough to reach out and touch me. “Don’t say a word.” His finger strokes my arm. “Don’t say a word.” His face is so close now, his lips only moments away from mine, curled into a sneer.
I scream.
And that’s when I wake.
I’ve been home, I’ve been safe for three weeks but each night my nightmare wakes me.
Tonight is no different.
My screams are deafening but a few moments pass before I realize they’re coming from my mouth. My screams turn to tears. Mum runs into my room, hair in disarray, concern framing her eyes.
“Mia.” She reaches out, her hand smoothing back the hair plastered to my forehead. “Mia, it’s okay. You’re safe. You’re safe.”
It takes me a while to remember where I am. Home. Safe. In my own bed. The light from the hallway peeks through the crack of the open door. Open because I can’t stand to have it closed. Open because I need the light. I need to see. To know I’m safe.
“Shh,” she says, her words taking me back to my nightmare. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay.”
Pulling up the covers, she climbs into bed with me, holding me close as the tears subside. I thought once I was free, my nightmares would be over. But, instead, I am trapped in a state of the unknown, a state of nervous terror because he is still out there.
And I still don’t know who he is.
Three weeks can seem like a lifetime or a blink. It’s been three weeks since I’ve been home. Almost the same amount of time that I was away. Once, my parents took me on a family vacation and we went to the Gold Coast of Australia for two weeks. The holiday went so quickly, but it seems strange to even compare it as the same amount of time I was a captive. During that time, I went through a lifetime of emotions which has turned everyday life into something confusing and frightening.
But despite my nightmares, I have been getting better, even though my attempt of returning to the bar from where I was taken was a disaster. I’ve ventured outside, gone to the coffee shop with Roxy, headed to the library to get more books to keep my brain occupied, and, next week, I’ve even said I want to start back at the bakery.
It’s time to return to my old life. My life before a stranger requested me. Life before Marcel stole from me. Life before Ryker.
Even though it is only 6am, Mum and Dad have already been at the bakery for hours when I get out of bed. Rummaging through my drawers, I pull out my bathing suit and stuff it into my bag with a towel. I used to find comfort in the silence of the water and I am determined to find it again.
The sun is rising above the roofs of my neighborhood as I stroll down the footpath. My eyes scan the area, jumping at every strange noise or flash of movement, and I have to internally remind myself that I am safe. But I keep my fingers clutched around my cell phone, ready in case I need to call for help. Just to be safe.
There aren’t many people about at this time of day, but ahead of me, I see my neighbors walking their dog, their little girl, Libby, walking between them talking animatedly. Her eyes grow wide when she spots me and she breaks away from her parents, running toward me with her arms thrown wide.
“Mia!” I bend low so she can wrap her arms around me. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever.” She draws out the word ‘forever’, exaggerating it dramatically.
I hug her tightly, relishing the way her innocence feels in my arms. I used to babysit her each Friday after she finished school while her parents were still at work. We were teaching each other the piano. Well, I was watching tutorials and doing my best to pass on what I’d learned. So far, we hadn’t got past lullabies, but we had a lot of fun learning. Seeing her again makes me ache for that time.
“Libby, I’ve missed you.” I pull away and hold her at arm’s length examining her dress. Libby adores pretty dresses and is was my duty to inspect them. “Pretty,” I say, nodding seriously. “Very, very pretty.” My eyes narrow in on the pattern displayed over the blue material, noticing there are little birds surrounded by musical notes. I swallow the knot of panic in my throat and force myself to smile wider. “How are you getting on with the piano playing? Any progress?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “No,” she says grumpily. “Because you haven’t been here to teach me.”
I laugh at her sass just as her parents reach us. They smile, but their smiles are tight. Libby’s mother holds out her hand, waving it for Libby to take.
“Mia, it’s good to see you.” She draws Libby close to her side, almost shielding her from me. “I hope you are…” Her lips thin out as she smiles even tighter. “I hope you are well. I hope you are okay.”
The dog bounds toward me but Libby’s father tugs on the leash, forcing it back into submission.
“Where are you going?” Libby asks.
“I’m just heading to the pool for a swim.”
“Can I come?”
I look up at her parents. “Of course you can, if it’s okay with your parents.”
Some company would do me good, keep my mind from wandering to places it shouldn’t. I wouldn’t get quite as much exercise with Libby trailing along behind me, but the thought of just splashing in the water and having fun appeals.
“Mia looks as though she’s busy.” Her mother’s knuckles are white as they grasp Libby’s hand. “Another time maybe.”
“Oh, I really don’t mind,” I say, but they walk around me, determined to get back on their way. It strikes me as a little odd as Libby’s mother was always keen for some extra alone time when I’d offered in the past. Libby can be a handful, but she is just the sort of handful I need at the moment. The perfect distraction.
“No, no. It’s quite alright.”
Libby’s father gives me an apologetic smile and tugs the dog’s leash.
“Would you like me to start looking after her on Fridays again? I’m feeling much better now.”
“Thank you.” Libby’s mother keeps walking. “But we made other arrangements while you were away.”
While I was away. I know she’s just putting it that way to avoid unwanted questions from her daughter, but somethi
ng has changed. She doesn’t want me around Libby. Even though I was the one stolen and held captive, to her, I still represent some sort of danger.
Libby turns with her hand still in her mother’s and waves. I wave back, hiding my sadness behind a smile.
My renewed determination to return to normal life fades with each step they take. Life will never be normal again. Not for me. And not for those around me. What I went through will forever scar me, even if those scars aren’t visible.
I walk the rest of the way to the pool briskly, my thoughts stuck on Libby’s innocent smile. It is hard not to feel bitterness toward her parents, but in some small way, I can understand them. They knew what had happened to me. I guess they looked at me and imagined it could be their own daughter one day. I would want to keep her as far away as possible too.
After reaching the pool and changing into my bathing suit, I stand at the edge of the water and take a deep breath. Lifting my arms above my head and stretching onto my toes, I push myself off the side and plunge into the still water. I swim for as long as I can, holding my breath, kicking furiously with my peaked fingers slicing through the water in front of me. I keep going until my lungs burn, until they scream for air, and then I kick faster until my fingers feel the concrete and I’ve reached the other side. Only then do I allow myself to rise to the surface and suck in air. It feels glorious.
Glancing around the pool, I notice someone walking toward the water on the other side. Him. The man from the pool. He waves when he sees me, and my heart beat sounds loudly in my ears. Quickly, I look around to make sure we’re not alone, and spot a lifeguard sitting high on a chair, staring at his phone. At least he would hear me scream.
Instead of getting into the pool, he walks around the edge toward me.
“You’re back,” he says, grinning from ear to ear.
“I’m back,” I repeat and give him an awkward laugh, pretending my shallow breaths are from exertion alone.
Pulling his goggles up onto his forehead, he sinks down to sit on the edge of the pool. “I read about you in the papers. Are you okay?”
It’s the first time anyone but my family, Roxy or the police, have addressed it directly. He doesn’t shy away from the topic, doesn’t walk in the opposite direction.
“Yeah,” I say, not really wanting to discuss it. “I’m good.” I plaster on a smile, hoping it will convince him that it isn’t a lie when it is.
He jumps into the water with a plop and I unconsciously move away from him. He spits into his goggles, rubbing the saliva into the lenses before rinsing it off in the water.
Without any further discussion, he kicks off against the wall and starts to swim. A little bubble of elation blooms within me. Maybe things can return to normal after all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
MIA
I feel good after my swim. Refreshed and hopeful. The stretch of my muscles and the screams of my lungs kept my mind occupied. Not once did I think of my requestor out there waiting for me. Nor did I think of Ryker.
I start humming on my walk back home, humming which soon turns into quiet singing. The sun, now higher in the sky, warms my skin, soaking into me as though it is happiness itself. As I walk past the entrance to the small park, birds chirp noisily, and the sound of children laughing as they play reaches my ears. I pass a bush and a dog leaps out, tongue wagging, almost smiling as it bounds away from its frustrated owner.
I don’t jump. I don’t even flinch.
The sun stays in the sky, the world doesn’t darken. I am okay. Perhaps not completely okay, but I’m getting there.
But as soon as I turn onto the street that leads to mine, my singing is joined by a beat. Footsteps echo off the concrete behind me.
And I’m back at square one, my heart pounding faster as I imagine the stranger behind me as him. My requestor. Part of me keeps waiting for him to appear, almost as though I expect it. But I tell myself that I’m fine. Because I am. No hands have reached to grab me. It’s probably just a person out for a morning stroll with no idea of what their footsteps are doing to me.
Even still, I reach into my pocket and wrap my hands around my phone, reminding myself that safety and reassurance is only a phone call away. I’ve programmed my phone to dial my mother, my father, Roxy and the police at the touch of a number.
But despite my reassurance, my heart keeps racing in my chest and I quicken my steps. My panic spikes when the steps behind me quicken too. I hazard a glance behind, mainly to assure myself that my imagination is running away, and that’s when I see him.
The man from the bar.
The one with the hungry eyes.
He smiles at me sadistically and begins to run.
Lurching myself forward, I sling my bag over my back and start to sprint. Fumbling inside my pocket, I bring out my phone, my fingers shaking as I attempt to push the button. It rings and rings as I silently pray for my mother to answer, the sound accenting the panic inside me, but before anyone can answer, I trip and my phone falls to the ground, skidding out of my reach and the screen shattering.
Terror takes hold and I toss my bag aside as I stumble back to my feet, removing all burdens to allow me to run faster. My house is still far away, but Roxy’s is closer, so I turn down her street, not caring as tears begin streaming down my face and blurring my vision.
My requestor toys with me, increasing and decreasing his pace to match mine, gaining on me slowly. My heart pounds. My legs quiver and shake as I force myself forward, pleading for safety. I glance behind me again, because part of me feels like this isn’t real, like I’m stuck in one of my nightmares, but he is still there with the sadistic smile spread over his face even as he runs.
My glance backward costs me, and I stumble, my hands hitting the ground with force, but I manage to get up again, running toward Roxy’s house. I can see it in the distance. Safety. All I need to do is get there with enough time to grab the spare key, insert it into the lock, and slam the door shut behind me. Once inside, I can hide and call the police. The thought pushes my legs faster and my strides longer. But his steps keep thundering behind me.
A car pulls out of Roxy’s driveway and my heart soars, thinking it is her, but the car isn’t the same sleek blue one that was parked outside my house. But when the driver of the car sees me, he swerves to the side of the road, opening the door and jumping out before it even comes to a complete stop. The car keeps rolling forward and bumps into the gutter as Roxy’s boyfriend races past me, straight toward the man chasing me. There’s a look of contempt on the man’s face as he turns abruptly, racing the other way when he realizes we are no longer alone. I watch as they turn the corner, Sebastian chasing after my requestor as though his life depends on it.
And I just stay there, frozen on the footpath as waves of terror and relief roll through me as nausea.
He’s here.
He’s been watching this whole time, waiting until I was alone.
My eyes stay stuck on where they disappeared until Sebastian rounds the corner again, chest heaving with exertion. He meets my eye and shakes his head. I crumple to the ground, feeling as though all the blood has been drained from me. Sebastian races over, bending down to take me in his arms, but when he notices the way I’m cowering and trembling, he just kneels beside me.
“It’s okay, Mia,” he says, keeping a safe distance between us. “He’s gone now. You’re safe.”
But I’m not safe. I will never be safe with him out there watching and waiting. Sebastian shuffles forward, tentatively reaching out to lay his hand on my shoulder.
“Come on. We can’t stay here.”
It’s only then that I realize I’m cowering in the middle of the road. Taking Sebastian’s hand, I allow him to pull me to my feet, though I’m still shaking and trembling, and my breath is coming out in short quick pants. It feels as though I’m suffocating and no matter how hard I try, I can’t breathe.
Sebastian leads me over to the car, opening the back door and lowering me
to the seats. I flinch when he reaches across me, and he apologizes, showing me a bottle of water and offering it to me.
“Drink this. It will help you calm down.”
“I can’t breathe,” I manage to stutter.
“I know. It’s okay. I think you’re having a panic attack. Just sit there, concentrate on breathing deeply, drink the water and I’ll call Roxy.”
“And the police.” My voice is small and weak.
He leans against the car and pulls his phone out of his pocket. Attempting to control my trembling, I twist the cap off the bottle and drink greedily, hoping it will do as Sebastian said and help calm me. The water is cool, and I try to concentrate on the feeling of it sliding down my throat. I imagine it spreading into my body, imagine myself calming, my heart beat slowing. I close my eyes but then wrench them back open when his smile stretches across my memories.
It was pure evil.
My heart starts to race again and I take another chug on the bottle drinking and drinking until nothing remains. Sebastian’s voice is low and controlled as he talks to Roxy. And suddenly I’m weary. So very, very tired. Exhausted. But each time I close my eyes, he’s there again, smiling at me, calling me his sweet songbird.
Sebastian walks around to the other side of the car and pulls open the door, climbing in and sitting next to me.
“They’re on their way,” he says. His hand hovers in the air as though he wants to touch me, comfort me, but when he sees the renewed terror in my eye, he places it on his knee, moving closer to me so I can feel the reassurance of his presence without his touch.
“It was him?” he asks. “The one who requested you?”