by Ilsa Ames
Her arms were crossed again, and she turned to face me, eyes blazing with annoyance.
“So this is why you brought me here? Because of some bullshit theory you’ve made up about my dad poisoning your precious trees? Whatever. I’m going to bed,” she said quickly and angrily, before storming off, flinging herself on the bed in the middle of her room, huffing with annoyance.
I stared after her, slowly shaking my head. Goddamn, I had to go and kidnap the most firecracker-mouthed daddy’s girl in the history of rich spoiled daddy’s girls.
I sighed, before walking over to the desk where all of my notes were. I picked up a blue ring binder I’d prepared as evidence, at a time when I’d considered going to the authorities about the whole situation. Eventually, however, I had decided that a more direct approach would be much more effective. But somehow, I started to think I’d made a mistake.
I stormed back into the room and flung the binder down on the bed next to her.
“Read. It’s not bullshit. I’ve had the water tested, taken from different sources all over the damn mountain, at different independent labs. They all point to the same cause. Chemicals being dumped carelessly at various locations in waterways upstream from this cabin. The evidence is right fucking there. Have a look for yourself.”
She refused to respond, turning her head to look away at the wall. She looked upset, which I figured was reasonable, given that the perfect image she had of her dad was being shattered before her very eyes.
I had hoped to get this resolved within an hour of bringing her back here. One quick call to her father, explaining my demands, followed by negotiation on her release. It had all seemed so simple. Too simple, I admitted to myself in hindsight.
Like I said, I didn’t want to hurt her. Hell, I knew I could never bring myself to harm someone so damn beautiful, no matter how responsible for all of this shit her father was. I was patient, but I knew I was slowly running out of time. I had to hope she’d at least take a look at the information in the binder, to decide for herself.
I knew she wasn’t stupid, if a little naïve and spoiled. I was sure she’d see reason, if she’d accept that maybe, just maybe, her daddy wasn’t so perfect.
“Well, I’ll leave that there, anyway,” I snapped at her silence. “You really should take a look for yourself, you know. There’s a lot of people in my hometown getting sick as hell because of your father’s greed,” I hissed angrily. “Not to mention the forest and all the fucking wildlife within it he’s destroying.”
I paused as I turned to leave the room, hoping I could win her over. Hoping that she would see that I wasn’t a monster, insane, or out to hurt her. I was convinced that once she knew the truth, that she’d accept the reasons for what I’d done to her, that it was all necessary. To put things right.
“I’m not doing this for money,” I growled, standing in the doorway, “I want this poisoning to stop, for your father to make things right with the people he’s hurt. That’s all I want, Lia.” I stopped, my jaw clenched as I shook my head.
“Look, I’m going to go make us some dinner. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” I glanced back at her. “Read the fucking binder.”
I decided against locking the door to her room after closing it, figuring she would probably need to use the bathroom at some point anyway, and I didn’t want her to feel like a prisoner.
Power dynamics.
I scowled, shaking my head.
In any case, the front door was locked, and most of the windows were barred from the outside. Somehow, I didn’t think she was stupid enough to go running off into the woods anyways.
I set about preparing some food, distracted as I willed Lia to take a look at the folder I’d left on her bed.
I needed her to realize I wasn’t the monster she thought I was here.
Chapter Four
Lia
I rubbed at my wrists and lips as he closed the door behind him, noticing that he didn’t lock it as he went.
Guess he’s gonna allow me to use the bathroom at least.
I stared out the window, ignoring, for now, the weirdly dead-looking trees he’d pointed out. It all looked the same, no matter which direction I looked. He was right—there was no way I was going to escape from here on foot. My life of yoga and parties hadn’t exactly prepared me for any kind of woodland survival situations, and the last thing I wanted was to come crawling back to my kidnapper, begging him to let me come back in.
No, I was going to have to find another way out of this goddamn mess.
I winced at the pain where he’d ripped off the duct tape. It hurt worse than any waxing I’d ever had done, and my wrists had some lovely red welts from the cable ties he’d used to restrain me.
Goddamn hillbilly with his insane, paranoid ideas about my dad. A stupidly good-looking hillbilly, as far as kidnapping hillbillies go.
I shook my head to clear those unhelpful thoughts away. No matter how unexpectedly young and ruggedly handsome this guy was, he’d still fucking kidnapped me off the goddamn street and brought me out here to his cabin dungeon in the woods. So what if his eyes were sharp, and gorgeous, and his jaw was chiseled and strong? So what if his hands were huge and his body looked like he’d earned it by working hard out in the fields and forests all day?
Focus, Lia. He kidnapped you, remember? Why are you finding it so difficult to stay mad at the man who kidnapped you?
My eyes came to rest on the binder he’d brought to show me, as proof that my dad had poisoned the woods or whatever bullshit he was attempting peddle. No way was I going to look at whatever illiterate scribblings were in there.
I childishly kicked it onto the floor, feeling a petty flush of pleasure as it slapped down onto the hardwood floor. I paced up and down for a few minutes, unsure of what to do with myself. I could have gone out, but he was out there, and I wasn’t feeling particularly chatty at that moment.
It was the middle of July, and the house was comfortably warm, and those dead trees forced themselves into my mind. I glanced out of the window at them. They should surely have been full of leaves and fruit, and the grass should’ve been lush and overgrown. Everything looked barren and dead though, and if I listened I should have been able to hear birdsong. I held my breath and squinted as I strained my ears. Nothing. Not even a chirp or a peep.
The cabin was up on a hill, and even though the trees were numerous I could see a decent distance around. Maybe it was just this area around the cabin? Maybe Mr. hillbilly kidnapping psychopath had deliberately cut all the leaves off the nearest trees, so he could try to con some money out of my dad?
I sat there, trying to come up with a list of reason why this guy was clearly insane, and wrong, before my bladder won out.
I pushed open the door, ignoring him and making my way to the bathroom. I used it quickly, and when I stepped out, I still ignored him as I wandered around the cabin, peering out of all the windows. Everywhere I looked, as far as the eye could see, was dead. No green at all, just tall, skeletal trees and muddy ground.
It was uncanny, is what it was. Doubt began to creep into my gut. Something had caused this to happen. Something unnatural. Despite my reservations about what I might find, I headed back to my room, deliberately still avoiding any sort of eye contact with my kidnapper, and closed the door behind me. The folder was there, on the floor, and I reluctantly picked it up and began to leaf through the numerous pages.
The first section was water quality reports, exhaustively gathered from what I could see were waterways and ponds over a wide area. All of them tested positive for high levels of toxic chemicals—extremely high levels. There was a list of the chemicals there, and they were cross-referenced with the known by-products of textile production. My heart sank. I knew dad had a big textile plant somewhere out in the sticks. It was one of his biggest and most profitable moneymakers.
Some of my more eco-conscious friends had told me about it before. How the textiles industry was one of the biggest groun
dwater polluters out there. How my dad was contributing to killing the planet for profit. I’d always just shrugged it off, putting it down to jealousy, and convincing myself that clothing and textiles couldn’t possibly cause that much environmental damage. It was just cloth after all, right? I looked at some of the chemicals on the list: formaldehyde, dyes, chlorine, bleach. All nasty stuff that contaminated waterways and groundwater for generations.
I swallowed, wanting to hurl the binder away and try to forget what I’d read, but I forced myself to carry on reading. The next section was a series of medical reports on various people over a large geographical area. All lived locally, most near to one or more of the sources of contaminated water outlined in the water quality reports.
The list of ailments was stomach-churning. Cancers, lesions, skin complaints, blindness, death. There were dozens of these reports. So many sick people, many of them seriously ill. The symptoms all lined up with exposure to the various chemicals that are known to come from textile manufacturing.
The areas with the strongest levels of toxic chemicals were where the worst of the illnesses in people and wildlife were. The levels of water contamination were hundreds of times higher than they should have been, and it was killing people, plants, and wildlife indiscriminately. The binder was well-organized and concisely laid out. The information was all there, all sourced, and impossible to argue with. And at the end, the kicker, the final nail in the coffin. There was a map, and in the middle was my father’s factory, clearly labelled. The contamination was like a heat map, spreading outwards around the factory.
I felt light-headed, almost like I was going to faint. My whole world crashed around me in an instant. My father, whether or not he ever came to this factory or personally authorized the illegal dumping of these chemicals, was complicit. His business was killing people and destroying lives and nature across a huge area.
I sank to the floor, tears filling my eyes. My dad had always been my hero, especially after mom had died, he was all I had. Sure, he was always busy with work, or travelling, but he made sure to spend time with me when he could, and always made sure that I had everything I could ever want or need. He was a good dad, and I loved him.
But that didn’t excuse... this. This horror. People were dying.
And I can do something about it. I have the power to change this, to make it better.
Maybe this guy who kidnapped me was a backwards redneck. Maybe he’d committed a felony, and maybe I still wanted him to go to jail for what he’d done. But, as I sat there, tears streaming down my face, I hardened my heart.
If helping him in his goals stopped all of…well, this, it couldn’t be ignored. I had to help him. I had to put a stop to this, before things got even worse, before more innocent people got sick and died.
I rose to my feet and wiped away my tears, knowing in my heart what I had to do even if I was sick inside for it. I picked up the folder, storming out of the bedroom and into the living room. His back was turned to me as he stirred something on the stove, and slapped the folder down on the kitchen table.
He whirled, his gray eyes narrowing at me. Slowly though, his look softened as he took me in, standing wiping tears from my eyes, shaking my head and trying to scatter the horrible images and damning evidence I’d just taken in
“I’ll do it, alright?” I choked out. “I’ll help you.”
Chapter Five
Logan
I was slightly stunned when Lia slammed the folder down on kitchen table with her offer to help, and within that, the admission of her father’s guilt. I knew she wasn’t stupid, and anyone with even half a brain could see clearly what was going on, the water quality samples, and the multitude of health problems suddenly arising across the town. And all of the illnesses were cropping up within the area which was fed water from the very reservoir I had studied.
Truth be told, I was exhausted, and I’d been half dazing out when Lia had stormed out of her room to speak to me. I hid it, of course, pretending I was poring over the notes on the desk in front of me. I couldn’t show her I was on the verge of passing out, obviously.
I hadn’t slept in almost two days before the kidnapping–my mind constantly going over permutations and possibilities. But now, as it seemed, everything seemed to be falling into place.
I just had to stay focused.
The simple dinner I’d prepared was almost ready, potatoes with some green veggies simmering away on the stove. I just had to fry up some steaks to finish the meal. But that could wait for a second.
I turned to face Lia, trying to hide the exhaustion I felt in my grainy eyes as I looked up at her. She didn’t look very happy.
“Well, I’m glad you saw sense. I know it doesn’t make for very nice reading.” I frowned. “Sorry that you had to find out about what your dad’s been doing this way.”
I kept my voice low, trying to be as comforting as I could. I mean hell, I felt sorry for her. She may have been rich and spoiled, but she never knowingly accepted ill gotten money from her dad. She must have just assumed, as everyone else did, that his legitimate businesses were thriving.
“Look, I know it’s gotta be hard deal with all this shit, knowing what your dad’s been doing,” I growled, pulling a chair and gesturing for her to sit.
“But you’re doing the right thing. We can get this mess cleaned up, and then I can start helping all the people he’s made sick.”
Lia sat down, letting out a sigh as she slumped into the chair. She looked a little defeated, but there was also a steely determination in her eyes.
Hell, this girl is stronger than I thought.
And shit did she look even more tempting when she had that determined fury on her face.
I shook the thought from my head, trying to stay focused and professional. Which was hard, seeing as I’d never had female company in my time of solitude up in my remote mountain cabin. Hell, I hadn’t been with a woman in…God, so long I couldn’t even remember. Years.
That’s not why you brought her here, I hissed to myself, trying to keep the heat inside of me in check. Time to get this mess cleaned up, once and for all.
“So,” Lia said, eyes searching mine. “What’s your genius plan here? And I’m guessing I don’t get to know your name? Even though you knew mine already.”
Her voice was steady, and she seemed to have almost recovered from the shock of what she’d found out. Part of me wondered if she didn’t already have a sneaking suspicion her father was up to no good, making it slightly easier to accept what she’d seen.
“Logan,” I said slowly. “My name’s Logan.”
Her manicured eyebrows raised at my words, and I shrugged. “If you’re willing to help, then there’s no harm in us getting to know each other a little. It might make things easier, I guess.”
She studied my face, and I wondered what she was thinking about in that pretty little head of hers.
“Anyway, I need to speak to your dad. Talk things through, explain the situation and, well, my demands. Explain what he’ll need to do.” My mind was active again, the sluggishness of sleep deprivation lifting as I ran through what I’d need to say to Preston.
“Well, if you weren’t so preoccupied with tying me up, maybe you’d have thought to check the back of the truck. You know, for my bag? With my cell phone in-”
I slid her phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, and her face reddened.
“Look, princess,” I muttered. “I get that you think I’m a psycho, kidnapping you and bringing you out into the middle of nowhere. And maybe I am, but I’m not an idiot.”
I slid the phone across the table, tapping it and bringing up the lock screen I’d have never gotten past anyways.
“Plus, be honest. You’d like and trust me even less than you probably already do if I’d just tried to brute-force my way into your phone or demanded you tell me how to unlock it.”
I tried not to sound too smug, as I’d planned this all out already. Hell, I could have just demande
d she unlock her phone for me. But she was seeing the light. She was getting that shit really was fucked up out here, and that her dad was behind it. And things would be a lot easier if she was co-operative, not coerced against her will.
Lia’s slim leg brushed against mine as she leaned forward for her phone. Heat and desire ignited inside of me, catching like a forest fire in dry season. But if she noticed anything at all, she made no sign.
“Well, it’s passcoded and fingerprint protected in case some weirdo tries looking through my phone.” She looked at me pointedly. “So, you’d need my help to open it anyways.
I decided not to remind her of the fact that I was twice her size and very capable of making her stick in a code and press her thumb to a cell phone.
“But, thanks for not being an asshole about it.” She frowned. “Not that I can believe I’m actually saying that, seeing as you kidnapped me and all.”
“You’re welcome,” I muttered dryly.
“Besides,” she huffed primly. “A girls gotta have secrets. Maybe I’ve got selfies on there that I don’t want any sleazy guy seeing…”
I looked her dead in the eye.
“Do you?”
Lia blushed scarlet, swallowing quickly and looking away as I grinned to myself.
Yeah, just try and play the flirt card with me, sweetheart.
She pressed a thumb to the home button, and after a split second the screen lit up. She reluctantly handed me the phone, and I nodded as I took it off of her.
“I won’t go snooping.” I pulled up her phonebook, ignoring the desire to open up her pictures folder and see what I found, even if I was mostly sure she’d just been teasing me.
“Much.”
Lia opened her mouth and then shut it, huffing at me as she folded her arms over her chest and sat back in her chair.
“I’m just gonna call your dad and talk to him. But the phone is staying in my pocket until he agrees to everything. No offense.”