Stockholm

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by Leigh Lennon




  Stockholm

  Leigh Lennon

  Stockholm

  Copyright @2018 Leigh Lennon

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles or reviews and pages where permission is specifically granted by the publisher or author.

  Although every precaution has been taken to verify the accuracy of the information contained herein, the author and publisher assume no responsibility for any errors or omissions. No liability is assumed for damages that may result from the use of information contained within.

  The E-book copy is licensed for you personal enjoyment and may not re-sold or given away.

  This book is a work of fiction and is the product of the author’s imagination.

  Editing by Jenny Sims at Editing 4 You.

  Proofreading services by Deaton Author Services.

  Formatting by Ink It Out Editing.

  Cover design by Najla Quamber.

  Alpha Reader: Emma Aldridge Rosemary Kalonaros.

  Beta Readers: AnnMarie Barajas, Nancy George, Megan Harris, Megan Damrow, Auden Dar, Erin Toland and Melody Hillier.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. 12 Years Ago

  2. Present

  3. 12 Years Ago

  4. Present

  5. 12 Years Ago

  6. Present

  7. 12 Years Ago

  8. Present

  9. 12 Years Ago

  10. Present

  11. 12 Years Ago

  12. Present

  13. 12 Years Ago

  14. Present

  15. 12 Years Ago

  16. Present

  17. 12 Years Ago

  18. Present

  19. 12 Years Ago

  20. Present

  21. 12 Years Ago

  22. Present

  23. 12 Years Ago

  24. Present

  25. 12 Years Ago

  26. Present

  27. 12 Years Ago

  28. Present

  29. 12 Years Ago

  30. Present

  31. 12 years ago

  32. Present

  Five years later

  David’s Letter

  David’s Journal

  A note from the author:

  What I Have Learned

  Many Thanks

  Books by Leigh Lennon

  Unfiltered

  Unfiltered Excerpt

  Unacquainted

  Unacquainted Excerpt

  Unwanted

  Unwanted Excerpt

  The Last Breath

  The Last Breath Excerpt

  The Holiday Package

  The Holiday Package Excerpt

  The Sweetest Package

  The Sweetest Package Excerpt

  About the Author

  Dedication

  To the man most know as the Hubs—you have sacrificed so much for me to follow this dream of mine. No other words can quite express how much I love you. Thanks for the crazies you put up with in the form of the writer in me.

  And as always, to my mom, who I miss every day and was and still is my first and number one fan even if she has spread her wings.

  About This Book

  What happens when your captor becomes your savior?

  Mikayla Miller wakes up one morning, bound to a bed, in a farmhouse in Alberta, Canada, with no recollection of how she got there.

  When she comes face to face with her captor, Mikayla can’t deny the instant chemistry between them. The man she only knows as Nolan insists he’s her protector, but lives by his own unique moral compass.

  As the days turn into months, Nolan’s touch, his words, and the way he looks at her, ignite her body and soul. No matter how hard Mikayla fights their unmistakable connection they share, she begins to fall for him, and a new woman is created in her place.

  Back in the small town where Mikayla disappeared, two women reel from a shattering loss. When letters suddenly start appearing from Mikayla, twelve years later, they are left wondering why she’d choose her abductor over her own family.

  Love is complicated, and messy;

  but sometimes the heart can’t help what it wants.

  For Mikayla Miller, it never was a choice.

  Prologue

  Twelve Years Ago

  The Kidnapping

  Mikayla

  What the hell did I do last night? Mikayla tried to rub her throbbing head, but when she looked down at her hands, she found them bound with rope. Her mind drifted to the previous evening when she’d met the charming stranger, if Monday was indeed last night, and she knew she didn’t do anything worthy of the way her entire body ached. Remembering their first words, she’d felt the spark from a giddy surge when he’d merely touched her hand. One she never felt with Ethan, the man she had dated for the past several months.

  Knowing a rowdy Saturday night did not cause her pain, she surveyed her surroundings and found no clue as to her whereabouts. She was chilled to the bone even though a blanket was draped over her. There was little light, just enough coming from the other side of the door. It was as if she was dreaming, though she knew she was awake. Groggy was an excellent way to describe how her head felt. Wait—she couldn’t remember much after calling Ethan to tell him she had too much studying to meet. Was it even the night still? Ethan would never suspect she stood him up for another guy. Of course, she needed to study with her course load, but on that night, she had a different reason for her absence.

  The events of the evening started to play through her mind as if on a movie reel. Good, she thought, trying to lie as still as possible, I’m starting to remember. The man who approached her was older but probably no more than ten years her senior. He was cute—no, he was more than handsome. He was much more attractive than Ethan, but her instant attraction and connection weren’t from his looks. Experiencing a bond with this man she had just met was odd. The movie continued to play in her head. She remembered him heading in her direction with purpose as if he were on a mission. Now that she thought about it, she’d been upset, but not because of Ethan and not because of the stranger.

  Remembering the stranger who’d approached her, he’d said, “I’m sorry; I don’t mean to be rude, but I needed to make sure you were okay. I saw you crying in your car, and I knew if I approached you, I would have scared the shit out of you. Are you all right?” The man was sincere, and Mikayla’s hazy memory returned in fragments as she slowly remembered what led her to where she was now. His earnestness had struck a chord with her.

  “You were watching me in my car?” She was alarmed but recalled the fight she’d had with a man who should be protecting her, not hurting her. Looking up at this stranger from the library, it was as if he saw right through her to the secret she’d carried around for so long.

  “I guess when you say it this way, it sounds creepy,” he said with a low belly laugh that made him even more attractive. With deep dark brown eyes and almost white hair, his contrasting features were enough to cause her to take notice. “It was actually pretty hard to miss.”

  In her mind, she remembered thinking the same thing as the tears streamed down her face while this was happening. “I guess I was very upset. I’m all right.”

  “I don’t believe you. Looking at you now, you’re trembling. By the way, I’m Nolan.”

  At that point, the movie screen went black. Now she knew she was in real danger. Where the hell am I? A nervous energy raced through her veins. Her entire body was drained, and if she could stand, she’d imagine her head spinning as if she’d had too many lemon drops. But now, she had no idea where she
was or how she got there.

  She smelled bacon and eggs, and for some reason, hunger pains like she’d never experienced before hit her stomach. She turned ever so slightly and saw a note that read, I’m making you breakfast. Call for me when you are awake.

  “What the hell?” she murmured. What had she done? Surely, this was not Ethan. She never in her wildest fantasies would have let him bind her. “Ouch! That hurts,” she said as a headache struck her from craning her neck and trying to sit up.

  “Hello?!” she yelled. “Where the fuck am I?” She never swore. Her roommate and lifetime best friend had a potty mouth that would put most sailors to shame, but she was prim and proper, just as her mom had taught her. Thinking of her mom put this into perspective. She would never have missed her dinner with her mother, not when she was going to introduce Ethan to her.

  She heard the creak of what sounded like old floorboards as someone approached, then the squeak of door hinges. “Oh, good. You’re up. Now, let me cut this rope.” The man spoke to her as though having a bound woman in his care was a normal occurrence. Studying him carefully, she realized he was at the library the night before. He was the man who she had felt the extreme connection with.

  “How are you feeling?” His voice was kind, almost sweet, as he caressed her cheek. Wild eyed and scared, she pushed herself as far away from him as she could in her binds.

  Within a second of encountering her captor, it was apparent that flight was not an option, and she was only left with fight. “Where the fuck am I? What the fuck did you do to me?” Her thrashing caused the bindings around her wrists to tear into her flesh. Using her legs to break any form of physical contact, she kicked him in the balls. When she automatically flinched, she expected him to strike back, but he didn’t, though he winced at the pain she’d inflicted.

  Even though he didn’t retaliate, the calm of his voice unnerved her when he spoke. “Oh, you’re at my farm.” He gave her a gentle smile and continued, “Hey, don’t be scared of me. I promise not to hurt you.”

  “What? Did you kidnap me?” She asked, her voice mimicking the nervous twitch she revealed when he tried to touch her. “I was nice to you, and what, you knocked me out with something?” Mikayla wasn’t sure what she should be feeling. Her skin paled, and her hands were clammy as comprehension of the situation caused fear to creep into her body. Her voice cracked as she spoke. “Oh, Lord, you’re going to kill me.”

  “No, I’m not going to hurt you. Not at all.” He touched the top of her head, and when she tried to pull away, he shrugged, defeated. “Well, I guess for all intents and purposes, I did sort of kidnap you. But I’m not going to keep you here if you really want to go home. Believe it or not, I actually want to protect you.”

  “Good, take me back to my dorm right now,” she said, frantically. “No, take me to my mom.” She stopped. “My mom ... she must be worried sick. Please, if you are serious, take me home.” If there was ever a lifeline in Mikayla’s life, it was her mom.

  1

  12 Years Ago

  The day after the kidnapping

  Libby

  She stood outside Mikayla’s dorm room, waiting on her daughter for their weekly dinner. Her friends envied their time together, but that was how she maintained a friendship with her children, especially the youngest. She loved Jenna, but she was more independent as the oldest. She adored Blake and was very proud of the accomplishments he’d made at such a young age. However, Mikayla was her kindred spirit. She couldn’t quite explain it, if it even needed to be explained. Mikayla just got her as a mom, and she understood Mikayla’s quirkiness.

  Mikayla never had the stressful teen years when most girls fought for independence from their mothers. She and Mikayla were as close during those years as they’d always been. Standing at just a little over five feet, she didn’t look like she had an eighteen, twenty-one, and twenty-four-year-old. With her slim build, curly brown hair, and light freckles, she looked more like a young mother than that of a woman approaching her fifties with three adult children.

  She looked down at her watch. Mikayla was almost twenty minutes late, and it wasn’t like her daughter. Libby couldn’t be on time to save her life, but Mikayla never let that deter her from being punctual. That is something I got right without even trying, she thought, though she also had her own husband to thank.

  As she heard the side door to the stairwell open, she half expected Mikayla to come running down the hall using one of the same excuses Libby had given for many years as payback. Looking up, she saw Jill Roberts, Mikayla’s lifetime friend, walking toward her.

  “Hey, Mrs. Miller. Here for your weekly dinner date with Kay?”

  She tried to ignore Jill and her stupid nickname. “Yes, that is right. I’m waiting on Mikayla,” she said, emphasizing the whole name. “Have you seen her?”

  “No, as a matter of fact, I have not. I’m not sure I even saw her this morning, to be quite honest, but that’s not unusual,” she replied casually.

  Libby looked at her, surprised she was not in the least bit worried that Mikayla might not sleep in her dorm from time to time. “Why is that not unusual, Jill?”

  “Um,” she started as if carefully thinking out her next statement. “Well, you know, Mrs. Miller, this is college, and there are no bedtimes or curfews. I don’t sleep here some nights either. It’s just the experience. Have you tried her cell phone?”

  In 2005, phones didn’t grace the hands of every person, but her husband, Adam, finally put his foot down against her protest. Now that she was starting to worry about her daughter, she was glad Mikayla had it even though she’d fought the technology for years. Libby continued, “Oh, I forget sometimes we have those now. Mine’s in the car. Can you call her?”

  “Sure, Mrs. M. She always answers and normally on the first ring,” Jill said to her, trying to calm her down as Jill dialed Mikayla’s number. When no one picked up, Jill stood in front of her, biting her lip as she drew her eyebrows together.

  Unable to break her gaze from her daughter’s best friend, goose bumps traveled up her arms and covered her entire body when she confessed, “Jill, you’re scaring me.”

  “Her phone went straight to voice mail, and it never does that. I’m not sure how to explain it. She’s out of class, and Mikayla is glued to her cell because she’s afraid she’ll miss out on something.” Pressing more numbers on her mobile, Jill waited for someone to answer while her lips trembled, and she reached her hand out to the wall for stability. “Ethan, it’s Jill. Do you know where Mikayla is?” She waited for a reply and then said, “No, was she with you last night?” Again, Jill stood there and looked down, avoiding eye contact with a frightened Libby. “She wasn’t here this morning, so I assumed she stayed with you.”

  Libby started asking frantic questions, while Jill tried to hush her as she spoke with this Ethan person who she knew nothing about.

  “So when was the last time you saw her?” Again, a long pause. “Her mom is here now, and she’s not answering her cell.” Again, Jill waited for this Ethan person to speak. “Really? Okay. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  Libby crossed her arms, glancing repeatedly at the clock; every second that ticked by was another without Mikayla. “Who the hell is Ethan?” she asked wildly, her lack of composure out of character. Even the word hell was unlike her.

  “Look, Mrs. Miller, don’t be mad, but Ethan is Mikayla’s boyfriend. They’ve been seeing each other since the beginning of school. Kay wanted to be sure he was a keeper and not an ass before she introduced him to you. He was at the restaurant waiting for you both, but he’s on his way now, just as worried as we are. I’m going to call campus police.”

  She didn’t ask any more questions about this Ethan boy as she slid down the doorframe, collapsing into herself. All she said to Jill was, “Can you call Adam?” Then the world became black.

  Mikayla

  The man who’d bound her was standing above her body with a smile on his face. It was odd she
still found him attractive in this state, but then again, Ted Bundy was good looking too. Mikayla couldn’t shake the immediate chemistry they’d shared, but she tried her best to block it out.

  Instead, he smiled at her again, a mix of the boy next door and the arrogance of one of the kids from those one-hit-wonder bands, which she hated and despised. “I want to make a deal with you.” His candidness and ease struck her as odd, as if they were chummy.

  “What?” She was still groggy and couldn’t trust her understanding.

  He smiled at her again kindly, and if she had to guess, he looked wounded at her tone, which then had her questioning his mental wellness. He was behaving as though they were more than captor and captive. “Well, I’ll take you back home or get you as close to home as I can, but you need to promise me you will stay here for six months. After this time with me, if you want to go back, I will get you there somehow.”

 

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