Stockholm

by Leigh Lennon

  She didn’t stop. Looking at him squarely, she said, “You ever hit me again or either of our children and I will leave you so fast, faster than a magician can pull a tablecloth from underneath a place setting.” She walked away before Blake could even comprehend what she said, and then added, “You are on your own for dinner. Dex and I already ate.”

  She was amazed at how brazen she had become. She refused to be a scared kitten when it came to her husband anymore. She had no idea how he would react once Mikayla Jane was born, but until then, she’d act as if her bold behavior could last forever.

  21

  12 Years Ago

  Three months into captivity

  Mikayla

  The days were longer, and she knew spring was in the air. Her hope was that her days with Nolan were nearing their end. They needed to. Three months was too long to be stuck with someone. Especially when that person was the only one around.

  It was funny; she didn’t mind him as much anymore, not after she had rejected him in the kitchen. But after she admitted the abuse of her brother over the years, she put up walls, not letting him in. Going home was her mission, the only goal she cared about. Revealing the truth about Blake was now her endgame. He’d placed her in a cage for so long; and though not all of his abuse was physical, the emotional beratement shattered her almost as much, if not more.

  Departing for home meant Nolan would be in her rearview mirror, and she could reunite with Ethan. Yes, this was her plan, and it was a great one.

  Nolan did save her, and she felt a mixture of gratitude and anger toward him in all he did because he pampered her with confidence. He exposed her to the truth, that Blake was bondage in the form of her protective brother. Now, she was ready; this was the day she presented her case to reunite with her family. Funny how she trusted this man who took her against her will three months ago.

  Early in the morning, she’d gotten out of bed to finish the last Harry Potter book when footsteps approached her room, unlocking the door. He was up, earlier than normal, and as he opened the door, she was shocked to see him in just a pair of flannel pajama pants.

  Her breath hitched as she was not expecting to see him shirtless and sporting more ink than what she’d already seen. Trying not to ogle his beauty and the way his pants showed off the V of his abs, she buried her head back into her book.

  “Morning, sweetness.” After the kiss, he’d stopped asking permission to enter her room.

  There was so much she wanted to say, especially about him walking around wearing very little.

  “I heard you moving around. I’ve been up since one this morning—had a lot on my mind.”

  Still fake reading, she bobbed her head up and down in acknowledgement. As he reached for her hand, she slid it away, but he continued to try to find it. Giving up, she looked at him as he obviously had more to say.

  “Sweetness, I care for you. I mean, hell, I cared for you too much in the beginning, and now, I’m not sure what to do with these emotions that swirl around in my heart.”

  Laughing, Mikayla looked at him. “You realize you’re a dude, right? Men don’t talk like that.”

  With a smirk that covered his face, he nodded. “Yes, but, sweetness, you do this to me.”

  “Nolan, this thing you think is happening is not going to go anywhere.” Swinging her hands from his, she wiped her face. “Fuck!” she yelled loudly. “Nolan, so what, I care for you and find you sexy as sin…” Her words trailed off when a silly grin covered his face. “But, Nolan, there is a diagnosis for what I’m feeling.”

  “Don’t say it, not the words, because what we have goes beyond some fucking psychological mumbo-jumbo,” he replied, taking her hand again. “Don’t think, sweetness. Just feel.”

  Turning from his firm form because the sight of his body did more to derail her plan. Out of the corner of her eye, he turned to leave, then stopped and said, “Do you know why I call you sweetness?”

  “No. To bug the shit out of me is my guess.”

  Another deep chuckle escaped his mouth. “No, it was that night in the library when you told me you weren’t anyone special, and I balked at you. I told you that you had to be the sweetest thing I’d seen in a long time, and it was the truth. Thus, to me, you will always be my sweetness.” He started to walk out of the room, and Mikayla put down her book. There’d be no more sleeping or reading.

  He stood against the doorframe, his abs even more pronounced, and Mikayla chose to fight with him. “You want me to choose you; is that why you aren’t going to let me go? You never intended for that to happen.”

  Standing from her bed, she charged him. When he reached to bring her close, it was then she wanted the callousness to enter her heart toward this man. Make me hate him, she often thought. However, she would look around her room and take in the purple items he had for her. The care he went to make her the precious coffee she had to have daily. Not only did he make sure she was comfortable, but he also provided her with her coveted bacon, and he truly cared for her. No, she knew he loved her. And it felt good to be loved and looked after. Sure, her mom did that and did that well, but it was different with Nolan.

  It was becoming impossible to hate this man who was entering her heart little by little when his body radiated the same heat as hers did.

  Nolan watched her as she battled her desire. “I would take such good care of you, sweetness,” he whispered in her ear, causing goose bumps to cover her body.

  She pulled away from him as if she knew he wanted to comfort her. Pushing him out of the doorway, she slammed the door in his face, and then ran back to her bed, throwing herself on it. What was worse, she felt a pain in her heart, pulling her toward him on the other side of the door where she imagined him waiting for her. She hated him, didn’t she?

  He was the reason she cried at night for her mother. This was Nolan’s doing, every bit of it. Nothing justified his reasons for taking her away from her mother, but she needed to see how detrimental her life with Blake really was.

  Dammit. She never wanted to feel anything toward this man. Nothing could make up for the lives he destroyed. Her poor mom was beside herself with worry.

  Her mom loved them all so much; she had to in order to turn a blind eye to Blake. She had to have seen it, really in all her mothering, and Mikayla knew Libby was not a run-of-the-mill mom. Libby wore the label of helicopter mom as a badge of honor.

  In that way, she wondered if her mother really would help. No, she thought, her mom would never allow anyone to hurt her children, even if it was one of her children. That was the question she wasn’t sure if she wanted the answer to.

  But her mind kept wandering back to Nolan, and that was consuming her thoughts. This was not right, and she knew it. She had to separate herself from him. He was not the good guy who only wanted to heal Mikayla. Their many walks and talks couldn’t replace what he did to everyone she loved. No, she wouldn’t allow it.

  She was on the couch cuddled under several layers of blankets when Nolan walked out of the kitchen after he’d finished the dishes. “Sweetness, are you okay?”

  She now found it odd when he called her Mikayla and not sweetness. Smiling at him, she said, “I’m so cold. I can’t seem to get warm enough.” She’d thought he’d make some crude comment about how he could heat her up, but after the kiss, he was more sensitive because it was obvious she cared for him too.

  “What can I do to help you out? I’ll build a fire.”

  “No, when my bones get this cold, the only thing that helps is a bath.”

  With a slight tilt of his lips, that arrogant but sexy grin was back on his face. “That is an easy fix, sweetness.”

  “Really, I can take a bath?”

  “Yes, I have one in my bathroom, and I will even give you some privacy.” A little hint of his desire was evident.

  She’d never been in his room. He left it locked all the time, and she’d assumed all the resources—phones, keys to some sort of vehicle, and everything he ne
eded—were inside.

  Turning the faucet on, he grabbed some bubble bath from under his sink. “Lock the door behind you, but I will be in my room reading. Take all the time you need.”

  “Do I even want to ask why you have bubble bath?” she teased.

  “I love a good bath in the Canadian winters.” Grabbing her a towel, he placed it near the sink. “I’ll be outside if you need anything. Enjoy yourself.”

  “Thanks, Nolan.”

  Turning around, he replied, “No problem, sweetness.” He didn’t offer his company or his little flirting jokes she had secretly enjoyed.

  After the bath, she retreated from his bathroom, circling his room, from his steel gray comforter to the chair in the corner and a ton of books lining several bookshelves around it. “So I get a little peek into the life of Nolan, the doctor who rescues damsels in distress.”

  Closing the space between them, he stood with the two of them almost touching while Mikayla was only in a thin pajama top and long johns. “I can show you more.” His little comments usually confused her, but this didn’t. She wanted more. Ever since their kiss, she needed more, and her fingers at night while she thought of him licking her pussy weren’t doing it anymore.

  “What would you show me?” she asked, leaning into his ear.

  “Whatever you want.” Lifting her chin, he brought her lips to his. “I’ll give you the world. Make the pain go away. Love you as you should always be loved.”

  His words could be enough to make her come, but before he said any more, her conscience got the best of her, and she pulled away from him, leaving Nolan alone in his room.

  Taylor

  A decision had been made. It was a safe decision, one that didn’t make her feel as if she’d be leaving her home or the hold the Mikayla Miller case had on her heart. However, she could relate to something in Mikayla’s eyes in the picture. It was a sadness, but more, almost as if there was a similarity in their spirits. Yes, that was it; it was a connection, as if they were similar, due to follow the same path one day. That scared Taylor to the core, and she hoped she was not doomed to a life where no one knew the hell she was going through, just like Mikayla was in that moment.

  She walked downstairs the day after she announced Western Washington was her first choice, and because she’d already been accepted, she knew full well this was the universal sign of fate in her decision. Her mother was pleading with her dad. “Again, she always listens to you.”

  “What am I supposed to say to her, Ellen? I’m just glad she’s going to school next year at all. I wasn’t sure she was.”

  “But she got accepted into UCLA, The University of Washington, and Oregon State. WWU is great, but I think we are holding her back.” Taylor walked away without confrontation. If she’d learned anything about herself in the past couple months, it was no one would dictate her decisions and happiness.

  Libby

  The wedding plans were completed to a point. Everything was checked and rechecked. Secretly, Libby knew Jenna gave her a lot more say on her own wedding than she would have if her nuptials had fallen during a normal time in their life. Yet she couldn’t remember when they had been normal, having Mikayla part of their family. It was as if Mikayla had always been missing from their life in some way.

  Between the baby girl who she had fallen in love with, Jenna’s wedding, and her support group, she was kept busy, but the ache for her daughter never subsided. She had made some tough heart-wrenching decisions in the midst of rocking Delaney, which she did most of the day while she cared for her. Mikayla was not returning. She wouldn’t be there for Jenna’s wedding or to help with Delaney. She’d continue attending the grief support group. This group, though it was not what she wanted, helped her articulate her grief better.

  She’d made friends with one particular mother whose grief had eaten at her like an ant colony crashing a Sunday picnic at the park. April, a young mom of the cutest little three-year-old, was victim to the selfishness of a drunk driver. Worse still, the man left the scene, leaving her alone with her son while he stopped breathing in her arms. Later, she found out the man was only sentenced to three years for vehicular manslaughter while her son was gone for eternity. What struck Libby as odd was that April forgave the man even though he never showed any remorse. It was hard to fathom. At her very core, Libby wanted the man who took Mikayla to be crucified a painful death. Yet here was April, whose hurt was raw and real, forgiving this man.

  Libby chose early on not to forgive the man responsible for Mikayla’s abduction. Her need to hang onto the anger pushed her to continue to live; vowing justice for Mikayla one day. Her life was ruined, and she sure as hell would wreck the life of the man who destroyed not only her and her family’s life, but also that of her sweet Mikayla.

  She and April decided to meet one day outside group. She was much younger than Libby, but it was a nice change. April had time on her side, which Libby did not. It had been three years since her son was taken from her, and April was the shoulder Libby leaned on. Yet as the mother hen of the group, Libby felt it strange that this younger girl was such a rock for her. Then again, it was hard to think that April was so young and dealt so well with the adversity life had given her.

  Her older friends reached out weekly and sometimes daily, but they had not hauled the road that Libby had. Since this was such the focus of her life, she needed someone who knew where she was in the grieving process, and that person was April. She was her godsend.

  22

  Present

  Two months after the first letter

  Colette

  She’d been back home for four weeks, and Colette knew her mom would still be waiting for contact with her. She recognized this because she’d want the same thing if it were Liam or Elizabeth.

  Liam was playing with a set of blocks she’d brought back from their hiatus to Vancouver. Sitting down with a cup of coffee in her hand, she inhaled the scent of her child, burning it to memory. The little fingers that were tirelessly trying to design the next Empire State Building was an image she’d remember. Sometimes, it was impossible to take the United States out of the girl who now was at least partially Canadian.

  Liam was a wonder, and she knew that her mother had to have watched her just as she stared at Elizabeth and Liam. It startled her within that second that she’d never be the perfect mom. She was bound to make mistakes, but she hoped her kids would show her the same grace that she was certainly not showing her mother. It stopped her dead in her tracks. She had to face this now. Without thinking, she grabbed a sheet of paper and started to pen her thoughts without regard for anything David and she had worked for.

  Taylor

  The phone rang, and the caller ID came up as blocked. That was odd, but it could be someone with a real emergency, and so in Taylor’s naïve mind, she grabbed the phone, ready to hang up on the telemarketer if need be.

  “Hello.”

  “Taylor?” It was a question but with familiarity as if she should recognize the voice on the other line.

  “Yes.” Taylor’s fingers were ready to disconnect the call at any second.

  “Hi, we met at the park a couple of weeks ago.”

  Her hands tingled with numbness, barely able to hold the phone. Before she could speak, her sister-in-law asked, “Are you free? I guess to ask, more free to talk than anything.”

  She stammered her way through her response. “I’m alone, if that is what you are asking.”

  “I just want to make sure you are safe. Are you?” Taylor could tell her sister-in-law was speaking from her own history.

  “For now.” It was all that Taylor could admit, and was the first time she’d said out loud how bad it was with her husband. She didn’t think she could until just then.

  “Taylor, you have got to leave. Take your kids and go, before he can stop you. I will help, I promise.”

  Right then, drawing in slow and steady breaths, she snapped at her sister-in-law. “You mean like you did, leaving yo
ur mom to wonder if you were alive or dead?”

  There was silence on the end of the line for a long time, and finally, her sister-in-law said, “I was wrong, Taylor. Being so young and scared, I’m not sure what I would do again if given the opportunity, but I have a good life here, and I know you could have a good life if you forced him to get help.”

  “Why didn’t you come back and force him to get help, yourself?” Taylor asked.

  “You are stronger than I am.”

  The line quickly disconnected, and she doubted she was strong enough.

  Libby

  No contact after getting her hopes up with her trip to Vancouver. She and Adam were barely talking, though they both kept a vigilant watch on Taylor. Neither Libby nor Adam knew how to approach Blake about possible abuse, so they did nothing.

  Jenna was unaware of Libby’s trip to Vancouver or the visit to the park with Taylor. As she tried to understand her daughter’s reasons for leaving so long ago, her anger was directed to Mikayla and would stay that way until she explained herself; face to face.

  23

  12 Years Ago

  Three months in captivity

  Mikayla

  She studied her notes. She had prepared them as though it was a debate tournament. She’d work for hours on her arguments and was ready for a fight; no matter what stance she was given. After several hours, she felt she could make a good case for herself, as if she had graduated from law school.