Stockholm

by Leigh Lennon

  It was time to appeal to his human nature. After living with him for three months, she knew he was not a monster. He really thought of himself as a humanitarian.

  After breakfast, as he stood to clear their plates, she took his hand in hers and said, “Nolan, I really need to talk to you. Can these please wait for now?”

  Nolan was a clean freak by nature, and it didn’t go unseen; he felt uncomfortable leaving a mess, yet he took her hand and let her follow him into the den.

  She sat down nervously, but before she could say anything, Nolan beat her to the punch. “Give it to me, Mikayla. I know you have worked on your opening remarks.”

  She smiled, and that was all she could do. He had really studied her the past couple of months, and he knew her better than she knew herself at times.

  “I want to go home, Nolan. Please.” Disregarding her notes, she spoke from her heart. “I’m ready to admit that I have a problem. I’ve let Blake abuse me for years and dictate my life. He chose me because I’m weak, and it needs to stop. You have filled me with the confidence to face this problem and not hide it anymore. Please let me go home.”

  Nolan narrowed his focus on the silent Mikayla for a long time without saying anything. She wouldn’t be the next one to talk. She was waiting for his response. Finally, he said, “I will openly admit I care for you too much, and the thought of letting you go scares me because I know I will never see you again, yet I knew this wouldn’t last. So let me think; I still really want the entire six months with you, but I can see you are a changed person.” He grabbed her hand and said, “But I don’t want to let you go.” He was pleading his own case to her. “It was never about me in the first place.” He stood and walked to the kitchen to finish the dishes that were surely driving him mad in his absence.

  An hour later, he knocked on her door but didn’t enter, and at that moment, Mikayla knew he wasn’t going to release her. “You’re not ready, not yet. But give it another month, and we will discuss it.” Before he knew any better, a coffee mug he had brought her the previous night was thrown his way and barely missed his face.

  “You are a selfish son of a bitch!” she cried.

  “And you are proving to me right now that you are a spoiled brat, and you aren’t mature enough!” he shouted her way as he slammed the door, leaving her to cry alone.

  She stayed in her bed and didn’t move—she couldn’t. She was paralyzed, and what was worse she now felt completely torn. If she stayed any longer, she might not want to leave.

  Her thoughts drifted to all the conversations they’d had in the past three months. Was it possible it was love or some psychological need that was being satisfied because he had been in control this entire time?

  She loved Ethan—she was sure of it when she arrived here in the middle of winter—but now, could she say she still loved him?

  She hated her brother. It wasn’t until her mind could make sense of all the damage her brother had brought on her did she realize he needed help. Staying with Nolan—or whatever his name was—was not going to make him face his obsession.

  She needed to act like a brat to push him away and hate him, but the more he revealed his nature by how he cared for her, the less she could hate him. His heart was in the right place even though his actions were that of a psychopath.

  Then her mom entered her thoughts. She could never live in this world without her mother. When most girls wanted to stick their moms in the back closet, her mother radiated everything that Mikayla wanted in a best friend. As odd as it sounded, she didn’t have the need for many friends in her life. Jill was the fixture that would certainly see her through, but after Jill, she had her mom, and those two along with Jenna were all she ever had time for.

  In her mind, as much as she tried, and she certainly did try at that moment, she couldn’t hate him.

  She found him in the kitchen an hour later with his head in his hands. “Nolan.” She touched his shoulders, and he jumped slightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Pushing the chair back, he stood with tears in his eyes; a stark contrast to the cocky bastard he was with her most of the time. “Sweetness.” It was all he said, and in a second, he pulled her to him, and she was willing, molding herself to his body. Whispering above her head, she heard him say, “I’m a selfish bastard. I do want the best for you, sweetness, but I want you too.”

  “This can’t go further than here at your farm,” she assured him.

  “Is that what you want, sweetness? I will always do what you want. That is the definition of unconditional love. Your welfare is my only concern.”

  Pulling back from his embrace, she stood to kiss him, and it was not hurried, but she felt the need to taste him and be as close to him as this fucked-up situation would allow. This time, he pulled away.

  “Good night, sweetness. I think we both need some time to think.” He followed her to the room that had been Mikayla’s and locked her in for the night. After she lay on her bed, her fingers thinking of Nolan would be her only comfort.

  Taylor

  Her graduation was nearing, and still, there was no sign of the return of her soul sister. That was how she had started to think of Mikayla Miller. She had a connection with this girl, and as much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, she could feel it. She was happy with that analogy and didn’t have to explain it to anyone but herself.

  In a couple of months, she’d walk across the stage and receive her diploma, then live at home for the summer while she started Western Washington University with early acceptance. She wanted to figure out the obsession better and planned to study psychology to help her explain this manic fixation. Plus, it would fit into her course load for education.

  She had all but alienated her friends. However, the Taylor who was always the life of the party was no longer. She hung around Alyssa more than anyone, and although her parents still worried they weren’t harping on her. A little of the old Taylor returned, but mostly, the selfish Taylor was replaced. She didn’t miss the old her, so why should she try to make her come out from hiding. No, in her eyes, the new Taylor was really the best version of herself.

  She decided for her future to embrace the new and improved version along with the realization that she needed some new growth, or she’d sit stagnantly. With her hands dialing the number and the phone ringing, she wondered what she’d say.

  “Hello?”

  “Amy?” she asked. “This is Taylor Jennings. We met at the library.” As she carried on a conversation with this girl, and they made plans, she turned around to her parents, as a tentative smile formed on both their faces.

  “Sorry, I didn’t think you would mind if I went out tonight.”

  It was then that her life began again. Though she knew she’d always have a special connection to this girl who took over her thoughts for several months, she had to exist in the world. The only way she’d sum it up was that she’d be paying homage to Mikayla finally; living her own life.

  Libby

  It had been years since she did anything for herself. The trip was just a couple months before Jenna’s nuptials and only three months after Mikayla was abducted. Looking at her computer with anticipation, she wondered if this could even be an option. Everyone encouraged her to take the plunge, especially Adam, but could she? What if she was away from the phone and Mikayla called?

  Her counselor told her she was placing unrealistic expectations on herself. The trip itinerary was amazing. Ten days on a cross-country trip from Vancouver to Quebec sounded like a dream come true. It had been years since she left the house for longer than a day trip and for some odd reason, Libby was enamored by the countryside of Canada.

  Fallon’s working theory was that Mikayla was in Canada. With quick access to the country, it was reasonable, yet she was not going to Canada for Mikayla. It was unlikely her daughter would turn up in a country as big as Canada anywhere near Libby. She needed a break from everything.

  Her emotional health h
ad been in question since Mikayla had gone missing. Yet here she was now, planning this trip with her support group, and at that second, she almost felt alive.

  April was going too. The plan of the scenic train trip was for a change of pace. Her counselor highly recommended it for what she called—in her bohemian free spirit way—a palate cleanser. But what if Libby never wanted her palate cleansed? What if she liked the rough and disgusting taste on her tongue?

  All she had to do was put one foot in front of the other and continue to walk. She could do it, but the question was, did she want to?

  24

  Present

  Two months after the first letter

  Libby

  “Do you know if we need to be worried about Taylor and Blake?” Jenna asked one morning as she’d dropped off her girls to Libby for the day.

  With Libby and Adam looking at one another, Adam casually asked, “Why do you ask?”

  “I called over there last night, and Dex answered the phone. Said Mommy and Daddy were fighting, and when I pressed him further to find out more information, he told me he hated when his daddy was mean to his mommy. The sound of his voice broke my heart.”

  Adam, being quick on his feet, replied to his strong-headed firstborn. “I will check on them, honey. Don’t you worry.”

  When Jenna left, her eyes moved to her husband. “Have you thought about having a man-to-man talk with him, Adam? I mean, you two have always had a great relationship, and he respects you. He’ll listen to your concerns and possibly confide in you.”

  “Well, I’m glad that you can acknowledge you have other children to worry about.”

  The blow hit her horribly, and in a way, he knocked her with a brick of truth. However, in the hurt, she walked away without another word to him.

  Taylor

  Walking toward the mailbox at her mother-in-law’s house, she was surprised to see a letter from Canada. Before she knew what she was doing, she opened the letter addressed to Libby. There was no doubt who had sent it, and because of the connection she’d always felt toward Mikayla, especially now, she told herself she had just as much right to open it as Libby did. Her heart literally swam as she saw the contents; an explanation that would help her mother-in-law comes to terms with Mikayla’s choices. Before she could say anything, Blake grabbed her from behind. Her mind was so deep in the letter that she hadn’t heard another car pull into his parents’ driveway.

  “Surprise, honey. You’re right. I need to change some …” But before he could finish his words, he saw the letter addressed to Libby but not before he clearly read that Mikayla had been in contact with Taylor. In an instant, he snatched the letter from her hands and yanked her toward her car where Dexter sat crying in fear for his mother. Without attracting attention, they sped off in her SUV. She leaned over to see him texting his mom, making excuses as to why his car was left in her driveway.

  She had been witness to this anger before, and she was instantly fearful for her son, her unborn baby, and herself.

  He didn’t say a word to her as they drove home together in her car. Inside, after she sent Dexter upstairs to play, her husband started in.

  “How long, Taylor?” he asked.

  “A month, maybe,” she said.

  “And you knew about it?” He demanded an answer.

  “Yes, she gave me a letter.” Taylor realized at that moment that she shared too much with her husband.

  “You saw her? I mean, you really saw her. She’s alive? My sister is alive, and you kept it from me.”

  Cowering away from him to protect the baby inside her, she tried to calm him. “She came to me, Blake. She asked me to share only with your mom, or she’d disappear and no one would ever see her again.” She stopped for a second to think about her next option. His arms came up before she knew his hands were on her.

  She fell at his force but with strength she’d never known in her life she only stared, when she whispered, “She told me you hurt her.”

  Those were the words which stopped him in his tracks as his wife stayed on the floor, crying as a result of his hands. “What are you talking about? Mikayla was my best friend. We had a connection that she had with no one else, not even our mom. Everyone was jealous.”

  “No, you were controlling her like you are with me and like you will be with your sister’s namesake. That is why you chose Mikayla. You wanted a little Mikayla again to control. Well, you will not control me, not for another second, nor will you ever treat my daughter like you did your sister.” She heard little footsteps coming down the stairs and saw Dexter, watching her crying and hurt on the floor, and he watched his dad.

  “Daddy, why are you hurting Mommy?” he asked, his eyes as wide as saucers.

  “Go back upstairs, honey,” Taylor pleaded. “Please, sweetheart.”

  Dexter looked at his mom and then at his dad, and in his three-year-old wisdom, he stood in front of his mom, blocking his dad’s path. “Daddy, I fink you need time out and to be nicer to Mommy,” he said, ready for a showdown with his father. Blake turned, brushing past Dexter, and Taylor’s breathing steadied when it looked as if Blake was not going to take his frustration out on their son.

  With her arms outstretched, she called for Dexter, and he came to throw himself into her arms. “Dexter, buddy, let’s get you to bed.” She picked him up and gave him a kiss on his cheek. “You are my hero. You know this right, buddy?”

  “I know, Mommy. I always be. Do you know why?” he asked, full of wonder and innocence.

  “Why, buddy?” she asked, in awestruck of how a three-year-old might be able to answer this.

  “Because Daddy not good man, and every mommy deserve good man in her life.”

  Taylor wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry at her son’s statement. Tucking him into bed, she realized that she didn’t think her heart could break any further. Then she turned from her son’s bed just in time to feel her water break.

  Colette

  David’s lips were flattened and he’d just slammed the kitchen cabinets. Colette had never seen his face so red. Baring his teeth, he almost screamed, “How could you be this careless, Cole?”

  “I know you are mad, babe. I understand. But I connect with Taylor. I get her fear and her pain. She needed to know that she wasn’t alone. Mom would stop Blake. She’d have stopped Blake from hurting me all those years ago.” It was a constant struggle within Colette to deduce whether her mom knew about Blake at some level or was really that ignorant to his demons.

  With his hands firm on his waist, he walked back and forth on the tile floor. “We talk about everything, and I mean everything. We decided this on that day at the farm where I was no longer Nolan to you, and you became my Colette. I understood the letter you had Maribel deliver. You were careful and methodical, and though you didn’t tell me, I accepted your decision, but this was careless. You gave him access to our lives with this mistake.”

  “I left him to abuse another woman, and now he has a daughter he named after me. Does that tell you something about his obsession?”

  “Yes, Cole, and that is why I’m mad. You put us in jeopardy. This is just not ‘we’ anymore, Cole. We have Elizabeth and Liam to think about. You can justify it ten ways to Sunday, and it’s still stupid.”

  David had never spoken to her like this before, not since he was Nolan and she was so mean to him on the farm. In every day they had spent together since, he had always treated her like his queen. She knew she messed up, and she knew it was stupid to put her family at risk, but Taylor, Dexter, and MJ were her family too. She felt responsible for them.

  “David, Taylor doesn’t have a Nolan to rescue her, not like I did all those years ago. I’m sorry you think I was selfish, and yes, I realize what I did could cause problems for us, but I had to help in some sort of way.”

  Walking over to her, he touched her shoulder, but she tried to jerk away. “Cole, I’m sorry. I just can’t see you ever being hurt by him again. I think I would kill him,” he
said, and she knew he was not exaggerating.

  “I know, but I couldn’t live with myself if Taylor or her kids were ever hurt further by him,” she pleaded as he gathered her into his arms.

  “That heart of yours, Cole, it’s why I love you so much, but, honey, we have got to make these decisions together.”

  25

  12 Years Ago

  Three months into captivity

  Mikayla

  The next morning, she was so confused after the kiss with Nolan along with the mind-numbing orgasm she’d had while fantasizing about him. When she came face-to-face with him in the hallway, she’d slapped him. “You are confusing the fuck out of me, you arrogant son of a bitch.”

  In her mind, she realized she’d really slapped him square in the face, and the pain, though it had to hurt, was nothing from the way he’d looked at her. Part of her wanted to inflict physical agony on to him as he’d done to her. But it was never that simple. Love was never that simple. In her mind, she’d been stripped of the choice to put distance between her and Blake, but then again, she’d never had the strength to choose that for herself.

  Reaching for her wrists, he gently pulled her body into his. “You like it heated, you like it angry, and you like it rough. I’ll take you this way; hell, I’ll take you every way.” Dipping his head to her ear, he said, “It will only happen, princess, when you can accept you need me.” His face was now touching hers. “But you have to admit it to yourself, you stubborn, stubborn woman.” Cupping her chin, he kept his grip not gentle but not harsh. “And unlike him, I will never hurt you. You know this in your heart.” Leaning in to her ear again, he whispered, “You want my cock, but more, you want me ... all of me.” Releasing her, he sauntered to his room. Glancing over his shoulder, he winked, then slammed the door behind him.