by LLP, Lan
“It’s Dr. Laurent. I have good news for you, Mr. Bradley.” Oh God, thank you! “Miss Ly’s blood test is conclusive. You’re a father,” he confirms. “Congratulations.”
My eyes well up with tears of mixed emotions. Lil, we should be celebrating this amazing news together. You’d already be in my arms and I’d spoil you with pizza again. We’d laugh and then cry. Happy tears. That’s what you would call them. Where are you, angel?
“Hello…Mr. Bradley…hello,” he repeats, pulling my drifting thoughts back to him.
“I’m sorry. Thank you. Can you tell how far along she is?” I ask, worried. Lil can’t handle another miscarriage and neither can I. There’s still scarring in our hearts that hasn’t healed completely yet.
“It’s not definite. She’s either further along than she thought or she’s pregnant with twins. Her hCG level is very high,” he explains. Unbelievable. Jean might be right after all.
“Thanks again, Dr. Laurent. We’ll speak soon,” I disconnect the call with a troubled sigh. The weight of my burden just got even heavier.
“Is Lil pregnant?” Bridgette inquires, keeping her emotions intact.
“Yes,” I answer. The palpable sadness in my tone is inconcealable, but weakness isn’t an option for me, not even for a faint second. Lil’s out there somewhere. She needs me to bring her home.
Bridgette turns around to face me. “We’ll find her,” she tells me confidently, which alarms me.
“How are you so sure?”
“Because we have something in place that can help us,” she reveals.
“What is it?” I snip. I already have enough shit to deal with. I can’t handle any more surprises.
“Please don’t be upset. My grandfather placed a tracking device on her pendant when she was in Hong Kong with you. He was desperate to find my aunt,” she explains. “It has nothing to do with spying on you. I swear. We’ve never tapped into it before.”
“Normally, I’d be fucking pissed that he invaded our privacy. But I could kiss your grandfather right now if he was here.” I pat her shoulder with gratitude. Two tracking devices will surely lead us to Lillian faster. I pray.
“As soon as we get to your place, I’ll have Kevin enable the gadget so we can begin our search. I know it’s reliable. My company has sold hundreds of these microscopic devices to exclusive people around the world for security purposes. No one has been unsatisfied.”
With a sigh of hope I tell her, “I appreciate all your help.”
“We’re here,” Wes interrupts us. “Where should I park?”
“Pull into the side entrance and drive down to the lower level. I have a private elevator to my penthouse.”
Minutes later, we exit the elevator into the wine cellar and then through the pantry door. The penthouse already has an insipid feel with Lil missing. The piano is just a monotonous piece of furniture without its artist. Several of the helium balloons have lost their buoyancy while a few are still floating pertly. The one that stands apart, tugging at my chest, is the pink heart-shape one that Lil stood under last night while persuading me to come to her. My image of a smiling Lillian fades away when I see Luke and John pacing toward me.
“How did this happen?” I clip, demanding an explanation from both men, who stare at me and Wes.
“Lillian wasn’t kidnapped from here,” Luke states. “She drugged me.”
“How do you know this?”
“I just watched the surveillance recording from Sasha’s condo.”
“What did you see?”
“You might need to prepare yourself for the content,” he warns me, stilling my heart from beating. “Or not watch it at all,” he adds.
“How bad is it?” I have to ask even though my mind begs, No. Don’t do it.
“Bad,” he answers concisely and solemnly. If Luke is emotionally affected by it, then it must be horrific. My sanity is slowly slipping away. It can’t seem to grab a hold onto anything that’ll keep it afloat, but I have to find a way. Lil needs me. I can’t be that helpless idiot pacing around and weeping in my nightmares, waiting for her cries to disappear.
“Have you notified Hayden? Is he tracking her yet?” I ask, coming to my senses.
“Yes. He’s working on it now. I also have someone at Sasha’s place, gathering what information she’s willing to share before he hands her over to the police,” Luke replies.
“Carson, maybe you shouldn’t see the recording,” Bridgette advises me. “Wes and I can view it and give you a summary instead of having those images haunt you for a long time.”
“I have to. I need to see her.” I know I shouldn’t, but my heart needs to hold onto that last hopeful image of her.
“Okay, if you must,” she surrenders. “Kevin reported that your two researches have been found and are safely recovering back at BPC. Alpha’s team is already working on tracking Lillian’s necklace. They’ll have her here soon.”
“I pray that they will,” I mumble under my breath.
Luke connects his surveillance device to the TV monitor and presses the play button. Across a sixty-inch screen I see Lillian willingly walk into a death trap. She wanted a confession from Sasha to put Bianca away. What a naïve thing to do. Her innocence is one of her beautiful attributes, but it is also her downfall. In comes Bianca and I know the rest of the recording can’t be pleasant from this point on. My fingers dig painfully into my gritted palms as I hold back the violent beast inside me who’s ready to face the demon on the screen. My gut clenches painfully seeing blood dripping down Lil’s arms as she weeps on the floor. Bianca’s blow to her face is too unbearable. I’ve never felt this kind of anguish eating at my flesh, my mind and my heart. It burns. It wounds. It’s pure torture for me to watch her like that. “Turn it off!” I shout. “I can’t watch anymore of it. We need to find her now.”
Lillian Ly
I don’t know how long I’ve been passed out. I seem to remember only snippets of what has happened. Maybe it’s my subconscious trying to protect me, to keep me sane. My eyes squint open to see that I’m in the backseat with Edison. My hands and feet are bound with my body propped against the car door. Bianca is in command at the steering wheel while Sasha is nowhere to be found. I wonder what they did with her and what they’re going to do to me. My eyes start to flood again, streaming over a crust of salty tears from earlier. I ignore the burning on my cheeks as well as the throbbing pain from my hands. I’m more afraid of what’s next. It’s terrifyingly dark out. What time is it? I hate winter because even 5:00 p.m. seems like it’s too late.
“Hold on,” Edison objects. “Where the hell are you driving us to? We have a specific drop-off location and this isn’t it.”
“We’ll discuss that when I get us as far away from Carson’s bodyguards as possible,” she scowls from the front. “You don’t know anything about his army of guards. We’re fortunate this dumb slut came to us instead of us having to come after her.” Bianca’s explanation shuts Edison up momentarily.
Hearing Carson’s name soothes my agony for a heartbeat. If only I could be in the comfort of his arms, this would just be a sick nightmare. He’s probably worried to death about me. Why didn’t I heed his warning and stay at the penthouse like I promised? I’d save him and myself this despair. Bianca is right. I am dumb. I deserve it all for being so stupid and naïve.
“I’ll have to notify Mr. Montgomery there’s been a change of plans,” Edison hisses, glancing over at me. He’s a heartless SOB, valuing a sports car over my life. I hope he wrecks the damn thing as soon as he gets it.
“Wait. Let me stop the car before you call him,” she insists and veers the vehicle down a quaint country road of gravel or stone. The little pebbles clank along the bottom of the car, knocking back and forth as the wheels rotate. We continue to cruise for a few more minutes before Bianca kills the engine and headlights. All is dismal again.
Edison retrieves his phone from his pocket to make the call, but Bianca cautions him, “Don’t. Not i
n here. She’ll hear everything.”
They both step out opposite each other. In her high heel boots, Bianca races over to the right side of the car to meet him. I can’t make out what they’re discussing, but it’s loud and angry. As elusive and timid as a field mouse, I peep out the lower half of the window to see two writhing shadows disturbing the calm of darkness. Thump. I feel the pressure of a body slam against the car, startling me. I jerk away and coil myself into a ball. They’re struggling and then I hear the thunderous sound of a gunshot rip through my ears—not just once, but three times. Who’s left standing? I don’t know, but I’m praying it’s Edison and not Bianca because I’d have a better chance of surviving this. Regrettably, Bianca climbs back in and starts the engine.
“If you even blink your eyes without permission, you’ll suffer the same fate as that asshole on the ground,” she threatens me with a tone so frightening that even my goosebumps are too afraid to show. I shrink down further in my seat and close my eyes to shut her, my nightmare, out.
Minutes pass before Bianca shifts the car to park instead of shutting off the engine. I glance out the frosted window, beyond the headlights, to see that I’m in a vacant field, void of human, animal or even thriving plant life. I’m trembling so badly that my teeth are chattering audibly on top of each other, but I force them to stop. If Bianca hears them without permission, it’ll piss her off even more and I’ll be dead sooner.
“Get out,” she grits while pointing her gun recklessly at me.
This is it. She’s going to kill me here where no one can witness her crime or hear my cries. After that she’ll toss my lifeless body aside for wild animals to feed on, leaving no traces of me behind for anyone to find. I’m hysterical, knowing I’m minutes away from dying. I don’t want to die. I can’t. I’m pregnant. I want to live and have my baby. Determined, I decide I’m going to fight her to the end. Against my will, I tug on the door handle with my bound hands to open it. My body crashes into the jagged gravel pieces below. It rips into my flesh. How could I forget that my feet are still tied? Ouch. I think I just dislocated my right shoulder, but that’s the least of my worries.
“Get up!” she yells indignantly at me like I’m some stupid creature that doesn’t deserve an ounce of her respect.
“I can’t,” I bawl, rolling on to my back to get off my injured shoulder. “My feet are tied.”
Bianca rushes over with her gun and a pocket knife. Shit. I’m dead. I spoke without her permission. “Stay still or I’ll fucking stab you in the heart,” she threatens as she crouches down to slice through Sasha’s pink robe tie around my ankles. “When I free your feet, you’re going to get up slowly and follow me.” I nod and my mother’s jade pendant falls forward, grabbing Bianca’s attention. “What a beautiful piece.” She covets and then rips it off my neck, scraping the skin along there. I don’t even notice the pain. My entire body is numb after everything that’s happened. “I’m going to keep it as a memento,” she wallows excitedly with eyes so disturbingly dilated that they can only belong to the sickest of all psychos.
“Please. Don’t take that. It’s the only thing I have of my father,” I beg, knowing it’s pointless. She doesn’t give a shit about me or anything that’s of value to me.
“Where you’re going, you won’t need it,” she cackles loudly. Her malevolent voice cuts through my core like a dull blade, serrated and excruciating. There’s no sign of compassion in her callous and menacing face. This is how I imagine a demon would look when he steals innocent souls. She grabs my bloody, throbbing left hand and glares at my ring with scorn before sliding it off my finger. “You won’t need this either. Besides, it’s really rightfully mine if you hadn’t fucked everything up for me.” She slips the ring down her finger and admires it. “See. It’s a perfect fit,” she flaunts, waving her hand side to side in front of me so I can’t miss it.
“I’m sorry I screwed things up for you. I didn’t mean to.” I tread gently on her emotions, hoping to lessen her hate for me.
“You didn’t give him up when I asked you nicely,” she counters, narrowing her eyes at me as she sneers.
“But I did.”
“Liar! You dirty little cunt!” she shouts and slaps my face for the second time, knocking me backward. I hate her. “I don’t know what he sees in you. You’re a cheap whore. You’ll never be good enough for him,” she whimpers, staring down at my ring on her finger. “I gave him two years and he never once welcomed me in his bed. He only touched me when he wanted someone to fuck and then left me alone, but I didn’t care because I loved him. I stood by his side, did everything he wanted and smiled even when he told me our marriage was for his convenience. Can you believe he’s never kissed me on my lips?” She breaks down and sobs pathetically.
For a split second, I actually have empathy for Bianca. I agree she might’ve been treated poorly. I didn’t know that cruel Carson she described and maybe if I did, I might have similar resentments, but I don’t. She’s holding me responsible for his wrongdoing which has nothing to do with me. I wish I can convince her otherwise but I know she won’t listen to me, so why even bother. It’ll only piss her off more, encouraging her to pull the trigger at her whim. My empathy fades as quickly as it appeared when the burning ache in my palms shoots up my arms. God. I’ve never felt this much pain in all my life.
“Get the fuck up!” she growls at me like a mad beast after pulling herself together. “I don’t have all night. I still have Sasha to dispose of.” Thank God Sasha is still alive—at least for the moment. As much hate as I have for them, I don’t wish them dead—well maybe Bianca a little bit. “Hmm…I wonder how long it’ll take Carson to get over you and for me to get him back into my bed.” She purposely thinks out loud, screwing with my mind. Now I want her dead. I pick my battered body off the ground and walk along with her. The wind is bitter as it creeps over my collar and under my coat to nip at my skin. I’m shivering head to toe from fear as well as from Mother Nature’s harsh temperament.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask, not caring that I don’t have her permission to talk.
“To a secret place, nine feet under. I hope you like confined spaces, filthy bugs and complete darkness,” she replies with pure satisfaction in her wicked voice.
“No. Please,” I wail as frightened as I can be. The thought of being locked up in a dark and tight place is worse than getting stabbed a hundred times. This can’t be happening. I fall to the ground like an anchor and refuse to move. She might as well shoot me here.
“You’re one stubborn bitch.” She grabs my bloody hands and wrings them forcefully with hate and vengeance, making me shriek uncontrollably. The pain is so unbearable that I almost pass out. She drags my body another foot and leaves me lying flat on my face. “You have two choices. You can climb down a rope ladder on your own or I can push you over the edge. Choose quickly or I’ll choose for you.”
If I fall, I might not die instantly, so it’ll be even more unbearable to die slowly with broken bones. What choice do I have but to climb down myself? My little sprout might have a chance of surviving if Carson somehow miraculously finds us. At this point, I don’t have any hope of anyone finding me alive. This pit didn’t dig itself. Bianca constructed this elaborate plan for me, so I’m sure she’s thought of all the angles to keep everyone as far away from me as possible.
“I’ll go down myself,” I surrender.
“That’s the smartest thing you’ve done all night,” she ridicules me and then brushes a swell of dried branches aside with her foot. A round lid of some sort is revealed. The wood looks fresh as if it had been cut from a matured tree with sappy veins that run the length of each board. “Lift it,” she demands with the gun pointed at my head. I squat down on my knees and tuck my thumbs under the lip of the cover. “Lift! Damn it!” she grunts. It’s heavy, but I manage to raise it above my head and over.
Peering down, I can’t see a damn thing. It’s an abyss—a gateway to my hell. “Please. I beg you.” My
lips quiver “Don’t make me. I’ll do anything you ask of me,” I weep unrestrainedly. Death doesn’t scare me as much as being trapped down there all alone waiting to die.
“Anything?” she repeats in a sparkling, almost playful spirit, contrasting the hateful tone she’s been taking with me all evening. She acts like she might reconsider her decision.
“Anything,” I agree desperately, wiping the unending tears from my cheeks with my bloody sleeves.
“Will you give Carson up?” She tests, appearing as if she might offer me a bargain.
“I will,” I lie to appease her.
“It’s a little too late. Don’t you think?” Her voice turns hard again. “Since you made sure I couldn’t have him, I’m making sure you can’t either. Good-bye, Lillian.” She heaves me toward the round, swallowing pit, my demise, as I resist her, clutching on to her arms with my raw hands. This would be my last fight for survival. My defiance blows her short fuse even faster. She’s really pissed now. The dreadful air and mood around us is crueler than imaginable. Her bleak azure pupils are barely visible as her lids narrow lethally. Without warning, I feel the sharp point of her boot kick into my back. The impact is excruciating—more than my body can absorb. I can’t physically handle another blow like that.
I give up. “Stop! I’ll go,” I screech and crawl to the flimsy ladder attached to a metal loop. Throwing my body over the opening, I wrap my aching fingers around the rope lattice and descend one step at a time. Darkness awaits my soul. Little by little it consumes me until I finally reach the bottom floor. Now I’m in the deepest depth of its gut waiting to be digested.
“Rest in peace, bitch,” she shouts down before slamming the lid shut to my coffin.
I lower my bottom on top of a mound of unwelcoming, cold earth and hug my arms around my abdomen with my eyes sealed tightly, blocking my fears out. It wouldn’t make any difference if I had them opened. Pitch black is all I see. I try to replace it with Carson’s face and dimple smile instead. It helps, but the silence is unnerving. I start to hum Gerry Rafferty’s song “Right Down the Line,” the one Carson and I danced to on the yacht. He sang the lyrics tenderly to me, opening his heart up and letting me know how much he loved me early on in our relationship. I’m comforted somewhat, but the bitterness of winter is unforgiving. My fingers are not spared. They’re freezing. When I stick them into my coat pockets to find refuge, I discover a surprise in there. It’s Carson’s tie I slid off his neck last night. I pull it out and inhale his scent, my drug. He’s with me always. With our enduring kind of love, nothing really separates us but physical distance.