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My moans and grunts of pain don’t deter the asshole as he drags me across the floor, not giving me any time to recover. Opening a door off the foyer, the bastard practically throws me into the room and I slide across the wooden floor. I lay there motionless, doing my best not to pass out from the pain my adrenaline no longer masks. Okay, Lizzie, get yourself together, I say to myself as I scan the room to assess my surroundings. I’m in an office with a huge marble desk, two chairs, and a couch. Dragging my body across the floor toward the desk, I freeze like a deer in headlights when the door opens and a voice that I haven’t heard in years calls me by the name that occasionally haunts my dreams.
“Bethie, I see you still know your place in my presence.”
My past comes roaring back like a lion and my surroundings morph into the room I spent seven years of my life in as a prisoner. Bars adorn each window, chains and cuffs secured to the bed, being forced into submission, it all comes flooding back like a tsunami. The father took me, kept me, raped me, and punished me. The son, worse than the father, silently tortured me in secret. Threatened into obedience in order to save my life and now that same monster hovers over me, whose presence causes me to shake so badly that my bones rattle. Vincent was evil, but Maximillian Black is the devil incarnate. It’s then that another thought hits me with the force of an out-of-control train…This monster has my daughter.
“Where is my daughter, you fucking bastard? What have you done with her?” I demand as I regain my composure and get to my feet.
“Is that really how you want to talk to me, Bethie? Knowing that I have your little girl and knowing who raised me should tell you to behave or bad things might happen. By the way, she is the most adorable little thing I’ve ever seen. Quite feisty like her mother.”
Closing my eyes, I try to regain my composure as I recall catching glimpses of girls younger than me in the hallways and worse, hearing them scream for their lives.
“Don’t call me that you sick son of a bitch and if you lay one hand on my daughter, I’ll fucking kill you!”
“You mean the same way you killed my father?” He asks as my eyes go wide with shock. “Judging by the look on your face, you must be wondering how I know about that.”
There’s only one way he could know that I was the one who killed Vincent. Zeke’s words from earlier come to mind like a flashback in the movies .. “taking the girl wasn’t part of the plan” and anger surges through me like a wildfire. I have to force it down so I won’t kill this mother fucker. I still don’t know where Harper is and even if I did, I wouldn’t get out of here alive if I act too quickly.
“So, is this some sort of revenge for killing your father?”
“No. It’s quite the opposite, Bethie. My father lost focus after you escaped and started making deals with low lives that brought us trashy merchandise that sold for pennies compared to what we made before you left. The last straw was striking a deal with a biker who’d come to Vegas looking for a good time. My father ran his mouth too much and Zeke overheard a conversation he had no business listening in on. He promised my father he could supply quality merchandise for a decent cut of the profit.”
I think back to when women started disappearing from the Boobie Trap when the Devils started hanging out there more. Max talks about them like their lives are meaningless and I have to reign my anger in again.
“What he failed to realize is, getting the merchandise all in one place, put us at risk and it was just a matter of time before the FBI came snooping around. When you escaped and contacted your family, they swooped down on Vegas like vultures trying to figure out who took you and instead of laying low for a while, my father’s anger from your escape caused him to make bad decisions that cost us a lot of money.”
If I had only told the FBI everything I knew when they came to Iron Forge to ask me questions about the years I was missing. Having to recall what happened to me was too much and I chose to block it out as if it never happened. I was still so young and in my ignorance thought that was the best way to let go of my past. The only thing I told them was that I was in Las Vegas but couldn’t recall where I was being kept because they had me doped up on drugs all the time. Max’s voice brings me back to the present as he continues to speak,
“I couldn’t stand his weak, pathetic ass any longer, so you did me a favor by killing him. The only problem was I had to report him missing when people he owed money to came looking for him. I had to pretend to be the grieving son that didn’t know his whereabouts and had been searching for him. That of course meant nothing to them. They wanted their money. I spent years rebuilding our business and paying off his debt. Imagine my surprise when I was watching the news one day and the new presidential candidate’s, Senator Merrick Hart’s oldest daughter got married and how the family had just returned from Iron Forge, Oregon celebrating with their long-lost daughter. His publicist released a statement and a picture of the happy family, all smiles without a care in the world.”
There weren’t supposed to be any pictures released to the press. My parents wanted one as a keepsake, but that was it, that’s all I would allow. Nothing was to be shared. My father promised not to use me or my story for political gain. Begging me to go back with them to California for my safety and all the while he is the one that put Harper and I in danger. By not wanting to talk about what happened to me, he never understood the gravity of it all. That these people are monsters that don’t care about the devastation they cause by taking young women and girls from their families. Living a life where rainbows and butterflies exist makes you oblivious to the demons lurking in the shadows. You feel untouchable. I know this because that’s how I felt before I was taken. Surely being transparent, giving the media what they wanted catapulted his poll numbers, but at what cost? If Harper and I make it out of this, I will never speak to my father again.
“What are you planning to do with us?” I ask, needing to know exactly what his motives are. It makes no sense to take us if he’s not here to avenge his father. So, what is his end game? I wish I had never asked this question when he replies,
“You and I had something special, Bethie. We were always good together and the fact is, I missed you. Now with my father’s debts paid and the business running smoothly, we can finally be together like a real family.”
“Are you fucking insane? First, the name is Lizzie, asshole, and there was no “you and me!” You and your sick father repeatedly raped me, shot me up with drugs, and held me against my will! I wished for death every day to escape you. My daughter has a father and he is my husband. If you know what’s best for you, you will let us go, unharmed or you will wish you never stepped foot in Oregon! Now give me my fucking daughter!” I grit through clenched teeth. My patience is running thin and if he doesn’t let me see that Harper is okay, I’m going to lose my shit.
“Such a shame, she seems so happy while playing with her brother. She was a little scared when she got here, but when I told her I brought her here to meet her brother, she felt better. They’ve been playing all day and get along quite well.” He utters nonchalantly as if we’re having a normal conversation.
“Brother? What in the hell are you talking about?” I ask in confusion.
“Oh, that’s right, you don’t know the good news. Well, it turns out we have a son,” he says walking over to the door and swinging it open. “Nicholas, come in and meet your mother.”
Staring at the door as if there’s some truth to his words, my body starts to tremble as a little boy with my green eyes and curly red hair comes into the room. When he sees me, he runs over, jumps into my arms, repeatedly calling me mommy. Instinctively, I hold onto him so he doesn’t fall, but this has to be a dream. He snuggles in close and tells me how he’s waited so long to see me.
“I had to make you believe that he died, but as you can see, he’s very much alive. My father thought Nicholas was his son and planned to marry you. We both know I couldn’t let that happen. You are the love of my life, Bethie and when we found out you were pregnant, I wanted us to be a real family, but if my father knew about us, he would’ve had us both killed.”
Memories of that day come rushing back to me. Vincent was out of town on business the day I went into labor. The doctor having hushed conversations with Max while a nurse tended to me. Me, insisting on going to the hospital because I was in excruciating pain and bleeding everywhere. A sharp pain in my arm from a syringe being pushed into my vein. Floating in and out of consciousness as loud panicked voices yelled, “she’s bleeding too much, we have to get her to a hospital.” Max demanded that they do something as they ordered me to push. Regaining consciousness only to be told that my baby didn’t survive and I may never have any more children. It was all surreal and at only twenty years old, I was naïve and believed everything I was told.
“How? Why?” My questions are incomplete because I’m having trouble comprehending everything he’s saying. This child in my arms is mine and all this time, I thought he was dead. How can someone be this cruel to another person? How could Max think this was okay?
“Okay Nicholas, go upstairs and get your sister while I talk to your mom,” He orders my son as he sits casually in his chair. Bending down, I release my hold and Nicholas runs from the room. His little feet bounding up the stairs at record speed as I begin to pace back and forth, not comprehending what just happened, but at the same time, coming to the realization that evil does exist in this world and no one is exempt from its snare.
“My baby has been alive this entire time and you never said anything? How did you keep this a secret? The doctor said he wasn’t alive. I don’t understand.” My voice is barely a whisper because I’m in total disbelief. I was there for three years after my son’s birth and this evil bastard kept him from me.
“What can I say? Money talks and I paid a hefty penny to keep our son safe from my father. When I moved out of his mansion, it was to get a place for us and I made sure to keep pictures of you around, so he could see how beautiful his mother is. When you escaped, all my plans went to shit, so I decided to raise Nicholas on my own without my father ever knowing about him. You killing him changed all that and I wanted to be free and clear of my father’s debts before we reunited. Now, we can be together with our two children and live happily ever after.”
This can’t be happening, I think to myself. This is all a bad dream and I’m going to wake up at any moment.
