RANSOM (15 page)

   It may have been a while back, and a lot has happened since then, but I have no problem recalling what she said.

   “
Keep an open mind over the next few months of your life. Remember that you have had a very good life, but what you think makes you happy, the things you think you can’t live without, are not what you really need.”

   “He will open your eyes.”

   As I turn my back on the room and pull the door closed, it feels like I am forgetting something, something pretty important. I dismiss it as I walk to the lobby of the motel and ding the bell letting the attendant know someone is at the front.

   The female employee walks in from the side door, toting an overloaded box. A few papers fall out, and I go help her by picking them up and getting the box set down.

   “Thank you. Did you need a room?” she asks.

   “Oh no. Actually…” I stop myself. What am I going to tell her? I really should have thought of what I was going to say to people. I don’t want them to know the truth and go after Lynkin, but am I just going to say I left without as much as a word? Lynkin did send that ransom letter, so I could say I was being held but never saw who it was that took me.

   “Ma’am?” the woman says to get my attention.

   “I’m sorry. Actually, I was just wondering if I could borrow a phone. My car broke down a ways back and I need to call someone for help,” I tell her. “Mine is dead and I don’t have a car charger.” I add quickly.

   “Ok then. Here you go.” She hands me her cell from her back pocket and walks back through the door she came from a minute ago. I look at the screen for a minute while I try to remember someone’s number to call. I curse under my breath when the only two that I can think of are my dad’s and Manda’s. I really don’t want to talk to Dad just yet, so I dial Amanda instead. It rings several times before her high pitched voice comes over the line.

   “This is Amanda—well, my voicemail anyways— which means I’m either otherwise preoccupied, or I just don’t want to talk to you. Leave me a message to see which one.”

   I hit the end button on the phone and dial the number to the last person I want to talk to. My father. My hand shakes a little more with each number I press, with the more I think about all the things I want to say to him. He answers his phone on the second ring.

   “Donavan speaking.”

   “It’s Sage.”

   “Sage! Is it really you? Baby where have you been? Where are you right now? Are you ok?” he rambles out.

   “I’m fine, just come and get me. I don’t know exactly where I am. Hang on,” I tell him and  stick my head back into the lobby and ask the clerk what the address is, then recite it back in the phone.

   I don’t wait for him to say anything back. I hang up, take the phone back inside, and set it on the counter.

   “Thanks!” I holler, but don’t receive a reply back. I walk back outside, sit down on the hot pavement, and lean back against the wall. It seems like I wait forever with the sun beating down on my back when in reality it probably wasn’t more than an hour before a slick black car pulls into the parking lot and stops in front of me. When I stand up, the driver gets out and opens the door for me. He must be new, because I don’t recognize him.

   “Miss Donovan,” he says and gestures for me to climb in. I nod my head and take a seat on the cold leather. I won’t deny that even though I am pissed, it stings that neither of my parents are here. It takes right about an hour to get home. When we pull into the driveway, I realize why neither mom nor dad was in the car to be at my rescue. They were busy calling all the new stations, anything to have Dad’s names in the tabloids, anything to make his business grow even more. I never saw it before, never would have thought my father was such a greedy man.

   “Ma’am, please stay in the car until I open it for you. There is no reason to be fed to the wolves so soon after your arrival back home,” the new driver says.

   I look up at him turned in his seat, and can see pity. “Thank you.”

   He pushes his way to my door and holds it open for me. As soon as I am clear, he shuts it and puts his arm around me, and does his best to keep them off of me. Questions are being shouted, microphones shoved in my face, and I am sure I will be blinded with all the flashes from the cameras. At the top of the stairs, the first person I see is not one of my parents eating up the media attention, it’s Richard. He rushes to me, and throws his arms around me, and lands several kisses all over my face. As he pulls me back into him for a hug, I see my parents from over his shoulder. They are standing in the doorway, watching over the entire scene. Dad has this sad look on his face, almost as if he didn’t want me to come back home.

   “Richard, we assume you are relieved that your fiancé is back safely in your arms,” one reporter’s voice reaches out above the rest.

   He turns towards them, all hovered at the bottom of the stairs. “I couldn’t be any happier to have her returned to me. I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but I won’t question her return.” He looks at me when he pauses, and I swear I see victory in his eyes. I try to pull away from him, but his grip around me tightens. “We will answer a few of your questions before we retire inside so that Sage can be with me and her family.”

   “Richard, I really just want to go in and rest.”

   “Just a few babe, and then you can.”

   “I don’t want to.” I jerk out of his grip and walk up the stairs, past my parents into the house. I push open the double doors that lead to the den and walk straight to the wet bar. I toss a few ice cubes into a glass, grab the nearest bottle, and pour. I hear someone walk into the room and look up to see Dad walking up to the bar.

   “Switching up your lemon drops for something with a little more punch?” he asks.

   I knock the glass back and pour myself another. I need the burn of it down my throat before I say anything. “Let’s just say that I did some changing while I was locked away in the tower.”

   “How… how are you?” my mother stutters.

   “Oh,
ya know, I’m doing just fine. Funny you should ask, because I thought neither of you cared, seeing as you had the opportunity to save me and bring me home, but you didn’t.”

    My father’s hand goes to his chest, and a look of true hurt crosses his face. “My dear, I can promise you that we cared about your safe return home, but I can’t explain to you my reasons for not accepting that ruffian’s demands.”

   “What reason could there to keep you from rescuing your only daughter?” I question.

   “When we received the ransom letter, your father and I both discussed that it was best we not give in to the kidnapper,” Richard says as he enters the room. He walks up beside me, takes my glass out of my hand, and takes a swig. “Thank you.”

   Snatching my whiskey back out of his hands causing it to slosh out onto the floor. I screech, “I didn’t make this for you. And could you
please
explain the reason why you
both
thought it best not to give into him?”

   “Him? So, it was
a him? Was there just one? Do you know who they were?” Dad jumps back into the conversation.

   “I am not even going to give you the gratification of knowing anything that happened. I would hate for you to find out about all the horrors and for you to have a guilty conscious or anything.”

   “Baby girl, don’t be like that,” the man I used to see as my hero says.

   Meanwhile, the one I have planned to marry for over three years says, “
It’s ok, Carl. She is probably overwhelmed and in shock from the stress. I will walk her to her room and we can all talk about how to pitch this story to the press in the morning.”

   I storm off ahead of him and up the stairs. I hear his fast footsteps behind me, trying to catch up, but I refuse to slow down for him. I am so damn mad about this whole fucking situation, about being home, about my own parents not even trying to console me, about Richard rushing a story out of me for the press, that I am actually seeing red. I should be relieved I am home, back to my normal life, but I’m not.

   I push open my bedroom door, and as I go to walk through, Richard stops me by grabbing my forearm. When I don’t turn to look at him, he steps in front of me and grabs my chin. “I missed you.”

   “I can tell,” I smart off to him. I pull away from him, rolling my eyes.

   His hand grabs my chin again but more forcefully this time. “Don’t be a bitch, Sage. You don’t know what it was like on this end.”

   My hand slaps across his face so hard it echoes around the room. “How dare you!
What it was like on your end?
Did you ever stop to consider what I was going through while you sat on your high horse?”

   “Quit being dramatic. Obviously, it wasn’t that traumatic. You’re here, and you don’t seem to be malnourished or hurt.”

   “Get out!” I scream.

   “What? You can’t be serious.”

   “I said… Get Out!” I scream so loudly this time that my throat hurts. When he continues to stare at me like I have lost my mind, I explode. I shove at his chest with all the force I have, over and over, until he is on the other side of the doorway, cussing at him the whole time. “You fucking asshole. Did you ever even care about me? You are nothing but a low down, pawn scum, piece of shit! You portray your name damn well, Dick!”

   “Are you crazy… or in shock or something?”

   “Do you even realize this is the first time you have even asked me anything about myself? And no, I’m not crazy or in shock or something. Yes, of course I am fine, you ass. I’m just finally seeing my life for what it really is… fake.” With one final shove I say, “Now get the fuck out!”

   After I slam the door in his face, I take a deep breath and it is the first time all day that I feel somewhat okay. I mean I am by far not in any way okay, but that felt like a release I didn’t know I needed.

Lynkin

“You’re not my mother, Jen.”

   She looks at me from the other side of the bar and puts her hands on her hips all sassy-like. “No, I’m not your mother,
Lynkin
, but I sure as shit can call her down here.”

   “You wouldn’t do that. Just pour me a damn drink.”

   Jennifer turns and grabs the bottle of my favorite whiskey that she opened for me a when I came in about half an hour ago, and she pours the remaining liquid into my glass. “Don’t underestimate me. I love you, and I won’t let you sit here, downing this liquid courage until you go off and do something stupid. So if you won’t listen to me, I will call in reinforcements if I have to.”

   I roll my eyes at her before I turn up my glass and slam it back down on the bar. “I’m not going to do anything stupid. I am drinking because before long the police will pull up here or at moms to take my ass to jail, and I won’t have the pleasure of getting drunk for a long ways down the road.”

   She cuts me off after that. I went straight to Jen’s house when I left Sage in the motel room this morning. I’m not ready to go crawling back to my mom and tell her the whole long, crazy story just yet. Not to mention that I would have to ask if I could live with her after I got out. If I thought it was bad getting a job after the rumors of me stealing from Sage’s dad’s company got out, it’s going to be ten-fold when I get out of the slammer. When her shift is over at two-thirty in the morning, Jen shoves me awake nearly causing me to fall off the stool.

   “What the fuck, Jen!”

   “Wake your drunk ass up and come on. I am dropping you off at your mom’s,” she says, grabbing me by the elbow and pulling me so that I stand.

   “Um… No you’re not.”

   “Lynkin, stop being a baby, and grow some damn balls. You already said she knows, so what is it going to hurt to just go ahead and get this over with.”

   “Why are you rushing me to do this?”

   “Look, I don’t think for one minute that Sage is going to turn your ass over, but what if she does? Don’t you think you should let you mom in on everything before it all goes up in smoke?” She shrugs and turns toward the exit. “Besides, I have a date.”

   Date? She just said date. “When the hell did you start daring someone? Who is he? What does he do?”