RANSOM (8 page)

   When I finally come back to her face, I am so close to her lips that her breath fans against my own. It takes every ounce of strength in me not to rip open her shirt and take her.

   “Dammit.” I grind out and jump off of her, then take a few steps back away from the bed. She sits up, and I think I see disappointment cross her features before her eyebrows draw together in fake disgust. “Don’t look at me like that.”

   “Like what?”

   “Like that didn’t affect you at all.”

   “Oh, it affected me alright. Made me sick to my stomach,” she says.

   “Is that so?”

   Her head nodding up and down is all I need to walk back up to her. I bend over, placing both hands on each side of her, causing her to go back on her elbows. “So me being this close to you makes you sick?” I ask her, dipping my head to where her neck and shoulder meet.

   “Yep.”

   I drag my lips across her throat and up below her ear where I nibble on the soft flesh. When she shivers I ask, “And that. What was that?”

   “Me trying to keep the contents in my stomach down.”

   I can’t help but smile at her for still trying, even though her body is telling me what she really feels. I place my right hand on her side and trace her curves all the way up, intentionally grazing her breast to reach her collar bone. My lips are still on her neck and I can feel her heart racing. Goosebumps jump up across her skin, and I take my chance. My hand goes down her arm. I pull her earlobe into my mouth and while my tongue is doing its magic, my hand is busy doing its own.

   I pull back to look at her with a shit eating grin on my face. “Like I said, be stubborn. Just know, I don’t play fair.”

   It takes her a minute to realize that I have handcuffed her to the bed frame again, but when she does she lets out this low frustrated growl. I just laugh and head to my chair for some sleep.

Sage

   Weeks. I have been in this piece of shit fucking motel room for WEEKS! After my father’s announcement on the news that night, Lynkin decided to go old fashioned with my
kidnapping and do a newspaper clipping letter. He said that it was the easiest and least detectable way to do it. A few days later, my father held another press conference. This one wasn’t all tears and forgiveness. At first, he tried to keep a level head, saying that he didn’t take threats too kindly. The longer his rant went, the louder and redder faced he got. By the end he basically said, ‘Fuck you. To whoever has my daughter, she isn’t worth it. Keep her.’

   It was a shock for me to hear that my dad wasn’t even going to try and get me home. I know him and I have our differences and we don’t exactly see eye to eye, but I at least thought he still loved me. Now I am not so sure. I was a little broken up for the first day or so after the press conference, but then I got angry. So much to the point where I despise having the same last name as him.

   Jen has come by here and there. What’s funny is that all the times she has come by, it has been to check on my or bring me something. Last week, she was my saving grace.

  
In the bathroom, I have just gotten out of the shower when I realize I have started my period. I wrap myself in a towel and crack open the door. “Lynkin, can I use your phone?”

  
“Yeah, sure. Here it is…Not,” he says.

   “Please?”

   “Hell, no!”

   “Look, I just need to talk to Jennifer. Call her and hand me the phone. Please,” I plead.

   “No. You’ll just hang up and call someone else.”

   “Dammit, Lynkin! I need to talk to Jennifer!”

   “Please, do tell me, what is so important that you
have
to talk to Jennifer about?” he asks sarcastically.

   “Just give me the damn phone, Lynk.”

   “Not until you tell me why.”

   He is seriously isn’t going to back down. “I started. There, you happy now?”

   “What do you mean you started? Started what?” he asks.

   “Really? Are you going to make me spell it out for you?”

   I am greeted with nothing but silence as he puts it all together. “Oh…oh shit.” I hear some shuffling around and then a phone is being shoved in my face. I grab it from him when I see Jen’s face gracing the screen.

  
Later that night, after Jen had gone, Lynkin sat at the foot of the bed and looked at me seriously. “You could have just asked me.”

  
“Huh?” I asked.

  
“You didn’t have to call Jennifer. If you would have told me, I would have gone and gotten you what you needed.” he explained.

   Ever since that night Lynkin and I have called a cease fire. My dad obviously isn’t going to give Lynkin what he wants, and Lynkin isn’t going to let me go without it. I would like to think that my father was just angry when he said those things, and that he is doing anything he can to get me home. The more time that goes by, the angrier at my father I get.

   It seems that since Lynkin took me, I have been in a war with my emotions. I find myself watching Lynkin all the time. My eyes just gravitate to him even though I try to stop myself. My insides clench whenever I catch him taking his shirt off or when he lifts his back up and his bicep flexes. My sensible side yells at my weaker side to get a grip. I tell myself that he is the bad guy but then I remember that he takes care of his amazing mother. That day that he doctored up my feet, he was so gentle and caring.
He’s the bad guy,
I tell myself again.

   Then, there is Jennifer. I have come
to really like Jen a lot. She is really sweet and a total badass. The other day, she was telling me how many times she has kicked Lynkin’s ass. Of course, he sat there shaking his head and denying it, but there was a smile on his face the whole time. I fight wanting to be friends with her, because she is helping him.
She’s the bad guy.

   I’m pissed at my father, mother, Amanda, and Richard for not having me out of this situation yet. My dad has always been there for me. He was there to kiss my boo-boos or help me up when I fell. Amanda has always had my back, and I am really surprised she hasn’t somehow found out where I am and thrown herself in here to be kidnapped too, just so that she could be here for me. Richard is supposed to be my damn knight in shining armor to ride in, slay the dragon, and save me, but I don’t see any white horses anywhere. I constantly think about what Lynkin said about Richard and Manda. I keep pushing it down, way down, but it just pops right back up with a smile.
Are they the bad guys?

Sage

“It looks like I’m stuck with your ass,” Lynkin states out of nowhere.

   “Huh?”

   “Seems your father would rather me keep you than let go of any of his money. So it looks like I get to keep
ya.”

   “I’ll be damned,” I reply with a serious tone, but there is no stopping the butterflies that take off in my stomach at hearing him say he will keep me.

   “Oh don’t sound so objective. I think it could be fun.” He finishes with a wink.

   He winked at me. Like, actually winked. What the hell does that mean? He thinks it could be fun? Fun. Realization hits me and I turn my head before he can see the blush that rushes across my face.
Bad.

   “Well, it’s not going to happen. Whether or not I have to get myself out of here, I will get out.”

   “The question is, will you want to go when you get out?” he asks.

   “Of course I will. That’s a crap question.” I stand and walk over to the dresser. It’s sad to think that I have been here long enough to have my own drawer. Jen started bringing me things here and there that I needed. You know the necessities, like regular clothes. I open it up, grab a change of clothes and head for the bathroom for a shower.

   I don’t take my time under the hot water or soak in the steam that takes over the air. I just hurry through washing my hair and scrubbing my body. After I dry off, I put on the clothes that Jen has given me, which consist of a pair of black cloth shorts and a hot pink tank top. I swear, I don’t think this girl has one single piece of modest clothing. I take the towel to the mirror and clear off the fog so I can see my reflection. I don’t even recognize myself. The completely put together woman I once was is gone. Now, I see a woman with no make-up, her hair is a wet mess, and the clothes she has on look like she could care less about what other people think about her. Surprisingly, I like it! I like not having to impress people, mainly my mother. I watch as a smile spreads across my face, and I feel it. I feel that smile way down deep.

   I try to stifle it as I walk out of the bathroom, but apparently that doesn’t work because Lynkin asks, “What’s with the smile? You look like you just saw a unicorn under a double rainbow, lit up by fireworks and covered in chocolate or something.”

   “Seriously? Where the hell did that come from? I think you need to lay off on the late night TV,” I laugh at him.

   “Nah, I just figured that’s in the ball park for the corny shit you girls think of to get happy.”

   “Yeah, maybe when we are little girls. Besides, my smile would be a lot bigger if I was that happy. Hell, I don’t think I have ever been
that
happy.”

   “Come on, you can’t be serious,” he says it like I am a liar.

   “I’m not saying I haven’t ever been happy, I have just never been ‘double rainbows and unicorns’ kind of happy.”

   “You could have anything you desire and you haven’t reached that level of happiness?”

   “Money isn’t everything,” I tell him.

   “Says the woman who has never had to live without it.”

   “Look, I get that people that don’t have a lot of money struggle and it makes things harder, but when you have money it’s hard to tell if people are really there for you, or if they are just around because of how many digits there are in your bank account.” I pause and think about that. “Amanda and Richard are the only two people that I see sticking by my side out of all of my friends.”

   “Are you still in denial?”

   Tell me he isn’t going to go there again. “I’m not in denial, I just refuse to believe the ramblings of a kidnapper,” I bite out.

   He shakes his head then says, “You do remember that I worked side-by-side with your father at his office? The same office that
your precious Richard works at.”

   “Your point?”

   “My point is that I have watched her every single Monday and Friday, walk into his office at four thirty on the dot and close the door. Couldn’t help but hear the sounds that came from the other side of that locked door. And when she was through, she would walk out she would stop at the elevator to straighten her skirt and reapply her lipstick.”

   “Now, I know you’re lying. Dad would never have let that go on right under his nose.” Wait. Did he say Mondays and Fridays at four thirty? That’s not right.  She is supposed to be in the dance studio at those times.

   “He gets away with whatever he wants in that place. Hell, he basically tells your father what to do half of the time.” He clears his throat to continue, “Your father won’t even give up some of his money to get you home and out of harm’s way. Even though I would never hurt you, he doesn’t know that. What does that say about the likelihood of him stopping your fiancé from having a fling on the side?”