Taken (2 page)

             
“Addison, you okay honey?” My mom asks, pulling me from my haze.

             
“What..... Yeah I'm just tired. I think I'm going to go lay down for a little while.” I say, stretching out my arms.

             
“Your room is just as you left it. Go and get settled. I will let you know when dinner is ready.” I give my mom a nod and turn to leave my parents standing in the kitchen. I grab my bag before making my way to the right and down the hall that houses the four bedrooms.

             
My room is the last room on the right and I realize very quickly that my parents have not touched a thing in here since I left. I think a part of them still hopes that I will come home someday.

             
I take a moment to appreciate the nostalgia of being in my childhood bedroom. The cream colored walls are still covered in old photo collages I made years ago, along with a poster from my favorite movie,
Pretty in Pink
. I remember watching that movie at least a hundred times my sophomore year of high school.

             
I make my way to the center of the room and toss my bag on the bed before unzipping it and pulling out the contents. I only brought three days worth of clothing, which should be plenty since I fly out Tuesday morning. Given yesterdays events, I'm not sure if I wish I could stay longer or if I'm regretting even coming here in the first place.

             
I miss Liam terribly and yet it doesn't outweigh the betrayal I feel. Being here, no matter how much it hurts, is probably the best thing for me. I need time away from the craziness of the city, time to gather my thoughts and figure out my heart in a place that holds so much of me inside of it.

             
I can't bring myself to accept that Liam and I are over, though I fear greatly that we are. I'm still holding out hope. Hope for what, I'm not sure. Maybe hope that this was all just some huge misunderstanding and there is a reasonable explanation. As much as I would love to hang on to that hope, I know it's a pipe dream.

             
There's no easy fix to this, no delete button or take backs. He chose to hide who he is from me. I think the hardest part is that I can't figure out why. Did I not mean enough to him? Am I not significant enough to let inside his world, inside his heart? Or is this just who he is? A heartless playboy who will do whatever it takes to land a woman in his bed? The very reason I tried to resist Liam in the beginning, deep down I think I have always known that he would never let me in, not really.

             
I fight back the tears that threaten to spill over, fearful that once I let them fall they may never stop. I know it's not healthy. I know I need to accept that the Liam I fell in love with doesn't exist but I can't bring myself to do that just yet.

             
I make my way to the dresser that sits adjacent from the bed, sitting my phone, which is still turned off, on top, when a picture catches my eye. It's a picture of me and Grayson, probably my favorite of all the ones I have of us together. It was the summer before Senior year and Grayson had convinced my parents to let him take me to Lake Champlain for a weekend.

             
We spent the entire time on his father's boat, laying around, soaking up the sun. To this day, it is probably one of my fondest memories. For a seventeen year old, life didn't get much better than that.

             
The picture was taken by his mom, an action shot that we didn't know was taken until she had developed it and gave us each a copy. We are sitting side by side on a dock, hands intertwined. My face is turned away from Grayson, with a large smile as if he just said something very funny. His eyes are locked firmly on me, a look of pure adoration written all over his face. My heart constricts a little at the memory.

             
I had no idea that this is where my life would be seven years later. The carefree girl from the photo a distant memory to the hollow shell that I have become. I pick up the picture and hold it to my chest.

             
While my broken heart has nothing to do with Grayson, it still saddens me to know that the two kids from this picture no longer exist. It only adds to the pain and the grief that is slowly consuming me from the inside out.

             
I sit the photo down on my bedside table before pushing my unpacked bag to the floor and curling up on my side in the bed.  I close my eyes, wishing desperately that I could sleep so that I can get some type of relief from the pain that is ripping me apart. But it does me no good. Every time I close my eyes I see his face. His piercing hazel eyes, his messy brown hair, the way his forehead creases when he's upset or frustrated. His solitary dimple that only makes an appearance when he's laughing. I can see every detail. The way his eyes sparkled when he made love to me, the way his voice sounded when he said my name.

             
These are the things that are forever burned into my mind. Little moments in time that will always haunt me. Moments where I felt like I was invincible. The moments that led me to the way I feel now. I miss him so much it is physically painful and with that, all the fight leaves my body. The tears flow hard and fast and like I feared, once they start, I feel like they are never going to stop. I hug myself tighter, the sobs ripping through me like a tornado.

Chapter Three

              “Mom, I'm gonna run to town for a little bit. Do you need anything?” I ask my mom, who is sitting in her favorite chair crocheting her latest afghan. The colors are bright and don't match a thing in the house. Sometimes I wonder why she wastes so much time making them when they all end up in the attic anyways. She used to always say that she found peace in it. That no matter what was going on, she could pull out her needle and thread and lose herself in the patterns.

             
I never fully understood it, nor did I ever care to learn how to do it but it makes her happy. I sometimes wish I had something, anything to lose myself in. Something to take my mind off of, well, everything. But I have always been my own worst enemy and dwelling on things is my specialty.

             
“No dear, I'm good. Don't forget dad's taking us to dinner at Lazarrios tonight so don't be out too long.” She says, before turning her attention back to her work. While I don't feel up to a family outing, I love Lazarrios and since it's a local, family owned pizza diner, one doesn't exist in Las Vegas.

             
I hop in my dad's black Cadillac CTS and fire up the engine. He's never let me drive it before so I shift into reverse and back out of the driveway slowly, being way too cautious entering the street.

             
Once the stretch of road is in front of me, I push down on the gas and listen to the engine purr under the accelerated speed. I used to love driving the country roads. Seeing nature stretched out in front of me. Nothing holding me back. It was one of the rare times growing up that I felt free.

             
It doesn't take me long to reach the city. Montpelier is a beautiful city but so much different than most. For one, it's extremely small in comparison to other state capitals, housing less than ten thousand people. I always loved living here. Having the luxury of city living without the hustle and bustle of a major city, like Las Vegas.

             
I pull into a small parking lot and put the car in park before powering off the engine. I don't have a real plan. I just know I wanted to get away for a little bit. Maybe visiting some of my favorite places from when I was a child will help lift my spirits, though I'm not holding my breath.

             
I exit the car and make my way onto the open sidewalk. The breeze hits my face just right and I close my eyes, breathing in the comfort, the smell of home, my hair whipping around my face. While Vermont is not my home anymore, a piece of me will always be here. This is where I learned to live, where I learned to love.

             
“Addison Grant is that you?” I hear a shocked gasp and quickly open my eyes to find one of my oldest friends, Christy, standing just two feet in front of me. It takes a moment for my mind to process what my eyes are seeing. She's still the same pretty girl with a round face and brown bob but her belly indicates she's certainly expecting and the toddler at her side tells me this is not the first.

             
“Christy. How are you?” I ask. “You're a mom?” The question comes out a little more offensive than I meant for it to.

             
“I'm a mom.” She says shrugging, a wide smile across her pretty face. Her brown eyes sparkle in the early afternoon sun and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that for her, this is a good thing. “This is Trevor.” She says, reaching down to run her fingers through his white blonde hair. The toddler looks up at me and the moment his baby blue eyes land on me, my heart melts.

             
“Hi Trevor. It's nice to meet you. I'm Addison.” I say, bending down to shake the little boys hand. He hesitantly reaches out before letting my hand swallow his tiny little fingers. I linger there for a moment, taking in this tiny little beautiful creature. I've never been around children much, especially being an only child but I realize now, looking into this little piece of heaven, that I wish had.

             
“He's beautiful.” I say to Christy, straightening back up to meet her gaze. “Who's the father?” I ask, hoping that it's not a sensitive topic. Knowing Christy's past, it wouldn't surprise me if baby number two was not the same man.

             
“Nick Peters. Remember him?” She asks. The name brings a memory instantly to my mind. A tall, skinny, blonde haired boy throwing gum in my hair in the second grade. Oh yes, I remember him but not for his constant picking on me. Nick was one of Grayson's best friends and thus was involved in a lot of my high school experiences.

             
I nod but don't elaborate. “Well we started seeing each other not long after high school. I guess you could say that things escalated quickly, hence.” She says, reaching down to pat Trevor on the head. “Anyways, long story short. We got married while I was pregnant with Trevor and now this little one.” She says, rubbing her hand across her swollen belly. “She's gonna be a dancer.” She says on a smile. “She kicks the crap out of me.”

             
I can't contain the laugh that comes from my throat. It's refreshing to see her so happy, so satisfied with her life. If you had asked me five years ago what would make me happy, I would have said I wanted the life she has, only with Grayson. Even though we had bigger and better places to go, I truly always envisioned us coming back here one day. Getting married, starting a family. But I was a kid then and things change.

             
I involuntarily shake my head when Liam pops into my mind. What kind of future could I have with him? Would he ever want to settle down and get married, have children? It saddens me that I feel so strongly about him and yet I know next to nothing about him. His hopes, his fears, his deepest desires. All part of the mystery surrounding the one man that changed my life.

             
“What about you? How's Grayson?” Christy asks, pulling me from my mind. I stare at her wide eyed for a moment before realizing she must have no idea.

             
“We broke up.” I say, not missing the surprised look that flashes across her face before quickly disappearing.

             
“I had no idea. Are you okay? When did this happen? I thought you two were forever.” She says in a rush.

             
“It's been almost four months. We grew apart. I stayed in Las Vegas but he moved back home not to long ago.” I say as if it's nothing.

             
“I didn't know Grayson was home. Surely one of the girls would have mentioned seeing him. He was, after all, the hottest guy in high school. I can't imagine the girls not jumping at the opportunity to drool over Montpelier High School's famous Grayson Pierce.” She says on a laugh.

             
“I didn't realize he was the topic of conversations.” I say, thinking back to a time when we all used to hang out.

             
“Many conversations. You were the envy of a school full of girls.” She says, reaching down to pick Trevor up and prop him on her hip.

             
“Well, good to know.” I say on a small laugh. “Well if you see the girls, tell them he's fair game. If he hasn't been around then that means he's hiding out at his parents, in which case, I would say he could rather use some company.” I plant the seed unintentionally but then realize it's probably not a bad idea.