Chapter Fifteen
Rosie
My stomach tightens with anticipation as Owen holds my hand steady. April only lives twenty miles from the farmhouse, but it feels like we’ve been driving for hours. It’s hard to explain, but somehow, I feel tethered to this woman. Sure, I wasn’t held captive for a year, but we dealt with the same person. We share a similar shame, a parallel set of questions that no one else can understand.
Owen turns right and we wind up the old dirt road toward the little craftsman style house at the end of the lane. It’s a cute place on a small lot surrounded by trees and berry bushes. There’s an oak in the front yard with a tire swing blowing back and forth in the wind, and two people sit on the front porch in worn white rockers as though they’re expecting us.
I stare at the house for a long moment, wondering how the scene could look so peaceful given what’s transpired in the last twenty-four hours. The flowers are blooming, birds are singing, and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. “Are you coming with me?”
“You want me to?” Owen squeezes my thigh gently, his gaze focused on me.
I hadn’t thought this part through. I want him next to me. I want him holding my hand, reminding me that he’s right there and I’m okay, but I know it would be hard on April to have some strange man around right now. “It’s probably best if I do this on my own.”
Owen nods as he pulls up in front of the house, tires crunching the stones in the driveway. “I’ll wait right over here in the truck. Don’t leave the front porch, okay?”
Normally, I’d push back if a man were trying to tell me where to stand or what to do, but I know he’s only trying to protect me, and from now on, I’m going to be insanely thankful for that. Leaning over, I kiss his lips softly, drag in a deep breath, and step down from the truck, trying to settle the knot that’s built in my stomach.
“Hey.” April’s mother stands from the rocker and meets me at the edge of the porch. She’s older with long gray hair, and her face tells the story of a woman who’s confused and broken. She leans in, and with a low tone says, “I’m so glad you’re here.”
I reach out toward the woman, then hold her soft hand in my own. I hadn’t thought about the exact words I’d say, or how I’d say them. I should have. I really should have.
“Thank you for having me,” I manage, my throat closing as I speak. I’m not sure why this is proving to be so difficult.
Her mom nods and steps inside the house, letting the screen door slam closed behind her.
April jumps, and I get my first glimpse of the broken girl I could’ve been.
“Sorry!” her mom cries. “It’s a habit. Just the door.”
Maybe this was a mistake.
“Hi,” I manage as softly as possible, sitting in the rocking chair beside her. “I’m—”
“You’re the other girl. Rosie, right? The one he bid on.” Her face is sunken as though the weight of life has carved out pieces of her. Her orange hair is tied back with long flyways blowing in the breeze. She looks frail. Frail and exhausted.
“He talked about me?”
She nods and leans in. “A lot, like every night. He’d talk about how excited he was to deflower you. He had this whole ceremony he was planning with candles and music, and I was supposed to watch.”
“Watch?” I swallow hard, and for a second, I wonder if maybe she has Stockholm’s. Maybe she misses him. Maybe she was looking forward to this weird night of sex. Then again, maybe the situation made her jealous of me and my being here is only causing her more pain.
“Yeah. It’s fucked up, right? He was planning to hold you with me. He’d show me the videos you made for him on Fantasy Driver, and he let me read your profile.” She shrugs. “I wasn’t looking forward to you getting trapped with me, but I was looking forward to not being alone.”
My heart squeezes tight and the breakfast I had earlier pushes up my esophagus. “I get it. That’s not fucked up. It’s survival.”
She pushes a tear off her face. “It’s weird to see you like this, in real life. The cops told me what happened. Are you okay?”
“I don’t know. I had to see you. I can’t explain it. It’s like the second I saw your picture, there was this connection. I had to meet you.” I reach out for her hand, noticing her nails are bruised and worn as though she’s been working them over.
“Yeah,” she stares down at them, and I feel bad for having looked, “there was a board near the bed that was giving light to the outside. I tried prying it up every single day.”
Anger pushes up my throat as I think about the torture she must have gone through at the hands of that piece of shit asshole. The cop that stood in plain sight every day on my way to work. The man I smiled at. The man Jen and I thought was kind of hot.
I want to vomit.
“I’m so sorry. He’s—”
“He’s going to prison for a long time, and I’m happy to be home.” She smiles softly. “All of that is because of you.”
“No. I didn’t do anything. I would’ve gone out there. I—”
“You didn’t, though. You didn’t go, and from what the cops told me, it was you that held the gun to his head. Please tell me you got your money.”
I glance down at the cracked pine floor on the porch. “That’s why I’m here.”
She narrows her brows and tilts her head to the side. “You didn’t get it?”
I pinch my lips together and stare toward her. “I got paid, but it was sort of unconventional. I had a gun to his head and… anyway, that’s why I’m here.”
Her face lights up. “Oh my God! That’s the best thing ever. What did he do? I’d have loved to see fear on that guy’s face.” There’s enthusiasm in her voice when she speaks, and I believe what she says. Hell, I wish I remembered the look on his face.
“That whole thing was an out-of-body experience. I went to bed for like sixteen hours after it happened, but… I’m here because I want to offer you the money.”
Faint shadows crease under her eyes. “Why would you do that?”
I hadn’t realized that this might sound insulting until right now. Maybe it’s rude to assume she’d want the money. I mean, she’s been through hell and back. Three hundred thousand isn’t going to make any of that better.
Shit.
“You endured that man over a year, and I’m sure you didn’t get any of your payout. I… I just thought you deserved it.”
Her eyes grow dark with intensity. “He pressed the button, then took my bank card, and withdrew the money he ‘ paid.’ I’m sure that’s what he used to pay you.”
My stomach turns. “Oh my God. Well, it’s all yours. The money is… I don’t want it.”
“No,” her stare softens, “ Fantasy Driver called this morning and offered me a payout so I wouldn’t sue them. It’s okay. You earned your money too. Trust me.”
“A payout?”
Her oversized sundress blows in the breeze. “Yeah, I know I could sue them and probably make monster bucks, but the news is already sharing my story. I’ve got reporters calling me for book deals, and if someone Google’s Fantasy Driver, this story is going to show up. Plus, I don’t think I could ever shut a place like that down. The settlement comes with a promise that they’ll upgrade their background checks and create a wellness program where folks have to check in after they’ve left the meetup, or the company will call local law enforcement with a location. Those are the kinds of changes I’m excited about. I want to stop this from happening again.” She smiles accentuating the sharp line of her cheek bones. “Five million dollars will definitely change my life.”
My throat tightens. “Five million dollars?”
“Five million.” She continues rocking back and forth. “I think we’re going to move further into the mountains. I need a break from people for a while, but you’re very kind to come over and offer me your money.” She stands and holds out her thin arms for a hug. “I hope we can stay in touch, and I don’t know… maybe be friends.”
I squeeze her gently and release the hug. “I’d like that, a lot.”
“Good,” she says, reaching for the screen door with a twitch in her right shoulder as though her body is holding memories she hasn’t fully released. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you soon.”
“Same,” I say, stepping off the porch and onto the gravel driveway.
She grins wide and steps into the house. “Stay safe out there.”
“You too.” My stomach is still tight as I walk back toward the truck.
The second he sees me, Owen hops out and makes his way around to my door, helping me up inside the truck with his big, strong hands on my hips. “You accomplish what you came here to do?”
I lean into his lips and kiss him deeply, breathing him in. “She’s getting a settlement from Fantasy Driver. Five million dollars.”
“Oh shit.” He laughs under his breath and closes the truck door as he makes his way around to the driver’s side. “So, I’m assuming you kept your payout then?”
I nod. “I still feel a little guilty about it, but the guy was going to do the same thing to me. I mean, he was at Moose’s house, and he’d been showing her videos of me. I feel so stupid, Owen.” Tears stream down my face in quick succession. “If you hadn’t kidnapped me, I’d have been right there in that shed with April.”
“You’re not stupid, Birdie. You were doing what you thought you had to do. You couldn’t have known it would turn into this.” He snuggles me close as he pulls out of the driveway and heads toward the main road. “You’re safe now. I promise.”
It’s hard to give myself permission to feel bad when April had it so much worse, but there’s something terrifyingly eye opening about a brush with something so dark.
I lean against Owen’s shoulder and close my eyes as the weight of the morning catches up to me. His arm shifts and wraps around me as I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I’ve sat in the passenger seat beside him hundreds of times before, but never like this. Never so close, never so warm, never so safe.
The world outside blurs in streaks of lines and shadows as we wind around the mountain back toward the farmhouse where our family waits. I know I should stay awake and keep him company, but my eyelids are heavy, and here, in this small, quiet space with only the sound of his heartbeat, I feel at peace. After all this, peace feels pretty damn good.