32. Kidnapped Again
32
KIDNAPPED AGAIN
Dahlia
The Present
New York City
I spend the entire day sulking in my bedroom and when the sulking isn’t enough, I go into my closet and dig out my keepsake box from where it’s hidden behind shoes, clothes, and garment bags, hoping that a good cry will help set me straight.
Everything from the last seven years is in this box, starting from my first New Year’s Eve trip with Karina after I turned eighteen. I’ve kept every plane ticket, receipt, tourist trinket, polaroid photo, and hotel key, all neatly organized in folders or smaller boxes. Whenever we went on vacation, we’d always bring a few disposable cameras with us because halfway through our first trip, our phones died when we were visiting Lake Como. Aside from being stranded and without chargers, we were more pissed over the fact that we couldn’t take any pictures. Luckily for us we stumbled into an old convenience store that doubled as a tourist trap and we spent thirty euros on the last kodak they had in stock. Best thirty euros we ever spent.
I look through the photos of our trip to Italy and there’s a picture of me smiling in front of the Trevi Fountain while holding up an almost empty bottle of limoncello. Judging by how my clothes are still dry this is likely from before I jumped in.
God, I look so young. Not to mention thin. Eighteen was probably the worst year for me as my falling out with Lyss and my father walking out on me had happened back-to-back. Not long after I started my freshman year of college and was thrust into adulthood without guidance or anything to fall back on. I’d never been so broken or vulnerable before in my life. I wasn’t eating or sleeping and started spiraling out of control. In college, I’d had a reputation for being one of the only party girls who could drink all night and still show up to her eight a.m. lecture with a washed faced and combed hair. Even still, it was almost impossible for me to make friends.
No matter how hard I tried the friendships never stuck. Everyone moved through my life like a revolving door—friends, classmates, hook-ups, the occasional short-term boyfriend—and I felt so isolated. Karina had proposed our first vacation as a way to help get my mind off things. The next year was because I was spending a little too much time with the wrong crowd and a lousy boyfriend and Karina dragged me to Paris with her. The year after things had finally begun to simmer down and we hadn’t planned another trip. Not until we both binge-watched all of Downton Abbey together over Thanksgiving break and decided if we didn’t go to England, we would simply die.
From then on it became tradition. I didn’t feel the need to build other relationships outside of Karina because what we had was enough for me, even after Brent entered the picture. To his credit he always respected our winter trips and may have been obnoxious with the phone calls but never tried to impose on us. At least, not until he randomly decided he wanted a New Year’s wedding, forever ruining the holiday for Karina and me. We fought about it for weeks but deep down, I knew it was a losing battle. Brent made a show of his money that year and said if it was really such a big deal, he’d help pay for our trip. And Karina in her guilt decided backpacking through Europe for the summer was a good idea.
I think Karina knew too…that it would be the last trip we’d ever take. She wanted to make it special and worthwhile and in the end, I suppose it did change our lives. Mine at the very least.
Tucked against the side is a satchel with the word Barcelona embroidered across the front. I pull it out from its hiding place and go through the keepsakes inside. There are boarding passes for Karina and me but none for our return flight because that year, we didn’t go home together and we never finished the rest of our trip.
I got the photos developed the September after I got home. Karina and me at La Sagrada Familia, Karina and me at Park Guell, Karina and me at the beach, Karina and me in the Gothic Quarter. Then the photos aren’t of Karina and me anymore.
It’s Karina, me, and Diego eating dinner at the lounge. It’s Alejandro and me standing in front of El Món Neix en Cada Besada, a mural in the quarter. It’s Karina and Diego sitting on a boat presumably arguing over the Uno cards on the table in front of them.
And then it’s Alejandro and me on what was supposed to be my last night in Spain. Diego must’ve taken the photo because Lettie is a blur of white hair in the background, the flash from the camera casting half her face in shadow. I wish I could go back in time and shake the girl in the photo. Smack the stupid, shy smile off her lips and strangle the man next to her who’s kissing her cheek and holding her close. In fact, I think I want to throttle them both for being so stupid.
I hate them. I hate them so much. Their happiness has an expiration date. One day, a year later from when the photo is taken, it’ll be the beginning of the end for them. They’ll both make mistakes, both hurt each other, both ruin everything that was once good and happy and beautiful.
“Dee?”
I startle at the sound of my door opening and Lyss hesitates at the threshold, retreating to the safety of the hallway. “Sorry, I was checking on you.”
“It’s fine.” I drop the stack of photos into the box and move onto the next. “You can come in.”
Lyss doesn’t enter immediately. She grips the doorknob and tiptoes inside as if entering a sleeping infant’s nursery. I continue my perusing and she sits on the floor with me but not before turning on another lamp for more light. The sun sets so quickly during the winter and I’m tired of the darkness.
“You’re wearing your necklace today,” she says in an attempt to start conversation.
“Matched my outfit.”
She glances at the box between us. “Going through your old vacation stuff?”
I shrug. “I was bored.”
She notices the Barcelona satchel and lifts her gaze. “How bored?”
Photos from the earlier days of the renovation stare back at me but I can no longer meet the eyes of the smiling version of myself. The one with paint on her cheeks and wood stain on her fingertips. “How’s your dad?”
“He’s fine.” She folds her legs and wraps her arms around herself, hugging her knees against her chest. “I was in the hospital with him all day.”
“I can go with you to?—”
“No,” she gives her head a firm shake. “Trust me, he wouldn’t want anyone to see him this way. He doesn’t even want my mother and me with him.”
“Is there anything I can do to help? Aside with any medical bills. You know that’s a given.”
She gives a small smile. “Trust me, Dee, you’ve done more than enough.”
I’m not sure what to say but Lyss is able to break through the silence with ease.
“Want to tell me about what’s going on up there?” she taps her temple. “I haven’t seen you this focused since we were cramming for our SATs.”
“At least now I can use recalcitrant and defenestrate in a sentence.”
“Is it about Alejandro again?”
“If that’s the turn this conversation is going to take, I’m going to defenestrate you out the window.”
“That’s redundant. Defenestrate already means to ‘throw out the window’. The proper use of the word would’ve been ‘I’ll defenestrate you’.”
I can’t help but smile. “Smartass.”
“I’m serious.”
“I don’t want to talk about him. All I do is talk about him and think about him and argue with him?—”
“Do you love him?”
I throw my arms up in frustration. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“Likely because you keep refusing to answer which tells me that you do.”
“I do not?—”
“Dahlia.”
Lyss tilts her head at me. Lifts a brow. And in her infuriatingly disarming way, she forces me to confront a truth I’ve been spending the last year trying to outrun.
I do love him.
I have always loved him.
“It’s a difficult thing to come to terms with; knowing you love someone who is no good for you and whom you’re no good for. Alejandro keeps trying to convince me we can be saved but there’s nothing here worth saving.”
Lyss says, “He’s going to keep chasing after you until you give him a reason not to.”
“Eventually, he will. It’ll take him time to come around to it because he’s loyal and he loves deeply. But he’ll realize I’m right and when he does, he’ll let go in his own way.”
Like he did with Regina.
“But—”
Her phone rings and she reaches into her sweater pocket for it. She almost puts it away but does a double take when she sees the name on the screen. “Mom? Everything okay?”
For several seconds we hold our breath and I’m only able to exhale when Lyss’s shoulders slump and her eyes roll. “Jesus, that’s what you called me for?” She waits. “No, I’m not mad I just thought it was an emergency! Yes, I’m going. I’ll be there in an hour.”
She hangs up and gets to her feet.
“Everything okay?”
“Fine. Mom’s just throwing a fit because my brothers are visiting and she can’t find the ‘nice’ plates.’” She rolls her eyes again so hard I’m afraid they’ll get stuck in her skull. “Honestly, I think this was her way of roping me into dinner back home.”
“Will you stay?”
“Depends on whether or not my brothers piss me off bad enough,” she replies. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Promise. Go ahead and deal with your crazy mom and her nice plates.”
She drops a kiss on the top of my head on her way out. “Let’s do a movie night this weekend. We haven’t done one of those in a while.”
“We’ll have to let Do?a Ana pick the movie.” I tell her. “We picked last time.”
“Yeah, yeah!” she calls over her shoulder.
A few minutes later I hear her leave. Deciding it’s time to put my memories away again, I pack up my photos and trinkets and shove the box back into its secret hiding place. Afterward, I try distracting myself with a few domestic chores around the house but Do?a Ana has been on top of the cleaning lately, probably since Alejandro has been around so often. It hasn’t evaded my notice that some of my more elegant and provocative outfits have been drycleaned and put at the forefront of the racks in my walk-in closet. Most of them are in colors she knows Alejandro loves to see me in; red, deep plum, emerald-green, and gold.
Persistent and lacking subtlety but admirable. I love her for trying.
I consider heading downstairs to see if she’s home. Maybe we can go out to dinner tonight or catch last-minute tickets to see a show. Then again, she’s been making herself scarce lately and whether that’s because of Alejandro’s presence or because she wants to be alone, I’m not sure. I don’t like to encroach on her personal space and decide against it, knowing that if she wants company, she’ll come seek either me or Lyss out.
I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. Take out my phone to place a call but who do I have to talk to? Partying is out of the question so there goes almost every acquaintance in my contacts. Damiano and I haven’t spoken in a few days which means he’s probably been spending a lot of time with Rian, another person who doesn’t want to see me right now. Which leaves…
Pulling up his contact, I type a brief message.
Me: can we see each other?
He responds less than a minute later.
A: For what?
Me: what kind of a question is that?
A: I don’t have the energy to fight with you today.
A: Any day for that matter.
A: But especially today
Me: is everything okay?
A: Don’t you ever get tired?
I give up on texting and call instead.
There’s a heavy sigh when he answers.
“ Dahlia. ”
There it is.
The weight.
“I don’t want to fight. I promise. In fact, I wanted to see you.”
The other line goes quiet. “Why?”
“To talk. Calmly. Where are you?”
“At my hotel. I’m behind on a lot of things and spent the day catching up.”
“Can I meet you? I could be there in a half hour.”
Tension seeps through the phone as I await his response. Part of me fears he’ll reject my offer when a muttered, “Okay,” comes through.
“Okay…” I whisper. “Text me the address. I’m leaving now.”
We hang up and I head downstairs to grab a coat from the closet. When I step out into the brutal January cold. I’m reminded of why leaving New York wasn’t as life ending as I thought it would be. Winter in Barcelona is more like a mild spring compared to the arctic hell of Manhattan.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and I reach for it.
Alejandro: Here’s the address.
Alejandro: I’m in the presidential suite but we can meet in the lobby if you’d like.
I hit the address he sent but it’s giving me an error message which means he must’ve entered it incorrectly. He told me the name of the hotel but I can’t remember now. Might’ve been The North Star but I don’t want to run the risk of going in the wrong direction.
Me: Hey, I think you entered the address wrong. Are you staying at The North Star? I can’t remember.
A minute passes and no response. I’m so impatient I dial his number and lift the phone to my ear.
He answers on the first ring. “I was just?—”
“Dahlia.”
My blood freezes at the sound of Li Huang’s voice.
I spin on the balls of my feet and pretend to push my hair out of my face so he doesn’t notice the phone in my hand or when I slide it into my pocket.
“Li Huang!” I exclaim with mock delight. “Always a pleasure. What are you doing outside my house?”
Whatever brought him here can’t be good because he isn’t supposed to be back from his trip until this weekend. Does Rian know he’s here? Did Alejandro hang up on me or was he able to hear me say Li’s name and stayed on the line?
Li emerges from a black Mercedes and one his henchmen closes the door for him. He’s immaculately dressed in a long, blue-black wool coat with lacquered buttons and fur around the neckline. His shoes are leather, glossy, slacks dark and custom tailored. Most people don’t know this about Li but he dresses according to his mood and judging by the sharp, clean lines of his ensemble and the austere expression on his elegant face, he’s absolutely murderous—murderous and smiling as if he’s greeting a next door neighbor.
“What can I say? Thought I’d pay my dear friend a visit.”
“How nice of you. Unfortunately, I already have other?—”
A second man exits the car from the passenger’s side. Similarly dressed to the first in all black, both men approach me on the sidewalk, closing in on me so I have nowhere to go.
“Let’s take a ride.”
I keep my expression blank and pleasant. The forced smile is starting to make my cheeks hurt. “No thanks. And tell your lap dogs that if they touch me, I’m going to fuck them up.”
Li laughs with genuine amusement. “I’d love to see it.” He opens the back door to the sedan and waves with a gloved hand. “Come on now, I don’t have all night.”
My options are limited if not nonexistent. Contrary to common belief, I’m not completely helpless and given my height and stature, I could easily defend myself against the average-sized man. The first guard is almost the same height as me in these boots, strong but lean, and probably wouldn’t see a right hook and knee to the groin coming. As for the second, he’s about an even six-foot and has at least fifty pounds on the first, stocky and solid in build. He’d be a little more difficult and if the first isn’t disoriented enough from my attack, they’d both be able to take me down. And that’s if Li doesn’t pull a gun on me which I suspect he might. I don’t think he wants me dead—not yet, at least—but he isn’t above injuring me to prove a point.
The second goes to grab my arm and I smack his hand away. “Touch me and I’ll bust your teeth in. I can walk.”
He looks to Li for guidance and Li bows his head slightly, granting his permission. I approach the car myself and Li opens the backdoor, placing a hand between my shoulder blades to guide me instead. Another one of his power moves; weaponizing physical touch in order to intimidate.
“I can’t stay long,” I say, keeping my voice casual. “I’m assuming you need something from me.”
“Just the pleasure of your company.”
His henchman sit up front and I watch them make eye contact through the rearview mirror. Li flicks his chin and the driver nods before pulling out of his parking spot and making his way down the street.
“Where we going?” I ask.
“Around.” Li glances out the window. “We could do a little sight-seeing.”
“I’m a native. There isn’t shit I haven’t already seen.” I plaster on a saccharine smile. “Do you mind? I have plans for tonight.”
Li ignores me, so I take a minute to observe my surroundings.
The car’s windows are blacked out and all the doors are locked. I haven’t seen any weapons, but Li and the others could easily be hiding guns in their bulky winter coats. Surprisingly, they didn’t check any of my pockets or my purse but it wouldn’t have mattered if they did. The only thing I have on me is a tube of lipstick that turns into a knife but the blade is no longer than my thumb. Hardly capable of any significant damage and it’d be wiser to keep its existence a secret for now.
God, I hope Alejandro hasn’t hung up. I wish there was a way for me to check but I can’t run the risk of Li seeing my phone.
I look outside and take note of the street signs. We’re on Park Avenue heading south and ride in silence for about thirteen blocks or so when we reach 79 th Street and make a right.
“We’re on 79 th and Park,” I say aloud. “This isn’t the direction to the lounge. Why are we going this way?”
“I told you, we’re going for a ride.”
We take all of 79 th street and I expect us to make another turn somewhere but we don’t. Instead, we drive straight through and into Central Park.
“Alejandro is expecting me at his hotel, and you’ve already made me late. I’m not taking a stroll through Central Park with you.”
“Rian’s tolerance of you is a mystery to me. You’re almost as insufferable as you are pretty, though I suspect the latter is the root of his obsession with you.” He reaches out to graze my cheek and when I try to pull away, he lets a strand of hair curl around his finger and tugs. “He’s always had a weakness for nice toys. As children, he envied the way my parents indulged my every desire whereas his father forced him to live in modesty. Can you imagine it? A proper prince of New York living like a blue-collar pauper.”
“Your attitudes toward social classes are antiquated.”
He laughs abruptly. “ Antiquated ? What a big word. Perhaps you aren’t just pretty after all.”
“My IQ level is higher than the number of inches on those hideous shoe lifts you’re wearing,” I remark. “Judging by how we’re almost eye level today, I’d say it’s a lot.”
Li brings his right arm around and strikes the side of my face hard enough to make my ears ring. A gasp leaves my lips and I collapse against the door behind me, clutching my cheek and momentarily too stunned to speak.
Li has never raised a hand to me before. No one ever has. Fear should force me into submission but my blood boils and simmers with the desire to get even.
“I much preferred handpicking Rian’s sluts for him. They were quiet and far more malleable.” He reaches into his pocket for something. “Give me your hand.”
“ No .”
Without warning, he lunges across the backseat and tries to pin me down. One hand wraps around my throat and he applies pressure to my windpipe when I try to scream. The car passes under one of the park’s bridges and the streetlights are few and far between which means when I try to reach into my pocket and the lipstick weapon inside, I lose track of it in the darkness. Kicking and scratching at whatever I can grab hold of, Li manages to get the upper hand by applying all his weight my ribcage. Trapped in an uncomfortable position with my head against the door and my back on the leathers seats, I still manage to land a hard punch to Li’s face. His head whips back and I hear the crack of bone and cartilage. Blood drips onto my face followed by the harsh sting of a needle piercing the flesh of my upper arm.
Whatever he’s injected me with is swift and powerful. My limbs go numb almost immediately and I can feel the slowing of my heart in my chest.
My phone, where’s my phone.
Where is it?
“Alejandro!” I say his name as loud as I can. “Alex…”
My pocket. I put my phone in my pocket.
I try reaching for it but my arms are numb. Li yanks me upward by the collar of my coat and starts searching me frantically.
“You bitch,” he seethes. “Where is it!”
“We…we’re driving…79 th street…the park—Li drugged?—”
Another hand strikes me across the face and this time I fall off the backseat, landing on the floor. I try to prop myself up but my fingers tingle and my legs are deadweight. Li’s hands continue to scour my body and the many layers of my winter clothes until he finally finds my phone.
“Narvaez,” I hear him say. “Just the man I wanted to speak to.”