Chapter Seven Annabel
As I reached to turn off the shower, my gaze froze on my battered wrists.
For a few moments, I could only stand there, staring at the marks I had made there.
I could almost hear my mother’s disdainful voice remarking on how the gashes would leave such unattractive scars.
To be scarred in our world of superficial perfection might as well have been the same as leprosy.
I would now be forced to remember my moment of weakness and despair each and every day of my life—a physical testimony to a place and time when the weight of the world became too much to bear.
They would be there when I first woke up in the morning and would remain throughout the day until I laid my head on my pillow at night.
I would never play the piano again without seeing the scars, nor would I examine one of my furry patients without the glaring reminder.
During spring and summer when I wore short sleeves, people’s attention would be drawn to them, and their minds would whirl with the possibilities of what had happened to me.
Mostly I knew they would look disapprovingly at me that I had once tried to take my life.
While part of me was horrified at the thought, the other part relished in the truth of the battle scars which adorned my body.
Soldiers and police officers often were injured in the line of duty, and they wore their scars with pride.
In a small way, mine would also be a testament to what I had been through and ultimately survived.
It was the small incision on my abdomen that caused the greatest emotional pain.
It would be the one I couldn’t wear with pride.
It would be a constant reminder of my physical shortcomings.
While deep down I clung to hope that I would someday be a mother, there was no grey area when it came to me experiencing pregnancy.
As a fresh wave of grief washed over me, I leaned back against the shower wall and thought about how I found myself now in a strange sort of other world.
A place born of living three lifetimes in less than three months.
There had been the Annabel I had been before the kidnapping, the Annabel I was during my enslavement in Mexico, and there was the Annabel I would be now. And who was she?
After living such a controlled life both under my parents’ thumb and in captivity, it was alarming to have to wonder what tomorrow would bring.
Questions of how to proceed with my life inundated my brain at almost warp speed.
Once I started down that train of thought, I didn’t know how to stop it.
I knew I was only supposed to take one day at a time as I recovered, even as little as one step, but I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen now?
A gentle knock came at the door. “Annabel? Are you okay?” Rev asked.
Realizing I must’ve been in the shower longer than I thought, I quickly turned off the water. “Yes, I’m fine,” I called.
After I toweled off, I realized I was too tired to dry my hair, so I combed it out and left it wet.
I slipped into another hospital gown and what were apparently the post-op granny panties I was mandated to wear.
When I came out of the bathroom, I found only Rev remained.
I wasn’t sure where Dr. Edgeway or Rev’s brother had gone.
“Hi,” I said, softly.
He glanced up from the book he was reading. “Hello. Feeling okay?”
I nodded. “Much better now. Little tired.”
“I was worried about that. You need to get some rest.”
With a yawn, I replied, “I plan on it.” When I eased into the bed, Rev stood up to help pull the sheet and blanket over me. “Thanks.”
My head had barely hit the pillow when I fell into a deep sleep. I awoke to the unappetizing smell of the dinner trays being brought around. I had always heard the jokes about American hospital food, but if there was anything worse, I think it had to be Mexican hospital food.
When I glanced over to where I had last seen Rev, he was still sitting in the chair beside the bed, watching TV. “Hey,” I said.
He turned his head to grin at me. “Hey there, sleeping beauty. I was wondering when you might wake up.”
His term of endearment made me smile. “I can’t believe how long I slept,” I said, as I pushed myself into a sitting position.
“You needed it.”
An aide appeared with my food and set it down without a smile. “Gracias,” I murmured, as she started away. I opened the lid and then quickly shut it.
“You need to eat,” Rev urged, when I pushed the tray away.
“I’d like to see you try that.”
With a smile, he rose out of his chair. He took the lid off of my tray and then picked up a fork. He cut a piece of the pale cutlet of chicken. After taking a bite, his expression soured, and he quickly turned to spit out the food into the trashcan.
“That’s horrible.”
“I tried to tell you.”
“I’ll call Bishop and ask him to bring us some food that’s a little more appetizing.”
I smiled at him. “That sounds like a plan.”
After Rev made the call to Bishop, he didn’t put his phone away. Instead, he kept looking at it and then at me. The expression on his face told me he was apprehensive about something. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Are you sure? You look funny.”
A teasing smile played on his lips. “That wasn’t a very nice thing to say.”
I laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. You look like something is bothering you. Like you need to tell me something you really don’t want to.”
Rev’s smile faded. “You’re very perceptive.
” He once again rose out of the chair. “You’re being discharged in the morning, so we’ll be leaving for El Paso.
” Then he proceeded to tell me the plans that I assumed Breakneck and he had made earlier.
“But before we leave, I need you to talk to your parents.”
My stomach churned at the prospect. “I tried to kill myself earlier today. Must I endure that as well?” I said and I knew I sounded bitter.
He stared at me, his dark brows furrowed.
I could tell the wheels were spinning in his head about what kind of heartless girl I could be not to want to put my worried parents’ minds at ease.
In the vast scheme of things, it didn’t matter what he thought of me, but at the same time, I couldn’t bear to have someone as good and kind hearted as he was thinking I was a bad person.
“Rev, I’m sure this all seems strange to you, but just like I don’t understand the world you come from, you don’t understand mine either.”
His expression softened a little. “Trust me, I get that people have fucked up families. But no matter what happened before with them, they have a right to know.
Nibbling my lip between my teeth, I contemplated his response. I finally relented. “What if you called them?”
“Seriously?”
I nodded. When he still seemed unconvinced, I said, “Please?”
He exhaled a long, almost defeated sigh. “Do you want to speak to them after I have?” When I shook my head, he groaned. “Fine. I’ll call them.” He then wagged a finger at me. “But you owe me.”
“You’re right. I do. But for more than I can possibly repay.”
“Some things are on the house,” he replied, with a tender smile that made my chest tighten with emotion.
“I’ll give you my father’s private number. That way you won’t be given the run around by his aides.”
To my surprise, Rev put the phone on speaker.
“This is Emmett Percy,” my father said on the third ring.
Hearing his voice should probably have brought me some form of comfort, but it didn’t move me at all.
When you’ve been kept at arm’s length your entire life by your parents, even a catastrophic event doesn’t change the way you feel.
The only person I would want to talk to at the house was Connie, my former nanny who was now employed as my mother’s assistant.
“Mr. Percy, you don’t know me, and I don’t know you. The only thing you do need to know is your daughter Annabel is safe.”
My father sucked in a harsh breath. “What do you mean? Who are you? Where is my daughter?” he demanded.
“The less details you know of her kidnapping and rescue the better. That can be said for all parties involved. She is safe and recuperating, so any search efforts you had should be canceled. She will be returning home to you in Virginia in a few days.”
“I don’t believe a fucking word you’ve said. I want to speak to my daughter this instant.”
Rev thrust out the phone to me. His no nonsense look told me I had no other choice but to speak to my father. With a resigned sigh, I said, “It’s me, Father.”
“Annabel? Annabel, are you really okay?”
“Yes, I am. I swear. And I’m not being coerced into saying that either.”
“Where are you?”
“You don’t need to know that.”
“The hell I don’t! Is that man the one who kidnapped you? I’ll have the CIA and FBI on his ass in seconds.”
“Father, please. He saved me from something pretty horrible. He doesn’t need to be harassed by you or your minions.”
“I want you home this instant. It’s been a media circus since you left—”
Rage boiled inside me at his comment. Gripping the phone tighter, I spat, “I didn’t just leave. I was kidnapped by a group of traffickers. Do you understand what that means? I had no choice. In anything that happened or was done to me.”
My father remained silent for a moment as if he was trying to process the horror of what I had just said.
But he wasn’t focusing on my torment—the unspeakable pain his daughter had gone through.
No, I was certain he was worrying about how my family could find a way to get out of this unscathed both politically and socially.
“I will send the plane for you right now. Wherever you are in the world.”
“No. It isn’t necessary.”
“Annabel, be reasonable. Your mother hasn’t slept in weeks. We’re both a wreck.”
Once again, he was only thinking of himself. It didn’t matter what I had gone through, the many sleepless nights I had endured. “I’m sorry, Father. But that’s all you need to know right now.”