Chapter 18 #2
We weren’t having these thoughts. I hated this man.
Hate was such a strong word. He did save my life after all.
Okay, I didn’t like this man. He was part of my captivity.
He also saved my life, just not soon enough.
He was attractive. I couldn’t deny that part, but him standing there on the mat without shoes and a shirt—Lord help me.
The stubble on his face had been growing since we arrived.
Well, it was more than a stubble now. His hair had also grown out quite a bit from when we got here.
My eyes trailed down to his chest. He was clearly in shape.
My eyes paused on the wolf tattoo on his arm, the sun glistening off the sweat that ran over it.
He had his grey sweatpants on, which he usually wore to bed. A ticklish sensation came over me—
“You coming or what?” he asked after a minute.
I didn’t say anything, just walked to the mat. I needed to get in control. I couldn’t like this man. He could be a friend and nothing else.
“Should I take my shoes off?” I asked.
“It’s ideal, but you don’t have to,” he said. I reached down, untied my shoes, and then slipped them off. I set them next to his. I stepped onto the mat with him. My stomach knotted.
“Feel the mat under your feet. Bounce on the front half of your foot a couple of times around the mat,” he said.
I did as he said. Warmth flooded my calves.
“Once you feel your legs getting warmed up, I want you to step over to me, standing about a foot or so from me,” he said.
I walked over and stood in front of him. Except I opted to stand further than a foot from him. He held his hand up, curling his fingers toward himself. I shook my head.
“I won’t bite…” he said.
“If I’m close, then you have the advantage,” I said. I didn’t really know if that was true, but I needed an excuse not to get closer to him.
“Sometimes. I’m planning to stand here and do nothing. I want you to throw every punch you have at me,” he said.
“And you won’t hit back?”
“Not today, although if it’s too much to ask, stay away from my face.”
“This feels… weird. No, wrong, maybe?”
“Stop standing there like a little doe, and fucking—”
My fist flew and grazed his cheek.
“Of course, you would go for the face.”
“I always had a problem with authority,” I said.
“You don’t say,” he said. “Now hit again.”
“It feels weird just to hit you,” I told him.
“Pretend I’m Ravik.”
Without thinking, I hit him in the chest.
“I’m the guard that locked—” He didn’t get to finish before my body took over, hitting him over and over again, as fast as my arms would move.
My arms and legs burned. I dropped my arms to my side. Tears rolled down my cheeks, then sobs escaped me. I fell to the mat, gasping in between cries. He knelt next to me, placing his hand on my back.
“Atta girl, let it go,” he said.
I sobbed harder. Anger and sadness overwhelmed me. I felt rage toward that guy, toward Ravik, toward Daxyn, and even toward Quinn. I was so very sad about Izayuh and Aspen.
I sat there crying for several minutes before I finally caught my breath. A weight lifted off my chest. I took in a couple of deep breaths, recentering myself. The anger and sadness faded. I stood to my feet.
“I’m good,” I said.
“I know. Do you want to stop, or do you have more in you?”
“Am I going to cry every time?”
“No. There may be days when you will, but the first release is always the hardest and deepest cry someone has.”
“Good, because that was exhausting. I think I’m good for the day. I need a good shower,” I told him.
“Good, because you smell.”
My face instantly felt hotter than it already was. He let out a small laugh. I could also play those games.
“Yeah… you do too, daddy,” I said, then turned around.
He grabbed my wrist before I stepped off the mat. I turned my head to look at him. My eyes locked onto his amber eyes. Something rolled through my stomach.
“Don’t call me that,” he said, before letting go.
I dropped my eyes and walked quickly inside. I grabbed clothes from my room and went into the bathroom. I stopped in front of the sink and looked into the mirror, staring at my own reflection.
“Get it together, Zalayuh,” I whispered to myself.
Once I came out of the bathroom, he went in behind me, taking his own shower.
I grabbed my journal from my room and sat at the table.
I journaled a lot as a teenager. Writing had always been therapeutic for me.
I started writing about when I was captured.
I wrote out all the details I remembered.
I expected to cry as I wrote, but I didn’t.
It felt easy. Maybe beating him really was the answer to the anger I was holding onto.
Quinn finally made his way out of the bathroom. He wore jeans and a button-down flannel. Handsome. Nope. I didn’t like him, remember.
“I have a question for you, and it’s completely up to you,” he said.
“I’m listening…” I said.
“We can either have supper here, or we can go to my Titi’s house for a big family supper. I’m okay with what—”
“Let’s go to her house,” I said, cutting him off.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“You deserve to spend time with your family,” I said.
“There will be a lot of people there, and it’s okay if that’s too much,” he said.
“I actually think it’s exactly what I—we need,” I said.
“We don’t need to leave for a little bit.”
“Alright,” I said.
I was nervous about being around a bunch of people, but I kept telling myself that we both needed it. He needed to be around his family. I needed the distraction—from him, Aspen, and Izayuh. My mind went back to Aspen. I wondered what she got for Christmas.
“Do you think I could call my family?” It came out of my mouth before I was even sure I wanted to ask.
“That’s up to you. Honestly, surprised you haven’t already done it or asked.”
“Well, I wasn’t sure what to say or even if I should call them.”
“I can’t answer that for you.”
“You had all the answers for me before,” I shot out.
“Zay…” he said low.
“What if it gets out to Ravik?”
“Um… well, that’s the risk we take if you call,” he said.
“You’re not helping!”
“Well, I won’t tell you not to call your family. It’s Christmas, but if you do, maybe don’t tell them everything…”
“Okay… I’ll call.” I looked at the clock, and it was already after twelve. They would be well awake and probably cooking lunch.
I walked to the phone and dialed home. Nausea crept up my throat. It rang once. More nausea. Rang again. I almost hung up.
“Hello,” my mother said. Nothing came out of my mouth. I stood frozen, with the phone pressed to my ear.
“Hello!” she said, a little louder.
“Mom,” I said.
“Zalayuh?”
“It’s me, Mom, Zalayuh.”
“Where the hell are you?” she said.
“I can’t tell you—”
“The hell you can’t. Where the hell are you, girl?”
“I’m… I uh… I was kidnapped,” I said.
“Stop lyinnnn’” she said, with a slight slur in her words. She was already drinking for the day.
“No, I’m not. I got free, but he’s still lookin’ for me. You can’t tell anyone I called.”
“I’m gonna call the cops—”
“NO! You can’t do that. I’ll be home in a couple of months, when it’s safe,” I said.
“It was that bastard Daxyn, huh?”
“No, no. He wasn’t involved at all. He doesn’t know about this,” I told her. I had to tell some lies too, to protect myself.
“Come home, Zalayuh. I neeeeeed you,” she said.
“I will, Mom. I just wanted you to know I'm safe now. I miss y’all. How’s Aspen? Can I talk to her?” I said.
“Yeah,” she said coldly.
“Hello?” Aspen’s little voice carried through the phone. My heart skipped a beat.
“Hi, sweet girl!”
“Zay-Zay, where are you? When are you coming home?”
“Soon, baby girl, very soon,” I said.
“I miss you,” she cried out.
“I know you do. I miss you too,” I said.
“Momma is always drunk, and Bubba is sick all the time,” she whispered. I didn’t know what to say. She was six. She shouldn’t understand any of this.
“It’s okay. I promise I’ll be home soon enough, okay?”
“I’ve been waiting for you every night,” she cried.
“Listen, Aspen. It’s super important that you don’t tell anyone that you talked to me, okay? Not even Bubba. I know I always tell you that we shouldn’t keep secrets, but this one is really important, okay?”
“Okay, I won’t tell anyone.”
“I gotta go. I love you so very much, Aspen,” I told her.
“To the mooooooon and back,” she said. Then the line went dead.
I hung the phone up and stared at it. I shouldn’t have called.
What did she mean by Paxton was sick all the time?
My mother was drunk before one p.m. Things were really bad at home, and Aspen was in the middle.
I cared about my mom and brother, sure, but Aspen was the axis around which I revolved.
She was like my own child, and I loved her like one.
“I’ll have someone pop in and see what’s going on,” Quinn said.
He heard everything that was said on the other line. I still stood there, frozen, staring at the phone.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
We sat around for a little longer before we headed to Lina’s house. The drive felt longer than it had when we first arrived. I remembered it a little bit and was pretty sure we were getting close.
“Listen, before we get there, my family can be loud and very unfiltered,” he said.
“It’ll be okay,” I said.
“And if it becomes too much, you can tell me, and we can leave.”
“Yeah? Do I just say, ‘Hey, your family is too much?’”
He laughed. “No, just say you’re really tired, or you’re not feeling good.”
“Understood, chief,” I said.
He shot his head toward me. “I’m glad to see your spunk has returned, even if it’s at my expense.”
“Figured it was better than daddy.”
He glanced my way again, narrowing his eyes before turning back toward the road. We pulled into the drive. Before he even turned the truck off, three people rushed out the door to his side of the truck.
“Here we go,” he muttered. He cut the engine and opened the door.
“Quinnlyn!” a female said.
“Cousin!” the shorter male said.
“Mikel!” the other male said.