Chapter Eighteen
Scarlett
I recognize the smell of his cologne and the soft way he lifts my body off the mattress. I know him before he even speaks. Blindfolded, disoriented, tired, and sick, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt: Beckett has come for me.
“Buuhhh…” I try to speak through the gag.
“Shhh,” Beckett says gently as he holds me to his chest. “We need to get you out of here. Don’t say anything until you're safe.”
I am still bound, still have my mask on as Beckett carries me in his arms. After what seems like an hour of running, we finally get to a road, and Beckett only sounds the slightest bit over-exerted.
“We’re not out of the woods yet, but I can free you,” he says, and I can feel him working on the lock of my cuffs with something.
Miraculously, after a little bit of manipulation on his part, the handcuffs fall away.
In the distance, I hear screaming and fighting and gunfire.
It is terrifying—like a war is happening just a short distance away from us.
My legs are bound with zip ties, which Beckett is able to cut through with a knife.
When he takes off my ski mask, I am so stunned I don't speak.
I just sit there on the ground, finally free of my restraints.
“Okay,” Beckett says as a helicopter lands in the distance. “That’s for us. I’m going to carry you.”
I clamp my legs around his waist and bury my head in his chest as he lifts me into his arms.
“Don’t worry, little dancer. I’ve got you.” He brings me toward the whirring sound.
“We’re taking a helicopter?” My strained voice sounds dry and choked.
“I have four of them; I might as well use one,” he laughs, and I love the sound of his laughter.
He moves us to the helicopter, and a co-pilot takes me from Beckett and places me in a jump seat while Beckett yells over the loud sound of the engine and propellers.
“I’ll buckle her in,” he says. “You get us out of here as fast as you can.”
Beckett finishes fastening the seatbelts and then gets into his own seat as the co-pilot closes the door and restrains himself next to the pilot.
The pilot gives Beckett a thumbs-up, and suddenly our helicopter is in the air.
Below, I see several patches of dark black smoke pluming up from a straw-colored field.
There are tiny dots running around to the faint sounds of gunshots and explosions.
What a monumental rescue effort… all for me?
My body hurts, but I am free from a situation I sincerely doubted I’d survive.
After the big guy gave me water and walked away, he left me on the bed for hours.
All I did was think of Beckett, Rayne, and Mia.
When I couldn't bear thinking of the people I would never see again, I composed dances in my head to popular songs.
I’ve always wanted to choreograph a classical ballet piece with contemporary music.
Ballet is one of the most beautiful art forms, in my opinion, and classical music is a great pairing for it, but it doesn't reach young people.
I was hoping to crossover into a more mainstream platform.
I became a dancer because I was given free classes through the community center when my mom was trying to get custody of me from DCFS.
After being reunited with my mom, the community center continued to pay for my dance classes.
I really did like Mrs. Wellington. She was strict but also kind.
She died when I was nineteen years old, after my first year at NYU.
She was extremely proud of me for making it to college as a dancer, and I will always credit her with my ability to do it.
It is too loud to have a conversation in the helicopter, so I close my eyes and try to connect with the fact that I am finally safe.
I had not been gone for long—perhaps only twenty-four hours—though time is mysterious to me at this point.
Despite how short the time has been, I was just waiting for the moment when I’d be killed.
I wondered how they would do it. Would they shoot me, strangle me, poison me?
What would that moment feel like? The idea that I was minutes or hours or maybe days away from the end of my life was so debilitating.
I'd never see my beautiful baby again; I'd never talk to Mia or get to know Beckett.
I am safe now, and I start to cry; in fact, I am sobbing.
I didn’t expect any kindness from Beckett. He saved my life. That was enough. Sitting in the jump seat next to me, he reaches his soft, warm hand out and takes mine, caressing my fingers. Words are not necessary at this moment. He hands me a soft linen handkerchief, and I use it to pat my eyes.
“Everything is going to be okay,” he assures me, though I don’t believe he is able to keep that promise.
I can’t say anything; I am still in shock.
About an hour later, we land on a small, wooded island.
The helicopter touches down on a landing pad.
When the engines turn off, my ears are still buzzing, and my body feels completely drained.
Beckett unhooks me from the chair and lifts me out of the seat.
“I can walk,” I say weakly.
“I know,” is his response. “But I want to carry you over the threshold.”
He is being remarkably jovial, not only for Beckett and his usual gray mood but for the circumstances.
He just went through a war zone to liberate me from captivity.
I don't have the heart to argue, so I let him carry me into a massive three-story cabin.
The place smells like cedarwood and spice.
It reminds me of Christmas, though it is summer.
He carries me into an immense great room with an entire wall of windows looking out over the lake. The house is on an island and surrounded by water and other islands in the distance.
“We’ll be safe here. I have surveillance around the island.
A boat can’t get anywhere near us because there’s an electromagnetic barrier that will deter anyone from entering.
It's similar to an electric fence. I have sensors that will alert me when aircraft or vessels get near, and I have an entire fleet of security officers with boats stationed all around. We’re as safe here as we’ll ever be. ”
“Scarlett!” I hear Mia scream from above. Looking up, I see her blonde hair cascading down as she yells from the banister of a second-story balcony.
“Oh, and my sister and the baby are here. We’ll be staying in the boathouse.”
There is a trampling thud down the stairs, and Mia comes bounding forward to throw her arms around my neck even though Beckett still holds me.
“She’s shell-shocked, Mia. We need to give her a little space,” he says, setting me down on the couch.
Mia sits next to me. “I’m impervious to shell shock,” she says and holds my hand as I stare out at the water through the window.
“You might be,” Beckett says as he returns with a big glass of cold water, “but she isn’t. Drink this,” he says gently, and I do because I am dying of thirst. At first, I gulp it down, needing the water. “Slowly,” he adds and strokes my hair.
“Scar?” Mia touches my leg, but I can’t speak. I just stare out at the lake.
“She’s in shock.” Beckett’s voice is soft and kind. “They had her in partial sensory deprivation—eyes covered, mouth gagged, arms and legs bound. She had to be scared out of her mind. She needs a little time.”
I hate that he is right. I do need more time after all I've been through. I just need things to be small and manageable.
“I'm going to take her to the boathouse where we’re staying.
Thank you for watching Rayne for us. The night nurse who's working with you—I believe her name is Celeste—has been hired through Marcel.
He's a friend of mine who hires people for underground work.
She's been thoroughly vetted. Your job is just to play with Rayne during the day.
Celeste will watch her overnight, and I'll take care of her for the rest of the time.”
“You are going to take care of a baby?” Mia says with a sharp bite to her tone.
“Scarlett and I will watch her, and if you can help us, that would be amazing,” Beckett says.
“Right now we need to rely on family. I think keeping the people in Scarlett’s life to a minimum is of paramount importance.
I've canceled all of my hours at the hospitals and have called out for an indefinite amount of time. I think with the three of us and a night nurse, we’ll be able to take care of one baby. ”
“It's summer break so I'm fine to stay as long as you need me. However, do you think Scarlett is going to be okay?” Mia sounds really worried.
“I can’t predict how she’ll recover from this trauma after already enduring so much, and admittedly I don’t know her well, but I’m going to make her my priority.”
“Really?” Mia sounds shocked and, frankly, I am shocked too, but don’t have the bandwidth to show it.
“I know you see me as a monster. I'm not going to argue; however, I've never been placed in a situation where I've had the opportunity to care for anyone. I now have a daughter, a wife… and a sister. The three of you are women I’d very much like to know better. Am I going to do well with the three of you? Probably not, but you’ll have my sincerest effort; that's all I can offer.”
“I’ll take it. It’ll be nice to actually have a big brother.” Mia throws her arms around his neck, and he flinches back, but then reluctantly hugs her.
“This is going to take some getting used to,” he says with a laugh and strokes my leg, including me in the conversation.
I touch his hand and hold it. It is all that I am able to do.
I stay on the couch looking out at the lake for hours while Beckett receives a grocery order, and he and Mia prattle around in the kitchen making food.
Mia loves cooking and knows my favorite dishes, so she and her brother ensure I have meals prepared ahead of time.
When the sun starts to set, Beckett comes and sits with me on the couch.
“We’re staying in the boathouse. It will be just the two of us tonight.
You haven’t seen Rayne yet, and I know you want to see her.
She’s upstairs, but I spoke with a neurologist a few hours ago and they recommended that we take a few days before we add her into the mix.
She’ll be good for your soul, but you’re in shock.
Right now we need to prioritize your mental health, so keeping the stimulus to a minimum is imperative.
” All I can do is touch him in response.
He is speaking too many words, but maybe oversharing the minutiae is his way of being nervous. “I knew you’d understand.”
Beckett helps me walk to the lake house.
In my mind, a lake house is a small shack where boats are stored.
I should have known that nothing is small in Beckett's universe.
The house is on a lake several yards away from the main house.
It has a large sitting room with the same wall of windows looking out on the lake as the main house, but it also has an indoor spa-like pool and a master bedroom with a massive bed.
In addition to this, there is an underground room with a view of the rocks and fish below the house.
The way the lighting plays on the water, you can see the little fish and animals swimming around the lake.
“Can I fix you some tea before bed?” Beckett asks me as I sit out on the deck overlooking the lake.
“Tea,” I say, testing my voice. Tea sounds good.
My mind is a cluttered mess.
“I told you not to fucking speak, bitch.” My captor's odd metallic voice keeps ringing in my head.
“Perfect. Honey or no?” Beckett is being good.
He isn’t a good man, but he is being one for me.
“Honey,” I say, watching the water roll along.
“Perfect.”
He makes my tea and brings it out to me, and we both sip on our hot beverages while watching the lake.
He doesn't say anything, and neither do I.
I think we both are marinating in our feelings.
After sitting there for an hour until the sun fully sets and the mosquitoes start biting, he finally speaks.
“Time for bed, tiny dancer.”
He helps me shower, dry off, dress in sleepwear, and get into the massive bed.
The sheets are clean and crisp, and I nestle into the soft pillowy covers. What I didn't expect, but probably should have, is that Beckett gets in with me. Just before he turns out the lights, he kisses my temple and strokes my cheek.
“Good night, sweetheart. I’m glad you're here.”
“Me too,” I whisper.
The sound of dripping water plagues my memories. I thrash and try to pull my hands out of the handcuffs. I have to break the ties on my legs. I can't breathe. I can't get enough air. I am dying of thirst. I need water. I need…
“Scarlett!” comes a surprised voice. “Sweetheart, it’s me.”
I keep thrashing and hitting, and kicking, and punching, and trying to get away. I keep pulling, scraping, scratching, and kicking. I have to escape.
“Beckett!” I scream. “Where’s the baby?”
Beckett shakes me awake, and I stare at him wide-eyed. His face is covered in welts and bloody scratches, and I think I gave him a black eye.
“I’m sorry,” I say as tears heat my eyes.