Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
I don’t want to.
“I still think you need to go to the police—this situation is dangerous and you need their help.”
“No,” I say, sharply. “I said no.”
“At least get some help, Willow, please.”
I look away. “I’m fine.”
She narrows her eyes. “No, you’re not.”
“I will be. I just need time.”
“You’re not going to stay in contact with him, are you?”
I think about Jagger’s number in my phone and decide not to tell her about it. I don’t even know if I can process the fact that I have it.
“I wouldn’t know how to find him if I tried.”
I just broke my no lying rule.
“We should call Jenny. She’s been beside herself with worry. We thought you were dead.”
Poor Jenny. It would have been so hard on her. “I will call her in the morning. Please, I just need tonight.”
She hugs me again and strokes my hair. “Okay. I’m going to make you some tea.”
I nod weakly and stand. “I’m going to shower.”
“Take your time. I’ll be right here.”
I turn just as I reach the hall and call out her name. She turns and stares at me.
“It wasn’t your fault, Ava, you know that, right?”
Her lip trembles. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to go and approach him. I practically threw you at him. I should have watched you, I shouldn’t have taken you in the first place ...”
I walk over, placing my hands on her shoulders. “Ava, don’t. I made my own choices that night.”
I hug her again then disappear down the hallway. I head to my room. It has been so long, it all feels foreign to me, and I feel out of place. I stare around and look at the clothes on the floor. They are still there from the night we went out and I threw them all onto the ground trying to find the perfect outfit. If I had have stayed home that night ... No ... I can’t think like that.
I reach into my purse and pull out my phone. When I switch it on, I can see right away it has been wiped clean and a new sim card has been installed. Jagger isn’t stupid. Not even close. I open his number and stare at it for so long my vision blurs. I throw it onto the bed and, with a pain in my heart, get into the shower. I wash everything away, the last few months, all of it.
I pray it stays gone.
I don’t know if I can take much more.
10
The next week of my life is a painful blur. I spend hours at the police department, lying through my teeth to protect a man who doesn’t even want me. I tell them I was blindfolded and didn’t see or hear anything the entire time I was there. I tell them I was in a room, held captive. I tell them a little, just enough to make my story believable. I tell them whoever took me was after my father, who is apparently in witness protection. They have a great deal of questions for me, but none of them can lead back to Jagger.
I just continue to lie. Over and over again.
I continued to beg Ava to agree with me, but my fear is that she’ll break. I have to stick to my story, even if she tells another one. Without information, there is no way for them to know who took me. She isn’t happy about it, she believes Jagger should go to prison for what he did, but I don’t agree. I just want to get on with my life, and I hope one day soon, she can come to the same conclusion.
My sister Jenny cried for an entire day when she found out I was home. The press had a field day, but with no information, they could only make up stories. I was kidnapped and returned, and the reason behind it was still a mystery. I didn’t tell Jenny the real story, and I made Ava promise not to tell her, either. She wouldn’t understand. She’d never understand. Especially not when it comes to my father.
I assured Ava I would seek therapy, and I found a lady I could speak to without it getting out to the media. There is no way in hell I’m going to share the real truth with her, so I decide to give her a version of the truth. Everyone knows I got kidnapped, but as far as they know, I don’t know who that person was.
I’m sitting in her office on day eight, staring at the wall with a grim expression. Doctor Peterson is a tall, pretty woman with flaming red hair and blue eyes. She smiles a lot and nods her head constantly, as though she’s agreeing with everything I’m saying, which I know she’s not.