Page 135 of Submission

“I’m sorry,” is all she says as she bends her head down in a completely defeated way. The usual light in her eyes dimmed to almost pure darkness.

Now that I look closely, I notice there’s a strong resemblance between Naomi and the man next to her. This must be her father. The man she’s been avoiding all this time. The man Hunter warned me about. He’s watching me with an off-putting sort of curiosity.

“Are you a friend of my daughter’s?” The man asks me, and Naomi’s eyes widen. I think she’s trying to communicate something she may want me to say or not to say but I don’t know what it is— so I just go with the truth.

“Yes,” I answer with an obvious quiver in my voice.

“The roommate, right?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Perfect,” he says, giving a nod to the driver. “She’ll need someone to stand up for her at the wedding.”

Wait…what?

The car makes a turn onto a familiar ramp near the apartment that leads to an interstate highway.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask the man, two seconds away from a full-fledged panic attack.

“You say you’re Naomi’s friend, then you should attend her wedding. My daughter was rude not to invite you in the first place. Please accept my apology on her behalf.”

Is this man on drugs?

I look at Naomi for answers but mostly for help, but she doesn’t say one single word.

Not one.

“My fiancé will worry if I just leave town without him knowing,” I say, cursing at myself for leaving the house without taking my cell phone.

“Perhaps then he’ll understand how it feels.”

“Understand how what feels?”

“He harbored my daughter in his apartment without my or her fiancé’s knowledge or consent. Imagine how worried we were about our Josephine.”

“Josephine?” The man laughs mockingly.

“My daughter is quite the weaver of tales. This life she has carved out for herself out west is a complete lie. She is not a hairdresser or makeup artist or whatever those folks call themselves, and Naomi is not her real name. Her roots are in the bayou. Her name is Josephine Fabre, and she is getting married in less than five days to the love of her life. A wedding that you will attend and witness since she decided to bring you and your fiancé into this.”

As we grow closer to the airport, full-on panic settles into my chest, and I feel nauseous. I’ve got to get out of this car.

“Sir, I’m pregnant.”

“Is that right? Well, congratulations.”

“So, as you can see, I shouldn’t really travel.”

“We’ll take good care of you, Miss Taylor, don’t you worry.”

He said my name.

Holy shit.

Naomi's father knows exactly who I am.

“And if all goes well, we’ll return you to Mr. Middleton in better shape than you are right now. My man Eddie here will make sure of it.”

The driver turns his head and gives me a sinister grin, and that’s when I know for sure.

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