Page 44 of Deadly Sights

As he applied sealant to the damaged area, a sharp crack rent the air and a deluge of water began to fall. With no protection from the elements, the downpour soon soaked father and daughter.

“Pumpkin pop, go to my door and get the umbrella out of the pocket.”

She rushed to do his bidding. When she had the umbrella in hand, she turned to slam the door and open the umbrella to protect her from getting wetter as she returned to her father.

Before she took two steps, a hand slammed over her nose and mouth and an arm picked her up from the ground. Too stunned to react, she didn’t begin to kick until the person holding her shoved her into the back of the panel van. He was medium height and unremarkable except for the large mole protruding from the side of his nose. The man quickly followed inside to silence her.

After recapturing her, the stranger said to the driver, “You better leave now before the wife remembers what you look like.”

The driver shares a meaningful glance with her abductor. “She never got a good look at me, and the owners of the gas station are cheap, lazy bastards. They never hooked up their camera. Any robber would notice the wires dangling from the back of the devices.” The driver shook his head as he drove off, leaving the umbrella swaying and collecting water while the girl’s father busied himself with repairing the tire, unaware of the crime taking place or that someone had taken his beloved pumpkin pop.

CHAPTER 20

MOURNING A SECOND TIME

Nadira

Igasp and shoot up in bed. The residual effects of the dream that’s not a dream but a memory remain clear and terrifying as I try to catch my breath. I barely notice the lack of headache that accompanies these dreams because, for the first time, everything is vividly clear. My mother’s copper brown skin and light brown eyes filled with affection. My father’s soulful black eyes and full lips always on the brink of smiling. And the men who took me from my loving family.

“Nadira?”

When did I fall asleep?

“Nadira!” Julian’s voice penetrates the despair surrounding me. He holds my face between his large hands while concern brackets his mouth.

I blink until he comes into focus. Then I search his eyes, but I don’t know what I’m looking for. From the letter I found at hishouse, I knew I was abducted, but it felt alien then. As if another child went through the horrors and I experienced the events as a bystander. Not anymore.

Julian presses his forehead against mine. “You’re okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Y stands for Yolanda,” I say, shocking him into releasing me.

A fleeting smile disappears from his lips. “ I want to think you gaining another memory is good, but from your reaction, it’s not all roses, is it?”

I shake my head and get out of bed. I’ve spent longer with Julian than I should have and need to return to my suite before my friends wake. “I remember the men who took me from my parents.” When he moves as if to comfort me, I stall him with an upraised hand. “Don’t. I need to process what I’m feeling before I can accept comfort.”

He firms his lips but ultimately accepts my decision with a nod.

“Thank you,” I say before retrieving my discarded clothes, including the robe I left at the door.

“Here.” Julian hands me a set of pajamas and I smile my gratitude.

If anyone catches me sneaking into my room, at least I won’t have to clutch my robe in fear of exposing my tits and pussy. At the door, I pause and glance back at Julian. He must be fighting something fierce because his expression betrays the conflict inside him. Instead of leaving, I return to him, cup his cheek, and press a soft kiss against his lips.

“If you’re worried about things changing between us because of what I remembered, don’t. I’ll see you again, tonight.”

Relief loosens the tense muscles in his face, and he nods. “Until tonight.”

Leaving Julian after so many highs is harder than I expected. As soon as the door closes behind me, I want to use my key andrun into his arms, but I won’t use him as a crutch to forget my problems. But when I enter the suite I share with Moni, Danae, Tamara, and Chelsea, I don’t have time to examine my fresh memory.

Chelsea flicks the light switch before I arrive at my door. She has her arms folded and her aura of silent judgment screams at me to confess my sins.

“You’re up early,” I say.

“Don’t even play with me. Are we having this discussion here so everyone who wakes up hears us or in a bedroom where we have privacy?”

I nod toward her door and follow behind her.

“Where were you tonight?” she demands. “Heels like those mean you went places.”

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