Page 60 of His Captive

Nothing.

Wrinkled sheets on the side she’s slept are the only proof that she’s ever been here. I don't care that I’m half naked when I dart to the door, ripping it open, to scan the motel parking lot. There’s no sign of her on foot, and when I look across the street to the bar where we’d met, Millie’s car is already gone. I dry myself just enough to dress, grabbing my cell and keys from the bedside table, and in my hurry only just noticed the note I disturb from beneath them. Snatching it up, I read her handwriting.

Ethan,

I will never be able to thank you enough for what you gave me last night, now give me this last thing.

Don’t follow me.

Don’t come for me.

I’ve seen what he is capable of and I couldn’t bear for him to hurt you.

I have many regrets in my life. Last night will never be one of them, no matter what the consequence.

Forever yours,

Millie

Xxxxx

I crumple the note in my palm, tossing it to the ground, then scream so loud the motel feels like it will fall to rubble around me. I tear the place in half. Rip up the sheets, pull down the cheap wood chip wardrobe from the wall, and smash the canvas used to hide the damp patch behind it. Then I stop, breathing, heavy deep breathes that don’t quite filled my chest.

I leave ten minutes later, leaving more than enough cash on the bed to pay for any damages.

My head is clear enough to know what I have to do. My plan isn’t gonna change. I’m not giving up on her again, not now that I know she isn’t happy, and especially not after seeing what Sorrento has done to her. No, I’m gonna straighten up business, put everything in place, and by this time tomorrow Millie will be safe, because she’ll be mine.

I call my contact from my cell, bribe him with a generous sum to have the ID’s ready in time for tonight, then book plane tickets to France, in the names he tells me to use. I drive back to my place and pack the essentials. I will get Millie whatever the fuck she wants when we’re away from here. I’m not the guy she knew before. I can take care of her now. Lavish her with the things she deserves, and she’ll have it fucking all.

I spend a few hours in the office, emailing instructions to my company directors. There’s too much to deal with in the short time I have, but everything can be handled properly once we’re settled. I have a strong enough team that I can trust with business for a while.

I pace while I wait for my contact to get hold of me. The flights are booked for 10:15 p.m. and that’s cutting it close, especially considering I still have to convince Millie that if she will just trust me, we will both be safe.

He comes through in the end, meeting me with the ID’s and all the paperwork we need to vanish without a trace.

I drive through Cannonville, a town that yesterday morning I’d intended on taking from Sorrento for revenge, and make my way to the home of my enemy.

His house sits on the top of the hill like a fucking castle. Knowing what I know now, it seems much more a prison, trapping Millie and keeping her from me.

Not for much longer.

I drive through the woodland, along the single track road, and to the gravel drive, where only Millie’s car was parked.

I recall her mentioning him being away on business. A shame, because I would have liked to cause him some pain before I take her.

I park beside her car, jogging up the steps to the front door, and let myself inside. A familiar face looks up from his hunched position on the bottom step.

“Buddy?” It’s been years since I’ve seen him. But, I’d recognize him anywhere. He’s the son of one of the maids who works for the Sorrento family. Rumors around town claim he’s Mikel Sorrento’s illegitimate son. That he’s been having his way with members of his staff for years and had kept the one he knocked up working and the boy under his roof as an obligation.

Buddy’s brain doesn’t work the way most people’s do. He always sees the best in everyone, and never seems to see any cruelty in the world. Sometimes growing up I’d envied him for that ability.

I’m not shocked that he’s still working here. I’m more surprised at the absence of the huge grin I always remember him wearing. He looks pale as a ghost and absolutely heartbroken.

“Buddy?”

“I thought you were the sheriff,” he says, steadying himself on the wall as he stands up. Loud sobs sound from the kitchen and I leave Buddy where he is, to follow them.

I open the door to two women comforting each other.

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