Lost & Bound (7 page)

“A bad man?” I ask.

Callum chuckles. “He’s a politician, so I
guess he could be considered a bad man. Her mother was nice though.”

“What about your mother,” I question. “Was
she a good woman?”

He nods his head, but he doesn’t comment.

“I want to ask you, and I understand if you
don’t want to tell me, but where is your mother?”

I watch multiple expressions cross his
face. Surprise. Sadness. Anguish. I don’t mean to dampen his mood, but it’s
something I’ve wondered about for all these years. Who was Emmy and where did
she go?

“She had cancer,” he croaks out.

“I’m sorry.”

He offers me a somber smile. “It was quick,
she didn’t suffer long.”

“You miss her, no?”

He nods his head. “I do.”

He looks sad for a moment, his eyes meeting
mine. “In the same way your mother misses you.”

“You think my mother still thinks about
me?
” I ask.

“Every day,” he answers softly.

“She would have given up on me.”

“Never.” His fingertips graze my arm in a
completely innocent gesture, but goose bumps still rise on my skin in response.
“I’m sure she knows you’re alive. She can feel it.”

I don’t think about home often, it hurts
too much remembering. The memories trigger an ache deep inside my chest.

“What was your mother like?” I ask. “Was
she kind like you?”

He looks at my face, his lips turning down
at the sides. Maybe my question was too much, too personal, but then he starts
talking again.

“She was a good mom, but a better wife. She
was married to the town too.” He swallows, his eyes focus on a piece of lint
he’s been rolling between his fingers. “She liked that my father needed her,
but there was always something missing, some sadness that I sensed.”

“Do you think your father used to…
”
I can’t finish the sentence.

“I don’t think so.” His eyes meet mine. “I
don’t think she would have stuck around.”

He is silent for a long moment, as if he’s
really thinking about things, analyzing the past few years of his mother’s
life.

“But who knows, Leila. I wouldn’t have
thought my father would lock a woman in the basement and hold her against her
will, but here we are.”

I offer him a weak smile.
Here we are.

“I’m sorry this happened to you.” He takes
my hand in his. His fingers dance across my skin, stroking me softly. He
lightly grazes the inside of my wrist and then his eyes flash up to mine.

I turn my wrist over and watch his eyes
widen as the shocking realization crosses his face.

Callum

A long white scar lines the inside of her
left wrist. I reach forward with my other hand and run my fingertips along the
uneven, raised bump. She flinches at first, but when I continue stroking, she
doesn’t pull away.

“You did this?”

Her eyes shy away from my gaze, dancing
around the room as if searching for an escape.

“Leila?”

“I wanted it to end. I tried to end it
all,” she murmurs.

“While you were here?” I don’t need to ask.
I already know the answer.

She nods her head once.

“How?” my voice croaks out of me.

“In the shower with my shaver. I didn’t do
it right. I didn’t cut deep enough or something. I sat in the shower all night,
waiting to bleed out—waiting to die. He came in the morning and found me.
He sent some doctor to stitch me up. I thought the doctor would save me, but he
didn’t acknowledge me as a human being. He just stitched me up, gave me some
drugs and left. He wouldn’t even look at my face.”

“Fuck.”

I shudder when I think about that night and
what Leila must have went through. She sat in the shower, waiting for death to
take her in. I never want her to feel that way again—to feel as if
there’s no way out.

“Do you still want it to end?” I brace
myself for her answer, but when her response comes it surprises me.

“I’ve lived three years in this hell, I can
survive anything now.”

I let out a tense exhale. “Good.”

She holds my gaze when she speaks again.
“Hope is all I have, Callum. Hope is all I have left.”

I knew there were more to her words than
merely just speaking for the sake of it. I have given her hope. This new sense
that she has a life waiting for her and it’s now within her reach. I can’t wait
to give this girl her life back.

“Tell me about your happy place,” I say.

She furrows her brow. “Happy place?”

“The place you imagine when it gets too
much. I know you have a place where you transport yourself to, where you dream
of going again someday.”

She smiles, her lips parting slightly as
she conjures the memory. “Where I am from it is called
Maceió
. The beach is so beautiful and the water is the bluest water I’ve
ever seen.”

“It sounds perfect.”

“That is my happy place.” She closes her
eyes, perhaps imagining herself there in this moment. “And there are monkeys,”
she tells me.

I chuckle loudly. “Swimming monkeys?” I
nudge her shoulder.

She screws up her nose. “No, silly. They
don’t swim, they are on the beach.”

I smile. When Leila tries to convince me of
something she becomes so passionate. I watch a crease settle between her eyes
adorably.

“How many monkeys are there?”

“There are many, a whole family,” she says.

“And you can touch them?” I ask.

“Yes, you can touch them, no problem. And
you can feed them.”

I laugh again.

“Why are you laughing, Callum?”

“Because in America if you touch a monkey
people would worry about catching rabies.”

“Rabies?” she questions. “I do not know
what this rabies is.”

I brush my thumb along the apple of her
cheek. I can’t resist. “I love talking to you,” I tell her.

Her eyes dance from my lips, to my eyes and
then back to my lips. Her breathing intensifies and just when she’s about to
speak again, I hear a knock at the door.

Leila immediately sits upright, her body
ready to move in lightning speed. Pain shoots through her body, causing her to
wince, but she doesn’t make a sound.

“Callum,” she whispers. “Don’t let him take
me.”

I slip out from underneath the covers and
unbutton my shirt before ripping it off and throwing it to the bed.

I turn to Leila. “Don’t freak out, I’m
making it look realistic.”

I unbutton my jeans and leave them loose around
my waist as another knock sounds.

“Coming,” I shout, my heart hammering in my
chest.

I rush to the door, opening it just a
crack. My father is standing in the hallway. He looks me up and down and then
smiles.

“Everything okay, son?” he asks.

“Great.” I give him my best
just laid
smile.

“Can I speak to you for a moment?” he asks.

Fuck.

“Sure,” I answer casually.

I step outside the room, leaning against
the doorframe casually. “What’s up?”

“How is she? Good, eh?” He smirks.

“Sure is.”

“Her English is poor though,” he starts.
It’s more of a question than a statement.

I chuckle. “Yeah, she hasn’t said a word.
We haven’t been doing much talking if you get my drift.”

He laughs, the sound rippling through the
corridor.

“So you’re going to be with her all night?”
he asks and I get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I don’t know if he’s asking because he
wants Leila to himself, but I know I can’t give her up after promising she can
stay with me for the night.

“I’m not quite done.” I rub my fingers
along my chin thoughtfully. “Would like another couple of hours with her if I
could.” It’s not a question.

“No problem. Have her until morning.” He
shrugs. “Try not to leave her alone,” he adds casually. “These girls tend to
have light fingers.”

Fucking asshole.
He is trying to tell me that Leila’s the one to watch out for.

“Sure.”

I exaggerate a yawn.

His lip quirks up as he
slaps me on the shoulder.
“I’ll let you get back
in there. Enjoy, son.”

He turns and walks down the hallway heading
toward his own bedroom. I head back into my room, closing the door and locking
it behind me. I turn to see Leila standing at the edge of the bed, her face
panic stricken.

“Is he taking me back?” she asks, her eyes
wide with worry.

“No, not at all.” I walk over to her. Her
gaze travels down my body and I remember I took my shirt off to answer the
door. “We’ve got all night,” I tell her as I button my jeans again. Taking my
shirt from the bed I slip it back on.

“I was just trying to look the part,” I
explain. I feel her eyes watching my every move.

She steps around
me and
walks
to her side of the bed, giggling as she does so.

“What’s so funny?”

I leave my shirt undone and slide back
under the covers.

“You are,” she says without further
explanation.

She lies on her side, facing me.

“Thank you,” she whispers as her eyes drift
closed.

“For what?” I ask. I watch a soft smile
grace her lips, but she doesn’t answer.

And moments later, she’s
sound asleep.

***

I’ve been watching her sleep for hours. The
slow rise and fall of her chest, every now and then a murmur escapes her lips.
She looks at peace when she sleeps and that offers me some comfort. I need to
get her out of this hellhole, and fast. That’s the only way I will sleep easy.

Every time I close my eyes I’m haunted by
images from the party. The things they made Leila do, the things that were done
to her—it was too much.

I look at her wrist.
The
long white scar that represents a dark day in her life.
I wish I could
take the pain of that memory away from her. I think of her sitting on the
bathroom floor waiting for death to take her.

I reach forward, tucking some loose strands
of hair behind her ear. She leans into my touch before her eyes finally flutter
open.

“Callum,” she murmurs softly.

“How are you, sleepy?” I smile at her while
running a finger along the bow of her lip.

Before she can answer, I speak again. “I
have to leave soon.”

Her face changes, the realization that our
time together is ending causes the light to fade from her eyes.

“I don’t want my dad to get suspicious,” I
add.

“I understand.”

I miss the playful Leila from earlier, but
my impending departure has well and truly dulled her mood.

“When will I see you again?” She flutters
her eyelashes as she looks at me.

It’s almost as if she’s toying with my
emotions without even knowing it. The tone of her voice alone is enough to make
my heart ache at having to leave her alone with my father.

“I don’t know.” I sigh. “Maybe on Tuesday
while he’s at work.”

She gasps as she sits upright. “But that’s
four days away.”

She’s well and truly awake now.

“I know, but I can’t stop by and visit you
during the weekend. My dad will know something’s up if I keep dropping by.”

Her bottom lip sticks out as if she’s
pouting.

“Hey.” I grab her hand in mine. “It’s only
a few days. I need to work some stuff out.”

I don’t elaborate on what and she doesn’t
ask.

She nods her head knowingly. “It’s just
hard when you’re not here and I’m alone with…him.”

She looks down at her hands in her lap. Her
hair falls forward, creating the perfect frame for her beautiful face.

“I’m sorry,” I say gently. “But I promise I
will be back and you won’t have to stay here much longer.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t fool me.

I let out a breath. I’m itching to reach
forward and touch her, reassure her, but I stop myself.

“Please be strong, Leila,” I say. “For me.”

She looks up at me from under her lashes
and I feel the intensity from her gaze. There is trust in her eyes, but there’s
something else as well. Something hidden beyond their depths and I want to know
what she is thinking, I want to be invited in.

I watch Leila as she slips out from
underneath the covers and takes off the clothes I gave her the night before. It
gave me a sense of pride to see her in my old hoodie and track pants, more than
I care to admit. Now they sit in a pile on the floor as she slips back into her
ridiculous outfit that my father chose especially for her.

I subtly assess the wounds on her back.
Her skin is marred by welts that look worse in the light of a new
day
. I grind my teeth together to stop the curse from tumbling out of my
mouth. I can’t save this girl soon enough.