Page 19 of Blackbird


  “Suddenly my mother wanted me with her all the time. She didn’t want me with Nadia even though Nadia was the one who kept our house running . . . the one who felt like a mom to me. And then my mother started grooming me to be the girl she thought I needed to be, the adult she wanted me to be. She told me how to act and what to say, who to see and not to see. She told me what I would need to look for in a husband one day . . . all while they constantly used me for my voice. Anytime we were anywhere, ‘Have you heard Briar’s voice? Briar, sing for this gentleman.’” That bitterness in her eyes burned as she continued. “And soon, men my father’s age wanted to touch my hand or my arm, the small of my back or the back of my thigh. They wanted me to stand closer to them so they could accidentally brush my breast or tease my waist as they showed me pictures and made me read contracts while they caged me against the desk to read over my shoulder.”

  I was vibrating as white-hot rage coursed through my veins, as visuals I didn’t want flashed through my mind. I already had a bullet for every single one of those men, and I didn’t even know their names.

  “‘Just remember to keep smiling at him, Briar,’ my mother would say. ‘Don’t wear those pants, Briar, a skirt is more fitting for this meeting—a shorter skirt. He didn’t mean to touch you, Briar, he was just reaching for the paper. We could’ve had a record deal years ago if you would just keep your mouth shut, Briar.’ It was endless for years, and I began hating my voice and my parents’ money as they paid off man after man at these record labels so they wouldn’t sue us because I’d thrown coffee on one or kneed another when they touched me.

  “And throughout that time, Nadia was the only one on my side. She’d sneak into my room at night, lie down next to me, and sing until I was singing with her. Then she’d repeat the words she’d said to me before it had all begun. On my eighteenth birthday, I walked in on my mother handing Nadia a check and telling her not to contact me ever again. But Nadia was so much more than my nanny. She was my best friend, my mom, my teacher—she was everything. I didn’t think she would give in to my mother’s demands . . . but she did. I never heard from her again. And I’ve never let anyone use my voice, or intentionally hear it, since. I didn’t sing for an entire year after that morning.”

  “Briar . . .” I said softly and began reaching out for her but stopped at the look she gave me. A look that told me she was just getting started.

  “I never told Kyle any of that.” She whispered so quietly the words were almost lost by the time they reached me, and I tried not to react to the mention of the man waiting for her in Atlanta. “I never felt like I could—I didn’t think he would understand because he continuously pushed the issue no matter how many times I asked him to stop. He always wanted me to keep singing, and he always wondered why I wouldn’t. But only because he was so sure that with my voice, I could have whatever I wanted. He never realized that I sang when I was scared, or that I was scared of my voice. He thought I was afraid of failing.”

  She closed the distance between us, each step slow and calculated. Once she was close enough, I slid one hand around her waist and the other around the back of her neck, using her hair to tilt her head back so I could study those eyes that captivated me.

  “I hate that you have so much money that you buy women. I hate that you bought me at all, but mostly that you bought me because I started singing. I hate the circumstances that brought me to you, but I love you and am thankful I’m here with you all the same.”

  My chest ached and filled with warmth. I wanted to kiss her and thank her for trusting me with her past. I wanted to erase every bad memory and replace them with ones of us now, but she didn’t realize what she’d just said . . .

  As much as I wanted what she was saying to be true, it wasn’t, and it never would be. It couldn’t.

  “You don’t,” I said thickly, forcing the words out through the tightness in my throat.

  Confusion covered her face and her brows drew together. “I don’t what?”

  “You don’t love me.”

  I felt the shock that went through her body, but she didn’t try to pull away from me. Instead, she gripped my shirt in her hands like she was pleading with me in her touch alone.

  “Lucas . . .”

  My eyes slid shut, and I released a slow, weighted breath. “You don’t, Briar.”

  “I know you think you don’t know how to love someone, but you do, you have been. You know what love is, and I have never been more aware of how loved I am by someone than I am by you.”

  I ground my jaw and finally looked at her again. Instead of disagreeing with her, I said, “You can’t love me, because you don’t know me.”

  I hated the hurt in her eyes. I hated that I was putting it there. I hated everything I was, hated that I would never be enough for the girl I didn’t know how to let go of. Couldn’t let go of.

  “Yes, I do,” she choked out. “I’ve seen it, I’ve felt it, I’ve experienced your darkness and your monsters, and I’m still here. Haven’t I proven myself yet? Haven’t I proven I am not going anywhere? That you can’t make me run?” Her gripping hands flattened and moved up to curve around my neck. “I knew to fall in love with you I had to fall in love with the devil, too. I am not as naïve as you think I am.”

  “But you have no idea exactly how heartless your devil is,” I said darkly.

  “Then let me see—”

  “I won’t let you into that part of my world,” I said on a growl. Just the thought of her being in a situation to see me like that—to see that part of my world—chilled me in a way that made me feel sick. “All of this will change the minute you see it. Trust me when I say you’ll never be able to look at me the same, and I won’t be able to live with myself if that day ever comes.”

  “You can’t know that,” she argued, her words still sounding like a plea.

  “Think of your worst memories with me, Blackbird,” I ordered gently. “Think of what I told you about the shootout with my brothers. Think about what William did to you. Now try to grasp that all of that is nothing compared to what I have done, and what I do, without feeling a thing.”

  I waited for it to sink in, and after a few moments, it did. And there was that look in her eyes I’d come to dread and hate—fear and uncertainty. But I could still see her love for me.

  Unfailing and undeserving.

  “Didn’t you hear me the first time?” she finally asked as tears filled her eyes. “The darkest part of your soul terrifies me, but, Lucas, I’m not going anywhere.”

  One day, she would. One day this illusion would shatter. And on that day? She would go running back to the man I knew was still waiting for her. Didn’t she realize that allowing myself to fall in love with her only for her to be ripped away from me was something I couldn’t let happen?

  Losing her had broken me.

  Losing Briar would destroy me.

  Chapter 32

  Shadow

  Briar

  After making a sandwich, I downed a bottle of water as I padded through the house to the office then cracked another bottle open when I sat down in front of the computer.

  I’d spent hours outside, alternating between swimming and just lying on one of the chairs, soaking up the sun. After the first morning Lucas had taken me out back, I had spent nearly every day out there. The days I didn’t think I could take any more sun without getting heatstroke, I lay in the cabana reading.

  Anything to be outside.

  I slowly picked at my sandwich as I opened up Lucas’s e-mail and started one to him.

  He had given me his credit card number a few weeks ago, but I didn’t want to have control of his money.

  I’d shredded the paper that contained the number in front of him.

  But I couldn’t have a job, not without risking men from Lucas’s world finding out—women working was not allowed—and sometimes this house and my life became very mundane when Lucas was gone during the day.

  So I’d finally given in.

/>   Now I e-mailed him the titles and authors’ names of the books I wanted from his own e-mail address, and he bought them for me.

  Once the e-mail for new books was sent, I scrolled through the list of his unread e-mails, looking for any he had flagged and unlocked for me to read.

  I straightened in the chair and smiled when I saw three from William, the subject showed they were just a few of many replies in the chain of Recipes for Briar e-mails from William’s women.

  I scrolled through until I was at the beginning of the new ones, and printed out two recipes, then scanned the conversations from today.

  Lucas, it has been weeks since we last saw Briar. Let her come over!

  We love you.

  All of us.

  No. You can come see her.

  I rolled my eyes at his terse reply. It wasn’t any of their faults I couldn’t stand being around William.

  A chime sounded through the computer, and I glanced around the large screen until a small conversation window popped up in the corner after a delay. All it said was ‘Hello?’ but I couldn’t see who it was from. There was only a gray circle with an X through it as the sender, so I exited out of it and went back to finishing the e-mail.

  Always so grouchy, Lucas! Karina has now grabbed the wooden spoon; you have been warned. If that is how you must be, let William know what day we can come see her. Sahira wants to know if Briar would like us to schedule a spa day at your house, and we all want to know if she is pregnant yet. We need a grandchild to play with now that all of the children are grown and gone.

  I knew I had to look horrified as I stared at the e-mail.

  Pregnant? Kids with Lucas?

  Of course I’d wanted to be a mom. I’d wanted that for so long, to be someone as nurturing and kind as Nadia had been to me before she abandoned me. I thought that coveted future was going to be a reality sooner rather than later. But then everything I thought I’d known had been torn from me, and I’d learned that while I’d loved before, I’d never loved wholly.

  And now I had that love . . . but I couldn’t have children. Not with Lucas.

  I was sure—I was so sure that he loved me too, even if he refused to understand he was capable of loving someone. But I knew that despite that love, and despite how different we were from the rest of the people in his world, he still had every intention of buying another girl. And another. And it would destroy me when that time came, destroy what we had.

  If we had a child, it would just push my heart and my mind into thinking we could have more than this; that we could have everything. And I wasn’t reckless enough to not take his words to heart; I knew we couldn’t.

  “No. No babies,” I whispered numbly, and tried to ignore the aching in my chest as I exited out of the e-mail.

  I took the last bite of the sandwich, and started to roll away from the desk as I dragged the cursor up to shut off the computer when two chimes sounded through the computer. After another delay, the same conversation window popped up.

  X: Are you there?

  X: Briar?

  I jerked back in the seat, and stared at the screen like the words would attack me. After nearly a minute passed, I clicked on the box and let my fingers hover over the keyboard for another moment before responding.

  LH: Yes.

  X: Briar Rose Chapman?

  The full name came within a split second of my reply. Fear coursed through me, making my heart beat faster. Part of me screamed to shut off the computer, but I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t address the name.

  LH: No, I’m sorry, you have the wrong person. My name is Briar Holt.

  I bit nervously at my bottom lip as I waited for a reply, but didn’t have to wait long.

  X: Briar is a pretty unique name. But it’s okay. I know who you are and I’m here to help you.

  Get off the computer, get off the computer, get off the computer! I screamed at myself.

  LH: I don’t know who you are, and I don’t need help. Goodbye.

  X: I can get you home. I can get you back to your life.

  That familiar ache flared at the thought of returning to everything that was familiar but was followed by a stronger one. Because as I’d known for some time now . . . it wouldn’t be much of a life without Lucas. Instead of responding, I clicked on random parts of the window to try to figure out who this X was.

  X: You don’t have to say anything. I know you’re scared. I’ll get you out of there, but I’m going to need your help.

  LH: I don’t need your help. You have the wrong Briar, and you are what’s scaring me. Leave me alone.

  X: Do you know what Stockholm syndrome is?

  My eyes narrowed, but again, I didn’t respond.

  Of course I do.

  I’d taken a psychology class in college, and while I didn’t remember everything from that class, I remembered fragments. The lectures on Stockholm syndrome being one of them.

  And what little I remembered of it was half of my reasoning on why I’d first let Lucas touch me all those months ago. It was why I’d tried to keep Lucas at a distance afterward, even when it became so clear that my feelings for him had been shaped from who he was as a person, and not because I’d formed some twisted bond with him because he’d kept me locked in a room or had saved me from his mentor.

  I had finally found the e-mail address linked with X, which was really just a bunch of random letters that looked like a spam account, when he sent message after message of long definitions for Stockholm syndrome.

  My eyes darted quickly over what he had sent me but nothing triggered. Nothing made me question my love for Lucas or my want to be with him. I was acutely aware of what we would look like to someone on the outside of Lucas’s world. I knew what we looked like on paper, but this person didn’t understand my relationship with Lucas at all.

  Hostages express sympathy . . . have feelings toward captors . . . defend . . . identify with . . . mistake lack of abuse for kindness . . . strong emotional ties . . . one person harasses, abuses, threatens the other . . .

  “William and his women,” I mumbled to the screen once I finished reading.

  That’s who those words described. And even though I hadn’t met anyone else, I had no doubt those definitions would fit the bonds between the other men of this world and their stolen women.

  LH: Thank you for the lesson, although it wasn’t necessary. Leave me alone.

  X: Think about it, I can get you out safely.

  I immediately pulled up Lucas’s e-mail and started a new one to him. I flagged it as urgent, put nothing but exclamation marks in the subject, and only five words in the body:

  Someone found me through you.

  The landline rang a few minutes later, the shrill tone causing me to jump in the chair. I hurried to answer it and tensed when I heard Lucas ordering the driver to go faster. His tone had an edge to it that sent a shiver of fear through me even though his threats weren’t directed at me.

  “Luc—”

  “Where are you?” he growled closer to the phone.

  “In your office.”

  “Are you safe, yes or no?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Don’t stop,” he snapped at the driver then came back to me. “We’re headed back to the house, I’m only a few minutes away. I need you to open the bottom right drawer in my main desk.”

  I did as he said. “Okay.”

  “Take out the false bottom, then open that safe. It’s the same code you use to call out on the landline.”

  “Is there anything in your life that isn’t secret and locked up?” I asked, exasperated.

  “Can’t afford it. Now—”

  “What am I supposed to do with these?” I yelled as I stared at the handguns and extra magazines of rounds.

  “Grab one and go to my room. Lock yourself in there.”

  I shook my head quickly. “No, this isn’t necessary. You’re overreacting.”

  “Bri—”

  “I’ve never eve
n touched one of these in my life.”

  His voice boomed through the phone. “Briar, don’t you understand what is happening right now?”

  “Yes, but I’m not in any danger. It was just on the computer.”

  “Computer or not, if you’ve been found we’re all in danger. Take a gun and go lock yourself in my bedroom closet. If anyone is already in the house, shoot them. If someone tries to get in the closet that isn’t me, shoot them. Understand?”

  “Yes,” I whispered weakly. I felt nauseous thinking about holding one of the guns in front of me.

  “And, Blackbird,” he said, his tone lighter and with a hint of amusement, “keep your finger off the trigger. I don’t feel like getting shot today.”

  By the time I finally grabbed the smallest gun in the mini safe and walked out of the office, Lucas was storming into the house with a murderous look on his face.

  “What happened?” he demanded as soon as he saw me from across the hall.

  “I don’t want this.” I held the gun out toward him with it between two of my fingers.

  Lucas gripped the gun in his large hand to take it from me, and passed it to the driver as he came hurrying in behind him. “Stay with her after I’m gone. If anything happens . . .” He let the warning trail off and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Now tell me what happened, Briar.”

  My eyes weren’t leaving where his hands were now hidden. I tried to tell myself it was just his fear and anger that had him reacting like this, but the sight of his stance still sent ice through my veins. “Um, I uh . . .” I shook my head and forced myself to look up into the fury in his dark eyes instead. “I was checking e-mails. This guy started messaging me. He knew who I was, and he was saying—well, I left it up there.”