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Amelia
Hunched over on the couch, I tapped my fingernails on the coffee table. There was no clock in the tiny hole in the wall. But I knew I’d been stuck in there for three hours based on the shows I’d watched. There was nothing else to do and I needed to keep my mind busy. Whoever I was supposed to be hiding from should have been gone. Liam made it sound like it wouldn’t be that long. Maybe that was just so you wouldn’t fight it.
The nervous tapping wasn’t helping. It was hard to breathe, and my chest felt like it was closing. I needed to move. I jumped up from the couch and paced in the small walking space behind the couch.
How stupid could I have been? This man kidnapped me then because he was nice to me, I let him lead me right into this tiny cell. Maybe he planned to keep me in here instead of the Master bedroom.
“Maybe this was his plan all along. First, lock me in his bedroom to get me used to being locked up, then put me in this even smaller room as my permanent home,” I muttered to myself before plopping back onto the couch.
I held my head in my hands and continued the conversation with myself. “How could I have been so stupid? I let my guard down and allowed myself to get close to him—to have sex with him—a murderer.”
I couldn’t stand to stay in that room long term. I’d go crazy. I was already talking to myself. It was a short jump to crazy from there. I couldn’t stay still. I was too on edge. I needed to keep moving—to burn off some of the nervous energy. I grabbed another soda from the mini fridge and paced again.
What if something had happened? What if Liam wasn’t coming back? I needed to take charge of the situation and find a way out for myself.
I couldn’t wait for someone to come save me. I needed to be my own white knight.
The room was dim with only a table lamp and the T.V. to offer light. I felt along the line of the hidden door until I felt the smooth metal keyhole. I gripped the small ledge on the side and pulled but it wouldn’t budge. Of course, he had locked the door. I was his captive after all. I searched the side table where the lamp sat. There was a small drawer, but it was stuck. I wiggled and pulled without any luck. Changing positions to give myself better leverage, I pulled with all my strength. The drawer released and I flew backward as the contents scattered on the floor. Inside was a pack of cards and a copy of The Art of War. There was no key. Nothing that would help me open the door.
I went to the mini-fridge and searched for anything I could use to pry open the door but there were only a few snacks and drinks inside.
A toilet behind a hanging curtain caught my eye and I hurried over to it. I lifted the tank cover and was happy to see the long thin metal arm attached to the handle. If I could get that loose, I might be able to use it to pry open the door.
As a little girl, I was practically glued to my father’s side. I wanted to do everything with him. One evening after work, my mother was complaining that the toilet wouldn’t flush. I’d helped my dad change out the old toilet arm and handle. I didn’t have the wrench like my dad used but I had to try.
I struggled with the nut for several minutes but finally, when I thought I couldn’t do anymore, I managed one last burst of energy and the nut slipped loose. I finished unscrewing it and removed the thin metal arm.
I couldn’t stay in that room another minute. I ran to the invisible door and wiggled the arm between the door and the wall. I slid it up and down, feeling for the lock. Once I’d arranged the arm in the right place, I used it as a lever to pry open the door but instead, the metal arm snapped.
“Shit,” I yelled and threw the piece of metal across the small room. I banged on the door with both fists, calling out for anyone who might hear me.
My arms felt like lead as they dropped to my sides, and my hands throbbed with pain. I fell to my knees, holding my face in my hands as I cried.
I cried until there were no tears left. Finally, I got off the floor and brushed myself off. Why was I letting myself get so upset? If Liam thought that he could keep me locked in this tiny room he had another thing coming. When he came back to get me, I would make a run for it.
I needed something to defend myself with just in case. No matter what it took I had to get out of there. I couldn’t keep living as a captive. I was not an animal. I was not a criminal. There was no reason to have me locked up, leaving me wondering when or if he would even come back.
I sat on the couch and shuffled the stack of cards. While playing a game of solitaire, I stared at the cards. I’d worked myself into a stalemate and couldn’t find a way out of it. Fitting. As my eyes scanned the cards once more, I noticed one I’d overlooked and started playing again.
Sometimes the answer is right under your nose. It might seem silly, but that little victory gave me new hope to find a way out.
I stood and scanned the room again, looking for anywhere I hadn’t looked before. I glanced over at the couch, the cushion slightly askew from where I’d been. I remembered back to when my brother and I used to dig through the couch cushions for our parents’ loose change for ice cream money.
I lifted the cushions off the couch. Interestingly, it was a pull-out sofa bed. A person’s feet would practically be against the television with how small the room was, but I suppose that was better than sleeping on the narrow couch. I scooted the coffee table out of the way and pulled the lever to unfold the bed. Just as the mattress began to fold out, there was a loud clunk from underneath the couch.
I reached between the metal bars and my hands landed on a small tin box. I lifted it and was relieved it wasn’t locked. Folding the couch back, I sat down and opened the box. A loaded pistol sat on top of a small picture album. I took a deep breath and put the gun to the side before thumbing through the album. Inside were pictures of who I assumed was Liam as a young boy. His mother held him on her hip while a stern looking man stood nearby.
She was a beautiful woman with curly, dark hair pulled up in a neat ponytail. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes and there was clearly a faint green and yellow bruise on her cheek. I studied the man I assumed was Liam’s father. He looked mean and I wondered if he was the cause of that bruise on the woman’s cheek. Maybe that was why Liam never mentioned him.
I sat the album to the side and dug through the box. There was a small velvet pouch, a few pieces of paper, and a passport. I sat the papers aside and emptied the pouch. A female wedding ring set fell into my hand along with a single key.
Hope swelled in my chest as I put the rings away and gripped the key as though it were my lifeline. I ran to the door and tested it in the lock. With a little jiggle, the lock turned and clicked into place. I slid the door open slowly, peering out at the now dark closet and through to the dim bedroom past it.
I hurried into the room and slipped on my shoes. I was free, but where was Liam? He could still be in the house. Or he could have left Chase behind. I had to be careful. The full moon’s light streamed through the windows, giving me enough light to find my way down the stairs and into the near pitch-black living room. My jacket hung by the door, and I grabbed it just in case. Liam always kept the front door locked, but as I slowly twisted the knob, it opened. What could have been so urgent that Liam would have left the door unlocked?
A jolt of panic ran through me. What if something had happened to Liam?
“This is the same man who tied you up and held you prisoner for three weeks,” I whispered to myself.
Holding my breath, I stepped outside by myself for the first time in weeks. I put on my coat as I crept down the steps and into the yard. Once I was off the creaky wooden planks, I bolted toward the main road. I had no idea where I was going, but I needed to get as far away from that house as I could.
Liam left me locked in that room for hours. It was late by the look of the abandoned road. I ran for nearly half an hour before growing headlights in the distance caught my eye. A flash of worry struck as I thought of the possibility it could be Liam or Chase returning, but as the vehicle neared, I recognized the shape of the eighteen-wheeler.
I waved my hands in the air and prayed it wouldn’t be some crazy person. The truck came to a stop and to my surprise, a middle-aged woman stuck her head out the driver side window.
“Hey honey, what are you doing out here this time of night?”
“I was hoping to get a ride.”
“Sure thing. Hop on in. It’s freezing out there. You’re going to catch a cold.”
“Thank you.” I climbed up into the cab of the truck and buckled.
“What’s got you out here in the middle of the night?”
“A guy.” I couldn’t bring myself to lie to her, but I also didn’t want to involve her in the full details. She might have thought I was crazy.
“Say no more.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Men.”
I gave her a smile and we started down the road.
“So where are you headed?”
“Anywhere but here. Preferably somewhere with a phone so I can call someone to pick me up.”
“There’s a truck stop about ten miles up the road. I plan to stay there for the night. You can use my cell to call and have whoever pick you up from there.”
“Thank you. That sounds perfect.”
She handed me her cellphone and I dialed the only person I could think of calling. I was just about to give up when I heard an answer.
“Hello?”
“Detective Stevenson?”
“Yeah, who is this?”
“It’s Amelia.”
“Amelia? What’s wrong? Where are you?”
“I’m on the road, headed for a truck stop right off exit 56.”
“I’ll meet you there. I’m on my way.”
Liam
“Alright, I’m here to break you out.” Chase’s welcomed voice echoed in the hall that led to my holding cell.
“Damn, it’s about time.” I stood up from the edge of my cot and rushed to the barred door.
“It would have helped if you’d actually given me a call.”
“That asshole detective refused to let me use the phone. Said he could hold me without charging me or letting me use the phone. Then, he disappeared.”
“We gotta talk about that asshole but first, let’s get you out of here.” He motioned behind him. We weren’t alone. Another police officer came up and unlocked my door.
Once we got my phone back, I rushed to Chase’s car.
“I’ve got to get back to the cabin ASAP. Amelia’s probably panicking being locked in my hidden room all this time.”
“Shit, I didn’t think about that.”
Chase ran around to his side of the car and jumped in. We barely had time to close our doors before he flew out of the parking lot.
As we sped down the highway, Chase glanced my way. “We gotta talk.”
“If it’s about Amelia, I know I can’t keep holding her like I have been. I really think if I tell her—”
“It’s not about that.”
“What is it?”
“It’s about Stevenson. He’s in on the corruption deals with Judge Andrews.”
“That lowlife?”
“Intel says he’s one of their clean-up guys. He helps make sure cases go the way they need them to.”
“Shit.” I sliced my hand through my hair. “I should have known. It’s probably why he insisted on taking Amelia into WITSEC himself.”
“I arranged a tail on him after I found out. They should be in place by morning.”
“Good. I want to know everyone he comes in contact with. He might be able to lead us to the big hitters.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
We pulled up at the cabin just before the sun would be rising. I jumped out of the car before Chase could put it in park and ran for the front door. I stuck my key into the lock, but it was already open. Fear rushed through my whole body, pumping pure adrenaline through my veins. I pushed open the door and glanced from side to side, clearing each room as I went. Maybe I’d forgotten to lock up before leaving with Detective Stevenson. I couldn’t remember locking the door. I let my guard down, running a beeline to the closet. Poor Amelia had been locked in there for hours. She was probably terrified and most likely pissed that I’d left her there so long.
I’d have to make it up to her—even if it wasn’t my fault.
I pushed open the closet door and froze at the sight of the hidden door open wide. The inside was a mess. My hidden fire-safe box laid open on the floor and the velvet pouch was open on top. She’d found the key. I was both relieved and worried at the same time. Amelia got out on her own and ran. But she was gone. She ran from me after I’d thought we were getting so close.
I needed to find her so I could explain everything. She needed to know I would never have left her there by choice. She needed to know how I felt about her, the truth about who I was, and why I couldn’t say anything sooner.
“Liam,” Chase called with urgency as he rushed into the bedroom.
“She’s gone. She ran away from me.”
“I know. But we got bigger problems.”
“What do you mean?” I turned back to look at his worried expression.
“I just got word from one of my contacts at the station. Detective Stevenson got a phone call just before he left you to rot in that cell. He was overheard addressing the person as Amelia.
Shit. He had been the one who helped get her into witness protection, it made sense she would turn to him at a time when she didn’t know who she could trust. “We gotta find her.”
“Already on it. I’ve got guys keeping their eye out for his car, but he’d be too smart for a tail. I’ve set up checkpoints. Last time he was spotted going south on ninety-five.”
“I know where he’s going.”