Page 8 of Trapped By the Bratva
That had to be the hardest sticking point of this obsession about the mystery man I couldn’t forget or dismiss. Those weird, danger-filled moments after someone broke in to grab Emily set the stage for seeing that man. It hadn’t been the time or place to be romantic. That was no damn meet-cute. Not at all.
Something had to be very wrong with me to cling to the memory of the stranger who’d shown up and acted with such authority during a crime.
He had to have been bad news. Somehow.
Normal, decent guys didn’t associate themselves with kidnappers, right?
He probably wouldn’t even remember me.
Even though details were blurry that night, I couldn’t shake the thought that he’d been eager to leave me at the hospital with parting orders to stay quiet.
Is he a cop friend of her father’s?
I was really alert now. Sleep wouldn’t be coming back to me, not easily with Melissa’s headboard banging on the wall again.
Giving up on the attempt to fall back asleep, I reached for my phone. I rolled my eyes at the texts from the landlord about the neighbors’ complaints.
Go on, then. Evict us. That’ll sever this dependence she has on me. Kick us out, and I’ll be able to go off on my own. I dare you. Kick us out.
I didn’t reply to a single one of his texts. Melissa could handle the aftermath of it. After all, as she loved to remind me and throw it in my face,hername was on the lease, not mine.
After I unlocked the screen, I searched the best I could for any posts by Becca. She was an artist, always worried about keeping up her presence on social media for the purpose of spreading word of her artwork, but I found nothing.
She was my only connection to my mystery man, but looking for recent posts shared by her was a dead end. Nothing showed up, nothing new, at least. Since before the night I’d last babysat her baby girl, zilch.
“But I got that text…” I whispered. I swiped my finger on the screen to reach my messages. Pulling up the old thread that I had with her, I saw the picture of Emily smiling up at the camera. Her toothy little grin. She was so fussy when I babysat. Her first teeth were cutting, and she wasn’t a happy camper about it. But she’d clearly gotten past that initial pain.
I studied the picture again, really paying attention to the rest of the background. I felt like a detective, sleuthing for clues. All because I wanted to see that strange man again. The guy who’d appeared and left so abruptly.
The carpet behind Emily looked plush, clean, and so thick that it almost resembled a blanket. Something… nice. It looked expensive.
So, she took this picture somewhere nice. Not her old apartment.And I’d checked that anyway once my headaches faded. Her apartment that she’d shared with Emily was vacant and empty, ready for new renters. That home hadn’t held much in terms of expensive goods—and that was why Melissa neverbothered to “show up” and see what she could steal. Becca and Emily were poor, too, and they’d been spared my sister’s greed because of it.
But it looks like she took a picture of Emily somewhere nice and fancy…
“You couldn’t have just disappeared…”
Nothing else about the photo offered details about where it could’ve been taken. Just Emily, the baby pen that she held on to, and the carpet.
Frustrated, I set my phone back on my nightstand and plugged it back in so the crappy battery would hold charge until lunchtime tomorrow.
It seemed like I’d never have a chance to see my former friend again. Her or her baby. The only almost-family that I’d wanted to be a part of.
And if I can’t find Becca…
I had nowhere to start looking for that mystery man who’d rushed in after the kidnapping.
Even if I had the means to find him or contact him, I had no clue what to say. Having the opportunity to see him again was becoming an obsession.
Whoever he was, he represented such a profound moment of security for me. I wanted to belong with someone and be needed. I wanted to matter and deliver on a purpose for someone. Working as an LPN was like being a glorified nurse’s assistant, expected to do the dirtiest dirty work and handle anything those with higher pay grades didn’t want to deal with. I started nursing school with hopes to enter the therapy field, something morethan changing bed pans and cleaning up puke. Of course, I wanted to help others, and the reward of doing so made me feel good.
But this gnawing hole inside me, this feeling of being used and stuck in a rut, wouldn’t ever be filled no matter how altruistic I was on the clock at the hospital.
I want to belongwithsomeone. Someone strong and caring—like that man.
I sighed, doubting it would ever happen. But I could make something else happen. I couldn’t keep living likethis. I had to strike out on my own. If I had to be independent and single, fine. I couldn’t live like this, under Melissa’s control, any longer. She had always been strong in a cunning, psychological way, but she never cared.
It was past time that I cared enough about myself to choose to leave for something—anything—better. Just because I couldn’t belong with anyone, I had reached the low point of knowing I had to look out for myself once and for all.
