Page 44 of One Wild Ride

“It’s not your mom I’m worried about,” I mumbled as I twisted my head to figure out where we were.

He placed his hand on my shoulder and I tensed.

“Why would you be afraid of me? I would never hurt you. Since I first laid eyes on you all those years ago, all I ever wanted to do was make you happy.”

I whipped my head around. “What? Years ago. You mean . . . weeks ago, right?”

“Shit.” Alex pulled back. “I didn’t mean to say that. It doesn’t matter,” he said waving his hands at me.

“Mr. Hawthorne, we’re here,” the driver said as the car came to a stop.

I glanced out the window and noticed we were in the Roger’s Park neighborhood, near the northern Chicago border. I recognized a restaurant I had been to before. At least, if I had to escape, I knew where I was.

The driver took us to a garage and dropped us off. Alex took me to another car—a yellow Volkswagen Karmann Ghia. Before we got inside, Alex looked under the car. When I asked him what he was doing, he only told me it was to make sure we were absolutely alone. That answer didn’t help my anxiety. I glanced around to find an escape. Before I could get away, he put his hand on my arm, opening the car door, blocking my escape.

I thought that was where he wanted to talk but we ended up going north, out of the city and to a motel. My eyes took in every road sign and turn we made. When I got away, I’d knew where to run.

I tried to think of an excuse to not go into the motel room, but Alex pulled me inside. Not much had changed in this room for a few decades. It smelled of mildew and everything was either brown or dark green.

If he thought I was compliant he would be more likely to leave me alone, and then I could escape. I sat on the bed and tucked my hands under my thighs.

“Is this where you plan to kill me? I have to say, Alex, I thought if you were going to off me it would be in a classier place.”

I, obviously, wasn’t very good at being compliant when it came to possibly being killed.

“Why do you think I want to kill you?” Alex asked as he sat on his knees in front of me.

“Because I’m married.” I crossed my arms around myself feeling my old life creep back in.

That life would be right at home in a room like this.

“I’m not going to kill you because of that. I’m not going to hurt you at all, ever. I only want to find out the truth and knowing my mother, she would find a way to listen in on what we say. I don’t want what you tell me to be twisted later into something unrecognizable from her.”

My shoulders slumped as I decided to stop making excuses to run from Alex. He wasn’t going to kill me. If he had wanted to harm me, he had plenty of times in the weeks I have known him to do it. I think I was only worried that he would see the real me.

Maybe, like my parents, he wouldn’t like what he saw.

As much as I didn’t want him to see, it was time to own up. Out of everyone I knew, I guess Alex would be the one that would most understand.

“My father, he’s a lawyer. Not the type of lawyer you think of, but the one who works for the scum of the Earth—you know, the mob, criminals, even a few terrorist organizations last I heard.” I felt sick talking about him.

Alex moved up to the bed and sat next to me, placing his arm around me. Until he pulled me close, I hadn’t realized I was shaking.

“When I was a teenager, my father went to work for a group in California. They called themselves the Freedom for Oppressed Peoples. I was so happy he was finally working with a good organization. He took me and my sister to a party they had. I was excited because I wanted to find out more about helping people. I had a dream since I was young to use my art to help others.”

I shook my head but continued, “But the name of the organization was a front. It was another criminal organization. But this one wanted to infiltrate the government. They were Russian. They wanted to work to destroy various governments around the world, giving them the power. And my father offered me and my sister up to two of their high-ranking officials so they could get citizenship.”

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Aria.”

Alex’s fingers began to rub my back and it felt good. It helped to settle my nerves.

“We were left at the party and locked in a room together. My sister told me at the first chance I got, I should run. So, that’s what I did. The next day I was forced to sign some paperwork. They left me alone in the room with the man they had told me I married. Most of the things the people said was in Russian, which I didn’t understand. But the worst part wasn’t the fact that I was married . . . it was what the man did to me after. He took a part of me that I can never get back.”

I felt tired. Scooting toward the pillows, I lay back on the bed. Alex gave me some space but moved to lie near me.

“When I used the bathroom after it was over and the man was asleep I noticed a small window. I climbed out and ran. I didn’t know where I was but somehow, I found a woman on a bicycle and told her what happened. She called the police. Later, when the police raided the house—”

I stopped. Turning to my side as I curled up in a ball, the tears flowed and I didn’t know if I could ever get the words out. I miss her so much.

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