Page 143 of Magic or Madness

“Mr. A will suffice, for now,” he responds, and I smile, closing my eyes.

“Thank you, Mr. A, I appreciate it. Makes this feel a little less like business, like I’m being used all over again,” I choke out, hoping my acting skills are up to par.

His face softens, and I strike another nerve. My working theory, without knowing a thing about this man, is that he’s a father, and hates seeing me this way.

I intend to play on that weakness, keeping his mind elsewhere while the negotiation rolls on.

If I’m lucky, he’ll slip, leaving a breadcrumb or two for Lex to find.

“I’m sorry this has brought up unfortunate memories for you, but all will be right soon,” Mr. A tells me, and I can’t stop the hope swelling through my body.

“You’re going to let me go?” I conjure up the fakest tears possible, letting them stream down my face in an attempt to seem vulnerable.

“Of course, Fallon, that was always the plan. We’ll be leaving soon, and your boyfriend has requested a phone call before the exchange. It’s been lovely getting to know you, but I hope this is the last time we meet,” he says, abruptly standing and ending our conversation.

Something I didn’t notice before, is how well-dressed this man is. Now, I watch as he walks away, taking in the details I can see.

His suit is cream-colored and tailored to fit his body perfectly. It screams expensive and I realize that whoever Mr. A is, he’s not in this for the money.

This is about control, possibly even revenge, and I keep that detail to myself, storing it for when I get back to the guys along with the other information I’ve gathered thus far.

I close my eyes now that I’m alone, and the thoughts of Ozzy come crashing back to the surface, immobilizing me as I think of the man whom I love so fucking much, it consumes my every thought.

He must be so broken without me, on a rampage until I’m home safely, and my mind travels to a place where I can conjure up scenes in my head, clearly showing how the lack of food and water, combined with the drugs, is affecting me.

I can picture him tearing the dealership apart, the place I turned into a home destroyed as he works his way through his anger. I can see him shutting everyone else out, locking himself away until he figures out the best way to bring me home safely. My heart hurts and constricts in my chest thinking of him so broken, the faces of Oliver, Cami, Pepper, and Lex flashing in my mind, reminding me that there are more people that I need to fight for.

I reach for the chain around my neck, but when I search for the medallion, it’s not there.

My Athena necklace is gone, and that does it, sending me into a series of body-wracking sobs that echo throughout this empty warehouse.

I don’t want to let myself go in front of these people, trying to show how strong I am, but the loss of my necklace is devastating, striking me at the places it hurts the most and bringing me straight to my knees, in a sense.

I cry until I run out of tears, the pain of being taken so much worse than when I first woke up, before I realized who’d be hurt without me.

“It’s time to move,” I hear one of the men say, and my restraints are loosened, but my body is so weak that I let them handle me without a single ounce of fight.

I’m nothing but a limp, undernourished body to them, but what they don’t realize is that I’m ready to fight when the timecomes. I feel depleted, like I’m running on fumes, but I have to save every ounce of strength for the meet, and the call with Ozzy.

He needs to feel in control and know that I’m okay before he makes a move, and all I want is to be back home in his arms.

This is a chess match, and I’m caught in the middle, trying to attempt to guess the move each man is going to make, and it’s beginning to drive me insane.

Instead of being steps ahead, I turn my brain off, allowing myself to be carried without resistance to the same car I was brought here in.

It smells the exact same, and even though I was heavily drugged, the scent of freshly detailed upholstery hits me like a brick wall, and I’m brought back to a place of clawing, fighting, and begging to be saved.

I refused to roll over and die like I’d assumed, and suddenly, a bump on my forehead throbs, reminding me of how hard I fought at home, just before the drugs kicked in.

I remember doing everything I could to fight these men off, and in the process, they slammed my head against the door frame.

I settle in the trunk, practicing my centered breathing until the car stops, and I hear chatter from the front seat. The ride had to be twenty, maybe thirty minutes, and now that we’re parked I realize that there’s no other sounds.

There’s no cars around, or people, and of course, the meeting point is somewhere rural.

Through the seats, I can make out a few muffled words, and I think Ozzy and Oliver are in place, attempting to make contact for our phone call.

Something else is going on, but I can’t quite make out what they’re saying. Another plan is in place, possibly more sinister than Ozzy knows, but how can I warn them?

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