Page 84 of Pose for Me
“How could he be gone? I’ve only been in the hospital for a few hours.”
He shakes his head. “You’ve been here for almost twenty-four hours. With what Ryell does,” he gives me a meaningful look, “he always had contingencies in place in case he had toleave suddenly.” Jacob sighs. “I’m sorry, Lane. But don’t look for him. You’ll only waste your time. When Ryell wants to disappear, he will. He’s done it before.”
Tears spill down my cheeks as I look up at Jacob. “What am I supposed to do?” I ask in a thick voice.
“Try to move on with your life. It won’t be easy to forget him, but after a while, you’ll learn to live without him. Just promise me something.”
I dip my chin once, not able to speak past the lump in my throat.
“When you get better, and youwillget better, don’t be bitter and tell authorities who Ryell is. He tried the best he could with you. I know my brother, and he’s never felt the way he felt about you with anyone else. It may not seem like it, but he was trying to do right by you. One thing he told me is he always wanted to take care of his boy. Remember that.”
Folding in my lips to prevent the sobs from breaking free, I nod vigorously, my heart breaking all over again.
I know Ryell wanted to take care of me. After he became my Daddy, he was nothing but good to me. This was all new for him, so he was misguided in his methods, but he did the best he could.
Fuck me.
Jacob lays a hand on my shoulder in a comforting way. “If it means anything, I hoped that you would be my brother-in-law. I’ve always wanted someone to come along and make my brother happy. He may not be a good person to society’s eyes, but he deserves happiness. I hope you get better and you’re able to move on.” With that, he leaves me alone with my thoughts and my pain.
Thirty
Lane
“You sure you’regonna be okay?” Brock asks, as we ride the elevator up to my apartment. Luckily, I had all my bills on autopay, so my rent, electricity, and water have been paid since I’ve been missing.
Brock had a spare key to my apartment and came over to check on the place and make sure everything was in order. He aired it out before I was discharged so my apartment wouldn’t smell stale.
I step off the elevator and make my way down to my door, feeling a sense of unease that I’m back here alone. This isn’t my home anymore. My home is where Ryell is. And until I’m back with him, I’ll be fucking drifting.
Shoving the key into the lock, I twist it and step inside, not knowing what to expect. When I look around what used to be my home, I feel…empty. This place is small, nothing like the sprawling expanse of Ryell’s house. The bright colors it’s decorated in clash into my senses, nothing like the muted and monochromatic set up of Ryell’s. Everything is the same as I left it, butI’mnot. I’m a different person, and nothing makes it more apparent than how I feel like a stranger in my own kitchen.
I drop my keys on the counter and simply stand there. Nothing is out of place, everything where I had it the last time I was here. Even my plants are still alive, Brock having been meticulous about watering them in my absence, sure I’d return.
I almost jump out of my skin when Brock’s warm palm lands on my shoulder. For a moment, I forgot he was still here. “Do you want me to stay?” he asks.
I peek into my bedroom and have to fight back a smile when I remember how Ryell came into my space and pulled the corner out from my bedsheets. Such a small thing, but even then, he knew that would get to me.
“No, I’m good.” I pull in a deep, steadying breath. “It’s just…difficult being back, you know? After I spent weeks locked away with no contact with anyone, it’s hard being able to move freely.”
When I was interviewed by SSA Fisher, I pulled some of the truth from my captivity. I told them I was cuffed by the ankle and left alone in a room for months. When they asked why I was abducted, I said that it had to do with a case I solved a few years back, a serial killer that had a fan base, and one of their crazed fans wanted to teach me a lesson.
Since Ryell dropped me off so far from his home, they were scouring the Hartvale area for suspects, which keeps the heat off my Daddy. They also stopped searching for the man I left the bar with, since I told them we went our separate ways after I left that night and I was snatched before I got to my car.
I was as thorough as I could be about my time in captivity, so I think they believed me.
“Before you return to work,” Fisher said, turning off his recorder and closing his notepad, “you’ll need to have at least a month of therapy appointments with our FBI-based psychiatrists. When they clear you, you can return to the field. If you’re up for it.”
I didn’t give him a concrete answer, but I know in my heart that I don’t want to continue with field work. I’m not sure what I want to do or when I’ll hand in my resignation, but it won’t be long. I’m just…tired. I miss my Daddy. My melancholy only gotten worse over the last week and a half. All I can think about is how Ryell treated me. He was soft; he was good to me; he was the best Daddy I could ask for.
Brock nods, his eyes reflecting profound sadness. “I don’t understand, but I get it. I’m sorry you had to go through that. If you need me, I’m only a phone call away.”
He lingers for a few minutes while I make my way around my apartment, then after checking on me one last time, takes his leave.
Alone now, I go to my room, suddenly exhausted. My thoughts and feelings run wild, making me too tired to function half the time. All I want to do is sit in the dark and sleep.
I know I’m in a slump from being released from captivity and being around people and not with Ryell. I don’t want to pull myself out of it. I want to wallow in it, because that lets me know I loved him and my feelings were real.
Toeing off my shoes, I lie in bed. I grab one of my pillows to pull it to my chest when I hear paper crinkling.
