Free A Bedtime Story by L.C. Moon Page B

middle of the night. Had packed my bags and
     everything. He snuck me out. I was still half asleep. He had gone out and bought a
     car. This old beat-up Tercel, you should’ve seen it…”
    She broke into laughter, tears rolling down her cheeks. “It made
     this horrible sound every time you started it…” She wiped her tears away
     dismissively with the back of her hand as she chuckled some more. “And that was it,
     I never saw my father again after that.” Her chuckle died down, her eyes dried up,
     her emotions settling, slowly returning to the present.
    He had lit another cigarette and, for the first time, offered her a
     kind, sincere smile. He put out his cigarette and went over to the bar again without
     saying anything. He came back holding a glass of whiskey in each hand. He put one
     down in front of her before reclaiming his seat. He raised his own glass to her, a
     shadow of compassion softening his stare. “Cheers.”
    “Cheers.”
    In that moment, she almost forgot he was her captor. She had shared
     things with him she never had with anyone else, not even with her boyfriends. But
     then again, they had never locked her in a cage and forced her to open up about it.
     They hadn’t even suspected what lay buried deep underneath. She had made it a point
     to play normal girl, for once not to be the victim, to actplayful and carefree, to be that girl, and they all fell for it, even Eric.
     He never called her out once. Not when her stories were off or her responses
     suspiciously evasive, especially when it came to her family, or fear of closed
     spaces. He didn’t want to scratch the surface; even he didn’t want to expose the
     ugliness underneath. He loved Playful Laura .
    Some part of her resented him for it, but with her pride came the
     burden of silence. No one besides Peter ever knew her, ever fully knew her, until
     now. She didn’t feel vulnerable and exposed as she would have expected. She just
     felt relieved, like a huge weight was lifted off her shoulders. She was almost
     thankful for the coerced confession.
    She looked at her unlikely confident and considered this fragile
     bubble of intimacy they had just created. Maybe because of it, she found the courage
     to voice the question that had been tormenting her. She cleared her throat, her
     fingers tracing the rim of the glass. She hesitated a few seconds.
    “Can I ask you something?”
    He nodded, his expression somber.
    “Did they find Peter?” She rushed the words in a breath, her eyes
     fixing a spot on the floor.
    He remained quiet for a while before answering her. “No.”
    She let out the breath she’d been holding in. She couldn’t help
     smiling at him, half expecting him to smile back, sharing in her joy. He didn’t.
    “They did trace him back to Boston.”
    She mouthed Oh . Her relief was short-lived.
    He leaned forward in his seat as if to tell her a secret, and she
     unconsciously mirrored his movement. In a conspiring tone, he added, “Want to know
     what I think, Laura? I don’t think he’s in Boston. I think he’s already far, far
     away…” He leaned back in his seat, spreading his arms over the couch, a dark twinkle
     in his eyes. “But don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
    Instant dread invaded her. She remained as still as
     a deer in headlights, powerlessly waiting for the blow to strike. It didn’t. He
     leisurely took another sip from his drink and smiled knowingly at her panicked,
     questioning stare.
    She blinked a few times, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, unsure
     of what to respond. “I didn’t lie to you.”
    “I know.”
    She breathed a little easier. How she regretted ever bringing it
     up. “Are you going to kill me?” she blurted out, surprised at her own bluntness.
    He stared her right in the eye, his voice betraying no emotion.
     “Only if you make me… But don’t worry, I won’t let you.”
    Her eyes watered, with sheer terror, with the relief and conviction
     that