Underestimated (49 page)

the door. I almost felt bad for the terrified look on his

face. No. not really.

“If you need anything else, you call this number,”

the bald man said, handing me his card.

“Thank you,” I smiled, taking the card.

I hadn’t realized that I had stopped breathing until I

was once again alone. I sucked in every last bit of air from

that room.

Now to take care of Drew. I was running on pure

adrenalin. I could feel the blood dry up in my veins and

the adrenalin was the only thing keeping me alive.

If only I knew where Drew was, He could have

been anywhere. I was sure he was in the air somewhere. I

just wasn’t sure where. Was he an hour away, two, four,

six? I had no clue. Why the hell hadn’t I asked more

questions last night? Oh, yeah, because my brain was

overloaded and I couldn’t think straight. I still couldn’t

think straight. What was I going to do when he got there?

I sat in the same spot for an hour and forty minutes

with my thoughts a scrambled mess. I went from one

memory to another. There were so many of them. It’s the

weirdest thing in the world to not know who you are or

remember things that happened to you. It’s even weirder to

have them all come surging back like a lightning strike. I

finally got up, taking my pistol with me.

I walked toward the north corridor and knew

exactly why I had avoided that side of the mansion. I

wouldn’t even do my therapy in that room. I didn’t know

why at the time. I just knew that I couldn’t go in there.

I opened the steel door to the still empty gym and

looked straight across the room at my reflection in the

mirror. I didn’t know who I was looking at. It was like

looking into the eyes of a ghost without a soul. I was

empty.

I looked over to the padded bench, and the

memories once again flooded my awareness. I felt

everything Drew had done to me in that room. I felt the

shame, the humiliation, the hurt and the neglect when the

steel door would close, and I would be left alone in

silence for days.

I dropped to my knees and sobbed. I cried for the

little girl who lived in poverty. I cried for the girl whose

little brother was ripped from her arms. I cried for the girl

whose mother deserted her. I cried for the girl whose

father sold her to a monster. I cried for Starlight and

Lauren. I cried for the only man who had ever truly loved

me, and I cried for the girl that was having a hard time

believing that Drew was capable of what he had done.

“Morgan,” I heard Drew, quietly say from behind

me.

I didn’t move. I stayed on my knees and kept my

hands on my lap, covering the gun.

“Do you think it’s still Stockholm syndrome when

you fall in love with the Drew that you didn’t know?” I

asked.

“Morgan, please give me time to explain,” he

pleaded.

I saw him step toward me through the mirror. I

spun around and came to my feet. I pointed the gun right at

his head.

“Explain what, Drew? Explain how I remember

every last thing that you ever did to me? Explain how you

used me for your own personal toy or would you like to

explain why you used me for your own personal punching

bag?” The tears were falling. I knew they were, but I was

too shook up to control them. I couldn’t hold my husband

at gunpoint and think about that too.

“Morgan. Put the God damn gun down and talk to

me,” he yelled in the tone that I remember scaring the hell

out of me at one time. The thing was, it didn’t scare me

anymore. It pissed me off.

“Back up!” I yelled. I wasn’t intimidated by his

over aggressive demeanor anymore. I was Charlie’s

Angels, Cagney and Lacey, GI Jane, okay, so I watched a

lot of television. It was all that I had to do when I was a

prisoner in this house.

“Morgan, it doesn’t have to be this way. Haven’t I

let you come and go as you please?”

That pissed me off even more. “You let me? Fuck

you! I don’t need you to let me do shit.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. Please, put the gun

down. Where is Derik?”

I knew he had sent him to settle me down.

“Don’t underestimate me. I shot him.” Well, I did.

It just barely scraped his arm, but I did shoot him.

“Morgan, I am so sorry. Please let me tell you the

whole story. I love you.”

“Back up!” I yelled again, when he tried to walk

toward me. He took a step back, and I told him to keep

going until he was in the far side of the room. I walked

toward the door with the gun pointed right at his forehead.

I barely got the steel door locked when he crashed

into it. I jumped, but knew he wasn’t getting out of that

room until I let him out. I slid down the door, sinking to

the floor. I just knew that my heart was going to beat right

out of my chest and be lying on the floor in front of me at

any second. I thought I was having an adrenaline rush

before, but this was ridiculous.

I walked back to Drew’s office and logged onto

his computer. I remembered the first password with ease,

but when I clicked the icon for the cameras, I had to try

three different ones, but finally got it. I clicked on the gym

camera and just like magic. There he was. He had

removed his jacket and tie, and was pacing back and forth,

running his fingers through his too long hair. I told him a

week ago that he needed a haircut.

Okay, I could see and hear him. How did I make

him hear me? Was there a button somewhere? Where was

the microphone? I looked around the desk for something to

make him hear me. I couldn’t find anything. I knew there

was a way. He had talked to me when I was locked in

there. No, he didn’t talk to me. He made me preform for

him. I should make the bastard take all of his clothes off

and do the same to him. I saw the little microphone in the

corner of the screen and clicked it.

“Hello,” well, that sounded stupid. I watched him

look right into the camera.

“Morgan, open the door. You’re not thinking

straight.”

“Have a seat, Drew. You’re going to be there a

while.”

“I can’t fucking be here a while. I have work to

do.”

“No. No. You don’t. The only thing that you need

to worry about is starving to death. How many days do

you think it will take? I’ve heard that it can be anywhere

from three days to six weeks. Did you eat today, Drew?”

Wow, I was crazy.

“Morgan, what do you want from me?”

“I want answers. I want to know why you brought

me here. I’m not buying the whole I wanted a virgin to

train anymore. You didn’t just pick a poverty stricken

town and pick me. I want to know why?”

I watched Drew sit on the bench and run his hands

through his hair. He took a deep breath and looked right at

me.

Damnit, don’t look at me like that…

“Mr. Callaway sent me there to get you.”

“Why?” I had a hunch that he had something to do

with it. He was too concerned about me.

Drew took another deep breath. He didn’t want to

tell me.

“Tell me, Drew” I coaxed.

“I have known Randle since I was thirteen. His son

was going to marry my mom before he got cancer.”

“Yeah.”

“I would have inherited it all, millions of dollars.

When Michael was on his death bed, losing his battle after

six long years, he told Randle about you.”

“What about me?”

“Michael Callaway was your father.”

“What? How could that be? My father is Gary

Willow.”

“No, he isn’t Morgan. Remember when I came to

your school. We were sitting on the bleacher, and I picked

a piece of fuzz from your sweater?”

I did remember that. “Yes, so?”

“It wasn’t fuzz. It was a hair. You are no doubt a

Callaway.”

I needed time to process again. What the hell? I’m

not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.

“What do you buying me have to do with any of

that?”

“Randle Callaway had a stroke three days after he

buried his son. He was in bad shape. When I went to see

him in the hospital and give him the DNA results he cried.

He knew from the many pictures that I had taken how you

lived. He felt horrible and changed his will the next day,

leaving you every last penny. I was pissed. I was to step

into that role, not some stupid hillbilly from West

Virginia.”

“I’m not a stupid hillbilly.”

Drew snorted and looked up to me again. “No.

You’re not, Morgan. You’re a very strong independent,

beautiful woman.”

“Stop. Finish telling me how I ended up gracing

your presence.” I didn’t want to hear compliments from

Drew Kelley at the time.

“Callaway gave me an ultimatum. He wanted me to

continue to run his companies, and I would always have

his money, but I had to marry you, and promise to take

care of you.”

“You didn’t take care of me, Drew,” I sadly spoke.

I didn’t even mean to say it. It just came out.

“I know that, Morgan, and if I could go back and

change it, I would. I didn’t want you. I didn’t want you to

be my wife, and you were ruining everything. I was in

love with a girl named Skyler. I wanted to share all of this

with her, not you.”

“You punished me for something I didn’t know

about?”

“I deserve to starve to death in here, uh?”

“Yeah, you do. I was here for almost six years

before I ran away. Why didn’t I ever know that Randle

Callaway was my grandfather?”

“He didn’t want you to know. He was ashamed of

his son for leaving you there when he knew how you lived.

You were his only grandchild. It wasn’t supposed to be

for that long. He was in awful shape. We didn’t expect for

him to be around very long. I figured you would be here

for six months at the most.”

“What were you going to do with me if he died?”

Drew looked down at the floor and buried his face

in his hands.

“Were you going to kill me, Drew?”

“You were going to have an accident. That was the

only way I would get what was rightfully mine.”

I sunk in the chair. Wow, if Randle Callaway

would have died. I would be dead right now.

“Morgan, I don’t know how to make this right. I

don’t care about one rotten penny of that money. I care

about you, and that’s it. I hadn’t planned on falling in love

with you, but you changed, and I don’t mean because you

couldn’t remember your name. You are stronger, beautiful,

and so much fun to be around. I wished to God that I

would have given you the chance to show me that in the

beginning. I would walk away from all of it right now if

you would forgive me.”

“Drew, do you have any idea what you put me

through? You hit me. You used me for a sex slave. You

locked me in that room for days, and then, and then…you

made me love you.”

Drew dropped his head in shame.

“I’m sorry, Morgan.”

“Where is my mom?”

“Randle paid her to go away.”

“My mom sold me too?” I said it more as a

statement than a question. It was a fact.

“You’ve been through hell.”

“I’m still going through hell. What about my little

brother. He’s here in Vegas somewhere.”

“How do you know that?” Drew looked up with a

wondering look.

“Dawson found him for me.”

“Who’s Dawson?”

“Where is my brother?” I asked. I was asking the

questions, not him. He didn’t have that right.

“He was adopted by a client and a good friend of

Randle’s. He wasn’t about to leave him in the system,

knowing how he would turn out. He’s in a good home with

parents who love him very much. He lives in the suburbs

on a cul-de-sac. He’s doing very well.”

“Mr. Callaway thinks that we are happily married,

doesn’t he?”

“Yes. That is why I got so mad when he insisted

that you talk to him without me. I didn’t want you to say

anything to blow my cover, and I
have
been happily

married these last few months.”

“Derik was in on all of this too, wasn’t he?”

“Yes. He knew.”

“Did he know that you raped me?”

“Don’t say it like that, Morgan.”

“How would you like for me to phrase it? Did you