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ELLIOT
Russo asked if I could make breakfast, which I gratefully accepted. Doing something with my hands was better than sitting around thinking about Caspian and how desperately I wanted to return to him. I found a waffle maker that had to have been made in the 1970s, given the avocado-green enamel surface, but that seemed to be in perfectly good shape. Along with waffles, I whipped up some eggs for a fluffy scramble and cut up an apple for a little fiber and vitamins. If we were to get out of here, Heather and I had to remain strong and healthy.
Russo talked the entire time we ate, sharing memories of his time as a kid here at the cabin. “It was the only time in my life I felt what it was like to be part of a real family. My aunt and uncle had two daughters—my cousins—and I loved them. They were adorable.”
“This was your dad’s brother?” I asked. Did we have other relatives?
Russo shook his head. “No, no. The old man had no living relatives. This was my mother’s sister. She was a good Christian woman who took pity on me. My mother was still around then, but not exactly mother of the year. She’d disappear for days at atime on one binge or another. So the old man, who was on the constant hunt to figure out how to get rid of me, shipped me off to my aunt for a few weeks every summer. But once my mom died, the invites stopped coming. They probably didn’t want to be involved with a criminal’s son. But I loved it here—only place on earth I ever felt happy. Which is why I wanted to bring you two here.” He smiled, glancing toward the window. “The memories of those days have kept me company on many a lonely night.”
“Is your aunt still alive?” I asked. “What about the cousins?” Was he planning to kidnap them too?
“Yeah, they’re all still around. I emailed Aunt Mary a few years back but she never replied. She doesn’t want anything to do with me. I haven’t seen her or the rest of them since I was twelve years old. Once Mom died, they ceased all contact.”
What would have happened if she’d offered to take him in as Aunt Biddie had me? Would he be doing what he was doing to us? If I were to venture a guess, I would say no. A kind offer from her would have changed the entire trajectory of his life. Because she had abandoned him, like every other adult in his life, he sat here eating waffles made by a half sister who never knew he’d existed. Who knows what kind of character he would have had should he have ever gotten just one break. But for Mike Russo, the hits kept coming. A drug addict mother. Criminal father. No one who cared enough to take him in and love him.
This is what happened to a person deprived of human affection and unconditional love.
Regardless of the pity I felt for him, I couldn’t get past what he’d done to Caspian or to Heather and me. Whatever path led him here, the result was not good. He was sick and delusional. Whatever I had to do to get us out of here, I would do. Even if it meant taking him down. Feeling sympathy or even empathy forMike Russo was not going to do any of us any good. If we were to save ourselves, we had to get rid of him, one way or the other.
“How’d you remember how to get here?” I asked. Maybe he would let some details slip if I pretended casual interest.
“I remember everything from those days. They float like photographs in my mind.”
“Like what?” I asked, casually. “What was it like here when you were a kid?”
He cut his waffle into many small pieces, doused them with maple syrup, and then stirred the chunks around his plate. “It was the best back then. You know, before the modern world moved into these parts. It was like going back in time. There was this bait and tackle shop a few miles up the road where we’d go get fishing supplies and treats. My aunt let us walk down there every day and pick out whatever soda and junk food we wanted. She said vacation was a time to indulge, not worry too much about how much sugar we ate. Did you ever go into one of those types of stores? They always smell the same.”
“Like wet cement,” Heather mumbled, pushing her plate away. She’d hardly eaten anything. The baby needed nourishment.
“Mixed with old wood and the smell of fish bait,” I said.
“That’s exactly right.” Russo placed both beefy hands on the tabletop and looked at me and then Heather, love shining from his eyes. “That’s what I always smell too. We all have so much in common. Sharing the old DNA and all that.”
For a moment, none of us said anything. Was it possible we were bonding with our kidnapper? No, no. We were not bonding. He was our brother but also a criminal. Anyway, every one of those mom-and-pop type shops smelled the same. It wasn’t because we all had so much in common. Still. The two people at this table were the only known flesh and blood I had left. We were made from the same man.
However, one of us had a gun and had imprisoned his sisters. He was a violent criminal who had shot Caspian and drugged Heather and me. He was not a long-lost brother, but a nightmare come to life.
How strange to think they’d been living in the world without me knowing. All this time, they’d been out there while I remained oblivious to their existence. What did that mean? If anything? Or was it simply what it looked like on paper? An unscrupulous criminal impregnated three different women, only to abandon them one way or another.
“Do you remember any good times with your mom?” I asked, genuinely curious.
He blanched at the question, his eyes dulling to the color of a dry rock on a riverbank. “Not many.” He pushed to his feet. “Listen, I’m going to leave you and go into town to pick out some outfits for you and few supplies. You have two choices. I can either lock you in your room with a few books or you can stay out here and watch a movie. I’ll have to keep you tied up, unfortunately.”
“Movie,” I said quickly. Being out here was better than locked in the tiny bedroom. “But maybe leave us some books too?”
“You got it.” He patted his stomach. “That was some good grub. What movie do you want?” He held up his hand. “No, don’t tell me. I’ll choose one I know you’ll like. You two wash up those dishes for your big brother while I pick a movie.” Russo headed toward the cabinet, humming to himself.
Heather and I finished up the dishes quickly, stacking everything neatly in the drying rack and giving the counters and table a good scrubbing. Despite the rugged nature of the cabin, with its coffin-like paneling, the place was clean and dry, if a bit cold. There were supplies in the cupboards of dried goods that I had a feeling had been here before Russo took over the cabin forhis own benefit. That told me the aunt and her family must still come here for vacations.
If they did, wouldn’t they discover us at some point? Had Russo thought of that? Should I ask him or keep that thought to myself? What if he took us somewhere worse? He could at any time. Especially if he thought they might return. However, my curiosity got the better of me. I had to ask. “Does your aunt still use the cabin? What if they show up?”
“I’ve thought about that,” Russo said. “And I did a little digging. They haven’t been here since last August. I figure we have at least until then to find a new place where we can all be happy. We’ll have to have a family meeting to discuss where we want to move next. Under one stipulation, of course. It has to be remote. No internet access. Otherwise, we might be tempted to use it.” His voice went cold. “And I cannot have that. I don’t want you two to take any of what I say as a threat, but I do need to inform you that should you choose to try to break out, there will be consequences.” He gestured toward the couch. “Take a seat. I’ve picked a movie for you my little cousins used to love. Nemo.”
Nemo? Did he think of us as children? Were we a replacement for the cousins he’d once loved?
The answers seemed fairly obvious. This man needed help. Otherwise we were going to be stuck in a horror movie to the tune ofWhat Ever Happened to Baby Jane?
My thoughts drifted to Caspian. I’d tried so hard to remain cold. How many times had I told myself he was my boss and off-limits? Yet at the end, our attraction and chemistry had outweighted reason and safety. I’d fallen in love with him without realizing what was happening. And now I might not ever see him again. If only I hadn’t wasted the better part of a year under the false impression that being alone was the preferable way to be. Should I have seen the signs earlier that he cared about me? Would I have seen them if I’d not been damagedby my mother’s death? If I ever got out of here and he’d been spared, I would give him everything. My whole heart and soul. Even if he rejected me, I would tell him how I felt. I’d be brave and vulnerable and offer him my love. Because, sitting here with my wrists tied, it was more obvious than ever that life was fleeting. Moments of connection with the people we love were all that really added up to anything in the end.
