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Chapter One
Michael
Boring.
I sigh, barely paying attention to what’s on the television screen as I surf the channels. Days off from my job at the police department are always mind-numbingly boring. Sure, it’s not like I usually see a lot of action – maybe things would be more exciting if I lived in Chicago instead of McHenry – but at least I’m contributing to our community’s safety when I put on that uniform. What good am I parked in front of my TV?
I’m about to give up on finding something to watch when I land on the local news channel. The anchors have a grim look on their faces, and scrolling across the button third of the screen are, “ACTIVE HOSTAGE SITUATION AT HARVEY’S DINER.” I lean forward in my seat, immediately concerned. Harvey’s is my favorite place in Woodstock. I might know whoever’s trapped in there.
“Police on the scene are now telling us they’ve made contact with the assailant,” the female reporter says. “No word on whether or not the hostage was injured in the gunfire.”
Gunfire? Fuck, what else have I missed?
I get up and grab my abandoned phone from the kitchen counter. There are a few messages from my friends on the force there. The most recent update I have is that the hostage should be released in the next few minutes.
Relief floods through my body as I make my way back to my recliner. I joined the force to help innocent people, and I always feel guilty when something happens on my days off… even if it’s the next town over. As I’m checking the rest of the messages, the commercial break ends.
“Welcome back to The Star News. We’re about to show you live images of the hostage being released,” the man says.
The screen cuts to shaky footage from the ground. Red and blue lights flash against the innocent looking diner. A line of police stand with their guns drawn in anticipation of the release, and a female officer stands ready to take the victim to safety. Then, after a few tense seconds, the door to the diner opens and a girl is shoved out, falling to her knees from the force.
The officer runs forward, pulling the now-free hostage to her feet before hurrying toward the line of police. As they get closer to the camera, I can hear the reporter offscreen asking for an interview. The girl’s escort answers, but I don’t hear what she says – I’m too enchanted by the girl.
It’s obvious she’s been crying, her face is red and her eyes are puffy. Pieces of her strawberry blonde hair are stuck to her cheeks. Even with the dim lighting, I can tell there’s a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her button nose. She looks like she’s in her late teens, early twenties. Protectiveness flares in my chest. She’s been through the worst, and I can’t let something like that happen to her again.
I immediately send a message asking for the police report as soon as it’s written up, then I return my attention back to the anchors. Apparently, the girl’s going to give an interview.
Probably a stupid idea for the cops to let her do that, I think to myself. At least I’ll get to see more of her, though.
Almost an hour later, the newscast is interrupted with a “BREAKING NEWS” screen. They cut quickly to the scene in front of Harvey’s. The police presence has thinned, and the field reporter is standing next to the gorgeous woman. She introduces herself and the victim – Sabrina. She’s then given the opportunity to provide her version of events that unfolded earlier in the evening.
As soon as Sabrina opens her mouth, I’m spellbound. Her voice is sweet and lyrical, the words coming from her perfect lips are melodic. It’s almost like she’s singing a song. I could listen to her speak for hours. How could someone take this beautiful angel hostage? What right did this asshole think he had?
I suddenly find myself wanting to know all about her; what are her interests, her passions in life, her favorite movie? I want to know what she likes to do on a weekend but most of all, I want to protect her. But how?
Come on, Michael. You don’t even know this girl!
It's so unlike me to be thinking like this, about a complete stranger. What is up with that? Still, my mind deliberates over all the ways I can take care of her. She deserves someone that anticipates her every need, attends to them without her even asking. Someone who will do anything to protect her and keep her safe. Bad guys always seem to prey on the sweetest, most innocent of people.
That’s the last time this prick gets to lay eyes on Sabrina again.
My phone vibrates; it’s my friends from the force. Turns out the assailant, Lester Povich, attempted to rob Harvey’s Diner but things took an ugly turn after a member of staff called the cops. So, Sabrina was taken hostage, finding herself in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I turn my attention back to the girl on the screen.
Sabrina is mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
Chapter Two
Sabrina
Whenever I close my eyes to sleep, visions of that night dance behind my eyelids. The last time I woke up peacefully and well-rested was two months ago, the day I decided to review Harvey’s Diner for my blog. I curse myself for that choice every single time I check my recently-installed cameras before entering a room. Needless to say, the local business reviews have been postponed indefinitely.
Somehow, even after going through a dramatic, life-altering event, I’ve managed to keep going. Things won’t ever be the way they used to. Thankfully, I’m able to work from home – running a recipe blog doesn’t really require too many adventures into the outside world, especially since I can do most of my shopping via grocery delivery apps.
But when I do have to leave my apartment, I’m filled with dread. Panic attacks sometimes appear daily, just out of the blue. I’m lucky enough to have my Mom and best friend, Bianca, to face time me each day. Without them I’d be lost. After the incident, they were able to stay with me for a few days at a time, but they have their own lives and jobs and can’t watch me 24/7.
Eight weeks on and I’m still scared. Still checking the cameras and watching the news. The nights are the worst. I check the locks two, three, four times until I’m completely satisfied no one can get in.
