Chapter Thirteen

Nora's POV

Week 4

I wanted my mommy.

I felt different ways about her on different days. Some days I hated her. I hated her fiercely for sleeping with that monster. I hated her for giving birth to me, making a spawn of Hank Millar. I hated her for lying to me and my dad for so long. Neither me nor my dad deserved that. I especially hated her for not picking me up from this terrible, terrible place… Hank probably still had her under his thumb. She was probably still with him now. Maybe he was making her forget me… When I had those hateful thoughts, I would sob until exhaustion.

Some days I loved her to death. I missed when I was a toddler, and she'd take me to go to the park with Dad. I missed her cheering me on from the sides as I failed at whatever sport she put me in during grade school. I missed our date days, where we would go get manicures or go shopping. We would come home and show Dad whatever we had done that day. I missed when she made breakfast in the morning, before she had to work all the time. I continue wishing that she'd find me, wishing that I'd been nicer to her before I'd been kidnapped. I'd left her with such a harsh tone about Hank…what if I never got to finish that conversation again?

I missed Vee. I wanted to go shopping with her as she discussed the merits of name brand versus clearance. I wanted to hear about her latest efforts to turn in a bad assignment and get extra credit. I wanted to see her pull up in the Fiat, ready to ride down to the beach. I wanted to give her the largest hug ever, to thank her for being such a good friend while I was being so stupid this summer. I'd give anything to listen to her inane conversation while eating loads of doughnuts.

I really missed Patch. I wanted him to hold and kiss me. I wanted to beg his forgiveness for my shenanigans this past summer. I missed his smell. I missed his smile as he said something to tease me on purpose. I missed those flashing dark eyes when I'd done something attractive to him. I wanted him to come and kill these bastards and let me out of here. I'd imagined how it would go down in so many ways.

I even missed Scott.

One day, I'd finally had enough. It had been something stupid- I got off the bed and walked to the dresser and I hit my toe against the side. It didn't even hurt that bad, but I began hyperventilating and broke into hysterical tears. I was having an anxiety attack, and a hug and some love would have been a blessing. Instead, Dagger ran in and began cursing me out, threatening to take away two more days of food. I didn't know which was worse- starving or being stuck by myself. At that moment, food was more important, so I placed my head between my legs and forced myself to breathe. I then proceeded to ask him to bring me a book. He simply looked at me like I was crazy (maybe I was!) and left.

I couldn't believe the situation I was in.

All I wanted was someone to talk to. Some sort of personal connection. I'd talk to anyone at this moment. I began to cry, wishing that it was bath day so that I could talk to Margaret, despite how terrible she'd been to me. I wished that Dagger would bring me something to entertain myself with.

I wished Hank would let me go.

I began kicking my legs and letting out silent screams, having a silent temper tantrum. I did this off and on until the sun went down.

Around sundown, the door opened. For some stupid reason I felt this huge smile on my face, as if it would be someone ready to pick me up and leave.

It was Hank, and he was carrying a shoulder bag. I shrunk back into the corner of the room, silent. Just because I'd begun to get cabin fever didn't mean I forgotten what had happened the last time he visited. He looked upon me, simply observing. Then he sat down on the bed.

"Nora."

"Mr. Millar."

He smiled. "It saddens me to see your state. Is there anything that I can do?"

"You can let me go."

Hank laughed, smiling down at me. "That, my dear, is the one thing that I cannot do. However, according to Dagger, you've been quite restless." He reached into his bag. I flinched, thinking that he'd bring out some weapon. Instead, he was holding an iPad.

I could have started drooling.

"You've been behaving generally well, besides a few lapses in judgment. But as they were minor, I thought you deserved a treat." I slowly moved to his side, my curiosity for the outside world slightly overwhelming my fear of Hank. He began scrolling his finger over the screen. There were many pictures. Some were old pictures of me- my baby years, my middle school years. Pictures of my mother and me, at different events, or simply at home. I noticed that there were no pictures of my adoptive father, Harrison Grey.

"Your mother gave these to me. She wanted me to see how well you'd grown up." I wasn't listening to him. I just kept scrolling through, drinking in the images. I felt a deep pain when he turned off the pictures, and then I scrambled back to the corner.

"I can't let you speak to your mother. I can let you know that she is deeply concerned for you, Nora. If you are cooperative, I will have no problem in returning you unharmed to your mother at the end of your stay. I would hate for anything to have to happen to you, or your mother, if something went awry."

I should have known that he'd be here to try to keep me in check.

"But, off of that unpleasant point, is there anything else I can get you?" he asked me, as if I were staying in a five star hotel. I took advantage of his sudden generosity.

"I want books. And a notebook to write in. And a TV!"

"That's fine. Except for the TV." I was a little disgruntled at that, but I kept going. Hank seemed amused by my behavior. It was bizarre. In a perfect world, I'd have been asking him for birthday presents. Instead I was begging for ways to keep myself coherent.

"I want to be able to go outside whenever I want." Hank took some time to ponder my request.

"I don't think I can do that. However, if you are good, I can have my man allow you to go outside once a week for a couple hours."

"Once a day for two hours. Please. What little energy I have is pent up in this empty room, and it would help me…cause less trouble if I had some air and some space."

He pondered it over. "That's fair." As much as I hated him, I could have hugged Hank Millar for that concession. So I may have been overexcited at my next request.

"I want to call Patch."

Hank sneered at me.

"Why in the world would I let you do that?" he stood up and began pacing the small area between the bed and the door. "One, he could track the phone, and we can't have him doing that. Two, I think that this dalliance between the daughter of the Black Hand and a fallen angel has to cease."

"He swore to you that he wouldn't do anything, right? I just want to talk to him! Even to hear his voice. Please!" I began to beg, tears flowing down my face. Hank gave me this peculiar look, as if he was taking joy out of watching me beg. Normally that would have stopped me, but I was too close to my chance to let go. Suddenly, he shrugged, and pulled out his phone. He dialed a number, and put it on speaker phone. I was slightly angered that he wouldn't allow us privacy, but I didn't argue. The phone rang a couple times, and then there was a beep. Hank hung up, and proceeded to crush the phone and my heart. He gave me this twisted look, torn between glee and evil.

"Oh? He seems to be too busy to speak to you at the moment."

My head sank. I was heartbroken. I'd been so close…and nothing. Hank put his iPad into his bag, and walked to the door.

"Oh, and Nora?" he said, stopping. I couldn't even look at him. I couldn't look up from the ground. "I can tell you this, as there's absolutely nothing you can do about it." He sounded so much like Marcie.

"We'll be putting wards up around the cabin. It's something my men have been working on. It blocks any type of angelic interference, no matter how powerful they are, and no matter how they try to reach you. You may as well get used to the idea that your fallen angel will never be locating you. You, my dear, are alone." With those words, he walked out, locking the door behind him.

My body twisted in agony. Alone. Alone! All I could hear were his words. If they blocked angelic interference…Patch couldn't visit me anymore. He hadn't answered my call, and he could no longer see me.

I'd never see him again. I was all alone.

A wail of agony came from my throat, getting louder before turning into a quiet whimper.

It lasted until the sun came up.