SORRY ITS LATE I'M ETERNALLY GRATEFUL FOR ALL YOUR PATIENCE AND LOVELY SUPPORT. ENJOY.
Carlisle POV
Today search parties are being sent throughout the city. My family and I were overcome with gratitude at the number of volunteers that showed up. We would find her, we had too.
Esme-being the stubborn independent women she is-decided to join in the search. Although I had recommended as her doctor and husband that she took it easy so her concussion wouldn't have lasting effects. Still, I was glad to have her at my side.
News reporters had crowded our house as soon as the kidnaping had been released to the press. Rumours and articles spread like wild fire. They ranged from 'Doctor and family take in sweet orphan girl' to "Normal family takes in disturbed child; kidnapping may be a blessing in disguise.'
I decide not to share all the media's nonsense with my wife and kids, though it is surely only a matter of time before they find out.
From trekking through woods and deep bush to checking allies downtown; we search everywhere. Alice, Jasper, Emmett, and Edward came to help look with Grandma Lina who had come into the city to help out and was staying with us for a while until Rosalie was home.
After another hour of searching our kids were starting to slow down, it had been a rough night and they didn't have much energy left in them. Esme's mother kindly offered to take them home and look after them so that Esme and I could continue searching.
"Thank you." I say, grateful my voice remains steady when I speak.
"It's no problem dear. I'll do whatever I can to help bring Rosalie back home safe and sound." She responds; her eyes determined and full of endless positivity. Suddenly I realize where my wife had gotten her fierce personality from.
"I want to keep helping; I'm old enough." Edward protested when Esme and I told him to go home with his tired siblings. Our children were already pretty shaken up.
"Alice, Jasper, and Emmett really need their big brother right now. Can you look after them? It's a really important job." Esme asks, tenderly pushing a strand of his copper coloured hair out of his eyes.
"Okay." Edward replies seriously. "I'll look after them, I promise I won't let you down."
"We know you won't."
Once our children have all piled back into the parked SUV and it has safely driven off down the road I take my wife's hand in my own. With a sigh full of hope and pain we continue to search.
Rosalie POV
When I wake up it's night time. At first I think I'm surely dreaming. The bed I was in was definitely not my bed in Carlisle and Esme's house. My head felt weird, and I was having difficulty remembering things.
The last thing I could remember was colouring with Esme, the details after that were hard for me to recall. Had something happened to me? That would explain the thudding in my head that made me think my brain was going to explode out of my skull. Was that even possible? But if I was hurt, where was Carlisle? He wouldn't leave me alone; would he? Also I was pretty sure that hospital rooms are no where near this fancy. I could recognize at least ten different designer brand decorations in the room I was in alone. While most other kids mothers were teaching them how to tie their shoelaces my mother taught me about the brands that 'everyone who was anyone' had. Whatever that meant.
I consider crawling out of the bed but decide against it for two reasons: one- I'm too scared, and two- my head hurts so much I'm not sure I'll be able to stand up without falling. So I stay where I am; keeping very still. Hopefully I would be able to escape and find my family once I'd figured out more about where I was.
I sit like that for what feels like an eternity. Thump thump thump. Footsteps can be heard outside the door of the room. I pull the beds covers over my head and place my hand over my mouth; trying to breathe as quietly as possible. My attempts seem to work oppositely-as my breaths seemingly sound twice as loud in the silent room. The golden covers offer me little protection and I feel extremely vulnerable.
Crap. I can't think of any other word to describe the situation I'm in. I'm hiding under the covers of a bed in a random house and I can't remember a thing. So yeah, crap is the word I'm sticking with. I know Carlisle hates the word; he told me it's bad and I wasn't supposed to say it. My parents had never seemed to mind when I'd said it before. I pull the covers down enough so I can peer over the top of them as the door knob begins to turn.
The polished wooden door opens with a small creak. I feel bile rising in my throat when Royce walks in, his face is expressionless. Oh my god, please don't throw up; I think to myself. I swallow the bile rising in my throat. Memories come flooding through my mind at an overwhelming rate. I'm able to remember everything that had happened. For some reason I'm reminded of the first day I learned what a cruel person Royce was.
June 7, 2015
I'd spent the morning picking flowers for my mother, who'd gotten a cold from one of the maids. My father had been furious and had immediately fired her. The tension around all the workers that day was thick, many were nervous they would get fired too.
It began to rain but I was determined to carry on with the task. I picked the prettiest colours. I wasn't sure what my mom's favourite colour was; but pink and purple are 'girl' colours so I got her lots of those. I was so absorbed in what I was doing I didn't hear Royce walk up behind me to watch.
"Shouldn't you be inside?"
I jump at his voice, surprised. I relax when I see who it is "I don't mind the rain," I tell him.
"What are those for?" He asks, staring in distaste at the flowers clutched in my hand.
"They're for my mother, father says she's ill." I tell him, not looking up from my work. He's been around quite a bit recently. Him and my parents had seemingly become best friends over night.
"It's quite rude not to look at adults when they speak to you." Royce says darkly.
I stand up from the garden bed with a sigh and look up at him. "Sorry mister."
His nose wrinkles in disgust as he looks down at my dress. "You're covered in mud!"
"Oh." I say, looking down at the ruined fabric. "I must have gotten a little carried away."
He looks down at the flowers still clutched in my hand and smacks them away from me. The action is so unexpected I don't understand what's happening until he brings his polished shoe down on the plants and squishes them.
"Hey!" I screech. I'd spent hours picking the perfect flowers. My eyes fill with tears.
"Why are you crying?" Royce says, looking at me curiously.
"You ruined them! They were perfect; I was going to give them to my mom." I yell at him.
"Get yourself cleaned up. It's not lady like to play in the mud." Royce tells me.
He steps on the flowers once more as he walks away from me. It was the first, but definitely not the last time Royce left me feeling crushed.
"Clothes are in the closet. I want you up in ten minutes." Royce instructs as soon as he realizes I'm awake. He leaves the room immediately after, seeming disinterested.
It's the same voice from my nightmares; the same voice that has haunted me for months. His voice makes the situation even more real and I feel light headed. Oh god, oh god, oh god.
I really want Carlisle and Esme, they always help me calm down.
I force myself to get out of the bed. My head throbs harder in protest, causing me to gasp. Swallowing the growing lump in my throat I carefully open the closet doors and pull out the first article of clothing I see. I'm too terrified to do anything but follow the orders Royce had given me. All thoughts of escape had gone out the window the moment I saw him.
The dress I've put on is the type of clothing I always wore living with my parents. The familiar feeling fabric does nothing to calm my nerves. Although it had to be worth at least four times as much as the comfy clothes Carlisle and Esme let me wear I longed to keep on my t-shirt and leggings.
With a shaky breath I open the bedroom door. I wipe the back of my palms furiously across my eyes and let out a frustrated sigh when they come away stained with fresh tears. I was back to feeling powerless. My legs shake with fear as I walk down the hallway and I have to put one of my arms out twice to steady myself.
Everything in the house is in pristine condition. The rest of the home I see is filled with designer brands like the ones I'd seen in the bedroom I'd woken up in. Lots of the doors I walk past are closed and I don't bother to try opening them. The end of the long hallway leads to a large kitchen complete with a large granite countertop and shiny appliances. I hear voices coming from the next room and I slowly continue forwards.
Two men are seated at opposite ends of a long dining room table. I recognize Royce, who has his back to me, immediately. The other man is slightly older, probably around my parents age. He wears a neatly tailored suit and is glancing at his watch when I walk in the room.
My legs shake more when Royce turns to face me.
"What took you so long?" He asks, his voice sends further tremors through my body.
The second man looks up at me, and his eyes narrow. He turns to Royce.
"Tell me again; how long did her parents ask for her to stay here?" He asks.
"Just a few months. They're vacationing in France, we're dearest friends." Royce tells him. His cool gaze does not falter.
"Would you like a blanket?" The man asks me as I continue to shake.
"She's fine." Royce answers for me.
"Sit down. What do you usually like to eat for breakfast?" The man asks me.
Normally I'd waste no time in saying my favourite breakfast was Esme's blueberry pancakes; but this was not a normal day. I can feel more than see Royce staring at me critically from the corner of my eye.
Royce points a threatening finger at the chair directly beside him and I carefully sit in it. I force my shaking to cease to a less obvious amount and put on the most courteous smile I can muster up.
"I'm not picky sir, whatever you have is okay with me." I politely say. I steal a quick glance at Royce, hoping he will not get mad if I eat something.
"Is toast okay? I'll go get you some." The man stands up. I feel like calling him back and screaming 'no, don't leave me alone with him!' But I stay silent.
"Reggie doesn't have any maids. Against his morals or something." Royce leans forward and grips my forearm hard enough to bruise. "He agreed to let me lay low at his place. My companies been taking some heat recently y'know. As far as he knows I'm letting you stay with us here out of the kindness of my heart."
He pauses, staring into my eyes until I flinch and lower mine in submission.
"You will do as he says. You're nothing here, do you understand?" He squeezes even harder on my wrist and I yelp.
"I said; do you understand?" He growls at me.
I'm never going to get to see the Cullen's again.
"Yes." I say in a resigned tone. "I understand."
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