Chapter 14

Its amazing how one small moment can change your entire life, your perspective, your beliefs, relationships you have with others, how you view yourself, how you live. It can. I’ve seen it happen. I’ve been there. And I’m still working on getting back. It’s been a long process and honestly I can’t wait to get the hell out of here. Africa is beautiful, the people are wonderful, but I will be so damn glad when I can get on that plane and never, ever step foot here again. In fact, I could be home now. I could be back in LA, trying to pretend to be surprised by the welcome home party they’re planning, ignoring Cameron as best as possible, and acting like the fact that I was kidnapped hasn’t totally warped everything about me.

I’m actually rather surprised how well I’ve been handling all this. I even did a fucking press conference yesterday. Of course, I didn’t really answer questions. I got up there, made a statement while flashes of lights continuously went off and then stepped down. I didn’t even write the statement, one of Johnny’s people did and I oked it, but I guess it said what I wanted to say. Trace was there with me. He’s been doing well.

Actually, I think this whole kidnapping thing is really working out for him. Elisha and him plan to spend the first available couple of months back in reality secluded somewhere in Hawaii. They need to make wedding plans. Wedding plans...and here I’ve cut off my girlfriend from everything. I guess she’s not my girlfriend anymore. I just don’t want her fake sympathy and her fake personality around me.

I just want my mom and my family and Trace and…and…

I sigh and look around me. I was released from a hospital a week before, but not this place. This place is different, scarier, nice and clean, but quieter, and more eerie. Still having to wear a back brace and still having to come back to my hospital every day for physical therapy sucks. I can’t wait until that is over with. Come to find out I had barely been hanging on those last few days in the basement. Besides the fact that Trace and I were both very malnourished, both of us had cuts that were soon to become lethally infected. We were down in that hell for thirteen days. Trace had sustained some damage to the eye that was punched. But it seems to be back to normal now. I had problems though, major ones, and if we hadn’t been rescued when we were there’s a big chance I wouldn’t be here.

I had a concussion and three broken ribs. One rib was continually brushing against my lung when it would expand as I’d breathe.

My lung actually collapsed when we got to the hospital. Of course I don’t remember any of that. I was unconscious and woke up a couple days later in an unfamiliar, pristinely clean hospital room.

I woke up alone, apparently Momma had been by my side every moment, but this one moment she had gotten up to use the restroom. I didn’t know where I was. I looked out and focused as best as I could, trying to clear away the blurriness. There was a window in this room and I saw men, men with big guns and camouflage. I freaked. I tried to get up but I couldn’t move. I had things sticking in me, tubes, my vision blurred again. I was terrified and in pain and the first thing that crossed my mind came out of my mouth, and I yelled her name.

Women in white rushed to me.

They wouldn’t tell me about her at first. My momma rushed in and I broke. I started to cry and cry and cry. I was shaking. A nurse told me to calm down and I watched as she pushed a syringe into the end of one of the tubes, I started to feel tired. I begged my mom to tell me where they had put her, if she was ok. No one would tell me. They’d pat me on the shoulder and gently push me down. “Rest Justin, just calm down. You’re gonna hurt yourself,” they said. My eyes started to close and I thought maybe this was his hospital, maybe I hadn’t been rescued, maybe momma had been taken, too.

I thought Sarah was dead.

I thought he had killed her.

But she was alive and uncle was the one that was dead.

Patrick Beckett was his name, and a son of a bitch he was. He was an evil man I have no doubt about that, but he was messed up, addicted to drugs and with psychotic tendencies. Apparently, he had been a wannabe crime lord in the states in the 80s, gotten in some trouble, almost got caught and decided he’d take his revenge and he did.

It blew my mind when Lieutenant Davidson came to my room a few weeks ago to talk to me about her. I had told him my side of the story and asked him if he would let me know about Sarah, if he would tell me all he could when he found out. My doctor advised him not to, telling him that my mental stability was already fragile and that I needed to worry about myself and not some Jane Doe.

But Sarah is far, far from a Jane Doe.

Sarah Young had been a very intelligent, five year old girl living in northern Virginia with her parents. She was an only child, her young brother had died when he was two of leukemia. That was a year before, a year before he took her. Her mother had taken her to a park, a busy, crowded park near the Potomac. Her mother had set down at a table and talked with some of the other mothers while Sarah attempted to swing.

And she had swung right in a mystery. Patrick and some of his followers had been parked in a van by the park dressed as yard maintenance workers. They had snatched her up easily, put her in the back of the van and driven off. Sarah’s dad was the US agent assigned to Patrick’s case, determined to find him and put him away. He was close, so close.

But Patrick threw him a curve, made his daughter disappear and he disappeared as well. He fled over seas, to South Africa, and with all the governmental and racial problems plaguing the country he was able to slip under the radar and build up his empire. Patrick was able to disguise himself quickly as a business man, whose business just happened to be hard drugs and illegal weapons. He claimed Sarah as his young niece and told everyone her parents had happened to die tragically. But Sarah’s parents did not die. Instead, they searched and searched and it ended up tearing her parents apart. They divorced, her mother moved on, remarried, had more children.

Her father didn’t end up so lucky, and after creating a dangerous addiction to alcohol, he finally crashed his car into the tree of his front yard, killing himself instantly.

And I thought I had it bad.

Most of Sarah’s injuries were, well I guess still are, mental and deep. After sixteen years of brainwashing I wonder if what I’ve decided to take on is going to be too much. Mom doesn’t agree with it, Trace thinks I really am crazy and my doctor doesn’t really know what to say. The Lieutenant thinks if I can provide for her it might not be so bad. Sarah can’t function on her own. Her mental ability is fucked up. She’s smart, brilliant, they say her IQ is high. But she’s not a five year old, she’s twenty one and she doesn’t know…anything. And I’m not about to let them put her in some facility where they drug her up and put her down.

I haven’t seen her since we were down in the basement, in our prison.

It’s not a question of whether I can or not, or of whether I want to. But, becoming her guardian, that’s something I’m not sure I should be doing. Sure her mother was contacted, stunned, and didn’t know what to do. I talked to her even, and told her way, way to quickly that I’d take care of her, that I had the money, I had the means and that if she ever wanted to see her daughter she could. But when I got off the phone with her, for some reason I got this feeling. I don’t think she wanted to see her daughter.

I was angry, I still am. But I guess I understand. I guess she’s scared. Maybe she thought that part of her life had died and now its back to haunt her. But dammit, Sarah is no fucking ghost. She’s alive and needs people. She needs her mother, I’m sure.

But I don’t care about her mother. I care about Sarah and I’m sure, after being alone for a month and a half with strange people asking her questions, bothering her, scaring her, with no familiar face around, she’s not doing good. I hope, I hope when I see her in a few minutes she’s ok. I hope she knows who I am.

“You alright?”

I look over at Mike and try to scratch my back under my brace. He hasn’t left my side since I asked momma if any security was down here, my security. The only time he leaves me alone is to shower or pee, and even then I make sure he’s in the next room and I leave the door cracked so I can talk to him. I make him sleep in my room. I know that’s weird but…but I just can’t take any chances, ya know? We’ve already made changes for the house in LA. We’re building the wall around the house higher, putting in a better camera system, a device that detects body heat, movement and sounds. I also had Trace call up Marty and have him take my pups to class. I babied them, made my Boxers sweet and loving, but when I come home they’re gonna know what to do with strangers and how to attack by word command.

We’re staying at this nice ranch-styled resort house here in South Africa, all of us, momma, me, security, Trace and Elisha, Johnny’s here, everyone, Cameron was here but…but she left.

I shake my head and tap my hand against my knee that’s bobbing up and down. I can’t think about that right now. “Yeah, why?”

“You’re jittery.” Mike eyes me carefully. He’s been very observant of me lately, I know he’s just worried but he’s here to protect me, to be observant of other things. If he’s only concentrating on me he won’t be able to see if someone comes up and tries to take us.

Stop it Justin. No is going to take us.

“Mr. Timberlake?”

I jump and clutch Mike’s arm. I won’t have them take me again! I’m not going for tests, or for medicine or for ransom or to the basement again. I won’t. “Calm down…”

I breathe deep when he says that to me. Ok, so, so I still have my moments. I mean, it’s only been a month or whatever. They can’t expect me to just be happy and perfect and not scared ever again. I’m still scared. I’m…I’m fucking paranoid. I just, I can’t wait to get back home, back where I know no one will kidnap me, or, or if they do maybe the paparazzi will be there and catch the guy on camera or they’ll stop him. And, and I have a security gate around my house so no one can get me. And they’re doing all that work with my dogs and the alarm systems and maybe see if Mike wants to live in the guest house.

So no one can get us. No one will touch us. And it’s going to be an us.

“Y-yes ma’am?” The nurse eyes me cautiously and then looks at Mike for a moment. She then stares back at me.

“She can see you now.” I stand up with Mike and the nurse looks at him before leading us down the hall, “You’ll have to wait outside, sir.”

I nod at Mike, telling him I’m ok with it. At this point it’s not the fear that someone might capture me, but that she might not be ok. It’s been too long since I’ve seen her and I pray and hope she still remembers me. If she doesn’t, well I’m going to have a problem. The nurse opens the door and I see her.

I almost break down. It’s been way, way too long. I know it’s crazy, I know I should want to be as far from her as possible after how I met her, who she was, how insane everything has been. But I’ve missed her and I’m glad I’m here now.

She looks pale still, but somehow has a bit more color to her face. Her body is limp and small in the hospital bed, dwarfed under blankets. Her hair is pulled back from her face, something I’ve never seen. She’s beautiful and pitiful and terrible to look at. But I’m so relieved she’s ok and I’m so happy she’s alive and going to come home with me.

“If you need help there is a call button beside her bed. She’s still in restraints because she was being pretty violent last night.”

I stare at the nurse as she nods towards the room as if she’s wondering if I’m going to actually go in. I can’t believe they restrained her. She wouldn’t hurt anyone and here they are doing just the same thing that bastard did: making her powerless. I shake my head and march straight into the room, pulling up the chair beside her bed and watching her face as she sleeps.

I don’t really know how to react. I’m happy for her, so happy that she’s safe and rescued. I know I’ll make sure no one will ever, ever hurt her again. But she’s not ok. She’s so far, far from ok and I know that we’ve got a long way to go before we get her to some state of maturity, if that’s possible. I feel it’s my responsibility to take care of her. She’s fragile and impressionable and I only trust myself with her. She needs to be around someone she knows and believes in and that’s me. Not someone that will contain her and not love her. Like these fucking doctors and nurses strapping her into this bed. They can’t do things like this to her.

I quickly work to get the leather bounds from her wrists and I hear her take in a deep breath in the process. Her eyes open and she focuses on me for a moment.

Her brown eyes, so deep, in misery, they focus on me.

They stare, and stare, and stare. They stare me back into my seat and I just look at her. Her eyes search mine, she seems to focus only on me and finally, finally her eyes begin to smile.

“Justin?”

I feel like crying. To hear her say my name in that perfectly sweet way that only she knows how, it makes my heart melt. She’s alive and she seems happy to see me. But she also seems very tired, languid, sedated almost. I start to think maybe she is sedated. God, they’re just as bad as he was. Fucking putting her to sleep with medicine. I gotta get her out of here.

“Yes, it’s me. Are you ok?”

Her smile fades and she cowers a bit in her bed. “Where have you been?”

It’s been a while since I’ve been with her and I almost forgot how childlike she really is. I mean, in that situation we were all forced to kind of act like children, and I guess I was losing it near the end, but now, now that I’m better, or almost back to my old self, if...if there is any going back, it really is weird to see her like this. She still acts like she’s five. I thought they’d be able to fix some of this by now, but in a way, she seems worse. “I…I got sick, so they made me all better and now I’m here to see you.”

She’s quiet for a minute and looks at the door. She looks terrified and nervous. She whispers, “They ask me things I don’t know here. I don’t like it.” Her eyes move back to my face and she smiles a little bit. “But they let me watch movies.”

“They told you about uncle.” I don’t know why I’m bringing this up now. God, Justin, you idiot. That’s the last thing she needs to discuss right now. But something in me needs to know if he still has power over her, if he still controls her. I guess he always will to some extent, or at least until she gets over her whole child thing.

“He was a bad man.” She frowns and then looks away from me. She use to be able to look at me directly, now, now it’s like she’s ashamed. I’m gonna kill those doctors and nurses and agents that probably pried her with too many questions. They’re making her worse. Can’t they see that they are making her worse! This…this is why I have to get her out of here. No one else understands, no one else knows her like I do.

Fucking idiots.

“At least, they say he was bad.”

I grab her hand. It feels nice to touch her, to know she’s there and not just in my mind. It’s comforting. “He hurt you Sarah, and me and Trace and lots of other people.”

Once again her eyes avoid me. I start to wonder, is it me? Maybe, maybe I’m causing her to be so nervous. But all I’ve ever tried to do is help her, make her life better, love her. She can’t think that I’m mean or bad. She just can’t.

I nod slowly and sigh. I get it now. I bet she wanted me, I bet she called for me. I made her feel safe and I made her happy. And she’d call for me and I wouldn’t show up and a nurse would come in, or a doctor and I bet they told her to not think about me. I bet they told her she shouldn’t depend on me. They tried to make her feel like she didn’t need me.

But she does needs me.

“I like my old room better.”

I suck in a sharp breath and focus in on her. She’s sunk down into her bed almost completely under the covers, and she’s smiling at me a little. I smile back. “Would you like a new one?”

Her eyes widen a little and she nods.

I bite my lip and smile. I’m getting her out of here, dammit. I fucking have to. “Would you like to live with me?”

Her eyes widen even more and she sits up quickly. “Really? Like you lived with me!”

I start to feel a little sick. No, not like I lived with you at all Sarah. I won’t force her into one room and block things about the world herself from her. And I won’t force her to do things with me or take drugs. And I’d make her free and happy. I wouldn’t keep her as my fucking prisoner like that piece of shit did. Because that’s what he was. He was worse than that. He was beyond any description. He was filth.

“But it’ll be much more fun, Sarah. I promise.” I smile watching her smile widen and her eyes begin to water a little. She’s so happy and it makes me feel amazing to know I’m doing that for her. I bend down closer to her. “And guess what?”

“What?”

“I’m gonna take you flying.”

“Really?” She squeals and wraps her arms around my neck. “I wanna fly now!”

I laugh a little and pull back. “We can’t leave just yet. But I’m gonna come see you everyday until we can, ok? It won’t be long. I promise.”

“Really?” I start to realize that she’s been promised a lot of things over the course of the past, demented sixteen years of her life. 16 fucking years. Her whole childhood was taken from her, her whole time to grow up, learn about life and the world and herself. There’s no coming back from that. I just hope that one day she’ll be ok, and I hope I can make that happen. I hope I can help her start to mature and help her realize who she really is.

Patrick had promised her and promised her and he must have broken a lot of those promises. I make a vow right then to myself to make sure to try my hardest never, ever to do that to her. She’s opened my eyes to a lot of things about this world, about life, and I hope I can help to show her how to live, how to actually fucking live.

I grab her hand. “I promise Sarah. Nothing’s gonna happen to you anymore. I won’t let it. It’ll just be you and me.”

“Forever?” She whispers.

I wonder for a moment, can I deal with this forever? If she doesn’t get better, if she remains just like this, would I be able to handle it. I’d have to. I’d just have to. “Yes Sarah, as long as you want.”

She smiles at me and snuggles deep into her hospital bed. I know this is dangerous and I know that, that…honestly, I might not be able to handle this on my own. I might need help and I might not be able to just do this the way I want to for a long period of time. I know there might come a point when she’ll need to go off, find herself and be away from me. But right now that doesn’t matter. Right now, she’s smiling. She’s happy and that’s all that matters and it’s enough to give me the courage to take this on.