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by jblove Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Drama · #1476726
Jake, a rich 24-year-old, makes a bet with his friends involving a kindapping
The Kidnap

I must start off by saying, I only did it because I had had a bit too much to drink. Any other full-grown man would’ve stopped at a limit, either because he had a family to go home to, or a budget he had to keep to, or perhaps simply he had a little quality I like to call, common sense. I, unfortunately, have none of these. You see, it is expected of a millionaire’s son to be perfect. This means that I should be intelligent, good looking, sensible and do not, and will not, ever cause my family or myself, any sort of embarrassment.  Besides the good looking part, I clearly lack all of the above. Last night, yet again, proved me right.
It was well into the night and me and my rich friends had been going at it all day; drinking beer, wine, whisky, vodka, rum and any other alcoholic beverage we found on the menu, as if it were air that we were sucking in. As we were sitting around, some of us sleeping, some of us vomiting and some of us simply continuing to pour down booze, one of us brought up the fact that we really had no challenges in our lives. We had everything we wished for basically. At least, everything that money can buy. And let’s face it, now-a-days, money can buy everything. So we decided we must have a goal, a challenge, something that can’t be bought on e-Bay.
I clearly recall that I was not the one that came up with the idea, but my fairly plump friend, Richie. “Let’s kidnap someone.” You are correct my friend, my first thought was exactly like yours: outrageous. But as we laughed and talked about it, settling on a goal and the rules, it seemed more and more exciting and less and less outrageous. Something I could spend time and energy on. So, with tequila in hand, I screamed out, “Kidnapping it is. We find someone and must keep them locked up in a house for one week.” I remember pausing for a minute, “There is only one rule… No one may help you. This is a solo mission.” With a loud cheer, and not to mention a big “Bow to Jake Kingston, THE MAN!” we raised our glasses and toasted on the bet. There was no going back now; a deal is a deal.

It’s just not fair. Blake isn’t nearly as talented as I am and still she got the part of Juliet. I mean, did they miss the part in Shakespeare’s classic where they said she was like the sun, meaning she was pretty? Obviously. Clearly, the only reason she got it was because her sister is dating the director’s son. Anyway, as I was on my way home, pondering on whether making my brother hit on the director’s son (There is always a slight chance he might be into men) would work, I met someone that would change my whole life. Of course I didn’t know it then, but trust me, I sure would find out.
“Excuse me miss, I think you dropped something.” The warm voice from behind intrigued me and so I turned around slowly, making sure the wind caught my long blonde curls just right. Apparently it did, because the man raised an eyebrow when he saw me. Yes you heard me, man. Not boy, not guy, not teenager; a real man. What a pity, how could I explain to him I just don’t do the whole 10 year difference? Because boy, the way he was looking at me, he sure was considering it.
Anyway, as he gave me the book I had dropped, he introduced himself. “Excuse me mademoiselle, I am Jake K—Smith.” He took my hand and kissed it. Ok, how old is he? Didn’t they do that like a 100 years ago? He looked no more than 25, maybe 26 tops. But maybe he was the slow type, and it just took him a while to pick up the modern habits. Anyway, he was looking at me expectantly. Was I supposed to say something? Name! Ha! There you go. Good job Sophie.
“Hi, I’m Sophie.”
“Extremely pleased to meet you, Sophie…?”
“Davis.”
“Ah, Davis.” Was it weird that he still hadn’t let go of my hand? It only got weirder. He suddenly pulled me in and whispered in my ear, “You must never repeat what I say to you now for it is tremendously confidential information.” I suppose I nodded my head because he continued in the same, urgent fashion. “I am a special agent sent to protect you. Your family is in danger and there are men who might take radical actions to secure that your family is not a threat to them anymore. So radical, they might lead to death.” I gasped; was he insane? “Please come with me, for if you don’t, you, and your family, will seriously wish you had.” I gasped yet again. He set a distance between us, so that he was no longer whispering in my ear, yet never let go of my hand. I wasn’t sure what to think. I felt silly that I was so preoccupied over the stupid play part when clearly there were more important matters at hand. If my family was in danger, I wanted to be with them. I’m not sure what convinced me so easily. Maybe it was the fact that I had always been quite gullible, or because of the desperate and urgent look in his eyes, or simply because I felt extremely attracted to this man. Regardless, something made me believe him.
“But… why can’t I be with my family? I want to know that they’re ok.” He nodded understandingly.
“It’s too dangerous for all of you to be together but I can keep in contact with the other agents who are protecting your siblings and parents to see if they’re well. We have to go now though, it’s not safe for you to be out her in the open eye.” I nodded. What was it about this man (sigh… a man) that made me believe him so easily? Despite the consequences, I stepped into his Volkswagen truck and sped out of the city, heading towards… safety?

I never imagined it would be so easy. The girl only hesitated once. I knew I was good, but that good? I had planned to show my fake FBI badge to her and go into a long and quite tedious tale on the importance of family and self-sacrifice. The situation, however, did not require that. As I drove onto the familiar road to the “Escape Cottage”, an oasis where I could get away from everything and everyone, I felt that this time my visit would be slightly more compelling and perhaps less soothing.
The girl had been interrogating me about my job, life, family, views on casting for plays such as Romeo and Juliet (I do not know why she was so interested in my opinion on this matter) and managed to sneak in questions on my personal life and whether I had a girlfriend. The latter I confirmed negative. I assured her, I don’t date. Was it me or did her eyes hint towards a flash of disappointment?
Actually, disregarding the fact that she was a minor, the girl was quite attractive. She had long blond locks, piercing black eyes and voluptuous pink lips. She was tall for her age and so appeared older than she really was, but she had a young, girly laugh and her thoughts appeared innocent enough. I enjoyed her company, that I cannot deny, but maybe my liking towards her was not a good thing. To be quite honest, it wasn’t a good thing at all. If I sympathized with my victim, I might lose the bet. That would be bad. So I tried to block out the fact that I was lying to Sophie, that I was breaking the law, that she might be traumatized for the rest of her life by this, or any other thoughts that might bring up unfamiliar feelings of guilt.
We entered the cottage and I showed her around. I made her vow never to leave the place without my permission because Their spies could be everywhere. She nodded nervously, her face starting to sweat and the adrenaline visible in her eyes. Was this so frightening? She’s so young, maybe… No! I must not pity her. I looked out the window and swallowed hard. A deal is a deal, I told myself. I turned back towards Sophie. She looked at me expectantly, not knowing what to do and expecting me to tell her exactly that. “Just put your stuff in that room. Mi casa, tu casa.” She smiled, her row of pearly white teeth shining brilliantly. Ok, so this would be a challenge.

I had been staying with Jake for a week now and he had explained the whole situation to me. Since my father was head of this company who had just had a major break through, a rival company was less than thrilled and so wanted to kidnap my family in order to ask for a ransom, but most importantly, the withdrawal of the brilliant new idea. He kept me updated every day on how my family was and he assured me this would all soon be over. I hoped so too… well sort of.
You see, I loved talking to Jake. We didn’t only talk about my dilemma but also about other things. School, politics, religion, movies, music, EVERYTHING! And he was so funny, and sweet, and intelligent; and… 24. Yes I know, it’s so wrong. It could never happen, but dreaming never hurts right?
Anyway, as I was sitting on the couch, reading a book, Jake came in. He had just come back from the police office. I glanced up quickly but then got back to reading. “Hi,” I heard him say, but I didn’t pay much mind to it. Then when he said it again, this time louder and more urgently, I put down my book.
“Hi,” I responded and noticed that he seemed… sad? “What’s wrong?” I asked quickly. He shook his head.
“Nothing. I have good news,” he started. I sat up straight now. If he was going to give me good news, he could at least do it with a smile on his face. “You can go. Your family is safe.”  I couldn’t believe it. I mean, of course I had been waiting for this for a long time but I never thought it would be settled this soon. Plus, I was sort of getting used to, and enjoying, his company. Maybe it was for the best.
“So… I can go home?” I asked, just to check. He nodded and looked up at me. A melancholic smile sapped the energy out of his eyes. I got up and gave him a hug. “Thank you so much for what you have done to me. I don’t know how I can ever repay you but if I can, just holler!” I was trying to speak in a funny accent so that he wouldn’t be so down anymore but it was hardly working. He smiled but didn’t say anything. “So, are you taking me home or what?” He nodded again and as I untangled myself out of his embrace, he held on firmly. “Jake…” I tried. I didn’t want him to let go. Stop it Sophie! This is bad, this is bad… or not?
“Sophie...” he started, his voice trembling. “Look, whatever happens, I just hope you’re ok and that everything goes back to the way it was before we met.” I tried to interrupt but he hushed me. “Let me finish. I haven’t been completely honest with you this last week. The story, about your father… it’s made up.” I swallowed hard, gasped and shook my head. He was kidding. OF COURSE HE WAS!
“Yes, ok that’s fine.” I said, going along with the joke.
“No. You don’t understand. I made it up. Your family is fine. Everything was just a bet. A stupid, stupid bet. I’m so sorry. You can call the cops on me, send me to jail, I deserve it. I’m—“ he stopped and looked up at me. What was I supposed to say. That it was ok? It wasn’t ok but why did I want to say that to him. I wasn’t angry at him. I was angry at myself. Angry because I had believed him so easily, because I was so gullible and naïve. Angry for being so stupid and not using common sense. I wriggled myself loose of his grip on me and stormed out the door. I think I heard him yell after me but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t care. I just wanted to be alone. I didn’t want anyone to know me, be with me, pity me. I just had to… scream? Cry? Laugh? I don’t know. What do you do when you realize the last week of your life has been a lie? They should write a book on how to deal with those situations. But of course, no one has, because no one is stupid enough to believe a complete stranger. Well, no one except me.

I was miserable. No, I was worse than that. The sight of me made you want to cry. It was that bad. My hair hadn’t been combed in days, the same goes for my clothes (including the undergarments) and I smelled horrendously. I was sitting on the couch in the “Escape Cottage” but I am quite sure the room did not help me not think about her. Everything reminded me of her; the couch, the TV, the shower, the floor, the paintings, the air conditioning, the flowers, everything! Even things that didn’t remind me of her, reminded me of her because they didn’t remind me of her. I was literally going nuts.
Then it came to me. I should distract myself. I picked up a book but the fact that it was the last book she had touched did not help matters. I tried to do a crossword puzzle but the fact that I had no basic knowledge, only depressed me more. So I switched on the TV. Soap, commercial, commercial, soap, sports, commercial, commercial, music, commercial, commercial, commercial… NEWS! Current events always cheered me up. At least I wasn’t as bad off as the people somewhere in the world.
The reporter, with his perfectly shaped eyebrows and gelled hair, started off in a matter-of-fact manner. “The President hopes the current situation in India ameliorates rapidly. To local news. The search for the 15 year old girl, Sophie Davis, has been concluded and the girl returned home safely, by herself.” I turned up the volume and sat millimetres away from the screen. “The girl had been missing for a week but strangely enough, came home by herself.” The screen shifted from the news man to a police officer. “As in most cases,” started the police man, with great authority, “young teenagers run away because they are unhappy. This, was simply one of these cases. At first the parents thought it was a kidnap but I assured them that was absurd. And I was right.” Gees, this guy has got an ego. The screen shifted again and a beautiful teenage girl, with blond locks and piercing black eyes appeared on the screen. It was her. I couldn’t believe it.
“I ran away. I don’t know why but I had to get away. I’m really ok. I don’t remember where I went. I guess I just wandered. I apologize to my parents.” I couldn’t believe it. She was covering for me. After all I had done, she was protecting me. Making herself look like a lunatic on national television just so that I wouldn’t get in trouble. As my usual self I would have said that I have that effect on people, but I knew this was nothing to be proud of. “I just wanted to say that this has changed my life, and that I have learned never to be so stupid again. In a way though, I am glad. I have learned something from it,” her eyes seemed to strangely focus on me, “I hope you have too.”

It was all over. Finally, I had moved on. Well, almost. I did secretly have a picture of him on my phone that I only glance at a few hundred times at night, but besides that, I have indeed completely moved on. I needed to. It isn’t healthy for a 15 year old girl to live like this. I should do things my age, like things my age, think about things for my age. Instead, I am stuck thinking about something not even close to my age.
As I was pondering on the matter, the phone rang. Crap! Not another news reporter wanting to triumph over my ridiculousness. I picked it up and let out an impatient “Hello.”
“Hi.” No, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be him. I was dreaming. I had wanted to talk to him so badly that maybe I was imagining it. I suppose I didn’t say anything because he repeated it. I still didn’t answer. “Sophie? Look. I understand if you don’t want to talk to me. My behaviour has been despicable  and I have come to beg for your forgiveness. I just… I’m really sorry. I feel so foolish. But it does not matter how I feel. I just hope that you are all right… Are you all right, Sophie?”
A question. I guess I should answer. I nodded. Oops, we’re on the phone. He couldn’t have seen that. “I’m fine.”
“Good. Good. Umm… so, I was hoping maybe we could meet up. I could make it up to you.” He continued, trying desperately to receive any sign of life from the other line. I wanted to see him. I really did. I just want to talk to him. See him when he says he’s sorry, tell him I forgive him and then maybe… it could be something.
“No. I don’t think that would be a good idea.” I don’t know why I said it. It just came out.
“I understand. But… do you forgive me? You have no idea how bad I feel, I just wish I could let you know my sweet Sophie.” Oh this is bad. I’m falling for him all over again. I sighed. I think he heard me because he said, “Please… forgive me and I promise I’ll gain your trust again.”
I swallowed hard, and said, more than quietly, “You have my forgiveness but you can never have my trust again.” I hung up the phone. The line went dead.

The End.
Based on the song Sway by the Perishers
© Copyright 2008 jblove (jb2010 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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