Kidnapped: Book 1 1/2

Chapter 22: Living.

"Dad!" I screamed. I scrambled off my feet and sprinted toward the house. As I burst through the door my father collided with me. I threw myself into his arms and began to recount the story. My whole body was shaking and the tears were rolling down my cheeks.

"Isabella, calm down. Tell me what happened." Dad ordered. He pulled me into the living room and sat me down on the couch. I looked out the window toward the spot I'd seen Mark. He wasn't there, but he had been. Dad followed my gaze, his eyebrows knitting together when he saw nothing. He looked back at me.

"Isabella, honey, tell me what happened. Was it something at school?" He asked. I knew what voice he was using on me, it was the one he used on victims and crazy people. He thought I was going crazy--again.

"I saw him Dad, I saw him." I wept. I covered my face with my hands and let the tears fall.

"Saw who honey?" he whispered.

"Mark," I answered. Dad stood up and hurried to the window. He looked in every direction. When he didn't see anything he sprinted to the door, and I could hear him circling the house, checking anywhere someone could hide. After ten minutes he returned and knelt down beside me.

"Tell me exactly what you say," he said. He didn't sound like my father anymore, he was in police officer mode. Not only had this man kidnapped and raped his daughter, byt he'd also been the only criminal that my father had to call in back up for.

"I was leaning into the car to get my backpack and it felt like someone was staring at me. I stood up and turned around and he was there, in a bush. He ducked behind it, and that's when I came for you." I recounted, sniffling. My father's face softened and he stroked my cheek.

"Honey, I don't think he was there."

"You don't believe me?" I shouted, jumping up. My father rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around me. I tried to shove him away, but he was much stronger. "I saw him Dad, I swear to God that I saw him."

"I don't doubt you did, Izzy, but Mark is dead. I think the stress of the first day back to school may have made you a little antsy." Dad explained.

"So now you think I'm seeing things?" I snapped.

"I think that you've had a tough day. Sometimes I get paranoid when I'm stressed out too. You should go upstairs, rescue your son from your mother, and take a nap. Jack hasn't slept since you left. And another thing. Mark Young is dead, he can't hurt you anymore Izzy. He's gone."

"You're right," I muttered. I pulled away and took a deep breath, collecting my thoughts and regaining my composure. Dad reached out and ruffled my hair.

"I'm always right," he teased. I didn't have enough energy to roll my eyes. I plodded to the stairs and scaled them at slug like pace. A boring day of school and a meltdown will take a lot out of a person.

Once I'd reached the top stair I tapped lightly at my parent's door before pushing it open. My mother was sitting at her desk, working furiously on something at the computer. She turned to me, gave a small smile, and went back to slamming the keyboard. Jack was playing at the bottom of their bed, under a leather covered bench. As soon as he noticed I was in the room he broke into a toothless grin. He shrieked and waved his arms. As I began to walk toward him he dropped onto his stomach and began to slither toward me. I smiled. No matter how bad my mood was, Jack's silly baby things would make me feel better.

"I missed you Jack!" I exclaimed as I picked him up. He giggled and shrieked again. He opened his mouth wide and leaned against my shoulder, a habit he'd fallen into recently. He gripped my hair in his hand and nuzzled into the crook of my neck.

"How was school dear?" Mom asked. She didn't glance up from the computer, but she didn't type as fast.

"Oh you know, the usual. Mr. Drew thinks I'm a trashy whore who got myself knocked up in a desperate attempt to keep my boyfriend from leaving, everyone whispers about me when they do attendance, the teachers look at me as if they expect me to break into tears, Megan doesn't have lunch with me, everyone is too afraid to talk to me, oh and Ryder and I made up." I told her. She frowned and sighed. She turned away from her computer.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No thanks, that's what you're paying Ben to do remember? I talked to him today too."

"That's great honey, what were you shouting about downstairs?"

"Nothing," I said too quickly. "I'm tired, I think Jack and I are going to take a nap."

"Isabella, I really think we should talk about this." Mom said.

"I don't want to talk, I want to sleep." I muttered. I left the room and went down the hall. Emma and Andrew were at soccer practice, so I had three whole hours to sleep before they got home and made everything awful. I laid down on my bed and set Jack on my chest. He soon drifted off to sleep.

I smiled down at him and realized something. Since Jace had left I'd spent months in a deep depression, acting like one of those whiny little bitches I hated. I had been horrible to my friends, even pushing Ryder away when he tried to be my friend. Sure I didn't want a boyfriend, but did I really have to treat them like dirt? I'd wasted the first few weeks of Jack's life hating him, and now I wished I could go back and smack that Izzy across the face. What was I thinking?

I sat up suddenly, but Jack stayed fast asleep. I wasn't going to waste the rest of my life fearing someone who didn't exist, and missing someone who wouldn't be coming back. I should be enjoying my time with my friends and Jack. I wasn't going to sit around anymore and waste time. I put Jack in his crib and went downstairs.

"What are you doing?" Dad asked.

"I'm going to sign up for the swim team." I said. And with that I left the house.