We sat there silently for several moments, too shocked to move. Then we both jumped into action, as if we read each other's minds, scrambling to get our boots and coats on so we could run outside to flag down the helicopter for help. Neither one of us was in any way prepared for what happened next.
The door of the cabin was practically thrown off its hinges as several SWAT team officers stormed into the house with guns drawn.
“Freeze!” The commander shouted.
I shrieked in surprise and dropped the flashlight I'd been holding.
The officers kept filing into the cabin; four of them rushed to me and surrounded me while the rest kept their guns trained on you. I realized with dread that this was a rescue effort – for me – and that you were going to be arrested. I knew you'd be in trouble for abducting me, but we had been planning to put together a believable story so that you wouldn't be thrown in prison. As far as I knew, we had five months of planning ahead of us, but now, all of that was thrown out the window as you stood facing at least twenty heavily armed officers.
“No!” I screamed. “It's not what you think!” But it seemed that no one even heard me as the officers moved ahead with their plan upon seeing that you had your hands up in surrender. One moved behind you and yanked both hands behind your back and then he viciously forced you to the floor. I winced as I heard your head smack against the hard wood. The first officer dug his knee into your back while the other patted you down and searched for any kind of weapon. Then the first officer handcuffed you and yanked you back up to standing. I heard you grunt from the pain of being manhandled so fiercely.
“Zayn!” I sobbed. You looked at me with the most heartbreaking expression crossing your face – you looked like an animal being led to slaughter and I wanted nothing more than to run to you and kiss you and tell you that everything would be all right. I tried to move toward you, but I was restrained much too harshly by the officers who were “protecting” me.
I couldn't get to you, but I made eye contact with you and shouted, “I love you, Zayn! I love you! Everything will be okay!” I wanted you to know that, even in this terrifying moment, I would do anything to be with you, that I hadn't been just playing a game with you until I was rescued, that my love hadn't been a charade that I was planning to drop as soon as we returned to civilization.
“I love you!” I sobbed loudly one more time before you were hauled out the door and to a waiting helicopter.
“River?” One of the officers asked while I was still crying hysterically.
“You don't understand! He didn't hurt me! I love him – please don't hurt him! Please!”
“Ma'am, you can come with us now. You're safe,” spoke one of the officers.
Safe? He didn't even listen to what I said. You never intended harm for me. How was I going to convince them of that?
I watched as the remaining officers began to scour the cabin for any evidence they could use against you. I felt sick as I realized that they would find the guns. And then I realized that the most damning piece of evidence was upstairs, lying under our bed along with my purse.
“My purse!” I blurted through my tears. “I have to get my purse!” And I tore away from the officers, racing upstairs and throwing myself on the floor next to the bed. I felt around for the journal and hastily shoved it inside of my bag, zipping it closed before anyone noticed.
As I was led away from the cabin towards the helicopter, I cried uncontrollably. I couldn't form any coherent words because I was completely sick at the thought of you being torn away from me so violently.
We boarded the helicopter and I was forced to lie down on a skinny stretcher while a medic began to examine me. We rose away from the cabin immediately, prompting me to cry even harder. I couldn't believe what was happening. I was being forcefully separated from you. I didn't care if you were going to jail – I wanted to be in jail with you, sharing a cold cell and a flimsy bed with you.
I willed myself to calm down. “Where are you taking him?” I yelled over the din of the helicopter.
No one answered me.
I yelled louder. “Where are you taking him?”
Still no answer.
I became frantic, begging for any information about you, but no one even seemed to hear me. “Please! Please! I have to know where to find him. I have to be with him! You don't understand – I love him. He didn't hurt me – Please, tell me! Tell me!” I screamed so loud that my throat hurt. I began thrashing against the stretcher, trying to get up and away from the probing hands of the medic. But I was quickly restrained by several pairs of hands and then I felt a sharp jab in my shoulder and everything faded away.
I woke up hearing quiet noises - humming, beeping, muted voices. I struggled to open my eyes and I quickly realized that I was in a hospital bed. I looked to one side and noticed that my hand had an IV line buried in it and a blood pressure cuff was wrapped loosely around my arm. Then I rolled my head slowly to the other side and saw my mom and Nolan sleeping side by side in two very uncomfortable-looking chairs.
“Nolan,” I whispered hoarsely.
His eyes flew open and he launched himself on top of me in a full body hug. “Oh, my god, River! Thank goodness you're okay.” He squeezed me so tightly that I couldn't breathe.
I managed to squeak out a whisper. “Nolan, you're crushing me.”
He started laughing and pulled his weight off me and then kissed my face about fifty times. “Mom! She's awake!”
Then my mom mimicked Nolan's actions, crushing me with her hug and crying into my pillow as she squeezed me. “Oh, baby, we were so worried. Everything's gonna be okay now, all right?” She sat back on my hospital bed, still squeezing my hand until it felt like she was cutting off the circulation.
“I'm all right, Mom,” I said, beginning to panic as I remembered your violent arrest. “Where's Zayn? Is he okay?”
“Oh, baby, you don't have to worry about him anymore. He's in custody and he'll be in prison for a long, long time.”
“No, Mom, no! You don't understand. He's not a bad person. They can't put him in prison. Please, I have to see him.”
“Sweetie,” Nolan said, coming around the other side of the bed. “You don't know what you're saying. You're delirious. They said you were really dehydrated when they brought you in.”
That didn't sound right, but Nolan continued. “There were bruises all over your body, so we know he hurt you. But he can't hurt you anymore.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head, feeling utterly confused. Why would I have bruises all over my body? And I'm fairly certain I wasn't dehydrated. I was feeling wonderful when you and I were sitting together on the loveseat. I began to cry at the memory, feeling like you were a thousand miles away. As far as I knew, you were.
I felt Nolan, brushing my hair away from my face, shushing me and telling me everything was okay.
“No, Nolan, it's not okay! You don't understand! He didn't hurt me – he took really good care of me. And I...I love him!”
“Baby, you don't know what you're saying-” my mom began, but I cut her off with my screaming.
“Yes, I do! I do know what I'm saying! I love him, Mom. I know you can't believe that – I can hardly believe it, but it's true! I promise you, it's true, Mom. I love him more than I've ever loved anyone before. Please,” I said, sobbing maniacally. “Please, Mommy!” I whimpered, sounding like I was a kid begging for candy at the checkout counter. “Please tell me where he is.”
“I don't think I can-”
“Dammit!” I screamed. “You can tell me! Tell me now or I'm walking out of this hospital right now and I'll find him myself!”
A nurse came rushing in and asked what was going on. My mom and my brother jumped in, trying to tell her that I was inchoherent and not making any sense, and I tried to scream over the top of them, so the nurse left and came back within seconds, with two other people in tow. I don't know who they were, but they came to me and held me down while the nurse injected something into my arm and once again, I was met with darkness.
I didn't have any idea how much time had passed when I opened my eyes again, but they were burning and my eyelids still felt heavy. The heaviness moved to my heart when I remembered what had happened. I watched a team of armed officers place you under arrest like you were a vicious criminal, but they didn't know you like I did. They didn't know the sweet, compassionate, wounded soul that I had come to know in just a few short weeks.
My heart ached for you, Zayn. I felt so lost, not having any idea where you were or what was happening to you. And what was worse, my family didn't believe me when I tried to tell them about you.
I sighed deeply and then I tried to come up with a plan before anyone noticed that I was awake. I had to figure out a way to make them believe that you didn't hurt me.
I carefully lifted the blankets off my legs and noticed two bruises. Two. I remembered how I got them. One was from a log that I had dropped while I was carrying wood into the cabin. It landed on its end and fell against my shin. The other bruise was from throwing myself onto the floor when I was looking for my purse under the bed; it was a big, ugly bruise across my left knee. What had Nolan been talking about when he said there were bruises all over my body?
And he said I was dehydrated. Maybe it was because I'd been sedated ever since they took me away from the cabin and didn't think to wake up and ask me to take a drink of water.
I was so frustrated that I started crying again. How was I going to fix this?
“Hey, River,” Nolan said, noticing I was awake again. “How are you doing, sweetie?”
“I'm okay,” I sighed. I wanted to jump right back into trying to convince him that you were harmless. But I realized that if I started freaking out, they would just sedate me again. I had to keep my brain alert and functioning so I could figure this out.
“When can I go home?” I asked.
“I think they are going to discharge you after you speak with a psychologist. They want to make sure that you are um...stable before they release you. And they want to make sure you have some follow-up appointments in place. We can call your therapist in Grand Forks if you want to see her again.”
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Winnipeg. The rescue choppers brought you here, but when you're released, we can go straight home.”
“Okay,” I said quietly. “When is the psychologist coming?”
“Some time this afternoon. If he thinks you're up to it, we can probably go home tomorrow.”
My mom came back into the room just then and smiled reassuringly at me, but I could tell she was afraid that I was going to freak out again.
“I'm fine, Mom,” I said flatly. “I just want to talk to the psychologist so that I can go home.”
After a mediocre lunch of a dry hamburger and floppy french fries, the psychologist came in.
“Hello, River, I'm Dr. Quinlan,” he said, extending his hand to me. I shook it lightly and he asked, “Can we talk for a bit?”
I nodded.
“Do you want your family to stay or would you like to talk to me alone?” He asked.
“Alone.”
My mom looked a little hurt, but Nolan led her out of the room.
I studied Dr. Quinlan for a bit. He appeared to be in his late 40's and he had a 5 o'clock shadow despite the fact that it was only 1:00 PM. He had a squashed chin that made it look like he was frowning. I wasn't sure I was going to be comfortable talking to him, but I wanted to do whatever it took to get out of the hospital.
I had to find you.
“So, River. Can you tell me what happened?”
I took a deep breath and said, “I was not kidnapped.”