14 parents

My heart thuds heavily, sweat dripping down my back.

There's nothing that I can do to get out of this situation unharmed.

This is the very same man who Jess had told me about. Now that I know she works for this man, I'm not sure if I can go by her words. Yet, some part of me wants to believe her. Something in me, call it sixth sense or whatever, tells me that she left me a clue.

A clue to who my real enemy is.

Maybe it is this man. He checks off all the boxes. He's rich, and definitely influential, considering how the atmosphere changed when he walked in. He's got a beard, motive being my grandfather's said mine. Why he needs the mine, I'm not sure. But I know that he won't stop harassing me anytime soon.

With Elijah bound, the two men's focus was now on me. However, upon considering their devotion to the bearded man, I get a feeling that they won't do anything to me unless he, the bossy dude, gives orders them to do something.

That is something that could possibly work in my favor.

If I manage to manipulate, or at least stall the man in the suit, I can get away, at least for a while.

"I'll get the documents, but what is it that's going to benefit me? What will I get from this exchange?", I ask boldly, pushing my fright away.

"An intelligent girl, I see. What else would you possibly want other than us living you alone, Ms. Whitaker?", he asks, his voice smooth and velvety.

I'm sure he's a businessman or at the very least in the marketing field, because, good lord, that voice.

"I want fifty percentage of your profits from the mine. Oh I know how much it's worth, sir, I'm not going to give all that away for nothing.", I say, bluffing for the most part. I didn't know that this mine existed till recently, however it makes sense that the mine is worth a considerable amount, especially when an obviously rich man is spending so much time in order to obtain it.

His eyes widen in surprise, as if he expected me to know nothing about it.

Well, he's not technically wrong.

"Ms. Whitaker, I'm sure you're a clever young lady, but what makes you think that you're in the position to be negotiating with me?", he asks, a small smile growing on his face.

"You want something I have, but I don't need anything from you.", I say, my confidence growing with every word I say. "Every trustworthy deal has an equal balance of power. Surely, you know that Mr..?" I look at him questioningly, smiling my most appealing smile.

"Val. Call me Val.", he says, showcasing his pearly whites.

Of course, he's attractive, villains always are.

"Of course, Mr. Val. I will bring the mine documents, while you bring me a contract specifying our shares, preferably in the halfway mark.", I say, smiling earnestly, my earlier fear nowhere to be found.

Such men always have a calming effect on me, despite being some of the vilest people to walk earth. A huge waste of looks, in my opinion.

He chuckles, his jaw twitching in anger, however that is something that won't be visible to an untrained eye. Years of tip toeing in my parents' house has its benefits after all. I extend my hand forward for a handshake, hoping that I have done enough to ensure that I am worth signing a deal with.

"Partners? With you? With a kid still in high school? Yeah no.", he says, laughing in my face.

"Really, Mr. Val, I expected much more from you. I can go to say that I'm even slightly disappointed in your actions. But note this, I will personally ensure that you can't get your hands on the mine documents.", I say, dropping my hand, feigning sadness.

Sure, I really am disappointed in him for not accepting the deal. But this may still work in my favor, if I try hard enough.

"Ms. Whitaker, I'm sure you take me for a fool, but I promise you that I wasn't born yesterday. This agreement.." he gestures, "will never work. Why? Because there's an obvious imbalance in the power held. I am stronger, wiser, and older than you. Surely you don't think, a woman, could possibly think that she's worth a whooping fifty percent share in my gold mine.", he says, laughing at me, as if he found this whole thing silly.

Oh I'll show him silly, you wait.

"Your gold mine? Sir, aren't you getting a little too ahead of yourself?" I say, smirking. "You'd think that such a clever businessman like you would know how to not refuse a good deal. Goes to show how incompetent some people are.", I say, feigning sadness, mocking him.

His anger, though well suppressed was evident, his body language shifting as each word left my mouth. "Do you know who you're talking to right now?" he says, calmly, his eyes glinting with anger. "Ms. Whitaker, I could have you killed you right now, and yet, you're here standing there, cockily negotiating with me. I admire the guts you have, young lady, but you ought to use your brains just a bit more.", he says, his anger clearly visible now.

Oops, might've slightly damaged his masculinity there.

"Sir, you and I both are aware of the implications of my death. If I do die, the mine will become the property of my parents. Surely that's not what you want, is it? There's definitely a reason why you haven't tried taking the mine from us before. And my guess is.." I say, looking directly into his eyes, "that you cannot take it from my parents. There's some catch, isn't there, Mr. Val?" I say, smiling.

"Oh you clever little girl, you got me there.", he says, chuckling at my words. "But, you see, you missed this one little possibility. Murder isn't the only option I have you know..", he trails off.

The cogs in my brain begin moving. He's hinting at torture, the kind he did to my parents, and possibly even Jess. I have to admit, the idea did cross my mind, but upon judging his character, I assumed he'd use the torture card as a last resort.

My bad, I didn't think that he would be such a big douche.

"I assure you, Mr. Val, that I will get the documents to you as per Jess's request. However, my deal still stands. Offer me a fifty percent share, and I'll let you have it.", I say, not raising my hand for a handshake this time. [after all it's a matter of self respect]

"Forty, and we have a deal.", he says, lifting his hand this time.

I smile, glorious at my small victory. I shake his hand firmly, his hand cold yet strong around mine. I'm pretty sure I'll regret this deal sooner or later, but that's something for another time.

"Hemmingway, untie the poor boy. I'll have a word with him outside.", Mr. Val says indicating to Elijah.

Huh, they knew each other beforehand?

Judging by the glares that he keeps giving Mr. Val, it seems like he does. But how?

I mean it's none of my business of course, yet there's something that irks me about this whole interaction.

Something keeps telling me that there's something that Elijah's keeping from me.

Something big.

And I'm not going to rest until I figure out what it is, especially when it could possibly be a weakness of Mr. Val. Anything that could remotely be Mr. Val seemingly has no chink in his armor, however everyone has their own faults and weaknesses. Whatever that may be, his Achilles' heel is going to be my only way to get out of this whole situation.

I sigh, as Mr. Val, along with his two minions, walk outside.

However elaborate my plan is, I still need to figure out the whole mine thing.

And for that I need to go home.

**********************************

16th September 1970

Wednesday

I cannot sleep.

The man with the suit, Mr. Val, keeps appearing in my dreams. Or should I say, nightmares. His two henchmen, those two men who we had escaped from, keep appearing, strangulating me. I woke up not once, not twice, but thrice to the feel of baldy's hand crushing my neck.

I search for, Elijah, wanting someone's presence to take my mind off of things. I look around the empty warehouse, finding him gone.

Oh, yes, he had left with the man in the suit. Earlier on, their conversation had turned heated, voices raising. I had got a few glimpses of what their argument was about. Something to do with some girl named Fiona. Elijah kept yelling that he didn't like her and he'd rather eat his own socks than stay with her.

Upon hearing his phrasing, I let out a huge snort.

They probably heard it, given that the warehouse walls were far-far away from being soundproof. They moved away from their spot outside the door, to a place where they couldn't be overheard. Elijah came back after a bit, saying that he's going out of station for awhile and that I'd have to take care of the library while he's gone.

He quickly packed his things and left, leaving me standing there, all alone with just a bunch of keys. And boxes. Lots of boxes.

I had started a small fire, roasting meat for my dinner. Despite the food not being enough, I curled up in the soft pillow like arrangement I had slept in earlier, and began sobbing. Whether out of loneliness or homesickness, I'm not sure. But all I know is that I sobbed and sobbed for hours on end, not stopping, even to try figure out the cause of my sadness.

I seem to be doing this a lot lately. Crying for hours on end. I think that's what stress does to you.

Oh well. At least I get it out of my system.

I sigh, and begin pacing the floor of the now pitch dark warehouse. My mind wanders to what I plan to do tomorrow. I'll show up to my house, skipping school tomorrow as well. It's not the best of ideas, especially when I'm the Council President. But this is the only way I can get a hold of Father, before his trip to France. He leaves tonight.

I need both my parents present, especially when I don't know which side the grandfather-with-the-mine is from. Now that I think about it, my parents always closed off when speaking about either of my grandparents. It's always "They're not nice people, Lena" or "Lena, stop talking about them." I always thought it was because their parents cut their children off due to some argument or misunderstanding, something to do with their marriage.

But maybe, there's more to this.

Maybe they never cut us off. Or maybe they cut us off due to the mine. Whatever it is, there's hundreds, if not thousands of possibilities to what could've happened. I have no idea what, or how to ask my parents what it is.

Yeah, they're my parents, I should be comfortable to ask them about anything.

But after I stormed out yesterday, I can't bring myself to admit that I need them. Call it an ego issue or whatever you want. It is still embarrassing. And pathetic, if I say so myself.

Stop it, Lena. Stop being so pessimistic. Yeah, you need their help. Big deal.

Yes, it is a big deal. Do you know how stupid I'll look standing there, my clothes ragged and dirty, my appearance so unkempt? It proves them that I'm still a child. One that lacks basic hygiene.

I smell my pits, worried if I smell that bad. The stench that emanated from it was enough to make an entire town to clutch their noses and run for cover.

I really should shower.

The best thing I can do right now is get some shut eye. But judging by the sounds of a hen crowing, I doubt I have the time for it. I should hurry if I need to get in town before Father heads to his office. I sigh, knowing that the lack of sleep will hit sometime later.

My parents are going to go ballistic. It's not something that I can control, especially given their somehow really short tempers.

But, I really do need that document. And I'm ready to endure all sorts of torture, [stop being so dramatic] in order to get my hands on it.

I begin heading towards town, sometime around half past five. That's a guesstimate, I have no idea what the time is.

I trudge down the dusty road, worrying about how long it would take to reach town. Given that I'm stuck in the outskirts, in the countryside without a house in sight, I have no options but to walk the entire distance.

I'm not even sure if I know the route to the town.

I drag my case, shoulders slumping. Half an hour of walking and I'm already tired. Not physically, but mentally. How long till I see the town? Am I actually heading in the right action?

And the fact that there's not a soul in sight, adds to my frustration. I can't even ask for anyone for a lift.

After hours, or maybe even days of walking, a green car goes down the road and into town. I almost sob out of relief, thanking the stars for sending me this car. I halt the car, sweat dripping down every pore in my body. My legs ache, a migraine beginning to grow. Damn it, I should've slept.

The driver, an old man with one of the kindest faces I've seen stops the car.

"Are you okay, missy?" he says with a slight Southern twang.

"Not quite, sir. I'd love a lift into town?" I say, doubtfully.

"Of course, sweetie, hop right in!" he says, quite happy to lend me a ride.

He starts the car, and he sped down the twisty roads, my back plastered to the seat. After a stomach churning ride, he drops me a few blocks outside my house. I thank him, grateful that he never asked what, or why I was in the outskirts all by myself. Juts before he drives off, he says, "Listen here, missy. You look like a good girl. Don't run off on your own. There's all sorts of weirdos here.", he says, smiling kindly.

I nod, thanking him yet again and walk off. What a nice man! I wonder how he figured out that I ran away from my house. I would've kept pondering, but upon sighting my house, a mixture of emotions washes over me.

I get a sudden urge to kiss my house, grateful for a sense of familiarity.

After all the back-to-back adventures, almost all off them traumatizing, I feel like I've struck the lottery when I sight an ice-cream van rolling down the street. I run towards it, dirty clothes and everything, rummaging my case for some change.

I've always loved ice-cream vans.

I don't even love ice-cream, but the entire experience of getting an ice-cream from the van is even better than the dessert itself. I hurry, my suitcase dragging behind me. I manage to find a few coins, praying that it's enough to buy a cone.

I ask for a honeysuckle cone, my favorite flavor. What can I say, I've got a sweet tooth. I hand over the change quickly, and grab the cone. I skip to my doorstep, licking on the ice-cream. The delicious sweetness fills my mouth, as I knock the door.

I'm not sure if it's the sugar, but my earlier worry about seeming pathetic in front of my parents, was nowhere to be found.

I hum a tune, wishing dearly that Father hadn't left yet. The lock twists, as my heart sinks to my stomach momentarily. However, I regain my composure just as quickly, putting on a beaming smile. Mother opens the door, looking like she hadn't slept in years. Her bruised eye, now completely healed, is replaced by just as dark eye bags. Her hair looks messy, tousled from what looks like sleep.

It's seven in the morning. Mother never wakes up this late. What has happened to her in the few days that I was gone?

"Lena?" she yelps, surprised, yet somehow sounding tired.

"Mother!" I exclaim, and I rush forward to give her a hug.

She steps back, alarmed. "Lena, where the hell have you been? I thought you were dead.", she says, sobbing uncontrollably.

I drop my hands awkwardly, confused by her words. Dead? How?

"Mother, what are you talking about?" I ask, concerned by her sudden outburst.

"Lena, there have been.." she hiccups, "there have been letters. Frightening letters describing your torturous death.", she says, sobbing even harder.

"From whom? And have you gone to the police?" I ask, my voice breaking upon seeing Mother so sad.

"No! They said that we'd die if we tried going to the police. It's all the work of that wretched man.", she spits, disgusted by whoever she's referring to.

"Which man, Mother?" I ask.

"The man who took your father and me. I'm sure it is him.", she says, her voice much steadier. "Damn him and his smooth talks.", she mutters, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

"Mother, does that man happen to have a greying beard?" I ask cautiously.

"Yes! Yes, that's him. Do you know him? Does he know how you look?" she asks, worrying again.

"I might've met him once, Mother.", I mumble awkwardly.

Her demeanor changes as quick as lightning. She grabs my shoulders urgently, and begins shaking me, saying, "You must not see that man again! Whatever nonsense he utters, it's all lies.", she spits.

"Mother, actually I.." I trail off.

"No buts, Lena. Now come on in, you stink.", she says, making a face.

I smile, happy to see Mother for the first time.

After I clean myself up, I go downstairs, hoping to find Father. I find him standing in the kitchen, whispering something into Mother's ear.

"Hi Father, how have you been?" I ask, smiling.

"I was terribly worried about you, Lena. Never leave us like this again! Look at your poor Mother. She wouldn't stop crying.", he says, reprimanding me, despite being concerned.

"I'm sorry, Father.", I say, meaning it.

"Good.", he says.

"Father, I was meaning to ask, is there something grandfather left me? You know, after he died.", I ask, my voice trembling ever so slightly.

The tension in the air charges, as Mother and Father look at each other, alarmed expressions on their faces.

"Lena, who told you about this?", Mother asks, her anger apparent.

"Jess and I were just casually talking about this a few days back.", I say meekly, lying. I mean, technically it's not a lie, but I still felt guilty hiding things from them.

"Lena, listen here carefully. You are not to mention or talk about this to anyone. Your grandfather left you a mine, a gold mine. Legally, it's yours now, given that you're eighteen. However, I warn you, this mine always brings about tragedy in this family. I urge you to not speak about this to anyone.", Father says, whispering.

"But Father, why haven't you told be about this before? Why all the secrecy? Wh-" I say, before Mother cuts me off, her earlier concern nowhere to be found.

"Lena, do as you are told. All these kidnappings are taking place because of you, and your mine.", she spits, her disgust for the mine clear through her tone.

"Your mother is right, Lena. This mine brings about terrible fortune, and I'm not talking money wise.", he says sadly, obviously disappointed.

"But if we had such a sought after mine, why didn't we make a use of it? Why are we still dirt poor?" I ask, curious about the mine's history.

"Don't ask so many questions, Lena.", Mother bursts, angry by my incessant questions.

"But-", I begin.

"I'll call the office to inform that you won't be present at school. Go upstairs and get some rest.", Mother says coldly.

I sigh heavily, feeling stupid.

I shouldn't have expected a clear response from them. They just sort of repeated what I already know.

I have a deadline to give the document. I just have a week's worth of time and if I don't figure out things by then, I'm dead meat. Notice how no one's here to help me figure things out? Yeah, and what's with all the raise voices between Mr. Val and Elijah? What beef do they have? And is it something that I can manipulate to work in my favor?

All these questions can be easily answered, only if I knew where Elijah is.

His house isn't the best place to check, given that he too ran away. He won't show up at school either, considering the fact that he gave me the keys to the library.

So where the hell is he then?

I begin pacing the room, weighing the different possible scenarios that I might find myself in, if I don't manage to get my hands on the paper. The smooth talking Mr. Val, would probably smooth talk his two henchmen to torture me, military style. Nail ripping, skin peeling, teeth plucking, a variety of things specifically designed for me. I wouldn't put them past raping me either, given that they had already attempted it earlier.

I sigh, maybe for the millionth time today.

I fall into bed, sinking into my soft cushions. Words cannot explain how much I missed this bed. I snow angel happily, my worries momentarily leaving my head, as I moan at how comfortable it feels.

I drift off at some point, waking up to Mother shaking me violently. I wake up groggily, yesterday's lack of sleep making me want to sleep for longer.

"Lena, come get breakfast. Someone's on the phone for you.", she says.

Her voice feels unnaturally loud, my mind still half asleep, barely comprehending her words. A phone call? For me?

"Tell Jess I'll call her back.", I say, and turn to the opposite side, dragging the covers over my face.

"Lena!!" Mother says, shaking me even more violently.

"It's a boy on the phone", she says, as if the word is cursed.

A boy? Who?

Now fully awake, all kudos to her violent shaking, I rub my eyes, the sleep not leaving my eyes. "Who Mother? Did he give a name?" I ask, my voice barely audible.

"Some boy named Eli. Don't give out your number to boys, Lena. It's disgraceful to our family name.", she says sternly.

I sigh. Not even two hours since I got back and she already began nagging. And who's this Eli dude? Never heard of him before.

I drag myself downstairs, my head still heavy with sleep. My back aches, my entire body sore from the recent events. My thigh burns as I walk down the stairs, the after effects from yesterday's running hitting me in the face.

I'm never running again.

I slowly trudge down, to find the dining room empty. Father must have left for work, I think sleepily. I rub my eyes, and grab the telephone, muffling a yawn, and say, "Good morning, Lena here. May I know who is speaking?"

"Lena, it's Elijah.", he says, his voice sounding urgent.

"Good morning, Elijah. Why did you introduce yourself as Eli, you could've just-", I say, before he cuts me off.

"There's no time for pleasantries, Lena. I just wanted to tell you something.", he says, his nervousness clear through his shaky voice.

"Yeah, of course! What happened?", I say sunnily.

"Lena, Mr. Val.." he says, before correcting himself, "Mr. Valentine is my father."