The Lost Ones

Chapter 11

Tension echoed in the air. Between Halo and Holden. Between Holden and Kit—who was apparently Skye in the eyes of everyone but himself.

Kit still couldn't believe what he was seeing. His dad, the man he had only known for ten years of his life, the man who always came home late from work but still managed to tuck him into bed and read him bedtime stories about far off lands, the man who always took him to watch horror movies—that is, when Kit's mom permitted—the man who took him and his mom for long walks along the shore of the beach by their house. I never knew he was so unhappy with his life. Maybe because Kit was only a kid and, like all young children, he wanted to see the good in everyone. Even when he noticed how distant and cold his father had become, months before he took his own life.

Halo quietly spoke through the phone. His voice sounded feeble. "Why? How could you, Holden?"

"You really don't know, do you?" Holden brutally questioned. He laughed hysterically, but his face became dark. He began pacing the room. "All these years, you always thought you were better than me. With your own company, your fancy clothes, your indoor pool, your unnecessary mansion, your stupid ego. I was finally doing well at work until you fired me. You just couldn't stand that I was better than you at something."

"I fired you because I caught you touching my wife!" Halo shouted furiously. "You don't deserve a position in my company!"

"You took everything I had!" Holden's voice started quivering as he yelled.

Halo snapped. "What about your family! I didn't take them away from you! Your wife, your son—Why don't you make taking care of them your job?"

When Kit saw the callous expression on Holden's tight face, his heart shattered into pieces. Dad...

Halo went on. "You've always wanted what I had..."

"You never cared about what you had! That's why you ran away before high school graduation! You had everything, a full-ride scholarship to college and a prestigious internship in London. But you, being the ungrateful bastard you always were, decided to go backpacking around Europe while I worked my ass off in school. And now I'm working for you? That's bullshit!"

"You chose your life, just like I chose mine!" Halo told him. He paused. "And yeah, I've never been the grateful type. But I've learned to be happy with my life, to cherish the people I have around me and the time I have on this earth with them. Maybe it's time you learn too."

Holden didn't say anything for a while. He hid his eyes, which were the same blue color as Kit's, behind his short, black bangs.

Squeezing the phone tightly in his hands, he said in a low but hard voice, "Two million by Wednesday. If it's late, I'll cut off her ear. And if you call the police, I'll rape her."

He hung up before Halo could respond and flung the phone across the room. It collided with the wall right above Kit's head and pieces went flying everywhere.

Blinking away the tears of torment in his eyes, Kit stared at the man he once called dad. Holden's face was stained with some sort of unrecognizable pain.

The man began walking towards him. Kit tried to speak, but nothing would come out of his mouth. He began flailing in the chains and a sick look flickered in Holden's eyes.

From behind, the second kidnapper asked Holden, "What are you doing? I thought you said—"

"Shut up. Go get me a pocket knife," Holden snapped, without looking back at him. He kept a steady gaze on Kit.

The second the kidnapper left the room, Holden raised his hand and smacked Kit to the ground. Kit let out a muffled cry. Dad!

Holden lowered himself and pinched Kit's chin, forcing him to make eye contact. Kit tried to jerk away, but his dad's grip was tight.

"You have your mom's eyes," he whispered. In a disappointed tone, he added, "Why couldn't Jane be more like Adriane?"

An unexpected sting jabbed Kit's chest. Why do you always talk about Mom like that? He wanted to kick Holden away from him, but the man pinned Kit's legs down with his hands.

Then, when Kit felt the man's hand brush up towards his thigh, he threw himself back against the wall. Holden only shifted closer. Dad, stop! Tears were pouring out of Kit's eyes now. Tears of fear. Tears of disgust. Tears of deep hatred. He shut his eyes, praying he would soon separate from the body he was in that wasn't his own.

Kit opened his eyes when the icy touch of his dad disappeared. He was no longer in that dimly-lit room and his legs and hands weren't bounded by shackles anymore.

He found himself sitting on top of a queen-sized bed with a purple canopy draped over him. The pillows around him had animated Japanese characters on them and the comforter design was a figure with brown, spiky hair holding an enlarged key as a weapon.

On the walls were framed certificates and ribbons neatly organized around the room. There were also several picture frames of a girl doing all sorts of activities, from horse-riding to archery to swimming.

Kit recognized the spoiled girl. Skye. He had awakened in her bedroom, once again in the large, Victorian mansion. Had he been asleep? Was what he saw only a dream then?

It may have been an illusion. But it wasn't a dream nor some figment of his imagination. It was the reality of Skye's past. No wonder her parents had been so strict. They would never let her go anywhere because they were afraid that she would get kidnapped again.

But it wouldn't be because of Holden again. The day after he had brought home an enormous amount of money from an unknown source, Kit remembered, Holden drowned himself in the bath tub.

"Dad...why?" Kit slumped into the bed, still shocked at what he had seen. Before committing suicide, his father had kidnapped Skye, raped her, and used her as ransom—all because he was jealous of his own best friend's life.

Kit really did bear the weight of his father's sin. And what made Kit even more sinful, he realized, was that he might never be able to forgive his dad. Father Roman was right. There's sin everywhere. And I'm the source of it. The fact that his dad was so unhappy with his life, with his own son, that he decided to take his anger out on a friend and an eight-year old girl...It had to be because Kit didn't do enough to make his dad's life worth living.

Tears filled his eyes and he scratched them away. "I'm sorry..." Kit breathed, placing his hands over the cross on his necklace. "I'm so sorry."

What was he supposed to do now? He still had to find Skye. But did he have the heart to tell her the truth about her kidnapper? She must have been too young, or maybe even too traumatized, to remember that the man who snatched her from her family and raped her had been her father's best friend—and the father of the boy she would meet ten years later. He would have to decide sooner or later.

It wouldn't be long until he found her.

Coming from the hallway outside, Kit heard Skye's high-pitched scream and he dashed out of the room.