Suri Nightingale
Hearing my name come out of his mouth felt almost way too surreal, but at the same time it was solidifying the fact that this man is here and he is right in front of me. He is very much real.
He smiles widely, the skin around his eyes start to wrinkle. “That means ‘princess’, doesn’t it? Stella always told me how much she wanted to be one when she used to tell me stories of her as a little girl.”
I swallowed hard as I practically heard the loud beating of my own heart. Hearing my mother’s name from another person is weird. So, so weird. And the fact that it’s not about a debt, or abusive/drug-addicted/alcoholic ex boyfriend, or anything of the likes, makes it even weirder.
But I like it. It’s definitely a good change from the usual negativity connected to her name. It doesn’t mean I’m letting my guard down in front of this guy though.
“I know you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared,” I finally responded to him, emphasizing on the ‘not’.
It’s the truth. I’m not scared. I’m just… confused.
Confused because all my life my mother never told me about anyone that she knew. All my life, all we had was each other. Save for the shitty boyfriends we had to keep running away from, but those don’t count. My mother never told me about a friend so close that they would go all the way to a shitty place like this just to see me. Hell, my mother never even told me about my own father and she always kept insisting that it was just a sperm donor.
I never believed it, but I also never pushed her about it because every time I did, it was obvious it was a little too much for her to bear. She would stop herself from crying, but I knew once I was out of the room, she would cry herself to sleep. I didn’t want to break her heart even more.
“Okay,” Keith nodded slowly, acting as if I’m a child who takes longer to process things.
That annoyed me so I crossed my arms in front of my chest and put on a tougher exterior in front of him.
“What do you want?” I ask, both out of curiosity and impatience.
“I’m Keith Whitford.” He pauses as if that means something to me before he lets out his hand and the look on his eyes turn perplexed. “You don’t know who I am?”
I say nothing as I just stand there and my eyes look down at his hand then back to his face. He must have gotten the hint because he lowered his hand back down to his side.
I hate touching other people and I sure as s**t won’t be touching him, even if it is out of courtesy.
When is this going to be over, anyway? I just want to get back to work, and I can’t believe I’m really saying this, but back to my life. As shitty as it is, it’s what I’m already used to and this guy, this Keith Whitford, he is too unfamiliar and unknown to me that I don’t feel comfortable being here.
There’s a few seconds of silence, except for the increasingly awkward slow music inside the room that is meant to be for a sexy lap dance or something, but I’d rather shoot myself than do that, before he breaks the silence and says, “you can take off your mask, you know. I know you know that I know exactly who you are and what you look like.”
“Are you some kind of stalker?” I blurted out a little too straightforwardly, but it is what it is. No time nor reason to dilly-dally about it.
Keith lets out a soft chuckle, and the fine lines on his eyes crease again, before he shakes his head. “No, no. Well, not entirely. Although my team of detectives that tracked you down could be considered as such.”
Team of detectives? What the hell? This guy had me followed and taken pictures of? This has got to be illegal. I’m pretty sure there’s at least one law in this state that makes that jail-worthy.
Although looking at him and his probably million dollar suit and watch, there was no way this guy would see a day in prison. He could just snap his fingers and get out of a tricky situation like that.
“I promise you, Suri, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help you. You received my letter, didn’t you?”
Oh, s**t. Right. The damn letter. The letter that I thought was just a figment of my imagination. Suddenly I remember the man with the electrifying gray eyes that threatened me to take the letter and then again, threatened me to not do anything it said.
Until now, I still end up thinking of the way his hands wrapped around my neck and I would be lying if I said I didn’t end up doing more with that memory underneath my blanket… and in the dark…
Though I wondered if said mystery man was a part of this guy’s ‘team of detectives’. He didn’t feel like one and he certainly didn’t look like one.
Everything about this was widely mind boggling and I did not like it one bit.
I nodded once without showing any signs of interest. I didn’t want him to see that I actually cared–even if I did–so he would realize that whatever he wants from me, I will say no.
“You didn’t answer back,” he says with a soft voice, but I hear the steel in it nonetheless.
I wanted to tell him that it’s because I was pressured not to reply to it, but decided to lie because something tells me that was the safer answer.
“I didn’t think it was real.”
“I see…” He assesses my answer, nodding his head while looking to the side as if he’s putting the pieces of the puzzle together, before he turns back to me with another hopeful glint in them.
“Well, I’m here now so you know it’s real.”
I don’t know what to say. Again.
He must have noticed that I wasn’t going to respond so he added, “I meant every word I wrote there, Suri.”
Damn it. Every time he says my name there is some kind of tone in it that I can’t quite wrap my finger around. It sounds so new and so raw coming from him compared to everyone else that says it.
And by everyone I mean all the shitty people that haunt me even in my sleep.
“You good for nothing b***h, Suri.” “You’re not going to get very far in life, Suri.” “Your father abandoned you and your mother because he hated both your guts, Suri.”
I sucked in a sharp inhale as I pulled my head away from the thoughts before I spiraled into a breakdown.
Keith obviously noticed this immediately and he takes another step closer, worry in his eyes, as he lets his hand out. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
I let out a shudder. My mother used to call me that.
“I’m fine,” I responded a little too harshly than I wanted to come off so Keith backed up. I didn’t mean to sound so agitated because he’s actually being really nice, but it’s that exact reason that all of this is becoming a little too hard for me to process.
Nobody is really ever nice to me. Nobody since my mom died. I don’t want to trust anyone. I can’t.
“Just… tell me what you want.” I try to sound indifferent about this whole thing, but I know that it’s not coming off like that in Keith’s ears. Not that he seems to care.
A small smile finally graces the man’s face, like he’s been waiting for me to properly ask that from him. His shoulders relax as he lets out a deep breath.
“I want you to come live with me and my sons.”
HUH??? Okay, it’s official, this guy is bonkers. I’m out of here.
I don’t even bother to say anything before I turn around and place my hand on the door handle, ready to step out, when Keith calls out for me again in a panic.
“No, Suri, please, just hear me out.” I hear the desperation in his voice and I don't know what in the world came over me, but I stayed.
I didn’t turn back around to face him, but I stood there, hearing him out. Why exactly? I have no freaking idea.
“I told you in that letter that I want to give you a good life. The one you deserve. Let me give that to you, Suri. I’m sure that’s what your mother would have wanted, too.” His eyes are kind and sincere, like he means every word that he says.
To be completely honest, a part of me believes him, believes all of it. He may actually have been a friend of my mom and now he wants to pay it forward or something.
The other part of me, though, that one is more like the devil in my head saying that this was just a trick and nothing ever good happens in my life. For all I know, Keith is some kind of kidnapper and I’m going to be auctioned off in the black market. A huge stretch, but like I said, with the kind of life I’ve lived, it wasn’t totally impossible from happening.
My hand is on the knob, tightening and untightening, as thoughts invade my head. It’s getting so cramped up there that I feel like I’m about to have a headache or my head is going to explode.
Fuck. s**t. Damn it.
I know I curse a lot, but this situation is in need of it.
Finally, I got the courage to turn back around and face him. With a deep breath and a fake surge of confidence, I give him my answer.
“Sir, I appreciate your kind gesture and for going all the way here, but I don’t know who the hell you are and if your claims are even true. So if you don’t mind, I would like to go back to my work. Have a pleasant night.”
I say all of that, surprisingly, without stuttering, and after I’m done I turn back around and get so close, like a millisecond away from escaping when…
“Just so you know, I didn’t want to have to go to Plan B.” Keith’s voice is deeper and more serious now and something about that made me feel uneasy.
But I force myself not to get affected and once the door is open, Boris is standing there all big and intimidating.
I’m actually glad to see this big guy because that means he can drag Keith out of this place and he will be just another thing from my past.
Unfortunately, I realized I spoke too soon when, in the blink of an eye, my feet were off the ground and my torso had been slammed into his broad shoulder.
What the hell?!
“What are you doing?!” I shrieked in panic and confusion. “Boris, help me!” I cried out for Boris and I saw him going near us, but Keith shouted.
“Suri Nightingale is underage! She’s seventeen years old and I am her legal guardian so if you know what’s good for you and this club, you will step away or else every bloody cop in this town will be swarming all over this place in under five minutes! I will have you all arrested without bail!”
Holy. s**t.
Suddenly, Boris, whom I thought was my savior, backs away. I panic even more.
“Let me go! Oh my god, you’re crazy!” I shriek as I hit him on his back continuously.
I don’t know what kind of workout this guy does, but he doesn’t even so much as budge with all of my hits and before I knew it, we were back down at the first floor and I’m being carried out of the club.
Seconds later, we’re outside. I see another pair of fancy shoes before a door unlocks and I don’t even get a chance to say anything else before I’ve been thrown into the back of a car, my body laid out on the posh leather seat.
The door slams and the engine starts.
Did I just… get kidnapped?!