White water lilies bob up and down in a small pond in front of us. Morgan pauses briefly before taking the microphone to her mouth. “Reid, today you’re mine forever, and this makes me the happiest girl to walk the earth. They say when you find the real thing you know, and you don’t hesitate to hold it tight in your possession. I knew from the day on those university grounds when I said, ‘Hi, I’m Morgan,’ that I’d marry you. I truly did.” She smiles broadly. “I will love you for all the days of my life. I will hold you in your darkest hours. Honour you in all you accomplish, and laugh with you through every great milestone. Nothing will ever be too much for us to handle, for we will always have each other and will find strength when rough times seek us out.” Tears well in her eyes. “Your lips are my home, your hands are my comfort, and your heart guides my future. I’m honoured and privileged today to be your wife. Keep me safe, keep me warm and loved, Reid—that’s all I’ll ever ask of you, and in return, I’ll be by your side no matter what. You’re my everything. My Friend. My lover. My now husband. My Reid.” Her hands tremble as she grasps the thick gold wedding band between her fingertips. “I, Morgan Amelia Cuttings, take you, Reid Elis Banks, to be …”
The sound of a door closing causes me to jump. Where am I? Why are doors slamming?
“Reid.” It's an unfamiliar voice, and for a moment I’m confused until I find myself standing in a room that brings me the sensation of peace.
I’m looking down on a wooden floor. I’m calm. I know I’m alone, yet waiting for someone.
“Are you ready, baby?” Her hands brush my waistband.
I smile in response.
“You are edible in that suit, Mr Banks.”
I turn swiftly and breathe in her vanilla perfume. Morgan’s my life. It’s all I can think when my eyes meet hers. “I’m ready to sweep you off your feet and show these clowns how it is we dance, baby.”
Morgan smiles as her big brown eyes fill with mischievous intent. I can read her like a book. I’ve never felt so close to another person in my life.
“You’re my Aphrodite, Morgan. Beauty, pleasure, and procreation draped in a white wedding dress; I’m so glad you said yes.”
A sweet giggle slips from her mouth as my arms desperately fold her in, pressing her body taut to mine.
“I love you, Morgan,” I whisper against her cheek.
“Reid finally succumbed to sleep. Just leave him there. There's no point waking him.” That unfamiliar voice returns, and as I search for the man who has ownership of it, I feel Morgan slipping out of my arms. What’s happening?
The room we had our first dance in grows dark and as it does my stomach rolls with worry and the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention.
“Come away with me,” Morgan whispers, and I’m drawn to follow her bright silhouette invading the darkness.
I smell the ocean salt before I see crystal blue water. There’s a light breeze rushing over my body as a white curtain sways impeding the ocean view.
“I love it here in Barbados, Reid, and I never want to go home. Can we stay forever?” Morgan lays peacefully in my arms. “I love the sound of ocean waves crashing on the shore. How will I ever sleep when we return home without this sound?”
God, she’s beautiful. I don’t want to leave her. I don’t want to go home. “Hmmm,” I moan. “We should stay here forever.” I nip gently against her neck. “I love you, Morgan.”
“I love you too.” She rolls until she’s perched up on her elbows. Her adoring gaze tells me of her love. “I love you so much.”
I can’t help but pull Morgan down on top of me and hold back the hair falling over her face by cupping my hands to her cheeks. “The honeymoon might be almost over, Morgan, but I can’t wait to start my life with you. I promise every day will be just like this.”
Her smile is a gift from God. Oh, that smile of hers is a mix of pleasure, peace and heaven.
Ring, ring.
It’s a faint sound.
Ring, ring.
It grows louder.
Ring, ring.
“What the fuck is happening?” I rub my eyes, trying to figure out why I hear ringing in our hotel room since we specifically asked for no electronics to be included.
“Here, take it.” It’s a woman voice.
It’s not Morgan’s.
“What?” I’m half asleep. Lost.
“Take it. Wait for my signal.” A phone is held an inch from my nose. “Reid, get ready to answer the phone. It’ll be him.”
“Who?”
“Reid. You were asleep. Now you're awake. Your wife is missing. The guy who has her is calling. You need to fucking switch on.” Maloney holds my chin in a pistol grip while glaring into my eyes. “Reid, you need to take this call. Morgan's missing. Wake up.”
I fell asleep. I was only dreaming. I’m not surrounded by love and happiness.
I’m living a fucking nightmare.
Morgan
I’m weightless, and I know I’m being carried because I can feel his chest expanding and then deflating against my cheek. I can also smell the aroma of sweat mixed with something that reminds me of my grandfather’s shoe polish. His fingertips are digging into my ribcage and at my thigh, and I desperately want to pry his hands from my skin, but I can’t move my arms or open my eyes.
He whistles. It’s the same eerie tune I’ve heard many times now.
Where is he taking me?
“Oh Red, Red, Red, you’ve had a rough day out there today, haven’t you?” He sports a strong British accent.
I want to scream, who are you? But my tongue, like the rest of me, seems paralysed.
“It will all be over soon.” He speaks so calmly, and the pressure below my ribcage and digging in at my sides vanish. My body lowers.
At first, I can’t place the cold sensation travelling up my legs, over my stomach, then on to my breasts. All I know is I’m suddenly freezing. Inconsistent splashes follow. Water. I’m wet.
“Just a few more smudges to wipe away,” he says, as my lips begin to sting. “They’re busted up pretty bad.” His words are laced with contentment. “I know you can hear me now, Red.”
My head jerks back, and I hear the thud before the dull ache travels across my skull. I want to scream out, but I’m unable to open my mouth.
“This next bit I will leave up to fate. You will save yourself or you won’t. Your life is resting upon your desire to live. You can move, Red; you just have to want it bad enough.”
My only response is my heart, pumping hard and fast in my chest.
There’s a soft creak followed by the shifting of a latch, and then the sense of someone being close to me is lost. Am I alone? Every breath I take is quick and harsh. Move, Morgan; you need to move. But I can’t. Impending danger awaits me. The threat of death lingers in the air. A neck-prickling fear creeps along my skin.
Water trickles down my cheeks, and without warning I flinch. I moved. I can move. The taste of salt seeping in between my lips alerts me to my flowing tears. I’m crying. My lips twitch as tears continue to race over them, and by the time I take three long breaths to bring myself calm, I have managed to wiggle my fingers.
Move, Morgan! I scream in my mind as I continue battling my conscious state and my limbs, which feel as heavy as stone.
Left. Right. Left. Right. It’s only minimal movement, but I rock my head. Urgent warnings sound off in my brain, telling me to stop because I can’t see what it is I’m facing. Why can’t I open my eyes?
I slide. I’m slipping. I try to press my hands down to stop myself, but I can’t. Help me!
I’m halted abruptly.
Don’t breathe, don’t breathe, don’t breathe. I hear this chant as I struggle against my muscles, which ache intensely. My face becomes as cold and wet as the rest of my body.
My head is underwater.
I flick my eyes wide with ease as if I’ve been able to do so the entire time. What is happening to me? Dirty brown fills my vision and in this brown colouration drifts small clear bubbles, bubbles that resemble those created from expelling air, the air I acknowledge is escaping through my now pressed lips.