Chapter 15 - Letting Go

Georgie swayed slightly but managed to remain standing, dressed in a grey pullover sweatshirt and sweatpants, hugging the light blue rucksack the bastard had given her to her chest. Her eyes were blank as she stared straight ahead. Robert struggled wildly to be released from the guards.

As soon as they let go of him, he went to her and put his arms around her. "Georgie?" he said gently, but she didn't respond. She was completely gone.

He felt a hard shove on his shoulder, letting him know he needed to start moving. He tightened his hold on her and pulled her along with him, willing her to start walking. She stumbled a little and he worried he was going to have to carry her, but then she began putting one foot in front of the other as guards surrounded them, leading them down the hallway.

He concentrated on keeping her moving forward, looking at their feet and not paying any attention to where they were going. He fought back the feeling of terror that the bastard was fucking with him again, that this wasn't what it seemed, that they weren't really being released.

After they'd been walking for several minutes, he heard Georgie say, "Robert?" faintly with a raspy voice as if she'd just noticed he was with her, and he suddenly became alarmed. He wasn't sure how she'd react if she realized what was happening and he couldn't risk her having some kind of breakdown while they were being moved. He didn't know what the guards would do if she did, and he didn't want to take any chances.

"Georgie, I need you to be very quiet and very brave. Can you do that?" he said fervently in her ear.

"Yes," she whispered, and then was silent as they continued walking.

He only knew they were out of the building when he saw wet pavement under their feet and felt bitterly cold air. Georgie was barefoot and he heard her suck in her breath. Terrified she might react, he held onto her even tighter and kept her moving forward, desperately praying she'd stay quiet.

Within seconds, they were at the open side of an empty van. He was shoved hard from behind, making him fall onto the cold metal floor, landing half on top of Georgie since he was still holding her. She let out a whimper and he quickly got off her. He started sliding across the floor and tried to pull her with him but she was too heavy. A guard picked up her legs and started shoving her across the floor of the van. She grabbed onto Robert looking terrified and he tightened his hold on her, pulling her as she moved towards him, trying to get her away from the guard.

When he reached the far wall of the van, he laid with his back pressed against it and held Georgie tight against his chest, her head tucked under his chin, his leg wrapped around both of hers, trying to protect her as best he could. She grabbed handfuls of his t-shirt and then became completely still in his arms. Some of the guards climbed in and the van door slid shut. The men sat on the floor around them, watching him intently as the engine started and the van began moving.

They drove for a long while before the van stopped and its engine turned off. He saw one of the men pull out a small black leather case and open it. When he pulled a hypodermic needle out, Robert was suddenly filled with terror, fearing the bastard had ordered them killed and their bodies dumped somewhere.

When the man tried to take hold of Georgie's arm, Robert shouted, "No!" and swung his fist, hitting the man's wrist and knocking the needle out of his hand. He clutched Georgie tighter to him, desperate to protect her from what was coming. She began whimpering with fear and her body was tense in his arms. Then a hand gripped his shoulder hard and he jerked back, ready to face the new assault, prepared to fight them all to the death if necessary.

He focused on the face of the man looking down at him. It was the guard from the hallway, the one who'd convinced him not to go to Georgie. The man spoke reassuringly to him in French. While Robert searched his eyes, he thought he understood. They were going to be drugged so they could be transported, not killed. He felt Georgie relax against him a little, and realized she'd understood what the man had said.

Robert prayed he wasn't lying and didn't resist when the other guard took Georgie's arm. Robert watched him give her a shot and it wasn't long before she went completely limp in his arms. Then another needle was produced and the man grabbed onto his arm so he could give him a shot.

Robert wrenched his arm out of the man's grip, shouting, "No! Give me a minute! I want to make sure she's still breathing!"

The same guard from the hallway said something to the man with the needle and he sat back on his heels and waited. Robert gently leaned Georgie's head back and looked down at her beautiful pale face. She looked like she was sleeping, her mouth open a little. He leaned his head down and felt her slow steady breaths on his cheek. He didn't resist when he felt a pull on his arm and a needle pricked his skin.

"She better be with me when I wake up," he growled, just before everything went black.

Robert sat up suddenly gasping for air, his body shaking and his heart pounding with fear. He looked around his dim bedroom, reassuring himself where he was and that he was alone before he collapsed back on his bed. He put the crook of his arm over his eyes and tried to calm his breathing as images flashed in his mind. After a minute, he rolled over and pulled his bedcovers over his head, desperately trying to turn off his mind, deeply troubled the nightmare had returned.

It had been nearly two weeks since he'd had his relapse and taken to his bed. Since then he'd managed to pull his life back together. It wasn't easy. He still felt the constant ache in his chest and every day was a struggle to keep the desolation from overwhelming him, but it felt like he'd reached a point where the life he was living was normal, or at least as close to normal as he was going to get under the circumstances.

He'd settled into a steady routine of getting up and going to work, running when he got home to exhaust himself before dinner, and then afterwards being so tired, he usually fell into his bed, thankfully falling asleep almost immediately. He knew he could manage to carry on if things stayed as they were. But if the nightmares returned, he feared the whole bloody thing could fall apart on him again.

When his breathing was finally calm, he still wasn't able to turn off his mind, deeply disturbed by the dream. It was clear he wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep and he gave it up. He looked at his clock and sighed deeply, it was only just after three. He had hours to kill before it was time to get ready for work.

He pulled off the bedcovers and climbed out of bed, feeling defeated. He picked up his laptop and quietly went down to the kitchen. Once he'd made a mug of tea, he sat at the kitchen table and opened his laptop. When he logged onto the internet, he suddenly slumped in his chair as the pain in his chest worsened.

Why now? Why did she have to send him another fucking e-mail? Why wouldn't she just leave him the hell alone? And why did it have to be the same night as he'd had that fucking nightmare? He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, sighing deeply.

He couldn't do this again, he thought with despair. The pain was almost too much to bear the first time round. And besides, he couldn't afford it. His dad would surely kick him out of the house if he took to his bed again. He would delete it, he told himself firmly. He would delete it without reading it, and then delete the other three e-mails. He could do this. He took a deep breath to steel himself, and then clicked on his inbox.

Fuck. There was an attachment. The file was named Lake.jpg. She'd sent him a fucking picture. He slumped in his seat as he felt his resolve crumbling away. He realized it was useless to fight this. He couldn't force himself to delete it now. He'd just go ahead and get it over with. He'd read the fucking e-mail, look at the picture and once he'd satisfied his curiosity, he'd delete all of it and forget about it. He took a moment to prepare himself and then clicked on the e-mail.

Dear Robert,

I hope you're still doing good. I'm doing good. I hope your mom and dad are good and Mary, Betsy and Darrell too. I miss everybody a lot.

You won't believe it! I finally went into the city by myself yesterday. I really wanted to see Lake Michigan again, and I wanted to prove to myself I could do it. I'll be honest, it was hard. I got scared a few times but I did okay and I was able to keep the fear from taking over. I took the train (we call it the 'L' here) and I went the same way that Mom, Frankie, and I used to go when we went to the beach to swim in the summer. Mom always had Frankie and me be in charge of getting us there and I was surprised I still remembered the way.

The weather wasn't very good, but I was glad because there weren't very many people there. I knew it was going to be hard for me to be someplace that had so many memories, and it was. I cried a lot while I sat on the beach. I missed mom and Frankie so much, and I remembered all the happy times I had there with them, but after I was done crying I felt better and I was glad I went. I know I'm lucky I have so many memories even if they make me sad. Some kids lose their families when they're too young to remember them at all.

I remembered you said I could send a picture with an e-mail so I took a picture with my mobile because I wanted you to have an idea of how big Lake Michigan really is. Grandma May helped me get it on the computer so I could send it to you. I'm in the picture too. I just wanted you know that before you look at it.

I guess I don't have much more to say except I've been doing a lot of thinking. Grandma May keeps saying I need to start making plans. Every day she pushes me to think about my future and what I want. Did I tell you she was tough? She used to teach high school English in the tough neighborhoods in Chicago so she had to be. Now she's being tough on me but I don't mind. I know she's doing it because she loves me. And I know I have to start making decisions before its too late.

I love you and miss you. I understand if you don't write to me but I hope you will.

Love, Georgie

For some reason, hearing how much better she was doing didn't hurt as much this time. Maybe he was resigned to it by now. She was moving on with her life just like he was moving on with his. Maybe it was a sign he was letting go. And he was happy for her. She'd been able to do something that brought her some peace, and maybe a little closure. If there was anyone who deserved it, it was Georgie.

Now it was time to look at the picture. It didn't matter she was in it, he knew he was going to open it. It wasn't even worth trying to fight it. He steeled himself. This was going to be ten times harder than reading the e-mails. He took a deep breath and clicked on it.

The file was large and when the picture opened up, it filled the screen. Instead of feeling the crushing pain he was expecting, he stared at it with shock. He couldn't fucking believe it. She was wearing his old denim jacket with the zip up black hooded sweatshirt underneath it. She'd fucking stolen his jacket.

---Then---

Betsy was home for the weekend. She'd made plans to go to the club with Robert, Georgie and Darrell. It was hard for Robert to believe, but they'd been home for well over a month already and had yet to go to the club. Since it was Georgie's first time clubbing, Betsy had demanded she be there, not just to experience it with her but to get her ready, declaring Robert too clueless to be able to help Georgie do it properly.

The four of them had eaten an early dinner with Robert's parents and then the girls went upstairs for the hours of necessary preparation while he and Darrell cleaned up the kitchen. Or rather, Robert cleaned up the kitchen while Darrell sat at the table and watched him, the two of them comfortably silent as usual.

While Robert washed the dishes, he remembered the dream he'd had in the flat, the one where he and Georgie were at the club together. He couldn't help thinking that if he hadn't had that dream, he might not have had the idea to ask the bastard for her freedom, and she might not be upstairs with Betsy right now getting ready to go to the club for real. He'd probably still be looking for her on the west coast of the States, and perhaps never find her.

While the dream played out in his head, he remembered how she'd had her hands over her ears because the music was too loud for her. He let Darrell know he'd be right back and ran up to his bedroom. He could hear Georgie chatting with Betsy through the door of the girls' bedroom. He knew he had a pair of earplugs somewhere in his room and found them in the bottom of a drawer. He put them in his pocket and went back to the kitchen.

When he was finished cleaning up, he and Darrell went in the sitting room and sat on the couch. Robert turned on a football game and the two of them soon lost themselves in the match while they waited for the girls. After a while, Betsy came down the stairs and Darrell quickly grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. He stood up and Robert did too, excited to see how Georgie looked.

Betsy was the shortest of the siblings, and curvy like their mum. Robert thought she looked nice tonight, wearing a short black dress with a narrow waist that showed off her assets but didn't go overboard and make her look too tarty. Her best features were her large brown eyes, heart shaped face and dimpled cheeks. She had the same light brown curly hair as Robert but unlike him, she kept the curls loose and wore it in a bob.

Then Georgie came down, and Robert was rendered speechless. In his dream, she'd worn black wide leg trousers and a loose silky blue top because she didn't feel comfortable showing too much of her body in public, but this was obviously not the case in real life. She was wearing a simple gold sleeveless dress that hung from her shoulders and sparkled every time she moved. It skimmed over her body, giving a hint of the slight curves on her slender figure and was short, stopping just above her mid-thigh, showing off her long legs perfectly. On her feet were gold ballet flats.

Her dark brown wavy hair was in a single braid but Betsy had made it loose so it framed her face, the braid wrapping around the back of her head and hanging over her right shoulder. Betsy had applied her makeup with a light touch, accentuating her natural beauty without making her look overly made up. Robert felt incredibly grateful to Betsy for what she'd done for Georgie.

Unlike Robert, Georgie's face fell when she saw him. "Is that what you're wearing?" she asked, the disappointment evident in her voice.

He looked down while Darrell began laughing loudly next to him. He was still wearing the clothes he'd been in all day, jeans, an old t-shirt advertising his band, and his black converse trainers.

"What? This is how I always dress when I go to the club," he said.

"Oh – okay," she said hesitantly, looking at him like she wasn't quite sure she believed him.

Betsy turned towards her, saying, "Georgie, blokes don't usually dress up for the club, so don't worry about how Robbie looks. We're the ones who get to do that, yeah?" Georgie seemed relieved hearing her expert opinion.

Then Betsy smiled wickedly at Robert, saying, "Besides, Robbie wouldn't want to go to the club looking too pretty," making Darrell laughed even louder.

Shit. He was never going to live that one down. He'd forgotten to warn Georgie that wasn't what you called blokes. He punched Darrell lightly in the shoulder to get him to stop laughing.

"Well? What d'you think?" asked Betsy, holding her hands out towards Georgie as if she was showing off a prize on a game show. He should've said what he thought, that she looked beautiful, but because she looked so different from how she had in the dream, he said the first thing that popped into his head.

"The dress is short, yeah?" Georgie immediately looked concerned.

"Do you think it's too short?" she asked while Betsy said in a loud voice at the same time, "The dress is not too short, Robbie!" Then she turned to Georgie.

"What did I tell you to say if Robbie didn't like how the dress looked?"

Georgie smiled shyly at him, and said, "Sod off, Robert." Robert couldn't help laughing because she sounded so cute saying it with her accent. Darrell tried to hold back his own laughter, wanting to avoid getting another punch.

"Relax, Robbie! She's wearing two pairs of knickers under there so no one's gettin' any looks," Betsy said, waving her hand dismissively.

Robert walked up to Georgie, and took her hands in his, looking in her vivid blue eyes, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, thinking how this night might never have happened.

"I can't believe how lucky I am," he said quietly, trying to stay in control so Betsy and Darrell wouldn't see. "You're going to be the most beautiful girl at the club tonight," and then he kissed her cheek. Georgie's face was glowing after the kiss and she started tearing up a little.

"Don't make her cry, Robbie!" Betsy said loudly, pulling Georgie away from him. She began fanning Georgie's eyes with her hand, as if to make the tears evaporate. Georgie must've been warned this might occur because she leaned her head back and started fanning her eyes too.

When they were all getting ready to leave, Georgie pulled Robert's old denim jacket out of the front closet. Betsy was horrified.

"Georgie, you can't wear that stinky old thing to the club!" she said, taking it out of her hands to hang it back up.

"It's not stinky! It smells like Robert!" Georgie cried. "And I don't want to wear anything else."

"Here," Betsy said, handing Georgie one of her jackets. "You can wear that old thing any other time you like, but tonight you should wear this. You want to look good when you go to the club with Robbie, don't ya?"

---Now---

After Robert got over the shock of seeing his jacket on her, he looked carefully at the picture. This was the first time he'd seen her since he'd taken her to the airport over a month ago. She was smiling a little, but he could see the sadness and pain in her eyes. She must've taken the picture right before she'd started crying because she looked like was about to. And he couldn't help noticing the dark circles under them against her pale skin. It was obvious she wasn't sleeping well.

She was wearing her long dark brown wavy hair in two loose braids that framed her face and hung down the front of his jacket. He'd never seen her wear her hair like that before. It looked pretty that way, he thought. Behind her was a large body of grey water and a grey sky, but it was difficult to see since the camera had focused mostly on her in the foreground. He looked at the picture for a while, looking in her sad eyes until the pain in his chest became too great and he opened his bookmark for Google Maps to distract himself.

After a while his mum came in, looking surprised when she saw him. "Oh, Robbie. You're up already."

"Yeah," he said getting up to give her a hug and kiss.

"I'll get your breakfast started. Did you shower yet?" she asked, walking to the tea kettle on the counter while he walked behind her to get his laptop.

"No, but it won't take me long, yeah?" he said. He closed the web browser and was horrified. The picture of Georgie was still open on his desktop and he looked up to see his mum looking right at it with wide eyes.

"Is that – Georgie?" she asked with surprise.

"Uh, yeah," he said, and started to shut his laptop but she stopped him and lifted the screen back up. She bent down to look at the picture more closely.

"This – wasn't – taken here, was it? How did you get it?" she asked, standing up to look at him.

"She, uh, sent it to me," he said quietly to the floor, trying to hide the anger he suddenly felt. He was angry at himself, for being so fucking weak he not only hadn't deleted the picture, he'd left it up for his mum to see.

"She's been e-mailing you?" she asked with surprise.

"Uh, yeah – a few times," he said quietly, shrugging his shoulders, trying to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal. She looked back at the picture.

"She looks – sad," his mum said quietly.

"Yeah – I guess."

"She's wearing your jacket."

"I know!" he said more sharply than he'd intended, and snapped the laptop closed.

"What does she say?" she asked, watching him as he picked up his laptop, anxious to escape the kitchen, and her questions.

"She's doing better," he said quietly to the floor, and then he couldn't help adding bitterly, "Now that she's not with me."

"Robbie!" his mum said with shock. "She loves you! She's not doing better because –."

"Mum, stop!" he shouted, trying to keep her from saying more but it was too late, the damage was done. The crushing pain in his chest was worse than ever, and he could feel the dark bleakness settling over him like a heavy blanket.

When he saw the look on his mum's face, he could tell he'd hurt her and guilt burned through him again. He made the effort to push down his feelings, trying to wrestle back control over his emotions. "I'm sorry I raised my voice," he said more quietly. "But please don't, alright? I don't want to talk about it. I can't, alright?"

"Alright," she said quietly with a sigh. "But if you want to –."

"I know, mum," he said quickly, attempting to ward her off.

"I'm here for –."

"I know. I know," he said a little louder.

She turned away, saying quietly, "Well, I guess I'll get your breakfast started," her voice filled with pain.

He set the laptop down and went up to her, saying quietly, "Mum?" She turned around, looking surprised. "I love you, mum," he said gently, as he bent down a little to give her a tight hug. When he released her, she looked up at him with a wobbly smile, and blinked back tears.

"I'll be down soon, yeah?" he said, looking away from her sad eyes.

"Alright, Robbie," she said.

Maybe his mum thought she loved him, he thought bitterly as he walked up the stairs, but if she fucking loved him, she'd be with him right now, wouldn't she? It was all the proof he needed of how determined she was to be rid of him that she'd walked away from him in a crowded airport, got on a plane and flown to Chicago all by herself when she hadn't been able to go anywhere alone for well over a month. And now that she wasn't with him, she was getting better, moving on with her life. It couldn't be any plainer than that, could it?

As soon as he was in his room, he felt desolate, his chest aching unbearably. He was grateful it was time to get ready for work but what was going to happen when he got home that evening? Would he be able to keep from climbing in his bed as soon as he walked in the door? And this was Friday, he had the whole fucking weekend ahead of him, hours of time to kill. He couldn't afford to have another relapse, he thought desperately. He had to do something. He located his mobile and rang Darrell.

"Hey, Robbie. What's up?" he asked sleepily when he answered.

"Are you around this weekend?" Robert asked firmly.

"I – can be. Why?" he said slowly, suddenly no longer sounding sleepy.

"I gotta get the fuck outta here tonight. Fancy doing something?"

****

The picture in the banner is the model I used for the 'face' of Georgie. When I started writing Stolen Hearts, I didn't take Robert or Georgie's looks from anyone in real life, I just imagined them in my head. Writing a detailed description of what they looked like wasn't easy for me so I constantly looked for pictures of people who looked like how I imagined them. That's when I found this model. The moment I saw her, I knew she was Georgie.

Of course she doesn't look exactly how I've described Georgie, her hair is wrong and she has brown eyes not blue, but I love her sweet face. It's just as sweet as I always imagined Georgie's to be. If you're interested in seeing another picture of her,  go to Stolen Hearts Chapter 7. This particular picture inspired me to write about Georgie sending Robert a picture of her wearing his jacket, which was the first time the jacket made an appearance in my story.

I love this chapter because there's SO much going on in it, not only in the current timeline but in the flashbacks as well. Those chapters are always my favorite ones to write, and to share! If you liked this one, do what you can to show me and vote, leave me a comment if you care. I love the feedback.  It makes me a better writer which then makes the story better for all of you!