“I need time for that. I want to see them but not like this.” Megan doesn’t look up at me as she speaks. Instead, she twirls the last bit of her pasta repeatedly around her fork.
“I understand,” I reassure her as I feel the sad thoughts drifting back into her head. I need to try and dispel some of them before I lose her to the darkness of her mind, again. From the training Arthur had me undertake, the one thing I’ve learned is the importance of keeping the people we rescue focused on the positives and not negatives of their situation.
“Have you seen snow?” It’s a random question, but one I hope will work.
“Snow?” She looks up at me with a raised eyebrow. “Of course I’ve seen snow, I’m from Sweden. It’s everywhere in the winter. We’re one of the countries that can actually cope with it, though. Unlike the British, whose country falls apart with just a few flakes.”
“I’ve heard about that. I’ve got a friend from England, and last year he was moaning because his son and daughter were at home for a whole week due to snow closing down their school.” I chuckle, remembering his irate calls because he couldn’t find the time to analyze the data I’d sent him. He was too busy having to build snowmen and go sledging. “I’ve never seen snow. I travel a lot, but I always seem to miss it. We don’t get much here in New Orleans. The last time we had a lot was 2004, and I was out of the country.”
“Are you from New Orleans?”
“Yes, born and breed. You can tell by the southern twang in my accent.”
“I like it. It’s different. I think M had a bit of a similar accent, but it was also mixed with British and something else…I’m not sure what.”
“I’ll let Arthur know. That might help us find him.” Megan nods her approval at me and places her bowl down on the table. She sits back and places her hands over her stomach and rubs it. I suspect from the way her bones are protruding that it must have been the first decent meal she’s had in a long time.
“So is the Cavalieri a family business?” she questions, her eyes shutting with the exhaustion still coiled within her body.
“Not family in the sense you might think of it. Yes, a few of us are related, but we are a family through circumstance and trust. There was a time, recently, when Kay and Evelyn were in trouble. I dropped everything to go and help them out. It’s what we do. I know all my Cavalieri brothers will be doing the same for me in helping to find M.” I didn’t even need to ask them for assistance. They’ve all stepped up and put personal agendas aside because they know I’ve taken up Megan’s protection as my cause. I still can’t rationalize in my head why she is so important to me. I can only surmise it’s my need to protect those around me. I’ve always been the same and am very loyal to my family. I’ve even been known to give assistance to the women I fuck, as well. If they’ve needed a job reference or a little bit of money, I’ve been there offering with no thought of repayment. I may be a cold-hearted bastard looking for my next lay, but I’ll always see them right afterward. Megan is different, though. I have this feeling in my chest, telling me I need to wrap my arms around her to keep her safe and protect her against all odds.
“That sounds like a fabulous thing to have.” Megan’s voice breaks me out of my reflection. “How did you become involved?”
“My father. He’s a complete dick, and that’s putting it politely. He was brutal to my mother, my brothers, and me. Eventually, Arthur managed to get him to leave New Orleans, and we haven’t seen him since. Knowing my uncle, I’m sure my father isn’t alive anymore. I’ve no desire to mourn him. When he left, I needed some money to help support the family. Taking the job with Arthur seemed like the perfect solution. I’d trained in martial arts since I was young but wasn’t a brainiac like my other brothers, so I focused on my strength and fighting abilities, instead.”
“I’m sorry.” Megan’s eyes are open now. She’s looking at me with furrowed brows. “That sounds horrible…I mean about your father. How is your mother now?”
“She’s good. I’m one of those momma’s boys, so I make sure to see her every Sunday after church for lunch. Don’t tell the others I told you that, though. They think I’m off doing target practice.”
Megan laughs. It’s a sound that goes straight to my dick, and I instantly give myself a telling off. She’s one chick who’s off limits to me.
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
Standing up, I grab both of the bowls, and taking them to the kitchen, I load them into the dishwasher.
“Would you like anything else? I think I have some choc-chip cookies here somewhere?” I open up a cupboard and peer inside, finding the tin I know the cookies are in. It’s not something I really eat. I got them for Evelyn when she visits because Kay’s unborn baby seems to have an appetite for them.
“Maybe just one.” Megan appears at the other side of the counter when I shut the cupboard door. Her legs seem to be holding her up a little better with some food in her stomach. “Would it be too much trouble to ask if I could have a hot chocolate as well, if you have any? I…I remember drinking it in the snow and enjoying it.”
“Of course. I think I have some.” I open up the cupboard containing my beverages and find the tin of cocoa. “I’m afraid I don’t have marshmallows, though.”
“Some host you are,” Megan retorts, and then as if remembering she shouldn’t answer back, she goes to apologize. I place a finger over her lips to stop her, and she looks down at it.
“You don’t have to apologize for what you say. You can be open.”
“I’ll try and remember,” she replies.
We both turn our heads toward the front door when it suddenly flings open. My hand is instantly on the gun hidden in the waistband of my track pants, but I stand down when I see Erec march in with the woman we previously met at the bar on his arm.
“Gawain?” Lunete singsongs but freezes when she sees me with Megan.
“What the fuck man?” Erec steps forward with his arms held open wide. Along with my brothers in the Cavalieri, I gave ace in case he needed somewhere to bring a girl back to. I’m regretting that decision now because I know exactly what is on his and Lunete’s minds and continuing our threesome is the furthest thing from mine. “You told me you had a job. I didn’t realize it was another fuck buddy.”
Megan’s breath quickens next to me, and I can feel her legs giving way. I wrap an arm quickly around her waist to support her.
“Megan is a friend. She needed a place to stay for a while, so I’m helping her out.”
Lunete glides across my marbled floors toward me with a pout on her lips. Gone is the demure woman we picked up the other evening. The sex kitten has been released, and it wants to play.
“Would your friend mind us borrowing you for a while? We’ve unfinished business,” Lunete asks as she runs a hand down my chest, but I feel nothing other than repulsion. Tilting my neck to the side and cracking it, I allow the monster persona I portray during a job to come out. Grabbing Lunete’s hand as it lowers to my dick, I pull her back across the room.
“Not happening,” I mouth to Erec who knows me better than to argue when I’ve got that fire burning behind my eyes. “Out.” I tell them both.
“But, Gawain.” Lunete tries to protest. I look at Erec, and he knows he’s got less than five seconds to get the fuck out of my house before I explode.
“I’ll call you,” Erec says as he takes Lunete’s hand from mine and drags the protesting woman out of the house. I slam the door behind them and pull a panel out from a cupboard near the door. I tap a few buttons, banning Erec and my Cavalieri brothers from automatic admittance to the house. I close it and turn around to face Megan. She’s as white as a sheet, and her eyes are filled with pools of tears.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know they were coming. I’ve stopped him and everyone else from having any further access to the house.”
“It’s o-ok,” she stutters and looks down at the floor, her feet shuffling as fast as they can toward the stairs an
d back to her room. I can’t let her escape. I won’t let my playboy ways destroy the little bit of confidence that was starting to come back to her.
“Megan.” I reach out to grab her arm but stop when she freezes and stares with fear in her eyes at my hand. “I won’t hurt you.”
“It’s not that.” She wraps her arms around her middle to protect herself. I can see she’s shaking. “What they wanted is perfectly natural. It was consensual. What happened to me wasn’t. I don’t know if I’ll ever be what is termed ‘normal’ again or be able to enjoy…” She pauses, and I know the word on the tip of her tongue is giving her too much pain to say. “..Sex.” It finally comes out, and she shudders with revulsion. “I’m broken for all men because I only see them as monsters.”
I take a step closer to her, and she allows me to comfort her this time.
“It won’t always be that way. You have a lot to work through. You’ve only been free for a short while. Give it time…your body and mind both need to heal.”
“But what if he comes back for me?”
“He won’t. I’ll protect you.”
I don’t know why but an overwhelming urge hits me to seal my declaration with a kiss to the top of her head. I lean forward, and at the last minute, Megan moves and tilts her head up. Our lips meet it’s brief, but it sends a bolt of desire through me I’ve never felt before. Megan pulls away, shock registering on her face.
“Go and sleep. You’re exhausted, and I’m not much better. It’s been a long day. Tomorrow, we start the healing process together…side by side. I’m not a saint, but you have my word I’ll do all I can to help you.”
She nods and makes her way up the stairs. At the top, she turns back to look down at me, her fingers pressed to her lips. That ache in my chest increases, and I wonder if I’m wandering down a path that could destroy us both.
Megan
It’s been three weeks since Gawain rescued me, and I’m still living at his house in constant fear of M finding me. I’ve managed to avoid contacting my parents. I don’t want them involved until I know I’m a hundred percent safe. I can’t live this way forever, though. This is my fifth counseling session, and I’m finding them very helpful. I’m still terrified about leaving the house, but Gawain is always with me, and I feel safe in his company. I’ve put a little bit of weight back on, but I’m still finding it hard to wear clothes. They’re uncomfortable. I tend to wear a lot of joggers and t-shirts because they aren’t so tight. I’ve not yet been able to wear a bra as it’s too constricting around my ribs. Most of the bruising to my skin has vanished, and the wounds are healing. My arm is still bent, but the doctor has me scheduled for surgery in two weeks to fix it. I’m recovering. I think that’s the word I need to use to describe myself. It’s slow, and the nightmares are the worst. The fear of being taken again still limits what I’m willing to do, but Gawain is patient with me. I get the feeling from him that he’s a man who likes to be kept busy. Babysitting me twenty-four seven is a little boring, but he often invites the partners of the other members of his organization to come around and sit with me, so he can escape for a few hours. I don’t ask where he goes. I don’t want to know.
My counselor, a short middle-aged woman named Daphne, pushes her thick-rimmed, black glasses down the tip of her nose and asks, “Did you try some of the breathing exercises we discussed for the anxiety?”
“I did. They helped a lot, thank you.”
We’ve just been through a very heavy session of counseling, which involved a discussion about what happened to me. It’s the first time I’ve really been able to open up. I’m exhausted and could sleep for a week, but I feel lighter. She’s not repulsed by some of the things I’ve done. All she wants to do is help me understand that none of it was my fault, and I can have a life again. I’m still really jumpy, and there have been times when Gawain has shouted at something, and I’ve thrown myself to my knees before him, trying to placate his temper as I would have done for M. I have to learn to be my own person again and not a slave. It’s almost an impossible task, but a battle I’m determined to win.
“I’d like you to try them again this week, and also, I think it might be good to start keeping a diary of your thoughts. It doesn’t have to be anything spectacular, just write them down in a cheap notebook. The point is recording your thoughts as they happen. It will help you center them and work through the emotions they cause you.”
“I’ll ask Gawain to get me a notebook…” I hesitate, knowing the man in question is outside the door. His lips accidentally meeting mine has been on my mind since it happened. I was shocked at first. It scared me to have a man that close to me again, even for the briefest of moments, but afterward when I sat in my room with my fingers still resting on my lips, it became clear to me that I’d liked it. “Do you think I’ll be able to enjoy physical love again?”
My counselor tilts her head and smiles back warmly. “Please don’t worry about it. I can’t say yes for certain, but you’re a lot stronger as a person than you give yourself credit for. It’ll take time, and you must let yourself heal, but I don’t see why you can’t be capable of love of all kinds again.”
“But I hate all men,” I reply just as the alarm to end our sessions sounds. Gawain must hear it because he instantly opens the door and comes into the room before my counselor can answer.
“Everything ok?” He helps me to my feet, and I allow him.
“Yes. Just a bit tired.”
“Thank you.” He nods to the counselor and holds his arm out for me to take. I turn back to my counselor, and she has the biggest smile on her face.
“Do you really hate all men?” she mouths at me, and I take Gawain’s arm and allow him to lead me from the room. I’m full of confusion at her silent words, but I’m sure they’ll fall into place and make sense soon.
“I was thinking it’s a nice day, and I wondered if you’d like to ride back to the house on my bike? I had Bors bring it down and wait around, so he can either take the truck or the bike depending on what you decide. We could go via the coast and have a picnic on the beach?” We emerge into the daylight from the counselor’s office. The warmth of the summer sun hits my skin, and I feel excited to spend time outside.
“I’d like that. Will we be safe?”
“I’ve asked for Bors to stay with us just in case you decide you don’t like the bike. He’s in between jobs, at the moment, so he has time. He can keep a look out for any trouble. I want you to feel relaxed.”
“Thank you.”
Gawain leads me over to his bike, and Bors hands me a helmet.
“Just make sure he sticks to the speed limits. If he gets another speeding ticket, Arthur is likely to kick his ass,” the giant of a man with a full beard, teases.
Gawain straddles the bike, and Bors helps me onto the back of it. I wrap my hands around Gawain’s waist and hold tightly. I’ve never been on a bike before, and he gives me instructions via microphones built into our helmets. Eventually, he turns the engine on, and with a loud roar, we speed out into the New Orleans’s traffic.
“Oh my god,” I scream as we weave through the traffic and down toward the sea.
“Is that good or bad?” Gawain asks.
“Good. This is amazing,” I shout back. We reach the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway, and Gawain twists the throttle harder. He’s breaking the speed limit, and he’s likely to get into trouble, but I don’t care. This is the single most exhilarating moment of my life. I thrust my head back and allow the wind to blow over my face. The roar of the engine mixed with the sense of freedom make me feel like I’m flying.
Eventually, we slow, and Gawain pulls into a secluded picnic spot. Bors parks up behind us and hands over a basket before he disappears back into the truck, and heavy metal music blares out so loudly I wonder if he’s deaf.
The clearing we’ve found is empty of anyone else. It’s just Gawain and me. I follow him to a table, and he starts to lay out the food that was contained in the basket. I stand u
p to help, but he orders me to sit back down.
“I can help, you know.”
He waves his hand at me.
“You might put the food in the wrong place.”
“Er…OCD much.” I lean back and raise an eyebrow at him.
“Not really. Evelyn told me how I need to lay this meal out for you, and you can bet your bottom dollar, Bors will be taking pictures of how I do it to send to Kay.”
I can’t help but laugh at his comment. Although I haven’t met all of them, yet, over the last few weeks, I’ve learned about the great friendship between the twelve men who make up this group called the Cavalieri. Arthur, their leader, also remains elusive, but I’ve spoken to him once on the phone.
Sneakily, I reach out and move the jar of mayonnaise Gawain has placed on the table. He takes a bottle of hot sauce out of the basket and goes to place it directly where the mayonnaise now is. He growls.
“You moved it.”
I look innocently up to the sky.
“Who me?”
“You’ll pay for that.” Gawain comes around the table, but I instantly freeze and lower to my knees before him. I can’t stop myself from doing it. I was the one who started this, but my brain has flipped from playful one minute to terrified the next.
“I’m sorry.” I bow down low.
“Megan, it’s ok. I wasn’t going to hurt you.”
Gawain comes down to his knees before me. He places his hand under my chin and lifts my head up so our eyes can meet.
“I was going to tickle you? I’m sorry.”
I take a few moments and do the breathing exercises the counselor showed me. I’m struggling to calm myself, though, because I’m getting angrier ever second. I don’t want to be this way. I was playing a game and having fun, then the next thing I know, I’m on my knees waiting to be punished. I’m a broken rag doll to a man’s whim.
Redemption: Cavalieri Della Morte Page 5