“He was the last.”
Fuck. That got a few more tears to break the line. No wonder he wanted to find his sister. He may never even be successful, making him the last of his family just like I was with mine. “So we both lost everything that night. The final pieces.”
I continued to stare at the sea and he continued to stare at me. “Not everything,” he said softly. He shifted, his hands coming up to pull me into him. And I let him. Let myself press against his warm, bare chest. Let him try to hug away all the pain, all the guilt, all the demons that just wouldn’t untether their tendrils from my soul as they tried to suck it dry.
For once I’d like to feel something other than despair or guilt. For once I’d like to be the person who could just let go.
Just let go…
I pressed my forehead into his neck, breathing in the beachy scent that seemed to cling to his skin. The arms around me were firm, but his fingertips were gentle and caring as they randomly moved around my back, nothing but a thin sliver of satin between his brush strokes.
Part of me really wanted to let go.
Was it right to be in his arms? No. Even I knew that. But in a world where everyone judged everyone else, I found myself not caring for once. For once I just wanted to let go for no other reason than to take a break. From expectation. From shame. For once I wasn’t finding it difficult to fall into the moment, to allow myself to be distracted, if even for one long moment.
I opened my eyes. My index finger traced a random pattern around the thin scars he now had scattered about his chest – courtesy of Friggs – then downward to hook on the band of his cotton pants. My head slowly angled upward, my nose lightly brushing against him. His fingers stopped when I dragged my lips gently across his skin. I opened and closed them slowly, completing one full kiss on his neck.
Both of us froze in the moment, so much our chests didn’t lift to breathe. For once the echoing emptiness inside me wasn’t deafening. For once it felt more neutral, undisturbed.
Just let go…
I twisted my body forward within his grasp, sweeping my hands around his hips as my neck kept expanding upward. My lips moved to knead along his jawline, which he tipped to allow better access. My kisses became firmer, more eager. His hands stroked up and down my back, still letting me drive the moment. My own hands became more willing, more active as they swept up his back, around and over his chest and back down to his waistband again.
I had to admit, I felt a little nervous. I’d been with him sexually too many times to count, but never like this. I was vulnerable in a way I’d never allowed myself to be before. I was being open. Honest. Willing.
My hands slid their way around his neck as my lips reached out to kiss his. He greeted them softly, keeping pace with the moment. His lips were so warm, so comforting, and I began to press harder as our tongues became entwined. His hands lifted my chemise with each upward stroke, and once they made contact with the skin underneath, a fine shiver erupted in his wake. He stayed beneath the satin, focusing his attention on the curves of my hips and butt, lifting me up in a way that had me wanting to climb him right there.
I felt him through his pants, held him tight as he expanded. Our kisses intensified, and I leaned into him until he backed himself into the chaise, pulling down his pants as we went. Kicking them off using just his feet, I lightly pushed him down by the shoulders. We hooked fingertips, and I stood there for a moment looking down at him, his eyes a surprising shade of blue-green. There was a real softness to the hard lines of his square jaw and a tenderness to his expression. I led his hands to the satin underwear beneath the slip and encouraged him to pull them down for me. Then I followed him as he swept his left leg over the chair and pushed himself to settle against the back.
Our heads were incredibly close. We stared into each other’s eyes before letting our mouths make contact again. His kisses were amazing. Loving and firm, but not demanding. Seemed he desired to go as slow as I did tonight.
We kept it slow and steady for a while, allowing our hands to gently tease, our mouths continuing to stoke the fire. At some point our hips got in on the action. It didn’t hit me until I realized how hot my core had grown, beginning to ache with need, that Zander was incredibly stiff beneath me. When his finger hooked inside me, I was so wet it slid in easily. I let him play for a minute but I matched him stroke for stroke, bringing his dick closer and closer. My insides were tingling and aching long before I slid down on him, taking all of him in, both of us taking that moment to moan against each other’s lips.
We’d never done this so slowly before. Every step, every kiss, every caress…it was all so intimate. His hands were delicate, his kisses affectionate, especially those he applied to my burns. I could actually feel how much he wanted this.
Soon we were rocking as one, breathing in concert with our own special rhythm. For once I indulged in the way I ached and tingled and moaned. For once I didn’t mind that he was the one making me feel this way. And for once I didn’t fight the moment, letting go of all my inhibitions. His gaze grew with desire, his want intensifying. Surprisingly, the fiery gold of his hazel eyes I was most familiar with was severely lacking. He wanted me, yes, but tonight it was in a different way, which he didn’t stray from even once, leaving that dominating version of himself tucked away for another day. Once we were exhausted but sated, he held me tighter than normal. And just before we drifted off to sleep, I swear I could hear the softest of words on his last waking breath. I love you.
I was up before the sunrise, already pulling clothing and packing it into a duffel. I wasn’t trying to be sneaky or quiet, but my body felt so lifeless it hardly made sound.
“Leaving already?” Zander asked from the closet doorway, his voice smooth and quiet.
I tucked the shirts into the bag before pausing. With my back still turned, I mutely sighed. “I should hate you,” I told him. “With every fiber of my being, I should hate you. Possibly want you dead. If you hadn’t been in battle with your brother over Natalia, Charles never would have gone looking for a girl who looked like her. I never would’ve been stolen, or brainwashed. I never would’ve killed your brother and you never would’ve sought your revenge by taking me yourself. I never would’ve crossed paths with Friggs, who never would’ve stolen Thea, never would’ve had his son torture my parents to death and then kill my sister right in front of me.
“I can still see her face, you know? The confusion in her eyes, the way she put her body in front of Finn to protect him from me, just to have her neck snapped from behind. I can’t go an hour without seeing it.
“For all that, I should hate you.”
I turned and sat on the upholstered bench next to my bag. Zander was still in the doorway. His eyes lazily looked off into the corner, zero expression left on his face. He seemed lost in miserable thought, but I’d still bet he was absorbing my every word.
“I wasn’t lying when I told you I was seriously fucked up these days. I’m not processing things right. I’m numb. I’m not affected by anything anymore. Just like when Finn was lying dead on the bed or seeing the murderous torture mobile he drove around in. Those sights should’ve upset me. A normal person would’ve felt a sense of horror in those moments. But I didn’t.
“I’m not saying that I want to become the kind of person who hates you for everything that’s happened, but please don’t ask me to stay here and try to love you.” His listless gaze suddenly tilted my way. “I don’t know much right now, but I do know asking that of myself, would cause irrevocable damage to my soul.”
I turned my attention back to my duffel, putting the last of the pulled items inside it. “And yes, I am leaving already. I know this sounds cliché, but I need to go out and find myself. I need to find a way to cut through this permanent fog inside my head. I need to find…me. I’m not sure how I’m going to do it or how long it’ll take, but I need to start already.”
I zipped my bag closed, draped the strap over my shoulder and stood up
. It took a moment, but Zander finally came back to life, beginning with nodding his head. “I have something for you,” he said quietly, “before you go.”
Once he abandoned the doorway, I moved to leave, getting all the way to the front door before he reappeared, a large turquoise wallet in hand. Curiously, I accepted it without question but didn’t go through it. “I was going to give that to you today. It’s new identification, travel papers and the keys to the Mercedes. You’ll find it waiting for you at long term parking at the Missoula Airport. The title has already been changed to your name.”
My forehead softly crinkled. “You knew I’d leave.”
“What I want and what I expect will happen are two very different things. You know me – I always have some type of contingency worked out. Besides, there’s still the hope you’ll come back one day.”
His hand lifted up to caress my cheek, and his thumb gently stroked back and forth while I quietly accepted it. “I’m not really sure what’s appropriate to say right now,” he admitted honestly.
“Do we have to say anything?” I whispered.
His hazel eyes were incredibly gentle this morning, that fiery gold I knew to be devilish the thinnest of bands. They gazed for a long moment before looking down at my lips. When his face began to move closer, I slowly tilted my head at an angle. “Don’t,” I plead. I gave him the softest of smiles to calm his confusion. “Let last night be our last kiss. I meant every one of those. But right now I’m not sure that I could.”
His hand slid down my face, but didn’t depart until his thumb had the chance to stroke my bottom lip a few times. “Till we meet again, Mia Kratovski.”
Zander called me a cab and took care of the bill in advance. I hadn’t even thought of that. Or how to get out of the country before he gave me a passport. Honestly, I hadn’t thought about any of the logistics when I woke up this morning. I just knew I needed to go.
I didn’t go home – and by that I meant the states in general. I didn’t really have a home anymore. The one I grew up in was sold. Lord only knew where my parents’ RV was now. Probably marked as a crime scene somewhere.
I didn’t want to go home anyway.
When I got to the airport, I just stared at the long list of travel destinations, waiting for something to speak to me. I only considered major tourist destinations – no third world countries, no matter how beautiful. I was already traveling alone, so no way in hell was I putting myself in any situation that would get me abducted by a whole new breed of asshole.
I wasn’t particularly excited about anything I was seeing. Paris? The city of Love? I thought not. But I wanted a major city where I understood the language, so I chose London.
On the cab ride over, I had searched through the wallet Zander put in my purse. There was an Oregon ID, passport and black credit card all in the name of Mia Kaye Kratovski. I wasn’t sure what the spending limit on the card was, but I figured if it could cover a trip back home, it could cover one to England.
I passed my card to the attendant scheduling my flight and she lifted her eyebrows for a moment. “What?” I asked curiously. It was just a credit card. No way she could know the name wasn’t real.
“Sorry,” she apologized, “I’ve just never seen a Centurion card in person before.”
I truly had no idea what she was talking about. A credit card was just a credit card, right? I just smiled and shrugged lightly, saying, “Very last minute trip, so I didn’t bother trying to find a flight online.”
I didn’t have too long of a wait for my flight, but when I approached the gate to board, I was surprised that I had already been upgraded to a first class seat. I wasn’t sure if Zander had anything to do with it, but once I caught a gist of what I was in for, I wasn’t complaining.
It was a fifteen hour flight, and miraculously, I slept most of the way. Still, after what that attendant had told me and the free upgrade I was given, curiosity got the best of me. After landing at Heathrow Airport and making my way through customs, I found an internet café and looked up exactly what the hell kind of credit card Zander gave me. It was only then I discovered I held a card with no spending limit, perks up the wazoo, and that it cost Zander a ridiculous amount of money just to put my name on it. I was almost afraid to touch it now. Guess you could say I was relieved though. I hadn’t really thought about it initially, but now I wouldn’t have to worry about finding money to cover food and hotels. Still, I spent modestly. I honestly wouldn’t feel comfortable living a life I didn’t know.
I spent almost a week walking around London, then rented a car to drive through the country. I felt more at home doing that, always on the move from the safety of my vehicle. I then spent several days each in Dublin and Belfast. I even got brave and traveled inland to Paris, then took one of those river cruises along the Elbe River from Berlin to Prague. But no matter what I did or where I went, I felt empty inside. I felt lost. The world’s beauty was lost on me. I hardly spoke to anyone who wasn’t waiting on me in some kind of way, and barely smiled even when others did so first. I still had trouble sleeping and wished that for once, I’d at least be able to cry myself to sleep. Just to feel something. Because I felt nothing. And I understood why – after everything I’d been through – I just didn’t know how to go about fixing it.
I thought maybe time was all I needed, but after two months of losing myself in the world, it just wasn’t happening. And watching endless amounts of people around me smile and laugh merrily into the night only made it more painful. Turned out all I was doing was hollowing myself out even more. And if I couldn’t appreciate the remarkable beauty of the coast of Italy, then I might as well go back to the states.
When I touched down in Missoula, it had been two months, three days since I last left. I had no plan, still no idea what to do with myself – on a temporary or long term basis. I figured I’d just have to take it day by day, and today meant finding the car Zander left behind and then simply choosing a direction to drive in.
The car was right where the note attached to the key said it would be. As I popped the trunk to throw my duffel in, I took a moment to pause. A large rolling luggage case was resting there. Upon further inspection, it was mostly filled with clothing for me, a cell phone and a laptop.
“Great,” I mumbled to myself, coming to the stark realization before me. “What’s this give him? Five more ways to track me?”
I tossed the duffel in, paid the ridiculous fee to get the Mercedes out of long-term parking, then blindingly drove off into the night. I returned to my previous way of travel. Random driving. Cheap hotels that didn’t ask for identification. Diners without cameras. None of the people working in those establishments even knew my credit card was special. I continued to slip under everyone’s radar. But like before, I wasn’t getting any better. I wasn’t sure what could help me at this point, but continuing this lifestyle wouldn’t do me any favors long term.
Maybe I did need to talk to someone. I wasn’t particularly fond of shrinks, but maybe that was because I hadn’t talked to the right one yet. Maybe I could find one who had dealt with others like me. And that got me thinking…others like me. I wasn’t the only one out there to break free of slavery. Somewhere out there were girls like me, suffering all the same. Someone out there had to be helping girls like us. Right?
For the first time since I got back to the states, I opened up the laptop Zander left me. He had switched out his for this new one, and I was able to bypass all the security with passwords he’d pre-chosen for me. I scoured the internet, researching sex trafficking in general. What I found made me sick. So much I actually ran to the toilet to puke once, the graphic images all too real for me. Eventually I came across organizations who helped people like me. One even had a location in Seattle, so I activated the GPS in the Mercedes and headed back to my home town.
I felt a little different on the drive over. Like for once I had a purpose. I could almost feel my lips trying to curl upward, like muscle memory kicking in for a
long forgotten motion. I made it there in less than two days, and though it was late in the afternoon, anticipation and eagerness got me to go straight there.
When I stepped inside, the quaint lobby was warm and intimate, but completely empty except for the girl behind reception. Feeling mildly awkward, I meekly asked, “Hi. Um, do you have someone I can talk to?”
Looking at me with confusion, she answered, “Maybe. It’ll depend on what you’re needing to talk about.”
“Slavery. About being one. I mean, what kind of services do you offer for people like me?”
God, I think I was flushing from embarrassment. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, her eyes popping with recognition. “Well, we don’t really have services. We mainly help with people in that situation get rescued.”
“Okay, what about once they’re out? Are there any organizations out there who help them once they’re free?”
“Well, no, I don’t think so. I don’t know. I guess we’ve always just helped them get back home and let their families take over from there.”
“Not all of us have a family to go home to,” I replied dismally.
“Right,” she agreed softly. She bit her lip as she looked away to think. Soon her finger went up. “Could you give me a moment? I’m going to try to find someone who’s been here longer and might know something more helpful for you.”
“Sure,” I said a little lifelessly, doubting it would make a difference.
“Oh, what’s your name?”
I stopped myself before using my new name. “Claire.”
“Okay,” she replied with a gentle smile. “Be right back.”
The young woman disappeared into the back. I circled the room slowly, disappointed I had even come. It took a lot for me to put myself out there and label myself as a victim, and in this case, it didn’t really seem to pay off. Maybe I really was just going to have to figure this out on my own.
NEARLY Trilogy Page 81