Undo me.
Remembrances of the man that questioned my abuse flood my brain as I hear him annunciate c-u-n-t perfectly. I pray to the heavens above, if they even fucking exist, that he is here. Something in my heart tells me he is. Dr. Bajek removes the cloth restraints from both my wrists, taking a second to massage both sides and check my pulses. I look at my skin and I am grateful that no marks are there. Again, tenderness is shown to me. Compassion that I am certain I do not deserve because I wasn’t born for it. She gives me a sponge bath, taking precaution to clean me between my legs. The pain medication has lessened the sensitivity and I take note that I feel the warm, wetness of the wash cloth between my legs and relief overtakes my already battered mind. But why? Again, it makes no sense. Sex has never been enjoyable for me, with the exception of Juan as he ate my fucked up pussy while I watched the man in the doorway. Then, my dream flashes before my eyes of an olive skinned man, sucking on my breast and speaking in the most delectable Spanish accent. Normal girls don’t think like this. Not at all.
I shake my head at myself. After Dr. Bajek dresses me in a fresh gown, my heart rate increases. Minutes closer to seeing the person that wants to see me. Who could it be? Him? Maybe he wants to keep me as his. I could only wish.
“Svetlana, we need to talk first.”
My eyes meet hers and the safety that I don’t want to embrace pulls me in, wrapping me in with utter gentleness. I hate feeling. I want to hang my head and cry. Being fed to the wolves was better than this. This is too fucking much. I drop my eyes because that is what submissive, undeserving girls like me do, but her easy hand makes its way to my chin, bringing it back up to meet her gaze.
“You safe. You not be in any harm anymore. You different than the rest. Caesar protect you.”
I nod my head yes, wishing for answers for the millions of questions rushing through my head at full force. His name swirls about in my mind in the most delicious way. Caesar. I open my mouth as courage almost finds me, but close it. I offer her another nod as I clasp my hands anxiously in my lap. Dr. Bajek pulls the sheet and comforter up to my chest and places a swift kiss on my forehead. I want to push her away, but I remain still like the conditioned girl that I am.
“I go get boss man.”
It’s him. It has to be him. My heart knows.
Undo me.
***
I feel my pulse beating rapidly in my neck. I’ve never wanted to disappear more before. The feeling of not being enough overtakes me. Expectations are the root of all evil. I never meet them. I am sure he has a list a mile long, most of which I will not be able to meet. Millions of things buzz around my brain as I start sweating, staring at the lights that make me nervous. The sound of the humming lights makes my head ache and I have the urge to flee. But if I run, I will die. Isn’t that what I wanted before now? Death is what we are all born for. After birth, we start preparing for death.
I hear the clinks of heavy boots echoing in the distance.
Undo me. Make me feel. Bring me to safety and love me like no one has before.
A faint whimper erupts from my lips. I cover my mouth with my hand, not able to control my body while pain still lingers. This is a first. I have always been able to withhold the urge to make noises and control what my body does and doesn’t do, but that control is leaving me with each passing second. I hear him grumble as his footsteps pound harder on the concrete floor.
Mr. Dark and Dangerous makes his way over to me and my lips part. I can’t gather appropriate thoughts as I drink every part of him in. He is ruggedly handsome and makes me feel alive and safe without reason. His coal black hair has speckles of grey in it, messy to perfection and sweat mists his tanned face. Stubble covers his chin and I want to reach out and touch it to pull him into me, but I relent as my eyes continue to fixate on every part of him. I am enamored, stuck, and already addicted.
He takes his bottom lip between his teeth and I sigh out loud, panting like a crazed woman who is in heat. He turns his head pensively, flaring his nostrils and clenching his large hands at his sides. He furrows his brows and I want to cower and shield myself for what I am certain I deserve, but selfishness invades my being. I am transforming into someone else. Maybe death did find me. Maybe part of the old me did perish while a new part of me was birthed.
Like me, his lips move to speak, but no words come out. Something tells me if he wanted to hurt me, he would have already done it. I decide that I need to know why I was whisked away by him. I have to know who he is. Caesar, the man who swooped in and saved me.
My shaky, nervous hands peel the sheet away from my body. His stance is intimidating, but I am not scared. This is a first for me. Feeling safe, even I don’t understand what it means. I am unharmed as long as I am near him. Something in my bones screams that to me, washing the dysfunction from all my yesterdays away. He’s too far away from me. I need him nearer. I need to know that he is real.
I swing my legs over to the side of the bed and plant them onto the cold ground. The chilly floors send a shock of cold through my body and I welcome it, as it reminds me that I am alive before a man that I have wanted since I first saw him. I push the aching from my body out of my mind, appreciating the pain medicine from Dr. Bajek, and I push myself up and I can feel him watching me closely, not in a prey-like manner, but in a way that says he would catch me if I fell. As soon as I stand up, my head gets dizzy. I scream to myself in my head to be strong. I have been through enough, I can deal with this. Walking is a piece of cake in comparison to everything else that I have been through.
I turn on wobbly heels as our stares meet. His eyes seem like they were meant for me. Coldness gone and replaced with warmth. Hatred absent and traded for decency. Loathing gone and swapped for kindness. All emotions that I am not used to. I find myself willing to do whatever I can to get them. I close my eyes and allow myself to do the one thing that I have dreamt of.
Smile.
I smile for many reasons; life, death, rebirth, and a man before me who has changed me without words. Something inside of me is meant for him. I am his and he is mine. I open my stare to look at him through lust drunk eyes. His hard look is changed. He seems tortured. From what, I’m not sure. My belly turns in chaos as I search for truths in his eyes.
Courage. I have come this far. I can’t remain torn. I need to know who this man is and why he saved me. I feel a chill run over my bare shoulder as the gown drops from my body, exposing part of my breast. He growls. Growls like a fucking dog. I want him to pounce on me. I wish he would claim me and make me his.
“Who are you?” I whisper.
He charges over to me, letting go of whatever it was that was holding him back. An explosion of need erupts thickly in the air. My nails dig into the palms of my hands, making me aware that this is not a dream. This is real, so real. His strides turn into slow motion as I sing silent hallelujahs to God above. Years of isolation are forgotten as the broken, impoverished girl becomes addicted to the man who redeemed her from the fires of hell on earth.
His rough, calloused hands cup my cheeks and it takes everything that I have not to melt into a puddle of nothing.
“Hello, little one,” his deep voice says.
His eyes stay dark, so dark, like there is a storm brewing behind them. My heart is nearing its teeming point as every sensation I thought I lost in the fire is magnified by a million. I am definitely not dead. I am very much alive.
“Undo me. Please. Save me,” my thoughts betray me as they roll off my tongue.
I want to find a corner, crawl into a ball, and hang my head in shame. A wicked grin splays on his face, but I sense something holding him back.
“I have waited for you for a long time, mi amor. Hello is all I can say right now.”
Confusion thunders through my chest as letdown settles in my gut. He leans his delectable lips to my forehead while I wish he was kissing other parts of me, all of me for that matter. Though his hands are rough, his lips are soft. As soon as I f
elt comforted by someone, I will soon be left again as my cheeks feel cold from the absence of his touch.
“Are you not even going to say goodbye?” I murmur, fidgeting with my nervous hands.
“Oh, mi amor, you have no idea. Goodbyes are all that I have said.”
I watch him walk towards the door as my heart shatters with letdown. I was rejected. No answers were provided while I played the role of desperate whore once again. Perhaps reclamation isn’t in the cards for me. I will forever be branded and unwanted. I am Svetlana, alone, damaged, and already addicted to a man that I don’t know.
Hello, crazy.
Goodbye, redemption.
Caesar
Whisper to me and I will scream at your soul.
Why did she speak? Why did she whisper? Why can’t I stop it? Why can’t I be normal? Why can’t they all just be quiet? I cannot feel like that when she talks to me it is wrong, but I cannot stop it either. I hate it, I hate the noise, I hate voices and I fucking loathe whispers. Whispers do bad things to me. They don’t soothe me, they enrage me. This has to be the worst idea I have ever had. I cannot stay, I have to walk away. I don’t want her to see what her voice does to me, it would be wrong. I turn and walk away. She is too much for me right now, why is she so beautiful?
***
One week. she has been here a week in that small recovery room. She has refused to come out yet and I don’t blame her. Her eyes scream fear, she is terrified of what is outside the room. Today is a big day, we have three harvests and I need her out of there. I don’t think she is ready to see that - yet. I need to convince her to move upstairs, where Juan and Mateo actually did a decent job of making the hole into a room. It’s even has a girly touch, which I am sure was Juan. The gnat has proved himself to be at least a little useful, today we are going to take his kidney so he will be on bed rest for a few weeks. He chose the hole next door to hers, and has made it home. I am not entirely happy about people living here. I will just spend more time at home. I have three goodbyes today, then three beds to fill so I cannot be distracted by this. It is time for her to move.
I watch her through the small pane of glass as she stares at the ceiling, unblinking and completely still. Some of the bruises and wounds are healing and she isn’t as pale. She is clean, and her dark hair is combed neatly. I don’t wait any longer; I open the door and she sits bolt upright on the bed and her teary eyes look at mine, full of unanswered questions. “It’s time to move upstairs, mi amor, I need this space.” Her hands grip the bed sheets so tightly that her knuckles turn white and her lip begins to quiver with threatening tears. “You can get up and come with me, or I can pick you up and take you?” I look at her again, and see that she is afraid of me. No, not me, but afraid of what is outside the door. “Come.” I hold out a hand for her to take, and she does. Her soft fingers hold onto mine, they are like a ghost’s touch, not holding on at all. I push the door open so we can leave. There is only one way out and it is through all those that wait. The numbers. I hear her gasp as she takes in the two rows of beds, beeping monitors and still bodies. “Don’t look at them, okay? And don’t worry, you are safe now.” I look at her as she drags behind me, “So are they, mi amor. I saved them.” Her body starts to shake with the sobs she wants to hold in and I lift her up and carry her through the room and into the passage. When I put her down again, she is unsteady and stumbles a little.
“Why not me?” she asks. “Why you didn’t save me? Am I to be your whore now too?” her voice combined with her words makes my blood hot and my mind begins to shatter.
“I have saved you, and mi amor, I don’t want a whore.” She stops talking and looks down at the floor as she follows me, her legs running to keep up with me. We get in the lift and I watch as her silent tears drip on the floor. I don’t do anything, I am too afraid she will speak again. Fuck, this is so fucking hard!
“What you do with them?” That voice. Make it stop.
“I sell spare parts, little one. I give them peace to save many others who would die otherwise.” I watch her contemplate what I have said.
“You are good then?” She couldn’t be more wrong, I am far from good. I like to think I am not evil, but it’s a lie I tell myself to live each day.
“No, I am not good.” I answer her as the doors open on Mateo’s floor. I wait for her to step out and follow me to her cell or room whatever you want to call it. It is looking a little better than it was before. I open the gate that should be a door for her. She looks around in amazement at the small space that the boys have made for her. “This is your room, there are showers at the end of the row, they are cold ones but I will get Mateo to fix it.” She seems too shocked to respond.
“You want me to stay, but you don’t want me?” A shudder of rejection is in her soft voice. The voice that is killing me right now.
“I always wanted you, mi amor. I have work to do today. Stay here and Juan or Mateo will come bring you food later.” I turn and walk away before my body is exposed to more. I cannot listen to her talking any longer. I really do have work to do. I go back down to where the doctors are getting ready to work all day and night. It’s better to do it like this all at once sometimes. I wait while they get the first donor ready, and when they place the clipboard on her feet and leave to go to the scrub room, I lift the brake and start to push the gurney. She has golden blonde hair and freckles on her nose; how is it that no one will miss her? I hold her hand in mine as we get a little closer to the electronic doors. I push her away and whisper softly in her ear. “Goodbye now.” And then all too quickly, she is gone.
I wait with Mateo and Juan as the coolers are filled one by one and the parts of the whole are split up and sent all over. There is a small aircraft waiting outside of town to take this heart out of state to a friend who had a customer in need. I don’t want mistakes today, I need things to return to normal. I need silence. These are long days, and today we have three harvests and Juan’s kidney going out. I treat him as I would any other number going in those doors, he is the last for today. I walk with him, after all it is me who chose him. “Caesar, if I die it’s okay. You saved me anyway,” he says as the doors shut. Stupid words, stupid fucking voices. I shake my head and go to wait for his kidney. By the time we are done and he is in recovery, it is three in the morning. My feet ache and my head is pounding. I need a smoke so badly that my hands are shaking like I have Parkinson’s. When I eventually collapse in the office, I smoke ten in a row. Mateo comes in looking as tired and ragged as I feel. “We had a good day, old man. I know you hate noise and talking and voices. But I need to know about her. Why is she here, Caesar?” I look at him. He is concerned for me; the boy understands my misophonia and he does try to help.
“She is here because she belongs to me, boy. Just let this be. You be nice to her. That’s all, just be nice to her. No one has ever been good to her.” I talk quietly because I am too exhausted to yell at him.
“Did the Russian really set her cunt on fire?” he asks with concern, not morbid interest as he would normally.
“He did, but the doctors say it will heal with time. I don’t think her mind will get better, though. You and I both know that when your head is fucked up it cannot be fixed.”
He smiles and nods, we don’t discuss it, ever. But I know my nephew’s secrets. I had to console my useless fucking sisters when Ophelia was found dead and raped. I had to take him in so he wouldn’t do it again. You can’t fix crazy; you can’t even medicate it most times. “Go to bed, Mateo. I am going to check on her and then leave. I need quiet, and tomorrow I must replace those three.” I stand up, a little less shaky now.
“I have paperwork to do first,” he sits at the desk. “Night, Caesar.”
I leave him and make my way upstairs, using the metal staircase instead of the lift. I can see the light burning through her doorway. I swallow the giant lump in my throat as I get closer to her. She sits in the corner of the small couch that is squeezed into the tiny space. I am drawn t
o her like a moth to the flames, and as I sit next to her, she looks at me with a weak smile. I just sit, no words. I cannot quite manage words after today. After a while of sitting in silence, she lays her head on my lap and my heart wants to comfort her. To take it all away and make her whole again, my fingers dance through her hair. The soft, silky strands slipping through them lull me into a deep silence. I want to hold her closer. I want to love her so much. I want to, but then I would have to tell myself the truth I have denied for so long. Instead I sit here with her head on my lap stroking her hair and wishing for a different life. My heavy eyelids fall closed and I remember doing the same thing with Marta, she would just be still and let me. “Why me?” she whispers. My body reacts, I can’t stop it, the vile heat burns in me and my cock jumps. Please be quiet, I am begging you. “Shh,” I try to hush her.
“You say you don’t want me, but your body tells me different.” Her hand touches me over my jeans. I grab her wrist and I know I am hurting her, but she can’t do that. “I am confused by you, Caesar.” I let her hand go, my threat understood, but before I can respond, she straddles my lap. Her voice and her body are so wrong. She kisses me, her mouth is on mine. Her sweet, beautiful mouth violates my mouth and my mind. I cannot think, I cannot move and my hands are in her hair as I kiss her back. What are you doing, Caesar? This is wrong! This is sick! Stop it! My head tells me to stop, but her voice made my body want her. When my thoughts actually crash into me, the red rage pulses through me, blinding me and I throw her off of me. Her body crashes to floor, her head hitting the concrete with a thud. I stand and step over her body; disgusted with myself, I leave. I go home to my silence.
What have you done, Caesar? You are sick, she is just a girl.
Svetlana
Save me from the beasts and tantalize me with your ways. Push me,
The Goodbye Man (Red Market #1) Page 10