by Bella Jewel
“You can do it,” I say in my best encouraging voice. It may or may not be a little sarcastic, too.
With an annoyed sigh, he lifts his arm and puts it over my shoulder.
“See, that wasn’t so bad. I’m not buckling under your man muscles.”
He sighs again.
“Come on then, we need to get off the rocks. To do that we need to navigate one at a time.”
“Well, I wasn’t about to leap over all of them. Fuck, you only gave me one stick. I might be good but shit . . .”
I feign a gasp. “Why, Dimitri. Was that a . . . dare I say . . .
a joke?”
“Just keep walking.”
“You and I will be great friends. Just you wait.”
“Jessica,” he says, his voice slightly amused.
“Yes?”
“Shut up.”
“On it.”
We manage to get over the rocks, figuring out if he sits on his bum and slides we can navigate them far easier. When we reach the flat ground, we can only move slowly. His ankle is hurting him—I can tell because he hisses every now and then, and I know it’s not because of me, because I’m not talking to him. We reach the stream, but I know as well as he does that we’ve still got a solid hour and a half of walking left, and he’s buckling already. The evening is about to be upon us and I don’t know how much further I can push him.
“Stop here,” I say, pointing to the stream. “Put your ankle in. Trust me, it’ll feel better.”
He doesn’t argue. Pretty sure he knows I’m right. We sit beside the water and I help him put his foot in. I can see the instant relief on his face. I sit beside him, putting my sore feet in.
“I know I’m pretty super, but I’m not sure we’ll make it back tonight. Any plans?”
“Are you always making jokes?” he asks randomly.
“Huh?” I say, giving him a puzzled expression.
“You seem to be able to find the funny in everything. Aside from the first night I tied you up, I’ve not seen genuine fear from you.”
I shrug. “I’ve lived so long just doing as I needed to survive, I’ve never really had a chance to discover who ‘Jess-slash-Blair’ really is.”
“How many people have seen this side to you?”
“That would be . . . one. You.”
He turns to me, raising his brows. “Why?”
“I just told you why. When Hendrix first saved me, I was all kinds of fucked up. He helped me channel that until it got easier. Then I resigned myself to the fact that my life would forever be on that ship. I’d never love, I’d never marry, I’d never have kids. I just was. I kept to myself and I was thankful every day that he helped me survive. I wasn’t afraid of you, despite your best attempts. And they were good attempts, by the way.”
He smiles.
Oh God. He smiled.
My heart melts and my belly turns to a mass of liquid mess.
I force myself to keep talking, though my voice is wobbly. “I guess this is what’s underneath it all. Underneath the broken girl and the girl who resigned herself to a life on the ship. I guess, really, when all the skin is stripped back, this is Blair. Jess is quiet, Jess does as she’s told, Jess is broken and is too damned scared to let herself feel. Blair, she’s different. She’s the beauty before the pain. She’s the witty, funny girl that I have no doubt I would have grown to be if given the chance.”
“You’re Blair,” he says, his voice deep and throaty. “The girl I see, she’s Blair.”
I smile at him, the first real smile I’ve given for so many years I can’t count.
“And who are you, Dimitri?”
He turns and stares at me, his eyes hard. “I’m Dimitri.”
“Okay, I will rephrase. Who is this?” I point to his chest. “Right here, right now.”
He looks away. “We need to find somewhere to sleep.”
“Are you always going to avoid my questions?”
He shrugs. “I don’t have to answer them.”
“No,” I mutter. “I suppose you don’t. Fine, have it your way. Where can we sleep?”
He looks around and it’s slowly beginning to get dark. He points to a small overhanging rock. “That’ll have to do.”
I help him up and we walk over. There’s just enough room under the rock for one body. Nice.
“You sleep under it, I’ll be fine just leaning against it,” he says.
“Whatever you want.”
We both sit down under it for now and stare out at the sun setting.
“It’s a beautiful island.”
“It’s my peace,” he admits.
“I can see why.”
“I have a question for Jess . . .”
I turn to him. “She’s listening.”
He hesitates for a moment.
“What happens under this rock stays under this rock, Dimi.”
He shoots me a look. “Why did you call me that?”
“I think it’s who you are now. Dimi. Your Dimitri is like my Blair. Very few see the real you. So, you’re just like my Jess right now. Dimi is the other side of you, the side you’ve created for yourself.”
He shakes his head, not bothering to argue. “Was there ever a time you wanted to make him pay?”
I turn to him, meeting his gaze. “I did make him pay, Dimi. I killed him.”
He tilts his head. “Was it worth it in the end? Was it what healed you?”
“I’m not healed,” I say, turning away. “I’m surviving. There’s a massive difference. Each night I sleep, I still see his disfigured body. The years don’t take that away, they only blur it. It’s like a TV you can hear but can’t see. But to answer your question, no, it wasn’t worth it in the end.”
“Why not?”
I shake my head, swallowing. “Because it made me a murderer. It made me into something I don’t like living with. It changed me from a victim to someone who became exactly the same. I took a life. Justified or not, it wasn’t my life to take. So no, it wasn’t worth it. Did I want him to suffer? Yes. But a life is a life all the same, and taking one hurts no matter the reason you take it.”
He’s silent for a long while. When I turn to look at him, he’s staring at the setting sun. A cool breeze comes in, tickling my face and making me shiver.
“It’s going to be a cold night and you’re wearing half a dress,” Dimitri finally says. “Take my shirt.”
“You’ll freeze. It might be half a dress but at least the top half is long.”
I stare down at the cream and brown dress I’m wearing. I’m thankful right now it’s got long sleeves.
“Jess, don’t argue.”
I raise my brows at him. “You’ll freeze. We’ll be fine. I’m fine.”
He shakes his head. “Women.”
“That wasn’t very nice.”
He doesn’t answer me and we sit in silence as the sun goes down.
I won’t admit I’m kind of happy to feel him so close to me.
But I’m also scared—God only knows what’s out here at night.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jess
It’s freezing.
No, that doesn’t even cover it. The word freezing just doesn’t do it.
My teeth are clattering together and my entire body is shaking so hard I feel as though I’m convulsing. I can feel Dimitri beside me¸ but not close enough that I have the privilege of gathering body heat.
“Jesus,” he mumbles. “It’s cold. Are you okay?”
“I-I-I-I.” I can’t even speak, great.
He rolls and sits up, reaching out. I feel his hand touch my face. It’s warm. How the hell is it warm?
“You’re fucking freezing.”
“I-I-I-I . . .”
“Shit,” he grumbles.
He’s still for a moment before letting out a deep sigh and saying, “Move out for a second.”
I do as he says, moving out from the hanging rock. He shuffles around and then says, “Come back.”
“I don’t want to die. You don’t want to die. Body heat.”
Logical.
I don’t argue. I’m too cold.
“Just . . . don’t touch me.”
Seriously?
“A-a-a-a-are you s-s-s-s-serious?”
“Lie beside me, I’ll wrap you up but don’t . . . don’t touch me.”
Fine. Whatever.
I lie down beside him and he pulls me into his arms, doing just as he said. Wrapping me up. He curls himself around me and I feel his body heat pouring into me. Oh. Yes. Thank God. After about ten minutes, I finally begin to feel my fingers and toes again—but sleep is not happening.
“I can’t sleep,” I say, shifting to make sure I don’t “touch” him.
“That’s probably because we’re on the ground, and it’s hard.”
“Probably. Want to play a game?”
He makes a rumbling sound with his chest. “I don’t play games.”
“Don’t be such a fun spoiler.”
He sighs. “Dare I ask what the game is?”
“Okay, so we’ll ask one question each about each other. We have to answer it, even if we don’t want to.”
“Not happening,” he says firmly.
“Okay, unless it’s a really painful question to answer.”
“Still not happening.”
“I’ll go first, ask me something.”
He hesitates for a minute or two, but finally says, “Has there been anyone else since . . . him?”
I shake my head and I know he can feel it. “Not one person.”
He goes silent; it seems to be what he does when he has nothing to say about a situation. Well, I guess most of us are silent if we have nothing to say.
“My turn,” I say softly. “I’ve taken a good guess and I imagine you sleep around quite a bit. Correct me if I’m wrong, of course. But, if I’m right—why all the women?”
He shrugs. “I’m a man.”
“That’s such a man answer!”
He chuckles—oh that sound.
“They just make me feel better for a moment or two. It helps.”
“I wish I had that,” I admit. “The very idea of sex scares me so badly I’ve never wanted to try it. But then, I’ve never had anyone I trust enough to try it with.”
“What about your beloved Hendrix?”
“Hendrix and I were never like that. He always, always respected me.”
No answer again.
“But I guess for you, with women like Livvie around, you don’t have to think too much about what you’re getting.”
He snorts. “Livvie is . . .”
He pauses, weighing up his answer.
“Is easy. Is gorgeous. Is what every man would pick. I mean, why wouldn’t they? Girls like me, we don’t compare to someone like her.”
“It’s hard to compare average and perfect.”
“Fuck, ouch, Dimi!”
He shakes his head. I feel his cheek press against my head as he does. “She’s average, Jess.”
Oh.
My cheeks flush.
“Livvie is a basic idea of what women think men want. Yes, she’s gorgeous, yes she’s easy, but that’s as far as it goes. She’s the same as a thousand other women. She’s fake all over. Women like you, they’re different. You’re not the same as a thousand others, you’re one of your own. So while you might not be the stereotype, you can be so much more beautiful.”
Oh. My. God.
My mouth drops open and I struggle to take a breath of fresh air. Did he just . . . did he . . . call me beautiful?
“My hair is red,” I manage to stammer out.
“It’s fucking gorgeous.”
“My skin . . . is so white.”
“Like a doll.”
“My eyes are too big.”
“The bigger, the better.”
“Stop it!” I cry. “Why are you being so nice to me? Is it because you know I could leave you out here?”
He falls silent. “I may be a whole lot of things, Jess, but I’m not a liar.”
“So you’re just being honest with me?”
“Something like that.”
Damn, pin to the ego bubble. I push from his arms. “I need air.”
“You’re in the open . . .” he points out.
I get up anyway, regretting the decision immediately. It’s freezing and the warmth I just managed to get into my body is now rushing out and being replaced with a bone-chilling cold. I wrap my arms around myself and inhale. In and out. In and out. Just focus.
“Get back in here, you’ll freeze,” Dimi yells.
“Did you know I’ve never been kissed?”
It’s such a stupid thing to say, yet the need to say it seems to far outweigh logic.
“What?” he mutters, his voice laced with confusion.
“He raped me, he took so much from me, but he never kissed me. He never stole that from me. Since then, I never took it from anyone. I just . . . let it be. When I get kissed, I want it to be because both he and I want it. It needs to be slow, and powerful, and everything a first kiss should be.” I stop and take a deep, shaky breath, gathering myself and pushing aside my emotion. “My dreams of falling in love and getting married, living happily ever after were stripped of me when he took my innocence. The one dream I was left with was that maybe someday I’d have that life-stopping kiss.”
“Why are you telling me?”
I sigh, shaking my head. “Well, Dimi, you’re the first person I’ve ever, in my entire life, thought about giving it to.”
Silence.
Long, agonizing silence.
“You don’t want to give me something like that, Jess. I’m far from worthy.”
“Whose opinion is that?” I whisper.
“It’s mine.”
“And it’s not mine.”
“Get back in here,” he says, his voice tired. “We need to rest.”
“I’m not comfortable with that close proximity when I just confessed that I’d like you to kiss me.”
He’s quiet again.
“Just get in.”
“Bossy,” I mutter, kneeling down and crawling back in.
The minute I’m in, he pulls me back to the position we were in before. The moment the warmth fills me again, I sigh. Thank God, I needed this. So badly. I yawn and feel my eyes getting heavy. I feel bad for Dimitri sleeping on the hard, cold ground. I can tell by his breathing that he’s not settling down—his heart is pounding against my cheek and his chest is rising and falling heavily.
“What’s on your mind that has you breathing like that?” I whisper, yawning again.
“Kissing you.”
My yawn halts and I snap my mouth closed. Kissing . . . me? He’s thinking about kissing me? Oh.
“Is that a good thought or a bad thought?”
His chest shakes with suppressed laughter. “Usually good.”
My cheeks grow hot and my heart begins to pound. I’ve not for one second since I was a young girl thought about kissing a man. I’ve never wanted it. I’ve never tried to get it. I honestly started to believe that I would end up alone, cold, and never wanting it. I thought maybe he’d taken my desire away along with my innocence.
We’re both silent. The only sounds between us are the sounds of the night creatures, singing and shuffling, and our own deep, ragged breaths. I swallow over and over, trying to take my mind off the thought of kissing Dimitri. My heart is pounding so heavily it actually hurts. As if someone above thought it would be funny to play a joke on me, my stomach decides to drop one hell of a cramp.
Really, God? You choose now to drop that on me?
I groan and shift, trying to get comfortable. It doesn’t help that I’m left with little protection out here. Damn you, Aunt Flo, you’re always picking the worst moments to show your face.
“You okay?” Dimitri asks.
“I just . . . I have a
cramp.”
“Want to shift?”
“Not . . . that kind of cramp.”
“Oh,” he says, shifting about. Clearly that made him uncomfortable.
“I need to move again, just for a second.”
He lets his arms go from around me, and I crawl out of the warmth and stand. I put my hands out in front of me and find the nearest tree. I have one tampon stashed in my pocket to get me by until morning and I am thinking now is the best time to use it. I quickly change it, stumbling a few times and cursing as I dig a big enough hole to hide the other one. It’s really the worst possible thing I could have right now. My cheeks are flushing with shame.
“What are you doing?” Dimitri yells. “Killing an animal?”
“Very funny,” I mutter, dusting my hands off. I don’t even want to know how dirty I’ll be by morning.
I navigate my way back to Dimitri and I crawl back into his arms. He takes me in easily, not hesitating when I put my head back on his chest. I try to get comfortable but it seems like that’s not likely with the pain radiating through my lower belly and down my legs. I get bad cramps; it’s always been something I’ve struggled with. I whimper and shift.
“They’re bad, aren’t they?” Dimitri asks.
“Yes. It’s okay, they’ll go eventually.”
He moves me so I’m on my side and his hand slides down, taking hold of the hem of my dress.
“Whoa, what are you doing?” I cry, pulling away from him.
“Warmth helps,” he murmurs, sliding his hand under my dress and finding the soft spot between my hips. Thank God it’s high enough that he’s not anywhere near my womanly bits. But he manages to find the exact spot I’m cramping. He puts a small amount of pressure on my belly by pressing down, and the warmth of his hand does seem to help.
“It’ll get better the longer my hand is here.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Now, try to sleep.”
I feel my eyes drooping and I know sleep is something I really need to concentrate on. I’m exhausted and so is he. I close my eyes, breathing in and out deeply, inhaling his warm, manly scent. I find my body dropping off quickly and when the warmth from his hand finally penetrates, easing my cramping, I drift off to sleep.
“Goodnight, Blair,” I think I hear him murmur before the world goes dark.