by Brown, Tara
She grabs a red slutty dress from the closet.
I arch an eyebrow, "Let's try to stay in the realm of possible and not totally obvious."
She looks at me. "You know you can't like, have a relationship with him right?" She sounds doubtful.
I laugh, nervously. "Yeah. Of course. We're like survivors of the same shit. I just like him." I lower my voice, "Not like how I like Sebastian." It's true. I like him so much more than Sebastian. Sebastian is the right man for the normal girl I want to be.
"What if he abducts you again?" She asks into my back when I turn and grab the brush off the desk. I stop and think. The idea is almost intriguing. Being abducted by him again would be interesting.
I shake my head, "What can he do he hasn’t already done? What can anyone do to me that hasn’t already be done?" I turn and face her, "I don’t have any walls left Shell. I'm like a single tree standing in a field for everyone to see. There is nowhere for me to hide."
She raises an eyebrow and passes me a pale-pink, cotton-off-the-shoulder dress, "Sometimes having a couple things you keep to yourself isn’t such a bad thing, Em."
I take the dress and smile. She is never going to stop calling me Em. I don’t mind it though. It's like she isn’t completely dead and gone. Like a small spark of her lives on in me. But not the bad stuff.
I pull on the dress.
"You have to take the bra off dude. Off the shoulder dresses look slutty with bras sticking out. She passes me a white thing.
"Bandeau."
I pull my bra off and the bandeau on. I slink into the dress and look at myself in the mirror. I run my hands through my blonde hair and wriggle my lips back and forth. I make duck lips and nod, "Yup." I slip on my Uggs and turn to face her. She lightly dabs makeup on. "Okay I am a believer. Dude, this is my makeup. My germs."
I shrug, "Okay."
"It isn’t bugging you that I've touched it to my face?"
I open one eyes and frown, "Trying to make me stress?"
She laughs, "Just testing." She spins me back to the mirror, "You look pretty."
I do.
I look innocent but still sexy. It's a good look for me. I shrug on my huge white down jacket and pocket my cell phone.
She slips on her coat and opens the door. I look back at the apartment and smirk. It's a swamp.
She grimaces, "I might miss you cleaning all the time."
I laugh and we walk down the stairs. I glance at my phone. We are crazy late. I smile. I need to get my defiant little digs in.
Stuart and the car are sitting in the snow across the street. The cold wind attacks my skirt and legs. I moan, "I hate Boston. I hate winter."
She links her arms into mine, which I barely feel with the down jackets. Stuart's got the door open when we get there. He looks desperately in Shell's direction. She ignores him completely and climbs in. His jaw tightens. He looks at me apologetically. I put a hand on his coat sleeve and shake my head, "We cool? Me and you? No more lies and weirdness?" He nods.
His eyes flash a concerned look, "You forgive me?" I nod as he closes the door.
I nudge her, "You okay?" She nods and looks pissed.
I know that if the hostage heels had been on the other foot I would never forgive him. Never. I can only hope for the sake of the car rides and the tension levels, she lets him beg for forgiveness. He is so damned sexy and she is such a sexual person I am betting they’ll be back together in a day or two.
"Give him a chance to explain at least." I whisper just as he gets in.
She scowls, "Screw that."
He puts the car in drive, inching along in the snow. It might take longer than a day or two.
He looks at us in the rearview, "I think I'll be bringing the SUV from now on. I just didn’t want to change it up before I told you."
I smirk, "It's cool. Probably better in the snow." He's still treating me with kid gloves.
His eyes dart at Shell in the mirror, "Welcome home."
She gives him the cold shoulder. True Italian woman. And she's only half.
He drives us to a building in the heart of downtown. We could have walked. He pulls up and hops out. I feel silly having him open the door. I look at him, "After the cell this feels strange."
He nods, "I know. I need this job though, Sarah."
"I won't say anything."
He blushes, "Thanks." His eyes dart to Shell.
I wink at him and look back at her, "Just wait here till I see what he wants."
She scoffs and scoots along the seat towards me, "Yeah right."
I put a hand out, "Dude. I want to be strong on my own. I swear, Stuart isn’t going to let anything happen to me."
She looks homicidal for a second and then nods climbing back in, "I expect a text every minute."
"Done." I turn and run for the building. I know I won't be texting her. She'll be busy. He's got some groveling to do.
I run to where a man opens the door under the awning to the fancy building.
"Good evening."
I duck my head. The entrance is stunning. I stop and stare. It's incredible. The man at the front desk looks like a bellhop. I frown at him when he asks, "May I help you?" I look confusedly at the room and walk to him. My bare legs are freezing. It looks like a hotel, but I don’t think it is.
I blow on my hands and speak softly, "Hi. I'm a guest of Eli Adams."
He lifts the phone and speaks softly. "Go on up. Tenth floor."
"Which room?"
He smiles at me like I've told him a lame joke, "The entire floor." He rolls his eyes and goes back to whatever he was doing. I frown and sigh. I hate the building already. I cross the shiny floor and press the elevator button.
The doors open but I'm not prepared for him to be there. I flinch seeing him.
He smiles. It’s the same fake smile he gave me at the doctor's office. "Sarah."
My air is sucked out of my lungs. I feel like I'm drowning for a second. I calm myself and smile back. "Hi." He steps back, "Come in."
I hesitate but force myself inside. This is the test. It's the practice run for any other guy. For Sebastian. I remind myself I wanted to see Eli.
"How are you?" He asks.
I frown and look at the stainless steel wall. "Since I saw you a few hours ago?"
"Right. Of course."
I look up at him, "I'm fine. Really."
His eyes look tense.
"Are you waiting for me to fall apart?"
He watches my face and nods.
"It won't happen. It's different for me than you. I was already pulled apart. The memories suck, but inside I already knew they were there. Your eyes and her face have haunted me for the entire fourteen years."
He doesn’t look convinced. I can't help but stare at his lips. His look of confusion makes one side of his upper lip lift. I want to kiss it and suck it.
I'm breathing out of my mouth and thinking things I have only seen on Netflix in the foreign-movie section. I snap out of it as the elevator dings to his floor. He holds a hand out. I smile and take it. I step off and notice how open and incredible it is. The lights of the city are unbelievable from his windows. His hand squeezes mine.
We walk in silence to the far side of the room, where one entire wall is made of windows. The place feels cold and lonely. Lights in the kitchen dimly light it.
"I didn’t grow up like you. I didn’t have a mom and a dad and Dr. Bradley to help me. I had to get tough on my own."
He leans against the window and watches me, "It just feels like you're not dealing with it. It took me months to get to where you are. Years even. I'm scared you're walling up again."
I unzip my coat and pull it off. He looks down on me like he's battling with something. I sit on the long leather couch and cross my legs. I look down on the glass coffee table and huge fluffy white rug and laugh, "Your life was filled with shit like this." I tap my Ugg against the glass, "Fancy things. Like therapy."
I turn and look at him, "I had people
. They didn’t feel sorry for me. I was just another orphan. The people in my town felt sad for me and treated me with tons of kindness and pity because they all assumed I was abused and brutalized. What kind of kid is wandering the streets at six-years old? A kid who doesn’t have loving parents. It was no mystery that I was tortured or beaten or molested. But the nuns and priests taught me that nothing was easy or free and hard work was what everyone did to get by. No matter their lot. They taught me that bad shit happens to everyone and no one in the world is exempt from horror and pain."
He avoids my eyes still, "But they didn’t know what you went through."
I shake my head. I feel sick thinking about it. I push it down and smile, "No. But there was a girl who was taken from her parents. Her mom was her sister. She lived in that house till she was ten. Her name was Beth. She's the same age as me. She's becoming one of the sisters. She shakes if you raise your voice around her and pee's the bed at night, still. God knows what happened to her."
I stand up and grab my coat, "I get that what happened to you was bad. It was and there is no denying it or taking that from you. But there are always people who have it worse. You were right. Your advice was right. I can't rot in that old dirty house. I will never be okay with what happened. I can't say the words or think about the things that happened, without wishing it was me that didn’t make it out. But I did. And maybe my hard life in an orphanage, where I was taught not to feel sorry for myself, was the easier environment to heal. You need to listen the next time Dr. Bradley tells you to be grateful. I'm slowly getting there. I'm grateful to you for everything you have done for me."
I walk to the elevator and hate myself for wishing the Eli with the paddle was the one there.
He jogs to where I am and grabs my hand, "Wait." He spins me to face him. He moves his mouth like he wants to say something. Instead, he brushes his hand along my face, tracing my jaw line.
His eyes burn, "You're so much stronger than I am."
My skin shivers. "I had to be."
He lowers his face and brushes his lips against mine. The kiss is like a teaser but he won't give me more. I let him tease me for a minute and then I reach up and pull his face down on mine. I grip to him for dear life.
Like I've hit the on switch, he shoves me back into the door of the elevator. His hands are on either side of me, pinning me into the wall.
He stops and bites his lip. His breath is in my face. He licks his lips and shakes his head, "You're right. I'm not like you. I can't be grateful like you are. I can't get past the fact I never saved her." He pushes the elevator button next to my arm.
"You saved me." My inhalation is heavy, but not for the usual reasons.
He lowers again, kissing me with meaning and desperation.
He runs his hand up my dress, tracing a line up my bare thigh. His fingers brush up and onto the back of my leg. His fingers slip into my panties, gripping my ass cheek. He squeezes, making a gasp leave my lips. He kisses harder. I'm moaning into his mouth.
He stops kissing, but his lips stay touching mine, lightly like a feather would. "I'm bad for you, Sarah. I won't ever be the gentleman you need."
"Maybe I don’t want gentle."
He pulls something from his dress pants and presses it into my hand. "And that is my fault."
The elevator opens. He lifts me into his arms, shoving his tongue into my mouth, sucking mine. He moans with me. I feel him taking steps. He places me down gently inside of the elevator and steps back.
His blue eyes are almost black in the dim light. A slight grin crosses his lips, "Forgive me." He wipes his mouth and steps back. The doors close on him.
The image of him standing in the elevator doors, in his silver dress shirt and dark-grey dress pants wiping me off his lips, is the sexiest and most devastating thing I've ever seen.
I feel like I'm having a heart attack. My hand is shaking. I lift it to my face to see what the crumpled piece of paper is.
I drop my coat and smooth the paper. The elevator stops and the doors open, but I stand and look at the names on it.
Sebastian Hollinger and an address.
I look up to see the front desk guy leaning across the desk, looking at me.
Eli kissed me like that and then handed me a piece of paper with the name of another man on it? A man I didn’t need help finding.
My lips curl into a sneer as I push the ten again.
My eyes narrow.
Heat is pouring off my hands.
When the elevator door dings, I walk out into the apartment. He's standing in the dark, leaned against the window and looking down on where my car is parked.
"Leave." His voice is edgy and dangerous. He sounds the way he did on the phone, when I just knew him as a benefactor and not a person.
I crumple the piece of paper and throw it at him, "I have his cell number. I don’t need this. You know I do. You answered him when he sent me messages."
It bounces off the windows and lands on the dark hardwood floors. I walk towards him when he ignores me. I shove his back. He flexes and braces for the impact. He spins and points at me, "He's the right guy for you, Sarah. You don’t want to start this fight." He's angry.
"You want me to be pissed at myself like you are? You want me to take years to talk about my feelings and slowly crawl out of that fucking hole?" I point at him, "When you pulled that trigger at eleven, you were twice the man you are now."
He vibrates, "Get out." He growls through his teeth.
I arch an eyebrow at him, "You mad?"
He licks his lips, "Yup." He gives me my usual answer.
I laugh and take a step back, "Good."
He walks to me scooping me up in his arms. I wrap my legs around him. His mouth slams into my lips. His tongue is searching for mine. My hands rake through his hair. He slams me into the elevator door and pushes the button. His teeth scrape against my lip.
I cry out and grab a fist full of his hair and pull his head back. He laughs. It's dark and menacing. He crushes me harder into the door. I squeeze tighter with my legs. My dress is pulled up to my chest. His erection is popping out the top of his pants, pressing between my legs and onto my bare stomach. He thrusts, rubbing himself against me. His hands cup my ass, kneading and squeezing to the point I'm certain my cheeks are bright red.
The door dings.
He steps in with me. He presses the button inside and rams my back into the steel wall inside of the elevator.
I groan.
It's exhilarating to have him pressing me so hard into the wall. I squeeze tighter with my legs, he cries out in my mouth.
His hands are searching the back of my underwear. He's tugging them hard. They cut into my leg on the other side of where he pulls. I wince. He grabs them with his other hand and rips them. My eyes widen.
The door dings. I glance at the foyer. We are on the wrong side for the elevator for the front desk douche to see us. Eli's left hand slips back and cups my ass, holding me up. I feel his right hand fumbling in the front of his pants. I hear the zipper of his pants as he sucks and kisses my neck. I moan and press the ten again. The doors close. He's licking up and down my throat.
He growls in my ear. His heavy breathing is making me hot and sweaty. I'm sitting on the handle on the wall, loosening my grip on him so he can get his fumbling fingers between my legs. I'm wet, soaked. His fingers slip inside of me with ease. My wind is lost in the pressure of his fingers inside of me. I can only get out tiny spurts of air as he thrusts rapidly, but only for a moment. Just long enough to make me delirious. His hand is between my legs again, not inside of me. He rubs the head of his erection in my opening and pushes in with one rough thrust.
I cry out, partially in pain and partially in ecstasy. Somehow they have become the same thing to me. The pain makes the pleasure more.
The zipper from his pants rubs against the bottom of my thigh as he pumps into me wildly. His face is lost in my hair and neck. He's kissing and moaning. The back of my head being thumped
into the steel wall of the elevator repeatedly. The pain of it makes me come alive suddenly, like it's freeing me.
My legs are losing their grip, but his thrusts are pinning me to the wall. I lose a boot and cry out simultaneously. I'm putty. I'm feeble and losing all the control I've held for so long. Memories of him blindfolding me and paddling my feet flash in my mind. I cry out harder. The images of the paddle make me wetter. My hands are clawing at his shirt. I'm gripping his neck as I grip his erection and convulse. The paddle and the pain are making me come. They make me free of the things I've used to confine myself. It feels as if I've grown wings.
My body spasms.
He grunts and moans, "God damned, Sarah." His words are almost blended in one long gasp.
He pumps with uneven jerks. I feel his grip loosen. I open my eyes and watch his face. His mouth opens as he cries out. I bite his lower lip and pull. He moans loudly.
I want to bite harder but I don’t.
I want more of him. I want to hurt him the way he hurts me.
I don’t feel better.
I'm still a bit pissed.
He steps back and pulls himself out of me. I slide down his body. He blushes and tucks himself back in his pants.
The door dings. I glance out and realize we are at the foyer again. A lady is standing there looking at us. She's holding a small shivering dog and they both look horrified. I follow her gaze to my shredded panties lying on the floor of the elevator.
The doors close again as I pull my dress down and pick up my boot. I press the ten again.
I fight the grin that wants so badly to take over my face. I'm still out of breath and horribly shocked. I pick up my coat and pull it on. The doors open. He doesn’t walk inside. I look at his apartment and then the floor again. He stands with his back to me, he's heaving still too.
He seems so large standing in front of the doors as they close. The elevator moves again. He bends and picks my underwear up and puts them in the pocket of his pants. I scowl and feel weird about him taking them. He doesn’t talk.
The door dings. The lady is still standing there but now she looks disgustedly at me as I step off the elevator. I'm half way across the foyer with flaming red cheeks, both sets, when he grabs me. He drags me outside of the building. He pulls me alongside to an alley. We are standing in the snow. My thighs are slippery and feel cold.