Roses & Thorns: Women

by Bry Ann

  I hiss out a breath. He’s saying that name to hurt me. My girls used to say hurtful things when I got too close to the issue too.

  “With all due respect, don’t ask for my help if you don’t want it. I'm trying to help you. I know what I'm talking about, but I can’t help you if you don't give me anything.”

  “I don’t want your help. I want your opinion.”

  “I won’t give my opinion on Lacey’s future without hearing what you plan on doing with her!”

  There’s a silence, but I can tell he’s not mad. He respects what I said. The silence lingers uncomfortably long. I don’t even chance a look at him. Too risky.

  “I want her to stay, but she can’t.”

  I barely hear him, but the best friend in me is jolted by what he says. It takes everything in me to remain professional.

  “Why do you feel that way?”

  “It’s not a feeling! You know who I am, what I do. It’s no life for her here. She deserves to forget all about this awful place.”

  “Then let her go,” I say, baiting him. Knowing he’s not ready to.

  “She’s not ready to leave! She still needs medical care.”

  “She’s not ready to leave, or you’re not ready for her to leave?”

  “Rose!” he snaps.

  “It’s a simple question.”

  His hand slaps on the desk.

  “God damn it, no it’s not!”

  I lean forward on the desk towards him, less afraid. I'm seeing the man behind the monster right now.

  “You need to talk to her. You need to tell her exactly what you are telling me. How you want to keep her but are scared what this life will do to her. From there, you let her make her own decision.”

  “What do you think though?”

  “Like I said. You two need to communicate. Lacey should make her own decision. It’s her life. Not mine. She can ask me for my opinion after you both talk. She can come to me for support, but I’ve given you my opinion on the issue.”

  “You were no help,” he grumbles.

  “I think you’ll find I was very helpful. When you look back on this you’ll be thanking me.”

  His eyebrows raise and he makes direct eye contact with me.

  “Cocky, aren’t you? You and Sven seem to be a match made in heaven.”

  “I'm not cocky, I'm just saying. Anyway, um, can I go?”

  Immediately I feel nervous again. He assesses me. He seems to have separated himself from what we just discussed. Doing what he does, he must be good at that.

  “I want to discuss one more thing with you first.”

  I stiffen. “Okay.”

  “I'm sure by now you are aware of your situation.”

  I feel my stomach clench violently. I don’t know how I do it, but somehow I get myself to nod.

  “Well, I'm aware too. I'm working on it.”

  “O… kay,” I say slowly. What’s the catch?

  “What I'm asking is this. Don’t do anything stupid. Yes, I know you have your talents and areas of expertise, but when it comes to this shit, you’re pretty damn stupid.”

  Gee, way to not pull any punches.

  “So, if something comes up and you are even slightly unsure about it come to me, Sven, Gioele or Frances. I promise you are safe, but if you do something stupid you will only make it more complicated for us. I’d prefer you didn’t do that. I have enough shit to deal with.”

  I nod. Got it.

  “Also,” he stands and goes to the door, “Quit dicking Sven around. He’s got enough shit to deal with too.”

  He walks out before I can tell him that I got it!

  Days go by. Lacey and I hang. Lacey cooks a lot. Sven and I slowly start to hang out again, mainly at meal time. He’s gotten no less serious about me eating, but I can tell he tries to make it a good time for me verses just bossing me around.

  Despite all this, I’ve been brooding a lot lately. I miss my work. I miss helping people. I’d somewhat pushed it aside, but after talking with the Boss the need to work, to fulfill my passion comes back tenfold. It’s a part of me. Sven has noticed, I can tell, but he hasn’t asked me about it yet. It’s in the way he looks at me, like he wants me to tell him on my own. I don’t know how to tell him. He’s been different since I’ve given in a bit to my feelings for him. I never thought a man like him could crave love but he does. As do I. And we’re exploring it. In the best way we can with Sven being who he is. As days have passed, and I’ve been less avoidant in every single one of them, he’s started to morph back into himself. Just a slightly more mature version. The lessons of recent times have not been wasted on him. I have to admit one thing about Sven that’s impressive is his ability to absorb knowledge. Whatever life throws at him he takes in and learns from. Maybe that’s why I can’t ever figure him out. He’s changing too rapidly to keep up with. Who knows? How did I ever get on this tangent?

  Ding!

  I glance over at my cell phone and roll my eyes. This is either Sven reminding me to eat, Lacey wanting to meet me, Lacey telling me she’s busy cooking or one of those high up men, I think Gioele and Frances are their names, doing a safety check. Even though I don’t want to I roll over the side of Sven’s bed and grab my cell phone with my head hanging off the side. I turn to ice as the small green button fills my phone with horror.

  It’s Kev. Bound and gagged. With a message.

  2501 Lafeet Lane.

  Come alone. And don’t say a word to anyone…

  or he becomes the 42nd Victim.

  You have one week.

  Chapter 18:

  Lacey:

  “Stupid slut.”

  Singe. The smell of burning flesh overwhelms my senses. Save me Adam. God, please save me.

  OWWWWW. Fireworks go off in my mind.

  “Mmmmm….” I grit my teeth and try not to give into the pain. I can’t give them my words. They don’t get to hear me cry or beg. Not this time.

  Pain. Pain. Pain.

  Fingers all over my mangled body. No one comes.

  No one ever comes.

  “Jesus fuck Lacey. BOSS!”

  There’s footsteps. Running.

  Whack! Whack! Whack!

  “Lacey! Lacey! What are you doing?”

  Strong arms wrap around me, pinning my arms to my sides.

  “Let me go!” I kick wildly. “Let me go! Please. Please.”

  “It’s just me Lacey. It’s just me. Shhh… you’re safe.”

  The voice is gruff and pained. My body goes limp. I collapse into the arms of the man holding me and start to silently cry. I can’t make too much noise. I'm carefully turned and carried to the side of the room. The sound of my back dragging against the plaster sounds like an alarm in this silent room. The mat is soft against my sore body.

  “Come here.”

  The voice is gentle and so is the hand that wraps around my waist and pulls me into a warm lap. Adam.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay. I got you.”

  “I'm never gonna be safe. They’ll get me back. They promised I’d die there. They… they promised.”

  I start to rock back and forth. My mind is splintering.

  “Things are too good right now. To… too peaceful. They brought me for so much money, Adam. So, so much money.”

  I feel everything inside shut off, fall into a deep peace. My voice is almost robotic when I speak again. I sit up and stare out into the distance.

  “I'm a dead woman. I can’t. Not again. I'm theirs.”

  “No!” Adam hisses. “Never. You hear me, Lacey? If it’s the last thing I do, those motherfuckers will never lay a finger on you. I swear it.”

  I shake my head. “You’re lying.”

  “I'm not. God, I swear Lacey. I'm not lying. I’ll protect you. They will not hurt you.”

  “I can’t trust you! You were supposed to come for me! You were supposed to realize you messed up! Before they broke me, Adam! I don’t care who you are, you were supposed to come. It’s too late. Yo
u came… too late.”

  A breath whooshes out against my ear.

  “I know little dove. I know.”

  I have nothing to say to that. I just cry. I can’t. The sadness is swallowing me whole. I'm constantly on a wave of false peace and debilitating sadness.

  “You’re gonna get rid of me,” I whisper. “When you’re done.”

  Even though he stiffens I tuck myself further into his warm body. I'm so cold. His hand wraps around me and splays across my low back.

  “I’d never get rid of you. As long as you want to stay… Lace, we’ll take it. Please, will you let me see your hands? Please babe.”

  I slowly pull away and extend my hands. He inspects my bloody knuckles.

  “I have wraps babe. I have wraps and gloves if you want to box. Please don’t box on bare hands again, especially the way you were doing it.”

  He traces his fingers over the open sores.

  “I know. I wasn’t thinking. I knew you had a boxing gym in your house, and I was drowning. I just… my hands are fine. I promise.”

  “Lacey, you’re knuckles are ripped to shreds.”

  “They’re fine.”

  “Okay, whatever you say. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  “No!” I shriek, jumping to my feet. “I'm not done! I'm not done here.”

  Adam stands slowly. He’s cautious, reacting to my wildness.

  “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

  “I talk to my therapist.”

  I'm so angry all of the sudden. I feel like boiling lava. I have no idea where all this came from. I was fine a second ago. I was just starting to calm down. Then he wanted me to clean up. He wanted to stop my fists from burning and I. Can’t. My flashback will come back.

  “I know you do,” he says gently, “but she’s not here right now. So I'm offering. Do you want to talk to me?”

  “You’re an asshole! I don’t want to talk to you.”

  His face is a mask that gives nothing away. He doesn’t react to anything I say, and damn I want him to! I want to make him mad. I want to hurt him.

  “Okay. Then what do you want?”

  I spin and face the wall, full of unrestrained anger. I cock my arm back. I go to swing it forward towards the concrete wall. It’s flying through the air when one finger at a time his hand stops me.

  “Anything but that babe. Okay? I won’t let you do that. Don’t hurt yourself. That’s not the person you’re angry at.”

  Before I can think, or do literally anything other than feel, I swing around and slap him square across the face. A momentarily look of shock crosses his face before that mask slips back on.

  “Did that help you?”

  I do nothing but stand there vibrating with rage. I don’t know what’s going on and it scares me. All I see is red, and all I feel is fear.

  “Okay,” Adam says.

  He crosses the room. He comes back with wraps and gloves. He grabs one of my hands and gently wraps it. I can tell he wants to take care of my sores first, but he knows I won’t let him. When he’s wrapping me up he sticks a glove on my hand and repeats that on the other side. I stare at him the whole time. I want to hit him. I want to hurt him, and I think he knows it. Still, he comes right in my space and puts the gloves on me. Taking the chance I’ll hit him while he’s focused. He’s probably just not scared of my punch and that alone lights the fire raging inside me.

  As I'm glaring, shifting through my racing thoughts, Adam finishes up and steps back. I watch him carefully. He takes his jacket off, loosens his tie and slowly unbuttons his shirt, throwing it to the side of the dingy boxing gym with the rest of his clothes.

  “Go ahead.”

  He extends his arms. Most girls would question it. Ask him if she’s sure. Hell, in the right frame of mind I’d never do this. Even if he offered. Even if I asked permission. But now. I don’t ask a damn thing. I fly at him. Arms swinging. He lets me. I swing and swing, landing punch after punch. He only ever blocks me if it’s a shot to his face or if I'm going to kick his dick. Other than that, he lets me go haywire. Crazy.

  Each pathetic whack at his rock hard chest echoes throughout the room. I punch and punch, feeling the energy drain from my body. I'm sweating and shaking, but I keep punching. And he lets me. He barely even winces half the time. He stands there totally impassive, shirtless, in his dress slacks.

  Whack! Whack! Whack.

  My energy starts to give out. My punches to turns to hits. Then simple taps, before my shaking legs give out from underneath me. I try and catch my breath, but it feels like my lungs are on fire. My bones ache. My hands feel like they are being burned. Adam crouches down, completely fine. He slowly takes the gloves and wraps off me without saying a word. They are covered in blood, sweat and probably tears, but he doesn’t care.

  Once they are off he takes my weak, shaking form in his arms. Lifting me right off the ground. He carries down the hall to his room. I try and pull away from his chest as my anger starts to dissolve and guilt starts to take its place.

  “I'm sorry,” I whisper, eyes filling with tears as we enter his room. He kicks the door closed behind him, still holding me in his arms. He looks down at me softly and shakes his head.

  “No.”

  No. That’s it. He walks into the restroom and gently sets me on the edge of the tub. This feels familiar, yet so different. He takes my hands and flips them over, looking at the blood and raw flesh there. I'm drenched in sweat because I refuse to wear anything other than a sweatshirt. Once Adam checks all the doors he slowly peels the sweatshirt off me. The cold air brushing my sweaty skin feels amazing, yet unwelcome. I hate the cold.

  “You’re burning up,” he whispers.

  “I'm fine.”

  He glares at me. He looks upset now. Not angry, but upset.

  “You’d say you were fine even if you were literally on fire.”

  I say nothing because I probably would. Adam reaches over me and starts the tub. I sit there quietly. His chest is red in the places I punched him. I bite my lip. He’s gonna throw me out the door. I'm losing it. It’s one thing to be sad, it’s another to start beating up on people. I feel shame. So much shame. When Adam is in the closet grabbing who knows what, I slowly push off the tub. I'm headed for the door with my sweaty, bloody sweatshirt in hand when Adam comes out of the closet looking menacing, naked, except for his boxers.

  “Sit your ass on that tub Lacey.”

  I drop my head and do as I'm told. Adam follows me over there. He traces his finger down my cheek. His hands find the hem of my sweats and he slowly starts to peel them off, leaving me in my bra and underwear. He reaches over me and turns off the water. He looks at me softly before lifting me and setting me in the gigantic tub. I scoot back and tuck myself into a small ball. Adam crawls in the tub beside me. He extends his legs and pulls me forward between them. I keep my head down.

  He touches under my chin but doesn't force me to look at him.

  “What’s going on Lace?”

  His freehand finds my knuckles and gently brushes. I wince.

  “Sorry,” he mumbles.

  “I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry Adam.”

  “Don’t be. I'm glad I could help.”

  “Help? I beat you.”

  I glance up to see his lip twitching.

  “Babe, you know I think you are the strongest person I know, but… I’ve got quite a few pounds on you. You didn’t hurt me. I’ve taken worse beatings.”

  Okay, he’s got a point. I’d find it humorous that I even thought I could hurt him if I didn’t feel so broken.

  “I will ask that you tell me what happened. I'm not beneath that. What’s going on?”

  “I'm so angry Adam. I'm so angry! I had a flashback and... I just… I hate… I feel so much. So many emotions I'm not used to.”

  My heart rate increases. That fire feeling starts to come back. A mix of panic and rage starts to swell inside me. Luckily, Adam catches on and gets to work distracting me. He washes me. Rubs my
aching feet and calves, even though I ask him not to. When he’s done he wraps me in a warm towel, dries me and helps me get redressed in a new sweatshirt and sweats. He wraps my knuckles and puts ointment on them. Lastly, he helps me to bed and wraps a protective arm around me. I resist at first, but he pulls me further into him and doesn’t let go. He makes it impossible to resist his comfort.

  “Please warn me before I have to leave. Please, that’s all I ask. Warn me,” I whisper, feeling like my heart is being yanked from my chest. I snuggle closer. Adam stiffens, before gently pulling away from me.

  “Lacey,” his eyes are furrowed, dark and upset, “I…” he shakes his head, “do you want to stay? Here. Do you want to stay… with me?”

  He looks genuinely curious. Like he can’t even fathom the concept. How could he ask me this? This is something I can’t have. Something I shouldn’t want. I jump into him, wrapping my arms around him. I feel his chest hair against my forehead. My words are muffled as they escape my lips.

  “How could you ask me that?”

  He rubs my hair. “Little Dove. What do you want? What do you want? How can I make you happy?”

  Don’t throw me away.

  “You can’t.”

  “I’d believe you. You have every right to feel that way, but I think you are lying to me.”

  You aren’t wrong.

  “I said you can’t.”

  He spins forward, caging me in with his arms. His eyes lock into mine.

  “Lacey, as far as I'm concerned this is your home. Wherever you go. However, you go to bless the world this will always be a home of yours. But I need to hear you say it. You wanna stay?”

  “Adam I…”

  My head is swirling. Why is he doing this?

  “Lacey,” he breathes, brushing my hair back.

  At this moment, staring into his eyes, I see it. I finally see it. The love. He loves me. Adam loves me.

  “I don’t want to go,” I whisper. “I don’t want you to throw me away, or give up on me.”

  “Never.”

  He kisses me. It’s not possessive or rough… it’s loving. Tender. Passionate.

  “Please don’t hurt me. Please,” I whimper against his lips.

  “I love you, Lacey. I didn’t think it was possible for me, but you’re the most incredible, kind, brave, selfless human I’ve ever met. You constantly amaze me. You bring something out in me I like. I don’t ever want to lose you, but I would never want to force you into this life after all it’s done to you. Because, Lace, I am Boss, and I will be for a while.”