Broken, Bruised, and Brave

by L. A. Zoe

  I’d never wear this dress again anyway, and I could wash my face and hair in a few moments in any one of the fifty bathrooms in that mansion.

  Chapter Thirty

  Helena Plays the Violin

  Helena must have arrived at the party while Rhinegold and SeeJai circulated among the crowd in the back rooms, as they missed her entrance.

  Rhinegold guided SeeJai back to the main living room only to check on the progress of the caterers. Not only had they already unpacked a long buffet table, but Helena already sat next to Father in front of a full plate. If she noticed Rhinegold and SeeJai, she gave no sign.

  SeeJai’s hand tightened in Rhinegold’s, so he knew SeeJai spotted Helena.

  “Take it easy,” he said.

  “Don’t worry,” SeeJai said with bitter sadness. “I won’t embarrass you even more than I already have.”

  “You haven’t—”

  “Shut up.”

  If only he pulled that invitation out of the mail instead of SeeJai, they could be watching a good movie without her ever knowing she missed this party.

  But they couldn’t leave yet without appearing conspicuous, and, besides, he remained hungry, so they joined the buffet line.

  Two tossed salads. Sliced onions and tomatoes in vinegar and olive oil. Black bean salad. Potatoes au gratin. French cut green beans with sliced almonds and bacon. Chinese barbequed pork. Baked cannelloni. Chicken curry with many steamed vegetables. Sweet potatoes with a pecan topping. Sliced ham.

  At the end of the table, a man in a long white apron and a puffy chef’s hat stood waiting to slice your choice of well done or medium rare roast beef, kept warm under a red light.

  Off to the side, people helped themselves to small plates of dessert. Pink angel food cake with red icing for Valentine’s Day. Slices of pumpkin, pecan, apple, and cherry pie with a dish of whipping cream. Chocolate brownies. Carrot cake.

  More wine for SeeJai. Another cold can of beer for him. How many now?—not that it mattered. He didn’t feel drunk, just numb enough to want to eat a plateful of everything despite having eaten enough appetizers to feel stuffed.

  He stumbled once, but didn’t fall or drop anything. They found seats in adjoining wing chairs, and chowed down.

  As Rhinegold began stuffing himself with pecan pie, Sybille clapped her hands, then asked for silence while Helena entertained them with several violin pieces. She took center stage at one end of the large main living room, about twenty feet in front of Rhinegold and SeeJai.

  He tapped her arm to get her attention. “Are you all right?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m eating the food on my plate, not throwing it.”

  Helena played Debussy’s The Girl With the Flaxen Hair, then Dance of the Blessed Spirits from Gluck’s opera Orpheus and Eurydice.

  The beer and his full stomach relaxed Rhinegold, so he let his eyes close and his head nod forward as he listened. No matter what he thought of Helena or whatever she did to SeeJai years ago, he enjoyed her music.

  It felt good to be the golden knight back in the castle, though only as a party guest, not one of the hosts. Sybille allowing him into the castle at the same time as Keara—did that portend some letup in her hatred of him, or just the calculation it was a party with hundreds of people present, including his guest—friend and presumed “date,” SeeJai, and so he would not try anything?

  Or the recognition, after two years of counseling, Keara had healed and moved on?

  The alcohol flowing through his veins and arteries said, whatever, while a jagged hole opened within the pit of his mind, and he rode the sweet violin sound through into an alternative universe, where dragons flew overhead, elves ruled the forests, and true knights fought for glory, honor, and the love of noble maidens.

  Someone shook his shoulder while whispering in an urgent tone, “Rhinegold, come on!” He snorted, woke up.

  Keara stood beside him. “Helena wants to talk to you.”

  “What about?”

  “How should I know?”

  Rhinegold shook his head and looked around. The party had resumed, with people strolling around, but now with only glasses in their hands. Clumps of guests discussed the stock market, the president, basketball, and the weather. No SeeJai. Maybe she hit the bathroom. Maybe she just wanted livelier company.

  Rhinegold stood up. “Where is she?”

  He followed Keara to the back den, now occupied only by Helena sitting in a small love seat.

  She moved over to give Rhinegold space, but their sides pressed against each other.

  Keara disappeared, shutting the door behind her.

  Rhinegold recognized a set-up when he saw it, and nearly left, but Helena looked so sad and lonely, he would have felt rude.

  “You played beautifully,” he told her. “Your talent is wasted on a dinner party.”

  The fire cast a red glow on their faces. The heat burned his front even as his back and ass remained cool, reminding him of the fires he built at the condemned house. The room SeeJai rented was certainly more comfortable, but the central heating not as romantic. The thick crushed velvet of Helena’s dress pressed hard against his ribs. She smelled of vanilla and bergamot.

  That’s when he noticed the red circling the rim of her eyes, and the shine of drops of moisture close to her nose.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You’ve been crying?”

  She smiled as though struggling hard against facial muscles that wanted to frown instead. “My music put you to sleep.”

  He laughed in an embarrassed way. “The beer did that, but I was concentrating on your music. Really. I heard every note. Your music transported me to a wonderful fantasy land, and when you stopped, I felt so good I just stayed there.”

  She laughed cheerfully from her belly. A piece of wood popped, and one of the logs burned through, crashing, raising a cloud of gray ash.

  Helena draped an arm over the back of the love seat, leaned uncomfortably close, her body warmth competing with the fire’s heat.

  “I’ve missed playing for you in that old house,” she said.

  “The police kicked us out,” Rhinegold said with a shrug. He hoped Helena noticed the ’us.’

  “Don’t you ever go anywhere without her?”

  Rhinegold looked down. “Lots of places, but nowhere you’d want to go too. Besides, I don’t know what happened between you two, but I—”

  Helena pressed her hand to his mouth, stopping him. “Keara says you’re not sleeping together, so what is she to you?”

  Rhinegold said softly, “A friend I happen to love.”

  Still holding on to his hand, Helena jerked his arm hard, pulling him close, and kissed him full on the mouth.

  The taste of her lipstick shocked him, but the soft throbbing moist flesh of the lips beneath moved with sensual life. Her tongue invaded his mouth, penetrating between his rows of teeth, zinging his brain with desire and exciting his blood. His heart thumped approval.

  “Aiiigghhh!” someone cried from behind them in a familiar voice.

  Rhinegold broke away from Helena and looked. Keara stood there, trying not to smile.

  He wanted to slap her, and the shock of experiencing such an intense surge of hatred for Keara—of all people—surprised him.

  But he had to time to think.

  “So now you betray me,” he said, voice gruff.

  “You should be with Helena.”

  Her rushed to her, “She only looks like you on the outside.” He paused. “Before. Now it looks like you’ve changed on the inside.”

  The look of uncertainty flickering on Keara’s face gave him a brief moment of satisfaction, but didn’t help SeeJai.

  He opened the door, looked both ways. “Where’d she go?”

  “I don’t know,” Keara said.

  He grabbed her shoulder, though shocked to feel Keara’s bare flesh again, and couldn’t help but shake her a little. Not enough to hurt, just a little. “Find her!”

  Rhinegold rushed
through the many downstairs rooms where the party spilled over, even sticking his head into Father’s private home office, kept dark and shut up during parties.

  Heading back into the house, he ran into Keara, blue eyes fluttering with fear.

  “What is it?” he asked. “Where’d she go?”

  “The back stairs—the kitchen door is locked.”

  “How would she know to go up there?”

  Keara looked down. “When you came to dinner … I took her out on that old patio.”

  “It’s supposed to go below zero tonight. She’s not wearing a coat!”

  “Rhinegold, I’m—”

  “Save it!”

  Weaving in and around to dodge party guests, Rhinegold ran to the main staircase in the living room and rushed up two steps at a time.

  Sybille or one of the maids locked the door of his old bedroom, but he knew how to force it open with a quick pop. He looked out the window near his bed, and down.

  Good Lord! SeeJai sat curled into a tight ball. He unsnapped the latch, and pulled it open. He hauled up the storm window, and held out his hand.

  “I’m only letting you help me so I don’t freeze to death out here,” SeeJai said.

  “Come on.”

  SeeJai jumped high enough so he could grab her lower arm just below her elbow. It already felt colder than a corpse.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Rhinegold Opens SeeJai’s Locket

  Freezing to death in the outside air despite the fire of my anger, I couldn’t help but welcome Rhinegold. His hand gripping my arm with such a great strength made me feel safe—protected.

  I landed on the hard wood floor and curled back into a ball, conserving every calorie of warmth I could while he shut his window.

  “Are you crazy?” he said. “Going out there without a coat?”

  “I c-c-couldn’t open it back up,” I muttered, stuttering as I shivered.

  “You have to know the trick. I guess Keara didn’t bother to show you that part.”

  The cold froze me down to my deepest core. My entire body shook. Icebergs surrounded by heart, pressing it to remain still. My thoughts locked in mid-synapse. My feelings hardened with frost. My blood iced over.

  Rhinegold slid off his shoes and his suit jacket and vest, then pulled the duvet and blankets off the bed. He picked me up, sat down against the headboard, then placed me on his lap so I sat with my back to him. He covered us both with the blankets and duvet.

  His body heat nearly burned my back and ass. He had me cross my arms over my chest, placing my hands in my armpits, then crossed his arms over mine, and covered my hands with his.

  Although his hands were on mine in my armpits, I felt their heat with my breasts. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted them farther from my breasts or closer.

  “You don’t want frostbite like Georgie,” he said. “How do your feet feel?”

  “What feet? Do you mean I still have feet?”

  “They’re under the covers, so they’ll be all right.”

  For a time, I just remained in his arms, safe and warm, luxuriating in his strength. I finally stopped quivering. My feet tingled as blood returned them, but I could feel and bend all my toes, so I must have escaped frostbite.

  “I’m sorry,” Rhinegold said at last.

  “For what? We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend, are we? We haven’t even screwed. You can kiss any woman you want, even that bitch.”

  “So … I can kiss ANY woman, say you true?”

  “Hummph. I said it, didn’t I?”

  When he began turning me around, I knew his plan, and I didn’t resist. His lips burned, so mine must have frozen him. I didn’t expect the electric shock that made me gasp, and tingle throughout my body, as though again just coming out of a cold shock wave.

  I broke away, and wouldn’t meet his eyes. I couldn’t face him.

  I looked around. When my eyes adjusted to the minimal glare put out by my nightlight, I could see.

  A desk in one corner, dressers and shelves around the walls. Lots of ribbons, medals, and trophies on display. Swim team. Football. Karate.

  Posters and maps of Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, Game of Thrones, and Harry Potter.

  Family photographs in frames. I wondered what his mother looked like. How Rhinegold appeared as a young boy. But felt too lazy, too newly warm, to get up and see.

  A faint odor of detergent, bleach, and lemon cleanser. Sybille’s maid kept Rhinegold’s old bedroom clean.

  “I’m sorry about my dress,” I said. “Areetha wanted you to see me as beautiful and sexy. I’m just not.”

  “You’re always beautiful and sexy to me,” he said into my ear, his voice blowing puffs of air. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

  “You tell me, but you don’t—”

  His arms tightened around me. “Don’t what? Attack you? Rape you? Respond as just another horny guy who wants to jump your bones only because you have a vagina between your legs?”

  Closer, closer—I wanted closer. Then I wanted to jump out of bed and run back to the party. “I don’t have horny guys wanting to jump my bones.”

  “And you don’t act like a horny babe wanting to jump my bones. And I don’t want you to.”

  Our closeness frightened me. Two bodies in the dark, hugging in bed, seeking … what from each other. Comfort? Protection against the cold? Sex? Love?

  Two separated halves of one person trying to put themselves back together, to join the flesh man hath sundered.

  I slid into a giant, vast dark underground pool, in over my head.

  Sitting inside the bedcovers with Rhinegold felt so right, so warm, so comfortable, so familiar … and so very, very wrong.

  I moved away, moving slowly, retreating from his touch.

  His embrace eased the pain, and that frightened me. How could I heal if I went backward? If I joined with another? If I didn’t heal, how would I grow? How would I learn to live alone, separate, sufficient unto myself?

  Only then could the pain truly stop. For as long as I wanted to be one of a pair, I could lose the other. I could lose half my own being. I could again experience the pain and loss and sadness I wanted to escape forever.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” he whispered. “You’re still angry with me, aren’t you?”

  I shook my head, but pulled farther away. “Fuck Helena. I mean, you fuck her—if you want.”

  He leaned forward and kissed my nose, laughing at the way I squinched my eyes, thinking it a joke.

  “Listen,” he said. “You hear it?”

  “What? The band?”

  The music came through the walls. They must have been taking a long break, but then again began playing. The red-haired singer’s high-pitched voice warbled.

  “The first time ever I saw your face,” Rhinegold sang along in his rough voice. He rumbled my hair and tickled me. “I thought it was going to fall off, you looked so cold.”

  I didn’t want to respond, but I had to laugh, and punch his ribs in return. “No fair. I couldn’t even see your face, because you had a ski mask on.”

  “The better not to get frostbitten cheeks, my dear.”

  “But you made all the clouds vanish. How do you do that? It’s snowed almost every day, but when I’m with you at night I see a million stars.” And that reminded me. “And Keara too. The night she took me out to the balcony below here, I could see every constellation in the Northern Hemisphere. The Southern Cross, too.”

  “You can have my body if you really want it,” Rhinegold said in that seductive soft but deep voice. “All I ask in return is you love me back. But you don’t. You act like I don’t care about you, when I’d give you all those stars if I could.”

  “You already do, I told you.” I sighed. “If only I believed in magic, I’d say you’re a wizard.”

  “Just a knight in tarnished armor,” he said. “You are the magic, SeeJai. If you don’t believe in magic, that’s like not believing in yourself.”

&nb
sp; I pressed my forehead to his. “I must have reality. Your fantasy hurts too much.”

  He backed away with a sad expression on his face. His eyes dropped, then focused on my locket. “What’s that? I don’t remember seeing that before.”

  “I-I keep it inside my shirt.” I wanted to back farther away, but instinct told me to act nonchalant, so he wouldn’t guess its importance, and move on.

  Rhinegold nodded. “And despite sleeping near you for five or six weeks, until tonight I never saw your bare chest below your throat, did I?”

  I resisted the urge to grab hold of the locket, to try to hide it. He’d already seen it. “Should we go back to the party? Your parents might be getting worried about you.”

  “It’s beautiful.” He reached out.

  I jerked back, but he was faster.

  “What’s wrong? What’s in here you don’t want me to see?” He hefted it. “It’s heavy enough to be real gold. I wouldn’t steal it. You keep it so close to your heart. Who’s picture’s inside? An old boyfriend?”

  I shook my head, faster than I intended. I breathed heavily, almost sobbing. “Please,” I said. “Let’s just go back.”

  “How can it be?” Rhinegold said. “Just a picture, right? Who else except your mother? Or are you hiding a stash of cocaine?”

  I slammed my fist as hard against his cheek as I could. It felt like slapping a granite boulder.

  Rhinegold barely blinked, and kept a firm grip on the locket. “Now I have to see.”

  He flicked the side latch, and my gold locket popped open.

  Rhinegold said: “Oh my God.”

  I pulled away from me, sobbing. “Now are you happy?”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Secrets Revealed

  Rhinegold fell back, covering his face with his hands. “I’m so sorry, SeeJai.”

  Her tears flowed like icicles melted with a blowtorch. She held the locket closed against her chest, then slipped to the floor, chest convulsing up and down with gasping sobs.