by Jaden Wilkes
“Are you going to be ok?” he asked, his hand on her arm.
“I will, but you have to let me go or I’m going to throw up on your shoes,” she said and broke free. Several women near the door were staring at her as she passed through them. By chance, a stall at the end was free and she shut herself inside. She was cold and clammy and shook in the tiny stall. She’d never really been a drinker, her mother and stepfather had seen to it that she abhorred a drunk, but the champagne and the evening made everything seem so light and easy.
Nico and Dimitri were both excellent dancers, but there was something exotic and sensual about the way Dimi held her when they moved together. She knew they had chemistry, but she had also caught several women glancing at him as they moved around the dance floor. It had been mainly techno music, which was funny as she’d never liked it back home…but here it just seemed to fit with the atmosphere.
Nico had kept his distance throughout the evening, except for the garden. He never seemed to be without an attractive woman on his arm though, and that sent a little shock of jealously through her body. Something unexpected, but the sober part of her mind forgave her for this, they all lived so closely together it would be natural that she felt protective of him.
The bathroom stall wouldn’t stop spinning and she listened to the chatter of the partygoers outside. Some were speaking languages she didn’t understand, but she caught a smattering of French here and there, and could now recognize Russian thanks to Dimi’s lessons. English was still predominant, but not surprising considering Hong Kong had belonged to the British until recently.
They sounded like women she might know back home, worrying about their clothes and makeup, talking about some man this one liked or that one was angry with. She closed her eyes and felt an illicit communion with them all, some shared connection that they were unaware of.
It was refreshing to realize that a lot of her fears and concerns sounded similar to those of the women outside the door.
Her stomach finally settled and she didn’t end up throwing up, but remained huddled on the toilet in her expensive dress and beautiful shoes. She opened her clutch and pulled out a lipstick, re-applied it using the mirror from her compact. She was still not confident enough to stand, hip to hip, with all the gorgeous women just feet away.
She stood up, brushed herself off and opened the door. A last minute impulse drew her to the mirror, to test her normalcy she supposed. To find out if she could pass as one of them. Two women parted as she approached and let her take her place in the long row of beautiful, preening girls. She played with her hair, re-curled the stray piece across her forehead and put her chin up to assess herself. She was beautiful, she felt beautiful. Dimitri was right; she did deserve a spot among these women.
She turned to exit and heard sharp laughter to the right of her. She glanced and saw carbon copies of the pretty girls who would taunt her in high school. Blond, thin and perfect…with unmarked skin. Three of them were huddled together snickering about something; it was an evil, unhealthy sound. Columbia walked past, towards her Dimi and the friend who accepted her.
As she opened the door, she heard one of them say, “Oh my God! Did you see her arms?”
The other tittered and one replied, “I know! Gross! I guess that’s why the freaks come out at Halloween, she has a permanent costume!”
They broke out into laughter and Columbia felt her face flush, red and hot. She wanted to run but she straightened her back and exited gracefully, falling into Dimitri’s arms the moment she saw him.
“Are you well?” he asked and held her arm to support her. “Columbia, look at me,” he said in an alarmed tone. He tilted her face to his and saw her tears; she couldn’t hold them back.
Nico was by her side in an instant and asked, “What happened in there? Who did this?”
She didn’t want to tell them, to admit her weakness and vanity…to admit that somebody saw through all her flaws and found her lacking. She was afraid they would discover the girls in the bathroom had been right all along, she was a freak and her scars were disgusting. Finally after some coaxing from both of them, she confessed the incident.
“You’ve had too much to drink,” Nico said, “and those bitches don’t know what they’re talking about.”
“I agree, I think you’re feeling overly emotional. There’s no reason for anyone to get to you,” Dimitri said, “I think you’re beautiful…I know you’re beautiful. They were jealous of your beauty, I can guarantee it. Some people think they’ll prop up their own fragile egos by tearing at others.”
“They’re right though, and I’m not that drunk anymore,” she said, her face streaked with tears. “I want to get them fixed, Dimi, can we get them fixed?”
“We’ve already seen the best dermatologist in Hong Kong, you know they can’t do much with them,” he told her, “and besides, you know I love them. Scars are not a disfigurement, they are a sign telling the world that you fucking survived whatever it was that tried to kill you.” He traced his finger along the raised ridges of her arms. “Wear these proudly, little dove, for they announce to the entire fucking planet that you are strong, you are determined and you will fucking destroy them if they try to destroy you first.”
She smiled and felt her tears begin to dry. The bathroom door opened a few feet away and Columbia spotted the girls who had spoken behind her back. She looked away, hoping they wouldn’t notice her. She grabbed her stole from Nico and hastily drew it around her shoulders, hoping to hide herself from them.
“Are those the girls?” Nico asked with a fire in his eyes.
Columbia didn’t say anything, but she saw recognition on his face. She didn’t have to say anything; he knew by her reaction that they were the ones.
“I’ll fucking kill them,” Dimitri said and stepped towards them.
“Not now,” Nico said, “you can’t hurt them for being ignorant little cunts. Let me talk to them.”
Dimitri was tense, poised to strike. Columbia was aware of the tension in his body, his muscles were taught with his need to protect her. “Don’t bother you guys,” she said and tugged at Dimitri’s arm, “can we please just go home?”
Dimitri softened when he sensed her need. He smiled, leaned to kiss her and said, “Of course we can.” She hooked her arm in his, but caught him turn and raise his brows at Nico. The other man took off his mask and strode towards the girls who were almost at the entrance to the party.
“What is he doing?” Columbia asked, alarmed.
“Nothing to hurt them.” Dimitri said, “physically, that is. They won’t forget this night for a long time though, and they will never speak out like that again if I know my friend.”
They stopped to watch Nico. He approached the three of them, and of course they turned to chat. He was a devastatingly handsome man when he wasn’t focused on his household duties or shaping Columbia into a competent fighter.
Their faces lit up and they instantly started preening, flirting and laughing. The three girls were eating up his attention and Columbia couldn’t help the jealousy she felt at his easy flirtations. In a moment, their faces changed, they grew serious and they began to glance nervously in Columbia’s direction.
“What do you think he’s telling them?” she asked.
Dimitri pulled her into his arms, facing away from him. “I couldn’t even begin to guess,” he replied, “but knowing Nico, it will be devastating.”
The girls now looked like they were going to cry. One of them was speaking words of protest, but Nico slashed the air with his hand and ended the conversation. As he walked away, the three girls started talking loudly to each other, their hand gestures angry and tense.
“What the hell did you say?” Columbia asked as he returned.
“I told them, ‘both of you look amazing tonight.’ I thought I’d leave them to argue over which two I meant,” he said and winked. Columbia laughed and didn’t believe him, but she didn’t think she’d ever get the truth out of him.
She felt safe, her Dimi holding her close as they left the party and her faithful friend ready to kick ass for her.
It might not be exactly normal, but it was exactly what she needed.
Chapter Eight
A week after the party, Columbia was finally shaking the after effects of the incident with the girls. They were planning on leaving in thirteen days and she had fallen into a bit of a depression. The anxiety of their uncertain future coupled with her battered self esteem lead to long days spent laying in bed with a book, or listless practice with Dimitri and Nico.
It seemed to be passing though, and she’d spent the day researching the Island of Malta. She thought it might be the exact kind of place she could live, especially with Dimitri.
She was soaking in the massive master bathtub when Dimitri found her. “I need your input,” he said, ignoring the fact that she was trying to have a moment alone. “For the house in Malta, do you want it more of a-,” he started, then paused and reached for his phone. He began to read from something, obviously a text or an email, “mid century vibe or a French farmhouse rustic feel?”
She furrowed her brows, looked at him and said, “What the heck are you talking about?”
“I don’t know, I was hoping you would,” he replied and ran his hand over his head. “It’s the designer for our new home, he has all these questions and I never know how to answer. Nico usually takes care of this for me, but he’s insisting that our little queen design her new palace to her exact specifications.”
She sighed and smiled, “Tell Nico that I said I don’t care, whatever he wants is fine with me. I love what he’s done with the two penthouses I’ve seen, so he has design carte blanche.”
“He will be pleased,” Dimitri told her, “he might not seem like it, but he’s very particular about his surroundings. Thank you.” He leaned and kissed her forehead and left her alone again.
She smiled at the thought of these two grown men, killers and by all appearances deadly and unrelenting, fretting over what she would think about the furniture. She was starting to feel like his little queen, if only she could carry this feeling with her when they went outside into the cruel world.
She slid down under the water and felt her tension leave. Her scars stood out against her skin, the heat of the water bringing them into sharp definition, but she didn’t mind them right now. She was beginning to look forward to their next move, and the girls in the bathroom no longer echoed in her head.
A memory flitted through her head, the first bath she’d had at Dimitri’s penthouse. She had dumped all the expensive bath products down the drain in some kind of childish retaliation. It made her laugh now, to think of it. She thought about her desperation to remove her cuffs back then, and now she was free to take them off whenever she wanted, but often chose to leave them on. She glanced at them on the counter and felt some comfort in knowing they were there to always remind her of the commitment he’d made to her. Most women seemed to pant after a diamond ring, she got wet at the sight of her bindings. She didn’t see anything wrong with that; it made her perfect for her Dimi.
She got out, dried off and prepared for bed. She dressed in a push up bra and little panties, a matching pink and black set he’d ordered her from some Parisian boutique. She almost regretted it, as she was sure he’d tear it off her at some point. She knew he had something planned for tonight and clasped her collar around her neck to please him. It wasn’t just to protect her while she slept; lately she’d been more and more intrigued at the idea of him using it when he tied her up. It had been much too long since they played that way.
She added her wrist cuffs and stood back to appraise herself in the mirror. She looked gorgeous, her skin was smooth and supple in the parts not covered by scars, and even her scars had a majestic beauty in her eyes tonight.
She didn’t want to spoil his plan by showing her own planning, so she shrugged into a thick bathrobe and pulled it tight. She walked to her dressing table to choose her scent for the evening. She sat down in the elegant little chair and considered asking to bring it along. It had once belonged to French aristocracy, or so she’d been told, and she did feel like a queen when seated here.
She read the labels on each of her perfume bottles, trying to decide which one would compliment their night to come. She was reaching for her old favourite, a simple Chanel, when movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention.
She assumed it was Dimitri, but something tweaked at the edge of her consciousness. She froze and assessed the situation as Nico had taught her. An unknown man was rushing her as she sat at her table. Trained to not react and use that time to plan her next move, she didn’t look up but prepared herself for his attack.
He jumped her from behind, a little to the left. He must have known that this would be the weakest side for most of the population as Nico had taught her. She ducked at the last second, kicked over the chair, leapt up and spun to meet him face to face.
He wasn’t tall, not even six feet, but he still towered over her. He was muscular and dressed in tight fitting clothing, black jeans and a black turtleneck. He was white, but Columbia couldn’t tell his precise background, there was nothing distinguishing about him.
“Who are you?” she asked and looked him up and down, searching for a weakness and buying time.
He didn’t answer; he circled her slowly, low down on his bent legs with his arms out. His lip was curled in a snarl, but he was wordless.
“Who sent you?” she demanded, but she already knew. Dimitri was testing her again and she was very fucking annoyed. She thought what she’d picked up all day was some exciting sex play, when in reality he was setting her up like he did with the man in the market. “You can go back and tell him that I’m not fucking interested in playing. You go tell him he’s an asshole and to get back here and fuck me, not fuck with me.”
He looked surprised and glanced over his shoulder towards the door. Just the slightest movement of his head, but it was enough for Columbia to strike. She thanked her lucky stars that she was wearing a loose fitting robe and hadn’t chosen a tight fitting floor length negligée or something else impractical.
She lunged towards him and hooked the back of his knee with her foot, his leg collapsed under him and he dropped to the ground. She darted back and moved back in to kick his face. A black eye might make Dimitri think twice about sending men after her.
He was fast and ready for her. He grabbed her foot as she kicked and yanked her towards him. She was immediately set off balance and stumbled in his direction. He reached for her calf and she brought her other leg down on his free hand. She felt the bones move under her foot and cursed her decision to not wear her heels. She would have gotten more satisfaction sending Dimitri’s man back with a crushed bone or two.
“Fucking give it up,” she said and pulled as hard as she could to free her foot. She succeeded, but lost her footing in the mean time. He rolled away from her, jumped to his feet in one swift motion and turned back her way.
“I’m not in the mood,” she told him and backed away, towards the master bath. “Go tell him this is not funny.” She kept inching towards the open door and thought for a moment he was going to turn and leave. He seemed confused by the happenings.
He said something in a foreign language. Columbia wasn’t sure what language it was, but the intent was clear: he wasn’t going anywhere.
She sighed and stood her ground. A full three minutes of what she thought was the most ridiculous game of chicken was fraying her nerves and pissing her off. She wanted to smash this idiot’s nose in, and then go find Dimitri and do the same.
She thought about calling for help, to get Dimitri and Nico riled up thinking she was outmatched. It would end things at least and allow her to crawl into bed as she had intended, but she wasn’t sure she’d be fucking Dimi like she’d planned.
Who was she kidding; she’d still fuck him silly, but wouldn’t submit to him in any way, shape or form tonight. The bastard.
He was fast though, faster than she had anticipated. He tackled her before she’d gone two steps and she fell with a loud grunt. He rattled off something in his language, she thought she recognized Greek. Nico was Greek, it sounded similar to his phone calls home. Her face snapped forward and made contact with the floor. She was in the right spot for it though, landing on a soft hand-woven thick silk rug.
She felt dizzy momentarily, but it passed as she rolled onto her back and kicked at him. She made contact as he crawled up her body to pin her down. She felt a satisfying crack as her foot struck his ribcage. It wouldn’t be broken, but she knew it would hurt.
“Fuck off,” she said and scrambled backwards, almost freeing herself from his grasp. He replied and laughed, a cruel and heavy sound indicating he had devious plans for her if he could ever get a good hold on her.
That one cruel sound made her hackles rise and she decided she wanted to win this fight. She wouldn’t be mocked by some hired thug, and she wouldn’t let Dimitri know how much this annoyed and offended her. She kicked as hard as she could, once again cursing her decision for comfort over some kick ass heels tonight. She paddled her feet hard and fast, like the first time she hit the water at the Kits pool as a kid. Somehow she struck flesh and made contact with his face. She brought her other foot up and cracked his nose, blood pouring forth instantaneously.
He bellowed something in his language. Greek, she was certain it was Greek. He dragged his fingers down her calf and drew blood of his own; his long nails scraped her skin as he gouged her. It stung, but the pain didn’t register. For somebody like Columbia, pain was an old friend, and god knew she could handle more than most.