Nine

  We hear tapping at the door. Trig opens it and we both exit. An older woman standing there gives us a dirty look. We walk back to our seats, and with luck, no one has taken our four bags of cash. I bend down and look at the tags on the bag. He really did write diarrhea medicine on them. As if someone would really need four duffel bags of that. I glance over at him.

  “See? I told you. Totally safe.”

  We settle back into the seats for a long flight, one in which I plan to consume several glasses of wine. The flight attendant has already brought me my first round. I slam it back and wave her over for another. Time passes and soon enough my glass has emptied three times. I feel the alcohol kick in. Trig and me start discussing Fiji and how he watched this documentary and it looked unbelievable. I tell him it’s a place I’ve always wanted to go to. We both start to become somewhat excited about landing, and suddenly my mind is busy. I notice that I don’t feel pain when my mind is going. It’s when my brain slows down that I’m at my worst. For the next several hours, I’ll only cry alone in the bathroom every time I take that picture out of my pocket. I’ll shed tears and teeter on the edge of a breakdown when I see her smiling face looking back at me, because this is all that I have left of her. It’s all that remains. Just two girls in one tiny photo. We look happy in it. That was us at our best. It was the day that we moved into our house. It was the best day of our lives. When I look at this picture I’ll remember every storm we weathered, and as hard as it is, I’ll force myself to exist. I’ll seek strength in her smile when I feel weak. It’s crucial I push myself to keep going, because that’s who I am. A fighter. A survivor. And Jenny, she wouldn’t have let me give up.

  ***

  Eleven hours later, we finally arrive in Fiji at the Nadi airport. We quickly make our way through the crowds of people. These bags feel heavier than before, and it’s probably because we’re both exhausted from the long flight. The liquor in my system has faded and now I’m left with an empty feeling. I haven’t said a word for hours. Trig stops and looks around.

  “We need a cab, but I’ll have to exchange some money for Fiji currency to pay for things here.” He points to a row of seats. “I know you’re tired. Take a seat.”

  I do just that. I plop down and watch Trig at the counter. The girl behind the desk helping him is smiling at him, and batting her eyelashes. I feel something unfamiliar inside. I feel anger, watching her flirt. I know that look she’s giving him, and I don’t like it. Damn it. I’m jealous. This isn’t me. I don’t get jealous, so I turn and look the other way. It only takes two seconds for me to whip my head back to look at the both of them. Now he’s laughing, and she’s laughing, and I hate watching this interaction. She flips her hair to the side and leans over the counter, exposing her cleavage to him. I’m not sitting here while he’s over there chatting it up with Beyoncé. I lug my two bags over and drop them loudly on the floor next to Trig.

  “Something funny?” I say.

  My tone is cold and dry, and my looks could definitely kill. Trig looks at me. He’s still smiling.

  “She was just correcting me on my use of certain words here.”

  I look at little Miss Beyoncé who is even more beautiful up close. She raises a challenging eyebrow at me as she hands Trig money.

  “Isn’t your job to exchange currency?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she replies with attitude.

  “Then stop throwing yourself at men, and do your damn job, bitch.”

  “Excuse me?” she says with disgust.

  “You heard me.”

  Trig puts his hand over my mouth and grabs the money from her.

  “Thank you,” he says.

  He pushes me forward and then picks up his two bags. I walk ahead of him mad, and I’m not even sure why. We locate a taxi outside and hop in.

  “Is there a nice hotel close by?” Trig asks the driver.

  “Royal Hotel. It’s beautiful. You’ll love it.”

  “Great. Take us there.”

  I sit in the cab, staring forward with my arms folded.

  “Nine,” Trig says. I ignore him. “Nine,” He repeats again.

  I turn my head and stare at him.

  “What was that back there?”

  I shake my head. I’m a little embarrassed at my actions. I really don’t even know why I did that. It’s so unlike me. I’m at a loss for words.

  “I don’t know,” I say.

  “Are you jealous, Nine?” He smirks.

  “Of Beyoncé back there? No.”

  He laughs hard and holds his chest.

  “You think this is funny, don’t you?” I frown, and scoot away from him.

  “Come here.” He pulls me close to him against my will. I’m pulling my face as far away as possible, and yet he has now managed to squish me into his chest.

  “I didn’t come to Fiji with you to pick up on other girls.”

  “No, you came here to escape. Now that you’re free, you can be whom you want to be, and do what you want to do. Your new life doesn’t have to include me.”

  I push away from him. Trig just turns and smiles out the window.

  “What?” I say.

  “I think you’re cute when you’re jealous. Your face gets all scrunched up, and your eyes become squinty. You look like a pissed off squirrel.”

  “Oh my god. Did you just say that?”

  Trig laughs again. “Stop. We’re in beautiful Fiji, and I’m sitting in a taxi with a beautiful woman on the way to a beautiful hotel. Can we just enjoy this for a while?”

  Of course, I can’t count on a hitman to have sympathy. I’m still grieving and he’s acting like nothing happened. I stay quiet until we pull up at the hotel. It’s actual quite breathtaking. We go inside in hopes of reserving a room.

  “I’d like a room, please,” Trig says to the hotel clerk.

  “One bed or two?”

  “One,” Trig says

  “Two,” I correct him.

  The woman looks back and forth at us.

  “One,” Trig repeats, and smiles at the woman.

  He looks back at me. I squint my eyes at him. The clerk reads off some prices and then she asks him for a credit card.

  “I lost my card, but I have cash and I’d like to pre-pay for the room for a month, maybe more.” The girl hesitates. “There is a hundred dollar tip in it for you if you book this room, right now.”

  “I’ll need you to fill this out and I’ll need to see your I.D.”

  “Deal,” Trig winks at her.

  The girl smiles as she waits. He slides her the paperwork, and then she starts typing into the computer. She pulls out two cards and gives them to, Trig. Trig then takes a chunk of money out, counts it, and slides it to her.

  “Your room is on the bottom floor, straight down the hall on your right.”

  We walk through the center of the hotel and pass the elevators. I see our room number. Trig opens the door and we both step in.

  “Damn this is nice,” he says.

  I stroll around, examining the room and opening closets. I then walk over to the window, which faces the pool. I can see the ocean not too far off in the distance. It’s beautiful. I look around at the courtyard to spot several groups of happy people standing around, drinks in hand, and I can’t stand it. I’m depressed, and as bad as it is, I want them to share in my misery. No one knows the pain in my heart except Trig.

  “I’m going to take a shower and doctor up this wound. Make yourself comfortable.”

  “Oh, you’re not worried that I might sneak off when you’re occupied in the bathroom.”

  “I don’t want you to go, but I don’t want to keep you against your will either. We’re safe here. You can make the choice to stay with me or to walk away. I’ll leave you to make that decision.”

  He walks toward the bathroom. I hear him turn on the water and then he closes the door. I slip out of my heels and sit down on the edge of the bed. I could just grab a bag of money and dip out, but where would I go? Do I eve
n want to leave? If I left right now, I’d leave him, and that would mean that he’s risked it all for nothing. I fall back against the bed.

  That day at the cabin flashes through my head. I remember his lips on my skin and his eyes staring through me. I remember yelling out ‘I love you’ to him, and the way his hand sat over my heart. Trig is my oxygen. He gives me air when I feel like I’m drowning. I suddenly sit up and exhale.

  It hits me that we don’t have any clothes to change into. I spring up from the bed and walk over to the bathroom door. I knock.

  “Do you need some new clothes?”

  “What?” he yells.

  “Do you need some new clothes?” I yell louder.

  “I can’t hear you,” he shouts.

  “I’m coming in,” I say.

  The bathroom is semi-foggy, and Trig is standing inside a glass shower. I turn around.

  “Do you need new clothes? I could try to find a store around here,” I shout.

  “I still can’t hear you,” he says.

  He opens the shower door. I swing around at the noise. He fingers for me to walk closer. Trig is ass naked, with water dripping down his toned body. I’m now gawking at him. I walk closer.

  “What did you say?”

  “I um…thought you could use some new clothes. I could go shopping.” I point to the door.

  He reaches his hand out and slowly pulls me into the shower. I hesitate for a moment but with him looking so damn good, I’m now fighting the desires of the flesh, and I’m losing.

  “I don’t need clothes for what I’m about to do,” he says.

  He backs me up against the stream of water. My entire outfit and hair are wet now.

  “Is that right?” I ask.

  “I see you’re still here.”

  “I couldn’t make up my mind,” I lie.

  “That’s interesting. Well, in that case, I’d like to help you make a final decision.”

  He strips off my vest, and tank top, and then he unbuttons my shorts.

  “There’s just one problem. I don’t have any condoms,” he says, as his hands find their way to the brim of my panties.

  “That’s gonna be a problem,” I reply, as his face comes close to mine.

  “I want you,” he moans against my neck.

  His lips rush to taste my skin and it feels good. I slide my hand down and wrap it around his cock. I turn my head to the side, away from the water, and then I notice his injured arm. A deep red hole marks his skin. I can see small fragments of flesh. I release my hand from him.

  “Does that still hurt badly?

  “My arm? It’s really sore. Especially from having to carry one of those bags on that side.”

  He pulls back, and looks at me.

  “Maybe you should rest up,” I say.

  “I already told you what I want, and it’s not rest.”

  His fingertips follow the water droplets down my skin from my neck to my stomach. He lowers his hand down into my panties. I hold my breath for a second as the sensation jolts me. I’m scared to do this again. An escort scared of sex. How ironic is that? It’s not just the sex. It’s him. It’s what he does to me, and how he makes me feel. I become totally submissive under his touch, and I lose control. I begin to feel things that are not permitted, but I need these things to breathe.

  “It’s hard to tell in all this water, but if you’re as wet as I think you are, then it’s safe to say you want this.”

  He takes my hand and places it on his chest. I can see him reading my body language.

  “You don’t have to be scared of me. We both need an escape from all of that pain.”

  His hands search my body. I close my eyes and tilt my head back. The water runs down my face.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful, Nine. I wanna feel you on the inside.”

  I’m breathless, and the more he keeps talking, the more I just want to sit on his face. I bring my head up and place my lips on his chest. I run my tongue from his chest tattoos up to his neck tattoo. This boy makes me want to fuck him ten ways to Friday. I wish he’d just put it in me already.

  “I’m clean. I get tested a lot,” I blurt out.

  “Are you saying what I think you are?”

  “You could maybe…” I can’t even bring myself to say it.

  “Pull out?” he questions.

  “Yeah.”

  Wait! Where did that come from? Did I just give him the okay to enter me bareback? Yup. I did. I’m just so uncontrollably horny that common sense has taken a backseat until further notice. I can’t believe I’m okay with this. He pulls my shorts and panties down. Finally, I come to my senses again. I yank on his good arm. He looks up.

  “I never let my clients go raw, ever.”

  “I’m not your client,” he says.

  “That’s not what I meant. I just—”

  He pushes me against the glass and bites my lip. His hands are all over me and I’m all over him.

  I stop and push him back. He looks at me.

  “I can’t do this,” I say.

  “You can’t, or you don’t want to?”

  “I want to. It’s just not a good idea to do this with you.”

  Trig steps back and looks at me weird.

  “This is embarrassing for me. It really is, but if I don’t say something or do something about it, I think I might go crazy.”

  Trig crosses his arms and waits. I can’t believe I’m about to say this.

  “I feel things for you. Strong things, like deep down in my gut type things. I spent so many years fucking men for money. No strings. No attachments. I was walking around like a zombie, just numb. You show up and all of a sudden, I’m drowning in feelings. I’m cuddling you, kissing you and having orgasms, and shouting out shit that doesn’t even make any sense, given our relationship. It’s been like what? A week? Things like this are not supposed to happen.”

  Trig’s face hasn’t even moved. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t blinked either.

  “Today I got jealous because a girl was talking to you, and now I’m all ready for you to hit it raw. I don’t know what a normal relationship is, but this can’t be it. This thing we have is twisted. It ain’t right, Trig.”

  “Who says?”

  “Me.”

  “I like you, Nine.” He steps forward. “And if that’s twisted then call me a sick fuck,”

  He’s got me backed against the glass again.

  “What are we? This thing we do, what is it?”

  He gently places his hand over my heart.

  “Do you want to put a label on it? Would that make you feel better? Maybe then you could stop making client references toward me.”

  “I can’t leave it stagnant. I need to process or delete these thoughts. What. Are. We?” I repeat again.

  Trig cocks his head back. He’s calm and collected.

  “Do you plan on fucking anybody else while you’re here with me?” he asks.

  His hands drop to my waist. I don’t even need to think about it.

  “No.”

  “Why not?” he questions.

  “Because...I’m with you,” I finally say.

  He nods. “You’re with me. Listen to what you just said.” He bends down and gives me a kiss. “Baby, you’re mine.”

  I don’t exactly know what that means, but it sounds good to my ears. I fire back at him.

  “And you? Do you plan on fucking any other girls while you’re here with me?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “Because…I’m with you,” he says, exactly the way I said it.

  He kisses me again.

  “And what does that mean?” Trig asks.

  I grin, and let my head fall back against the glass, as he lifts one of my legs up.

  “I’m not saying it.”

  “Come on. I know you want to.”

  I moan as he kisses my neck.

  “I won’t say it.”

  “What does it mean if I’m
not fucking any other girls, Nine. You’re it. Process that info now.” He groans against my ear.

  I gasp as he grips my hips.

  “Baby, you’re mine,” I say.

  “Then show me that you want me,” Trig responds. He backs up and grabs his cock. I drop to my knees.

  Chapter 8. Captain Save A Hoe

  “Do you want me to lotion your back?” Trig asks. “You’re getting red.”

  I can already see the hunger in his eyes.

  “No. You stay over there. Every time you touch me, we end up having sex.”

  He laughs while he takes a sip of his beer.

  “I don’t see the problem in that.”

  “I can’t feel my vagina. There is definitely a problem,”

  “Well, you should be glad I have the remedy.”

  He places one hand on his member. I set my cocktail down on the table.

  “Your dick is not medicine.” I smirk.

  He laughs and sits up from his pool chair.

  “I disagree. It’s treating your symptoms pretty damn well. We took your stitches out and now I can give it to you just how you want it. Rough.”

  “Ha ha. Very funny.”

  We both look out at the pool water. It’s so serene here.

  “This place is gorgeous,” Trig says. “It’s everything I ever imagined.”

  I remain silent. He’s right. It’s amazing. I just don’t know how to sit here and not do anything. It’s been two weeks since we got here, and it’s been great, aside from the arguing. We’ve done things that actual couples do. We’ve gone shopping for clothes, and other necessities. We’ve walked on the beach. We’ve been out to dinner. We’ve stayed in the hotel for days and made love, but I’m not use to this. I don’t want to seem ungrateful for Trig and everything he’s done for me, but letting him pamper me with money that will eventually run out is alarming. I was selling my body for years to live a comfortable life, now I’m sitting poolside in one of the most visually beautiful places on the planet, next to a man who turns me on with just the touch of his finger, and I can’t stop thinking about being provided for. I worry about money, and it’s something that I’ll always do because of my past.