The Life She Wished For (Birds of Paradise Book 2)

by ChaShiree M.

  What I do not expect is for her to start talking without provocation.

  “It started when I was seven years old. We called him OMO, which meant ‘Old man Olaf.’ He was a weird old man, a member of the compound, but weird nonetheless. He had a thick accent. From where I am not sure, but I knew he wasn’t from the U.S.” She stops talking for a second and looks over her shoulder slightly. Her next words almost knock the wind out of me. “As a matter of fact, his accent is sort of like yours. Weird. Right.” I hold my breath hoping against all hope that she doesn’t ask me anything else. When she rolls back over and continues, I continue breathing

  “He would sneer and be mean to the boys. But with the girls, he paid a lot of attention to them. When I turned seven, he started paying more attention to me than to the other girls. He never touched me or anything, at first. One day that all changed.”

  I am seething even though it is the beginning of the story, because I know where it is leading. However, as soon as she says the name ‘Olaf’ and starts talking about accents, I swear I hear buzzing in my ears. My heart starts jackhammering in my chest. I’m pretty sure I break out in a full on sweat. I peek at her to see if she notices, as she is facing away from me. I know I am supposed to be listening, but I can’t help but panic.

  I mean it can’t be, right? What are the odds the old weird pedophile is my birth father? The only thing the orphanage knew when they took me in was my father’s name. Which is common, since it is considered your familial name. His name is Olaf Mikhailov.

  Maybe, I have a latent PTSD. That’s a thing. Right? Could I have developed a response where his name sends me into a tailspin? What are the odds he would be in an American cult, stalking young girls?

  Mikhail. Dude. You have got to pull yourself together. Your woman is dealing with issues and all you can think about is yourself? Bang up job you’re doing right now. Way to be everything she needs.

  “My father has a closet he put the kids in for punishment when they were disobedient. He never did this to my sisters and I, until the day he did.”

  “Once he kicked my brothers out of the compound, he became increasingly more mean and tyrannical. He actually started h-hitting us, which he never used to do.”

  “O-one day when I was only nine, after Fae ran away he was convinced I knew where she went. Though, I didn’t know.”

  Her shoulders are shaking, alerting me to the fact she is back to crying. I want to tell her to stop talking, it doesn’t matter. She needs to forget about it, but I know that is unrealistic. She needs to talk about what happened and get it out. I do the only thing I can, and I get into bed with her. Her back is to my front with my arms wrapped around her, so she knows she is safe and is simply telling something that happened in the past.

  After a couple of minutes, she takes a deep breath and continues.

  “He dragged me into the dark closet with no windows and locked me in there. I cried and begged him all the way there not to do this. Telling him I didn’t know, but he wouldn’t believe me. He said, maybe with some time to myself, I would remember what I seem to have forgotten.”

  “I remember sitting in that dark place. Trying to figure out how I was going to get myself out. I went from being scared, too angry at Fae for leaving and not telling us anything, back to being scared out my mind.”

  “Not sure how much time had passed when I heard someone coming down the stairs. I started to get happy thinking it was my dad coming to let me out. When the door opened however, it was OMO.”

  “Baby, why don’t you stop? You don’t have to tell me anymore. Let’s get up and go downstairs and grab something to eat. We can watch a movie, take a bath, and snuggle. How does that sound?”

  “I appreciate what you are trying to do Mikhail, but I have never told anyone this and I think it is finally time. I will never be free from my nightmares or my past if I keep it inside. Can I?”

  My brave, brave, Myshka. She turns around to look at me, and though her eyes are red, swollen, and glassy from the tears, she is the most beautiful woman I have seen in my life.

  I wish I could take all of this away and make it, so it never happened. But I can’t. As much as I want her to never think about this again, I think she may be right. She must get it out and I am humbled that she chose me out of everyone she knows.

  “Ok baby. Finish telling me. The minute you feel the need for a break, please stop and we will do something else and talk about something else. Ok?”

  She nods her head while snuggling into my chest. That move alone, reminds me what an innocent treasure I have within my grasp. It reminds me not to take it for granted. To remove my last remaining enemies, before they take all I hold dear away from me.

  “Although I was shocked to see him, I didn’t fret about it too much. My father was always sending people to do things for him, I figured he didn’t have time to get me himself. I waited for a second for Olaf to lead me out, but he just kept staring at me. It felt like he did this forever. I kept thinking how I preferred the dark to this, but since he brought a lantern in with him, I had no choice but to look at him. Then finally he spoke.”

  “Well well well, little Phoenix. We finally have alone time to get better acquainted. I’ve watched you, you know? I watch all the other girls but, you little Phoenix are special. I have always had a thing for redheads. You are going to be a beautiful little ginger-headed slut, aren’t you?”

  “I had no idea what he was talking about. Whatever it was, I knew it wasn’t good. I asked him if my dad sent him and he told me no.”

  “No little girl. No one knows I’m here. I needed to come and see you up close and personal…finally!!!”

  “I asked him what he wanted, and he said, ‘in time, all will be revealed.’ Whatever the heck that meant.”

  “The next thing I knew, he walks closer to me and proceeds to stick his hand under my shirt. I-I–I didn’t know what he was d-doing at first-t. When he started playing with the nipples I could barely breathe. I knew what was happening wasn’t supposed to happen, but I didn’t know what else to do. We were shut in a soundproof room, with no windows, no light, and no help for me. I began to cry and ask him to stop. Do you know what he said?”

  Fuck! I want this to end already. Not her need to tell me, but the story itself. She is snorting and sniffling and fuck all I can do about it. It drives me out of my goddamn mind, that I can’t fix this for her. I didn’t realize I put a hole in the pillowcase until I hear it rip.

  “Relax love. Take deep breaths and wait a second before you continue. You’re getting worked up and I don’t want you to make yourself sick.”

  “I was sick a long time Mikhail. But in you, I think I found my cure.”

  Well shit!!

  When Mikhail looks at me the way he is now, I swear I can conquer anything. He looks at me like I am the moon, stars and everything to him. His eyes though fierce at times, are filled with such tenderness and adoration that I am not always sure it is I who should be on the receiving end.

  When he said he loved me, I could feel my heart begin to beat. The rhythm is steady and not filled with trepidation or fear. It is with the knowledge that he will protect me, I am able to face and tell my story. Hopefully I will move on…lord willing with him.

  I inhale a lungful of his scent to calm and fortify myself to continue my story.

  “He said if he didn’t get what he wanted from me, he would get it from my mom. Then my dad would kill her for l-letting another man touch her. I couldn’t let my mom die…could I? So, I closed my eyes and cried. He unzipped his pants and did his business with one hand, while fondling me with the other.”

  “I remember the grunting sounds and the wet noises his penis made as he was stroking it. He kept asking me how good it was. Was he seriously so sick in his mind, he imagined I liked that? I never answered him, but then again, I didn’t have to. It was more a question he was asking himself anyway.”

  “When he finished, he zipped his pants, called me a good gi
rl, and once again left me in the darkness. I prayed that would be the only time. Apparently, prayers are futile. It continued from there and got progressively worse.”

  I am literally reliving it in my head as I tell Mikhail about the horrid period in my life. I would love nothing more than to stop. I am not sure how to explain the need and urgency to exorcise these demons now. However, I feel at the end of this story, I will be reborn and maybe a different me. I wonder if I had done this sooner, maybe with my sisters, I would not have depended on them so extensively.

  “Baby, you are tired and hungry I’m sure. Why don’t we stop for the night and pick this up some other time?”

  “No. Mikhail. Don’t you see? This is my cleansing. I have felt dirty and unworthy my whole life, since this started happening to me. I blamed myself for not telling, for not stopping him and I need to get this out. You have no idea how many times I have taken 10-20 showers in succession trying to wash the dirt from body, so I can finally feel clean. My skin was scrubbed raw till it began to bleed, and I couldn’t see my family for weeks. They would see the scabs and ask what happened. My God Mikhail, I can’t tell them the shame I feel that I let him do this to me. The shame I feel knowing, somehow, I led him o-o-on.”

  I am falling apart crying and cannot bring myself to get it together at this point. In this moment it feels like I am being ripped open and the deepest darkest part of me is exposed, while someone is pouring salt on the wound. But it’s true. No one is that sick they must do this to a child. Are they? I mean, I had to have done something that told him I wanted it. Right?

  In my head I know this is not correct. I have been going to therapy for years and get the concept. But bringing it all up right now, has split me raw and maybe, just maybe, this is the final phase in the healing process. If only I could stop rocking back and forth to reach for him. Being in his arms will bring me back.

  “M-mi-Mikhail, help me plea…”

  “Baby, wake up. Come on Phoenix. Please look at me. I need to see your beautiful gold eyes. Myshka, look at me. Please baby, your making me nuts. My heart was not meant to sustain something happening to you, so please wake up.”

  Those are the beautiful words I wake up to. As beautiful as they are, I am confused as to why I am on the floor in the first place.

  “What happened?”

  Even to my own ears I can hear how hoarse I sound. When I finally look at him, he has tears in his eyes and looking at me with concern and love. The tension in his jaw suggest he is angry about something. I know I should reassure him I am ok, but at this vantage point I can see so much.

  This man who is quickly becoming everything to me, is so beautiful. He has chiseled cheekbones that speak of power and hardness. His lips are a juxtaposition to that because they are full and luscious. I love that he is clean-shaven. Facial hair on a man doesn’t do it for me.

  Though his eyes are dark, I can see a gold circle around the iris, making me believe he has a lot of hidden layers to his soul. His shoulders are broad and muscular but not overtly brawny. The curious thing about him, above all else though, are the tattoos that cover most of his chest. I want more than anything to ask about them, but I will save that for another time. Especially the one above his heart of a bird. I can’t quite make it out, but it’s gold and red.

  Should I be getting turned on right now? Because I so am. I can feel my pussy clenching, missing his invasion inside of me. If I was not down here looking up, I would have jumped him.

  “Are you done ogling me little nymph?”

  Holy shit!!! He noticed that, huh? I feel the heat on my face, but from this position I don’t have the luxury of hiding my face in embarrassment, though I feel none. This man belongs to me.

  ME!!!

  The empowerment I feel knowing that is undeniable and something I have never felt. I am also sure I will never again, from anything else in my life.

  “Yes. I’m done.” Ooo, apparently, I have a cheeky side too. This is going to be fun finding the hidden parts of myself.

  “You scared me Phoenix. Are you ok? Head hurt? Anything else hurt?”

  “Nope. But what happened?”

  “You were telling me about your past and started to cry and scream. I think it was too much for you. You passed out. About took 10 years off my life baby. I blame myself. I knew we should have stopped long before and taken a break. But I didn’t want to push you away, by asserting myself too soon. It won’t happen again. Look at me Phoenix.”

  Oh boy. Why did he have to take that tone? My poor panties. Squish.

  I look at him and he is serious. Why does that turn me on? Am I messed up? Did what happened to me, make me this way, where I need a man tell me what to do? Does it make me weak? I hope not because I really think Mikhail is what is good for me. If I am messed up, does that mean I have to walk away from him?

  “My father used to tell me ‘Begin as you want to go on Mikhail. If you follow that in every aspect of your life, it will never fail you.’ Well my Myshka, that is what we are going to do now. From this moment forward, I will do what it is my job to do. Protect you. Even from yourself. I know you need to get it out and I will listen and hold you while you tell it. But, when I think you have emotionally reached your quota for the day, you will stop, and we will move on to something else until next time.”

  “Do you understand?”

  Holy hot sauce!!!! He is everything I wanted. I don’t know how I got lucky, but I will not turn away from such a gift. Even if it means there is something wrong with me, I don’t care. I will be sick with him if it means… if it means I get to keep him.

  So, I look at the man of my dreams and decide to jump off this cliff and hope I land in his arms.

  “I understand, Mikhail.”

  Holy fuck!!!!

  When she reached for me, it was the single most precious moment in my life. It shows her trust and need for me is given freely. It felt completely amazing and overwhelming. However, when it is followed by her falling to the floor unconscious, I lost my damn mind.

  What the fuck!!!

  I almost yelled for the Twins to come and help. But then I looked at her state of undress and couldn’t bear for them to see her like this. Kneeling on the floor with her, I check to see if she is still breathing to determine if it is safe to coax her awake. Shit. It is the longest minutes of my life as I am waiting for her to come around.

  While she is out, I am scared out of my mind and I keep thinking, ‘Mikhail it’s time to take charge and take care of your woman.’ I decide to tell her exactly that, now that her eyes are open, and she stops looking at me like I am a holiday feast. Besides, I shouldn’t touch her now; because the situation is highly inappropriate.

  “Ok baby, let’s get up off the floor slowly. Then you can tell me how you feel.”

  I help her up by holding onto her hips to keep her steady, in the event she gets dizzy again. I cannot take two pass outs in one night. Otherwise, we will have a fucking Romeo and Juliet situation on our hands.

  “How do you feel? Any dizziness or a headache?”

  “I don’t feel dizzy as much as a little light-headed. My head hurts a little, but nothing a little aspirin won’t fix.” She says quietly.

  Her stomach lets out a growl as I am about to answer and I remember, with all the stuff going on I never got around to feeding her. Way to take your job seriously Mikhail. Fucking up already.

  “I guess I should probably eat something too huh?” She says with pink cheeks. She is fucking adorable.

  “Myshka, I am going to lay you down and then throw a casserole in the oven that Greta left in the freezer. I have a little business to take care of while it is baking. I will be back when the casserole is done. Here watch tv.” I hand her the remote control before moving to stand back.

  “No falling asleep baby. And I will come back to check on you in a few. Do not move from this bed. If you need to get up for anything, press the button here on this remote and it will alert me. Do you understand Phoenix?�
�� I look directly at her for an answer.

  She looks at me with wide Bambi eyes. All of this is overwhelming for her and I wish the twins weren’t downstairs, so I could stay with her. Unfortunately, now it seems we have other matters to discuss other than what I called them here for. Matters which will cause me to lose my shit if I think about it right at this moment.

  I look at Phoenix realizing she never answered me.

  “Phoenix?”

  “Yes Mikhail. I understand.”

  “Good girl.”

  I kiss her softly with a need to have physical contact to assure myself that she is real and ok. Unexpectedly she latches on to my kiss as if it is the last thing she will taste. Her reaction to the small amount of contact makes my dick stand straight to attention, looking to take his woman down.

  The kiss quickly starts to get out of control when she moans into my mouth. My baser instinct wants me to fuck her mouth as I would like to fuck her pussy, but I know with all that has happened, I need to reign that shit in and be more patient, though with Phoenix, I only know one speed.

  Turbo.

  “Baby, we have to stop. You have suffered a minor injury and I need to feed you. Be a good girl and watch TV for now until I am able to come back up.” I kiss her forehead, not risking kissing her in the mouth again, lest I say fuck it and pound her clear in to the bed. Making sure she is settled into the bed I am then able to walk out of the room.

  As I step into the hallway a fog is lifted and I remember the name ‘Olaf’. It can’t be. Do coincidences like this happen? Son-of-a-bitch. The feeling of being unglued right now is foreign and unacceptable to a man who uses control as an imperative in his life.

  Stumbling a little as I make my way down the stairs, I walk into the room where the twins are and give them new orders, with the name Olaf, before sending them on their way. Albeit, not without a warning not to cross me again.

  The twins and I grew up together, sort of. I met them before I was adopted from the orphanage and it is with their help that I survived on the streets. The twins lived in a neighboring town where I would go and get into mischief. The orphanages in Russia are brutal and without much resources. As a result, most of the time we would go without food and the basic human immensities that people in the USA take for granted.