“Please,” growled out Kato, dropping to my side on one knee. “Come home with us Tina. Stet. Pronto. Like yesterday.”
And Kristian was just as vehement as he took the chair across my desk.
“The sooner the better,” he growled out, “Now,” he commanded.
And Karl just nodded, his eyes fixed to my belly, its hugeness somewhat explained by the fact of two babies within. “Twins,” he whispered to himself. “Fuck me.”
And that brought me back to the present because it was the fucking that had gotten us here in the first place. My seduction so long ago by the twins at the Old Dog, then meeting Kristian at a cocktail party. If they’d kept their penises in their pants, my kitty off those dongs, we wouldn’t be here today. And so I wasn’t so sympathetic, I had my piece to say and was going to say it.
“I can’t leave,” I said firmly. “I have clients here, I’m doing good work, making a difference. I won’t leave, and besides Cambodia has been welcoming and warm, I love the people, the food, the culture. I’m all settled into my apartment and I’m scheduled for delivery at the expat hospital in six weeks, it’s going to be fine.”
But the men shook their heads.
“We want our babies to be Venetian,” said Kristian, his brows lowered. “The Venetian blood runs through our veins … and theirs.”
And at that, I almost blew my top, lost it.
“I’d think that your last thought would be St. Venetia,” I said tightly, “given everything that’s happened to you, everything that’s gone down. Why are you still loyal to them? To this city-state that’s caused you so much pain, so much hardship? Don’t tell me it’s because of the ‘blood royal’ and all that bullshit,” I said.
And the men were silent for a moment.
“Baby, it’s not the blood royal,” said Karl gently. “After all, Kato and I were bastards all our lives, you know we’ve never been formally recognized.”
I snorted. The Venetian royal house was in turmoil right now with their Crown Prince forfeiting his succession rights and rumors of a total shake-up imminent. Further, Queen Agatha, Kristian’s so-called mother, had gone into hiding and hadn’t been publicly seen for months now, the speculation rampant, gossip mags going crazy as to what would happen to the family.
But that was none of my business, not anymore at least. In the instant moment, I was busy with Cambodia, with the non-profit I’d started, with my clients, and most of all, my babies. Here halfway around the world, so far away from everything poisonous, everything messed up and twisted, my babies would be born, pure, innocent, and sweet, and I was going to stay no matter what the men said or did.
So I shook my head again, sweetly serious, forcing myself to draw upon the reserves of calm I’d developed in my few months here, my resolute focus on being centered, happy, going with the flow of Fate rather than struggling and making myself miserable.
I took a deep breath and began.
“Please don’t come in here and tell me what to do,” I said civilly but with an edge to my voice. “I’m my own woman and these babies are going to be born in Southeast Asia.”
And the brothers switched to persuasion then, turning on the charm, unaware of my transformation. They still believed I was a naïve eighteen year-old girl, ready to bend to their every will, swayed by their power and confidence, the sheer certainty that infused their every action.
“Baby, it’s not too late to come back,” said Karl reasonably. “After all, you’re what? In your second trimester? You don’t need to worry about flying.”
And I rolled my eyes. Hadn’t he heard me? Flying was the least of my worries.
“Honey,” added Kato, “we can look after you better in St. Venetia. Sure, we’re military men now, all three of us, but we’ve pledged to stay in the vicinity until everything gets worked out. And clearly that means until after the babies are born.”
And I interrupted then.
“I don’t need you to be with me, I can do just fine on my own, thank you very much,” I said archly. “I’ve been here on my own for months now, and in that time I’ve started my own non-profit. See?” I said tapping the banner in back of me. “Khmer Outreach Center, or K.O.C. as I like to call it. Isn’t it cool? I’m doing the same thing I did back with Roma Outreach, except here I focus on Cambodian women who want to open their own businesses, whether selling flowers, or wheat, or providing child-care. I’m only lending small sums, maybe up to $100 per business, but we have a 75% payback rate and I’ve got a waiting list for women who might want a loan,” I said proudly.
The men were silent for a moment.
“That’s wonderful,” rumbled Kristian. “I, more than anyone, know how dedicated you were to microfinance back in St. Venetia. But why do you have to do it here? There are plenty of non-profits back home, why couldn’t you go back to Roma Outreach, work with the Roma again, or join any number of charities in St. Venetia? They all do good work,” he frowned.
And I blew a strand of hair out of my face.
“That’s it exactly, you see?” I said slowly. “You run over my hopes and dreams, making it all about you and your family drama. Not that I blame you,” I added quickly, “there’s been a lot of drama lately. But we didn’t experience it together. The moment things got bad, the three of you guys got the hell out of Dodge, leaving me alone to deal with everything by myself. And was that the right thing to do? Leaving your best girl home alone, pregnant, to pick up the pieces?”
The men look shamefaced but tried to defend themselves.
“We had to leave, Karl and I,” protested Kato. “We needed jobs baby, we needed dough to keep paying rent, make good on our debts. You know we can’t live on nothing but dreams.”
“Yes of course,” I replied. “I understand. But I also offered to support us, continue working at Roma Outreach while we got everything under control. Instead you guys took the first offer that landed and beat feet as fast as you could, here one day and gone the next.”
The twins looked shamefaced, Kato almost speaking again but Karl beat him to it.
“I know what you mean, honey,” he said, “but please understand. We’d just discovered that our father had tried to get in touch with us, had wanted to know as boys and it was our mother, Violet, who’d turned us against him, painting him as a monster, a user who fucked her once and never bothered to call. So everything we based our lives on was fake, and we needed some distance to process it.”
“I understand,” I said somberly. “Sometimes getting away does wonders, look at me now after all,” I said, gesturing to the office. “I’ve come to Cambodia to refresh myself, establish a new company, find my peace, and raise my children. But there’s a big difference,” I paused. “I wasn’t leaving you behind. I held down the fort for as long as I could until it no longer made sense to.”
But Kato couldn’t hear me.
“But what happened to us was so extreme,” he protested. “Just think about it honey. Violet had based our life on lies, and we needed some time to mull it over, let it settle, that’s all,” he said persuasively. “Is that wrong?” he asked. “Is it wrong to ask for time?”
And I looked at him sharply then.
“Look at me,” I said, gesturing to my belly, the protuberance giant and swollen. “Look hard. Look how I’m carrying your children, how big they are now, waiting to be born. Can’t you see? Time waits for no one, especially not this. Your daughters are going to be born soon no matter what you say or what you do, there’s no slowing it, there’s no putting it off. So yes, there are situations when you want to be still and contemplative, to figure out what’s going on in front of you without making any drastic moves, but not if it means leaving me behind. Absolutely not by leaving your pregnant girlfriend alone, to deal with the aftermath.”
“Plus,” I added. “I was the one who dealt with your mom, did you know that? You guys were long gone, and Violet was persona non grata with the Palace. She came to me, emptyhanded with nowhere to go, nowhere to stay,
and I put her up in a little hostel for a while, helped her get her bearings after everything went down.”
And here the men paled.
“I’m so sorry,” rumbled Kristian. “We had no idea.”
“What did you think your mom did?” I asked archly. “Disappeared into the ether? Made herself invisible when it was inconvenient?”
He shook his head somberly.
“I guess we just didn’t think about it, maybe she went back to the U.S., hell maybe she reconciled with Georg, we have no idea what the fuck she got up to. I guess we were so consumed with the shit that had gone down that we didn’t think about how it affected others, we were just dealing with us,” he said slowly.
And I pounced then.
“That’s it exactly,” I said, nodding. “That’s it. You guys were dealing with you, with no thought for others. How can I be with men like that? How can I be with men who are supposed to be warriors, but left their pregnant girlfriend alone, to pick up the pieces?”
And I paused for a breath.
“And so I had to find my own peace. I talked to others, I took a lot of walks, appreciated what St. Venetia had to offer and realized, finally came to the conclusion, that I’ve got to be happy by myself first. I can’t depend on others for happiness, the way that I hung my star on our ménage. I used to live and die by our relationship, my moods would go up and down depending on your moods, if you were happy, if you were sad, if you’d had a good day or not. And I can’t be that girl anymore,” I said softly, shaking my head. “I’m my own woman now and I row my own boat, come hell or high water.”
The men looked stunned.
“You’re eighteen,” growled Kato. “You can’t be in a boat by yourself, metaphorically or not.”
“I’m nineteen now,” I replied softly. “And I’ve been rowing my own boat in Cambodia just fine for the past few months.”
“But it can’t go on forever like this,” frowned Kristian. “There’s no permanence here for the babies, there’s no Venetian heritage, no Venetian language, no sense of home. Come with us, little girl,’ he said persuasively. “We’re ready for a fresh start.”
And I sighed and shook my head. They really hadn’t understood, really hadn’t listened to what I’d been saying.
“Don’t you get it?” I asked softly. “I’m not Venetian, I never was, and neither are my children, so the Venetian heritage argument is useless if not downright offensive given everything that’s happened. And as for me, I’m “home” for these children, where I am is “home” for them, wherever in the world that might be. So please, leave us be, we’ll be just fine,” I finished.
And I turned back to my papers, looking down although I couldn’t see the words, the sentences a blur.
“And now if you’ll excuse me, Annelise is still waiting outside. She’s got an idea for a small rice farm, and I’m excited to take her through the business plan. Thanks for stopping by.”
The casual farewell did it. The fact that I’d dismissed them without so much as a kiss, a promise, a next meeting, struck the men like an anvil to the forehead. Their massive shoulders slumped, and they turned and exited quietly without saying a word, big frames departing silently. For some reason I should have been happy, happy that I’d maintained my cool in a trying encounter, that I’d had the final word. But instead my heart ached, the lump in my throat hot and heavy, making it hard to swallow. But isn’t that what love is? The happy and the sad … inexorably entwined.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Kato
I would have done anything to re-write history, to re-do everything that had transpired.
“Fuck!” I raged, pounding my fist against the door.
We were in our hotel room, having taken up residence at the nearest Starwood. “What the fuck is wrong with us?” I raged again, practically spitting I was so incensed.
“Cool it bro,” rumbled Karl. “We need a plan.”
But I shook my head.
“She’s pregnant,” I roared. “What plan? What the fuck? This is so unfucking-believable.”
Of course, I didn’t mean that the pregnancy was unbelievable, that was totally to be expected, our little girl swelling with our seed. Tina was a sweet, fertile, nineteen year-old after all, who’d been fucked by three men night and day, it was only a matter of time. But everything else that had happened this afternoon … it was like a punch to the gut, leaving me breathless and gasping for air.
“We’ve got to get her out of here. Back to St. Venetia, fuck back to Kansas if that’s what it takes,” I said grimly, balling my fists in rage. “We’ll go back to the farm, strap her down to a bed if she tries to leave.”
And the thought made my cock spring out, the image of our beautiful Tina nude and tied up, ready for us. And shit, fucking her while she was pregnant, that big, naked belly filled with our babies? It made me cream even harder, my tip getting wet, dripping at the thought of her fertile form ready and willing. I wanted her even more, even harder, ever so desperately.
But Kristian was calm, or at least seemingly so.
“She’s got a point,” he began. “We were assholes, to put it lightly. The three of us left St. Venetia in what? A week after the events at the palace? We left her on her own with no forwarding address, no contact info, just some promises that we’d be back someday, no telling when. No wonder she’s pissed as hell.”
“But she’s pregnant,” I raged. “We’re the fathers, what the fuck, is she going to have those babies on her own?”
A pause again.
“Evidently so,” replied Kristian slowly. “Evidently so.”
And that just confounded us all the more. Because seeing the little girl, how transformed she was, was astonishing. And amazing. And utterly wonderful. No more did we have a sweet thing completely dependent on us. Instead, the brunette was standing on her own two feet, making decisions, the hotshot head of a budding non-profit, all in a foreign land no less and heavily pregnant to boot. We were proud as hell, proud that she’d become a woman in her own right, with her own means, her own way of seeing the world, the prism clear and focused, able to make a difference and affect others.
But still … having two kids on her own? Without us? Hell no, there was no way that was going down, in any way shape or form, in whichever universe we lived in. No way were we not going to be a part of our kids’ lives, especially given our twisted family history. So yeah, the question was getting back into her good graces.
“We’ve got to get her into bed,” ground out Karl. “Only then will she listen to us, if her pussy’s creaming, that little twat stroked and touched, filled with cock, she’ll come home with us.”
But I wasn’t so sure.
“Dude, she’s not letting us touch her, are you fucking kidding me?” I asked, disbelieving. “Weren’t you there? Weren’t you listening? She hates our guts.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say hate,” mused Kristian contemplatively. “That’s a strong word, but yeah, I’d say something more like ‘dislikes intensely.’”
I snorted.
“Whatever, dislikes, hates, detests, repulsed by, we’re toast, man,” I said disgustedly. “We came here to propose, and instead she’s turned her back, wants nothing to do with us.”
Because yeah, we came to Cambodia with a ring in our pocket. Or three rings is more like it. Instead of a diamond solitaire, we invested in a tri-color ring, a ring with three bands of silver, rose gold, and yellow gold twisted together, locking to form a beautiful medley, pulling apart so that they form three circles, touching but still interconnected. It represents us, our foursome, Tina’s finger the center around which we orbit. She’s everything to us, and yeah, we want to get married, make it permanent.
But that seemed impossible now, given our last encounter.
So we were silent, trying to think up ways to win our best girl back. Fuck! This was so fucked up, I shook my head in rage. And recent events were all the more ridiculous given the woman she’d become because Tina had
matured … and was even more perfect for us now. Perfect to handle three men, three separate male egos, three differing personalities, three careers, and a fourth career, her own. And the maturity was even more valuable now because her workload was about to double with the new babies, the new responsibilities that came with being a mother.
So we wanted the brunette so badly that it literally hurt, wanted Tina in our lives and by our sides. Where else would we find her sweet intelligence, depth of knowledge and understanding, coupled with a sensuality so heady, so exciting, that it was enough to handle three men, milk the sperm from all of us while bringing us to undiscovered heights? And yet the brunette had dismissed us with a flick of the wrist … and we weren’t sure if there was a way back.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Tina
“There you go,” I said, handing the cash to Annelise. “It’s capital for your business, use it like we discussed,” I said encouragingly.
The small woman smiled, so thin that I was surprised when I’d found out that she was a farmer. Annelise had stopped by my office two months ago explaining that her family planted rice, and needed a loan after a crop failed last season.
“Thank you Miss Tina, it’s going to make a huge difference,” she said gratefully. “Last year, my husband managed the planting, but this time I’m in charge. Your investment is going to make all the difference.”
“Good,” I said with a smile. “Take the reins from your husband, you’re the boss now.” Because the truth is that a lot of men in Cambodia don’t have great heads for making money. Khmer Outreach, like its famous forbear Grameen Bank of Bangladesh, has discovered that women entrepreneurs are a much better bet than male ones. The women are enterprising, hard-working, with a 99% payback rate. Male entrepreneurs, on the other hand, seemed lazy, shiftless, and only too happy to let their wives do the work. So K.O.C. focuses on women-led enterprises, an otherwise underrepresented minority in this land of fifteen million.
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