Can't Let Her Go

by Georgia Le Carre

  Next to me, Katya is entranced by what is happening outside the window. I can’t tell if she’s truly happy or a bit sad. She’s leaving mother Russia, but she didn’t have all that great a life as far as I can see. Still, she had to leave her family and that must be hard for any young girl.

  People lie all the time. In fact, it’s smart to just assume that everyone lies. That way, you won’t be so disappointed when you find out they’re lying. I lie. I know I lie, but I really meant what I told her. I won’t let Anakin or anyone else harm a hair on her head. And if need be, as I promised, I’ll take care of her parents. It’s against my way of thinking, but I’ll do it. I don’t break promises. That’s another reason she’s going to Detroit.

  I promised Anakin.

  Katya

  Hunter wakes me just before we land in London. The sun has risen, and there are no clouds. I can see London as we approach the airport. It is massive. After all, it is one of the largest cities in the world.

  Since our flight isn’t for another twenty-two hours, we are going to leave the airport. To do that we must clear immigration. The agent who processes us takes our passports from us. Hunter looks cool and unaffected, but I am shaking inside. Even my mouth feels dry with nervousness. What is the punishment for travelling under false papers?

  He wants to know the purpose of our trip. Hunter explains that we are on a layover. He shows them our tickets. The agent glances at our tickets then stamps Hunter’s passport. He doesn’t stamp mine. Instead, his eyes slide over the bruise on my cheek before he looks at my photo in the passport. I wonder if he thinks I’m being kidnapped and forced into some sort of sex-trafficking ring. I can see an implacable quality in his eyes.

  I grin widely at him. “I’m so madly excited because I’ve never been to London before.”

  He doesn’t smile, but he stamps my passport and ushers us along.

  Hunter looks down at me. “You can start breathing again,” he says, his eyes amused.

  Outside the terminal, we get a taxi, and to my surprise, Hunter tells the driver to take us to Harrods. I’ve heard of the store, but of course, I’d never dreamed of going there.

  “You can’t show up in Detroit dressed like a tramp,” he says. “And I could use a change of clothes too.”

  It’s true, both of us look like tramps. How long has it been since I had a bath? Far too long. I’m sure I smell like a goat or worse. “Isn’t it very expensive there, though?”

  “I think I can afford it,” he says easily. Then he pauses, a hard expression coming into his eyes. “Anakin is looking for a princess and I’m going to give him one. You can’t look too good if you’re going to fool him.”

  I’ll never be a princess, but I can certainly look better than I do right now.

  Harrods is more luxurious than anything I have ever seen. As we pass through the perfume section, a couple of beautifully dressed sales people actually raise their eyebrows and crinkle up their noses at us. Hunter doesn’t even spare them a second glance. He takes me upstairs to the women’s designer section where he finds a store assistant. She takes one look and smiles as if she has just won the lottery. I guess she must work on commission or something. Hunter tells her what he wants, and she promises to put it all together. A dress, a pair of jeans, some blouses, underwear, makeup and shoes. I suppose everything I will need to transform into a princess and a suitcase to put the stuff in. Hunter gives the clerk two hours to finish, and then he leaves.

  “We’ll start with underwear,” she says. “Practical or sexy?”

  “Sexy,” I say automatically. “Very sexy.”

  She smiles. “I know exactly what you need.”

  The next two hours pass far faster than I expect. The clerk, whose name is Samira, puts me through a number of changes. As I’m finding the perfect wardrobe, another clerk arrives to organize my makeup. She tells me I have excellent skin and I tell her she should see my sister’s skin. Then she instructs me on how to apply the makeup so my best features will shine. The way she gushes on about my features makes me feel embarrassed because she uses words like perfect, absolutely beautiful and stunning. Other sales clerks start to come in to watch.

  In the end, she turns the mirror around and I have to believe her. I do look like a runway model. My cheekbones are ‘perfect’.

  When I turn around, Hunter is standing there holding a large shopping bag. He looks different too. He hasn’t changed his clothes, but he has had a shave and his eyes are brighter. We stare at each other for what feels like forever. I know I love him with all my heart. We’ve been through so much I feel bonded to him. No matter what happens now, I will always, always love him. Then he smiles slowly. His smile is genuine. I hope he likes what he sees because I have changed into new jeans and top too.

  I like the way I look and I think he does too.

  He settles the bill and I’m sure he gives a generous tip because the clerks tell us to come back soon. It feels incredibly good to have someone wait on me. I can’t believe it’s happening to me, a simple village girl from the backwaters of Russia.

  He leads me out to another cab that takes us and our bags to a hotel. The hotel lobby glitters with gold, mirrors, marble surfaces, and many lights. It looks like a palace to me. I can’t help but smile. I’ve never seen anything like it in real life. This is the stuff of magazine pictures.

  We breeze through the lobby where a smiling young boy takes our bags and escorts us into the elevator like we’re the most important people he will see today.

  Oh my, I think I could live here.

  As the doors close I meet Hunter’s eyes in the mirrored doors and something secret passes between us. Like a current of electricity. No one else can see it or feel it. It’s just between us.

  I know he doesn’t feel about me the way I feel about him, but he wants my body.

  The boy asks him something, but he doesn’t answer, just stares at me. There’s a little ding and the doors slide open smoothly. The boy takes us down a corridor. The carpet is so soft and plush and it feels as if my new shoes are sinking into it.

  The boy opens the door and I’m amazed by how beautiful the suite is.

  Our room is a suite with fresh flowers, a lovely green and cream living room. There’s a basket of fruit and a bottle of champagne on the coffee table next to a sofa.

  While Hunter talks to the boy I wander into the bedroom. It features a view of downtown London. I stare out the window and think myself very, very, very lucky. How did this happen? For that moment, I forget that I’m on my way to Anakin. I turn, and he is smiling.

  “Take a bath or a shower,” he says. “Then get dressed for dinner. We’re going to have a great dinner.”

  “We can have room service. I’ve always wanted to order room service like they do in Hollywood movies.”

  “We’ll use room service for dessert. I want to experience London with you. You see, I’ve never done this either.”

  “Then, we’ll do it together.” I move closer, wind my hands around his neck, and press my body to him. The only thing I have is my body to show him that I appreciate what he’s done, what he’s doing. Almost immediately, I feel him become rock hard. I feel that heat again. I remember what he did with his tongue. I lift up my head and looking into his eyes that are half-closed with lust, I kiss him. His lips are soft and delicious and I can feel myself melting. I want to tell him I love him, but he lifts his head, slaps my bottom and tells me to hurry. We only have a few hours.

  I skip to the bathroom. I haven’t skipped since I was a child. I must be happy.

  Hunter

  Katya’s happiness both elates and hurts me. I love that she is excited, but I hate that it won’t last. I go to the window and look out. London is busy, very busy. If only there was a way for us to get lost here.

  No.

  He would find us. He would never stop until he found us and punished me for my betrayal. I’ll have to kill Anakin before he kills me. Because Anakin will kill me. He’s killed other
men for less. He doesn’t abide mistakes. I frown. Anakin sent me because his usual guy couldn’t make it. Nobody tells Anakin they can’t make it. If his usual fetcher wasn’t available, it’s because he’s dead. When I think about it I haven’t seen Anton for more than a year. As a matter of fact, the last I heard of him was when he was getting ready to go to Russia. I feel it in my gut that something happened last year, something with the virgin.

  But what happened?

  I need to find out. I have to find out what happened to the girl from last year. I hate myself for not listening more closely to Anton last year. I think a moment and wonder how I can find out. It will take a phone call and I can make the call, but not now. I’d rather not know yet. I want to have a good time with Katya tonight.

  I want her to have the time of her life—maybe for the last time.

  Katya

  When Hunter steps out of the bedroom, I’m amazed.

  He’s one of those men who grow on you. Sometimes when you see a good-looking guy, you think he’s gorgeous, but the more you see him the more boring his looks seem to be, but with Hunter, he just becomes ever more intriguing and handsome with time. He’s what Russian women refer to as the full package. I grin inwardly. In more ways than one.

  He looks at me as if he can’t believe his eyes, but in truth I’m as surprised by him as I am of myself. I have looked in the mirror and I know just how different I look, how sophisticated. I look nothing like the eighteen-year-old girl who left Sutgot. The makeup, the dress, my nails, and these tall shoes that I’m afraid I will fall from.

  “You look terrific,” he says softly.

  I let my eyes wander over the crisp white shirt, the big muscles in his shoulders and arms that the beautifully cut suit cannot hide and feel something flutter in my belly. “And so do you,” I murmur softly.

  He holds out his arm, and I take it. “We’re going down to the lounge for a drink,” he says. “Then, we’re going to have dinner at a wonderful restaurant the bellboy told me about. After that, we’re coming back here for dessert. We could do more, but we have to fly out tomorrow and I don’t want you to be sick.”

  “I know it will be the best night of my life.”

  “You’re going to have many more great nights, Katya, many more.” Hunter leads me out of our room. “You smell incredible, by the way.”

  “I sprayed perfume in the air in front of me and walked into it the way the make-up artist told me to. I hope I haven’t worn too much?”

  “No you haven’t, but it’s all good. I like you with and without the perfume,” he says huskily.

  We walk into the lounge and the men look at me. I’ve never been looked at by such sophisticated men before. The men in Sutgot stared at me, but they were oafs. They stare at all women like that. These are rich men, educated men, men with fine suits and gold jewelry.

  Hunter leads us to a table in a cozy corner and a waitress comes to us immediately. Hunter tells her we will have vodka on the rocks, and she bustles away to fill our order. I look around at this beautiful lounge, at the soft lights and expensive … everything. The background piano music fits this room, these people. This is the kind of place I have read about and seen on TV. I never dreamed I would ever be in such a place. It is too much. I almost want to cry.

  “Like it?” Hunter asks.

  “Tell me I’m not dreaming,” I say.

  “You’re not dreaming,” he answers.

  “It’s really like a dream,” I tell him. “Do you always go to these kinds of places?”

  “Naw,” he says with a laugh. “I don’t hang out in places like this. I can’t afford it, but I’ve saved for a very long time and I don’t want to die without spending it.” There’s something bitter about his laugh.

  I take his hand and squeeze it. We’re the inmates on death row who get whatever they want for a last meal. I know we’re condemned and death is waiting around the corner, but I feel happier than I have ever felt. Right at this moment, I no longer care about tomorrow, about Anakin, about being a virgin. I’m happy beyond all measure. This is far beyond what I have ever imagined.

  The waitress returns with our drinks, and Hunter makes a toast. “To non-virgins.”

  I lift my glass. “To non-virgins,” I echo before taking a sip. It’s the best vodka I have ever tasted.

  “You’re the most beautiful woman in the room,” Hunter tells me.

  I blush. “There are many women around us who are more beautiful.”

  “But none like you. And none that have come through a blizzard to get here.”

  I frown. “We shouldn’t talk about that.”

  “I suppose not. Let’s talk about better things. Let’s talk about what you always wanted to be once you stopped wanting to be a ballerina or a gymnast. What’s your dream, Katya?”

  I have to think for a moment. “I haven’t had a dream for several years, ever since my parents told me I was to be the next virgin. I suppose I gave up my dream at that point.” I lick my lips. “What do you think happened to all the other girls?”

  Hunter shrugs. “I don’t know, and that’s the truth. I’m not trying to spin you. I am going to try and find out tomorrow though.”

  “I agree. I’d like to know—but not tonight. Tonight, tonight I want to be the queen.”

  His gaze is indulgent. “More like a Princess, but yes, you can be the queen. Tonight, you will be whatever you want to be.”

  I hold up my drink, and we toast again. “And you’ll be whatever you want to be. Can you be my Prince?”

  He smiles. “Have you ever seen Big Ben?”

  “Who?”

  “Not a who, a what. It’s the bell in the most famous clock tower in the world.”

  “Can we see it?” I ask eagerly.

  “We will, on our way to dinner. We’ll see it and several other famous sights. You’ll be Cinderella going to the ball.”

  “And you’ll be the handsome prince. Only I have no glass slippers.”

  “You don’t need them. You’ve already snagged the Prince.” He gives me a wink.

  Hunter

  We don’t have time to be proper tourists, so we take a taxi ride all around London, past Big Ben, London Bridge, Buckingham Palace, and the Embankment. Katya holds onto my arm and stares out the window as the driver gives us the tour. It’s fine, but it’s not as heady as her perfume and the vodka racing through my blood. She is a princess tonight, my princess. She’s everything that any prince would ever want. I want to keep that. I don’t want to think about tomorrow, or the fact that I cannot promise her anything real.

  We’re on our way to a feast and that’s all that matters.

  Katya’s eyes grow wide when we arrive at the restaurant and there’s a liveried doorman to open the car door for us. The place is first class all the way. A snooty headwaiter shows us to our table, and a smarmy waiter recommends expensive dishes, and we bite. I don’t care. Tonight nothing matters but seeing Katya’s face move from fascination to joy, to wonder, to astonishment, to amazement, then back to fascination again. Tonight belongs to her. And me. Tomorrow might be my last day on this earth, so I’m gonna make this night special.

  The wine we order would eat up my entire month’s booze budget. It’s so much, it makes Katya’s eyes pop. Why not? I think, why not order something ridiculous. We’re not going to do this again. It’s now or never. The food is as good as the wine. The service is exactly what is expected. Some other diners regard us with something less than respect, but that doesn’t matter. I’m used to that, I have a tattoo on my neck that snakes out of the collar of my shirt. The men look at Katya and lick their lips. I can’t blame them really, she’s the best thing on the menu tonight.

  After dinner, we go back to the hotel. It’s not real late, but it’s late enough. We have to fly out in the morning. Katya hangs on my arm like a beautiful trinket, but she’s not a trinket. She’s my trinket. I feel possession flare up inside me like a beast that has broken free of his chains. Something that I
have never felt before rises up inside me. She is mine. Only mine.

  In our room, I ask if she wants room service dessert, and she says no. She has had enough food and drink for one night.

  “What would you like?” I ask.

  She blushes then she blurts out, “I want everything. Tonight, I want us to do oral sex on each other at the same time.”

  A vein in my neck is already throbbing as I take off my jacket, and I feel that familiar stirring that only she can bring to my body. The yearning inside me is so elemental and intense, I can feel hot pre-cum leaking out. “Go in the bedroom and get naked.”

  She doesn’t have to be told twice. She almost dashes into the bedroom, and Katya has no idea how much I want her, how much I want her to feel everything.

  I strip as I head for the bedroom. By the time I get there, she has switched off the light. The winter moon is shining through the window, it’s luminance falling on her. She’s already on the bed, nude, smooth as silk, her glistening little cunt taunting me. Like an alluring moon goddess she calls to me to worship her. I slip onto her altar. My hands reach out to touch her silvery curves. I can smell her arousal and it is making me feel giddy.

  “What do these tattoos mean?” she asks, delicately tracing the blue ink on my chest.

  “They were my way of reclaiming my body. They helped to cover some of the scars and burn marks and gave me a feeling of being in control.”

  “They’re beautiful,” she whispers.

  “I hate them. I should have saved my skin for you. Your name should be on every inch of my body,” I murmur, sucking her nipples into my mouth.

  She shivers. God, I love it when she shivers. Her fingers find my erection, teasing it, taming it. Her touch is incredibly erotic and I can feel my heart pounding like crazy. She’s a siren, a woman I cannot resist. I pull her close and kiss her, but my desire overwhelms everything else and I … devour her.