by Bea Paige
Eventually, Erik draws his head back, adjusting me in his arms. He nudges my chin with his thick fingers, urging me to look at him.
“I ended a man’s life when I was a kid,” he says slowly, judging my response before continuing. “I fell in love. I fell hard for a girl called Emmie. A girl who didn’t judge me, didn’t want me to be anything other than who I was. At least that’s what I’d believed. I gave her my heart, and she broke it. She took my love and trampled on it…”
He breathes in deeply. Through his chest I can feel the thudding of his heart as he unleashes his past. Beyond the glass wall I’m very aware of Ivan and Anton holding their breath as much as I am. Erik is going to tell me what happened here on this island when he was a boy. It seems right that they should hear this story too.
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there’s a field. I’ll meet you there,” he murmurs, and just for a second I lose him to his past. It’s fleeting, and I watch with fascination as he hauls himself back into the present.
“What does that even mean, Erik?”
He slides his fingers across my cheek, pushing my hair behind my ear before dropping his hand onto my lap covering my clasped hands with his own. Even though I know those hands could easily take my life, I feel nothing but comfort from them now.
“Emmie loved to read, she was the one who introduced me to Rumi. We used to go to a couple of places here on the island to have sex. One of them, the Maeshowe, sits in the middle of a field not far from here.”
“Maeshowe?”
“It’s a domed building built thousands of years ago, covered in grass. The first time I went there was after Emmie left me a note with that line from Rumi’s poem alongside a map to find it. I fell in love with her that night. Less than a month later, the day I was leaving the island, I found her at the same place with another man. That day surrounded by fields of emerald grass, I turned into a green-eyed monster. Jealousy, hate, bitterness, betrayal and pain had filled my heart, turning it into something ugly.”
“What did you do?” I ask tentatively, even though I know what’s coming, I can feel it.
“I ended his life, and I hurt Emmie.”
“You killed the man she was with?”
He presses his eyes shut, then opens them again, a deep well of regret swimming beyond the watery tears that threaten to fall.
“I put him in a coma, beat him so badly he never woke up from it… he still hasn’t.”
I can hear both Anton and Ivan draw in surprised breaths. They’d always said he was a good man before he was tortured in Afghanistan, that he was the best of them. This confession, this truth must come as a shock.
It seems that we’re all capable of causing harm. We all have a past tainted by death.
Ivan has Svetlana’s scarring his skin.
Amber’s lifeless existence haunts Anton still.
I have my father’s on my conscience.
And Erik is responsible for this man’s death. The brutality of his fists ending a life. He may still be alive, but he doesn’t live, and in some ways neither does Erik.
I should be afraid. I’m not.
“I have a monster that lives within me, Rose. It taunts me, a constant reminder of what I’d done to that kid. He was only nineteen, a couple years older than me. Barely a man. I took his future, Rose. I can’t go back and change it, but I tried to do better. I tried to do good. I went into the army to prove myself.”
“How did you not get put into jail?”
“Viktor. He and Mother threatened Emmie, paid her off to say that Layton had started the fight and I was defending myself. I got a suspended sentence, lost my place at the Royal College of Music and enrolled in the army all within a matter of weeks. Viktor got my case thrown out. Emmie left to start fresh somewhere else. I spent years trying to atone for my sins. Then I met her, and she drew the monster out. She set it free.”
He looks at me with anguish. “The fact you chose green as the colour to represent whatever is happening in here, isn’t lost on me. Green might be a new start, new beginnings to you. It may be the fields that surround Browlace and the possibility of a different life. But for me green has always been that field, that grass covered mound. It’s the jealousy that bore a monster I’ve never been able to shake…”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too, Rose. Me too.”
Out of the corner of my eye I see Anton stand, hauling Ivan up with him. I look at him and see the fire blazing in his eyes. I see a fierceness within him that was lacking before.
It takes my breath away.
There’s a determination to fight for a future that isn’t filled with drugs and self-hate, but for something more, something better. What happened in here just now has shocked him to the core, shocked them both. Things are shifting between us once more. The tides are turning.
I cling tighter to my buoy, afraid of the storm, afraid of the wreckage it will reveal far beneath the surface.
Anton rests his palm against the glass. “You’re the bravest woman I know. Thank you for brightening my life.”
He smiles that disarming smile and it’s full of relief, awe and… love. I swallow down the strange lump in my throat, not willing just now to acknowledge it.
Picking up a discarded shopping bag, Anton places it into the hatch alongside the control to the door. He glances at Erik.
“This was never going to work on the outside, but you knew that anyway, right?”
“I did,” Erik admits.
“Prick.”
“I deserve that.”
“You deserve more, but right now I can’t kick your arse. That’ll have to wait,” Anton says, wrapping his arms around Ivan who’s still shell shocked.
“You lied to us,” Ivan says, his anger barely veiled.
“I didn’t lie to anyone. You just assumed.”
“Fuck!” Ivan slams his fist against the glass wall. I feel his anguish as though it’s mine.
I really am at Erik’s mercy, at all their mercy.
“Are you going to fall apart again?” Ivan asks, managing to pull himself back together.
“It’s likely.”
“Are you going to open this door?”
“No.”
Ivan grits his jaw, looks at me and utters the one word I cannot bear to hear. His eyes tell me he’s going to utter it even before the word forms in his mouth.
“Red.”
“Ivan, please,” I beg. He’s telling me that this is his hard limit. That he can’t do this. But I can’t leave Erik. I won’t. “Please, don’t make me choose,” I whisper.
“I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t,” I insist, making a promise that I’ve no right to do.
He stares at me for a long gut-wrenching time, then spins on his heel and walks out of the building taking a piece of me with him. Silence descends as we all watch the door slam shut. It’s pitch black outside. I’ve no idea how late it is. Time seems to have lost meaning here in this glass bubble with Erik. Is it the same day as I arrived, the next? I don’t know.
Anton pulls off his beanie hat and swipes a hand through his hair. “He’ll come around.”
“He’s not coming back,” I respond, dully.
“He will, he loves you. That man can’t stay away from you anymore than I can.”
I’m not so sure. The one thing between dominant and submissive that must always be adhered to is the safe word. Ivan just uttered his, and I chose to ignore it.
“Trust me on this, he’ll return.”
“Okay,” I respond, not at all convinced. My heart feels heavy, at a loss. It’s not a feeling I enjoy.
“Take the bag, Rose. Your medicine’s inside, alongside a bag of ice and some water. I’ll arrange for some food soon. I’ll make sure Ivan brings it,” Anton says, placing it in the hatch.
Erik squeezes my arm gently then slides out from beneath me and walks over to the hatch, grabbing the bag. He gives it to me, before picking me up and hauli
ng me back onto his lap once more.
“Take your medicine, Rose,” Anton says, urging me to open the bag.
Feeling inside for the plastic dispenser containing my tablets, my hand comes across another familiar object– the control to open the door. Anton has given me back the key to unlock the cage. The question is, will I use it?
Locking my eyes with Anton, the message is clear. Now you have the key. You have the power, he says silently.
For a fraction of a second, I contemplate opening the door but despite everything I’ve experienced in this space, and the very real danger that Erik could very well kill me next time, I decide to stay.
Dropping the control, I pull out the bag of ice and lay it gingerly over my knee, then take my medicine with a few swallows of water. Once that’s done, I allow Erik to cup my cheek and press my face against his chest.
I don’t complain when he folds his arms around me once more and hauls me closer against his firmness. Despite every single warning bell clanging inside my head, despite my demon’s disapproval, I lean into him. I allow him to hold me. I let myself be held.
And a tiny slither of stone falls away from my heart.
I remain folded in Erik’s arms for a long, undefined time. Hours pass as we both doze on and off, the pain in my knee easing a little with the ice, the medicine and rest. I get up twice to use the toilet, returning to his arms despite having the option to sleep on the bed. He always welcomes me back. Every now and then he shifts slightly, adjusting me in his lap. He just holds me, until eventually he lets out a long, measured breath.
“I’m ready,” he says.
“Ready for what?” I ask, pulling back.
“To start healing.”
And I know he isn’t just talking about himself, but me too. Sliding his bottom to the edge of the seat with me still in his arms, he stands, cradling me against his chest.
“I can walk,” I mutter.
“But I don’t want you to. You’re hurt. The first step towards getting better is to accept kindness, Rose. Accept it for what it is. One person showing empathy towards another, wanting to help. Nothing more.”
“And what about your healing?”
“What do you think this is?” he laughs a little, a deep rumble that penetrates through his chest into mine. It disarms me. I’m pretty sure that sound hasn’t left his body for a long time.
“Erik. I need you to put me down,” I say eventually.
“No.”
“Erik, please. I need to do something. I’m not that woman, I won’t hurt you.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” he mumbles, glancing at Anton, a silent conversation happening between them, then returns his gaze to me. “Okay.”
Placing me on my feet, Erik steadies me until I can find a comfortable position. My knee still hurts, but not as much as before. Facing him, I look into his eyes.
“What colour are my eyes, Erik?”
His are a deep golden amber. They’re unusual, they’re perfect, they’re the eyes of a lion.
“Green,” he murmurs.
“What do you see in them?” I ask.
He frowns, taking a moment.
“I see secrets…”
“What else?” I whisper.
“I see courage. I see determination,” he responds, his fingers swirling over the back of my hand as he holds me steady.
“And?”
“I see a woman who’s so afraid to live that she’s willing to stare death in the face.”
Nodding, I pull my hand free from his. He lets me go, watching me as I lift the hem of my t-shirt, pulling it over my head.
He’s right. Everything he’s said is right.
I don’t live. I exist.
And until lately even that wasn’t going so well.
Is it true that I still desire the darkness, even here now with the one man who is more capable of providing it than anyone who’s come before? Yes, it’s still true.
Am I still afraid to live? Truly live? Oh, I’m afraid. I’m fucking terrified, but despite that or maybe because of it, I’m going to see this through to the bitter end.
Erik doesn’t move, he just watches me intently as goosebumps scatter over my skin.
Dropping my t-shirt to the floor, I hook my thumbs under the waistband of my leggings and slide them down my legs, trying not to stumble as I do so. My knee remains swollen, and there’s still a dull throb, but I can deal.
Standing up straight in just my underwear I look at Erik, really look. At the man, the monster, the wild animal just beneath the surface.
His gaze rakes over my skin, lighting me up from the inside out. My nipples pebble, my core clenches, my knickers are soaking wet. Even in fear my body reacted to his darkness, is still reacting to him now.
“Take off the rest,” he requests, and it is a request, not a demand.
He wants me to do this for me, as much as I do it for him, and God, how I want to.
I let myself smile a little. Was there ever any doubt? This I can do. This I want.
Unhooking my bra, the thin material drops to the floor revealing my heavy breasts. I shimmy out of my cotton knickers awkwardly, allowing them to slide down my legs.
I stand before him, naked, bare, broken in so many ways.
Erik doesn’t take his eyes off my face. A frown forms, dragging his blonde eyebrows low over his golden eyes. His pupils enlarge, his mouth parts, but he refuses to remove his eyes from mine. He’s making a point, and I hear it loud and clear. This isn’t just about sex.
This is so much more than that.
“I want you to take what you need, Erik. Take back the power. Let me help you,” I say, utterly naked before him.
He regards me intently. The fact that he doesn’t even try to look at the rest of my body is a complete turn on. I know I still have a good figure, if a little more rounded than it was when I was younger. Both Anton and Ivan appear to enjoy my softness as much as my strength. But with Erik, he’s looking beyond that. Erik looks past my nakedness and is actively seeking out more. I may have stripped off my clothes but he’s intent of stripping me of so much more.
“I’ll take back the power, Rose, but only if you relinquish some of your own. That’s the deal.”
Some, not all.
I nod. I can do that. I can. Inside my demon roars in anger, she wants to fight. She wants me to fight, but for the first time in my life I ignore her completely.
Erik steps into my space, towering over me then swoops down and lifts me up. A second later I’m lying back down on the bed, my wrists bound once more.
Chapter 23
Erik – Present Day
At the edge of my consciousness I can hear the first notes of Mazurka in A minor begin to play, and immediately I tense.
“Fuck, not now,” I mutter.
“What is it, Erik?” Rose asks me.
She lies perfectly still, her body stretched out before me. She’s fucking stunning. Everything about her is feminine and soft, and though I long to bury myself inside her I want more than her curves, I want more than just her inner core of strength. I want what lies beyond.
She watches me as I pace up and down trying to get a hold of myself. The notes I’m so familiar with now ripple inside my mind, every single one a step closer to madness. Why so soon? I’ve never suffered so many episodes one after the other like this.
“It’s coming,” I hear myself mutter. The sound of my voice is distant, echoing from someplace far away.
“What’s coming?” Her arms flex, as she pulls at the rope binding her wrists.
“The music… She used my own music to torture me,” I grind out.
“Who?” she whispers.
“The woman who ripped me apart and drew my monster out…” My voice cracks as I force myself to respond.
“And you can hear the music now?” Her eyes widen, understanding dawning. She knows what’s coming, and here she is at my mercy yet again.
“Yes…”
“What
can I do?” she asks.
She doesn’t beg me to untie her or let her go, instead Rose asks what she can do for me. My knees buckle at her strength, her kindness.
This is the truth of her. This is the woman she was always destined to be. Why can’t she see that? Accept it?
“Take the pain away,” I bite out.
My hands reach for the binds around her wrists. I should untie her, at least if I break, she’ll have a chance to defend herself. But instead of loosening the rope, I tighten it. My hands clutch at her arms and I squeeze tightly as the notes fill my mind. She draws in a breath. I know I’m marking her, bruising her skin, but I can’t seem to stop.
“She took something I loved and used it against me. It’s why I can’t play anymore,” I explain from that faraway place. I’m both in and out of myself, straddling madness and sanity as I lean over Rose.
“But I heard you play, the first day I came to Browlace. I heard you play, Erik,” she says, confusion furrowing her brow.
“Whatever you heard, it wasn’t me.”
“But…”
Music litters my thoughts, bursting through my weakened state, taunting me and drowning her out. I press my forehead against hers, needing the contact, needing to anchor myself in this room with her.
“Fight it, Erik,” Rose says, her breath soft against my skin, her lips a whisper away from my own.
She draws me back to the present. To this moment, here with her. I grasp onto it, onto her.
“I don’t want to hurt you…” I bite out, knowing that I will.
“Fight back, Erik. I’m here with you… Touch me,” she implores.
“Not like this,” I retort. She deserves more than the monster. She deserves the man I know I can be.
“Please. Like this. I need you like this,” she responds, her breathy pants turning me on. I haven’t felt this way in a very, very long time.
“You crave the monster?”
“Yes.”
The music swirls inside my head, and something snaps… my resolve to be a better man than the one who abused her when she was a girl leaves me. Just like that.
“Touch me,” she persists.