by Bex Dane
I stood beyond the fenced-in area designated for the graduation ceremony. An outsider peering in. A cowboy in a sea of socialites.
As she stepped down the stairs, our eyes caught. I removed my hat so she could see the hurt on my face. The love I felt for her stained by her lies.
She raised a hand to wave.
I lowered my gaze and turned my back on her. "Fuck."
I'd watched her graduate. The end. No more chances for me to change my mind and chase her. No more time for her to run to me and make this right. We would end like this. She'd take her secret with her home to wherever she was from. I glanced over my shoulder. The tears streaming down her cheeks cut like a dagger.
But you got what you wanted, babe. You used me when it was convenient and discarded me when you were done. Have a nice flight back home.
I strode out of the Hale campus for the last time.
Chapter 17
Zook
My heavy steps sprayed gravel from under my boots.
Blasting wind and a blaring horn caused me to raise my head and wake the fuck up.
Shit. I'd drifted into the road. Almost got myself killed.
Sloping over to the shoulder, I trudged up the hill to the Bluffs. Never knew this road was so damn steep. Where the hell did I leave my bike anyway?
Oh that's right, at the pub in town. Too drunk to ride. Last thing I needed was a DUI added to the list of ways I was fucked.
I shouldn't have drank so much. Emptying all the whiskey bottles in that joint didn't dull the edge of the piercing pain. Two weeks ago, Cecelia carved my soul up like a pumpkin. Today, the rotten carcass finally caved in.
She left hours ago.
Right after graduation, Cecelia took a taxi to JFK Airport… Yes, I followed her. Two men escorted her onto a Turkish Airlines plane to Moscow.
Even if I had a ticket I couldn't go after her. I'm on parole. I can't travel out of the country.
The rock I kicked tripped along the road in front of me.
No song I could sing would make her come back. No joke could make this funny.
CeCe left her mark on my heart. I'd never met a woman as gorgeous and smart as her. She lit up when I kissed her. She laughed at all my jokes. She never made me feel stupid for all the words I couldn't read. She made me feel like I could climb mountains if she would just laugh for me. I'd fallen in love with her body, every curve so smooth and appealing, like a whittled piece of oak, you can't help but run your fingers over the grooves.
But now my hands that were always working, always touching, hung useless at my sides. I could create nothing.
The wind whispered failure, failure. Unworthy of heaven, a rapist, a Son of Perdition. Nowhere to go but hell.
The screech of a siren stopped me in my tracks. Oh shit. The cops! I scrambled down the embankment and hunkered behind a tree.
The whirring noise came closer and red lights flashed up the deserted road.
Not cops. A fire truck.
The sound zoomed past me. Some rich bastard up the hill probably had a heart attack while fucking his mistress.
Two more trucks zipped by as I passed the last lot before mine. The last lot before… mine?
Fire trucks were going to my fucking mansion?
No!
My boots skidded in the dirt as I took off running up the hill. I smelled the acrid smoke first. Rounding the corner, a huge black cloud came into view.
Flames engulfed the back half of the house.
One truck sprayed three thick streams of water from an extended ladder over the house. Several men on the ground held hoses aimed at the crackling flames.
"Fuck!"
All my work! Burning to the ground. I could hear it. Cracks and pops of my efforts, disintegrating.
Cecelia! Need to save her. No. No, she's not here.
Destry had rehearsals tonight.
I didn't own anything valuable. Did I? I'd put Tessa's journal in the fireproof safe but one thing…
Oh shit! I need to save it!
I raced up the steps and pushed through the front door.
"Hey! Stop!" someone yelled at me, but I'd already made it to my room in the back.
The flames licked up the hallway and water crashed on my head. I dove for my nightstand.
Got it! The box containing Cecelia's ring.
"Get out of here, now!" The fireman who followed me in yanked my arm back.
I swiped the framed picture of us from the mantel and coughed as I ran back out.
"Stay here. Let us do our job."
"Yes, sir."
He was pissed, but I had her ring and the picture she gave me.
Everything else could burn.
***
An hour later, I sat with my ass in the dirt that would've been a tennis court. The saved picture of our date to the magic show lay next to me. The ring in my pocket.
Torrez' shoes tapped out steps toward me. "Guthrie, you alright?"
"I'm sorry, man." I ran both hands through my hair and pulled as another cough burned from my lungs.
"For what?"
"I blew it. Burned the place down."
"You burned it down?" He didn't seem upset considering his house just went up in flames.
"Must've been somethin' I did. Electrical, space heater, I don't know. You're gonna fire me today. I didn't finish in time."
"What in the sam-hell nonsense are you spouting at me?"
"I failed. It's over. Deadline was today and you don't have a house. No fuckups. No excuses. She's gone. The house is gone. Now I got nothin'."
He took a step closer and crossed his arms over his chest. "Who's gone?"
"Cecelia. She left. She's gone. My fancy tutor." I hadn't told him about her leaving. Couldn't talk about it. Didn't really accept it was true until today and I saw her get on a plane.
"Where'd she go?"
I looked up at him. "I don't fucking know."
"Why the fuck not?"
"Cuz I'm an idiot. Idgit! Idgit!" I smacked my palm to my forehead. "Can't even write a fucking letter to resign. I K-W-I-T. Is that how you spell it? I'm sorry. You trusted me and I failed you."
"Shut the fuck up."
"Like I fail everyone. You can beat my ass. Burn loser into my back. You bring a branding iron?"
"Fucking shit." He pulled out his phone. "Blythe, bad news. Another fire. Province Bluffs. Get insurance rolling and pull Locke off Terrace Heights. Have him send a demo crew first. Then carpenters, roofers, electricians and a finishing crew. Give him three weeks." A short pause. "Thank you." He ended the call and turned his eyes back to me. "You ever had a fire on a jobsite before?"
Three weeks? This Locke person had a huge, multi-talented crew and could rebuild this place in three weeks?
"You ever had a fire on a jobsite?" he repeated.
"Yes. A barn I built burned down. Tessa and I risked our lives to get the horses out. A man died in that fire."
"And did you quit? Which is spelled Q-U-I-T by the way."
"Told ya I can't spell for shit."
"Did you quit when your barn burned?"
"No, sir. Rebuilt it in two week's time."
"Right. So you cleared the debris and started over?"
"Yes."
"Makes no difference if your heart is broken or not, you strap on your boots and get to work."
"Yes, but…"
"Listen. I ain't happy my house burned down. You did a great fucking job. It was a beautiful house. But this is not your fault."
"You don't know that."
"I do. This was most likely arson. It's all on me not you. There's a lot of people who don't wanna see me succeed. They burn down my builds all the time." He offered me a hand up.
"You coulda warned me." I took his hand and stood up.
"I gave you the gun."
"You forgot to mention the arsonists!" I brushed the soot from my pants.
"It's only the back half."
"Took me nine months to build this place. Y
ou got big crews and let me stand out here all winter working with just four men?"
"You said you wanted to prove yourself on your own merit. You've done that."
"Good. Now what?"
"We rebuild this one. It becomes the model. We build four more on adjacent lots."
"You serious?" He had this planned all along?
"Economy of scale, my friend."
So he was teaching me a lesson? I'd take it. "Alright. I'll be your foreman, you give me as much labor as I want."
"Of course."
"What's your timeline?"
"Three months per house. One year and we're done."
"I'll build you four houses in twelve months. You pay me a million per house. Four million one year from today."
"We can do that."
"And no bringing me into the family. My parole's up in three months, but I'm keeping my nose clean. If there's dirty money building these houses, I don't wanna know about it. We're legit business associates. What you do with your profits is not my concern and vice versa."
"Fair enough."
And with that, I had lost everything and gained so much more all in the blink of twenty-four hours.
Chapter 18
A week after the fire, I set the framed picture of Cecelia and me back on the mantel above the fireplace. The crews had finished clearing the debris and the rebuild progressed fast.
My fingers traced her stunning smile in the picture. She was happy. We were in love. And she still left. She closed the doors and shut me out like the prison guards.
Impossible.
If anyone had asked me a month ago if Cecelia would take off and leave me for another man, I would've said impossible. I knew she had secrets, but I never doubted the love between us.
Nothing made sense. How could this Maksim person have so much control over her that she'd give up everything we had? How was he related to her uncle and her studies at Hale?
Whatever it was, she must be terrified. If she was married and afraid to leave, I wanted to know. Whatever trouble she was in, I wanted to help her. Even if she couldn't be mine, she deserved to be free.
I pulled up the internet browser on my phone and tapped the microphone button which had become my best friend. "Search for Cecelia Boujani."
A few pictures of her at Hale showed up. Nothing else.
Gritting my teeth and sucking up my pride, I called Tessa.
"Hi, Zook." She sounded happy to hear from me. I hadn't seen her since the night at the club when her He-man husband knocked my hat off. Cecelia and her had become friends, mostly chatting about me and my studies. "Cecelia said the mansion you're building is almost done and it's spectacular."
I liked that Cecelia had told her about the build. "It was. Till it burned down."
"Oh no."
"It's alright. We're rebuilding. The journal you gave me was in a fireproof safe. I still have it." When she was seventeen, she wrote a bunch of shit in a journal and gave it to me. She said if I wanted to know what it said, I had to learn to read. I wanted to know, but I wasn't gonna let her teach me.
"Oh, well. Hmm… You saved that?" Her voice wavered and got quiet.
"Yes. Meant a lot to me. Studied those journal entries every night I was in prison, trying to figure out what you were saying about me. Wasn't until CeCe taught me to read, I could fully understand them. You loved me."
"It was a long time ago," she whispered.
I had her on the hot seat. The words a young girl writes to her boyfriend in her journal. Now that young girl is married to another man.
"Kinda pissed you didn't save yourself for me." I was totally messing with her head. Wanted to see if she still had a sense of humor.
She paused and cleared her throat. "What? We didn't promise each other anything. We agreed to find our lives outside the compound. We both needed someone who grew up in normal society." I was gonna respond, but she was all riled up and she kept talking. "Too many of our memories were tainted and convoluted between reality and craziness. We needed someone who grew up outside if we were gonna have any kinda chance at a normal life."
She was getting upset, but it was too much fun to let her off the hook. "Still, you shoulda waited for me."
"Are you out of your mind? Shut up, Zook. You're teasing me and it's not funny."
I laughed. "It's totally funny. You got all defensive."
"I did not!"
I laughed again. She totally did.
"Is that why you called, to tease me about my old journals?"
I took a deep breath and sucked it up. This was for CeCe. "No. I need to ask your husband for help. I'm looking for Cecelia."
She was quiet for a few seconds. "Is she missing?"
"She went back home after graduation. I just don't know where she went."
It sucked talking about this, but if CeCe needed me, I'd swallow my pride and make it happen.
"She left without telling you where she was going?" She sounded as shocked as I felt.
"Yeah. She had issues with her uncle. I have some serious concerns she's gone back to an abusive situation. It's driving me mad. I gotta do whatever I can to get her out of there."
"Did you try to talk her out of going back?"
"I did. She left anyway."
"Oh no. That sounds bad. I'll ask Rogan to get on it ASAP. Send him everything you know."
"I'll pay his fee."
"He'll do this as a favor to me. Do you have any more information?"
"Just that she graduated from Hale. She got on a Turkish Airlines flight to Moscow. She mentioned a man named Maksim who controls her. I'll send you a picture." I picked up the picture again and studied it for any sign of what the hell was going on. "I got it. Her pendant. Her friend Soraya wore the same one. It's in the picture. Show it to Rogan. See if he can trace it back to her."
"That's a longshot, Zook."
"It's all I have."
"Okay, I'll give it all to Rogan and see if he'll take on the project. Even if we find her, how're you gonna convince her to come back? You know how hard it was with the women from the compound."
"Leave that to me. I know her better than anybody. I'll convince her."
"I hope you find her. I'll do all I can on my end."
"Appreciate it. Uh, can I ask one more thing."
"Hmm?"
"Where's Orion?" My old Appaloosa from the compound. I'd been afraid to ask Tessa before, knowing the odds of her being alive were slim.
"I've been waiting for you to ask me that."
"Why?"
"She's here. In my stable. With Traveler."
"She is?"
"Yes, I've had her since the trial."
"How's she doin'?"
"She's happy. Aged. She hardly leaves the pasture anymore. Stays in the barn all winter. Still stubborn and ornery, like you."
"When I get a place, I want her in my stable."
"She's bonded with Traveler, Zook. You can't separate them."
"Shit. Well, then. I'm glad she has you and Traveler."
"And Rogan and our dog. You can visit her anytime."
"I will. Sounds like she's happy."
"She is."
"And you are too?"
"Yes. Blissfully happy."
"I'm glad. Night, Tessa.
"Night, Zook."
***
"A fire resistant intumescent cloth patch, sold in square meters, to be applied to ceilings and walls using..."
Blah, blah, blah. Blythe reading plans to me grated my last nerve. Nothing like the patience and sexy rasp when CeCe taught me. Blythe's pleasure in asserting her power over me echoed in every syllable.
My phone lit up with a text from Rogan.
Rogan: May have located your girl
Ten days I'd been checking my phone and heard nothing. Finally, some word. And five of the best words I could've expected.
He sent a link. It led to some website with pictures of oil tankers in a harbor.
"Are you listening, Zook? This
fire protection has to be spot-on in case we're targeted again." Blythe needed to shut her mouth right now.
"Yeah, yeah. I got an urgent message."
As the page loaded, I walked away from an indignant Blythe.
A modern office building as big as a shopping mall dominated the homepage. Strobe beams crossed above it and disappeared into the night sky. The logo in the upper left corner matched CeCe's pendant. I'd only just started to learn cursive letters, but now I could clearly make out a script N and a B twisted inside the circle of gold.
I closed myself into the room CeCe and I used as our bedroom and called Rogan. "What's the story?"
"Found the logo on a company in Central Asia. The N and B are for Naibu Brahm Oil. Click on the leadership page."
Shit. Fuck. Leadership probably started with an L, right?
The first image showed a crusty older man with gray hair. He looked about the same height as the man I saw leave Cecelia's apartment, but I couldn't be sure.
"King Ivan Sharshinbaev is president and CEO of NB Oil," Rogan said, taking pity on me and reading me the names. "Oil mogul. Two point six billion net worth."
"Two billion?"
"Yes. Below him." A younger man who resembled Ivan, but with darker hair. "His son. Prince Maksim Sharshinbaev."
Maksim.
Holy shit. We found him.
In a second picture, Maksim stood at a podium in front of a brand-new oil refinery. Brilliant sterling silver pipes in the middle of a deserted grassland. A hundred men wearing suits gathered around him, but all of their shoulders were noticeably placed below him.
"He's a prince?"
"Purely symbolic. Royalty has been defunct there for years, but yes, King Ivan is remotely related to the last reigning king in the country, and Maksim is first in line to the throne. Ivan has two other sons, Pavel and Yegor."
"Is she royalty too?" Could she really be a princess? She hated it when I called her that.
"I don't know what her role is there. I'm not even sure she's there. No sign of her anywhere."
"But the company insignia matches her necklace?"
"Yes."
"What are the chances? King Ivan looks similar to a man I saw leaving her place once. When she and Soraya left for the airport, they were escorted by two men."