by I. A. Dice
In his hands, I was truly a puppet. He knew which string to pull to get the reaction he desired. He moved, and I moved with him.
As long as he touched me and as long as I felt his longing and love, I gave in, not trying to snap out of the hypnotic state.
But it wasn’t Adrian who I wanted to have close. It wasn’t Adrian who I wanted to kiss. It wasn’t Adrian who I craved and missed.
It was Thomas, but it wasn’t Thomas’s face my fingers caressed. It wasn’t his lips which mine rediscovered in a cautious rhythm. Those were Adrian’s lips, Adrian’s face, and Adrian’s body pushing me back onto the pillow.
His kisses dripped with admiration, sorrow, and determination. Every stroke of his fingers on my skin was loaded with caution and wonder, as if he couldn’t quite believe I was there with him.
I wasn’t there. Not entirely, anyway. My body was there, adjusting to the slow, comforting pace of his body, but my mind was back in London, back in the queen-sized bed, under the black, satin sheets, my cheek pressed into Thomas’s chest, his heart racing.
I turned my head to the side, breaking the kiss, then looked into black eyes, which watched me with love. Adrian rested on his elbows, his body on mine, his face inches away. I blinked once, then again, and once more, but the eyes were still black, despite me willing to give up everything for them to turn cinnamon.
Adrian moved his hand to my stomach. My eyes closed when his warm fingers pressed into my flesh, climbing higher, inch by inch. Desire radiated off him, but he tried not to rush and not to scare me away, even though he was beyond ready to pin me to the mattress and make up for six months of lost time.
“I love you,” he breathed into my mouth. His fingers reached my breast. “I’ll never let you go.”
My eyes popped open. My stomach sank.
I slid the shirt down his arms, ghosting my lips over his neck. “Take what’s yours,” I muttered in his ear.
One second I sat astride on him, and the next I laid on the white sheets, surrounded by rose petals, with Thomas’s lips kissing the inside of my thigh. I weaved my fingers through his hair and my mouth fell open, when he slid my panties down and stood to take off his trousers.
“I want you to look at me,” he said, climbing back on the bed.
I awaited a restless, brutal thrust as he positioned himself above me, parting my legs, but he slid inside me slowly, inch by inch. A muffled pant of satisfaction left his lips, and I wrapped my arms around him as his moves became rhythmic, my moans drowning out the music.
“I’ll never let you go,” he whispered, and without warning, he pulled me up, and rested his back against the headboard. “Take what will always be yours, baby doll.”
I rose on my knees, and fell back on top of him, my fingers on his jaw and my mouth on his forehead. I closed my eyes, breathless and feverish, basking in the luxury of his unrestrained affection.
A sudden injection of courage ignited my senses. Thomas let me feed off his strength time and time again, and at some point, I learned how to summon that feeling. I pushed Adrian away.
“I can’t. I’m here to help you stay clean. I loved you for a long time, but that’s in the past now.”
He grazed his nose against mine, his eyes closed. “I know you’re scared, but I love you, puppet. I want you to fall back in love with me. I won’t give up.” He moved away and outstretched his hand behind my head. “Let me hold you. Just for a while.”
I rested my cheek on his chest, unease clouding my vision. Adrian pressed his lips to my hair, stroking my arm, and whispered how much he missed and loved me.
It was like a dream: a distant, tiring dream.
Despite the nightmare he dragged us through, he never lost the ability to lure me into a false sense of security. My mind and body were programmed to give in to him every time.
“I may only be given, but never bought,” he breathed, brushing his fingers over my collarbones. “Sinners seek me, but saints need me not. What am I, puppet?”
Adrian loved riddles. He tormented me with the silliest ones when we were at the beginning of our relationship. They were always short, and the answer was funny because he did what he could to make me smile.
This riddle was different. It wasn’t supposed to bring a smile to my lips. No, this one was serious. It portrayed his vulnerability.
I knew the answer but refused to say it out loud. Adrian forgot that what he wanted had to be earned.
CHAPTER 4
THOMAS
Hans always worries
On Friday, three weeks after the girl i never wanted to lose left, I woke up bright and early… in the afternoon.
Since Adrian kissed her head last week, I spiralled out of control once more. The reality was too much to take; instead of brushing my teeth, I drank the rest of vodka straight from the bottle and lit a cigarette. The house was a mess, which, considering that the cleaning lady visited on Tuesday, was quite an accomplishment.
A small, blue light flashed on my cell, prompting me to check who I ignored in the last twenty-four hours. Twenty-seven calls waited on the screen. Most were from Nick, some from Scorpio and two from my mother—none of which I wanted to return. There were however, seven missed calls from Claudia. She called two hours earlier. The fact she tried so many times got me worried.
Claudia rarely called for a chit-chat unless Maya exceeded her expectations when it came to causing mayhem. All other times she rang when she needed help, whether it was babysitting, a DIY project or sometimes even shopping when they were both out of action with the winter cold. I redialled her number and turned the speaker on, too lazy to make an effort and hold the phone to my ear.
“Finally,” Claudia clipped. “What’s going on with you? Why haven’t you picked up my calls earlier?”
“I was busy.” Busy being unconscious after I passed out on the couch the night before. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing now,” she said, annoyed.
Good. I was in no shape to do anything productive. Or unproductive for that matter. I was disgraceful. For three years I hadn’t missed a single day at work. Hell, I worked evenings, nights and weekends when situation required it. When Nick and I started the company, I barely slept for weeks.
Since I stopped mourning Adam, I was on my best behaviour when it came to controlling my alcohol intake. Now, I was back to drinking every waking moment of the day. I hadn’t hit the gym in weeks or ate anything apart from greasy take-away. My body was going to thank me for it, for sure.
“I hoped you could look after Maya this afternoon. My boss asked me to work late, but I already called Richard,” Claudia said. “He’ll take care of her.”
Like hell. Maya was the one thing left in my life worth suffering a hangover to get back in shape.
“No, he won’t.” I sat straight, the headache about to begin. “I’ll pick her up from nursery and take her over to my place.”
There was no way I would let Richard monopolise the last ray of hope left in my miserable life. Since he showed up, I hardly spent any time with Maya. I needed a fucking break. My body needed a break from drinking, my mind from thinking about Nadia. Maya was the best distraction, and I wanted to kick my ass for not thinking about her sooner.
“But, Thomas…”
“Don’t do this to me. I want to spend time with her.” I started clearing the mess that was the living room. “Call Richard and tell him he won’t be needed today.”
She hesitated for a moment. I held my breath awaiting her decision like a criminal awaits the court order.
“Oh, okay. I’m sure he’ll understand. She finishes at three so don’t be late and don’t let her eat too much chocolate. I’ll pick her up at nine.”
How much chocolate is too much?
“I promise nothing, but don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her.”
Claudia chuckled, and I could imagine her shaking her head. “I know you will. Why do you think I called you first?”
Time wasn’t my ally.
Neither was the smell of the house. My smell wasn’t any better. I opened the windows, cleared the empty bottles and rushed upstairs to take a shower.
I skipped shaving yet again and made a mental note to get rid of the three-week old stubble the next morning. I loaded the dishwasher, triple checked the living room for empty bottles lying around where they shouldn’t and ran out of the house.
Good thing the BMW was fixed. Scorpio took the liberty of bringing it back to my house a few days earlier; otherwise I would have had to run to the nursery. Considering my state, I would end up at the back of an ambulance, hooked to a ventilator if I tried.
The mechanic did a half-assed job on the car, but I didn’t care. I wanted to get a new one for a while, and a trip to the BMW saloon was on the agenda as soon as I stopped acting like a drama queen.
So, not anytime soon, right?
The thought of seeing Maya was like an adrenaline shot and laughing gas combined. I pushed Nadia out of my head, concentrating on the three-year-old, gorgeous baby girl I was about to spend the afternoon with. I stopped at Claudia’s house to pick up a car seat. The spare set of keys she gave me when Maya was born came in handy.
Twenty minutes later, I walked into the colourful waiting room of the nursery. Parents crowded the three square meters of space, waiting for their kids to finish for the day. I wasn’t sure what it was about the monkeys, birds and flowers painted on the walls, but they lightened my mood even more. I was almost giddy, and I fucking hoped it wasn’t because I was still drunk.
A woman in her forties opened the door, letting an army of kids into the room. Maya came out last and stopped in the doorway, scanning the room slowly, a pink lunch bag in one hand, a red book bag in the other. Her mouth curved into a grin once her eyes stopped on me.
“Thomas!”
She draped her arms around my neck when I picked her up, hugging me tight.
“You are scratching me,” she complained pushing my face away. “Why do you have a beard?”
“Don’t you like it?”
She squinted, pursed her lips, then shook her head. “It is scratching me. Shave it.”
“Okay, but not today. Your mummy called and said we can spend all day together. How does that sound?”
“Yay! Where are we going?”
We walked out of the building. I put her down on the pavement to fish out the keys to my car. Maya jumped in and I helped her take the seat belt out, but she buckled it herself. Tasks that adults take for granted fill children with pride and joy. I didn’t pay any attention to buckling my seatbelt, but to Maya it was an accomplishment: a small milestone that deserved praise.
“We can go wherever you want and do whatever you want, but first we need to get you something to eat.” I closed the door behind her.
“I want ice cream!”
Surprise, surprise.
“I’ll make you a deal,” I said, taking the wheel. “We can have ice cream after you eat lunch. Does spaghetti sound good?”
“Yes, but can we go to Uncle Nick and feed the ducks, and I’ll tell you about Star Wars.”
I adjusted the rear-view mirror to look at her when we joined the line of cars waiting to leave the parking lot.
“You watched Star Wars?”
“Yes! With Mummy and Richard. Did you see it?”
“No,” I admitted, and her smile widened. “What’s it about?”
Maya looked out of the window, pulling on her shirt.
“Well. Okay. Princess Leia is looking for Obi Kenobi and Darth Vader kidnaps her.”
Maya glanced into the mirror. I pulled a face, and she giggled, making me chuckle for the first time in weeks.
I was pretty sure the guy’s name was Obi One Kenobi or something like that, but I didn’t dare correct Maya.
“Hans always worries,” she continues. “And Obi Kenobi is a teacher. He’s teaching Luke how to use his little light sword trick but then he dies, and Yoda teaches him.”
“Whoa! He dies?”
She shook her head vigorously. “And Luke gets Princess Leia out of jail. And they blow up the planet!” Her eyes grew bigger as she remembered something else. “It’s all Darth Vader’s fault! And, and… Oh! And he’s Luke’s father! You should watch it.”
Or not. The Star Wars craze passed me by. I wasn’t much of a movie fan, period. Still, I would happily watch Frozen if Maya told me to, but despite Claudia’s efforts to raise a girly girl, Maya was becoming more of a tomboy.
“I will. It sounds good, especially that bit about Obi Kenobi and the light sword.”
Maya kept going for another fifteen minutes about Luke and Darth Vader, and from the little I knew about Star Wars, I had a feeling she told me about all the movies at once.
Either that, or whoever wrote the script was high.
She made little sense, but the excitement in her voice was addictive. I forgot about my problems listening to her babble about Obi Kenobi and Princess Leia. By the time she was done, I genuinely wanted to watch it just to see why she liked it so much.
We ate at my favourite Italian restaurant. The waitresses crossed their hearts when I entered with Maya. One scanned my fingers for a wedding ring, and when she hadn’t found it, her features softened even more. She must’ve thought I was a single dad.
Maya chose spaghetti. I settled for a plate of spicy cannelloni, but I only swallowed a forkful. My stomach refused to accept a normal meal. Considering the amount of alcohol I poisoned it with, I didn’t blame it.
Maya finished her dessert consisting of three scoops of chocolate ice cream an hour later. I paid the bill and took her to the grocery store to buy bread for the ducks. She skipped across the shop, filling the basket with more things—most of which were made of chocolate.
Nick was home when we arrived at the cottage shortly after five. He opened the door and was about to throw a few fucks at me for not showing my face at work or ditching his calls, but he spotted Maya in time. His expression changed from furious to blissful.
I wasn’t the only one under Maya’s shoe. Nick had a soft spot for her, too. Whenever we showed up at the cottage, he dropped whatever he was doing regardless of importance to entertain Maya for hours with a smile on his face.
“Long time, no see, princess,” Nick said, bending down on one knee to pick her up. “Where have you been? Why haven’t you visited?”
“I don’t know. Where is Melia?”
We walked inside, and Nick put Maya down, then immediately opened a cupboard in the kitchen where Amelia kept her emergency chocolate supplies, AKA the period munching stash.
“She’s still at work, but she’ll be back soon.”
“Okay. Well, can we feed ducks now?”
“Sure. I saw two swans in the lake this morning; they might still be there.”
Maya grabbed my hand to drag me out to the back garden. I gave her a loaf of sliced bread and walked her over to the spot between two trees where we always sat down to feed the birds. Maya stood next to me, tossing large chunks of bread into the water. Not many ducks were around at first, but by the time Maya went through half of the loaf, a flock flew over from the opposite shore.
“Why haven’t you answered my calls?” Nick plopped down beside me, his voice not louder than a whisper. “I went over to your house last night. Where were you?”
“At home.”
“Then why didn’t you open? I banged on the door for five minutes.”
Banged, yelled and swore. Apparently, I missed the six-monthly management review meeting, not that I cared. The meetings served as grounds for the star managers to bitch about stupid things. No important issues were ever raised.
“I know,” I clipped, a warning note in my tone, which didn’t seem to convince him not to open my wounds in front of Maya. “Have you watched Star Wars, Nick?” I changed the subject before he could tell me to suck it up and get back to work.
Maya spun around waiting for Nick to answer, her eyes the size of two-pound coins.
“I di
d. It’s my favourite movie.”
“Mine too!” Maya exclaimed, losing interest in feeding the ducks. “Remember when Princess Leia’s planet blew up?”
I took the bread from her hands and tossed the rest of it into the water while Nick took Maya inside. It was amazing how a three-year-old girl rid my worries simply by being there. Not once had I thought about Nadia while Maya was around.
Amelia wasn’t exempt from the Star Wars story when she came home an hour later. Maya had endless supplies of energy and could talk until dawn, but it was nearing her bedtime, and I made her say goodbye to Nick and Mel.
“I don’t want to sleep,” she said when we arrived at my house sometime after seven o’clock.
“Who said anything about sleeping?” There was no winning with her on this one, so I didn’t bother trying. “There’s no nursery tomorrow, and your mummy isn’t picking you up for two more hours, so we’ve got plenty of time to play. What do you want to do?”
She ran into the living room and climbed onto the couch, putting a pillow on her knees.
“Do you have Star Wars?”
I should’ve expected that. Maya was like all kids her age; if she liked something, she obsessed over it until something new came along. Not long ago it was Shrek. We watched it so many times that I knew the donkey’s best sayings by heart.
“I don’t, but I can rent it out. Should we watch the first one?”
Maya nodded, making herself comfortable. She kicked her shoes off, and bent her legs at the knees, pulling them under her bum. The white polo shirt she wore was stained with spaghetti, ice-cream and too much chocolate. She rested her back on me when I covered her with a blanket and pressed play on the remote control.
Maya’s commentary was non-stop during the first half hour, but as the time went by, her energy supply ran dry. She held my hand the whole time, squeezing it when something exciting happened.
Somewhere between finding Yoda and Luke learning how to use the little light sword, Maya fell asleep. I didn’t dare to move in case I would wake her, but thirty minutes later, a soft knock left me with no choice.
