Unleashing Sin

by A. M. Wilson

  The warmth from earlier has disappeared with nothing left but a chill in my bones.

  “Sorry,” he mutters gruffly. His voice pulls me from my thoughts. With slow precision, he reaches up and carefully brushes the back of two knuckles along my cheekbone. “Got lost there for a minute. You hungry? We should have breakfast.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m starving.” I take the change in conversation as the perfect opportunity to scramble away. “I’m going to get changed. I brought with a bag.” I grab my things and start for the hall.

  “Eggs and bacon okay?” His voice calls after me.

  “Yeah, sure! That sounds good.” I don’t know why my hand shakes when I reach the handle to his bedroom, but it does. It’s not like there’s anything—or anyone—to find. I chalk it up to all that’s happened this morning and slowly push open the door, only bothering to close it halfway behind me. I deposit my small bag on the bed and begin digging around for something to wear. The gray sweatpants and a soft shirt are nice for sleeping, but they aren’t appropriate for during the day. Not that I go anywhere other than three places. Still, the luxury of changing my clothes is still so new to me.

  For years, I wandered around naked, only given clothes when we were set out on a street corner or taken to the motel. Indoors, though, we were stripped of all basic comforts such as clothing and forced to walk around nude or in dirty old tees. I shudder at the haunting memory.

  Clothing isn’t something I take for granted.

  Someday, I’d like to learn about styling my outfits. I haven’t ventured into wearing skirts or dresses yet. They make me feel too…exposed. And I don’t miss the grins from Alex and Elias if I wear something that doesn’t match, like adding a funny hat with my jeans and top. I learned quickly that accessories aren’t necessary for a girl like me.

  I find a pair of jeans and a soft red tee shirt in the bag and lay them on the bed. The pants are one of the first pairs Elias got for me. The first or second day I was there, he said I needed some clothes of my own and made a phone call. A few hours later, a woman showed up at his house with a shopping bag from Target. Since then, several more shopping bags of clothes have shown up at his place, but I have no idea where they’re coming from.

  I tug off my sweats and shirt, standing nude except for my cotton panties. The cool air brushes against my breasts and makes them tighten. The tingling sensation causes my breath to catch. I quickly tug my shirt over my head to protect my chest from the chill.

  As I slip my left leg into my pants, my stomach lets out a loud rumble. I giggle and step in with the other leg. I better hurry up so I can eat. Alex is a big guy. He could probably take down an entire pound of bacon without any help from me.

  The pants slip easily up my legs and over my rear, and I pull the ends closed. Only…they don’t make it. I pull up my shirt and tuck it beneath my chin, dropping my eyes to the bronze button at the top of my pants. Pulling tighter, I try to get the little slit over the fasten. My knuckles brush each other as I yank, wiggle, and shake my hips, but it’s no use. The ends won’t budge.

  Tears prick the corners of my eyes as I drop my hands in defeat to my sides. When I drop my head back, my shirt releases and skates down my abdomen. Why won’t they fit?

  I walk a path across the room and back. While sniffling back tears, I stop in the same spot I just vacated and try again. Again, it’s useless. The ends hardly touch.

  Embarrassment consumes me, and the tears fall faster. I turn to the bed and dig quickly through my bag, while in the back of my head, I know I didn’t pack anything else. Why didn’t I pack anything else? Because I thought I wouldn’t be here long, that’s why. Because I just wanted a place to sleep for the night and to give Elias some time alone. I never expected to be here long enough to need a second change of clothes.

  A sob croaks out before I can stop it, and I try to cover it with my hand. I can’t keep letting Elias bring me new clothes. I also can’t afford to buy new things for myself. Even though Alex has been paying me to work at Sinclair’s, I haven’t been taking on more than one shift a week. I wasn’t ready, but now I might have to be. I need to start paying for things on my own.

  The tears fall faster as fear envelops me, edging away the embarrassment. I don’t know if I’m ready to work there more than I already do. A blur of male faces fills my mind, followed closely by a choking sensation at the thought of them leering at me. I wrap my arms tightly around my torso to chase away the unwanted feeling. My entire body shakes and I don’t realize it, but I’m out and out sobbing. All over a stupid pair of jeans.

  “Blossom! What the fuck, baby? What’s the matter?” Alex’s voice bursts through the room at the same time the door flies open so hard it bangs off the wall behind it. His large body thunders through, and before I can get a word out, I’m going up and into his arms. He scoots back on the bed near the headboard and leans against the wall with me held tightly against his chest. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he demands.

  “I-I’m s-s-sorry,” I sob, the dam bursting now that I’m in his arms.

  His large hand cups my head and tucks it beneath his chin while he gently rocks me. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you kiss me. You aren’t back there, baby, I swear. You’re safe here with me. Nobody will touch you if you don’t want them to. Nobody. Includin’ me.”

  The tone of his declaration makes me cry harder. I curl my fingertips into his solid chest. “It’s not th-that.”

  The rocking stills. “Tell me, darlin’. Only way you’re gonna feel better is to get it out.”

  I inhale, but it hitches three times before I’m able to get in a full breath. “My pants don’t fit,” I share before I let out the deep breath. My heart rate begins to slow, so I take another slow, deep breath.

  Alex says nothing, and the silence stretches for what feels like minutes. As my tears come back under my control, I slip my head out from beneath his chin and glance up at him through wet lashes. He’s looking at the jeans at the foot of the bed, and his lips are twitching.

  After what feels like an eternity, he says, “Let me start this by sayin’ I love women of all shapes and sizes, but you used to be nothin’ but skin and bones. Sickly, even, and I’m not saying that to be an asshole, it’s just the truth. They starved you in that fuckin’ place. That said, I can’t even begin to describe how pleased I am to hear that a pair of size 0 jeans no longer fits you.” His brows relax, and his eyes soften in a way I’ve never seen them do before. “You scared me. I could hear you crying from in the kitchen, and all I could think was that I hurt you. Seeing that you’re getting healthy again is about as far in the opposite direction from my thoughts. That’s nothing to cry about.”

  Everything he said was nice, but one thing, in particular, stood out to me. “I scared you?”

  His face changes, beginning to shut down like I knew it could. Closing his eyes, he turns his face from mine, I watch his throat swallow, and when he opens them again, his expression is clear.

  “Yeah,” he murmurs. “A little bit ago, we shared something that felt spectacular, but I know you aren’t ready for. I couldn’t tell what place you were in when you walked away, and then a few minutes later, I heard you sobbing like your entire world was ending. I was scared I hurt you the same way those bastards did. I can tell you if I ever did, I’d never forgive myself.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  His eyes hold mine. “I could. Even if I didn’t mean to, I could.”

  I place my palm along his bearded cheek. “You wouldn’t.”

  “I appreciate the confidence. You good now? No more crying about a pair of jeans?”

  I smile slightly and nod.

  “Good. We’re going to eat, and then I’m taking you clothes shopping. No more of this bi-weekly delivery from Elias’s mother. That woman lives to shop, but she’s not doing you any favors by bringing clothes to you.”

  “Elias’s mom is the one buying me clothes? Why didn’t either of you tell me?”

  Alex sl
ides out from beneath me and stands, wiping his hands along the legs of his jeans. “It wasn’t important. You needed to focus on other things. Though, now I think is a perfect time.”

  I bite my lip. “I don’t know if I can.”

  “You can.” He commands my attention with just his voice. I give it to him. “I’ll be by your side the entire time. Not a single man will look at you.”

  My mind goes to the one place it always does when I think back to some of those dark times. “It’s not just the men I’m afraid of,” I whisper.

  Alex reaches down and grabs the pair of sweatpants I left on the floor. Approaching me, he holds them out. The gesture reminds me instantly that I’m still naked from the waist down. And he was holding me in his lap. Why does that send a rush of adrenaline through me?

  “What does that mean?”

  Without making eye contact, I dress as quickly as possible. “It’s not just men. There are women too.”

  “Explain.”

  “Why?” I cross my arms over my chest for comfort as a chill spreads over my body. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Because in order for me to protect you properly, I need to know everything I’m looking out for. You and I are going shopping today, and if there’s something I need to know to ensure your safety, you need to tell it.”

  “There are women who work there. At least one. When I was kidnapped, I wasn’t dragged into a strange man’s car or abducted. Not the way you’d expect. I was…lured. I thought it’d be safe. A woman coaxed me. Said she could be my friend,” I mutter, feeling that familiar shame creeping in at my naivety.

  “Fuck,” he curses sharply.

  I go on. “They used children too. It’s less suspicious at the park when a child is asking another to play. They use the kids to scope out parents who don’t seem to be paying attention. When the parents relax because their kid found a new friend, that’s when they move in. It’s not just at parks either. Another big place is department stores because parents are easily distracted when they’re busy shopping.”

  A silence stretches between us. When I summon the courage to look at him again, my stomach hollows.

  His jaw’s locked so tight a knot forms in front of his ears, and his eyes hold nothing but pure rage. The fist of his right hand loosens, and he runs his fingers over his head twice before muttering another, “Fuck.”

  Feeling brave, I try to press my point. “So you see, I can’t leave, I can’t go anywhere, I can’t be normal because they’re everywhere. In disguise. Men are the obvious ones. The women… the children…” I trail off because I know he understands.

  He conveys this by stepping closer and dropping to his knees in front of me. My heart stutters at the look of determination etched onto his face. He lifts his hand palm up to me, and I glance at it before placing mine in his. “You are safe. Goddammit, I’m not much of anything, but I’m a man of his word. I would die than let someone take you away from me. If that means we go out in public, and I can’t take my hand off you, then you better get used to my touch. If that means you need to try on some jeans with me in the dressing room, then I’ll turn my back to give you privacy. If you have to use the damn restroom, I’ll clear everyone out and stand guard at the door if that’s what it takes for you to feel it. When you stand beside me, you’re safe. Your life is far more precious than my own.”

  My fingers tighten reflexively around his.

  “I’m taking that as a yes.” He leans down and presses a gentle kiss on the back of my hand, tickling my sensitive skin with his beard. The man practically just swore death to anyone who looks at me funny yet is capable of touching me with such care.

  And after that thought, I realize I didn’t need him to say any of those things because I already knew. I’ve felt safe with him since the very beginning. Since I opened my eyes to his big brown ones gazing at me. Since I jumped on the back of his motorcycle. Since I showed up at his apartment without a key. I’ve known without a doubt in my heart that Alex will take care of me.

  “Yes, let’s go, but I’m paying.” I respond finally as he moves to his feet.

  “Fuck no, blossom.” He smiles at the end to take the sting away, and he moves a piece of hair behind my ear.

  “Alex, please. I can’t have you spending money on me.”

  “This ain’t some caveman war, darling, but I also distribute your paycheck, and I know as of now I’ve only given you two. And those two weren’t even close enough to help you afford buying a new wardrobe, so no. Pay me back when you’re back on your feet, but right now, I have this.”

  I suck in a deep breath and attempt to strengthen my tone when he speaks again. And what he says shuts me up.

  “I have over six figures in the bank,” he shares softly. “Inherited all my pop’s money when he died, and honestly Shelby, I don’t want it, so if I can spend some of it on you, it’ll make me a hundred times happier than if I let it sit in the bank collectin’ interest.”

  I stare back, completely lost for words. “I’ll pay you back,” I answer stupidly.

  He grins. “You do that when the time is right. Though instead of money, I’d love to teach you how to cook me a steak.”

  “Done.”

  His smile deepens so much the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Done.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Shelby

  We skipped making lunch at the house and swung by a deli place for sandwiches that we ate in the car on the way to the store. I just barely managed to talk Alex out of going to an outlet mall and opted for a single department store in a nearby suburb instead. He said the brands were good here, nowhere near high-end, but not the lowest either. Even though I would have preferred to spend the least amount of money possible, he argued that I wasn’t wearing “that cheap shit,” and I was done arguing.

  He swung the car into a parking space nearest to the doors, and as I reached over for a final drink of my lemonade, he barked out, “Wait here,” and climbed from the driver’s seat. I nearly swallowed my drink wrong and watched nervously as he rounded the hood of the car and stopped outside my door. He waited until I set the drink down and unbuckled my seat belt before opening my door and waiting for me to step out. As soon as I was clear, he slammed it shut, hit the locks, and snugly took my hand in his.

  The gesture warms me and brings back our earlier conversation. He didn’t let me have a single second of worrying if he’d go back on his word.

  His confident strides eat up the parking lot. He holds the door open for me, and once we’re inside, he scans the area for a few seconds before leading me in the direction he wants to go. I’m trying to keep up while simultaneously taking everything in. The smell and the look of the place come flooding back as I’m hit with my first pre-kidnapping memory since I’ve been free. I remember being in this store. Not this specific location probably, but this store. The colors and the smells are familiar. The layout and the brand. I’d bet I went school shopping here when I was younger.

  We walk down the left and take a right down another long main aisle. At the end, he turns left again and stops.

  “The women’s department,” he says, using his free hand to gesture in front of us.

  “There’s so much stuff here I don’t know where to start,” I admit nervously.

  He looks down at me with a small smirk. “It won’t take you long to figure it out.” With my hand tightly in his, he leads me between the racks of clothes straight to the jeans. He points to three racks in front of us. “Like any of these?”

  I nod. One style is a dark navy blue that flares out a little more at the bottom of the leg. The next style holds black jeans that are the opposite—they taper in and have angled zippered pockets at the top. The third rack is also blue, but a lighter denim similar to the pair I had at Alex’s this morning. “I like them all.”

  Alex grabs a pair of sizes 2 and 4 from each rack and drapes them over his arm. “Let’s try these on and see which ones fit the best.”

  As h
e leads me to the dressing room, we walk past a mannequin wearing a maroon colored top that hangs off one shoulder. It’s loose on the shoulders and more fitted around the chest and torso. Without me saying anything, Alex reaches out and nabs a size small from the rack beside it.

  “I don’t—” I start to protest, but he cuts me off.

  “You do. Don’t deny yourself the things you want.”

  I open my mouth to speak again, but he keeps going. “Don’t try to justify it either. You want something? Get it. And before you argue again, I’m payin’. If you want to push, we’ll figure out a way for you to pay me back. For now, pick out what you like and let me take care of you.” His voice softens at the end.

  “Okay.”

  He starts walking, stopping at the entrance to the ladies' dressing room and sharply raps twice on the wall. When nobody answers, he snags my hand and tugs me into the hall separating the rooms.

  “You need me, or are you good? If you need me, we should take the biggest one. If you’re good, take this one on the end, and I can stand right here.”

  His deep brown eyes peer at me, patiently waiting for my answer, and that’s all it takes for me to give him one.

  “I’m good.”

  “Then I’ll be right here, blossom.”

  Something changes with his words. Something inside me. It’s as if a part of me deep in my chest unfurls and takes his words right in that tight space, holding them close. With an answering smile, I relieve him of the clothes and shut the dressing room door behind me.

  Alone in this tight space, my heart rate picks up. I dart my gaze from corner to wall until I land on his black booted feet just outside the door, and an instant calm consumes me. He’s right there, and he’s not leaving until I’m finished.

  It only takes a few minutes to decide which pants fit best and slide on the top, and sooner than I thought, I’m tugging the door open. When I emerge, Alex waits until I stop in front of him rather than turning around to greet me. He nods toward the clothes in my arms. “Fit?”