Millions

by Pepper Winters

  If you ever decide to rescue another as Elder rescued you, then our doors are always open.

  Tess.

  “Orphanage?” Elder asked, a strained rasp in his voice. “Fucking hell. That woman really doesn’t know when to stop, does she?” Elder reached over and slammed the laptop closed. “I’m so sorry, Pim.”

  I let him take the computer, shell shock making me mute and frozen. It wasn’t the fact she’d reminded me all over again that having children naturally would never happen for us. It was the fact she offered a family so readily, so easily, so soon.

  I’m not ready.

  I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.

  Adoption?

  I...

  Shaking off new fears and questions, I smiled reassuringly—more worried that Elder would stress out than about my own shortcomings. “She’s fine. She only means well.” Kissing his cheek, I bounced off the bed. “I’ll go rustle up some snacks. We’ll watch the sunset.”

  Elder grabbed my wrist before I could leave, pulling me back and cupping my jaw. With blazing black eyes, he ran his thumb over my bottom lip, staring way too intense and way too knowingly into my soul. “I love you, Tasmin Blythe.” He kissed me sharp and deep. “Don’t ever forget that.”

  Whatever worries or heartaches I’d had at being incomplete vanished.

  I was his.

  He was mine.

  We were a family already.

  * * * * *

  Another few days passed while Elder recuperated.

  Slowly, he left his bedroom and ventured onto the deck where warmer airs and gentle currents meant sunlight and dinners alfresco injected health back into his body.

  Jolfer gave us daily sailing reports, and on the ninth day at sea, when we finally neared America, he asked if Elder was ready to dock or would prefer to sail a little more to allow final healing.

  Elder gave me a look and a grin so innocent and pure, it took my breath away. “What do you want to do, Pim?”

  “It’s not what I want, but you.”

  “Wrong. It’s about both of us.” He limped toward me, his body tall and tight even with his sling and ankle brace still on. “I want to keep you all to myself, for a little longer.”

  I smiled. “What did you have in mind?”

  He turned to face his captain. “Jolfer, I think we’ll take the scenic route.”

  Jolfer broke into a grin. “Right you are, sir. Good choice.” With a quick salute, he made his way back to the bridge.

  I waited until he was out of ear-shot before I followed Elder to where staff had set up a platter of smoked salmon, cheese, and homemade lemonade beside very comfortable looking red and white deck chairs. “Scenic way?”

  Elder smirked, easing his way into one of the recliners with a wince. Even with his stiffness and fading bruises, he looked more like the man who’d demanded a penny for my thoughts rather than the one who’d limped to bed in pieces.

  My penny bracelet jingled on my wrist as I sat down, agreeing with me.

  Being bed bound Elder hadn’t had another episode like the one he’d had after the battle with the Chinmoku. His tendencies had given him some breathing room and it showed in how light-hearted he was—untormented for a change.

  Taking a sip of lemonade, he said, “The Bahamas.”

  I froze, cheese and cracker halfway to my mouth. “We’re going to the Bahamas?”

  He shrugged. “Why not? It’s technically on the way. Kind of.” He laughed. “I think we deserve a vacation, don’t you?”

  I shivered with absolute joy. Why not indeed? “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll come to the Bahamas with me.” He chewed a cracker, sunshine dappling his blue black hair.

  How insanely incredible had my life become, and what did I ever do to deserve it?

  Unable to contain a laugh full of bubbling happiness, I nodded. “I’ll come to the Bahamas with you. Since you asked so nicely.”

  * * * * *

  I’d seen a lot of things in my short life.

  I’d lived a lot of things.

  But this? This azure blue paradise? It was the first time I’d been dumbstruck by natural beauty and near tears at how grateful I was to witness it.

  The Phantom sailed around the inlets of the many islands in the Bahamas. I didn’t know the names of each different atoll or land mass, but each was as stunning as the last.

  The sun set before we laid anchor, and I fell asleep in Elder’s arms trembling with anticipation of tomorrow.

  The next day was spent admiring the view from the deck. Relaxing under the hot sun, we grew browner by the hour. Elder looked longingly at the water and even opened the railing to assess what the jump from the deck to tide would do to his freshly knitted-together ankle.

  Michaels came running just as Elder stripped off his t-shirt and tossed away his sling with a disgusted look. All ideas of swimming were curtailed thanks to strict doctor’s orders.

  The following day we did the same—minus the attempt at swimming—relaxing and sailing around various parts of the islands, taking our time to find the perfect spot. The beauty of the tropical wilderness beckoned us to explore, and we both grew antsy to trade water for land.

  The third day, we docked at an island called Eleuthera. The warm breeze carried scents of sand, coconuts, and palm trees. The need to feel the icing sugar sand between my toes and search for waterfalls had me pacing the polished decks of the Phantom as if I were in captivity once again.

  Finally, Elder had had enough of being an invalid and summoned Michaels to perform a final check-up. His stitches were removed, his ribs checked, his finger splint discarded, and his sling retired. His bruises and cuts had healed faster than mine ever had, leaving no trace of violence on his skin.

  The constellation of injuries had shrunk to just one—his ankle.

  Michaels wasn’t happy with Elder’s slow recuperation on the joint and refused to take the brace off just yet. He had to obey to avoid worsening the already irreversible damage to his tendons and ligaments.

  Once Michaels had delivered the stern instructions, Elder shooed him away and did the exact opposite by storming to the bridge to talk to Jolfer.

  I had no idea what they discussed, but he came back looking less pissed off and promised a surprise tomorrow.

  That night, as I stood on the deck watching the stars curl with smoke from Elder’s medicinal use of marijuana, Selix appeared with a satellite phone and passed it to me.

  I raised my eyebrow. “What is it?”

  He smiled. “Someone wants to talk to you.”

  I shrank back, staring at the phone as if my past was trying to make contact and drag me back. My new present seemed too good to be true. I was so in awe of the effortless way Elder had introduced me to travel and luxury; even now, I pinched myself regularly to make sure I hadn’t fallen into a coma back at the white mansion and might wake up at any moment in horror.

  It seemed without the threat of death or mortal injury casting a shadow over us, I couldn’t accept that life could be this...uncomplicated...this wonderful.

  Selix chuckled. “It’s not going to bite you, Pim.”

  “I don’t know anyone who knows this number. I don’t even know this number.”

  He grabbed my hand and slapped the heavier-than-normal cell phone into it. “You know one person. I suggest you speak to her.”

  Leaving me speechless, he wandered off, cocking his chin at Elder for him to follow.

  Elder inhaled the last puff and tossed the discarded joint into the waves below. “Talk to your mother, Pim. I have things to discuss with Selix.”

  I didn’t have a choice as he left me alone with the galaxies above.

  My hand shook as I raised the phone to my ear. Elder and Selix laughed at something in the distance, strolling to the other side of the yacht.

  “Hello?” My voice remained quiet and hesitant, still distrustful no matter what I’d been told.

  “Are you Tasmin Blythe
?” a curt female asked.

  Thanks to Elder occasionally using my true name, it no longer sounded as foreign as it once did. “I-I am.”

  “And do you accept a toll charge from Sonya Blythe, prisoner 890776E?”

  My fingers clutched the phone tighter. “I do.”

  “Connecting you now.”

  A crackle and hiss and then my mother’s anxious voice. “Min?”

  I fought the need to sit suddenly. “Hi, Mum.”

  She exhaled heavily. “I’ve been trying to call you for weeks. Is everything okay? I feared that you’d been taken again. That something awful had happened.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Because you said you’d call and you didn’t.”

  “Oh.” Shame filled me. “I’m so sorry.” I’d been on my own and blocked from all communication for so long, I’d forgotten the simple requirement and expectations from others to check in now and again. “I didn’t think. I’m so sorry. I’m fine. Just had a couple of interesting weeks but everything is better now.”

  “Define interesting.” Her voice turned sharp.

  “Oh...nothing really.” I waved my hand in the air, struggling to omit rather than lie. “It’s over now, so it’s in the past.”

  “Well, that’s good to hear.” Her sharp tone switched to a smile. “It’s so nice to talk to you. Almost as incredible as it was to see you that day.”

  I padded barefoot over to a lounger and sat. Knowing my mother was in jail for killing my murderer still wasn’t easy to comprehend—especially when speaking to her like any normal conversation on the phone.

  “It was amazing seeing you, too. How are they treating you in there?”

  She chuckled. “Fine.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay, Tasmin. But that isn’t why I called. I’m far more interested to know how you are.”

  I smiled, looking around at the starry skies and warmth of the Caribbean. “I’m doing wonderfully.”

  “Oh, do tell.”

  I laughed, unable to link the woman asking for details and genuinely caring about my answers to the cold-hearted mother from my childhood.

  It was as if she’d followed my thoughts, interrupting before I could reply. “You know, I’m not that person anymore, Min. I’ve given up being so suspicious and judgmental. Living in this place...it teaches you to be wary and keep your guard up, but it also shows the depth of human connection and compassion. I want to know about your life. I need to know you’re happy.”

  Tears filled my eyes as I struggled with things to say. Assurances that I’d never hold back again, fully willing to have this relationship with her.

  Once again, she jumped into the silence, not as comfortable nor as friendly with it as I was. “Oh, I almost forgot. I arranged my lawyer to release the funds I was holding in a trust fund for you. Your Mickey Mouse watch from your father is also in the trust. Whenever you’re back in town, you can collect it from their offices.”

  I snapped back to reality. “Wait, what?”

  “I told you I took your watch back from that bastard.”

  I sat tall. “Yes, I remember and I’m ever so grateful, but about the other stuff you just said—”

  “What? About the money from selling the apartment? It doesn’t equate to much, thanks to the large mortgage I had, but at least you’ll have a couple hundred grand to buy your own place or pay for your adventures rather than rely on Mr. Prest.”

  Wow.

  “I-I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t need to say anything. That money is yours. It’s been waiting for you. Gathering a piddly amount of interest over the years. It’s yours and ready to spend on whatever you want.” Her voice softened. “I’m happy you’ve found love, Minnie Mouse, but I also don’t want you to trade one captivity for another.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean being with him because you love him is one thing. Being with him because you have no means to get away is another.” She sighed as if this topic taxed her. “I want you to be happy, but I also want you to be free. I gave away my freedom, hoping to give you yours. I failed, but Mr. Prest didn’t. I will forever be grateful to him, but if there’s ever a day when you need to leave, then you now have the ability to do so. You deserve love and freedom, Tasmin. Don’t ever confuse the two or believe they go hand in hand.”

  I blinked in the darkness, staring at the majesty of the Phantom and the shapes of Elder and Selix as they shared a drink. I couldn’t imagine ever not being happy with him, but if it meant so much to my mother, how could I not accept? “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “You can thank me by sending some photos of where you are and what you’re doing.”

  I laughed, chest tight with amazement at how generous she was. “That I can do.”

  I didn’t know why but guilt sat heavier with every breath. Guilt that I was here in paradise on a yacht worth more than ten of our apartments in London and she lived in an eight by eight cell.

  Swallowing, I admitted, “We’re sailing to America.”

  I’d save the Bahamas for another day—a day when I could deliver such incredible news without coming across as bragging or spoilt. I feared the awe inside me for this wondrous place would come across as rude if I gushed.

  “Are you going via the Caribbean? If you left from England, that would be an easy detour.”

  I rubbed my arms as a cloud ghosted over the moon, drenching us in darkness.

  Damn.

  I paused before saying quietly, “We’re moored off the island of Eleuthera right now. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

  She laughed. “You didn’t know how to tell me you’re in one of the most beautiful places on earth with a man who I hope is taking care of you? Tasmin, that’s exactly what I want to hear. It makes my existence so much easier in here knowing you’re out there living the life I always hoped for you.”

  “I can...tell you more if you’d like.”

  “I’d love that.”

  I reclined against the lounger, shy all of a sudden. What did daughters tell their mothers? Were all avenues of life permitted or was it more selective and private? “Where would you like me to start?”

  She sighed, giggling gently. “How about from the moment you left me when you came back from the dead and I found out I still have a daughter?”

  “Okay, well...” I stretched out, testing the waters on this new dynamic. “First, there was a beautiful dress that Elder bought for me and then a ball at the most spectacular manor.”

  “Sounds incredible.”

  “And then there was the bracelet Elder gave me and...”

  And for thirty magical minutes, I spoke to my mother like I’d never spoken to her before.

  I told her about Hawksridge Hall, my penny bracelet, the way my heart soared and pattered whenever I was around Elder. I told her about Monte Carlo and finding out what she’d done for me. I told her about Morocco and how Elder stood in a storm and waited for me to decide not to die.

  I told her all the good stuff and withheld the bad.

  I didn’t tell her about the Chinmoku, or Q shooting Elder, or the battle in France.

  I didn’t tell her about my tongue and how long it took me to speak.

  We’d both had enough death in our lives to permit it power over our conversation.

  By the time an officer kicked her off the phone, we’d lived in a world of laughter and friendship, learning once and for all how to be family.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  ______________________________

  Elder

  THREE WEEKS FLEW past.

  Three incredible, normal, so relaxing they were almost boring weeks, where Pim and I holidayed in the Bahamas.

  We cruised the islands and chose our anchoring spots based on weather, location, and what adventure we wanted to enjoy that day.

  The first week was spent sunbathing on sugar soft sand, enjoying the facilities of five-star ho
tels, and drinking fruity cocktails.

  The second week was spent wandering local townships—me walking as normal as I could with my booted ankle, and Pim evolving from brave girl to beautiful woman.

  I only had to look at her to grow hard.

  Keeping my distance grew more difficult by the day, but with my body still suffering minor aches and pains, I didn’t want to add sex to the mix.

  By the third week, I grew tired of the brace and against Michaels’s instruction, I removed it completely.

  The joint was weak.

  It rolled at the slightest misstep and pounded enough to give me a headache from gritting my teeth. But I got on with it because no way in hell did I want to miss out on showing Pimlico the hidden jungles and waterfalls of the Caribbean.

  By day, we explored untouched islands and used a jet ski to skim around the different atolls, choosing a spot for a picnic and walk.

  By night, we ate a dinner on board—sometimes in the dining room and others informal on the deck.

  For three weeks, we learned how to be together without panic attacks or revenge plots. We got to know each other all over again, and every day as we woke side by side and explored side by side and ate side by side and went to bed side by side, I fell all the more in love with her.

  Every hour.

  Every day.

  All the goddamn time.

  A simple smile, boom my heart exploded.

  A barely there touch, crash my body crumpled.

  A kiss beneath the stars, bang my soul was no longer mine but hers, through and through.

  I wanted to stay here forever and forget about stressful reunions or obligations to a family who hated me, but I also wanted to right everything I’d done wrong so I no longer had to worry or condemn any future happiness.

  Once I’d apologised and set my consciousness to rights, Pim and I could return here and never leave.

  On our twenty-third night in paradise, I arranged the kitchen to prepare a local delicacy and sat down with Pim as if it were any other night.

  But it wasn’t any other night.

  I’d deliberately kept my distance from her sexually for the past month—letting my body heal until I could hold my own in stamina and ensure my stupid brain wouldn’t over focus.