by Gabi Moore
Taking the opportunity to get up and stretch, I left Piper on the floor, cuddled up in a ball next to me. My mind recalled the location of some blankets, and I grabbed every single one I could get. The weather was bearable, but I didn’t want to deal with bearable any longer. I didn’t want Piper to have to deal with bearable either. I wanted us to be able to get a good night’s sleep for once, and to me, that meant being fucking warm. I laid out more than a few wool blankets and made space in them for the two of us.
Lifting her up in her sleep, and setting her down again gently on the blanket, I put her to bed. Pulling several other layers of wool over our bodies, I laid down next to her, and stared at the place where the moon was peaking through the cloud cover.
Piper didn’t wake up, but she did roll over and cuddle up next to me. Her face was in my armpit while the two of us fell back asleep. I smiled, knowing that in that moment, I was experiencing something that would keep me warm for years to come.
That night instead of feeling the comfort of sleep, I found myself thrashing about through a nightmare. The situation was an abstract format of consequential behavior. Cause and effect. Fate. That sort of thing. Like one marble leading up toward other marbles on a playboard, I observed the consequences of my actions. In addition to the benefit of receiving a life review, I was also treated to brief reviews of conversations with Piper’s father.
His voice echoed through my mind throughout the course of the evening, and I found myself repeatedly heading toward the same points of conclusion. The essential message could be broken down as follows:
First, each time you have come into contact with a conflicted situation, you have pursued a solution which has been in line with your training.
Second, your training is valuable, but it is incomplete.
Three, make a decision to be the type of man who knows the value of life.
Four, complete your training.
Each point was reiterated in a different format at different parts of the dream, but the core message was there. When I woke up, the details of the dream seemed to fog over, and I was left with a single distilled sensation that my violence had not only been instrumental in increasing the suffering of others, but the very idea that I had killed while thinking I was solving problems was problematic.
What is the difference between me and them? I wondered, the relativism of the situation firmly entrenched in my psyche. They think that they are achieving some great good, or that their behaviors are justified, and I feel the same way. Yet, in spite of my efforts, no great good is ever achieved; only misery, loss, and sadness; only greater complications.
I turned over to see the woman who had chosen to come to me the night before. She had wanted me to own her. Rough sex was really just a desire to manifest the out of control feeling that we know from within the rest of life. We want to be able to experience that in the context of a safe space; I understood that. What I didn’t understand was how drastically my mind had shifted gears once we had orgasmed together.
I felt as though I had been possessed by a sort of sweetness. The desire to be tender toward her, and to really treasure the moment that we were able to share with one another became my sole focus. As I laid there and watched her sleep, I got the feeling that the two of us were going to be going through some difficult times ahead. In spite of the impending conflict, it felt right to have someone to face these troubles with; someone to take the edge off when things got too intense.
Seeing Piper handle the sailboat as she sailed up to Bastion was a remarkable thing for me. I was in awe, but it was because I had judged her. I thought she was nothing more than a punk girl, who thought it was cool to be involved with trafficking and dubious assholes like that guy who visited her apartment.
I shook my head while staring at her.
The guy could have been decent, once upon a time, but he didn’t seem that special to me. Seemed like a right piece of shit. What made matters worse, was that his face was somehow familiar. I knew I had seen someone with facial characteristics like that before. I couldn’t exactly place it, as he was wearing glasses, and I only caught a look at his cheekbones and his lips. Really, he could've been anybody.
I guess all that really matters is that soon enough that fucker is either going to be dead or we we’re going to flee the country, I thought.
There you go again, came a soft voice from inside of my head.
I paused in my reflections, in order to pay attention to what I was doing on a sub-conscious level. Then I realized what was going on.
Without even considering the ramifications of my dream, I had already been plotting to use violence to kill someone, and ‘solve’ another problem. The will to use violence against my enemies had become so entrenched in my personality that I didn’t even stop to question violent plans while they were in their conception phase.
How deep does this go? I thought, wondering what other activities went on in my mind. What other activities had become so rote that I pursued them, and formulated their execution without so much as the slightest consideration that I might be hurting myself.
Just make a commitment, I replied, trying to bring a solution to my own inner turmoil about the subject. Make a commitment that from here on out, you are not going to do any more killing; it’s not that hard, you just have to make a choice, and stick to it.
The words rang clearly in my mind, and I looked down at Piper.
She opened her eyes, blinked sleepily, and smiled at me. Closing her eyes then, she pulled the blankets up around her shoulder and went back to sleep. She looked so beautiful, and I nearly found myself wanting to cry, thinking that I had been instrumental in some way for the death of her father.
I nodded.
Never again, I swore. Tomorrow, we run.
Chapter 18 - Piper
When I woke up next to him, I was a bit shocked at first, but that feeling soon gave way to a slight sensation of peace and comfort.
He had fucked me well last night, and that was more than I could say about most men that I came across. Or rather, most men that came to me.
As a woman, I wasn’t exactly shy about my sexuality. I knew what sort of impact I could have on a man, and I wasn’t afraid to exercise that power in pursuit of a particular goal.
My brazen approach had gotten me in trouble a number of times, but last night was not one of those times. There was a roughness in this man, that I liked. I wanted to be handled every now and then, just because the rest of the world was too damn politically correct. What made things better was that after being rough with me, he had enough sensibility and care to show signs of tenderness in the wake of our passion.
I’m no expert, but in my book, that will keep me interested for a while.
I was still naked and caked with the smell of sex from the night before. When I snuggled up closer to him, I watched him gently open his eyes. He was still sleepy.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” I started. “Your cock felt great last night, and I’m just trying to soak up whatever residual joy there might be in that body of yours.”
My words were dry, and my humor was full. There was enough mirth in my voice to give me a bit of calm, though my heart felt a deep sense of pain the moment my attention turned inward. I didn’t want to think about it, but I knew that fucking the pain away wasn’t a realistic option either. Eventually, the pain would creep into the sex, and then there would be no joy to be found anywhere.
Misery really is a destructive thing, if ignored. Fortunately, army boy here didn’t have any desire to play therapist. I was grateful for that. There was a sensitivity in his eyes, as though he knew what I was going through. More importantly, there was a pressure underneath his expression - here was a man with more things to think about than my emotional state.
Everybody loves support, but I’ve never been the type to appreciate uninvited involvement in the processing of my emotional distress.
Some guys can get up in your business like they are going to hel
p you or something, and that honestly doesn’t always work. When I was younger, I may have fallen for something like that — these days, I know a human has to take care of themselves if they want to be of any use to another person; learned that one the hard way.
“So, how far have you taken your Dad’s ship before?” he stumbled over the word ‘dad’, like he thought for a moment it would be a bummer for him to say.
“You’re considerate,” I replied.
“Sorry, I know it’s a bit soon to be business as usu--”
“No,” I paused, stopping him in mid-sentence. “I meant it.”
I sat up and stretched, and then looked him in the eye. As things went, in my mind, I could have toppled him over then and there, and brought his dick into my mouth. The man was considerate, and capable. Honestly, there were few other prerequisites for me these days. Regardless, I opted to let him go with a pass.
“We’ve taken it around the inner sea, but nowhere far. I doubt it could get you in one piece to America. What did you have in mind?”
“Not sure, honestly,” he said. “I was just trying to figure out our options. There are a number of places we could go, but it would be difficult pretty much regardless of the destination. The primary concern I have is that I’m not sure how they tracked us to Bastion.”
I nodded, understanding his concern.
“I was thinking about that myself. They could have tracked me when I left the harbor.”
I bit my lip, thinking about the possibilities.
Just the thought that someone might have been there while I wasn’t looking, huddling behind some kind of crate or leaning up against some darkened corner. I had gotten more involved in this world of intrigue and disaster, but the idea that there were still so many people who had so much more investment and skills in the arts of deception — that made me shiver on the inside.
“I’m not sure I want skills like that…” I thought out loud.
“What’s that?” he asked, interested in what I was saying, and fully attentive.
I backed off, feeling undeserving of such attention. Some part inside of me was shying away from being aware of what had transpired between the two of us. Some childish, bullshit, infantile fantasy where I wasn’t good enough to be cared for — low self esteem will get you, and when it does, all you can do is remove yourself from the situation, and hope for the best.
“Look,” I said, trying to get a hold of myself. “My mind’s doing a lot right now, and I need a minute to clear my head before we get on this topic.”
He nodded, closing his eyes slightly. “Take your time, I’ll brainstorm a few of our options.”
With that, I headed out to the edge of the boat, wrapping my naked body in the worn blankets that we had slept under the night before. The wind was cool on my skin, but the blankets kept my core temperature where it needed to be.
Tears came down from my face, and were whipped dry by the short bursts of air that were brought up from the waves below. We had been moving at a slow pace throughout the evening - practically a crawl, and straight into the sea. Looking around, I couldn’t see any land. I wasn’t bothered though — there was no reason to be. We could turn any direction and it land within a day or so if we simply committed to a direction and moved that way. I thought for a moment, I’d be able to think of something. Rome.
I laughed to myself.
“We could always go to Rome,” I muttered.
There were reasons to go there, certainly, but at this point, every mental pathway I walked down ended up taking me right back to the exact place I didn’t want to be.
When I turned around to see what Tyler was doing, I saw that he was meticulously checking the cabin and the outside for something.
“What are you looking for?” I asked, after watching him for a moment. He didn’t reply at first, and instead continued in his work. Satisfied not to interrupt, and just watch him work, I sat and stared at him while he made a complete round of the boat. When he came up empty in his search, I looked at him expectantly.
“So, what did you find?”
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head bitterly, looking down at me.
I could tell he was frustrated, but there was something else happening in his eyes.
“Are you checking me out?” I asked, hardly believing what I was seeing.
He smiled in response.
“I like your outfit is all,” he said dismissively.
He could see my breasts between the covers of the sheets, and didn’t bother to hide the fact that his eyes were looking down at me, along the length of my entire body.
I snapped at him, trying to get his attention back to the task at hand. Not because I didn’t like being checked out, but because I was really curious about what he was doing on my dad’s ship.
“I was checking the ship for some kind of tracking device,” he said, his eyes scanning the surface of the ship now. “I’ve looked everywhere possible. Everywhere except for the hull underneath. I could dive in, but we’d have to stop the ship for a while, and that would take some time. Did you see anyone follow you while you left the dock?”
I shook my head.
“I thought about that too,” I said. “Hard to believe that someone could have been there and watched me without my knowledge. I don’t mean to be arrogant. It’s not that I don’t believe someone couldn’t sneak up on me. I’m not a spy or anything like that. I just didn’t expect that I’d ever be involved in something as devious as this.”
My fists clenched up at my sides, an unconscious expression of my anger. He noticed my fists curling around, and my nails digging into my side. Making a decision to let me be, he opted to relax instead of me. Another point of respect for the man. By my own will, and through a moment of lost patience, my fingers released their hold on my side.
There may be blood there, now, I thought to myself, my awareness coming back into my body. I took a deep breath and let my shoulders fall down, attempting to physically relax my body once more.
“They took something from you,” he said, “and that’s not something that you’re ever going to get back, but there was a lot more of that man that they will never be able to take from you. My suggestion would be to focus on that, and think about how you and I can find someplace safe to go.”
After he spoke, he moved closer to me and held my hand in his. He brought me close to his body, and we hugged one another. My body tensed in the reminder of the pleasures we had shared the night before. I allowed myself to relax and fall into him. I opened my blanket, and brought him close to my body so that he could touch my skin with his hands. He was warm against my cool skin, and I was grateful for his touch.
“All it takes to get a person locked inside of your head is for them to be there once when you really need them,” I said, kissing his shoulder with my lips.
The comment was more of a reflection of me than it was anything else. I knew well enough the effects of trauma on intimate relationships. Likely this was a temporary thing, but for what it was, I felt like it was good. He held me, by pressing his arms around me, and grinding his hips up against mine. He didn’t make any move to fuck me, though, at that point, I wouldn’t necessarily have turned him away; in fact, I wouldn’t have dreamed of doing that. Instead, he leaned in toward me and held his hands out on either side of my chin. Directing my face toward his, he asked me again to think carefully about the future.
“I’ll help you as much as I can,” he said, “and you don’t have to stay with me any longer than you like. I just think that for now, you might benefit from having me around. I think that I should hang out with you a while — at least until you are safe. Now think. Is there a place you could go? Is there anywhere you can go where they might not catch you?”
I shook my head. “I’ve been almost exclusively affiliated with Maurice for years now. It wasn’t always like this, but he showed me a world that was so much bigger than what I had imagined before. I let go of all of my previous relationships —
well, almost all of them.”
My hand went instinctively toward the left side of my hair. I had still kept it, in spite of the wild love of the night before, was a hairpin gifted to me by Angela. The pin was of her own design and came complete with the best wishes that she could offer me. My fingers touched the small artifact, and I treasured it for a moment, as I treasured Angela. Of course, it was a little techie thing, but it was homemade, and that counted more than anything else. She had given me jewelry and a cell phone. Just hold onto these for me, she had said. This one is for good luck, and this one is for business.
I took a deep breath and let go of my memories.
“We don’t have many other choices,” I concluded. “I think our best bet would be to go to Rome. When my father first sent you to me, he told you that I had the ability to help you get out of the country.”
He nodded in acknowledgment and looked at me with intense eyes. I knew that I had his attention. I reached forward and placed my hand on his chest. The movement was impulsive and unabashedly instinctual. I let out another sigh and then resolved myself to the future that we had to face.
“I handled international business for Maurice through a third party contact,” I said. “This was a person who operated on a regular basis outside of the confines of the organization, though he did have regular contact with me. He and I got together once, though we never made anything of it. He was far too busy with his other mistresses to spend any quality time with me as a person. That was years ago. Beyond that time period, I’ve had a few incidental contact type situations with him, but mostly everything has been business related. The reason my dad knows about the experience at all is because I had to borrow a boat once to get to Rome overnight; not unlike what we’re doing now, except that those were very different, and less dire circumstances.”
