Because of You

by Julie Cannon

  “If you need anything, call me.” They’d bought Kelly a cell phone, and Barrett’s number was first on speed dial.

  “I will.”

  Barrett clasped her hands and asked, “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

  “No, but I will be,” she replied, clearly surprising Barrett by hugging her again. “Now go.” Kelly turned her around so she faced the street. “Your work here is done. Breakfast is at eight. Don’t be late or your eggs will get cold.”

  Kelly gave Barrett a slight push that got her moving down the sidewalk toward her car.

  *

  Kelly closed the door before she could change her mind and ask Barrett to stay. Barrett made her feel safe, and she enjoyed her company. Now that they were out from under the constant eyes and scrutiny of their guards and were able to talk freely like normal people, she was getting a sense of Barrett’s personality. She was intelligent but had a good dose of common sense. She was commanding and forceful but could be gentle and caring.

  While in Panama waiting for her passport they’d gone for a walk and ended up in a nearby park. It was the middle of the day, and a few mothers were pushing toddlers on swings while an elderly man tossed a ball to his dog. They were sitting on one of the benches when the dog trotted over and dropped her soggy tennis ball in Barrett’s lap.

  “Hey, girl, what’s this?” she asked, rubbing the Border collie on the top of her head and around her ears. “You wanna play? Is that it?” She stood and threw the ball, and the dog took off after it. She brought it back to Barrett and looked at her expectantly.

  “Looks like you have a new friend.”

  “Yeah, she’s a cutie,” Barrett said, rubbing the dog behind the ears and throwing the ball again.

  “You’re a chick magnet. She came right up to you.”

  “Yeah, well, you know dogs and kids are a good judge of character.” Barrett lobbed the ball to her left and the dog took off, but this time took it back to its owner. Barrett chuckled. “Obviously I’ve lost my animal magnetism.”

  “Oh, I doubt you’ll ever lose it,” Kelly said, enjoying herself for the first time in a very, very long time. Sitting on a park bench, the sun warming her face with a charming, intelligent woman was more than she’d ever imagined she would ever do again. But here she was sitting next to the woman who’d made it all possible. Overwhelming gratitude suddenly made her grab Barrett into a hug.

  “Hey,” Barrett said, obviously surprised. “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s that for?”

  “Because thank you just isn’t enough.”

  Kelly closed the front door and her house was suddenly very empty. Of course it would be, she told herself. An hour ago thirty people were here, and now it was just her. She stopped. If she counted from the day she left for the medical mission, it had been more than two years since she’d been completely alone. The thought stunned her. She’d been with her medical team, then her guards, the hospital staff, and Barrett in the next room in the hotel in Panama.

  Her steps echoed in her suddenly claustrophobic house. During one of their discussions Dr. Hinton had told her she’d more than likely have some difficulty transitioning back into her life. She might feel completely helpless or experience sensory overload and anything in between. She might feel numb or anxious. After having every minute of her life under the control of someone else without that direction, without being told what to do and when to do it, she might feel like she was drowning in emptiness.

  Needle, she needed to get her dog Needle. Ariel had said she was at her house and she’d bring her over tomorrow. Brushing her anxiousness aside, Kelly wandered through her house. She had bought the single-story ranch as an investment when the housing market tanked several years ago. She felt guilty reaping the benefit of someone else’s misfortune but eventually got over it. What was unfortunate was that before the previous owner left, he’d trashed the place. Every appliance was gone, every wall had at least three holes in the Sheetrock, and every faucet was broken. The toilets were clogged with God knew what, and the garage door was off the tracks. The yard was equally destroyed with weeds that grazed her butt as she walked by. But after several months, several thousands of dollars, and too many sore muscles and blisters to count, it was finally almost the way she wanted it. All that was left was the fourth bedroom currently serving as the proverbial junk room. Bedroom number two was the guest room, number three the office, but her pride and joy was her bedroom.

  The large four-poster king-size bed sat in the middle of the large room. The bedspread had cost much more than she’d ever dreamed she would spend, but Kelly had fallen in love with it the minute she saw it. She’d painted the walls to bring out the various shades of blue, and the pillows completed the look. She wanted a warm, sensuous feeling in this room, a space she could go to nestle down, cuddle up, and make love. She could still see the imprint on the bed where Barrett had sat beside her. She hadn’t said much, but it had comforted her just having Barrett here. She could get used to having Barrett around. It was easy to be with her. She didn’t feel any pressure to be something she wasn’t, a survivor of a horrible ordeal, a woman trying to get her life back. Barrett understood she was one of a handful of people that had shared that harrowing experience.

  What would it have been like if she’d met Barrett under different circumstances? Fat chance they ever would have met. For crying out loud, they lived hundreds of miles apart. They didn’t travel in the same business or social circles. She wondered what Barrett’s friends were like. Were they successful business owners like her? Did they live near her or were they scattered around the world? Were they all lesbians or did she have straight friends? Those were just a few of the questions that drifted through her head as she washed a few loads of clothes and her dishes. She and Barrett had been together for months in the jungle, but when they were able to talk the subjects were more along the lines of survival—not last weekend’s barbeque chatter.

  The dryer buzzer shook her from her thoughts, and she loaded the basket with warm clothes. Returning to the couch she reached for the socks and started pairing them. Suddenly she dropped a pair like they were on fire, her hands shaking uncontrollably. Her heart raced and she couldn’t breathe. She staggered to her feet, the basket of clothes falling to the floor. She grabbed the back of a nearby chair to stay on her feet. Instantly the room closed in. She had to get out.

  *

  Barrett couldn’t sleep. The hotel was nice, quiet, and a mirror image of any one of the hundreds she’d stayed in before. Different colors, different address, but one hotel room was about the same as any other. Sometimes she thought her bedroom at home was the strange place. So why couldn’t she sleep?

  A sliver of light from the parking lot broke through a gap in the drapes. She lay on her back with her hands behind her head. The ceiling fan was on low, its wide blades silently circling above her head. Kelly had a ceiling fan above her bed. Was she watching it spin around or was she sleeping? Had anyone else watched the blades spin in the dark? Anyone other than Kelly felt the cool breeze on their naked body? Who had lain under that fan and run their hands over her soft skin? Traced the curve of her breast, the arch of her back, the wet warmth of her? Who had kissed her senseless until she cried out their name in the dark. Who had taken her to the crest of passion and held her as she tumbled over and down into the haze of climax?

  Sweet Jesus! Barrett threw off the sheet and practically jumped out of the bed. She opened the drapes wider, lighting the room enough to find the open bottle of Crown Royal on the minibar. Her hands shook slightly as she poured the contents into a glass and added a splash of Coke. Using her finger to stir the two together she looked out the window.

  What in the hell was she doing having fantasies about Kelly? She was just beginning to recover and get her life back. And she was straight. Oh, and pregnant. She had absolutely no business thinking of her as anything other than a friend. What a pig. For God’s sake. She needed her head examined if she were thinki
ng about going there.

  But what was she going to do now? She couldn’t un-think something like that. Pretend she never thought about someone naked. How Kelly’s skin would feel under her fingertips, her taste on her tongue, the little sounds she made, her moans of ecstasy, the sharp intake of breath at the first entry into very private places. Barrett couldn’t not imagine the sound of Kelly’s voice whispering her name, begging for release.

  “Oh, God, what am I doing?” she asked the night. She repeated the question over and over as she paced the small room. “Get it together, Barrett,” she said forcefully, changing her approach. “She doesn’t need this from you.” Actually she could name at least a dozen things she needed to do for Kelly.

  Kelly was home and on her way to recovery. She had a safe place to live, food to eat, and tomorrow would have reliable transportation. She’d spoken with the head of nursing where Kelly worked before she was kidnapped, and the woman had guaranteed that Kelly would have a job to return to when she was ready. Barrett had asked to keep their discussion confidential, and the woman had easily agreed. Dr. Hinton’s fees would be paid, and Barrett had taken care of the hospital bill before leaving Panama. Her attorney would handle any credit issues and overdue bills. What more was there to do for her?

  She needed to get home and back to work. Debra had called several times with work-related items and each time tried to get Barrett to tell her where she was and what she was doing. When she’d received Trevor’s call two weeks ago, she’d run out of the office with barely a second glance. Once she’d calmed down a bit, she’d called Debra to tell her she’d be out for a while.

  “Out for what?” Debra asked in her not-so-subtle way.

  “I have to do something.”

  “Like what?” When Barrett didn’t answer she said, “What are you doing, Barrett? Where are you and who are you with? Are you shacking up with another redhead? God, I hope so. You need a good lay. You haven’t been yourself since you got back. You space out in meetings, when you even bother to show up. I don’t know how many times I’ve caught you staring into space. And quite frankly, you left your decision-making ability, sense of humor, and common courtesy behind in that jungle. You’ve been a complete bitch, a pain in the ass, and a space cadet since you got back. Now, I don’t begin to know what you went through while you were gone,” Debra said, barely stopping to take a breath, “but a lot of people were affected by your kidnapping back here at home, and we deserve more than what you’ve been giving us.”

  Debra had been right. She was a completely different person than before. She had only been gone for seven months, but could that short time completely change a person? She hadn’t expected it. Nothing really affected her or threw her. She was a pragmatist and, when faced with something ugly, simply addressed it and moved on. End of problem. She’d been proud of that descriptor, but had she left that behind in the jungle as well? She’d lost her edge and didn’t care.

  She called Debra and when she got to her room and, greeted with the same “where are you and what are you doing” questions, she finally told her.

  “You did what?”

  “I hired the same mercenaries that rescued me to go back and get the others.”

  “Jesus, Barrett, I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me?” Debra’s voice had softened substantially.

  “Because I could barely stand it myself. I couldn’t deal with everyone asking me every day if I’d heard anything.” That was the God’s honest truth. Every time her phone would ring her heart had practically jumped out of her chest, and that was after she’d looked at it for hours begging it to ring.

  “So how are they doing?”

  Barrett filled her in on the four other hostages, saving Kelly for last. When she finished talking, she realized Debra was one of only a handful of people who knew what she’d done. But she wasn’t in it for the glory or the notoriety. She was in it to get Kelly out.

  So, now the mission was accomplished, what was next? She’d better figure that out pretty quickly because she was boring herself with the same question. Her life had always been about answering questions, solving difficult, complex problems, and turning chaos into order. Now Kelly was out and she could go back to her normal life. However, she was more unsettled than ever before.

  *

  It was late when Kelly walked up the sidewalk to her front door. Her panic attack had driven her out of the house, in an overwhelming need to run. She knew what was happening and why, but was powerless to stop it. By the time she was at the end of the next block, it had started to subside. She’d never experienced anything like it, and she never wanted to again. It was unsettling to feel so out of herself like that. After everything she’d gone through at the camp, she’d never felt like she did an hour ago. Her hands still trembled slightly as she slid her key into the lock.

  She hesitated before crossing the threshold, afraid if she went back in she’d have another attack. Panic attacks could be triggered by a situation, a thought, or for no reason at all. She couldn’t live like this, in fear that something would throw her into fight-or-flight mode again. Mind over matter, her mother would say. She believed that you could think yourself sick and pray yourself to good health. Squaring her shoulders, Kelly took a deep breath and stepped inside.

  As she turned off the light on the nightstand, Kelly remembered Barrett’s comment about sleeping with the lights on. She settled into her bed, pulling the covers up under her chin. The sheets were soft and smelled fresh. After several minutes Kelly found the phrase “the silence was deafening” to be true. She hadn’t tried to fall asleep in complete silence since before she left for Columbia. The jungle was always alive, even more so at night. During the day the monkeys’ screams and chatter were her constant companion. At night, however, other creatures prowled unseen in the dark. On more than one night, growling and rustling leaves had kept her awake.

  The numbers on the clock turned over to two thirty-three. What was Barrett doing? What a stupid question, she thought. Of course she’d be sleeping, just like she should be doing. She suspected Barrett slept naked, the image of Barrett’s bare chest under her head in the hotel in Panama coming to mind. She didn’t know how long she’d been in Barrett’s arms, but she hadn’t been in any hurry to move. Barrett was warm, the even rise and fall of her breasts drawing her attention. Kelly wondered if they were as soft as they looked. She remembered how Barrett’s nipple had hardened when her breath accidently blew over the peak. Was that all it took?

  Her nipples were sensitive too. At least they used to be. Hesitantly she cupped her breasts. Since she’d lost so much weight they were much smaller, easily filling her hands. Her thumbs grazed her nipples and nothing happened. She felt nothing. No familiar tingling between her legs, no tightening of her groin, no tension starting to build. “Fuck,” she said, dropping her hands onto the bed. What was she doing? Her first night home and she was…what? What was she doing? Seeing if she could still feel anything? If she could make herself…? Did Barrett…?

  Why was she thinking about Barrett this way? She wasn’t a lesbian. She’d never been attracted to women. She wasn’t afraid to shower in the gym and didn’t think every lesbian wanted to hit on her. Too bad she couldn’t say the same for the men she met.

  What was it like making love to a woman? It would have to be pretty awesome, if that’s what turned you on. Everyone was different, but a woman knew a woman’s body. What felt good, how much, how hard, and for how long. What was Barrett like as a lover? Was she a romantic? Did she get straight to the point or leisurely enjoy the experience? Was she one-and-done or a multiple girl? Did she go first? On top? She didn’t have any direct experience but could imagine what lesbians did under the sheets. The tools were different but the fundamentals were basically the same.

  A flush of warmth coursed through her body, settling in the pit of her stomach. She took a deep breath and fanned herself with her hands to cool off. When she did, her T-shirt moved over her nipples. They were hard
, the familiar feeling faint. It was too much. She couldn’t deal with this right now.

  She couldn’t even begin to think about sex. Why was she even wasting time on such thoughts? She’d been beaten, starved, isolated, and brutalized. She was overwhelmed with the events of the past two weeks. She was completely out of her life. She was here but felt like an observer in her own life. In Maslow’s hierarchy of needs she was definitely at the bottom. She needed food, water, safety, security, shelter, and freedom from fear. Was Barrett her safety, security and freedom from fear? Was she the chicken or the egg? Did Barrett give her what she needed? She was certainly responsible for putting her in the position to get it.

  “Ugh,” she said out loud. “I can’t deal with this.” God, that was a phrase she’d used dozens of times in the last few days. She knew she had to, but when would she be ready? Would she ever be ready to deal with anything?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kelly held true to her word the next day and negotiated her own deal for a car. Barrett tried on several occasions to help, but Kelly had insisted. She did, however, let her buy lunch.

  Kelly gave her directions, and in fifteen minutes they were looking for a parking space near a quaint little walking mall.

  “There’s this fabulous little sandwich shop that makes their own bread,” Kelly said, getting out of the car. She pointed to the sidewalk across the street. “They have this honey-grain bread that’s delicious. Ariel and I would come here on Saturday if I wasn’t working, have lunch and sit and watch people for hours. We’d drink coffee and find a solution for world peace or plot how to find a date for that night.”