by Bella Jewel
The sound of the call coming back in jerks me from my thoughts. Artreau answers, nods, and then hangs up.
“It’s been delivered.”
He steps forward and I clench my eyes shut as he grabs my hip again. He squeezes painfully, and I know, I just know he isn’t going to take this easy. He pushes me towards the couch and my legs tremble with fear. Revulsion floods my body, and I want nothing more than to throw up all over him.
I block out as much as I can as he pushes me down, positioning his lanky, disgusting body over mine. I can feel his hardness against my thigh and I have to fight against myself, because all I want to do is take hold of it and twist it off. You’re not here, Pippa. Go somewhere else. This is for Rainer. This is for Rainer.
Artreau doesn’t waste time. His fingers go under my shirt and cup my breasts. “Pathetic. I thought you would at least have something to grab hold of. Let’s hope what’s between your legs is a little more impressive.”
Shame and horror wash through my body as he grabs my shorts, pulling them out, and shoving his hand down my panties. He cups my sex and I cry out, squirming. No, I don’t want this. I don’t want it. Oh God, help me. Please, someone help me. I gag as his finger enters a place that no man has ever been. I’m going to pass out.
Someone help me.
The phone rings.
Then a loud banging rings through the room.
Artreau curses and shoves off me, removing his hand from my panties. As soon as his weight is gone, I roll to my side and sob loudly, horrified. I feel so disgusting, so dirty, I want to be sick and die all at once. Voices fill the room and then Artreau is by my side, hauling me up.
“Get out. I have business to take care of.”
He’s distracted, not even here anymore. His eyes are distant. He shoves me into the arms of the guard and mutters, “I’ll deal with you later.”
He says it, but he doesn’t seem to be thinking about me at all. Whatever news was just shared with him has made him forget about me altogether.
Someone answered my prayers.
~*~*~*~
The guard shoves me into our room and slams the door behind me. I stumble forward and straight into Rainer’s chest. He’s been standing there, waiting for me. My face presses against the firm ridges beneath his shirt, and he holds me so tightly I can barely breathe, but I don’t care. I don’t care. I’d do it all over again for him.
“What did you do, Pippa?” he rasps, his voice broken. “What did you do?”
I let out a broken sob and he walks us backwards to his bed, which he has pushed right next to mine. He sits on it with a pained hiss, but refuses to let me go, holding me close. I cry so hard my body shakes. The memory of Artreau’s fingers touching my most sensitive flesh makes me want to scream. Internally, I am. I’m breaking to pieces.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”
I pull back and look up into his eyes, and he’s staring down at me, his face full of horror. I reach up and cup his jaw in my hand and whisper, “I’d do it again, for you.”
My eyes flicker to the pile of medical supplies on the bed. He really did have it delivered. Relief floods through me. Rainer takes my face in his hands and presses our foreheads together. “Please tell me that he didn’t . . . that you didn’t . . .”
It’s in that moment I realize Rainer will break if I tell him what I bargained with. So, I tell him, “He never got that far. An emergency call came in and he shoved me out.”
“But he’s going to want it,” he says, pained. “He’s going to want it. God, Pippa, you should have just let me be. You silly, stupid, beautiful girl.”
I sob again and whisper, “I’d do it again, Rainer. You would have died if I didn’t . . .”
“No,” he rasps. “No. You don’t save me, do you hear me? You never save me.”
“I’ll always save you.”
And I will.
Because it’s your job to always save the only person you have left in your world.
CHAPTER TEN
NOW - Pippa
Tyke’s warm hand is curled around mine as we walk slowly over the sand. Our lunch together was amazing—I don’t think I’ve smiled so much since I’ve been back. He made me laugh, he told jokes, and he smiled at me and made my insides turn to liquid. Spending the day with him is the best choice I’ve made this week.
“Mind if I ask you a question, little one?” Tyke says.
“Ah, sure.”
He squeezes my hand. “I know you haven’t spoken about it to anyone, because obviously you don’t want to, but . . . how’re you recovering from everything that went on?”
“You mean being a slave for over five years?”
His jaw tics and he nods sharply. I’ve never told Tyke much about my time away. I haven’t really told anyone. I guess a big part of me feels ashamed, even though I know I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m worried that if people know what I saw, they’ll feel guilt, or worse—they’ll look at me with even more pity than they already do.
“I’m fine,” I say. “I don’t really think much about it. I notice it more in my personality. I struggle with a lot of things, still.”
“Yeah, I bet you do. It wouldn’t be easy. You know you can always talk to me, don’t you?”
I squeeze his hand. “Of course I know that.”
“I’ve felt a connection with you since the first time I laid eyes on you, and I know you feel the same. I want you to know that you can trust me.”
“I do trust you,” I say softly. “I just don’t like talking about what happened there. It changed something inside me and when I think about it, I get distressed.”
He stops us and turns to me. “Then we’ll talk about something else. How’re you feeling after lunch?”
I beam. “So proud of myself. I’ve never done anything like that before. It felt amazing.”
“You did amazing, Pip,” he says, his eyes growing warm.
“Thank you,” I say, flushing. “For helping me like this. I know it’s a lot of time out of your day and . . .”
“Don’t,” he says, his voice gruff. “Wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to.”
No, I suppose he wouldn’t. I’m learning that.
“Now, it’s time for our next challenge.” He grins wolfishly and takes my hand, leading me into a quiet cove.
“What are we going to do?”
“Yell.”
“Yell?” I say, eyes wide.
“Yeah, Pip, yell. You’re soft-spoken, but it’s okay to have a say. It’s okay to stand up for what you believe in. It’s okay to be angry and vent. Those are all normal things that you shouldn’t be ashamed of. You’re not in that monster’s grips anymore—you’re allowed to feel.”
My heart starts pounding and I fumble my fingers together nervously. Tyke notices and takes my hand, pulling me closer. “No one is here to hear us. Don’t be afraid.”
“I don’t . . . I don’t know, Tyke,” I say hesitantly.
“It’s just me, little one. I’ll never judge you. Come on—we’ll do it together.”
He steps back and lifts his head in the air. “Woo hoo!”
He yells this loudly, and I can’t stop the giggle that escapes my lips. It does look like fun. He turns to me with a massive grin. “Come on, it’s two words. Give it a go.”
I swallow and tilt my head back. “Woo hoo.”
That was pathetic. It was weak and lame. I frown and shift nervously.
“Try again. Open your voice box and just scream, Pip.”
I take a deep breath, close my eyes and bellow, “Woo hoo!”
“Yeah.” Tyke laughs, clapping his hands. “Atta girl. Now do it again.”
Both of us tip our heads back and scream the two words over and over, until we fall back laughing. Tyke, wearing a big smile, turns to me and suggests, “Now let’s get angry.”
I shrink instantly. Laughing is one thing, but anger . . . no.
“I can’t do anger, Tyke,” I say.
“You can; it’s easy and it’s natural. You don’t have to let people push you around forever, little one. You’re the master of your own destiny.”
I snort, and say, “That’s lame.”
He winks at me. “Lame, but true. Come on, pretend . . .” He looks around and notices a rock. “Pretend that rock is someone you’re really angry at. Tell them what you think of them.”
“I can’t do that.”
He stops smiling and steps closer to me, leaning down. “Why not?”
“I don’t . . .”
“No,” he says firmly. “No excuses. Tell me why you’re afraid to say it how it is.”
I swallow. “Anger only gets you into trouble. You say something you shouldn’t, and it hurts people.”
“Yes, that can be true, but not if you control it. Not if you think about what you’re saying before you say it.”
“People get mad at you if you speak the truth,” I go on. “I don’t like it when people are angry at me.”
“Jesus, Pip, that might be the case, but you can’t spend the rest of your life worrying that someone is going to get mad if you express yourself. If they love you, they’ll understand that you have emotion, same as the rest of the world.”
My bottom lip shakes. “I’m afraid, Tyke.”
He takes my face in his hands. “That’s what we’re here to change. You’re allowed to be yourself, Pippa. Think back, before you were taken. What were you like?”
I close my eyes and think back to a time before Santana and I lost our parents and our worlds crumbled. I was never an outgoing girl, like my sister, but I was bubbly and loved to laugh.
“I was bubbly,” I say with a sad smile. “Dad used to tell me I could brighten his day, because when I greeted him each night it was with so much enthusiasm and laughter that he couldn’t help but be happy.”
“That’s good, honey,” Tyke says softly. “That’s a good thing to hang on to. Now think, really think—would that Pippa just let people walk all over her?”
I smile at a memory that flashes into my mind. It’s one I had forgotten about until just now. We were playing in my new playhouse, and the boy next door came over. We played with him often, but this particular day, he decided to tease Santana. He made her cry and when she went into the house, I gave him a Pippa mouthful that made him cry, too.
“No,” I say softly. “I might have been shy, but I knew what I wanted.”
“That girl is in there. She isn’t gone; she might have changed, but she hasn’t gone anywhere. Find her—bring her out and get her back.”
I open my eyes and stare into his. We stand like that for a long time.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” He smiles.
“Okay.”
He takes my shoulders and turns me towards the large rock. “Pretend I’m not here. Talk to that rock, tell it what you have wanted to tell someone. It doesn’t have to be someone from your past; it can be from someone you have only met recently. Anyone. You decide.”
I take a deep breath.
“I’m not stupid,” I say softly.
“Louder baby,” Tyke encourages. “Get mad.”
“I’m not stupid,” I say again, a little harsher. “I’m not daft. I’m good at my job, and you have no right to speak to me like that.”
“More, louder, harder,” Tyke whispers into my ear and I shiver.
“I might work for you,” I say, feeling a strange emotion clamp down firmly in my chest, “but that doesn’t mean you can treat me like, like . . .” I stammer and close my eyes, taking a shaky breath, “. . . like a dog.”
“That’s a girl, get it out.”
“And I will clean the toilets,” I yell, shocking myself. “When I’m good and damned ready!”
“Yes!” Tyke says, squeezing my waist. “Keep going.”
“You think I can just do a million jobs at once?” I bark, feeling my hands shake with suppressed anger and shame. “I’d like to see you do it all, you angry, horrible man.”
“You’re doing really good, baby. Scream at him, louder.”
“You’ve probably never worked a day in your life,” I scream so hard my voice shakes. “You probably don’t know how it feels to live a difficult life. How does that prime-cut roast beef taste, you . . . you . . . jerk!”
“Yeah darlin’.” Tyke laughs. “Tell him.”
“And . . .” I screech. “And as for you, you . . . nasty woman. You don’t deserve him. You’ll never deserve him. He’s so much better than you, and you’ll never see it because you can’t look past your fake nails and plastic breasts. You should be on your knees thanking God every damned day for giving him to you!”
I never meant to say that—it just came pouring out. My mouth clamps shut and my eyes widen. Tyke has gone still and quiet behind me, and suddenly I wonder if I’ve just made the biggest mistake I could have possibly made. I turn slowly, rasping, “Tyke, I’m sorry, I—”
I don’t get a word in, because his lips crash down over mine. My knees wobble and his hand snakes out and goes around my waist, pressing my body to his. I crumble against him with a whimper, opening my mouth and letting him in. I’ve been kissed once in my life before, and that was by Rainer. It was a long time ago, and it was amazing. This, though? This is fireworks.
Tyke’s hands pull me closer, crushing my body against his. His tongue tangles with mine, and it’s so soft. His cheek is rough against mine, and my lips feel swollen and alert with every graze of his. He makes a throaty, rumbling sound and then suddenly he steps back, running his hands through his hair, looking frantic.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
I say nothing.
“Fuck!” he bellows.
He regrets it. I can see it in his face. My heart cracks open. Of course he regrets it. He has a girlfriend. He just cheated on her, because of me. Tears burn under my eyelids and I stammer out, “I . . . I . . . I’m sorry, Tyke.”
“Should never have done that,” he mumbles to himself. “Fuck.”
God. Nothing could hurt more than those words.
I hang my head.
Never enough. Never, ever enough.
~*~*~*~
Tyke doesn’t say a word to me as I turn and walk away. He follows me, but silence is heavy between us. I shouldn’t have said those things, and I shouldn’t have kissed him back. It was a moment of weakness on both our parts, but it was enough to cause tension like no other. He probably never wants to speak to me again, now. I’ve made a mistake.
I climb into his truck and he gets in the other side. I tuck my knees up to my chest and stare out the window as he climbs in. He turns to me, and whispers, “Pip?”
I can’t answer. I don’t know how to. What am I supposed to say? I’m sorry? I’m not sorry? Am I to be angry with him for kissing me and then making me feel bad about it? I honestly don’t know.
He sighs, and starts the car. We sit in silence all the way home, and when he pulls up at my house, I climb out wordlessly. He gets out behind me, and when I reach the door, he takes my arm in his hand and turns me around. His eyes are pained as he stares into me. “I’m sorry, little one. I didn’t mean to do that.”
He didn’t mean to do that.
Slapping me would hurt less.
I nod stiffly, and then pull my arm from his and step into the house, slamming the door before he can get to it. I lock it and then slide down, dropping my head in my hands. A choking sob rips from my throat and my body shakes with hurt and shame. Mostly shame. I’ve never been so horrified in all my life.
I don’t know how long I sit like that, sobbing against the door, but I’m disturbed when a knock sounds out. My head jerks up and I wonder if Tyke has come back, but when I hear Maddox call out I quickly stand. I open the door without hesitation, and his eyes widen the moment he sees me. “Shit, Pippa, what the hell?”
“It’s nothing,” I say croakily, waving a hand. “Just a crappy work day.”
I hope Maddox knows I didn’t work today,
or I’m in trouble. He narrows his eyes and says carefully, “Anything I can help with?”
“No. Why are you here? Is Santana okay? Molly?”
He smiles. “They’re fine, honey. I came to talk to you about your friend, Rainer.”
My heart stops beating. Oh God, if this is bad news I honestly don’t know if I can handle it. I swallow and nod, stepping back and waving my arm for him to come in. He does, kicking his boots off at the door. He walks to my couch and flops down, his big body taking up most of it. I sit over from him, staring with wide eyes.
“So, I looked into him, and turns out with a name like that he wasn’t hard to find.”
My heart is pounding so hard, I feel ill.
“Maddox, please,” I whisper.
He narrows his eyes. “What does this guy mean to you?”
I blink. “He was a friend of mine—the only one I had. Please . . . tell me he’s . . . he’s . . .”
“He’s alive, Pip.”
My body jerks, and a silent tear slips from my eye and trickles down my cheek. He’s alive. Oh God, he’s alive. All this time I’ve wondered what happened to him, and knowing he’s alive takes away so much of my pain.
“Where is he?” I whisper.
Maddox smiles. “That’s the good part. He lives here, Pippa.”
I blink. “Pardon?”
“He lives here; he has for the last two years. I don’t know his story, but I know he was in New York for a few years before packing up and moving out here. He owns a bar downtown. I went by, checked him out. He seems like a decent dude.”
“You . . . checked him out?” I squeak.
“Course I did,” he grunts. “Wasn’t giving you information on a dude that might be . . . dangerous.”
“Rainer would never hurt me, Maddox.”
He narrows his eyes. “Don’t wanna know how you’re so sure of that. Anyway, I spoke to him but didn’t tell him about you. Figured that was up to you. I got his address here. If you wanna go down, you can. If not, that’s up to you as well.”
He reaches into his jeans and pulls out a slip of paper. I take it with trembling fingers. Rainer lives here. Here. All this time, he’s been that close. Will he even remember me? God, what if I’m a bad memory from his past he doesn’t want to see again? My palms grow clammy and I fidget.
