by Bella Jewel
“You got a minute?” he asks gruffly.
“Look, Tyke,” I begin, but he shoves past me, stepping inside.
Oh boy, he’s angry.
I close the door and turn to him. He’s sitting on the couch, glaring at the television. I go over to him, stopping in front of his legs and staring down at him. “Why are you here?”
“Not goin’ on a trip until we talk,” he says, finally looking up at me.
“Talk about what, Tyke? You ignored me and now you want me to listen? That’s unfair.”
“Look, Pip—”
“No,” I say, so loudly not only am I shocked, but Tyke is too.
“Pippa,” he rasps.
“Don’t,” I whisper. “I don’t deserve this. You’re my friend, Tyke. I trust you. You’re one of the only people I have learned to care about since I’ve been home, but you don’t get to be hot and cold with me. We’ve been friends long enough now. You either want it, or you don’t.”
“Pippa,” he says, his voice thick and pained. “If it was that fuckin’ easy . . .”
“Please, leave,” I say turning away.
“Pip . . .”
“Leave!”
I shove his chest and his eyes flash with pain. I shove again and he takes hold of my hands. We get into another struggling match, and then suddenly, without warning, he tugs me forward. My hands land on his chest and my lips crash down on his. Then he kisses me.
This kiss is different—it’s deep, and it’s needy. I whimper against his mouth and my small, pathetic fight leaves my body as I sink into him. His arm goes around my waist and he hauls me closer, kissing me so deeply our tongues dance together. He tastes amazing—like beer and Tyke, and all the wonderful things a man should taste like. Something between my legs grows harder and harder, and a pleasure I’ve never experienced before bursts through my core.
A gasp leaves my throat, as the hardness beneath Tyke’s jeans presses into a soft, sensitive spot between my legs. Tyke’s arm tightens around me and I can feel his muscles flexing against my back as he strangely starts to rock me backwards and forward, rubbing my soft spot against his hard, scratchy jeans.
My eyes widen when a bolt of pleasure so intense my back bows, floods my body. “Tyke,” I gasp, unsure.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “So fuckin’ sweet. Go with it, baby. Ride with me.”
He keeps his hands on me, keeps rotating my body over his hard length, and a pleasure I could have never imagined swells deep below. It starts as little pulses of ecstasy, and eventually gets to the point where my body is tight, my mouth is open and my eyes roll back. Tyke is stiff beneath me, and his grunts are becoming more frequent.
Whatever is happening, it’s amazing. Better than anything I’ve ever felt in my life.
“Come, baby,” Tyke grunts. “Or I will.”
Come?
I gasp when he tips me backwards slightly and his hand goes between us. I feel his fingers gently glide up my nightie and he finds my panties. Heat flames my cheeks as he presses two of them against my core and begins rubbing hard. Pleasure unlike anything I could have dreamed shoots through my body, starting at my sex and riding deep, deep into my womb.
I cry out and clutch Tyke’s shoulders, as his fingers gently slow. His jaw is so tight he looks as if he’s in pain, and the thickness between us appears to be pulsing. Panting, I look down and see a thick, lengthy erection beneath his jeans. He presses his palm to it and groans, rubbing a few times.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growls. “Won’t fuckin’ come in my pants.”
He squeezes the thick length and closes his eyes, tipping his head back. It’s as if he’s trying to stop something from happening. He stays like that for so long I wonder if he’s in pain. My body has come down from the most amazing sensation, and I’m just sitting on his lap, confused. I have no idea what the hell just happened between us. I’m not stupid enough that I don’t know it was sexual, but what level of sexual I don’t know.
Tyke finally lifts his head and removes his hand, and I see the bulge is gone. So is the warmth in his face. He stares at me, jaw so tight the muscle jumps there. He’s going to do it again. He’s going to make me feel bad for something that clearly we both wanted. He’s making me feel . . . pathetic. He gently takes my hips and lifts me off him, putting me down on the couch beside him.
Then he stands, running a hand through his hair.
“I’ve got—” He stops and clears his throat. “I have to go on a ride tomorrow; not sure how long I’ll be gone. We probably . . . need the time.”
Tears burn under my eyelids and I stand.
“Are you going to do this again?” I whisper, my voice too shaky to use. “Make me feel bad for something I didn’t do?”
His fists are tight by his sides, but he says nothing.
“Is it Andi?”
He flinches.
“Tyke, just tell me. Tell me what the hell is happening because I don’t understand it.”
He turns and stares down at me, then he says in a scratchy tone, “Pippa, you and I . . . we can’t work. Not because I don’t want it to, because fuck me, I do. I’ve wanted you since the moment I met you. It’s because . . .”
He looks away.
“Because of what?” I yell, hating the anger in my chest rising once more. “Tell me.”
“Because you’re too fucking good for me.”
I scoff, and cry, “Are you serious? Have you missed how my life has gone?”
“That’s exactly why. You deserve better, Pippa. You don’t need to be someone’s old lady; you don’t need to be living this rough life. You need a man that is good, clean and who will marry you, give you babies and a good house in a good neighborhood. You need safe. I’m not safe.”
I blink.
I’m done. So done with people treating me like a fragile little doll. I’m quiet, I’m scared, but I am not pathetic.
“Just admit it,” I say, so low he narrows his eyes.
“Admit what?”
“That I’m just not good enough for you. I’m too broken. Too damaged. Too pathetic and weak. Go on, Tyke, admit it!”
He blinks at me. “What the fuck? That has nothing to do with it.”
“Doesn’t it?” I scream. My hands shake and I can’t control the rage. It’s bubbling up like an angry animal in my chest. It’s tired of being locked down, and nothing I can do will hold it back. “So you’re not ashamed of me? You’re not sick of that fact that I’m so shy, and frightened all the time? You don’t see me as pathetic? As weak? As the fragile little china doll you can’t touch?”
His eyes are narrowed with confusion and pain. “Pippa . . .”
“No,” I scream, reaching up and grabbing my hair. “This life you live, it’s nothing on the life I lived. I’ve seen more than you could possibly imagine. Do you have any idea? Any at all? I’ve picked up a woman’s brains with my own hands! My own fucking hands.”
My knees start trembling and heat floods my veins.
“Fuck, Pippa . . .”
“Don’t,” I screech, stepping backwards and tugging my own golden locks. “Don’t pity me. I’m so damned tired of pity. You know what? Your excuses are just that, Tyke. Excuses. It’s a cop-out. It’s a weak, pathetic way of saying you’re too scared to handle me. Well you know what? If that’s what you want, then so be it. I’ve held onto you, praying that you’ll see me for more than just a little broken angel, but you won’t. No one will. I’m always going to be the fragile piece of china you all tiptoe around.” I take a deep trembling breath and gather all my courage. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I met you, Tyke. Obviously you don’t feel the same; you’re using any excuse you can to make sure I know that. So go on your ride, and leave me the hell alone.”
I turn and walk off.
“Pippa!” he calls.
“Get out of my house,” I say in a voice so dark and so damaged even I flinch. “I don’t want to see you again.”
~*~*~*~
TH
EN - Pippa
I’m trying to breathe through my mouth as much as I can, trying not to smell the rotting corpses still hanging from the fence. I’m trying to ignore the birds and wildlife picking at their flesh, as if they’re no more than scrap meat. I’m trying not to look, because if I look it will destroy me. Something inside my body is shutting down. Day by day, I’m shrinking into myself.
Day after day, we work. Night after night, we fall into exhaustion. I’m skinny, so skinny the rags I’m wearing no longer stay up. I’ve had to find an old piece of rope to tie them together so I don’t have to walk around naked. My hair is ratty and tangled, and I know how awful I look. Rainer has lost a lot of weight—his muscle tone is deteriorating, just like mine.
When our workday is done and we’re able to be moved from the dead bodies, Rainer and I walk side by side as we’re led back to our rooms. This week, Artreau moved some of the slaves, and now there are only four of us in this room. It makes for more shower time and a little more rest. Some of the slaves have nightmares, screaming and thrashing through the night. It makes it hard to sleep.
Rainer and I take turns showering, and then silently eat the stale bread and water slid into our room. I crawl into bed after I’ve finished and face the wall. No words have been spoken between us today. We’re both in shock from the latest events, and the bodies still hanging lifelessly from the fence.
My bed dips about fifteen minutes into my resting, and I jerk, but relax when Rainer whispers into my ear, “Don’t close down on me, Pip. We’re all that’s left for each other in this place. If you shut down on me, I won’t survive.” He tucks his arm around my waist and pulls me back into his chest. “Hang in there with me, okay? One day, this will all be over.”
I snuggle back into him. “How did you get here, Rainer?” I ask in a croaky voice.
He sighs. “Drug deal gone wrong.”
“You do drugs?” I gasp.
“Nah, I was selling them. Call me a difficult man. I got involved with the wrong people when I was young, took drugs, sold drugs, got into debt. I turned to a bigger dealer and started selling overseas. I decided I wanted to stop, decided I was done, but I had a debt that was owed. The dealer wanted the money. So he sold me.”
“He didn’t just kill you?”
He chuckles softly. “No, he was smart. If he killed me, he wouldn’t get his money. So, he sold me to someone who would pay him for me. He got his money and I ended up here.”
“How did they manage to sell a big man like you?”
“They drugged me.” He shrugs, tucking me closer.
“Do you ever wonder about anyone else here?”
He nods behind me, and his chin hits the back of my head. “Yeah, especially the older guys. I wonder what they did to get themselves here. And the young ones—that’s interesting.”
“I wasn’t very old when I got here.”
“No, you weren’t. Why did you end up here?”
I swallow. “I’m not sure, to be honest. My sister and I, we lost our parents when we were young. We got sent to a foster family that wasn’t so good. Tana got me away from our foster father and we lived on the streets for a while, and then a man named Kennedy took us in. He wasn’t a bad man, but he wasn’t good either. My sister started acting weird, taking drugs with him. Then one night, she went somewhere and didn’t come back. Suddenly, I was being taken by Artreau and his men. And here I am.”
“That sucks, Pip,” he murmurs.
“Yeah. I was terrified.”
“I can imagine. It was hard enough for me, but you . . . so young . . .”
“Do you think we’ll ever get out of here, Rainer?”
He squeezes me again. “I swear to you, Pippa . . . one day, we’ll be free.”
I hope so.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
NOW - Pippa
I take another burning drink of the vodka I found in a wine cabinet. Santana put it here because she said it’s too tempting otherwise. I don’t know how old it is, and I don’t care. I’ve never had alcohol in my life—well, never more than a mere sip. Now, with my chest burning the way it is, I need more than just a good cry. Everyone else has alcohol when they’re down, so why shouldn’t I?
It’s working, but then it’s not.
My mind is fuzzy, but it’s making me cry harder.
I’m sitting against my front door, as if that will stop anyone coming back in. I don’t know if I regret yelling at Tyke, or if I’m feeling bad out of guilt. I didn’t want to hurt him, and I certainly don’t want to lose him. I love him; I’ve always loved him. But I won’t be a pity case any longer. I’m trying to be normal, to live a normal life, and to do that I have to stop letting people treat me like I’m about to break.
My phone, on the coffee table beside the door, buzzes. I turn and glance at it. Then, with a wobbly hand, I reach over and snatch it up. I have four text messages, two missed calls and one voicemail. It was on silent, and I obviously didn’t notice it ringing. I open the text messages first. One from Tyke, two from Rainer and one from Santana.
Santana: Tyke called me. Honey, we’re coming over.
No.
I don’t want them to come over.
Rainer: – Hey Pip. Just checking in, how are you?
Rainer: I’m free tonight, if you want to catch up?
Tyke: I fucked up. There are no words, Pip. I can’t talk to you, and I understand you want time. I won’t say what needs to be said over a phone, but I will ask one thing . . . wait for me, little one. Give me a chance to tell you what needs to be said. If you can give me one last thing, give me that.
I stare at Tyke’s message, and my heart aches. I want to reply, I want to scream that I’ll wait for him, but there’s a strange bitterness in my chest I can’t shake. I don’t like this person. The person clutching a bottle of vodka, slowly breaking to pieces. I don’t want to be the sweet, innocent Pippa anymore, but is this really who I want to be? No.
I don’t know who I want to be.
I don’t know who I am.
I delete Tyke’s message, because I don’t honestly know how to respond. I don’t want to reply with anger, nor do I want hope where hope just might not be. Instead I move to Rainer’s message. Of all the people who could help me right now, it’s him.
Pippa: I’m home tonight, if you want to come around. I could use a friend.
Rainer: Give me your address, and I’m there.
I text him my address and he tells me he has a few things to do but will be over in a few hours. Before I have the chance to respond to any more, a knock sounds at my door.
“Pippa!” Santana yells.
With a sigh, I force myself to my feet, knowing I can’t hold her back. I unlock and open the door, and not only is Santana standing at my door, but so are Jaylah and Ash. They take one look at me, and hustle inside. Ash takes the bottle of vodka, Jaylah rushes into the kitchen mumbling something about, “It’s girls night in” and Santana does what she knows I need.
She wraps me in her arms.
We stand like that until Ash comes back, placing her hand on my back. I pull back and force a wobbly smile. Jaylah comes rushing over with a red-looking drink in a fancy glass. I didn’t even know I had those. “You’re going to sit and tell us everything, Pippa,” she says, handing it to me. “No more holding back.”
We all sit on the couch and I stare at them all. My friends. My family. My sisters. I know, more than anything, I can trust these girls. So, deciding I’m done being broken, I start talking. I start with Tyke and what has been happening between us, then I tell them what happened tonight.
“Oh Pippa,” Santana says. “I can’t believe he just left.”
I nod, sipping the drink Jaylah handed me. It’s really yummy.
“He said he couldn’t give me the life I wanted, that I needed someone safe.”
“He’s being a jerk, but I do understand that in his mind he thinks he’s protecting you,” Ash says.
“Maybe,” I say. “But
he kisses me like he can’t breathe without me, then suddenly I need someone better. He’s not even giving me a chance.”
“Is Tyke really what you want?” Jaylah asks, tucking her legs beneath her. “Or is he just comfort?”
I flinch at her words.
“I’m not saying you don’t care about him,” she adds quickly. “But maybe he has a point—maybe he isn’t right for you. I’m not saying you can’t handle a man like him, but you’re softer, Pippa. You’re fragile, and he’s probably afraid he’ll destroy you. Tyke’s sweet, but he’s also hard.”
“I’m so tired of being seen like that,” I cry suddenly, and they all blink at me. “I don’t want to be that girl forever. It’s not who I am, it’s who I was molded to be. I’m strong, I’m stronger than any of you even begin to realize. I’m sensitive, yes, but that’s not because I’m weak.”
“Pippi . . .” Santana whispers.
“No, Tana,” I say, looking to her. “You’re strong, no one questions that, because you’ve had a fire that I don’t have, but I’m not weak. I was forced into myself because of the events that happened to me, but I can’t be like that forever. I don’t want to keep living like this.”
Obviously hearing the frustration in my voice, Santana says, “You never expressed that you were struggling.”
“Because I didn’t want to bother anyone. You’ve all done so much for me. I was afraid to even leave the house—I still am. I don’t know how to be normal, I don’t know how to control my emotions, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ash says, studying me.
“Because you have your own lives.”
“You know we would have helped you if you had asked,” Jaylah says.
“I know,” I sigh. “But I didn’t even know where to start.”
“You just needed to express that you wanted help changing and we would have helped,” Tana says. “I will always be here to help.”
“You’ve all tiptoed around me,” I say, meeting their eyes, “terrified you’ll say the wrong thing. I had it hard, yes, I saw things no one should ever see in their lives, but I’m here now, and I need to keep fighting for the life I want, not the life I had.”
