Time to go.
Those were Daphne’s first thoughts when she woke up for the last time in John’s bed. The clock on the bedside table read 5:17 a.m. She dressed in the darkness as the sun wasn’t up yet and if it had been, the curtains were closed tight to whatever light was out there. She’d been living behind closed curtains since her first night with John. She went to his house at night in the dark and left before sunrise. In a book or a movie maybe she would have been a vampire who woke at sunset to her life and fell into a sleep like death at dawn. That had been her life, such as it was, for the past six months. From dawn to dusk, she lived in a daze, the hours empty of purpose and meaning. At sunset she came to life the moment she crossed his threshold.
This morning she would cross it again for the last time.
She pulled on yesterday’s clothes that had ended up here and there on the floor. John had been playful last night and tossed her panties in one direction, her socks in another. Did he have an inkling of what she’d planned? Had it been a delaying tactic? No, of course not. She knew John. If he had any idea at all she was leaving him today, she would have woken up tied to the bed by her wrists and ankles, her car keys hidden and her money gone. And she’d been disappointed when she woke up and found her hands and her ankles free, her keys where she’d left them, her money all in her purse.
Once dressed, she stood by the bed and looked down at John asleep on his stomach, his hands to either side of his head. He had a beautiful body and she’d spent every night of the past six months underneath it. She ached to touch him but he always slept lightly, something he blamed on his military training. She couldn’t speak either lest she wake him. So in the temple of her mind, she spoke one silent prayer to him.
“I can’t do this anymore, John. I’m sorry. I got a letter that I’ve been accepted to UC. So I’m going there today. You don’t know that. No one knows that. I wanted to tell you but I know you and you’d find a way to talk me into staying. You’d find a way to keep me here. It wouldn’t be hard. You’d only have to say ‘Stay’ and I would stay. That’s why I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t give you the chance to talk me out of this, because you would. I don’t know if this helps or makes it worse but you’re the only man who’s ever protected me. You need to stay a cop so you can protect other people. And someone would have found out about us eventually and you’d never be a cop again. I couldn’t live with that, knowing I’d taken you from the life you love. So this is the only way. I promised you once I’d never run away from you again. There’s two things you should know. I love you. But I lied.”
Daphne turned around, picked up her car keys, walked out the back door and got into her car.
She started it, she backed out of the driveway and she drove.
She drove to the end of the street and stopped at the stoplight.
There was no one else on the road. She was alone, all alone.
The light turned green.
But Daphne didn’t go.
She had to go.
The light turned red again.
Daphne waited. If she went back, she could slip into his bed and he’d never know she’d gone.
Or she could drive away and start a new life without him.
Stay? Go? Stay? Go?
The light turned green.
* * *
“So what happened?” Kyrie asked, flipping over onto her side to face Elle. “Does Daphne go back to him right then? Or does she drive away?”
“That’s for you to decide,” Elle said. “I left it open-ended. What do you think she did when the light turned green again?”
“I don’t know,” Kyrie said, smiling. “I kind of want her to go back to him. But then again, she’s only seventeen. Can you really find your true love in high school?”
“I thought I did.”
Kyrie met Elle’s eyes and she braced herself for a question. But Kyrie didn’t ask it and Elle thanked God she didn’t have to answer it.
“What would you have done in her shoes?” Elle asked. “When the light turned green, would you go back or go forward?”
“I think...” Kyrie paused. “I don’t know. Let me think about it.”
“You think about it and get back to me.” She loved that Kyrie wanted to think about it, wanted to mull it over. That’s what Elle intended with the ending. It would be something different for every reader. The romantics at heart would say Daphne went back to him. The realists would say she left him.
“So it’s done?” Kyrie asked, putting the pages of the book in order. “The whole thing is done? Beginning, middle and end?”
Elle nodded. “The end,” she said. “Now I just have to find a computer, type it up, clean it up and email it to your sister’s agent.”
“So it’s time?” Kyrie asked. Elle saw a flash of fear in her eyes. Elle didn’t blame her.
“Yeah, time to go. Are you ready?”
“I’m...” It was as far as Kyrie got with her answer. A sob escaped her throat. Elle held her close and tight, rocking her as if Kyrie was a child in her arms.
“I know,” Elle said. “I’m scared, too. But the longer we stay the harder it will be to leave. You do want to leave, don’t you?”
“I want...” Kyrie began and stopped. She seemed to be debating her answer, weighing her words, searching for something to say, the right thing to say. Then she nodded and when she spoke again her voice was clear and steady. “Yes, I want to go.”
Elle pulled her close and Kyrie cried quietly in her arms. They did everything quietly—laughed, talked, fucked. They hadn’t been caught yet, but it was only a matter of time. And Elle was tired of being quiet all the time. She needed to raise her voice; she needed to laugh as loudly as she could. She needed to tie Kyrie to a real bed and make her come until she screamed.
“When are we going?” Kyrie asked, looking up at Elle.
“Tomorrow night,” she said. “We’ll wait for tomorrow night when everyone is asleep and just go. We can go out the back door of the oratory and walk to the road. We’ll have to walk all the way to Guilford but when we’re there, we can get a hotel room for the night and figure out where to go from there.”
“I know it’s really far away, but we could go to California,” Kyrie said. “My brother would let us stay with him.”
“Are you sure?” Elle asked.
“He left the Church after Bethany died. He didn’t want me to be a nun.”
“Does he know—”
Kyrie shook her head.
“Nobody does. You’ll have to say you’re my friend. Sorry.”
Elle shrugged. “Being lying about my love life ever since I had one. I guess I can keep doing it.”
“You can tell my brother and his wife you’re leaving your boyfriend. They can guess why.”
Elle laughed mirthlessly. She was getting tired of lying about herself.
“Leaving my boyfriend. Sounds so vanilla,” Elle said. “I was the sexual property of a sadistic Dominant Catholic priest and now I’m ‘leaving my boyfriend.’”
“You can’t tell people the truth,” Kyrie said. “They’ll freak out, and they won’t help us.”
“You’re sure your brother will?”
“Yeah,” Kyrie said. “He’s a good guy. Conservative. But he loves me. He and his wife have a pretty big house. I know we can stay there for a while, at least while we figure things out.”
“Okay. We’ll go to California. I’ve always wanted to swim in the Pacific Ocean.”
Kyrie laughed. “You’ll need a wetsuit. The water is freezing.”
Elle sighed. “There goes that dream.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault the ocean’s cold out there.” She held Kyrie’s face in her hands and kissed her. “I have other dreams. Better dreams.”
“Am I in them?”
“You’re in all of them. We’ll go to your brother’s house, and I’ll get a job. We’ll make it work. Maybe your sister’s agent can sell the book.”
“I’ll write another one. And another one.”
“Good. I want to read them all.”
“Maybe I’ll write one with two girls next time. Athena and Aphrodite fall in love.”
“Weren’t they sisters?”
“They can’t breed. Who cares?”
Kyrie laughed, and Elle kissed her again, happy to see a smile.
“That’s better,” Elle said. “We’ve got a long journey ahead of us. I need you to be strong for me, okay? Once I leave, they won’t let me back in here. When we go, we have to go, and there’s no coming back.”
“I understand.”
“I can’t leave here without you.”
“Yes, you could. You just don’t want to.” Kyrie smiled.
“Of course I don’t want to leave without you. Not now or ever. But I have a reason to leave now, and it has nothing to do with him.”
Kyrie held up the handwritten pages of Elle’s book. “We’ll do it for this.”
“I didn’t believe you when you said you’d figure out what I was supposed to do with my life.”
“I told you I would.”
“Now I believe you. You were right.”
“Good. That’s all I needed to hear.” Kyrie reached for Elle again and they kissed. Elle pushed Kyrie onto her back and caressed her face, her hair, her neck and arms.
Elle took the lit candle off the bedside table. Kyrie raised her hand.
“Can we just sleep tonight?” Kyrie asked. “For a while, you and me. We’ve never slept together.”
“Will you wake up in time?”
“Does it matter if I don’t?” Kyrie looked up at Elle and smiled nervously. “We’re leaving.”
“Good point. I guess if we get caught now...what’s the worst they can do? Kick us out?”
“Exactly.”
“Okay. We can sleep.” Elle blew the candle out and slid under the covers. She was small herself, but Kyrie was smaller. She pulled Kyrie against her, her back to Elle’s chest. They lay together spooned tight until they fell asleep. When Elle woke up at dawn, Kyrie had already returned to her cell.
Elle took deep breaths to calm herself. They had a plan. Meet at night, leave through the oratory. Walk to the city. Buy bus tickets.
And then...who knew? And who cared? She’d have Kyrie with her, someone to take care of, someone to be with so she wouldn’t have to do it all alone.
Nothing left to do now but pack.
The day had come.
Time to go.
33
New York City
TWO MONTHS SINCE leaving Haiti and Kingsley was still alive, still functioning. He wasn’t sure how he did it, but he did it. He survived losing Juliette. He didn’t drink—not much. No more than usual. He didn’t slip back into his old drug habits. He didn’t engage in any wildly self-destructive behaviors. Of course, he did fuck as often as possible. When in doubt, Kingsley fucked. That had been his coping mechanism all his life, and it had always served him well.
Kingsley played smart and fucked only people he trusted. Women he’d known for years, who’d known him for years and had no interest in pursuing a relationship. He fucked Simone, one of the better pro-submissives of his acquaintance and Søren’s go-to masochist when his Little One was unavailable. He wondered how much time Simone had spent on Søren’s Saint Andrew’s Cross lately. He didn’t ask. Kingsley was certain he didn’t want to know. There was also Tessa, who’d worked for him on and off for years. He went out a few nights with Griffin and seduced a beautiful twenty-seven-year-old gold-medal-winning diver named Hunter, whom Griffin trained with at his gym. Kingsley had hunted Hunter, and now Hunt, as he preferred to be called, had been Kingsley’s most constant bedtime distraction for the past month.
For all his coping, he did have a weak moment and considered, for almost an entire minute, taking Calliope to bed. He discarded the idea quickly. She was eighteen and her adoration and affection for him made it easier to get through the day, to get back to work. He adored her and wanted only the best for her. And sleeping with her might compromise the high esteem she held him in, and he needed someone’s love right now, even if it was from the eighteen-year-old girl who picked up his dry-cleaning.
It was for the best, really, that Juliette had made him go. Monogamy simply wasn’t in Kingsley’s blood. He loved fucking men too much. And other women. And pain, he loved that too, and Juliette only wanted to receive it, not give it. Cold comfort, but it was comfort. He needed all the comfort he could get.
“Mr. King?”
Calliope’s soft voice interrupted his solitary reverie. Good. He needed to stay out of his mind as much as possible. He looked up from the book he hadn’t been reading and smiled at her.
“Yes?”
“Are you done with me for the day?” she asked, standing in the doorway to his sitting room.
Kingsley checked his watch. It was a little after seven in the evening.
“I suppose. You have somewhere to go?”
She grinned. “I have a date.”
Kingsley slammed his book shut and set it on the table next to him.
“A date? With whom?”
“No one you know.”
“Why don’t I know him?” Kingsley took his glasses off and tossed them on top of the book.
“Because I barely know him. It’s a first date.”
“You can’t go on a date with someone you barely know. What if he’s a criminal?”
Calliope pointed at him. “You’re a criminal.” She pointed at herself. “I am a criminal. We—” she pointed back and forth at both of them vigorously “—are criminals. Half of what I do for you is illegal. You caught me using a fake ID I made to get into your clubs and you hired me because it was such a good fake.”
“We’re not talking about me or you. We’re talking about him.”
“He seems nice. He’s friends with Tessa.”
“Nice? He’s not vanilla, is he?”
Calliope screwed her face up in disgust. “Ugh. Don’t even joke about that.”
“What’s his name? And birth date? And place of birth?”
“You are not allowed to make a file on him,” she said, pointing her finger at him. “You are not allowed to do a background check.”
“I’m your boss. I can do anything I want.”
“No,” she said again firmly.
“Does he know about me?” Kingsley asked. “Did you tell him I used to kill people for a living?”
“I hope you never have a daughter if this is how you act when your assistant has a date.”
“Don’t get pregnant.”
“I don’t believe in getting pregnant on a first date.”
“Good. Do you need condoms?”
“I’m not having this conversation with you. I’m leaving. Right now. This instant.”
“You come to my room when the date is over so I know you’re safe. That’s an order.”
“Anything else, sire?”
“Take a gun.”
“Oh my God.” Calliope shook her head and sighed. Kingsley
The Virgin Page 38
