by L. B. Dunbar
She rocked against me, and I groaned as I returned the pressure. Our tongues still tangled and my hands were in her dark hair, wrapping long locks around my fist. I tugged gently and she broke out of the kiss as her head arched back.
“Perkins,” she said my name like praise to the heavens. When I ground against her, her voice went up an octave as she spoke my name again.
“Perkins, you’re going to undo me,” she moaned. I liked the sound of that. I wanted to be the one to make her feel what I couldn’t describe myself, as I pressed into her core with my own. She slipped the length of me then returned to the top and opened wider, allowing my head to hitch against her. If we didn’t have thin layers separating us, I would have slid into her. That thought alone unhinged me and I stilled as I felt my release warm my pants.
“Perkins?” she questioned, as my hands squeezed her waist and I lay rigid.
“Perk, what’s wrong?” I felt her hand smooth over my head in a way that comforted me. I blinked back a tear of relief, satisfaction, and embarrassment.
“I…” I began to pull away, as her hold on me had completely relaxed into our sensual embrace.
“I…I need to…”
“Don’t,” she almost yelled. “Don’t you dare leave this bed,” her voice was desperate, and she had her hand on my back, holding me to her.
“I’ve…I’ve made a mess,” I said, burying my head into her neck, mumbling the words to hide my shame.
“It’s fine. Do you need to change? Just…don’t…don’t leave me. I’m afraid of the dark,” she said. Her honesty surprised me.
The night continued…
[Hollister]
It’s heady power to think I brought someone the size of Perkins to do what he had just done. Not to mention that he’d probably been with tons of women before me. It was a power I relished after I admitted my fear. I was deathly afraid of the dark. It was in the dark that Jordan took me without me being able to see him coming. I had no means to escape without any light. I fell, both literally and figuratively, into darkness with Jordan. I learned it was better to give in than to struggle. It would be over faster if I just lay still, but with Perkins I wanted it to last. With him, I could tell that he wasn’t using me for some greater good. As a matter of fact, he seemed rather surprised himself when it happened, but I’ll be damned if he was leaving me again.
So honesty it was, as I told him I was afraid of the dark.
“Why?” he asked.
I didn’t want to tell him. I couldn’t let him know my story. Yet, somehow, I felt he might already know some of it. There was a long pause before he spoke again.
“I knew you from the woods.”
My eyes couldn’t search his face, but I sensed his stare at me. He couldn’t have known me then. I hadn’t encountered anyone when I lived in that tent, except…Perkins would not have known about the boy. That boy was a big kid, kind, and innocent looking. He had a baby face, but he promised the sweetest of words. Words that were drown out by the same words from another voice. Words I tried to hold onto for years, until I knew it was hopeless. I was hopeless.
When I didn’t respond, I felt Perk shift next to me. His breath warmed my neck again and he spoke softly.
“I read about you in the papers and heard about you on the news. That’s how I finally knew your name.”
I didn’t know where this was coming from, but I had a feeling Perk was testing me. He wanted me to open up to him, but he was also willing to give me what he knew.
“The kidnapping.” I flinched and I felt his hand skate over my stomach. “It must have been horrible.”
“You have no idea.”
“Did he…did he…hurt you…more than I saw?”
I paused a beat.
“What did you see?”
“I saw a frightened girl in a tent. With bruises on her wrist and neck.”
I shifted and his legs covered my ankles to hold me still.
“I saw a bruise the size of a fist.”
I turned my head away, and he tugged my hips to force me to face him.
“I saw beautiful, sad gray eyes.”
I closed my eyes, knowing he couldn’t see them anyway in the dark.
“I saw the woman I’d been searching for, but I couldn’t help you.” His voice faltered and the weight of his guilt filled the bed around us.
I remained quiet; not wanting to admit any of that story was true. Not wanting to accept that Perkins Vale had been that boy who promised to come back for me. I told him what I thought he would know from the papers.
I left out of my tale how Jordan looked at me and smiled through the back window.
I’ll be back for you.
It had been easy to succumb to his words, after the constant beatings and sexual takeovers. It was just as easy to believe his final words were true. He’d be back for me. I never believed those words to be truer than the night of Arturo King’s accident.
Over the years, I had rolled the sweet words of the one person who stumbled upon me in the woods with the one who frightened my dreams nightly. I was convinced that the promise made by a young, barely-scruff faced boy was fulfilled the next day when I was discovered at the market. It was a sign, yet I had secretly hoped that it would be him; that the boy would rescue me. Foolish teenage dreams, I scoffed at myself, and again omitted this from my story. I didn’t believe Perkins Vale. There was only one form of proof.
“You do remember, don’t you? You don’t remember me exactly, but you remember someone, right?”
“I…”
“Stop lying. Stop holding out,” he demanded, pulling me closer to him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“In that tent, a boy found you and he promised he’d come back for you. And he did. He was there the next day, knowing he was a fool to leave you behind for one minute. But you were gone. You had disappeared again,” his voice rose with his hysteria.
“I…” It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t have been him. I stared at him, searching for recognition in a room that was too dark. The boy was fuller. His face babyish but marked by being a teenager. I searched Perk’s eyes, but I just couldn’t remember. It didn’t seem possible that the hulking man before me, who was scruff jawed with shorn hair, cut like a gladiator, could have been that boy. The whole situation I tried to forget, and yet I had constant reminders of it in the smallest of details. There was only one way to prove it was him.
“If it’s true, what did you give me?”
“My father’s ring. It was a garnet on a gold band.”
I sucked in a breath. I had no idea it was valuable: Alan Vale’s ring. It would have been worth a fortune. Somehow, I now sensed it was worth a fortune in a nonmonetary way. He was correct, but I wasn’t ready to admit it. Something caught in my memory.
“You said you didn’t know your father,” I breathed.
“I didn’t. I wore the ring when my mother gave it to me when I started high school. It was another reason for me to be picked on. I wore a ring around my neck, but it was all I had of him. I wanted it close to my heart, hoping the music would rub off. And then I gave it to you. I gave my heart to you,” he whispered the final words. We were silent for several minutes.
“Then why won’t you give yourself to me now? Why do you keep running off to the shower?” my voice was rising as well. I sensed I might embarrass him.
He fell back on his bed, making the mattress jolt with the weight of him. He was positioned to look up at the ceiling again.
“I can’t have you after you’ve told me the story of your kidnapping and sexual assault. It just doesn’t seem right,” he said softly. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Opening them again, he turned toward me and I saw a pain so deep it cut me.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you. I’m so sorry, I didn’t rescue you the minute I saw you. I’m sorry, I couldn’t find you sooner.” He was pleading for my forgiveness, but there was nothing to forgive.
>
The car ride with Lansing Lotte…
[Hollister]
He tried to convince me to stay with him the following morning.
“I don’t want you going back to the shelter,” he said, slightly demanding.
“You what?” I almost choked on the coffee before me.
“I don’t think it’s safe. I want you to stay with me. I can help you. I can…I can find you a job. A real job. A different home…a...”
“A job? You think my work isn’t real.”
“I don’t think it’s honorable.”
“You don’t think it’s honorable? What do you think I do?”
“Aren’t you a…” His voice faltered, as he stared at me and something in my gaze must have told him to choose his words carefully.
“Do you think I’m a prostitute?”
“I didn’t say that,” he defended.
“If you thought I was a hooker, how could you kiss me last night? Wouldn’t you be worried hundreds of other mouths were on mine? That my mouth had been hundreds of other places?”
The shock on his face was so apparent; he looked as if he was frozen in time. He swallowed hard after several seconds and turned away from me, bracing the edge of the sink. My chest was rising and falling as I took deep breaths in my anger. How dare he think I was a lady of the night? How dare he think I’d been with hundreds of men in such a way? What a hypocrite considering he’d been with hundreds of women. He’d probably touched each one of them, despite the repetitive nickname.
“You…you hypocrite,” I barked, still fuming from his thoughts.
He turned to me, shock on his face again. His eyes opening wider, his mouth hanging open.
“You’re a rock star for heaven sakes. You’ve probably been with hundreds of women. Because you get it for free, does that make you any less reputable? It’s the same as whoring yourself out, isn’t it?
His face fell and his anger became clear, as well. He was a man who wore expression in his face, and it showed his rising temper and something else. He was hurt. He’d insulted me and he was hurt!
“While I happen to know who you are, I don’t care what you do,” he bit. “While you, on the other hand, don’t know a single thing about me.” He stalked toward me. Suddenly, I was caged in by his large arms around me, pinning my back into the kitchen island.
“You don’t remember me? Fine. You don’t remember the ring? Fine. But don’t lie to me about what you are? Or what you do? I’m trying to help you.”
“Well, I don’t need your help.”
I’d have to punch him unaware to cause the pain that crossed his face. He pushed off the island as he muttered to me.
“Yes, I remember those words, as well.”
I, however, had no idea what he meant.
When we entered his truck, he received a call.
“Where are you?”
Silence.
“I’ll come get you.”
About ten minutes later, we pulled up to a street corner and immediately saw Lansing Lotte outside the large SUV. I climbed into the back while Lansing crossed the street to the truck. Lansing Lotte was a pretty boy. His features included dimples, that parenthesis his mouth, which was a lush pink and plump. His eyes were bright blue and when he smiled, they sparkled, or so I’d been told. He didn’t have any effect on me, as I wasn’t into pop culture. I did know, though, he had a reputation as well. Lady Killer. He was accused of melting hearts of women, leaving them hopeless in his wake.
“Hey,” he said sheepishly to Perk. Perk met my eyes in the rearview mirror and Lansing did a double take before he made a smart comment to Perk.
“Whatcha doing? Taking a side job as a chauffeur?” he snorted.
Perk turned his dark eyes on Lansing, in a scary manner similar to his angry glare at me this morning.
“This is Hollister SanGrael,” he barked, as way of introduction, and quickly glanced into the rearview mirror again. Lansing turned in his seat to get a better glance at me. He sized me up looking at my dark hair, gray eyes, and the expression on my face. Immediately, he spoke.
“You’re Holli?” He blinked twice and narrowed his eyes at me.
My mouth fell open then I quickly closed it shut. I was hoping he wouldn’t remember me.
“I know you,” Lansing said.
“What?” Perk said, glancing sideways at him and swerving the large SUV to miss another car.
“I know her,” Lansing turned to Perk, referring to me in the third person as if I wasn’t in the backseat. I turned to look out the window, but I felt his gaze on me.
“Aren’t you related to Elaine Corbin?” he asked over the seat.
My eyes pierced his bright blue ones, for a moment, as I scanned his face. I didn’t respond to him, and I returned to stare out the side window.
Elaine Corbin was my cousin. Her father was my uncle Roy, Roy Fisher, nicknamed Pellinore. Dark fish. He held the secrets to our family history. He also had a debilitating injury that had been the cause of his great ruin. I always believed it had been his infidelity, but he blamed it on a war wound. It was a wound that conveniently took his manhood and ended his family line at Elaine and Elliott, his son. Elliott was not the promising one in the Corbin lineage, Elaine was. She encompassed a grace and presence that could lead men and guide women through social situations of pop culture, governmental influence, and religious circumstances. The last was the one that most concerned me, as I was kidnapped from the room we shared for supposed religious purposes. I was taken by someone who believed he was the Chosen One, and I was his Promised One.
Elaine had her own spiritual fulfillment. She was destined to carry on the family. I never understood why it wasn’t to be from the male line, Elliott, until I learned that he was infertile. He’d contracted something similar to his father by means of spilling his seed into too many others. It finally proved him infertile after an infection occurred.
The wealth of the family was through their mother’s line. When she left her cheating husband behind, his estate fell into disrepair. It was then that I was brought to the Corbin family home. Raised by Joseph until I was six, I was passed to the Corbin’s when it was time for schooling. Roy was terribly sick, and we scraped for food as best we could, until Uncle Roy determined he could fish the Lake. Slowly his catch began to feed the family, feed the community, feed a business and regrow the family wealth.
I met Lansing Lotte when Uncle Roy was still ill, before I was taken.
He’d been at the manor house with his mother, Vivian, who was practiced in the ways of holistic medicine. She came to administer her concoctions to Roy, in hopes that she could break the mysterious fevers he had, and eventually regain the use of his legs. The latter never happened as he was confined to a wheelchair the remainder of life.
It was during one such visit that Lansing went off with Elaine and Elliott to search the estate grounds. There was talk of his young strength being able to open an old iron door, sealed shut on a dilapidated outer building. My uncle was in another one of his prophesizing moods, where he predicted that Lansing could open the door and reveal a treasure rumored to be below it. When word travelled back to the main house, that Lansing had, in fact, not been able to open the door, I met my cousins approaching the house unconcerned with what that iron door hid and the importance of someone opening it.
“He is not the one,” I blurted at Elaine, who was all smiles and worship of the young Lansing Lotte with his drooping hair and dotting dimples.
“Oh, he is definitely the one,” Elaine drawled as she stared after him. At fourteen years old, a good word to describe Elaine was hormonal. She was attracted to Lansing immediately, and a secret obsession began that spanned more than a decade. I, on the other hand, had no interest in persons of the opposite sex or anything sexual. I just wanted to survive the mystery of my life. It was a constant nagging question of why was I here with the Corbins, a distant family relation that I felt quite separated from, despite living with them.
> “How do you two know each other?” Perk demanded breaking into my memories. His eyes still shifted between the rearview mirror and Lansing.
“Holi and I met once. A long time ago,” Lansing said like it was no big deal. This seemed to upset Perk even more.
“Met how?”
“At Elaine’s. You’re cousins, right?”
“What?” Perk almost screeched. His focus was fully on the rearview mirror. I refused to look, but he did a quick glance over his shoulder to the back seat.
“Hollister?” he said, his tone softening.
“I don’t really remember you,” I lied. Lansing turned in the seat again to assess me. I was still staring out the window when I spoke, and we suddenly pulled up in front of the decrepit shelter. Perkins stopped in front of the building, and I immediately opened the door to escape. He barked my name again. We were on a roller coaster ride of emotions. One minute he was driving me mad with his non-kisses, his non-touch. Then he was kissing me with a passion I’d never felt before. Another minute, he was just making me mad, like this morning.
Perk turned fully in the driver’s seat to face me. His expression showed he was waiting for further clarification.
“Are you cousins with Elaine Corbin?” he spoke again.
“Something like that.”
Perk ran a hand over his short hair and sighed deeply.
“Truth, Hollister.”
“I can’t explain this all now. I have to go.” I shoved open the door.
I ignored Lansing Lotte and almost got away with ignoring Perk. But when he called my name softly, I stopped to meet his eyes. His look told me he’d be back for me. He was trying to make good on his youthful promise.
