by Nicky James
“Caro—”
“W-why?”
His hand lifted my chin. “Because this man can’t keep getting away with this. No matter how you try to explain it to yourself, what he did to you last night… what he’s been doing all this time, it’s… it’s illegal.”
I got the feeling he wanted to say something different, but was treading lightly. I searched his dark eyes, knowing he was right. I’d known for a long time. I wasn’t stupid, but…
“He’ll shut it all down, won’t he? Your brother?”
Remy nodded.
“But… you don’t understand. All my friends… they will be homeless and out of a job if I do that.” I shook my head. “I-I can’t do that to them.”
Remy’s forehead pleated and he sighed. “I can have Alessio look into options for them. There are programs out there. Soren this man won’t stop unless someone stands up and says something. I understand your concern, but what’s next?”
He was right. I hated that he was right. “I know.” He drew my head back down to rest against his chest and played fingers through my hair.
“We can talk about it in the morning. Try to sleep.”
I didn’t think it would be possible with how frantically my head raced, but being in Remy’s arms and feeling his secured hold around me and his gentle touches, I quickly drifted off.
It was late morning before I woke again, still encased in Remy’s arms. I shifted and lifted my head. The room was brighter and his smile warmed me when I saw it.
“You sleep like the dead,” he said when he saw me awake.
I laughed and wormed up to nestle into the crook of his neck again, inhaling him and settling in. “You are like a comfortable body pillow. And you smell good too.”
He chuckled and his grip around me tightened. “I won’t lie, I like this very much, but I’ve been lying still for the last three hours with you on top of me and my muscles are seizing up.”
I hooked my legs around his and looped my arms, one around his neck and the other under his arm. “Too bad, deal with it.”
“Just wait until you are my age, Caro. Your body will not be so forgiving.”
I smiled, because he wasn’t trying to remove me at all and instead squeezed me tighter. “How old are you?” I’d never asked, but I had been curious for a while.
He groaned. “Must we?”
“We must.”
“Thirty-five. Will that make you run for the hills and not look back?”
I lifted my head and frowned. “No. You know I’m only twenty-two and you didn’t run from me. I’m not like that. Age is a number, it doesn’t mean anything.”
His smile creased his eyes and brought out the small indents on his cheeks. “Then why did you ask?”
“Just needed to know when my body would start failing me is all.”
He laughed, the movement bouncing me on his chest. It washed away the darkness and covered me in light, and I laughed with him. When we calmed again, neither of us spoke as we stared into each other’s eyes. My stomach fluttered as it had been doing around him lately and nerves like I’d never truly felt before wiggled their way to the surface. They were excited nerves. Ones that I used to feel back in high school when I was crushing on a guy. Sadly, since that time, they’d become foreign to me.
Remy’s hand came up and the backs of his fingers brushed my cheek. And then, because I wanted to, and for no other reason, I leaned in and kissed him. Our bodies were crushed together already, but he secured an arm around my waist and slid me higher so our mouths could align. His lips softened and parted when mine did, allowing our tongues to find each other and join in a manner they were becoming familiar with. The whole sensation, every time we explored it, made my body come alive.
Remy’s hands explored my exposed skin, following up the curve of my spine and travelling back down again. We couldn’t be close enough and our kiss deepened as we tasted each other with less reserve than the previous times. It was passionate and yet he commanded every moment, carefully not letting it get out of hand. He nipped and licked at my lips, taking me to the edge of my own personal nirvana before bringing me back down again.
Leaving me breathless, he pulled back and stared deep into my eyes. Only then did it dawn on me that I was nearly naked and he was fully dressed.
“We’d better stop, Caro.” He licked his lips as he caught his breath. “Do not think I’m not enjoying this, but I’m only a man and you are testing the very edges of my self-control right now. You drive me crazy.”
I chuckled and buried my face back into his neck. “You like it.”
He let out a shaky breath and laughed with me. “More than you know.”
Because the thought of where we might end up if we continued brought a ridiculous amount of apprehension to the surface, I didn’t argue. More than once I’d ventured down that road in my head and I’d have been lying if I didn’t admit there was a pull in that direction. A small part of me, for the first time, wanted to explore the new sensation. It was nothing like how I felt at work. There was no requirement tied to it. It was new and exhilarating. But, I wasn’t sure I was ready to go there yet. Nor did I think Remy would allow it.
Reluctantly, I moved over, and allowed him to get up. He took a minute to smooth himself out, trying fruitlessly to brush away the wrinkles in his clothes. In an effort to cover a failed laugh, I snorted.
“Oh, good grief, you’ve probably never slept in clothes a day in your life, have you?”
“To be fair, I’m not sure I slept, but no.” He gave up and pinned me with a smile halfway between amusement and embarrassment. “I’m going to clean up and put some food together. I thought we could go back to your apartment and grab a few things. Like some of your clothing.”
I rose from the couch and purposefully swayed my hips, gifting him a facetious smile. “Why? Is there something wrong with what I have on?”
His eyes roamed my body before returning to my face, and he shook his head. “Not at all, only, I can’t concentrate and we have a lot to take care of.”
Visibly fighting his own self-control, he backed up a few steps and turned to head down the hall to the bathroom.
“Oh and, Soren, don’t even think about rearranging the things on my shelf again. I’m on to you.”
The bathroom door closed and I laughed. “You like it,” I said to myself.
With Remy occupied, and strict instructions not to mess up his apartment, I found myself wandering again. It was hard to know where to put myself when I was there. Everything was obsessively clean and had its own place. Not a single thing was out of order. I wasn’t accustomed to such an environment and not for the first time, I wondered how someone so obsessive compulsive could even look twice in my direction.
Everything in Remy’s life was perfect…
… except me.
I was the chaos, the disorganized mess, the unpredictable, random, erratic piece who didn’t fit. Yet, instead of running, he embraced who I was.
It was more than I could wrap my head around.
I settled back on the couch as I waited for him to finish in the shower. He had no game system to entertain me, and no stereo, so I couldn’t play music. It was sterile and quiet. There wasn’t even a fun magazine to flip through.
The magazines.
I dropped my gaze to the perfectly stacked piles on the shelf under the coffee table. There on the top was the one Remy had shown me a while back. The magazine with his article that I’d never truly read or brought home. I grabbed it off the top and thumbed through until I found the piece Remy had written. Since he was distracted in the shower, I felt less pressure than before and started reading it again. Slowly, one word at a time, ensuring I understood each sentence before moving on, I read.
Many of the names of places threw me off but by the second page, I followed what was written and was engaged enough, I didn’t hear the shower turn off or Remy enter the living room. When I turned to the third page, I saw his form at the edge of my
vision and jumped. Shuffling up on the couch, I closed the magazine and laid it back on the pile.
“You’re welcome to read it. You forgot to take it home last time.”
I averted my eyes as my cheeks heated. “Your country seems really beautiful. It’s a great article.”
Remy crossed the room, and I moved over so he could sit beside me. He wore a pressed pair of jeans and white button-up which he had yet to button. It was the first time I’d seen him even a little undressed and I faltered, trying not to stare. There was light hair on his chest and more definition than I’d expected. He took care of himself, that was for sure.
“I like it very much. Not sure I’d ever want to move back though. I like the distance from the family.”
“Are they… accepting of you? Mine aren’t.”
He retrieved the magazine as he considered my question. “Mostly. More of a tongue-in-cheek sort of acceptance. It becomes strained if I’m around them too long.”
“Is that why you moved here?”
“Not officially,” he said, placing the open magazine in my lap, again opened to his article. “Alessio wanted to come and go to school. I convinced my parents there were better opportunities and I wanted to go with him. I was only fourteen, but old enough to know I didn’t want to stay at home anymore. Alessio agreed to be my guardian and my parents reluctantly allowed me to follow him.” He smiled in my direction and tapped a finger on the magazine. “Read.”
My gaze shot to the open article and back to his face. “What? No. Why?”
“Because you have three interviews lined up for next week. Ones whose skillset will require you to be able to read.”
“I know how to read,” I snapped. “It’s just… I don’t read fast because it all gets jumbled up and then I don’t understand it, okay?” The heat of him studying me made me squirm and I closed the magazine, before shoving it back into his hands. “I’m not stupid.” I jumped off the couch, wanting to be anywhere but under Remy’s microscope.
He didn’t let me go and rose, stopping me and taking my face in his hands. It was hard to look him in the eyes, but I couldn’t shrink away. “I’ve never called you stupid. I’m staggered by the amount of obstacles life has put in your way and the ease at which you handle them and walk with your head high. Most people looking in see such confidence and assurance. No one is perfect, Soren. No one.”
“You are. Look at you and your life.”
“Believe me, I’m far from perfect. Do you think I enjoy this neurotic need to have everything exactly in order? Do you have any notion how difficult it is leaving my house every day and submersing in public situations? This is not perfection, Caro. Far from it.” His lips gently kissed my forehead before he asked, “Are you dyslexic?”
I nodded and dropped my gaze to the ground. It wasn’t until recently I even discovered that my difficulty reading and writing wasn’t my fault and didn’t come from lack of trying. I’d struggled my whole life and instead of having the help and support of my parents, I was simply labeled as stupid.
“It’s why I dropped out of school and went to work for Donny when he made me the offer. No matter how hard I tried, I could barely scrape a passing grade. I wasn’t quite seventeen. His offer held a lot of appeal. I didn’t know any better, plus, it gave me financial freedom which I’d never had before. My parents had given up on me, and I told them I was working at the courthouse at night filing. They were gullible. I think they were just happy I was working and not embarrassing them with my grades any longer. They didn’t know any better. I tried to go back and get my GED, but it didn’t work out. I get behind and then I can’t catch up. I try, I really do, it’s just hard. I can read, but I need to go slow so I catch it all and don’t mix things up. Will that mess me up for these jobs?”
Remy released my face and clasped my hands. “No. I will coach you through what to say. Disclosing you have dyslexia won’t hamper your chances. Least of all with Brent, and his is the job I’m hoping you accept.”
Brent was his photographer friend from the magazine. His was the interview I worried most about because I had no idea whether I was cut out for that work or not.
“Now,” Remy said, eyeing me up, “as much as I enjoy you traipsing around in your underwear, I was considering maybe taking you out for breakfast instead and this may not go over well for what I have in mind.”
After a filling breakfast at a far too fancy diner and stopping in at my apartment so I could grab some clothes, Remy took me to his brother’s house in a ritzier end of town. It was a two-story tan brick in a new development area where there was ongoing construction all around. The houses all had the same structure and feel, with slanted roofs, large windows, and spacious porches out front. Alessio’s lawn was the only one on the block with grass, the others around him had yet to have their sod laid.
Remy shut off the engine and turned in his seat. “Are you okay?”
I hadn’t much thought about all the report might entail. Even though I knew in my mind that all I’d been through with Donny and those other men at the club was wrong, I’d spent years just accepting it as part of my job. The previous evening had been upsetting, mostly because it had happened so unexpectedly. Remy’s ongoing presence every weekend had offered me a chance to step back. Submersing into that mindset again had been difficult… impossible.
“Yeah. I’m okay. It feels a little weird sharing all this with someone. Especially a cop. I’ve spent years avoiding them because I always figured I’d be charged with prostitution or something and maybe thrown in jail. I won’t be charged, will I?”
“No.” Remy’s hand came up and brushed my bangs from my face. “You are not at fault.”
I nodded and was about to get out when a thought crossed my mind. “When they… If they shut The Escape down, they’ll be going through stuff, right?”
“I imagine there will be an investigation and the police will want to collect any evidence of your story.”
I bit my lip and met Remy’s gaze. “There are drugs in my locker. A.J’s too. Probably a lot of the other guys. Will… will that get us in trouble? I’m not a user… or at least not a regular user… until recently. I just… we all kinda need something to help us… you know…”
“Escape?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think you should worry about it. We can let Alessio know, so there aren’t surprises. But the concern is more Donny’s illegal practice then worrying over what his victims did to cope, believe me.”
“Okay.” Again, I went to exit the car, but that time it was Remy who stopped me.
“Caro?” I turned back. “Between us, are you sure the drugs aren’t a problem for you?”
“I hated them. But it was the lesser of the two evils. I have no desire to do that anymore, believe me.”
We made our way to Alessio’s front door and were greeted by a woman who introduced herself as Natalie. Alessio’s live-in girlfriend.
She escorted us to the kitchen—an immaculate large space—where Remy’s brother and another man were talking. Both men were fully uniformed and my internal instinct had my back stiffening.
While Remy accepted a tea from Natalie, I was encouraged to follow Alessio and his partner, Ricky, into the living room to talk. By the time an hour had gone by, I’d answered every question under the sun, revealing far more about myself than I felt comfortable sharing.
“When were you hired?”
“What were the expectations of your role at sixteen?”
“Did Donny ever force himself on you?”
“Did you ever explicitly tell him no?”
“Were you physically abused?”
“Was payment exchanged for sex?”
“Did Donny threaten you with violence or sex?”
“How many men were you sexually active with?” A question I honestly didn’t have an answer to.
And so on, and so on, until I must have been visibly exhausted because they concluded they had enough information. I s
igned a few papers and gave them my phone number so they could contact me and let me know how things progressed.
Alessio and Ricky retreated into his office, and I wandered back into the kitchen to find Remy. He wrapped me in his arms when I went to him.
“How did it go?”
“I’m tired. Can we go now?”
He kissed my head and said his goodbyes to Natalie before encouraging me back to his car.
At his apartment once again, I went to shower while Remy heated us some leftovers for dinner. We ate in somber silence. The weight of my meeting with Alessio took its toll. The reminder of what kind of life I’d lived, again made me wonder why Remy had bothered sticking around.
“I’ve been with a lot of men,” I blurted out over dinner. “Enough I’ve lost count.”
Remy’s chewing slowed and he moved his chicken around his plate with his fork. When he swallowed, he lifted his gaze to mine, concern clear on his face. “I know.”
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
“A little.” His honesty stung, even though I would have been more surprised had he said no. “Have you… taken care of your health? Were you careful?”
I dropped my gaze to my own plate, no longer hungry. “Mostly. I get tested every couple of months. But it’s been a few now, so I should probably—”
“We’ll make it a priority. We’ll both go. Deal?”
I nodded and peeked a look at him. He never judged me as I expected. Always expressed concern when any one else would have turned and run knowing my life.
“It doesn’t have to be your life anymore. You’re done, right?”
“I’m done.” I’d never been more sure of anything.
Once we’d cleaned up the kitchen, it was getting late and I couldn’t stop yawning. I guess I hadn’t slept as well as I’d thought the previous night. Ordinarily, I’d be at work right then, but I was officially done with that. My phone was turned off to spare me the potential phone calls inquiring where I was. The only thing I’d done, was texted Ash to ensure someone knew I was okay.
