by Emerson Rose
I turned my nervous energy into chatter talking until there was nothing left to talk about. When we go to bed, its honesty time, and I’m trying to put it off as long as possible. Xander knows what I’m up to, and he allows it until he can’t stand to watch his daughter’s head bob back and forth anymore.
“I’m going to put her to bed, her sleeping pill kicked in. Meet me upstairs in my office in ten minutes.” He stands taking his body heat with him. The right side of my body is chilly now, and I feel like I’ve been summoned to the principal’s office.
“Okay.”
I watch him walk away with Victoria limp in his arms. When they are out of sight, I take my phone from my pocket and check my messages. One from Twyla gushing about Xander’s house—she must have found the picture online. Another is from Sam at work asking if I’m doing okay after being fired. And nothing from Enrique since earlier today, thank God.
I get off the couch and pick up our ice cream dishes, rinse them out, and put them in the dishwasher nice and slow. No need to rush the inevitable. I straighten some books on the coffee table and put the remote away in its spot. The glass wall has enormous doors, and they are still open. I cross the room and shut them locking the regular lock and a deadbolt that connects to the floor.
I stare out into the dark and wonder if Enrique is still out there, and if he is, what is he planning? Suddenly, I’m extremely grateful for Xander’s security system, bulletproof glass, and steel doors.
When I turn around and survey the living room and kitchen, I sigh. It’s as clean and tidy as it’s going to get. I have to bite the bullet and go upstairs to talk to Xander about my past. I shut off the lights, all but one, and climb the stairs slowly.
I peek into Victoria’s bedroom when I walk past hoping that Xander will still be tucking her in, but he isn’t. She’s resting on her side holding her Miss Ellie elephant.
I continue down the hall until I come to an open door. Inside, Xander is sitting behind his desk looking at a computer screen. When he sees me, he closes the window on his screen and stands up.
“I thought we could talk in here, fewer distractions… not as many temptations as the bedroom.”
“Good idea.”
“Let’s sit on the couch. Can I get you a drink?”
A drink—hell yes, that sounds like a damn good idea. Maybe I’ll have a few. I don’t think I’m going to like what I hear tonight and a little dulling of the brain cells couldn’t hurt.
“Yes, please.”
“Wine?”
“Got anything stronger?” He looks at me with one eyebrow raised like the Rock. “What?”
“Nothing. Scotch strong enough?”
“Yes, thank you.”
He has a small bar built into the wall next to the sitting area. I watch him pour us both a double, and he hands me one before sitting opposite me. He’s serious about the no- temptation business.
“Sasha, you know I did a background check on you and nothing out of the ordinary came up, but I can’t help think you’re keeping something from me. Something important. We haven’t known each other long, but I want you to know you can trust me.”
I hold up my hand palm out. “Stop, it has nothing to do with trust. I’ve felt a strange connection with you since we met in the ER. I will admit, I have been through some things that aren’t on your background report, but I think the less you know about that, the better.”
“Oh you do, do you? Why’s that?”
“It has nothing to do with you.”
“Sasha, if there is a strange man lurking around my house during the day watching you while he smokes half a pack of cigarettes, I’m pretty damn sure I have a right to know what’s going on.” He’s right. He does have the right to know, and I should tell him. Maybe he could help me? Maybe he could stop Enrique?
No. Nobody can stop Enrique, not even the police. I have to end this now.
I scoot to the edge of the couch and lean forward clasping my hands together. “Xander, I’m so sorry. I know this will put you in a difficult spot, but I think the best thing for everyone would be for me to leave. Zion will be home Friday, and I’m sure you can find a temporary nanny for a couple of days until she’s back on her feet.” I have no idea how long that will be, and it breaks my heart to think of someone else stepping into my shoes when I’m gone, but it’s for the best.
“Absolutely not,” he says taking a long drink of his scotch.
“Um, what do you mean? You can’t hold me hostage here. If I say I quit, I quit.”
“You never said I quit.”
“Well, let me make it super clear then, I quit.”
“No.”
“Xander, it’s not up for debate. I’m quitting.”
“I agree, it is not up for debate. You are staying, and you are going to tell me what the hell is going on right now so that I can fix it and make you feel safe. Don’t open your pretty mouth again unless it’s to tell me who you’re afraid of and don’t you dare try to get up and walk out.”
A shiver of excitement runs up my spine, and I swear I felt butterfly zings between my legs. What the hell is wrong with me? I should be pissed that he’s bossing me around and upset that he won’t let me leave. Instead, I’m turned on and optimistic. Xander is powerful and wealthy, and maybe he can do something to help?
“I used to be married,” I start.
He wasn’t expecting that. I watch him sit back and take a deep breath.
“I didn’t come to California for the ocean. I came with my husband, Enrique Sanchez.”
“Your background check didn’t say you’d been married.”
“It wouldn’t, we were married in Mexico. I met Enrique at a bar when I was twenty-six. He was handsome, rich, and powerful. I’d been working in gas stations and retail ever since I could remember, so he was looking pretty good to me. My mama said he was a good catch and my ticket out of the lower class. So, when he started coming around a lot, buying me stuff, and spoiling me, I thought she was right. He took me on a vacation to Mexico. He told me we were going so I could meet his family because that’s where he was from. When we got there, he changed. He wasn’t sweet and attentive in front of his family. He acted like I was his slave, and he treated me like one, too. His Uncle Julio married us one afternoon when he told me we were going out to lunch. He never even asked, just said we’re getting married today. There wasn’t much I could do. I was in a foreign country where I didn’t speak the language, and he was acting like a different person. I was scared, so I did as I was told, and that was the beginning of a miserable two-year-long marriage.”
As I speak, I watch his face harden, and the frown lines between his eyebrows furrow deeper and deeper. I was right, I shouldn’t be telling him this.
“You know, this is a bad idea. I know you think you’re helping, but, Xander, I…”
“Continue,” he calmly says.
“But…”
“Continue.”
I take a deep breath and blow it out, standing up to walk off some of my nervous energy. I stop to take a big drink of my scotch first and pace to the other side of the office to the window. I can feel his eyes burning into my back. I don’t want to look at him when I tell him the rest.
“When we came back to the States, we came to California. He didn’t tell me where we were going. I figured it out when we landed. He would go for days without talking to me, and then, just like that, he wouldn’t shut up. He asked me my opinion on everything, spoiled me, took me to parties, and showed me off like a shiny new toy. And then he would beat me senseless for not putting enough butter on his toast. I lived in a constant state of heightened awareness. I walked on eggshells twenty-four-seven wondering and worrying what kind of mood he was going to be in next. He was jealous one day and wanting to share me with his friends in bed the next. I lived in a mansion, but it felt like a prison. He controlled my every move, he shamed me, degraded me, tore down my self-esteem until I acted like a stray dog on the street. And then one day he
found a new plaything. Alessandria was just like me… poor, impressionable, young, and naïve. I told her to run, stay away from Enrique, but he had his claws into her already. I could see the stars in her eyes. When she wouldn’t listen, I took advantage of the situation and asked him for a divorce never letting myself believe that he might give it to me, but he did.” I turn to face him now that the humiliating part is over.
“So you got a divorce, and what, he’s still bothering you?”
“We got divorced, yes. Then I found out I was pregnant. Just when I thought the nightmare was over, I learned a part of him was growing inside of me. I could have had an abortion, but I was desperate for something or someone to love after being so alone for two years, so I decided to keep it. When I was seven months pregnant, Enrique found out through the grapevine. He was furious that I hadn’t told him. He had it in his head that I was cheating on him while we were married, and that’s why I asked for a divorce. He came to my apartment and pushed me down the stairs. I lost the baby.” My voice cracks, and a tear slides down my cheek, but Xander doesn’t move a muscle.
The truth sucks, but he’s the one who insisted on it.
“He pushed you on purpose?” he says quietly trying to sort through my mess in his head.
“Yes.”
“And, he’s still bothering you?”
“Yes. He’s the one who caused the car accident two weeks ago. He came to Macy’s when I was getting off work and stopped me in the parking lot. He was talking about getting back together and having another baby. I told him there was no way in hell, and he attacked me, but I was able to get into my car and drive away. He followed, and well, you know the rest. This isn’t the first time. He pops up every couple of months trying to get back together with me. Usually, I can change my phone number and hide out for a while until his mood has changed, but it’s been happening more and more frequently until the accident.”
“It wasn’t a hit and run?”
“No, it was him. He followed me for a while, and I thought I’d lost him. I came to a four-way stop, stopped, and when I took off, he came out of nowhere from the other direction and slammed into me. I saw his car and the look on his face when he accelerated, but I was knocked out when he hit me.”
“Why didn’t you tell the police? Why on earth would you say it was a hit and run?”
“He’s a very bad man, Xander. He’s involved in some big drug cartel in Mexico. I thought he would leave me alone when we got divorced, or I would have moved back home to Minnesota. It’s been over a year, and he’s getting worse. I don’t know what to do.” I walk to his office chair and sit down propping my elbows on my knees and dropping my face into my hands to cry.
I never cry about this shit. It’s my fault I got involved with that psychopath, and I have to deal with the consequences. I’ve never told the whole story to anyone, not even Twyla, until tonight. It’s overwhelming. I can’t hold back the emotions of the past few years any longer.
I hear Xander get up and cross the room. He scoops me up out of the chair and cradles me against his chest as he carries me to his bedroom. I want to say no, no, no, we can’t do this, that sex is only going to make matters worse, but his arms are comforting, strong, and most of all, safe.
I haven’t felt safe for years.
He sits me on the edge of his bed and kneels in front of me. Without a word, he removes my shoes and places them next to the night table. I watch through an ocean of tears as he takes my face in his hands and whispers, “Sweet, sweet girl, you’ve been through enough. I’m here now, and I’m going to take care of you.” His thumbs come up, and he sweeps away the tears flowing down my cheeks. “Come on, lie down,” he says patting the pillow. I lay my head on it pulling my knees up into the fetal position, and he hands me a wad of tissue before he pulls the comforter up over my shoulders and kisses me on the cheek.
“We can finish talking tomorrow. I want you to sleep now and know that the security system is on, and he can’t get to you here, you’re safe.”
“Where are you going?” I say grabbing his hand when he stands to leave.
“Nowhere. I’m going to change, and I’m coming to bed. I won’t leave you.” When he says I won’t leave you, I know in my bones that he won’t ever leave me.
Sometimes you just need to be tucked in and kissed goodnight.
18
Xander
I’m conflicted, and I can’t sleep. I put Sasha to bed hours ago and spooned with her until she fell asleep. My mind wouldn’t shut up, and at two in the morning, I slipped out of bed and paced my bedroom, sat in a chair watching Sasha sleep, took a shower, and finally, I took out my laptop and sent Calvin an email. Private investigators keep strange hours, and luckily enough, he emailed me back right away arranging a meeting for later on today.
I’m hiring a bodyguard to watch over Sasha and Tori. When Sasha wakes up, I’m going to hire someone to follow Enrique and someone else to do an in-depth background check—someone from the FBI or the DEA.
I fix all kinds of people’s faces including congressmen, lawyers, and FBI agents. I’m well connected in my own way, and a lot of people owe me favors. One way or another, I’m going to make this man go away and leave Sasha alone.
What kind of monster treats his wife like a dog, divorces her, and murders their unborn baby? I look at her sleeping face. She’s been fitful like Tori was for months after her mother tried to kidnap her.
All night she’s been flopping around in bed, frowning in her sleep, mumbling, and occasionally whimpering. I leave her be. If I get in bed with her, I’ll end up waking her and making love to her, and she doesn’t need that right now.
Before I know it, my alarm is going off, and it’s 4:00 a.m. I quiet the alarm before it wakes Sasha and get ready to run. I promised not to leave her, and I meant that, at least for a while. I’ll run inside on the treadmill today and go to work late after my meeting with Calvin. I scribble a quick note telling her I’m downstairs in the gym and prop it on the night table by the lamp.
Thirty-five minutes later, I’m in the zone running to Under the Bridge by the Red Hot Chili Peppers when I feel a hand on my arm. I look down and pull the earbuds from my ears.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you, but there’s a man at the front door, and I’m not comfortable opening the door to strangers.”
“No need to apologize. Did you sleep well?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know, I mean I was in bed for the proper amount of hours, but I feel like crap.”
I press the cool-down button and text Calvin to wait a few minutes. “You tossed and turned all night.”
“I kept you up, I’m sorry.” She leans on the mirrored wall behind her.
“You didn’t. I wasn’t in bed.”
“You didn’t sleep?”
“No. I had things to do.”
“What about work today? Won’t you be too tired?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m going in late, and I want you and Tori to come with me.”
She’s quite for a beat. “Who’s at the door?”
“That’s Calvin, he’s here for a meeting with me.”
“A meeting about what?”
“You. Tori. Me. Your ex-husband. What was his last name again?”
“Xander, please don’t go digging. He’s dangerous, more dangerous than you could ever imagine. I don’t want you or Victoria on his radar.”
I stop the treadmill and wipe my face with a towel. “Sasha, I realize we have only known each other for a couple of weeks, but I need to tell you something. I have a reputation as a manwhore. I don’t get into relationships because I don’t want the responsibility that comes along with them. I also don’t want strangers around my child. Can you see how many things I have changed because of you? I have feelings for you… big, scary, deep feelings. So if you’re on this fucker’s radar, so are we because as far as I’m concerned, we are a package deal. Now, if you feel differently, you need to tell me. I’m going to take
care of you, and I will still do my best to eliminate that black roach from your life either way.”
She pushes off the mirror and takes two steps bringing her next to me where I am still on the treadmill. She takes the towel that’s hanging around my neck and pulls me down to stand in front of her.
“I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you or Victoria. I have feelings for you, too… big, scary, deep feelings. I also have feelings for your daughter… protective, maternal feelings,” she says gazing up at me. “But, I can’t ask this of you. It’s not fair to either of you.”
“You didn’t ask. I’m offering, no, insisting, so let’s go upstairs and talk to my head of security and private investigator, Calvin, who’s waiting at the front door.”
Her eyes drop to my chest leaving me to guess if she’s going to make this easy and go upstairs with me or make it hard and argue.
“Okay. I need to check on Tori anyway.”
I pull her in against my sweaty t-shirt and squeeze her tight. “That’s my girl. Come on, we have a plan to make.”
I open the front door for Calvin who looks annoyed. “Morning,” he says moving past Sasha and me. “Office?” he clips. Calvin isn’t the most personable guy, he’s more of a gym rat combination sneaky Pete, but he’s never been rude to me.
“Well, good morning to you, too, and yes, my office is fine.” He starts for the hallway, but I grab his muscle-bound bicep and stop him. “Calvin Heart, this is Sasha Rivers. Sasha, Calvin.”
“I figured since you don’t let women in your house,” he says looking irritated. What the hell is going on with this guy today?
Sasha, sensing the tension in the air, steps forward and offers Calvin her hand. “Nice to meet you, thanks for coming to help.”
“Yeah, well I don’t think it’s a good idea, but I’m not going to let anything happen to Tori, so let’s go figure out how to get rid of this asshole.”
