by Kenya Wright
“And what’s the good fight?” she asked.
For that, I didn’t have an answer. The battle had bad people on both sides. The poor citizens of America weren’t even on the teams. They were just the pieces on the board for the players to move around and take away.
“How could I beat these people causing terror?” she asked as rage blazed through her eyes.
I couldn’t even look at her. “Who’s causing the terror?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’ve always been so smart, Dawn.”
“Stop playing with me.”
“I’m serious. You don’t know who did that to the airport. You don’t. I don’t. But we do know what they’ll say.”
“They?” she asked.
“The media or government. It doesn’t matter.” Both were puppets to the Eight anyway, but she didn’t need to know that. Not every politician and media outlet were controlled by these monsters but most of them were. “It doesn’t matter who will say it but someone will.”
“Say what?”
“That it’s a terrorist attack. That we’ll need to go to war. That all of us are in grave danger.” I held her tighter, molding her chest against mine. So close, I felt her heartbeat rising with each of my words. “We haven’t had a good war in a long time. War makes money. The economy is failing to make rich men richer. They’ll want a war.”
“No, this country is always fighting somebody.”
“Those are little battles. They make money but nothing like a good, big war. Something that takes a lot of lives and lasts for years.”
Dawn got out of my hold and walked off to the couch. “You’re scaring me.”
“I don’t mean to. I’m just saying.” I shrugged. “If you think of money and war, look at World War II.”
“Dear God. I don’t even want to think like that.”
“You should. A lot of families got rich from that war. I bet your Freddy’s family even pocketed some big bucks. The US made close to three hundred billion. Germany too. Britain and the Soviet Union was over a hundred billion.”
“No. Everyone’s country was damaged and destroyed. We lost so much.”
“We?” I gave her a sad smile.
“Everyone lost,” she declared. “The world lost.”
“No. You mean the powerless and poor lost. The average man and woman died. The people who were pawns, which accounts for around eighty percent of the world’s population lost, but no, everyone didn’t lose.”
“Thanks. Your words are like soothing hugs.”
“The truth is a tough reality to chew on.”
“Well, next time give me my truth with a large bottle of vodka.” She turned to the television as the screen began to show images of burnt bodies stacked in front of the airport’s remains.
The Eight had wanted those shots to spread across American living room screens. They wanted the terror to reach out from their televisions and grip their fucking hearts. They wanted Americans anxious and up all night in bed, wondering if they would be next, praying to God and country for someone to fix it.
They’re going to get their war, and then I’ll be even busier this year.
An exasperated breath left my lips. “I’m just saying that you should consider taking a break from this country for a few years.”
I shut the television off.
“Wait.” She glared at me. “Why did you do that?”
“People died. You don’t need to sit there and watch the news the rest of the day. You’re safe.”
“How do I know that?”
“Trust me. You’re safe. You don’t need the news to tell you that. You’re here and safe.” I leaned my head to the side. “You’ve called your friends?”
“I tried, but it doesn’t matter. Everyone I know has already marked themselves as safe on Facebook.”
“Good.” This morning, I’d had my people call in bomb threats to the schools and universities near the airport. Everyone had been evacuated before the first bomb detonated in the airport. I was certain the authorities would get a team to investigate the source of those phone calls. But I wasn’t worried. Half of them had been made from independent lines in Greenland. That breadcrumb trail would only lead them to ice and harsh weather, nothing more.
I turned back to Dawn. “You should leave the country.”
“I’m not leaving America.” She sighed and sat down on the couch. “And stop being so depressing. What we should be talking about is how can we win?”
“It’s not a battle worth fighting.”
“Saving people is always a good battle to fight.”
“Is it?” I asked.
“Yes. This country is worth it.”
This country?
I kept my laugh to myself as I sat down next to her.
I wouldn’t fight for this country if they gave me twice as much money as they do to destroy it.
Dawn was the only person in the world that I would battle the Eight for. It would be a short fight with me dead in days, but it would be worth it.
I don’t have any family or friends. As long as Dawn is safe, this whole country can burn around me.
Dawn was always monitored. I always needed to know her position on this planet. Where she was located. Things were always going on behind the curtains—from new apps being introduced to a gun shooting in an elementary school in a small town. Everything was done in a way to maintain a soft slavery among the country’s population. Skin color didn’t matter. Religious preference didn’t matter. Nationality didn’t even matter. It was all a monopoly game that never took a rest. And so, I had to make sure she would never be touched by the craziness.
Dawn turned the television back on but kept it on mute. It was a tiny bit of compromise and one I wouldn’t fight her on.
She wiped more tears away. It was hard to see the terror and pain on her face. I hated it. In many ways, I’d helped paint that horror. And it didn’t matter that I’d saved her. She was the type of person to not think of her own survival but the survival of all.
I leaned into the couch and watched her. “Why do you care so much?”
“Because we’re all connected.”
More guilt filled me. I hated when she did that. “Are we?”
“Yes. You like science. Doesn’t science say the same thing?”
I nodded. “Our genetic make-up is similar. Every person on this Earth. We have physical differences, but overall, the human population is genetically similar. That still doesn’t mean that some of these genetically similar humans don’t deserve to die.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
I ran my fingers through my hair. I needed something to do—a way to hide from those little judging gray eyes of hers that hammered through my chest and made me expose it all.
“Let’s talk about something else.” I placed my arm around her, testing it out like we were teenagers on our first movie date.
“Okay. This conversation isn’t making me feel better anyway. It’s just further depressing me.” She shut the television off and leaned her head against my arm. “I have to get back there and do something.”
“No. I’ll send money in your name but—”
“I don’t want a charity with my name, I want everyone alive again.”
“I can’t do that, but I can send money. That would do more than one woman rushing down to a crowded, chaotic city and getting in the way as officials do their job.”
“But—”
“Spend some time with me and let’s figure out how I can use my money to help down there. Just a few days. We could figure out something.”
She remained silent and closed her eyes.
What are you thinking?
I had no words for those sweet seconds. Off her guard, she was close to me, damn near snuggling against my body. Although it was just her head on my arm, I went hard as a rock in my pants, yearning to pull it out and beg her to kiss the tip one more time.
Stay calm. Stay quiet. Don�
��t fuck this up.
“Stay with me for a few weeks,” I blurted that shit out, instead of listening to myself. The plan had only been to keep Max, Freddy, and Dawn out of Miami, not win her back. But with her so close and smelling so good, I couldn’t keep my addiction at bay. “Yes, stay with me.”
“What?” She opened those eyes and gave me an odd stare.
“Not forever. . .Of course.”
“Of course.”
“Just. . .you can’t fly into Miami or Fort Lauderdale anyway.” Relax. Look calm like it doesn’t matter. Don’t show her how much you need her. Don’t fucking get on your knees and beg. “And trust me, it’s going to be chaos in Miami for the rest of the week. People will be fleeing and crying and—”
She trembled against me. “Okay.”
The response was unexpected. Just in case I’d been dreaming, I asked her again, “Okay?”
“Yes.” More tears left her eyes. She wiped them away. “In some ways, you saved me. If you hadn’t put me on this weird chase with Freddy, I would probably be. . .”
Dead? Never. I’m always watching you.
“Thank you,” she said. “And yes, let’s figure out a way to help and I can. . .I will do whatever. I just want to. . .”
“I know. You want to help and heal the city. That’s why I love you. You get angry and then you get active at trying to solve the problem.”
“I do that and still feel powerless.” She fell into my arms.
I stiffened, too scared to make any sudden movements. It seemed death and fear made her forget about our past for a few seconds. I had to drink in her warmth as long as I could.
For several quiet minutes, she lay against me, shaking. I wasn’t sure, but I think she cried some more.
I wrapped my arms around her and held her close to me. “Let me take you to our island.”
She sniffled. “Don’t say our island.”
“Fine.” I ran my fingers through her soft hair. “Let me take you to my island.”
Her voice came out low. “Okay.”
I hated the fear in her voice. “It’s going to be okay.”
She looked up at me. More tears streamed down her face. “This is just so fucked up.”
“Yes, but you can’t let the world fuck you up. You just have to breathe and stay in the moment.”
“The moment is fucked up.”
“No.” I held her tighter. “That’s what they want you to think, but really, you’re just fine. Everybody is fine.”
“Not the people who were attacked.” She raised her head to eye level. Those beautiful lips lay barely a few inches from mine.
I wished we were talking about something else.
Would she be this close to me if she wasn’t scared out of her mind?
I ignored that thought. “The people who died today get to start over again in another life.”
“You believe in reincarnation?”
“Science proves it. We’re made of energy and energy doesn’t die.”
She blinked.
I inhaled her beautiful scent and wanted to suck on her skin, squeeze those nipples, and lick the wet folds between her thighs. But this wasn’t what she needed. It would be temporary medicine and me taking advantage of her while her mind was scattered.
“What were you going to say?” She leaned in closer to me. Those nipples hardened and poked through her shirt. It could’ve been because of the cold temperature, but I knew she was turned on. Tragedy did that to people. It made them rush toward anything that would cause them immediate pleasure and erase the pain of the moment. Sex did that. It filled the time with moans and skin sliding against skin. Sex made one forget about the monsters tugging at the puppet strings.
Testing her, I brushed my lips against hers and she didn’t move away. “You’re fine and that’s what you focus on.” I landed a soft kiss on her cheek and then the other. “You’re fine and everything is going to be okay. You can’t let them get in your head.”
“Them?” Her breathing quickened.
“Them.” I placed a soft kiss on those lips, nothing too long or taking too much time but damn, it felt so good to kiss her again.
When I pulled back, worry decorated her face.
“We’re. . .” She swallowed. “Caden. . .we’re not back together.”
“I know.” I buried my face into the curve of her neck. “I know.”
“It’s just.”
“I know.” I swear a shiver ran through me and fear too. I had to get us off these fucked-up topics. She was making me feel and I didn’t like it.
What did I do? Why can’t I stop the Eight, instead of being a part of the problem? What’s wrong with me?
I pulled away from her. “Do you remember our poem?”
“You mean Wordsworth’s poem?”
“He might have written To a Butterfly, but we inspired him.”
“From the future?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember how it goes?” I asked.
Sighing, she leaned away and looked at me. “We’re not back together, Caden.”
“I know.” I brushed my lips against her. “I’ve watched you now a full half-hour. Self-poised upon that yellow flower. And, little Butterfly! Indeed, I know not if you sleep or feed.”
She closed her eyes and lay back in my arms.
“How motionless! Not frozen seas. More motionless! and then.” I nibbled at that soft spot on her neck again. “What joy awaits you, when the breeze.” I slipped my hand along her shoulder. “Hath found you out among the trees. . .”
She stopped my hand as I began to slip it to her breast.
“Just let me hold you,” I whispered.
Her voice came out shaky. “But—”
“I know. We’re not together.”
She blinked. “And—”
“This isn’t forever.” I seared her with my gaze. “Just let me hold you.”
She waited for too long before finally murmuring, “Okay.”
And that was what I did. I held her, even though every part of me yearned to do more. I held her through the night, stealing small kisses when I could. I wanted more, so much more. But I’d made her crazy in our relationship and crazier this week. Even if I’d told her my justifications, she still wouldn’t want to be with me.
Because who would want to be with a man who helped monsters?
At least she’s not in danger anymore, but how long will she stay with me? Can I win her back? And what will I do with Freddy now that our little game is done?
I wouldn’t push her. I just needed some more days to pretend like I had her. Freddy would surely move on. After she told him to leave her alone at the museum, he probably would’ve simply turned to another. Sure, he played the obsessive lover but I knew obsession. I swam in that shit. This was just some passionate activity to him, where Dawn was the only joy in my life. She was my angel in my world of darkness and monsters.
She’ll give me a week at least. Maybe I can get her back. Or maybe not. Even if I had her back, I couldn’t have her for too long. They’d find out and make me get rid of her again. Fuck! Fuck!
She stirred against me and all those thoughts evaporated into visions of her naked.
Damn her.
I breathed her in as she fell to sleep.
No matter what, it’s going to be okay. Whether she comes back to me or not, she’s safe.
Chapter 24
Freddy
Moonlight hit the island. The ocean reflected the light like a black mirror. Bright lines painted rippling black waves.
This better work.
Sneaking on to a private island was as hard as breaking into the White House and jacking off in the oval office. When I decided to do it, I made sure to get help. When Max and I headed off to college, we spent those times and the rest of our adult years partying our asses off. Due to that, we had a lot of friends. Well, more like associates. Nonetheless, I’d made powerful friendships all over the world. Several of my friends had famil
ies that owned islands. However, my old frat buddy, Perry’s family were the only ones that owned islands along the South African coast. They had money in oil and banks. A bunch of big wigs that were so stronghold about their money, that they still married their second cousins to keep their holdings in the family.
But none of that mattered because it was just my luck that when I told Perry the name and location of the island mentioned in Dawn’s Diary, he had claimed that his family owned it. Apparently, Perry’s father had a man that worked for him and spent his time on the island. I asked him if the guy was named Caden but Perry doubted it. However, he had no idea what the guy’s name was either way.
It took another hour to convince Perry to help me. He’d been eyeing my car collection for years and wanted to take three vehicles as his price for getting me get on the island.
Perry could’ve bought my whole damn car collection with the money in one of his accounts, but he simply wanted what others loved. He figured that cars and boats were still my only passions, so he went for them.
Dawn is my passion now. You can have anything else.
That being said, I ended up giving a lot more away with Perry’s help. For one thing, I had to dress like a woman. Perry wouldn’t have it any other way. Sadly, I agreed. I had to make sure Dawn was safe. If this Caden had taken her to this island, then I had to make sure she was okay.
Perry had met me at a boutique in DC. I had to hand it to him, he’d done his research and found an expensive place that made designer clothing for closet millionaire crossdressers. There’d been rumors in college that Perry liked to dress up as a woman. Someone claimed that they walked in on Perry dancing to Brittany Spears and wearing pink panties. No one had confirmed it. And no one really wanted to. Some things were better left behind closed doors.
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Perry had paid a good price to shut the store down.
A Japanese girl in a patent leather cat suit prowled toward us. “How can I help you, Mr. Rothschild.”
I eyed Perry. “They know you here?”
He waved my suspicion away. “I’m known everywhere.” He faced her. “We would like a few outfits for my friend. Let’s give him something that’s fitting for a proper lady going on an island vacation. Something comfortable, but not showing off too much of her figure. Exquisite, but not flashy. Soft to the touch but not—”
