by Shae Black
I’m in a queen-sized bed with a similar canopy to the one in my room at Marcus’s home in Seattle. The gauze is replaced with heavier white curtains pulled closed all the way around except for the side I tried to exit. There is a large window behind Marcus covered with long grey drapes that touch the floor, they are open just a crack allowing a sliver of light to streak across the room and over Marcus’s back. The floors are stone grey but the rest of the room is obscured from my view by the canopy curtains.
I flop back against the mound of pillows and take a deep breath yuck; I need to brush my teeth. How long has it been since I brushed my teeth anyway? Marcus finishes the floor and disappears with the bucket. When he returns I’ve finally got my bearings and I think I can make it to the bathroom, with his help of course because I agreed to let him, and he will no doubt hold me to it. Standing at the edge of the bed he places one knee on the mattress, it dips under his weight as he reaches across to scoop me up like I’m nothing at all. I tuck my hands in my lap refusing to touch him. I am beyond mad and he makes it worse when out of the corner of my eye I see him smile and I feel him softly chuckle at my stubbornness. “If you were standing up baby you would be stomping that adorable little foot of yours wouldn’t you?” “Fuck you.” Shit…did I just say that? Hell yea I did! Marcus raises his eyebrows in surprise at my retaliation but suddenly I realize I’ve just stepped into big time shit with that comment.
“Oh believe me Imani, when I fatten you up and get you healthy I’ll fuck you all right.” When we are just inside the bathroom I use what little strength I have left to wiggle out of his arms and back away from him. “You, you, fuck I’m so mad at you right now I can’t even talk!” “Then don’t,” he says smugly. I absolutely cannot be in the same room with him anymore. “Get. Out!” “No.” “Yes!” “Imani, no, you’re weak and I’m worried about you…and I love you.” I sag in defeat, he’s won and he knows it. Tears of frustration spill from my big brown eyes and stream down my cheeks while he gathers me into his arms. He sighs before helping me to a small padded bench next to an old claw foot tub.
Kneeling down in front of me where I sit pathetically with my head bowed and my hair veiling my face I feel his hands on my ankles, smoothing over my calves to my knees. He lifts my chin with one finger so we are eye to eye. I imagine how I must look, like a starved wild animal with my crazy hair, 98-pound frame and puke breath. “I’m hideous, don’t look at me.”
He continues to hold my chin but I lower my eyes to the floor. “You are not hideous baby you are are sick, and that is my fault. I should never have left you alone for so long, I thought you would come out of it. I don’t know why because I was dying inside as well.” I sniff loudly and he reaches behind me for a tissue. “Blow” he orders like I’m a two year old, but I blow. “You didn’t leave me, I left you.” I say in a small voice. “Yes you did. But I knew you were going and I allowed it. I didn’t want you to leave but I thought it would be easier to let you work through it on your own and come to grips with your fears. I misjudged your stubbornness, so fucking stubborn.”
He shakes his head back and forth sighing. “I love you too you know.” I admit. He leans forward onto his knees between my scrawny legs and grabs me into a fierce embrace. With one arm around my waist and the other on the back of my head he guides my face into the warm curve of his neck. I breathe him in and life begins again, my quiet broken heart finally starts to beat and I hold on tight to that familiar magnetic pull between us. God knows I can’t live without him we belong together.
I don’t even realize I’m sobbing until I feel him stroking his hand up and down my spine and I hear him gently shushing me. “We are going to be ok baby, don’t cry. Remember, I told you nothing could touch us as long as we are together?” “Mmmhmm.” I nod and he nudges me away from his body. His hands on either side of my face he wipes my tears with his thumbs and kisses the tip of my nose.
“Bath and teeth.” “What?” “You need a bath and to brush your teeth baby, and then back to bed with you.” I suddenly remember I have no fucking idea where I am. And why the hell was Courtney on the airplane drugging me with IV medication. His hands are still on my face when I grab his wrists. “Where am I and why was Courtney on the plane?” Twisting my hands off of his wrists he places them in my lap while he stands to begin preparing a bath.
“We are in Italy, in my Aunt Angelica’s house and Courtney accompanied us on the plane to help me. She is on her way back to the states now.” He answers nonchalantly, like flying me across the world drugged and assisted by one of my closest co-workers is a common everyday occurrence! “Italy! You fucking flew me to Italy? Why Marcus?” I yell, my voice hoarse from lack of use and vomiting. He’s starting the water now, pulling bottles of this and that from a cupboard on the wall and stacking two huge, thick soft bath sheets on the counter next to the sink. “Because you can’t run from me here.”
My mouth drops open in shock and he approaches me bending to take ahold of the hem of whatever I’m wearing. I haven’t even looked at what I have on between puking all over the floor and being carried into the bathroom. I think I’m in shock. “Up.” He orders and I raise my arms while he drags the unfamiliar satin nightgown over my head leaving me naked and chilly. “Let me take care of you baby, no more worrying, it’s my turn to fix you.”
I’m too tired to argue with that and I allow him to place me into the tub where the hot water forms a layer of steam rising just above the surface. Mmmmm, why is he always right? This feels heavenly. I moan in appreciation letting my anger and shock evaporate along with the steam. “That’s a good girl, relax now.” An old ceramic pitcher painted with lavender roses magically appears in his hand. He stands at one end of the tub dipping it in the water and pouring it over my head, smoothing my hair back with his other hand making sure no water runs on to my face.
My eyes are closed when I hear the click of a bottle and then his fingers begin to massage shampoo into my hair. I’m so relaxed now I could slip underwater and drown. Marcus repeats the process twice followed by a thorough conditioning after which he twists my hair into a fat wet braid and gives it a gentle tug. “Better?” “Much. Thank you.” “Oh, I’m not done yet; we still have your body and your teeth. You will sparkle when I am finished with you. When we are finished I am going to cook you an early dinner and tuck you into bed.”
I open my eyes and look at his upside down face. “You’re crazy,” I say. “I know,” he answers. With that he continues his tender pampering until I am indeed sparkling. “I’m going into the kitchen, you need to change your tampon. You started your period during our trip.” And off he goes…just like that.
My tampon? I slide my hand between my legs to find a string, he didn’t, oh yes he did. How could I have possibly slept through that? And how humiliating, I can’t imagine how that all went down. I shake my head to rid my mind of the picture that is forming there, yuck. I wash my hands after taking care of my feminine hygiene by myself and tip toe across the cold stone floor.
The bed is cold as well, shouldn’t it be warm in Italy? It’s almost Christmas so I guess its winter here too. I know nothing about the climate, or even what part of Italy we’re in. I’m dying to explore but I’m so weak I can’t even make it to the window. Better to snuggle up and try to get warm until Marcus brings me something to eat and more importantly himself. This is such a role reversal, just months ago he was stuck in bed requiring round the clock care… vulnerable. Now the tables are turned and here I lay, at his mercy.
We need to talk about the seriousness of my past, and how kidnapping me from the hospital was a monumental breach of trust. Burying myself in the thick down comforter my thoughts wander. It’s almost Christmas and we are in Italy, is he planning on keeping me here for long? Christmas in Italy with Marcus, I can think of a million ways this mess could have turned out. Being reunited with Marcus in Italy was never on the list.
Spending the holidays in one of the most romantic countries on earth soun
ds pretty good to me. Actually just being back in Marcus’s life is incomparable to any holiday, anywhere, anytime with anyone. Wherever he is I am home, so for now Italy is home.
Chapter 3
The smell of burning wood and mouthwatering food wafts through the air as my eyes flutter open. I must have dozed off, how could I possibly require any more sleep? The curtains around the bed have been drawn back and tied with thick grey ribbons so I’m able to see the entire room now. A fire blazes in a small fireplace at the opposite end of the modest sized room. Marcus is standing next to it, one hand on the mantel the other poking the fire with an iron rod causing the flames to jump and snap.
I haven’t moved a muscle other than opening my eyes, curled up on my side I’m snuggled into the comforter but Marcus speaks to me as if I’d never been asleep. “Are you ever going to forgive me for this Imani? What we have is undeniable; I am never going away so it behooves you to forgive me. It was the wrong way to go about it I will admit that, but I was desperate and I don’t do desperate well at all.”
He has no idea that he’s already been forgiven, my heart was never angry but my mind was furious and it still is. He’s right; it was wrong, very, very wrong. I roll over to my back and flop my arm over my eyes. “Marcus, we need to talk about what happened to me, I need you to understand exactly how wrong this was.” He continues to poke at the fire a little more force behind each jab now although he doesn’t turn to face me. I peek under my arm and see his body tensing up, his hand is gripping the mantel so tightly his knuckles are white.
“Imani…” “No, Marcus you have to know, we can’t go on until you understand what I went through. You have to realize that this can never happen again. Believe me I don’t want to tell you any more than you want to hear it.” “I doubt that” he answers flatly. “Please…we need to get past this. I can forgive you but I have to be assured you will never do anything like this again. After I tell you I will be.” I watch as he props the fire poker against the stone surrounding the fireplace.
Running his hand through his hair he pinches the bridge of his nose with the other. His eyes squeeze tight in pain. “Marcus…are you ok?” “Mmmhmm, just a headache…it’s nothing.” “Doesn’t look like nothing.” I say with rising concern, the man just traveled sixteen hours on a private jet in compressed air with a tumor the size of a lemon growing in his brain.
I open my mouth to protest but he cuts me off before I can speak a word. “I have dinner for you.” Now he’s avoiding the topic, his head really hurts. I can sense his suffering from across the room. I follow his gaze and notice a silver tray on a bureau. It’s overflowing with plates of pastas and desserts. Marcus must have brought it in before tending to the fire. Closing the distance between us he gathers the tray and carries it to me. I scoot back against the pillows to make room for him to place it in front of me.
It smells like heaven. I’m very aware of my empty stomach when it growls loudly, how long has it been since I’ve really eaten? I can’t remember…that’s not good, no wonder I’m so damn thin. “It smells so good Marcus, you made all of this?” I ask very impressed by his cooking abilities. “Yes, I told you I can cook, I’m not too bad at baking either. I’ll pack some pounds on you before you know it. We can start working out together too, when you have the strength of course. “Working out…wow it’s been a long time since I’ve been to the gym, my life is so off track. I’ve been effectively kidnapped by a crazy man who kidnaps people when he sees fit, loves fiercely and puts the fear of god in everyone but me.
“I’m sure it’s not necessary to ask but do my parents and my boss know I’m out of the country?” “Yes you are correct it is not necessary to ask, of course they know.” “So, it’s just me who had no idea then?” He reaches out to tuck a loose tendril of hair behind my ear and I cower slightly causing him to frown. “You haven’t forgiven me yet have you?” “No…I told you…we need to talk first.”
He heaves a deep sigh and grabs a linen napkin from the tray tucking it into the collar of my tank top and again I involuntarily flinch but he ignores it this time. “Eat. Go slow. I do not want to clean up any more vomit today.” “Then we talk?” “Yes Imani…if it’s necessary for you to forgive me, we will talk.”
I can honestly say after eating Marcus’s cooking I know why this man is filthy rich he is incredibly talented. If his Aunt Angelica were still here today I would kiss her and thank her for passing on her craft to her nephew. Marcus was right, as usual; I will be packing on some pounds if I eat like this for long. Note to self, be sure to request some fruits and vegetables in the future, as I’m currently on carb and sugar overload.
While I eat Marcus pulls a chair next to the bed to watch me carefully. He never speaks a word but he does nod in approval occasionally when I eat what he deems to be enough of a particular item on my tray. I don’t come close to finishing even one dish but I’ve done the best I can and I’m nearing nausea again. Communicating through only quick glances, lifted eyebrows and head nods he understands I’m done and removes the tray setting it on a table by the window.
Completely satisfied, I’m feeling much better than I can remember feeling in… well in weeks I guess. Relaxing back into the mountain of pillows on the bed I’m surprised when Marcus returns and peels his t-shirt off and slides out of his jeans. My Adonis stands temptingly within my reach in only his black briefs. “Marcus… what are you doing? I thought we were going to talk.”
He moves like a panther across the bed and slides under the covers next to me before I can say another word. “You talk baby, I will listen but I’m not going to like this so I need to feel you close to me.” He raises the thick cover and motions me into my old familiar spot tucked next to him under his strong arm. “Scoot” he orders, I sigh and roll my eyes but move into my place. My God, I can’t believe the relief and feeling of home that spreads throughout my body when I am enveloped in his arms. It’s incomparable to anything I’ve ever felt, he’s my addiction and I’ve finally got my fix.
I don’t want to talk about bad things; I don’t want to tell him about my past now that I’m snuggling next to his hard warm body. I’m sure this is exactly the reaction he was counting on but this time he’s not going to get what he wants. I have to tell him my story. He moves the comforter up over my shoulder with his free hand and we lay wrapped in each other’s arms soaking up the moment of unity that both of us have been craving for so long.
I have to break the spell. I have to get this over with. It’s imperative that he knows though so I dive in headfirst. “They raped me repeatedly as soon as they had me in the abandoned house where they were staying. It was dilapidated, run down and it smelled like mold and urine.”
I feel Marcus inhale a deep breath and hold it. Every muscle in his body coils but he doesn’t speak so I continue. “They kept a mesh bag over my head for a long time, a day and a night maybe so I’m not sure. My hands were bound with rope behind my back. They took my clothes and beat me in between raping me. They hung me by my bound hands from a pipe that ran along the ceiling of the room and took the bag off of my head. I couldn’t see them though my eyes were swollen shut from being hit.
They shattered nearly every bone in my face; they cut my hair off with a knife in chunks down to my scalp in some places. They taunted me with it, calling me Barbie. They stabbed me I don’t know how many times with the same knife. The plastic surgeon who fixed my face was the best money could buy, you can hardly see any scarring.” Marcus has a death grip on me and I’m sure he hasn’t taken a breath since I started speaking but I can’t quit now.
“They took turns with me and I started blacking out off and on, I was bleeding from the knife wounds, the pain was unbearable. The relief of being freed from the pipe gave me a moment of hope the first time they unhooked me. I thought it was finally over. That hope was a short-lived they only took me down to get at me from different angles. They raped me with more than just their bodies. I could feel the blood running down my legs.
There was a wound on my back that was caused by a piece of glass. I heard it break before… well before...”
I have to stop for a second the memories are overwhelming. Every time I allow them in I relive it all over again. After a shaky breath I start again. “I’d given up hope of surviving, I prayed for death but they kept me right there on the brink for what felt like forever. They would hang me up when they decided to take a break from, which wasn’t very often. One of them liked to burn me with his cigarette and another jabbed me with some sort of metal rod. The police say I was there for 3 days and nights. One night when they took a break I heard a door slam when one of them left.
I think they were periodically doing drugs maybe he was going to a dealer I don’t know. I was barely conscious but right before I passed out completely again I heard someone crash through the door, people were screaming and yelling. There were heavy footsteps running in and out of rooms, more doors slamming. They were searching for me, someone heard me screaming when they walked by the house and called the police. I can’t even say I was relieved or glad because I passed out before they could get me down from the pipe. When I woke up I was in the hospital.”
When I’m done with my story I take another deep breath and realize that my grip on Marcus is as tight as his is on me. Finally he begins to breathe again. My God, did he hold his breath through the entire story? Silence hangs between us while I wait for his reaction. I can’t stand it anymore I have to know what he’s thinking so I loosen my arm from around his abdomen and prop up on my elbow to see his face. I was expecting rage, fury, pity or anything but what I find.
His eyes are closed but tears stream silently down his face, the steady flow continues while my heart shatters into a million pieces in the center of my chest. What have I done? Guilt encompasses me as I realize that sharing this with him is too much for him to accept. He has his own demons to fight and now he has mine as well. He told me he didn’t need to hear my story and I assumed he was trying to protect me from the pain of telling him but maybe he was protecting himself from having to know the horror I endured.
