Distorted Hope

by Marissa Honeycutt

  His lips didn’t move from mine as he began to slowly thrust in and out. One arm moved around my shoulders and I wrapped my arms around his neck once more. His tongue moved in my mouth with the same rhythm as his cock.

  We moaned against each other’s mouths, clinging tightly to one another. My hands moved into his hair and I kissed him deeply, passionately. When the stirrings of an orgasm came on hard, I pressed my head back into the pillow behind me and gasped, arching my back.

  “Say my name,” he said in a husky, demanding voice.

  “Nathan!” I cried and my orgasm hit me full force. “Oh! Oh, Nathan! Oh!” I screamed as the most intense orgasm I’d felt so far in my sexual experiences threw me into a powerful spiral up into the stars.

  He thrust deeply and throbbed inside me as he released himself deep into my body. My legs wrapped around his waist and I clung to him as the pleasure seemed to go on and on and on.

  As my heartbeat and breathing returned to normal, I continued to cling tightly to his shoulders and began to shake a moment later. My teeth chattered and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make myself be still.

  “Shhh,” Nathan hushed gently after rolling to his side and pulling me close. He pulled the blankets up over my shoulder and pressed my head against his chest. “It’s alright, Kitten,” he said in a low, soothing voice, stroking my hair and kissing my temple. “It’s alright. Just relax. It’s okay.”

  It was rather surreal, being comforted so tenderly by a man who made and sold weapons to bad people.

  “No! God, no!”

  I woke to a loud yell. It took me a moment to remember where I was and realize it was Nathan who had yelled. But he didn’t sound angry. He sounded… bereaved. Wounded.

  I turned and saw him thrashing his head back and forth on the pillow in the moonlight from the windows in the upper wall. “Danielle! God, no. Please, God, no!”

  His cries made my heart ache. What sort of nightmare was he having?

  “Patrón?” I whispered, putting my hand gingerly on his shoulder.

  He groaned and shook his head.

  “Patrón?” I made my voice slightly louder, but he didn’t respond. I was hesitant to use his name but thought he might not respond to anything else. “Nathan?” He had stopped thrashing but groaned as if he were in pain. I repeated his name, putting my hand on his cheek.

  His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist as he sat up and opened his eyes. “Danielle?” he said in a hoarse voice, reaching for my cheek.

  “No, Patrón,” I protested, wondering who this Danielle was. “It’s Kyra.”

  He continued to stroke my cheek. “Danielle, oh, my love, I’ve missed you so much.” His voice cracked as he spoke and I swallowed nervously. He leaned forward and kissed me, cupping my jaw with one hand. I kissed him back, enjoying the gentleness, but still trying to figure out who was Danielle.

  He pulled away and held me to his chest, whispering the name ‘Danielle’ again and stroking my hair. I had a feeling it wouldn’t be a good idea for him to continue thinking I was this other woman, but did I dare risk trying to tell him who I was again?

  “Please, Patrón,” I said, pulling away and touching his cheek. “Please, wake up. It’s Kyra, not Danielle.”

  Nathan squinted at me and then blinked several times. He shook his head and then stared at me for a long moment in silence. Slowly, his face became hard and then he snarled. “Get out,” he said in a harsh whisper.

  “What?” Is he kicking me out of his bed? In the middle of the night?

  “Get out. Get out of my room.” He pushed me away. “Get the fuck out of my sight!”

  I was tangled in the sheets and struggled to get away. When I didn’t move fast enough, Nathan pushed me harder. I twisted, the sheets gave way, and I fell backward, to the edge of the bed.

  “Get the fuck out of my bed and out of my room!” he roared, pushing me once more.

  I fell hard onto the wooden floor below the bed and scrambled to my feet, wincing. He yelled at me again, and I grabbed my dress as I scuttled around the bed and to the doorway. When I paused to put my dress on before going outside, he threw something at me and it hit my shoulder. Hard. I shrieked and opened the door and ran out onto the patio, naked.

  I heard something shatter from inside the room and I sprinted back to my bedroom, clutching my dress to my chest. When I got inside, I barely closed the door behind me before diving into my bed, pulling the covers up over my head and curling into a ball, shaking uncontrollably.

  I was so scared, I could hardly think. My shoulder stung where the thrown object had hit me, and my back hurt from falling onto the floor. Tears streamed down my cheeks, wetting the mattress below my face.

  What did I do to upset him so much? And who is Danielle?

  Sleep must have finally overtaken me because the next thing I knew, it was morning. I was still curled up in a ball under the covers, but light peeked in around the edges and I could hear voices in the courtyard.

  The blanket moved down as I stretched out my legs and I groaned at the aches in my back and shoulder. Last night hadn’t been a nightmare; Nathan had really pushed me out of bed and thrown something at me. I still was clueless about what had angered him.

  The clock by the bed said it was just before eight o’clock. Nathan had told Jason breakfast was at eight-thirty. I didn’t want to be late, so I got up and went into the bathroom.

  The shower was stocked with feminine washes, shampoo, and conditioner. I showered and then went into the closet to find something to wear. There were many dresses hanging inside, both long and short.

  Since I’d worn a shorter dress the day before, I decided it would probably be safe to do so again today. I picked out a purple dress and checked myself in the mirror. I winced when I saw an ugly bruise on my right shoulder. I’d seen it—and certainly felt it when I was in the shower—but seeing it the mirror made me realize how dark it was. I had to find something to cover it and when I turned to go back into the closet, I saw bruises on my back, as well. One side of the closet had shirts and sweaters hanging and I pulled on a light, cream-colored sweater to wear over my dress.

  After brushing my hair and using a product that promised to control frizz, I headed toward the dining room. Nathan was there already, as were Mark, Jason, and Colin. They glanced up when I appeared in the doorway and I paused and looked at Nathan, waiting for his permission to come in. He gave me a cursory glance and gave a short nod before returning to his conversation with Colin.

  Breakfast was much like dinner had been the night before. I ate as much as I could, which wasn’t much, while being completely ignored. When the men had finished, they got up and walked out. Nathan didn’t say anything to me and I didn’t know what to do. Did he want me to follow him?

  I pushed my chair back and hurried after him, but when he was halfway across the courtyard, he wheeled around and glared at me.

  “You will stay in your room except for meals, until I tell you otherwise.” He turned back around on his heel and walked away, leaving me stunned.

  Slowly, I turned and walked back to my room. I supposed I should be glad I didn’t have to sit in Nathan’s office all day, and I was, to an extent. But I was confused, as well. Again, I wondered what I had done to anger him. He’d been so… well… loving when we’d gone to bed. What had happened to change that?

  “You okay, Kyra?” Mark was walking down the stairs as I was walking up. “Why are you in here?”

  I shook my head. “Patrón told me to go to my room.”

  “He did?” He looked surprised. “Why?”

  I looked up at him with sad eyes. “I don’t know. He…” I swallowed. “I don’t know what I did to anger him. He woke up in the in the middle of the night yelling and then told me to get out.”

  Mark’s brows raised slightly over his dark brown eyes. “He had a nightmare?”

  I shrugged. “I guess so.”

  “He hasn’t had one in a long time.” Mark grimaced and did
n’t speak for a moment. “Alright, well, do as he says. I’ll check on you later.”

  I nodded and made my way to my room.

  I wandered around my room a little, familiarizing myself with it. There was a small dresser next to the bathroom door with swimsuits and the shorts and shirts that had been in the yacht. Over that, a flat-panel TV hung on an extendable, rotating arm so it could be seen from any point in the room, save the bathroom.

  The stone balcony was long and wide. When I looked over the wall of the balcony, I saw this side of the compound sat on the edge of a gorge. The ground was several hundred dizzying feet below me, and I stepped back a little, where it felt safer.

  Aside from the fact that only a four-foot-high wall kept me from plunging to my death, it really was a beautiful sight. The surrounding mountains were so unbelievably green. It was a sharp contrast to the brown mountains I had grown up around in the Valley of the Sun. The sky was cloudy, but I liked clouds. And rain. Rain in the desert was a rare occurrence I savored.

  I didn’t know much about the different kinds of clouds, but it was possible these clouds might hold rain. They were gray and fluffy, but in Phoenix, even if the horizon was filled with them, it didn’t mean we’d get any rain. Rainstorms were obviously not so rare here, and I looked forward to experiencing one.

  The square building next to the main house, where the women lived, was only one story high and had a courtyard in the middle. Beyond that, I could see some trees and surmised they were part of the garden. Oh, how I wanted to go see it.

  But being cooped up in this room wasn’t so bad. It was large and had a huge balcony. There were much worse places to be.

  When my back began to ache, I went back inside to lie down on my bed. Being on my back was difficult, as was lying on my right side, so I curled up in a ball on my left side and stared at the wall next to the entrance door.

  A knock sounded a few minutes later.

  “Come in,” I called, not moving. I’d just found a comfortable position and was reluctant to move.

  Mark came in with another, older man I hadn’t seen before. His kind expression made me feel at ease immediately. His darker skin and salt-and-pepper hair made me think he might be a native to the area.

  “Are you alright?” the man asked, concern appearing on his face when he walked over.

  I nodded. “Yeah, just a little sore.”

  Mark’s left brow raised. “What happened?”

  I looked away, embarrassed at what Nathan had done.

  “Kyra?” The older man knelt down next to me. “I am Dr. Perez. I watch over all of El Patrón’s girls.” His voice was not especially low, but it was a nice, soothing, accented voice. “Are you sick?”

  I shook my head. Just sore and confused.

  “Kyra, what’s wrong?” Mark’s voice had a hint of warning in it and I sat up, wincing.

  “Na—Patrón, pushed me out of bed last night and then threw something at me.” I looked up at Mark. “Who’s Danielle?”

  Mark’s mouth opened in surprise. “Where did you hear that name?”

  “Patrón. He… he thought I was her.”

  “Is that what his nightmare was about?”

  “I don’t know. I guess so. He said her name a few times. Who is she?”

  Mark sighed and shook his head. “I’m not at liberty to tell you that.”

  “Oh.” I looked down at my hands in my lap.

  “Where are you hurt?” Dr. Perez asked.

  “My shoulder and my back.”

  Dr. Perez helped me remove my sweater and muttered something in Spanish at the sight of the bruise on my shoulder. “What did he throw at you?”

  “I don’t know. It was dark.”

  The doctor examined me, running his hands over the skin and making me wince. “I’m sorry, querida,” he said when I inhaled sharply. After a few minutes of examining my shoulder and back, he nodded. “It’s a very bad bruise, but no permanent damage done.”

  “Good,” Mark said from the other side of the room. He had sat down in the corner sitting area.

  “Thank you,” I said softly.

  “You said he had a nightmare?” Dr. Perez asked, standing and moving to a bag he had brought with him.

  “Y—”

  “Let it go, Luís,” Mark said in a low voice.

  The doctor turned in surprise. “But if he is having nightmares again—”

  “I said, let it go.” Mark’s voice was sharp and the doctor gave him a strange look.

  “Alright, alright.” Dr. Perez held up his hands before opening his bag and pulling out a small bottle. He handed it to me. “Take two of these every eight hours until the pain subsides.”

  I was pretty sure it was ibuprofen, but the label was in Spanish and I wasn’t certain. I glanced at Mark, who nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Perez.”

  He gave me a kind smile. “Now, for the reason I came. When was your last pelvic examination?”

  I blushed. “I’ve never had one.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  Dr. Perez raised his eyebrows. “Why haven’t you had one?”

  I shrugged. “I hadn’t had sex. I didn’t think I needed one.”

  Dr. Perez studied me for a long moment and then frowned at Mark. “You took a virgin?”

  It was Mark’s turn to put up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t know. I never in a million years would have suspected she was unexperienced.”

  “Really?” I gave him a surprised look.

  Mark grinned. “I told you I thought you were hot.”

  I blushed again and played with the hem of my skirt. I was beginning to feel pretty. Especially when Nathan had—

  “Do you need to stay for the examination?” Dr. Perez asked.

  Mark stood. “Nah. I’ll be back in a little while.”

  After Mark had left, Dr. Perez had me lie back on my bed and he examined me while asking me questions about myself—my health history, my family, my menstrual patterns. “Do you know about birth control?”

  “A little.”

  He told me about the different types he could give me. “El Patrón doesn’t like the IUDs because they can… well, they can get in the way sometimes. Pills are fine, but you must remember to take them every day.” He listed off other pros and cons of the various available methods. “Men who come here are required to wear condoms when you have sex with them. The men who live here at the house are not. I test them regularly and they don’t use any girls without condoms except the ones here.”

  Most of the girls used a shot, and the doctor and I decided it would be my best option, too, but since I wasn’t starting my period for a few weeks, he inserted an IUD for temporary protection.

  “Tell El Patrón it’s just temporary, and I’ll take it out next month.”

  The IUD insertion was very uncomfortable and Dr. Perez had me take some of the pain medication and told me to rest for the remainder of the day. “You’ll feel better in a few hours.”

  He patted my head and gave me another one of his kind smiles. “If you need anything, tell Pasha or Mark. I live in the village down the hill.”

  I ate lunch in my room and dinner, also. When Mark told me I wasn’t needed at dinner, he looked upset. Like he hadn’t wanted to tell me.

  I cried myself to sleep that night to the sounds of the socialization downstairs. I was painfully aware of how alone I was. Horrible images of Jason being with the other women filled my mind, and I didn’t understand why the thought of Nathan doing the same thing hurt just as badly.

  The next several days passed similarly, except there was no doctor visit. Food was brought to me four times a day: the regular meals and one snack mid-afternoon. I didn’t see anyone except Beatriz, who brought my meals.

  The socialization in the living room happened every night, and every night I felt more and more lonely. I found myself straining to hear Jason’s voice and was rewarded at least twice a day. One time, when I heard Jason approaching m
y room, I opened my door a bit and we made eye contact. He started to speak, but the needles erupted in my neck and I closed the door and screamed in pain. Apparently, Nathan still watched me. After that, I stayed away from the door.

  On a few days, it rained, and I went out on my balcony to watch the torrential downpour. The balcony was shielded by the floor above me and I stayed out there—wrapped in a blanket and huddled on a chair—for hours. My Kindle, which Mark had returned to me on my second day of seclusion, sat next to me, unused, as I stared at the amazing storm in front of me. The only thing that could have made the time better would have been to be able to have Jason with me.

  Oh, Jason! My heart ached every time I thought of him. What was he doing? Was he okay? Was he enjoying himself? Was he still alive? Was he still here?

  A week later, there was a knock at my door after dinner. I hesitated to answer it.

  “Kyra?”

  It was Jason. My heart leapt, but fear crept in immediately. I didn’t say anything.

  The door opened and Jason stood in the doorway. I flinched, expecting the pain any second.

  “Kyra, Nathan said I could come.” Jason opened his arms, his eyes full of love and, after a moment’s hesitation, I ran across the room and into his awaiting arms.

  “Jason! Oh, Jason!”

  He held me tightly and buried his face in my hair. I was thankful the bruises weren’t bothering me anymore, though they were still visible. I wouldn’t have pulled away, though, no matter how much it hurt. Tears of joy escaped from my eyes and I sobbed into his shirt.

  We stood there for an eternity, clinging to each other. I was half afraid of the needles beginning again, but they didn’t, which meant Nathan must have really said he could come.

  “Can you stay?” I asked, looking up into his dear face.

  He grinned and nodded. “All night.”

  I sighed in joy. At last, we would be able to be together again. My heart soared with love for him as he turned out the light and led me to my bed.