Ashes

by P. M. Briede

  Chapter 3

  “That’s right kitten, thought you got away? You’ll never be free of us. We’ll always be hiding here waiting for you to close your eyes.” It was Squeaky’s voice, one of my assailants from May. He’s supposed to be in jail! “You’ll always live in fear wondering when we’re going to show up again.” His sinister laugh grew as I struggled to get away from him.

  But I couldn’t. Something was wrapped around my legs and the more I fought the tighter the strictures got. “Charlotte!” At the sound of Olivier’s panicked voice, I jumped up, gasping for air. His hands were on my shoulders and his pained eyes were the first thing I saw when mine finally opened. Immediately he pulled me into his chest. “It’s ok, carissime. They’re not here, I am. They’re not ever going to get to you again.”

  I closed my eyes and crumbled into the comfort Olivier offered as I silently commanded the demons away. The nightmares had faded about a month ago. I refused to give into them again. Tears stung my eyes but I would not let them fall. I have cried more this year from grief, fear, pain, and heartache. I will do so no longer. Last night was exhausting and excruciating, it was the only reason I could fathom why my mind freed those monsters from the cells I’d put them in.

  When my breathing stabilized, the tears ceased, and I was back in control of my emotions, I pulled away from Olivier. Instantly releasing me, he knelt on the floor so he wasn’t towering above me. “Are you alright? What can I do?” The nightmare’s return had rocked him as I’m sure the evening before had as well. Just a week ago, we’d been a happy, committed couple. Since then, I’d moved out, realized I was still madly in love with my ex, and could no longer be exclusive with my current lover.

  Unable to face those facts, as they were present in his countenance, I took in the rest of my surroundings. We were in his hotel room. The curtains were closed but the sun was peeking through the slits. I was sitting in the middle of the bed wearing one of his t-shirts. There was a blanket and pillow on the floor. The clock … wait, what was on the floor? Leaning forward, I realized the facts of our changed relationship status were not only present in Olivier. There was no escaping or hiding from them. We needed to have the talk.

  In a rough voice, I started. “What time is it?” Okay, so I didn’t start. There was only enough resolve in me for one courageous event and it had already been used by my determination to cry no more.

  “Almost eleven,” Olivier answered. Crap! I was supposed to meet Paige this morning to see the sketch artist. She’d said the appointment was in the morning. As I untangled my legs from the sheets Olivier touched my arm. “I texted Paige and let her know it was a long and emotional night. Do you still remember what Banks looks like?”

  “Every detail,” I confirmed with no hesitation.

  “Good. You’re going tomorrow. You need today to rest. Paige said she could take you back to your hotel. Or we can stay here. Whatever you like.” He was acting like I was going to bite him. There had been a few times in our relationship from acquaintances to lovers that I’d seen him insecure and it threw me off each time. I depended on Olivier to always know where we were going, what we were going to do. It disconcerted me when he didn’t.

  “Why didn’t you offer your home to me?” I asked. “Have I finally become too much to bear? Is there a reason I couldn’t go to my own home?” I was tired of living in hotels. There was too much going on, too many things that needed to be faced. I needed to be surrounded by the people who love me. If Olivier didn’t want me in his home any longer then at least living in my own put me close to him, since he is my back neighbor.

  Olivier’s eyes fixed on mine with a searching look as he sat back on his haunches. “I didn’t even think of your home, truthfully,” he finally answered, and why would he? I’d been living with Olivier since the break in. “And I wasn’t sure if you’d still consider my home an option given everything we’ve learned.”

  Taking a moment to think, questions and thoughts raced through my mind. Unable to focus on just one my mouth opened and they came flooding out haphazardly. “When did you realize what had happened to Wesley? He said you told him we are to play house. You said yourself we all must keep up our current pretenses. Did you sleep on the floor last night? But you also said you’re a selfish man and you don’t want to share me, yet that is all I can offer right now. You know I have no idea how to do this, love the two of you, I mean? Abigail’s really not the Wyatt’s daughter? We should have a code word or something. Do you think Celinda knows I can identify her? We both need time to figure things out. I know that but at the same time I don’t want to be away from you. Will Celinda know Wesley is no longer under her thumb? You were able to tell by looking in Abigail’s eyes. Does it work the same for all exiles? Wesley kissed me last night and I let him. You should know that too. Never mind, you couldn’t possibly want to know that. What am I thinking? Maybe it would have been better if you’d fulfilled your purpose when we met at fourteen, like you were supposed to. Were you able to alter Abigail’s mind? How are we going to be in contact with Wesley going forward? Am I allowed to talk to him? I do love you, you know. That hasn’t changed.” My distracted ramblings were put to a stop by Olivier’s lips.

  Fairly confident that he’d just meant to simply silence me, my body chose his kiss to center on. When trying to pull him up onto the bed with me failed, I climbed down into his lap. But he wasn’t responding. His hands were still on my thighs. His body didn’t meet mine. While he was accepting my kiss, he wasn’t kissing me back. I’d become something I loathed. I was using him as a diversion from all the confusion and he knew it. To stop my mistreatment of him I bit my lip, sat back, and searched his eyes.

  They were closed to me. There was no fire, no sparkle, no sadness, no anything. They eerily looked dead, yet I could tell he saw me. His fingers spread across my thighs. “We need to talk. Preferably slowly and on one subject at a time.” His hands were slowly moving up my legs. I didn’t move unsure how he wanted to proceed. It was interesting to watch it dawn on Olivier that his body was reacting to mine without him telling it to do so. The shadow in his eyes faded some and he looked down at his hands as if they were a strangers. His fingers were grazing the line of my panties. “You don’t have any clothes, do you?” he asked. Olivier’s eyes memorized all of my features as he lifted his head.

  “Only the dress from last night,” I whispered. One of his fingers started grazing over me and I couldn’t stop the gasp.

  “Do you want me to stop, carissime?” Olivier inquired with an examining stare. I knew he should, knew I should want him to. But I didn’t, so I couldn’t say the words. He shifted back so he was no longer sitting on his legs and leaned against the wall. “I know you love me. I love you too. Right now I want nothing more than to please you. I want to be the distraction that you need. I want to be your refuge as you are mine.” His hand was no longer between my legs. When he’d shifted he’d pressed me up against the proof of his desire. “I want to be inside you again.”

  Warmth spread throughout my body and my face grew flush. “Is this what you meant when you said you weren’t going to stand idly by?” I assumed from Olivier’s conversation with Wesley last night. “I know it wouldn’t be just sex. I know adults have multiple partners all the time. But I don’t think I’m one of them.”

  Olivier didn’t say anything right away. “I am a selfish man. Mainly because I’ve never had a reason not to be. I have no idea how I’m going to handle it but right now the thought of losing you altogether is a death-blow to my heart. Sharing you, while not my ideal, I can survive for the moment.” His arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me into him as he spoke.

  A dull fire lit his eyes, the flames smoldering deep in their recesses. I couldn’t keep from kissing Olivier deeply and this time he kissed me back. He was hungry, famished really, as he catalogued every contour of my mouth with his tongue. He didn’t release me until I was breathless. “That is how I want you to think of me, Charlotte. Remember
this feeling when you are comparing us.” He chuckled mildly at the end.

  I giggled, shook my head, and stood to go to the bathroom and get ready for the day. Olivier followed and turned on the shower. “Can we shower together?” he playfully questioned. With our relationship issues pseudo resolved I laughed as I denied him. He shrugged and stripped naked in front of me, then caught my eyes in the mirror. “Just another reminder of what you’re giving up,” he teased as he stepped inside.

  During his very long shower, I called Paige and she brought my suitcase to Olivier’s room. I confirmed the time for the sketch artist for the next day and asked about her evening with Tristan. “We’ll talk about that tomorrow,” she responded, “but you don’t need to worry about us. Besides I want to hear about your adventures last night. Tristan heard from Wesley on the pretense of work stuff and I can hear Olivier whistling Dixie in the shower. So does that mean you’re the turkey in a very hunky sandwich?” Her eyebrows danced at her ill-conceived notion.

  I groaned and rolled my eyes. “God, Paige! Seriously not!”

  “Seriously not, what?” His drawl sounded behind me. Quickly turning, I saw Olivier leaning on the doorframe to the bathroom clad only in a towel and a sexy smile.

  Of course his timing would be that spot on! “Nothing to do with you,” I lied as I shoved Paige out the door.

  Chuckling deeply, he stepped up to me with licentious eyes. “You just stay right there.” I held him at bay with one finger and a stern tone. “I’m ready to get cleaned up myself, so we can go back home. There’s a lot to do today and it’s already almost the afternoon. We have to go get my stuff from my hotel. We need to figure out how we are all going to communicate safely with each other. The campaign leaves on Tuesday and you and I return to work on Monday. So we only have a few days to hammer out the details.” Just then my stomach rumbled noisily.

  “Looks like we also need to feed you,” Olivier observed. “When was the last time you ate?” I actually had to think about it. “Okay, the fact that you don’t readily know means it’s been too long. Go get cleaned up. I’ll leave some clothes out and pack up everything else in here. I’ll also order up some room service so there will be food waiting.” Grateful for his thoughtful care, I headed to the bathroom. His hand caught my arm as I attempted to slip past him. “So what kind of bread do you want with that turkey sandwich?” he asked, amused. Yanking my arm away from him, I groaned, pushed him out of the doorway, shut the door, and locked it. But it didn’t keep out his thundering laughter.

  A couple of hours later we were home. Well, what I considered our home. Right now I was a bit of a gypsy. I owned a home but didn’t feel that I could live there alone anymore. I also refused to live there with anyone other than Wesley because if I chose Wesley I didn’t want memories of another man haunting me there. Olivier insisted on carrying the bags into the house but paused before taking them upstairs. “Everything alright, charissimus?” I asked.

  “It just occurred to me that I’m not precisely sure where to put your bags,” he answered. “Are we still sharing a bed even if we aren’t making the most of it?” His lips were curved upwards at the corners and his eyes flared but there was a slight insecurity in his tone. I feigned distress over what to do to toy with him. I must have done a good job because for once he responded without mock concern. “Charlotte, it’s okay if you want a room to yourself now.”

  Given that I am not a well-experienced liar, I was unable to keep the performance up for long. His face made me burst out laughing. It felt like it had been an eternity since I’d done so. “Oh, Olivier, just put my bags back in our room. Sex or no sex, if I’m going to live here, I’d like to still share your bed. Of course, if that is still what you want.”

  Olivier approached me, stopping at the edge of the couch. As he leaned against the arm he eyed me like he’d never truly seen me before. His arms crossed over his chest and I felt I was being judged for some unknown crime. Uncomfortable with his brooding demeanor I grabbed my bags and made towards the stairs. “Come back here, Charlotte.”

  “Why?” I didn’t release the bags but I did stop and turned to glare at him over my shoulder.

  “Why exactly are you mad?” Olivier’s hand cupped around his jaw as he attempted to hide his amused smile from me.

  “I could ask the same of you!” I countered as I rounded on him. Actually I hadn’t been mad but I was beginning to get more familiar with the emotion. “What is so damn funny?”

  “I wasn’t mad!” Olivier exclaimed with a chortle. “Not in the slightest. It’s just I thought I had you all figured out, that there were no more surprises wrapped inside that beautiful package of yours. But how you’ve been today about our relationship, how you were last night with Abigail, I’m baffled!”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “How so?”

  “I have never met another woman who would be so conflicted about using two very eligible, very committed, and at least one very handsome, men to her fullest advantage!” Even the admission of the fact I was no longer solely his did nothing to dampen Olivier’s current mood. “And last night! Last night you were brilliant! How is it the woman I’ve watched so intently over the last twenty some odd years not be able to lie her way out of a paper bag, spun a web of deceit so convincing it not only convinced a skeptical and well versed prevaricator it was the truth but also finagled the information we needed to accomplish our mission.”

  Pride oozed out of every one of his pores but I actually felt ashamed of my behavior last night. I still hated Abigail and undoubtedly always would. It wasn’t that I’d become skilled in the art of deception. I reviled her so vehemently that I’d sought to instill in her some notion of how it felt to have the rug yanked out from under you. To feel like everything was in order and made sense only to find that everything you thought you knew had been wrong. I’d let my emotions get the better of me last night and it wasn’t something I was proud of.

  Before we could continue the doorbell rang. I was doubly surprised with us not only having company but that Olivier seemed to be aware of it. Needing some water, I detoured to the kitchen. When I joined Olivier in the den I saw that our guests were Paige, Tristan, and Wesley! “What are you doing here?” I stammered.

  “Not quite the greeting I was hoping for,” Wesley said as he flashed a sheepish smile.

  “How about we all take a seat?” Olivier offered as he motioned around the den. Paige and Tristan fell onto the loveseat. There was only the couch left to pick from. With eyes locked on the other and extremely stiff carriages, Wesley and Olivier each took a seat at opposing ends, resting an arm across the back. They had to be joking! There was absolutely no way I was going to sit between them. Everyone’s eyes were now trained on me, waiting to see what I was going to do. Agitated by the men and the fact that Paige and Tristan were enjoying the discomfiting show playing out before them, I marched out of the room.

  Someone made to follow me so I shouted back. “You stay right there! No one thought about my needs before so no need to start now. I can take care of myself.” I grabbed a chair from the kitchen, brought it back to the den, positioned it across from the couch, and slammed it down before straddling it backwards so I could rest my arms and chin on its back.

  Both Olivier and Wesley opened their mouths to, I’m sure, apologize, but I stopped them with a finger. “No, you can just swallow that because it means nothing. Before we get into whatever the rest of you seem to be aware of, let’s just get one cotton picking thing straight here. We,” I moved my arm in a circle motioning between all of us, “are all on the same team. We,” now I motioned between Olivier, Wesley, and myself, “will not be distracted by the dramatic triangle we’ve got going on now when we,” again everyone, “should be working out our next moves. You two,” I fixed them both with a fierce, penetrating stare, “you two, will cease your petty peacocking for my benefit. I do not find it endearing or attractive. Is that clear?” They both nodded slowly, each pulling their arm back into thei
r lap.

  “You know I always thought Charlotte was the easy going one of the bunch,” Tristan observed. “It seems as though maybe we’ve all underestimated you.” In my peripheral I saw him giving me an appraising once over.

  Paige laughed openly. “Oh, not me! I always knew this stronger Charlotte was lurking under the surface, otherwise I don’t think she’d have survived this long. I gotta say, I like her. So you hear that fellas?” she addressed Olivier and Wesley. “Pack your shit away and let’s get down to business.”

  “Nope, we aren’t digging in just yet!” I hated that I couldn’t trust the faces of my friends. “Considering we’ve all been victims to a little mind wipe, manipulation, or alteration, we need to start being quite a bit smarter than we have been.”

  Olivier was the only one who seemed to have an idea of what I was getting at. “What did you have in mind, carissime?” Wesley winced at the familiarity as Olivier, I’m sure, intended.

  “Enough, Olivier!” I reprimanded him. I wasn’t going to stand for the people I love most purposely hurting each other in show of one up manship. “Currently a test, intimate details that we grill each other on until we are all satisfied the person behind the face is who they appear to be. After that we need a code phrase or word or something so we can easily identify each other with going forward. My only concern is could Celinda read Tristan or Wesley to get to the information. Olivier?”

  Not readily answering me, Olivier thoughtfully reviewed my suggestions and question. “If she gets them alone and is able to search their eyes, she might be able to see it. I can help them hide it though, if they’re willing to let me.”

  It was as though Olivier and I were just talking amongst ourselves. So I was a little surprised when Wesley’s wary voice joined in. “How so, Cheval?”

  “Well, Breaux, I’ll answer that once everyone is satisfactorily identified.” Olivier never took his eyes from mine as he answered Wesley. When Olivier was done I gave him a disappointed scowl for his rudeness.