Hundreds

by Pepper Winters

  Either way, I would survive because I’d finally made that choice to pick living over dying. I’d finally reached the pinnacle where I was ready to say fuck you to my past and hello to my future.

  I’m going to talk to him, No One. After so much silence, I have so many questions. If I ask, I’m sure he’ll answer.

  Somehow, a layer of judgment fell over me. As if No One wasn’t so sure—as if my imaginary saviour doubted my newfound conviction that Elder wasn’t just another monster.

  I’d never felt anything but soothing support before. It unsettled me to feel myself at war.

  If I asked Elder what he intended to do with me, I had no doubt he would tell me the truth. Or at least—his version of the truth.

  But he never answered your previous question.

  I paused, biting my bottom lip.

  That was true.

  He’d rocked and let me hit him, but he’d never given me a reply. No matter how many times I’d asked.

  Where were you two years ago?

  My shoulders hunched.

  I should never have asked that. It was a terrible question because it wasn’t his responsibility. How could I dump that guilt on him? It wasn’t like he knew me then. I was nobody to him just like he was nobody to me. I couldn’t blame him for what’d happened because none of this was his fault.

  Where were you two years ago?

  His answer didn’t matter.

  Not anymore. Not now, when I was more human than animal—able to analyse and ponder rather than rely entirely on fight or flight.

  Sighing heavily, I scrawled:

  His whereabouts two years is irrelevant. I was living my life, and he was living his. I can’t hate him because he didn’t stop Alrik from buying me. The pain I suffered is mine, not his. Just like his tragedies that I couldn’t prevent are his.

  It was a relief to let go of things I’d bottled inside. I’d been so angry with Elder. I’d held him accountable for things he hadn’t done. I’d hated him for playing his cello. I’d fought him when he encouraged me to talk. I’d refused to dress. I’d punished him until he’d snapped.

  Those weren’t excuses for his behaviour.

  They were just facts.

  And I refused to be so self-absorbed anymore.

  I have to apologise.

  A part of me rolled its eyes.

  You seriously want to apologise to the man who took you without consent?

  Tossing my notepad and pen onto the bed, I gathered the white robe draped over the sheets and shrugged it on. This time, I didn’t let thoughts of claustrophobia take away the warmth of clothing cloaking me.

  From now on, I was normal. And normal girls wore clothing.

  Elder might’ve taken me without consent, but by doing so, he’d shown me a horizon of courage hidden above the fractured ceiling of my mind.

  Apologising to him, dressing in public, and thanking him for his hospitality were the right things to do. Everything else—the lingering glances, the tummy-fluttering kisses, the tear-invoking cello—could be worked through now that I was in a healthier place.

  My note to No One lay discarded on the bed, and I had no desire to finish it. I needed to learn how to survive without a silent pen pal as my crutch.

  Padding to the bathroom, I inspected my reflection.

  For no sleep, I didn’t look too bad. Only slight shadows under my eyes and tangled hair from running hands through it when my thoughts gave me a headache.

  Yesterday, I’d still been Pimlico.

  Tonight, I would try to be more Tasmin.

  Despite what’d happened between us—or perhaps because of it—I was stronger and more alive since I’d woken on the Phantom and in Elder’s realm.

  I turned on the hot water, slipped from the robe, and stepped into the shower.

  As soapy bubbles decorated my skin, I made the choice to stop my past dictating my future. The minute I was clean, I would head to the top deck, seek Elder out, and see where this new beginning would take us.

  Chapter Three

  ______________________________

  Elder

  “SIR?”

  Selix entered my quarters.

  I’d spent most of the day finishing the sketches for Alrik’s yacht. Just because he was dead didn’t mean I wouldn’t complete his paid-for vessel. I always upheld my end of the business transactions. However, it just meant this new creation would find a different owner.

  I put down my pencil and cricked my neck. “Yes?”

  “She just appeared on deck. I know you didn’t ask for news but thought you’d want to know.”

  I frowned. I wasn’t entirely sure why he thought I’d want to know. As far as he was concerned, today was just another day, and nothing had happened. He didn’t know what I’d done…does he?

  Standing, I narrowed my eyes at my right-hand man and friend. “She can be on deck if she wishes.” We’d sailed leisurely all afternoon. There was no bad weather on the horizon like the storm we’d endured together. Pim could do whatever she damn well wanted while I stayed the hell away.

  “Of course.” Selix clasped his hands in front of him, his long hair untethered and inky over his shoulders. “Just thought I’d update you. Also, I took the liberty of telling the kitchen to serve a light dinner.”

  My temper spiked. “Did I say I was hungry?”

  Selix smirked, knowing he’d overstepped but not giving a shit. “No, but you haven’t eaten. And, according to the maid, she hasn’t eaten either.”

  My hands curled at the thought of Pim distraught and sobbing—too broken to even eat after the fucked-up thing I’d done. “Someone needs to ensure she’s eating. She’s too damn skinny to skip meals.”

  “She refused breakfast and lunch, but now, she’s out of her room. It’s a good opportunity to tell her to eat yourself.”

  “I’m not her keeper.”

  “No, but you’ve taken it upon yourself to be something. Fuck if I know what it is.” His forehead scrunched. “Not that it’s any of my business.” He backed from my office, clutching the door knob. “The chef will have dinner ready soon. Whether or not you decide to eat, I’ll make sure the girl has something.”

  Fingernails dug into my palms as I curled my hands. “You’re a lot of things, Selix, but this is a first for you.”

  “First of what?”

  “Fucking meddling.”

  His lips twitched. “You should know by now I can’t help what I see. We both fought to stay alive. And now, she’s doing the same. Until you kick her off the Phantom, I’ll continue to monitor her to keep both you and her safe.”

  I read between the lines.

  He’d be respectful of Pim as long as she didn’t try to hurt me—even though she had every right to after I’d forced myself on her. He’d made a vow to protect me, just like I had him. Only, he preferred to stay slightly in my shadow rather than become full partner—even though I’d offered him half of everything for his loyalty.

  “This isn’t your fight, Selix.”

  “If you’re in the ring, then yes, it is.”

  “Need I remind you that you once tried to kill me? I think I prefer that side of you.”

  He chuckled, closing the door as he said, “That was before I knew you. Let’s hope the girl gets to know you too, so I don’t have to hurt her.”

  He didn’t give me a chance to reply.

  My veiled insinuations about our war on the streets hung over me. We’d tried to kill each other multiple times until we transformed our mutual dislike into a brotherhood. He was there when the evil from my past found me—like they always did. He was there when I stood over a corpse, dreading the scent of death but glad it was my enemy and not me bleeding out. He was there when I told him about the faction that would never stop hunting me and my goal to exterminate them before they could exterminate me.

  The click of the door switched my thoughts from past to present.

  I shook my head free from life-threatening issues and focused
on heart-ripping ones instead. I’d lived with the shadow of my death chasing me for years. Pim was still new to me and I’d already destroyed her.

  Was she okay? Why hadn’t she eaten? Had I ruined her that much? If she’d been suicidal before, had I just made it ten times fucking worse?

  The thought of undoing everything I’d tried to achieve gutted me. My stomach growled as apprehension stole the rest of my depleted energy.

  Selix was right about one thing. I was hungry and needed food before I could fix what I’d fucked up.

  Leaving my sketches, I stalked across the room and collected my cello. I should’ve put it away safely, but I couldn’t touch it all morning because every time I did, all I could think about was Pim crying.

  With almost twenty-four hours separating what’d happened and now, my room wasn’t as intimate with mismatched feelings. I could tolerate putting it away. Lifting the heavy instrument, I plucked the bow off the chair and headed to the special padded box in the wardrobe.

  My fingers itched to play, but I ignored them.

  If I gave in, I’d lose myself to hours of music until midnight replaced early evening.

  Once I’d locked the cello inside its case, I shrugged into a fresh black t-shirt and left my room.

  Pim was on deck. Deck meant neutral territory with multiple staff keeping boundaries in place. I would prefer not to see her, but I had to man the fuck up and apologise. Breaking bread together would give us a reason to meet. And if she hated my guts, then I’d think on my feet and offer an alternative to her staying with me.

  Obsession or no obsession.

  I wouldn’t destroy Pim just to get what I needed.

  I’d survived this long without slipping.

  I’d do whatever it took to continue.

  Chapter Four

  ______________________________

  Pimlico

  MY HEART SAW him before my eyes did.

  Somehow, the organ responsible for keeping me alive in the worst of tragedies had reprogramed itself to his frequency. I was in better sanctuaries now, yet he still made my skin break out with goosebumps.

  I knew the moment he was close even though I couldn’t see or hear him.

  I knew he saw me by the way my scalp prickled beneath his attention.

  And I knew his sole purpose for being here was because of me, just like my sole purpose of being there was for him.

  We needed to clear the air before I drove myself crazy.

  He’d taken something from me that I wasn’t prepared to give. But in doing so, he’d unlocked something I wasn’t strong enough to tap into. I owed him retribution and thanks.

  I just didn’t know which would come first.

  Soundless feet whispered with hesitation as he inched closer.

  He moved slowly as if afraid I’d bolt if he approached too fast.

  Where would I run? How far could I swim in the vast unending ocean before he scooped me from the salty brine and took yet another piece of me?

  No, running wasn’t an option anymore—even if the sea didn’t prevent such a thing.

  I’ll stay and fight.

  My shoulders tensed with conviction, ready and willing to go to war.

  Step by silent step, his shadow crept across the polished wooden deck until he pulled to a stop beside me at the stern.

  The sun sank below the horizon, turning from golden orb to cut-in-half penny—sliced by the ocean and spilling its warm halo. The twinkle of light on the dark sea danced with watery rays as if showing a treasure map and promising wealth beneath.

  My bones ached with the pressure of his presence. His gaze remained locked on the horizon, his face painted in burnt sienna and bronze.

  My fingers latched tighter around the railing, doing my best to control the heightened awareness pinpricking me until I bled from tiny holes.

  I didn’t know how much time passed—two minutes or twenty—but finally, he murmured while still staring at the sky, “I’m sorry, Pimlico.”

  Instantly, my head hung as if a thousand regrets pulled me down. I didn’t realise how much I needed to hear that. To know he understood something Alrik never did: that there were boundaries and lines and stepping over them was never okay. Elder recognised he’d bulldozed past them but was courteous enough to make amends.

  With three words, he’d shown me everything I needed to prove he wasn’t like the men who had sold and bought me. He wasn’t a beast. He was human. And like all humans, he’d made a mistake.

  And I made a mistake by not talking to him. By not trusting him sooner. By not thanking him for his protection.

  The weight of guilt and remorse in his voice was what affected me the most. Not the apology but the depth of feeling behind it. No man or monster—no matter what they’d done—could ever be evil with that tuning fork of goodness in their tone.

  I swallowed hard as Elder placed his hand over mine on the railing. His fingers hovered tentatively, barely capturing, just offering his body heat and a roof to seek shelter beneath.

  “You asked me where I was two years ago.” He sighed softly. “You don’t talk to me for weeks, and then when you finally do, it’s a question that doesn’t have a right answer.”

  I half turned to face him. My lips parted to tell him he didn’t have to answer—that it was wrong of me to ask such things—but he didn’t stop.

  “Two years ago, I was in Dubai completing a business deal.”

  I jolted. Not because of the location of his work but because as much as I’d known he wasn’t at the QMB when I was up for auction, it still hurt to think he wasn’t there. I didn’t know what would’ve made me feel better. In the audience, hidden behind a nasty paper mache mask? Or halfway across the world, neither aware nor responsible for my wellbeing?

  I looped my thumb over his, our hands joining on the railing.

  I’m sorry.

  The apology echoed loudly in my head, but my mouth remained dry and quiet. Speech wasn’t something of ease anymore—even though I was capable. It wasn’t instinct to part my lips and verbalise. It would take time. Time to remember how to speak without fear. But time was a magical thing, and I finally trusted its power to fix what was wrong.

  Elder suddenly turned me around, pressing my back against the barrier. The sunset was forgotten the moment I stared into his tortured ebony eyes.

  I sucked in a breath at how quickly he’d manhandled me but didn’t try to get free. His body blocked me as his hands locked around the rail at my back.

  His gaze latched onto my mouth. His breathing quickened. “I know I shouldn’t, but I desperately want to kiss you again.”

  I froze as he made eye contact, his lips glistening from his tongue.

  My tummy tangled with vines at the thought of kissing him. Was kissing so soon after what had happened the right thing to do?

  Shouldn’t we talk first? Discuss what’d happened and decide if lust had a place once words had done their job?

  You spent two years silent. Why do you think words can solve anything when you haven’t wanted them up till now?

  My previous habits tried to trample on my new goals. Silence might’ve been my friend, but it might become my enemy now.

  I breathed harder, trying to decide how to shatter the glass ceiling I’d placed upon myself and be normal. To look at Elder as a man and not fear him for being one. To speak with authority while I drowned in confusion.

  Elder didn’t press into me or move away. The black desperation on his face matched the growing black hole inside me, sucking all reason, worry, and doubt away.

  Actions spoke louder than words. The damage between us from his actions needed to be cancelled out by the same motion.

  Words would come later.

  Taking a deep breath, I stood on my tiptoes. My hands soared to his shoulders. I licked my lips, deliberately positioning myself for a kiss. To take charge and willingly seek sexual connection instead of running from it.

  He froze, his eyes dancing over my face.
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  With nerves turning into fireflies in my belly, I slowly arched to kiss him.

  He didn’t bow to meet me. He stood tall, his chest rising and falling, his scent of incense strong and heady. He gave me the gift of decision all while keeping himself bound and snarling.

  His lips were so close. My healed tongue twinged slightly. I withdrew to test him and myself. To see if he would stand by and let me decide, after all.

  A breathless grunt escaped him as if I’d punched him in the chest not just swayed back a fraction. But he didn’t press or demand. He stayed the perfect statue; a gentleman crushed beneath desire.

  Desire for me.

  Desire I finally recognised was different to the desire Alrik had. Evil didn’t taint Elder’s desire. It was pure and full of emotional connection as well as physical. Emotions we hadn’t permitted but had morphed from nothing regardless.

  I swooped up and pressed my mouth to his.

  His grunt turned into a ragged groan.

  His lips were gentle and soft, unparted and waiting for instruction. Unlike before when he’d given me no choice, this time there was no contact apart from our lips.

  We both understood who was in charge, and by giving me control, it didn’t make him submissive. If anything, it made him more dominant. More powerful for giving me jurisdiction over him.

  Our lips pressed together innocently. But my God, they connected us so deeply.

  I opened slightly, inviting.

  He stiffened. His breath fluttering on my cheek from his rapid exhale.

  I licked him with the tip of my tongue. The tongue he’d healed and killed for.

  The railing shuddered behind me where he clutched it tight, taking his pent-up aggression out on his yacht rather than me.

  The simmering passion hidden just barely beneath his self-control let me share the kiss, direct the kiss. Placing my hand over his heart, I tilted my head and opened to him.