by D W Marshall
No one is in the front room when we walk inside. I know my parents are home. They’re always home, or close to it. I want to change clothes quickly, but I have to make sure my family knows there is a strange man sitting in the kitchen—a strange man with skin the color of cream.
I knock on my parent’s door. “Hey, I’m back. I wanted to let you know I brought a friend home.” I say through the door, waiting for a response. The door swings open, and I am face-to-face with my father. “Hi, Daddy. He’s a male friend.” I stumble over my words. The way Daddy is looking at me, I know I need to add more information. “Actually, he’s more my trainer. Can you come meet him really quick?” I can see the skepticism in my father’s eyes, but he calls for my mom and they both follow me to the kitchen.
Niko stands when we walk into the kitchen. “Mr. and Mrs. Alexander, it is so nice to meet you. My name is Nikolai Andres, but my friends call me Niko.” He extends his hand out to Daddy.
They shake hands, but I can see from the twitch in Daddy’s jaw that he isn’t happy that Niko is standing in their kitchen. “Nice to meet you,” my parents say. They take a seat at the table, and Niko and I follow. I’m so sweaty, and all I want to do is change clothes, but this is my mistake. I was so excited about any extra time I could get with Niko that I sped head-first into introductions with my folks. And of course, Niko being ever confident, didn’t hesitate. Daddy begins his line of questioning.
“So how do you know my daughter again?”
Niko clears his throat. “We met through a mutual acquaintance. Thomas.”
My parents both relax and smiles cross their faces. It stuns me to really see the pedestal they have Thomas placed on. “You’re friends with her fiancé,” my mother says as relief floods her face. For simple beach folk, they sure seem all about appearances.
“Friends is a stretch.” Niko does an amazing job of keeping his voice light, not revealing his disdain for Thomas through his words. “We run in the same circle. I’m a trainer down at Milo’s.”
My father’s eyebrows raise, and he smiles. “I haven’t been there in a few years. How is ol’ Milo?”
A warm smile warms Niko’s face. “Milo is well, still moves like a young man and swears he can take all of us in a three rounder.”
Niko and my dad laugh. “Don’t underestimate him,” Dad says.
“I never do.” His hands raise in mock defeat. And I think back to the sweet tiny man that greeted us at the front desk.
Dad sits back in his chair. The familiarity of Milo’s relaxes him where Niko is concerned.
“So, what kind of training are you giving our daughter?” my mother asks.
I chime in. “Boxing, self-defense. After what happened, I thought it might be a good idea. It’s exhausting but necessary.”
My parents exchange glances. “And, Thomas is okay with this training?” Daddy asks. “I’m sure there are female trainers down at Milo’s,” he adds.
The sigh escapes me before I can stop it. My parents aren’t fooling anyone with their smiles. They are not happy with Niko being here for one second. I know it, and they know I know it. But, they are being polite. “I am a grown person. So that means I don’t belong to Thomas, or anyone. I am free to choose who to train with.” What I don’t say is that Thomas and I broke up. There’s plenty of time for me to tell them the news, preferably not in the presence of someone they just met.
“Guys, can you keep Niko company? I’m gonna go change. We’re going for a run on the beach. Conditioning,” I say and roll my eyes implying that the activity is the last thing I want to do, when in reality, I need to get Niko out of here. “Be right back,” I say to Niko with a look loaded with apologies for leaving him alone with my folks.
I run back to my room in a panic. My parents are nosey with their sweet smiles and island hospitality. I grab a damp towel and wipe my face, thankful that I wasn't wearing any makeup. I redo my bun, towel dry, reapply deodorant, and throw on workout clothes and sneakers. I jog into the kitchen and sure enough, they are giving him the full-blown how many questions can we squeeze in before Whitney returns. I’m not angry with them for this. If my daughter was kidnapped, I’d question any stranger that she is newly acquainted with, especially one of Niko’s formidable size. But, I know some of their questions are more about their misplaced allegiance to Thomas.
“Let’s go,” I say.
They all rise. “How long will you be gone?” Daddy asks.
I roll my eyes before I can stop myself. “Daddy,” I whine and let out a breath. I have to remember my family suffered my kidnapping too. “We’re going running right down the street at the beach. We’ll probably grab food and walk back. If you get worried, call me, or come workout with us,” I offer, but only because I know my dad’s theory about running. He always says, if you see me running, you better start running too, cause something bad is coming.
“I’ll pass on that, but keep your phone on.” Daddy takes an authoritative stance, and he is nearly as big as Niko. He shakes Niko’s hand. “There’s a lot of evil in this world, Niko. Remember that when you’re training my baby.”
Niko smiles. “Yes, sir.” He turns and shakes my mother’s hand, and we head out the door.
“That was intense,” Niko says when we hit the sidewalk. We don’t run, we walk. In fact, if Niko broke out into a run I would throw something at him. I am dying of hunger and a story about us training was my only way to get us out of the house. I have no plans of getting my heart rate above a medium tempo.
“Sorry about that. Sometimes I forget that I don’t live alone. They mean well.”
Niko smirks. “They love you.”
All I can do is smile because he’s right about that. We walk in silence until we reach the beach and stop at the first burger place we find. “I’m so hungry right now, I think my body might be eating itself.” I bend forward and hold my grumbling belly.
“You are theatrical, aren’t you?”
I smack his arm playfully. “Did you just call me a drama queen?”
“Absolutely not,” he replies in a sarcastic tone.
He orders from the menu. The only thing they serve is burgers and fries, that’s it. But their food is known on the island.
“Two burgers, two fries—” Niko says.
“Oh, and a vanilla shake,” I add to the order.
“A vanilla shake and a chocolate shake.” Niko smiles, and I shake my head. I can feel my cheeks warm. His flirting takes my mind off my hunger long enough for the food to arrive.
We find a seat at a table; the sun is going down, and the view is spectacular.
“So, what are you going to say to your folks?”
I plant my face into my hands, before I say, “I don’t know.”
He laughs at me and says, “The truth works really well. I’d start with that.”
“You’re teasing me. You have no idea the pedestal my mom and dad have Thomas on.”
He takes a monster bite of his burger. “Sounds like it’s time for him to be knocked off that pedestal.”
I know that he’s right. But to do that means that I have to admit the awful person that he has become, which is a fine way to knock him down, but to admit that is monumentally embarrassing for me. How do you tell your parents the man you thought you loved, the man they adore, wanted to turn you into a prostitute? My dad will probably kill him.
We eat in silence, and my belly is grateful for every bite. Every few minutes, I take a glance at Niko and find him smiling at me.
“I’m moving to London,” I blurt out.
Niko’s face bares his surprise before he can cover it. “Is that so?”
I nod. “Well, I think so. I emailed the school in London that I should be at right now. I’m waiting to see if they will agree to take me back.”
Niko smiles at me. “That sounds amazing. I love London; I’m sure they’ll take you back. When would you start?”
I chew a bite of my burger. “Not until the fall, so we have plenty of t
ime to train. I mean, if you still want to do that.” I look down.
“That’s plenty of time to get you ready,” he says. I stare into his blue eyes. He really is a beautiful man.
He reaches across the small table and swipes his finger on the side of my mouth. “You had a little mustard,” he says and wipes his fingers on his napkin. The touch does something to me inside. Butterflies thrash around my abdomen, giving me goosebumps, and I know I’m blushing.
“What exactly will I be ready for?” I ask, not taking my eyes from his.
“Anything.”
Oh, good lord. This man makes my head dizzy. If he leaned forward and kissed me, I don’t think I would stop him, even though I know I should.
“I’d better get you home. Your dad seems like the type of man whose good side I need to stay on.”
I laugh at that thought. We begin the walk back and talk about training. My reaction to Niko slipping his hand into mine, surprises me. I do nothing. I allow it. I crave it in the deepest parts of my being, and it is more natural than I could have ever guessed it could be.
Hand in hand, we deliberately take slow steps back to the house.
He discusses with me the plans he has to take me through all the paces—strengthening, conditioning, boxing, defensive techniques, including weapons. When Niko is done with me, I will be far more difficult to kidnap.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you?” I ask when we are halfway to my house.
Niko stops and turns to me. His blue eyes are like staring into a deep ocean. “I will consider myself paid in full when you can defend yourself enough that I don’t have to worry about you so much.”
I blush. “You act like you’re sitting at home worrying for my safety on the daily.” I look down at our feet, both in sneakers without running a step.
“Something like that,” he says, making my head snap up and look at him.
My head swims in the moment. The sun kisses my skin, the sky is dark blue and cloudless, the sea air cools me with its intermittent breeze, and I’m standing hand in hand with this man who stares at me like I am something special, someone to be protected and worried about. He asks me for nothing in return.
“Then I’m just gonna have to work harder. I don’t want worry lines to mar that beautiful face of yours.”
Niko laughs lightly at my compliment. We turn and continue our walk to my house. If I could be honest with him and myself, I’d walk past the house and make my time with him last. But this will have to do for now.
When we arrive at my front door, neither of us makes a move. When the silence is too much, and we play bashful and shy with one another long enough, Niko kisses me on the cheek and walks away. I watch him climb into his truck and then I walk into my house.
Chapter 21
Whitney
“Have you lost your damn mind bringing a stranger into our home? Daddy’s voice booms at me before I close the door.
I roll my eyes at him. “Calm down, Daddy. He isn’t a stranger to me, and I told you we are just friends.” I lean against the door. My father is all about how things look to other people, so I can’t leave in the middle of whatever this is, but I really want to.
“It isn’t proper, Whitney.” He points to the couch, and I take a seat where he’s pointing.
“Because he’s white? I didn’t figure you for a racist.” I stare at him.
“What do I care if the boy is white? Hell, my grandmother is white and you know that. He could be purple for all I care. What I do care about is you disgracing yourself.” He takes a couple of breaths. “An engaged woman shouldn’t be spending time alone with a single man.”
He’s huffing mad.
“I spoke to Milo and he said you and this Niko character were awfully chummy at the gym. He said if he didn’t know you were with Thomas, he’d have thought you were with this fellow.”
What? It’s my turn to be angry.
“So, you’re checking up on me now, Daddy? How dare you?”
I stand up from the couch just as Mom comes into the living room. I’m done with all of this.
No, done isn’t a strong enough word. I’m exhausted. “You know what? Maybe I don’t want to be engaged. Thomas and I broke up earlier today.” I just put it out there, dropping the news like a bomb. Why keep pretending? They don’t have to know the why’s, not right now—maybe not ever. They need to know it’s over, and if they keep after me about how amazing Thomas is, I’ll leave.
It takes everything I have to look up at my parents and their faces are a mask of disappointment. How could I be so stupid? Is written all over Daddy’s face.
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Did you leave your good sense at that place you were taken to?” Daddy asks.
His words burn me.
I gasp audibly and so does my mother.
Daddy is never mean to me—protective, but never mean. I want so badly to tell him what a monster Thomas has become, perhaps has always been. But the admission is shameful on a cellular level. What if my parents see me that way too? Like I wanted to do those things, like I wanted to stay. I know people want to ask, I can see it in their eyes.
Why did you stay, Whit?
Why did you come out of there looking so pampered?
Where are the bruises? Shouldn’t you have bruises?
If only people could understand that not all abuse and suffering is visible.
I smirk. The sound that escapes my lips is sarcastic and disrespectful to my folks. I take a cue from Niko, he is the best smirker.
“Wow, whatever, guys,” I say, so mad I can’t begin to get into a lengthy conversation. I’m crying before I make it to my room. I think my dad may have hurt me just as much as Thomas.
I check my email. Nothing from London. Hell, maybe I should just move there now. I can go to the admissions office in person. There is nothing for me here. In London, I can get a fresh start without the looks. A plan starts forming in my head. Then I remember my training; I remember Niko. Suddenly training with him becomes important. If I can protect myself against some of the evil in the world, wouldn’t I be a more confident person?
My phone rings. It’s Chalice. “Hey, girl,” I say into the phone.
“Hey, you good?” she asks, and I can hear it in her voice. Mom called in reinforcements.
“My mom called you?” I roll my eyes, an action that is now more common on my face than tears streaming.
Before she can answer, I get a text from Amaris.
Amaris: Girl, your mom just texted me and said you and Thomas broke up? What’s going on? You okay?
We did, and I’m fine. I reply.
“You wanna go grab a drink and talk?” Chalice asks.
“Not tonight,” I say. “Maybe we can head to the shops this weekend. Some retail therapy sounds good.”
“Perfect. Call me if you need anything,” she says, and we hang up.
This is so exhausting. I wonder how my chamber sisters are holding up. The last time I spoke to anyone of them it was with Flame, I mean Vivian. When we spoke, things were better with Thomas. Things were good. But then I’d only been home about a week. So much has changed. My bones ache and a heaviness engulfs my body. With what little energy I have I climb onto my bed, grab my pillow and pull it into my chest and weep softly.
I wake to a knock on my door. It’s now dark outside.
“Come in,” I say, thinking it’s probably Chalis. I wouldn’t be surprised if my mother and father don’t have the entire island come to see if I’m okay, and check in to make sure that I haven’t actually lost my mind.
“Your dad called me,” Thomas says and crosses into my room.
I shoot up in my bed. My instinct to scream is strong. “What in the actual fuck are you doing here, Thomas?”
He takes cautious steps toward me. “I told you, Whit. Your folks called me.”
My body tenses as he nears. I pop up from my bed and open the distance he is trying to close, but my room isn’t that big. “I
want you to leave, Thomas. Now.”
Who the hell does he think he is? He really didn’t get the message earlier today that it was over? I put my hands up and he stops in his tracks.
“Don’t be this way, baby. I fucked up. I get it now. I’m sorry. Don’t I deserve a second chance?”
He is so full of shit that I nearly erupt in laughter. Thomas is nuts if he thinks he deserves anything from me. I pick up my cell phone and press the number for home. I can hear the phone ringing throughout my house. Daddy’s voice breaks through my phone.
“Can you please come to my room?” I say and hang up.
Both Daddy and Mom open my door and walk in, making the tight space seem even smaller.
“What’s the problem?” Daddy asks. His big hopeful smile on his face angers me.
I cross my arms over my chest. “This is wrong. I told you we broke up. But, instead of asking why, you decide to invite the man I broke up with into my room. You have to check with me first. I have all the rights here. Especially after everything I went through. If you love this piece of shit so much, you guys marry him!” I yell at my folks.
“Whitney, watch your mouth. Thomas is a fine young man. He is respected within our community. You would do well to marry someone like him,” Mom says.
