ã€ŠLost Boy (The Lonely #2)ã€‹


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    Chapter One

    Boston - September, 2009

    What catches my eye first?

    I want to say it¡¯s the full red lips, but it¡¯s the dead look in her eyes. I lick my lips, it¡¯s unconsciously done. I don¡¯t like doing things involuntarily, but I have an overwhelming desire and filthy want to hear her scream¡­ LOUD. I want to see the dead leave her eyes as they light up for me.

    My hands nearly leap at my buckle but I force them to stay. Everything is forced to remain motionless. Let her make the moves and reveal herself to me.

    She sits on the floor on her knees, arching her back perfectly. She is so well trained that even her reflex muscles are under her control. I don¡¯t like that. I like the dead look; she has no control over that.

    My gaze narrows, again something happening on its own. ¡°Were you forced to come?¡± I ask softly.

    She shakes her head, lowering her face slightly. She knows better than to answer me while looking at me. ¡°No sir.¡± Too perfect for me. I need her damage to be real.

    ¡°Do you like this, or is it something you have to do?¡±

    She licks her red lips, nods, and whispers with a soft accent ¡°I want it whether I like it or not, sir.¡±

    It¡¯s a good answer¡ªa great answer. Her enunciation is perfect. I can almost feel her answer across the dimly-lit room. It''s the first honest thing she has done in my presence.

    The fire crackles loudly, distracting us and making it warmer in the room. My pants are constricting but I don¡¯t want to rush it.

    ¡°Touch the railing at the top of the bed; don¡¯t move your hands.¡±

    She jumps up, stands on her tiptoes, and grips the railing. Her long, dark fingers curl around the wood, desperately textbook. Her skin is remarkable. She¡¯s pale for an African American, more mocha but still flawless. Her ass sticks out just the right amount. Just enough that when my belt hits it, I¡¯ll be able to see the red welts.

    I push her long, thick, caramel-colored hair to the side and trail a finger down her straight spine to the top of her ass crack. Her body is already trembling from maintaining the stance but she doesn¡¯t move at all. I lean in, brushing my lips against her neck. She¡¯s warm and smells of honey. Thoughts try to force their way into my mind. Thoughts I don¡¯t want. I want it to go exactly as I planned. It has to be the same routine, otherwise I can¡¯t do it. It won¡¯t free me if it¡¯s not perfect. But my body has needs that are normal things for a man, even though I¡¯m not a normal man. I lose the battle; she is too beautiful and I want it too badly.

    I just want to be free of the noise.

    I drop to my knees, no doubt scaring her. She''s here to lose the control, not the other way around. I run my face against her soft thigh, closing my eyes.

    I run my hands up her thighs, inserting a finger into her wet folds. I keep my eyes closed and imagine it¡¯s my cock sliding in and out of her. In that second, I slip from the rails of my plan and a thousand fleeting thoughts fill my mind. My hand pumps wildly. I feel like a conductor of a symphony. My eyes are closed, but I can feel the music of her body surrounding me. She¡¯s about to reach the crescendo, when I stop.

    I regain the control.

    My hand drops to my side. She¡¯s writhing. She doesn¡¯t know she¡¯s the one in control and I¡¯ve lost it. I can only hope I''ve bluffed well enough.

    I get back up, pulling the belt from my pants as I stand. Her head falls back when I make contact the first time. She cries out as the red welt forms across her skin. I reach out instinctively, running my fingertip along the ridge it¡¯s made in her skin. I¡¯m so far from my normal plan that I don¡¯t think I can get back on track. I¡¯m going in blindly, without a strategy. I whip until I almost orgasm and her legs nearly buckle. She takes it like a true champion of the forum.

    I¡¯m about to be generous with my fingers when I see a glistening trail down her inner thigh. Anger crosses my face as I step directly behind her and run a hand between her thighs, whispering into her ear, ¡°Did you orgasm before I told you to?¡±

    She whimpers. Her ass is raw and her lips are swollen. She is weak from standing with her hands in the air for so long, while on her tiptoes.

    I shove her down on the bed, undoing my pants all the way. My cock jumps at the excitement as I enter her. She¡¯s sopping wet. It¡¯s too much for us both. I push in too hard and too fast. She screams instantly, clenching around me, gripping me like a fist would.

    A sound escapes my lips. I hate that. I shove her down harder and fuck her harder until I¡¯m nearly blind with ecstasy. I finish and leave the room. I hate how weak she made me¡ªhow I let her overwhelm me.

    She was too perfect.

    I wanted to smear her lipstick with my cock; I had a plan.

    Instead, I pace the kitchen, waiting for her to leave. When I hear the door to the room squeak, I turn my back on that side of the house.

    ¡°Happy Christmas,¡± she says softly with her sweet English accent.

    The ding of the elevator makes me sick, but I force myself to get lost in the view of the city. The moving cars look like streams of light from the height I¡¯m at.

    My heart never raced the way I needed it to. I wasn¡¯t scared of her fragility or breaking her.

    My orgasm never took it all away.

    I don¡¯t feel empty of it. It¡¯s still there, filling me up. The fuzzy white noise that cuts me off from my body and makes it so I can''t feel anything. My legs and arms get thick with it, detached.

    I run a hand along the scar on my arm, remembering how I believed that I could bleed it out of me. The cut was ecstasy but the trickle of it leaving my body was more than I needed. It was perfection. The thickness left with the blood.

    I shake my head, old habits. As much as I fucking hate her, Jane was right, I need the new habits. The kinds that make it feel like the thickness is leaving without anyone coming so close to death. I shudder at the thought of the places they''ll put you, when they think you long for death. I don¡¯t hate it as much as I hate that it was Jane who showed me how to do it.

    I push away the thought and pull my phone from my pocket, sending a text.

    ¡®I need to blow off steam.¡¯

    ¡®B there in 2¡¯

    I sigh, ¡®Stuart, be is a word, B is a letter. Can you see the difference or have I hit you in the head too many times?¡¯

    ¡®LOL, don¡¯t be a dick. I¡¯ll c u in 2!¡¯

    I shudder and walk to the shower. I clean and change as fast as possible. When I have it inside of me, everything is intense and needs to be immediate. I strip the room and pack the bag. Leaving the apartment, I decide to take the stairs. It''s best to not poke the things that live inside of me with confinement, not when I am already too close to losing it.

    The annoying man at the front desk greets me in the lobby, ¡°Good evening, Sir.¡±

    I ignore him and storm through the doors. When I get to the Tahoe, Stuart opens the back door giving me an odd look, ¡°You alright?¡±

    I shake my head, walking around him and climb in the front passenger seat, ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± I toss the bag in the back seat.

    He nods and closes the door. He glances at me when he climbs in, ¡°You hired me to be your driver.¡±

    I give him a smirk, ¡°So drive.¡±

    He laughs, ¡°To the gym?¡±

    I nod, ¡°I need to stop at the office first.¡±

    He knows why. He doesn¡¯t need to talk about it. He doesn¡¯t need me to admit anything. I love that about him.

    When you''re crazy, people always want you to admit it, as if owning up to seeing the giant elephant in the room will make it go away.

    Stuart is one of the few people in my world that needs nothing from me, but the room to let our elephants roam free, unidentified.

    The first time I met him he was paying people to beat the hell out of him; he was just past childhood. Stuart has a pain tolerance like no one. He is a beast for agony and suffering. His passion for pain is worse than my own. He never wants to hurt others though, except in a fight. His pain is his own and he doesn¡¯t need to take anyone down with him.

    He is the only person in the whole world I admire. I wish I could let others hurt me and not feel the need to hurt them too.

    Jane has theories about why I don¡¯t give a shit.

    I glance out the window, muttering, ¡°The weather is turning to hell. Winter in Boston is not my favorite, but someone has to work I guess.¡±

    ¡°Your mom and dad gone?¡±

    I nod, ¡°They are.¡±

    ¡°My goal in life is to be a snowbird like them. Dang, that¡¯s where it¡¯s at.¡±

    I smile, looking over at him, ¡°One day. Me and you, snowbirds.¡±

    He nudges my shoulder, ¡°Bachelors till we die, bro!¡±

    I laugh as he pulls into the office parking lot. It''s a sad reality Stuart and I could never bring another person into our room filled with bad things.

    I nod, "Be back in two minutes," and jump out, grabbing the bag to run inside. The incinerator of the older building makes fast work of the bag and its filthy contents.

    My legs try to leave the building but my brain thinks ¡®just check¡¯¡­ my brain is a workaholic. It believes that if I stuff myself into work, I don¡¯t have to look at anything inside of me. My brain is a smart guy.

    I switch the light on in my office and notice a parcel on my desk. I cut it open, not paying attention until I see the crimson droplets landing on the box. Reaching for a tissue, more droplets fall onto my papers.

    ¡°Shit.¡±

    I wrap my finger with tissues and start blotting up the blood from the splotches on one of the pieces of paper.

    Glancing casually at the paper, I see it. Instantly, my mouth goes completely dry. I can¡¯t feel my feet. I¡¯m scared to touch the paper or the words on it¡ªthe names. The blood has landed directly on her name.

    Is it real?

    Is it a hallucination?

    I shudder as I back away, just one step. Just the one single step I need to get control of my heart. Dizziness and memories wrestle over control. The dizziness wins, I take a knee. I see her there, her small face looking at mine. Her dead eyes.

    God help me, the hallucinations are back. I''m seeing it again. I shake my head and take deep breaths. It''s then I realize, I have never seen the name combined the way it is. Perhaps it is not a hallucination. Either way, I can¡¯t get my breath. It¡¯s impossible, and yet, so unlikely it has to be real. There can¡¯t possibly be anyone named Emalyn Spicer in the whole world, and if there were, her name would not land on my desk where I would bleed upon it.

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    When the dizziness is finished with me, the memories take over.

    In the blinding light from the sun, I could barely make her out. The light hit the small crack I stared out of with white heat. The hole was hot, too hot but I could see the girl and Em. The lady had made them play together, forcing Em. Em had cried and not wanted to play with the dolls, not like the dead-eyed girl who danced them along. I think she only saw what she wanted to. She didn¡¯t see me, not right away.

    The dirt stains on Em''s legs were something I¡¯d never seen before. If Emalyn hated anything, it was being dirty. She hated everything that wasn¡¯t shopping or playing dolls. She was a little princess. I had hated that about her. Then, sweating and exhausted, I didn¡¯t hate her anymore. I kept making myself take mental images of her doing everything, so it would be the last thing I saw when I died. I could replay it as the man strangled me or beat me again.

    I looked down at the drawings on the wall of the concrete hole. Triangles, trees, and people were drawn like murals on the circular walls. Triangles seemed to be the constant. The drawings got better as they got higher up the walls but the triangles were still there.

    A scream brought my attention back out of the hole. I scrambled in the dirt to the edge of the hole and peeked through the tiny crack, where the hot air came in.

    I panicked when I saw her tiny knees buckle under the swinging hand.

    Fury built inside of me as I watched though the slit of light as her small body vibrated from each strike.

    The foot of the angry, shouting woman swung back but a shout stopped it¡­froze it mid-air, hovering over my sister, Emalyn''s crouched body.

    ¡°NO!¡± the man shouted and walked toward Em. He reached his hands down, lifting her sobbing face to his. He kissed her cheek and took her hand in his, pulling her to her filth-stained feet. She struggled against the kiss and the hands. Her face was still so alive and scared, compared to the other girl who sat in the corner. It made me sick and panicked and weak. I pushed on the lid but it didn¡¯t budge.

    The knees of the girl in the corner pulled in as Em screamed. I could see the feet of her Barbies touching down on the dirty ground.

    When the screaming got worse the Barbies dropped.

    My fury returned with the screams of my sister. I clawed at the hole as the hands of the other girl covered her ears. The girl screaming was my sister, but I couldn¡¯t see her anymore. She was fighting something I could imagine, but I slapped my head and forced the thoughts away.

    I reached my hand through the slit, "Help me!" I cried to the girl, but she held her hands over her ears and rocked back and forth.

    Something inside of me snapped. I pushed at the concrete and metal surrounding me. Blood dripped down my fingers as I pushed and clawed in a frenzy. I screamed for the girl to help me but I could see she had shut down. She started to rock harder, removing her hands only to touch the walls of the corner, as if checking to see if they were still there. She sat in the triangle, safe from everything else.

    I screamed and clawed until the girl stood. I hoped she was coming to help me, but she went in the door of the dirty house, leaving the Barbies in the dirt. The dead look in her eyes made contact with mine as she rounded the corner. Suddenly there was something in her eyes, something that didn¡¯t match the dead look that had been there all along. She looked scared.

    I swallowed and waited but she never came back, so I clawed until my fingers ripped and tore, and managed to move the metal lid enough.

    Frantic sobs left my lips and I gasped, dragging my body from the bleak hole.

    I kicked and squirmed until I was free, moving so fast I tripped trying to get to the house quick enough, but the gunshot stopped me. My feet skidded across the filthy floor. I paused, holding everything¡­waiting. I knew I was waiting for the sound of my sister. The unknown and the fear overwhelmed me. I ran for the screaming I knew didn¡¯t belong to Em.

    The narrow walls and rubbish everywhere made it hard for me to see them. My eyes wouldn¡¯t adjust from the blinding light of the hole. Finally reaching the room and the disaster that lie before me, I shook my head. It was involuntary. I shook, as if it would change the outcome. Her dirty legs lay on the bed behind his shaking, angry body. The angry man¡¯s fists came down on the other girl. Her dead eyes were back.

    Something caught my eyes. I turned, seeing the gun on the floor.

    I needed to save us. That was what a man did and I needed to be a man. I wavered for a second, not sure if I could, but the fists landing on the girl and the lifeless legs of my sister filled me with rage. It was hot like the white heat of the hole. It blinded me and made a sound inside of me like white noise on the radio.

    I picked up the gun; it was heavy and hard. I lifted it and pulled the trigger. I fired the shots and soon the only people standing were the girl and me. I didn¡¯t even see the woman come back into the room. She was just there and I shot her.

    The girl''s eyes were black and filled with fear.

    The resonating sound of the gun dropping echoed around us.

    My feet couldn¡¯t move fast enough. They took the steps my brain refused and my heart feared.

    I walked past the girl, touching the still-warm arm of my sister. My fingers bit into her skin but she didn¡¯t wake.

    I shook her and yet she slept. The crimson stain upon her chest was becoming larger with the movements I forced upon her. It seeped. That was the only word for it. It seeped.

    I shook her again, my eyes searched her tiny body for a breath. I pushed on her chest but the seeping got worse. I started shaking her, but there was nothing. She had left me, left to sleep with the angels and ride on a cloud. Free from the things that surrounded me. I couldn¡¯t forgive her for that.

    I screamed into the ceiling. The sound of it made the girl drop to the floor and curl into a ball after she crawled backwards for the corner, touching either side of it as I screamed and shouted at Em. There was nothing left of my sister. I didn¡¯t have a reaction for it. The pain was stuck in my seized-up heart. Everything was too big and too scary, and I had to be a man. A man that saved his little sister. A man that saved the day. A hero.

    Instead, I was a lost boy. I cried out for help like a child.

    I wanted to cry. The tears were there, but the girl with the dead eyes and the twitching head needed me. I could save her. I lifted my sister from the bed and slung her limp body over my shoulder. The weight of her was more than I expected. I looked at the sobbing girl and put my hand out for her to take.

    When her hand lifted into mine, I noticed the difference between us. The level of filth in her pores and nails was disturbing. Her hand shook with uncertainty and fear.

    I reached the extra inch she couldn¡¯t go and pulled her up and dragged her from the house. Emalyn got heavy on my shoulder, like she was trying to push me to the ground. I gripped her tightly, trying to get one foot in front of the other. Dragging the girl and carrying Em was too much. One of them had to go. I let go of the girl''s hand, taking one step in the dusty driveway before I realized I had chosen the wrong girl. My shoulders cried for release. I slumped to the ground, laying Em down on the dirt. I brushed her hair from her face, "I''ll be back, Em. I''m not leaving you. I''m getting help. I swear, I won''t leave you here."

    I let myself take in the seconds of her and me and everything that had gone wrong. I had done it all wrong. I almost couldn¡¯t turn back to the girl and look in her eyes, her swollen eyes.

    I ran a hand along Em''s peaceful face, "I¡¯ve gotta go, Em."

    I needed to save at least one of them. I left her there, in the dirt, swearing to myself I would be back for her. I put my hand out for the mess of the girl standing behind me, lost and dead inside. She took my hand again. I pulled her across the dusty ground for a long time. I didn¡¯t know where we were going, but I knew we needed people. There were no power lines and the driveway seemed like it went on forever.

    I turned into the field, hoping to arrive at a town. The girl''s legs gave out across the field; I turned and lifted her into my boyish arms. I carried her the rest of the way to the barn we found. My back was aching and my heart was hollow. I was gasping for air when I placed her down, stroking her hair as she lost control of the tiny hold she had. She stopped shaking and started bawling.

    ¡°I shot her,¡± she whispered.

    I didn¡¯t understand.

    She cried again, "I meant to shoot him but it hit her. I wanted her to stop screaming. I wanted him to stop hurting her."

    The girl had shot Em. I closed my eyes, containing the devil inside of me. I shook my head, ¡°It wasn¡¯t your fault.¡± It was though. I wanted to shake her and tell her Em was dead because of her. I wished that it had been her and Emalyn were the one alive. The wish made me sick but my mind couldn¡¯t stop it. Her delicate, malnourished, heaving body told me that the wish was a bad one. But I couldn¡¯t stop my brain from thinking it.

    Instead, I did what I thought I should, I hugged her. I wrapped myself around her.

    ¡°I sh-sh-shot h-h-h-her,¡± she sobbed.

    I would take the blame. I would take the darkness from her. ¡°I should have saved you both. It was my fault.¡±

    Her tiny, messy head twitched a no, ¡°My fault. I wanted him to stop. M-m-my fault.¡±

    I held her tightly, ¡°We need to go for help. Where are we?¡±

    She shook her head, refusing to open her eyes. I tried to stand but a scream came from her lips, like a natural-defense mechanism she had no control of.

    We stayed there for days, eating the fruit that had been left to go bad and drinking from the stream nearby. I held her and waited for her to fall asleep so I could go for help, but she was traumatized and every time I moved, she freaked out.

    I needed to find help but she was too scared to tell them what she had done. I would go first and explain. It wasn¡¯t her fault, it was mine. I failed them both.

    I closed my eyes, not meaning to, but I was exhausted. The throbbing in my fingers was the last thing I felt before I drifted off with her.

    I woke to darkness, panicking momentarily until I realized the small child next to me was still breathing. She whimpered in her sleep and curled away from me.

    I pulled myself away from her farther, sliding off of the hay and tiptoed out of the barn.

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    I looked at her one last time, ¡°I¡¯ll be back. I¡¯ll tell them it wasn¡¯t your fault,¡± I whispered and ran towards the lights I prayed were from a neighboring home.

    Chapter Two

    Clovis, New Mexico - January 2010

    ¡°The window¡¯s been replaced. Glare shouldn¡¯t get in the way of your peeping now.¡± he chuckles, but I can¡¯t laugh. I stand at the window of the building I bought and look in her window. It is a perfect viewpoint. I can see into her window perfectly but the glass on this building has a tint. She will never see me. Between the cameras we have set up and the view from the window, I will be able to watch her at all times.

    I look up at him and nod, ¡°Thanks.¡± He gives me a grin but all I have is a scowl, ¡°I don¡¯t want you here for this.¡±

    He crosses his arms, ¡°Ha! Fat chance you¡¯re gonna get me to leave you here like this. Not after the way I found you in the office last fall. I know what this girl does to you. I know what she means. I know what this all does to you.¡± He points a finger at me, knowing I hate it when people do that, ¡°We¡¯re a team.¡±

    I nod once. I¡¯m not in the mood to argue with him. My palms are sweating from the knowledge I¡¯ll be able to see her¡­tonight, all night. I''ve seen glimpses and watched her randomly but this will be us all night. She will be there in the morning and I will still be free of my sister¡¯s death.

    ¡°Eli, man, you gotta relax a bit. That look on your face is going to scare the ever-loving shit out of her when you do meet her. You get it every time you see her.¡±

    I take a breath, like Jane¡ªDr. Bradley said to when I¡¯m feeling tense, like I might hurt myself or someone else. The breath isn¡¯t helping but the view through the window does.

    I gulp when I see her hair. It¡¯s the same. The light hits it and I couldn¡¯t tell you my name if I had to. It''s so blonde and shiny now though. The color is the same but it''s clean. She is clean. She is real. She isn¡¯t an elephant in the room. She isn¡¯t a coping mechanism or any other ism¡­ I''m crazy but I didn¡¯t make her up. She may be a teenager but I can see the face of the child she was. I wonder if I look the same?

    She moves quickly; I see what she¡¯s doing. It hurts to watch her be like this. Something is wrong, she cleans when she''s scared. I remember the conditions of the house she lived in. She cleans because of that house. I know it.

    ¡°Fuck, she cleans fast, huh?¡±

    I ignore him. He understands a lot of things, but this kind of frenzy isn¡¯t one of them. Not this kind. His is different, probably worse.

    She is meticulous with her cleaning, it''s forensic. She doesn¡¯t allow any part of her body to come in contact with anything as she cleans; her hands do all the work. She doesn¡¯t lean or touch her silky hair. She does one thing, cleaning every surface.

    She straightens things in the room that could be a cell. She¡¯s thin, thinner than she should be. My jaw clenches. I want her now. I want her safe now. I want to take her away from it all. I want to save her, the way I promised I would.

    My hands try to shake, but I refuse to allow weakness in. Not here. There is one place for weakness, this isn¡¯t it.

    She is the opposite of the last time I saw her, and yet, she is the same. She is neat and straight and clean, but I can see the dirt and the stains. I know they¡¯re there to her. She sees them still. She won''t ever be free of them¡­not on her own. I have convinced Jane to save her, to free her.

    ¡°Did you tell them what we were doing?¡±

    I glance at Stuart and shake my head, ¡°The orphanage knows she¡¯s a Jane Doe. They know her name isn¡¯t Emalyn Spicer, obviously. They gave me the hair from her brush and a blood sample. They know she was one of the kids at the Spicer home and that she somehow made her way here. They believe me to be her benefactor. An idea Jane came up with. I am her benefactor and eventually when she is well enough, I will be able to have contact with her through a cell phone. It will be the first link to a family member she will have."

    Stuart gives me a funny look, ¡°You will be her family member?"

    I laugh, "No, but she might feel like I am."

    He nods, "You tell them about Emalyn?¡±

    I nod once. I don¡¯t want to talk about it. He knows that...

    ¡°Wanna train while we watch?¡±

    I nod and pull my coat off. I know she¡¯s going to be a distraction for me. She always has been. At least she¡¯s no longer a void that makes me empty, and in need of things I don¡¯t want. She is no longer an obsession.

    I''m glad I came dressed for training. I grab my sparring gloves and we start to hit each other, softly at first for warm up.

    Stuart laughs, ¡°You know the craziest part of this shit?¡±

    I shake my head and let him hit my hands.

    He nods towards the window but doesn¡¯t stop staring at me, ¡°She¡¯s probably the one who is the most sane of us all. Right now, she seems a little touched but she¡¯s gonna be fine. Those orphans are hard man, they get beat for shit you and I don¡¯t even know we do. I knew a couple orphans and they were balls to the walls crazy.¡±

    I shake my head, ¡°She¡¯s delicate. She isn¡¯t like them.¡± I look at her pacing around her room, ¡°She isn¡¯t like us either. If one of them lays a hand on her¡­¡±

    ¡°Easy tiger.¡±

    I take a light hit to the jaw and turn to face him. I feel it make sparks inside of me.

    He gives me a shitty grin and I try to give him a shot to the face. He ducks and jabs me in the ribs.

    I feel it lighting up inside of me. He points at me, seeing the look in my eyes, ¡°Friendly. I don¡¯t wanna hurt you.¡±

    I shake my head, ¡°You do every time you speak. Wanna, gonna, hafta, and the crowning jewel in that family¡ªsup. By far my favorite. I imagined it was more of a cockney phrase, like we would sup with another family. Of course, time spent with you has cured me of that foolish notion. I actually Google the urban dictionary weekly to understand you.¡±

    Stuart shakes his head, ¡°One day that carrot you got shoved in yo¡¯ ass is GONNA get pulled out and you¡¯ll HAFTA loosen up a bit, bro.¡±

    I growl, taking shots on him. I punch at least ten rabbit punches, each one landing with a feathery grace but not inflicting pain. He doesn¡¯t have time to stop a single one.

    He laughs and backs off, ¡°How come you don¡¯t wanna go pro? You¡¯d be the man.¡±

    I roll my eyes, ¡°Yes, being the man has always been an enticing motivator.¡± I look back at the small room with the small blonde, and smile. It¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve felt whatever the hell I¡¯m feeling. She¡¯s safe and I can see her. I don¡¯t need to hurt when she¡¯s there. I feel like finding her is the path to saving her.

    It¡¯s like they¡¯re both alive when I see her.

    We fight for a while longer, but I see the glimpse of exhaustion on his face, ¡°Go home and get some rest.¡±

    He shakes his head, ¡°You want something to eat?¡±

    I nod, ¡°Sure. I¡¯ll have whatever you¡¯re having.¡±

    He grins and leaves the apartment. It¡¯s not really an apartment; it will be. We''re staying at an inn that makes me want to clean the way she does. We are renovating the apartment into something we can live in while she finishes high school. We have two years of this ahead of us. Two years of watching her until she finishes school. Unless of course, Jane can cure her before then. Even if she did, I don¡¯t think I could leave her. I left once and I didn¡¯t find her again for a decade.

    Stuart comes back with the food, and I can''t trace the time he¡¯s been gone. She makes everything faster, even with her limited movements and lack of activity.

    ¡°Has she been reading this whole time?¡±

    I nod.

    He shoves me lightly, ¡°You¡¯ve been watching her this whole time and she hasn¡¯t moved?¡±

    I give him a look when I take my bag of junk food and my chocolate shake from him. I suck from the straw, watching her, and decide I could live this happy for the rest of my life.

    ¡°You¡¯re getting creepy about this, man. You remember she''s a sixteen-year-old girl, right?¡±

    I feel the spark. It burns when I think about hurting him. I swallow it and sigh, ¡°It''s not like that, Stu. I¡¯ll never be able to explain to you how I failed her. You can''t understand unless you let someone down, the way I have.¡± It is the wrong thing to say to the wrong person.

    He opens his burger and starts to eat, ¡°Whatever, eat up.¡±

    I eat but the food tastes bad. She has suffered for a decade in that place. She has wasted away like Rapunzel in her tower and I have failed her.

    I finish and look at my watch, ¡°I¡¯m meeting with the head nun.¡±

    ¡°Mother Superior.¡±

    I give him a grin, ¡°Right. Stay here.¡±

    He shakes his head, ¡°I won''t leave.¡±

    Fear ripples through me, ¡°You can''t take your eyes off of her. You understand that?¡±

    He looks intimidated for a second and I hate myself for my tone. He nods, ¡°Dude, I got this shit. She isn¡¯t exactly doing tricks over there and you¡¯ll be in the damned building with her.¡±

    I don¡¯t want to go. I don¡¯t want to leave the window. My hands start to sweat.

    He grabs my arm, ¡°Go. I won''t take my eyes off that girl. If I see anything, I will text you immediately.¡±

    I take a breath and turn away. I need to see the nun more than I need to watch her.

    I race down the stairs and across the warm desert street. Even in the dead of winter, Clovis is a warm place. Nice in the winter but the summer must be murder.

    I can¡¯t get my breath when I walk through the front door. I¡¯m greeted by her, the steely-eyed nun I already had a chat with.

    ¡°Mr. Adams, how nice to see you again.¡±

    I know it isn¡¯t. I give her my business face, ¡°Good evening, Mother.¡±

    Her eyes twinkle when I say it, and I wonder if it¡¯s the wrong thing to say. I know nothing about Catholicism and when I asked at the office before we left, they told me the nun in charge was Mother. I never went to church. My parents were alcoholics and closet atheists. Most parents who live through what they have, end up that way. I know I never believed in God until a few months ago. Now I wonder actively, if God intervened? How else could her paper have landed on my desk? How else could I have dropped blood upon her name?

 Page 4

    The nun walks to her office. I notice the smell of the place again. Sterile and frightening. Kids can''t find joy in this place, there¡¯s no way. It¡¯s like kid prison.

    When I sit down, I keep my arrogant flare riding high. She¡¯s a bit of a ball buster, and I don¡¯t dare let her think she can one up me, even if I have to admit she¡¯s scary in the habit. I know there is a horror movie I watched once with nuns floating down a breezy hallway. The whole scene is somewhere in the back of my mind, haunting my dreams.

    ¡°I understand you wish to tell me how to run my orphanage?¡±

    I watch her for a second before I nod, ¡°Yes.¡±

    She looks affronted, ¡°You think you know how to raise these children, better than I do?¡±

    I shake my head, ¡°No.¡±

    Her eyes narrow, ¡°Is this a game to you, Mr. Adams?¡±

    I shake my head again but this time more slowly. I am trembling on the edge of my anger, ¡°I owe that girl the sun, the moon, and the stars. I owe her everything in the whole world. The only reason I haven¡¯t checked her out, is that our therapist agrees she will meltdown and close up. It will destroy the tiny amount of sanity she clings to, if I take her from here. She isn¡¯t ready for reality. She can''t face the things that she¡¯s done and have been done to her. The moment we are cleared from that, I will spend every second of my life recreating the world for her. Do you understand that level of devotion and care?¡±

    The nun swallows and clasps her hands, ¡°We understand her sit¡­¡±

    I slap my hand on her mahogany desk, ¡°NO!¡± I shudder with anger, ¡°You don¡¯t. You don¡¯t know what it''s like to accidentally kill a small child who is about to be raped by a fucking savage.¡± I push the spark down. I can¡¯t feel my legs. I want to run or kick the door in and just take her. I take a breath, ¡°Forgive me.¡± I just said fuck to a nun. If I wasn¡¯t already going to hell, I''d worry.

    She looks frightened but nods.

    I continue calmly, ¡°You and I both, have no idea what it¡¯s like being her. She believes she¡¯s Emalyn. If we take that from her¡­well, Doctor Bradley believes she will cocoon herself in denial and possibly go catatonic.¡±

    The nun frowns, ¡°You are certain this is the girl?¡±

    I nod, ¡°That is the girl. I would know her from a mile even if I were blind. What we went through, it bonded us. I know her. Her name isn¡¯t Emalyn, she took that from my sister. She must have been only five or six-years old when it happened. The Spicers called her kid, and a variety of other names I won''t repeat. They never said her name. They did say Emalyn; I¡¯m assuming she took the name because it was the only one she had heard in a while.¡±

    ¡°Well, she seems to be very normal for what she has been through.¡±

    I tap my fingers against the chair like Jane does and stop myself. I hate that I¡¯ve picked up annoying habits from her. ¡°She doesn¡¯t remember anything. She¡¯s blocked everything out. The world isn¡¯t real. How normal is that? She calls herself the name of a dead girl she shot.¡±

    The nun smiles as if she is trying to avoid the things I am making her feel, ¡°What would you like us to change?¡±

    I hold up a finger, ¡°New rules. You don¡¯t ever touch her. No one lays a hand on her or hits her with anything. I will remove any appendage that comes in physical contact with her body. I understand this makes me sound crazy; I am comfortable with that and a prison sentence defending her.¡±

    She looks at me like I am insane, but nods slowly.

    I hold up a second finger, ¡°My millions I am donating will benefit her. I want her to have slightly-nicer clothes, nothing obvious, but come on. Those clothes are disturbing. She looks like she¡¯s Amish. She should look like a teenager, not a Sister Wife. I want driving lessons, healthy food, and vitamins. I want it for them all.¡±

    She nods, ¡°That is generous of you.¡±

    I shake my head and hold up my third finger, ¡°It¡¯s not. It¡¯s common decency. Thirdly, she continues to see a therapist weekly. This is kept quiet. I will have the appointments all set up; Dr. Bradley will continue to treat her.¡±

    I hold up a fourth finger, ¡°She gets more freedom. This place is dank, cold, and boring as hell. The kids here look like they belong on the set of Flowers in the Attic. I almost want to ask to see what you¡¯re putting in the cookies, but I won''t because I highly doubt they get cookies. I can tell that from watching her through that window. She is being suffocated. More freedom to explore town and make friends. From now on the grade ten through twelve students will go to the public school. They will have normal clothes and go there.¡±

    She looks like she wants to talk, but I wave my first finger at her, ¡°Completely comfortable with prison time.¡±

    She sighs, ¡°You¡¯re being a tyrant and treating us like we¡¯re a sub par facility.¡±

    I nod, ¡°You are, and if you don¡¯t cooperate with me, I will have officials from the federal government investigating you. The things that fly in a rinky-dink, little, backwoods town in New Mexico don¡¯t fly so easily when your facility is in the New York Times for the world to see.¡± I stand to leave, ¡°My secretary will be in touch tomorrow. She will organize it all for you and wire the money. The contract you will sign will contain all of the elements we have just discussed. You honestly don¡¯t need to change a single thing. I will have staff provided for the orphanage. They will work as cleaners and maintenance and help with the children. Each will be cleared through the FBI and they will report back to me. Good day.¡±

    I leave, not going up the stairs, kicking in the door, sweeping her up into my arms, and running like a wild man.

    I leave and I force myself to believe it all has a purpose.

    Chapter Three

    ¡°You sure you want this? It¡¯s kinda girlie.¡±

    I look up at the tattoo girl and frown, ¡°Yes and maybe less talking from you.¡±

    She gives me a look, ¡°Don¡¯t be pissy before I put the tatt on, dude. Pissy before means I might slip.¡±

    I fight the sneer on my face and lose the battle, ¡°I pay for the quality I see.¡±

    She shrugs and looks between my legs, blatantly obvious about it too, ¡°Okay. You can be girlie if you want to, baby. I suspect you can afford some girlie.¡± She winks.

    I give Stuart a look. He chuckles, ¡°Yeah, baby.¡± He winks like her, but she¡¯s still staring at my groin.

    I roll my eyes, ¡°It¡¯s Shakespeare.¡±

    She shrugs as I lie on my stomach on the table. The needle is bliss. The small stabs and drags against my ribs are beautiful agony. ¡°What does it mean?¡±

    I close my eyes and let the slight pain wash over me, ¡°It¡¯s a speech about tolerance from The Merchant of Venice, by Shakespeare. It means that even though you see me differently, I have the same reactions to things as you. I am human, just different than you but no less worthy of love, respect, and justice. I bleed, laugh, and die the same as you, regardless of the differences inside of me. Or outside.¡±

    She sighs, ¡°Wow. You¡¯re like one of those super-deep guys, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    I chuckle, ¡°Not so much. I just like the scene. I like that it blatantly points out that differences don''t change the fact we are all human.¡± I glance at Stuart.

    He looks bored, ¡°You shoulda got the one with the sword. I like that one better.¡±

    I shake my head, ¡°No. This is for her.¡±

    Stuart shakes his head, ¡°Shoulda got a heart or something, bro.¡±

    I glance at him, ¡°No.¡±

    He knows not to push it.

    ¡°Your girlfriend?¡± she asks.

    I shake my head, ¡°Just my girl.¡± I don¡¯t elaborate and she doesn¡¯t ask. She finishes and holds up the mirror for me to see it.

    ''If you prick us, do we not bleed?

    If you tickle us, do we not laugh?

    If you poison us, do we not die?

    And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?''

    I nod, ¡°Perfect.¡±

    She beams as she puts the bandage over it, ¡°You have nice skin. You want another one?¡±

    I shake my head, ¡°Not today.¡± I slap down the cash and walk out, pulling my shirt on.

    ¡°The heat here is crazy, for winter. Normally I hate Boston''s winters, but this is weird. It feels wrong to not be cold.¡± Stuart complains as we walk to the truck, "Maybe no snowbirds for us."

    I laugh, ¡°Can you still see her on the feed?¡±

    He sighs, ¡°Dude, she¡¯s in class. You gotta chill out. The security guard at the school is sitting outside her classroom.¡±

    It happens too quickly. I can''t shut it down. I grab his shirt in an act of violence, not okay with either of us, and seethe, ¡°This isn¡¯t going to get better until she is. It isn¡¯t going to get easier. So if you need to walk, do it now. Otherwise, shut the hell up about it. I am not going to chill out, dude.¡±

    He chuckles but eyeballs my hands on him, ¡°You can''t even say dude normally.¡± He shoves me off and straightens his shirt, ¡°I was just saying. That¡¯s all.¡± I feel my lip curl up but he points at me, ¡°There¡¯s an underground fight ring in the city here, you need to go?¡±

    The idea of it perks up my spirits, but the thought of leaving her unobserved makes me sweaty in the palms. I shake my head, ¡°No.¡±

    He nudges me, ¡°What do you need me to do? This sitting in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere is gonna give me a stroke. My ADHD can¡¯t handle shit like this. I need a job. You cool if I find something to do when you''re on watch?¡±

    I restrain from choking him and slap his back, ¡°Please, find something to do before I lose it. I don¡¯t have anything, but I¡¯m sure my father has something¡ªor you know what, just go have fun. When are we ever going to be in New Mexico? Go see things and tourist about.¡±

    He grins and runs his hands through his short, dark hair, ¡°Alright, I need to go run some fights. I¡¯m gonna hustle some cash outta these bumpkins. We cool?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

 Page 5

    He pounds his hand into mine. I hate it. I hate urban things, lazy speech, text talk, and stupidity. Technology is making us less and less likely to survive as a species. We are so reliant on it. It bothers me to no end, that I need all of it to watch her constantly.

    He drops me off at the apartment. I have a fridge, microwave, and everything I need to watch her. I may die of scurvy, but I will be able to watch every second. I sit in front of the laptop as she leaves the class. I switch to the hall view, noticing the security guard nonchalantly walking behind her.

    She smiles and waves at a girl, the girl she¡¯s always with when she¡¯s free. The Michelle girl that Stuart calls a smokin¡¯-ass hottie.

    My girl seems nervous; she holds things tight to her. I can see the panic on her face. She¡¯s counting steps, that¡¯s a bad sign. My heart starts to pick up in pace. I want to make her better, I owe her that. I wish I could be someone else. Someone new and fresh, who won''t remind her of the bad things. I shudder when I think about it. I touch my phone in my pocket but I don¡¯t dial. I can''t call her. Jane¡ªDoctor Bradley is no longer my doctor. I have to accept that. I have to move past it.

    I just hold the phone and fight the urges I get when things are out of control. My skin longs for things I can''t have anymore. I have to be different now, for her.

    The marks on my back are gone, long gone, but the feel of the whip is there still. The feeling of deserving every mark, every lash, seems to remain even afterwards. I never seem to be free of the heavy guilt.

    I¡¯m barely able to catch the glimpse of her getting on the bus, but I can tell she¡¯s uncomfortable.

    She¡¯s pushing herself.

    The eleven minutes it takes for the bus is long. It¡¯s longer than most things I¡¯ve lived through.

    My fingers tap, I pump out fifty pushups, I pace, I shoot the ball into the hoop Stuart demanded.

    I hear the bus and drop the ball, rushing to the window to see her blonde hair through the glass. She looks bad.

    I bite my lip, watching her window. I count the minutes it takes. That¡¯s a bad sign.

    Finally, she flings open the door to her room, dumping sanitizer on her hands. She smells it and rubs it up her arms. She opens the window and sticks her face out. She is taking gulping breaths. My gut aches.

    I can see it.

    I see her struggle.

    It''s my fault. I left her and she ended up here.

    Shame replaces the anxiety as it passes. She pulls her head in the window and puts on another dose of the sanitizer, looking down the whole time, like a second-class citizen. I want to hold her. It''s the wrong kind of thought because she is family. She''s my girl in an innocent way.

    The ache on my skin of my fresh tattoo is the only thing holding me together. If I can''t just talk to her, I¡¯ll have sleeves in no time. Or my back will be covered. Either way, I need to find a way to release it where I don¡¯t have to stay in control.

    I have given up my other ways for her. I want to be the person she needs, not the man I am.

    Weeks pass, they don¡¯t change much. We watch the same things and the same faces. We watch her make the same moves and live in the same bubble.

    Stuart walks into the apartment and looks at my new tattoo bandage. He shakes his head while stuffing a sandwich in his mouth.

    ¡°What?¡±

    He nods, ¡°What¡¯s that one look like?¡± In the last three months I¡¯ve gotten four of them.

    I bite my lip and lift the bandage up.

    He stays quiet when he sees it.

    Neither one of us say anything. I don¡¯t want to talk about it, but for whatever reason, I want him to see it.

    I want someone to see it, because I can''t show the person I need to show it to. She¡¯s dead. She''s dead because I failed her. I should have protected her. That has never changed. At least I have a second chance, with the other girl.

    I put the bandage back and pull on a shirt, ¡°I¡¯m going out. Eyes on the camera.¡±

    He gives a thumbs up and continues chewing.

    I grab the sandwich he brought me and carry it out onto the street.

    Stuart texts me, ''Yo, she''s on the move.''

    I pace until I see her leave the building, walking with a friend, the Michelle Monkton girl. They get into a car. I get into the truck and follow them to the other side of town where the houses are nicer and more family oriented.

    They get out. The girl is nattering on about something. She doesn¡¯t notice my girl is sad about something. She has the fake look on her face that she gets around other people. She doesn¡¯t usually get it around Michelle.

    My girl walks inside, fidgeting and looking unsure. I hate it.

    I want to save her. I want her to know someone loves her; I just need to find them. I know she isn¡¯t a Spicer. I think I always did.

    The dead look in her eyes came from loss. The loss of her family, safety, and love.

    I sit parked for a minute, as she goes inside and closes me out. Knowing I can''t sit here and wait, I get out and walk around the block to the street behind Michelle¡¯s house. The house behind them looks like no one is home. I walk around the side yard, like I am supposed to do it and enter through the backyard. I like trusting, small-town people who leave their back doors unlocked.

    The house is dark and stinks of old cooking smells. I get up to the living room window and sit there, watching the backyard. There¡¯s a pool, it¡¯s not fancy. Nothing is fancy at Michelle¡¯s but it looks homey. Like middle-income people who hug their children, because they had them out of an act of love.

    My girl sits at the edge of the pool with her legs in the water. She¡¯s holding something, her hand sanitizer. She¡¯s on edge. I see her trying and I see them attempting to not notice. But no one is succeeding.

    She watches one of the brothers. It bothers me. She¡¯s young, too young. She¡¯s fragile and needs me, and that makes her mine.

    A slow frown crosses my brow. She isn¡¯t mine like that; she can look at boys her age. I have to stop seeing her that way. I narrow my gaze, pulling my binoculars from my pocket and search for her face.

    When I find her, she¡¯s sad. I don¡¯t know what to do about it.

    I pull my phone out and dial. I hate that I have to do it but I do.

    ¡°Hello?¡± she answers quickly.

    ¡°Jane, this is a mistake. We need to talk to her. She needs to know about me as much as I need her.¡±

    She sighs into the phone, ¡°Eli, you have to stop this. This is bringing you backwards. You need to keep your distance. I¡¯ve seen her every week for the last few months. I know what she needs. I¡¯ve told you before, you shouldn¡¯t be involved until we need you to. She has been safe for a lot of years on her own. She hasn¡¯t needed you to interfere with her. You need to go back to work. This is putting you at risk and taking away from the healing work you¡¯ve done on yourself.¡±

    I speak into the phone but still watch through the binoculars, ¡°She needs me as much as I need her.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re wrong. You need her far more. I¡¯m excited you have found her. Her DNA matches the mystery DNA from the Spicer¡¯s home. She is the girl. Her fingerprints were on the gun. We all believe you now. No one believes you shot your sister, not anymore. That is an amazing breakthrough for you. You need to let her go, until you can play a part in her healing, when she¡¯s ready to meet you. I don¡¯t even know how we¡¯ll wake her up without putting her further back. I¡¯ve never handled something like this before. Her DNA doesn¡¯t match the Spicers. She wasn¡¯t their child. That means she was abducted and that means we will have a whole other ball of wax to contend with. God knows what they did to her. Just trust me, right now we are on schedule.¡±

    I sigh, ¡°You better be right about this, Jane.¡±

    I can hear her tapping her fingers on the phone, ¡°You need to remember, she isn¡¯t your sister, Eli. That, and we all believe you. Your uncle told me your parents are devastated that they never believed you.¡±

    I press the phone off and focus on my girl again. I don¡¯t give a shit about their feelings, and I don¡¯t see her as my sister. If anyone in the world knows Em is dead, it''s me. I killed her by not moving fast enough.

    My girl needs me though. I see it on her face. That¡¯s what I care about.

    Chapter Four

    Chicago 2011

    Stuart looks at the fancy house and nods, ¡°If this is her house, holy fuck.¡±

    I swallow and ignore the millionth phone call from my secretary. I pass my phone to Stuart, ¡°Tell Nancy I had to take a meeting, and I have the design team working on the sketches she needs for the water plant.¡± The words are flat and dead. My heart hurts.

    I open the door to the truck and climb out. My shoes gleam in the midday sun. I look up at the house, clutching the envelope.

    I climb the front steps, knock and try not to throw up. I don¡¯t look back at Stuart; he makes being weak okay. I can''t handle that right now.

    A tall man opens the door. He looks at me funny, ¡°Can I help you?¡±

    I shake my head, it¡¯s my natural response to that question. I pass him the envelope, ¡°I can help you.¡±

    He frowns and opens it. His jaw clenches. His eyes lift, searching mine for truth or trickery. ¡°How?¡± he says slowly.

    I sigh, ¡°It¡¯s a long story, but the hospital had taken her blood the day she was abducted, before the surgery. The police kept it in evidence, in case she ever turned up. It¡¯s a perfect match.¡±

    His eyes started to water, ¡°HELEN!¡± he screams up the stairs. His voice is a shrill sound men don¡¯t make, not normally.

    I don¡¯t know what to do with my hands. His wife comes running, no doubt from the panic in his voice.

    He hands her the envelope. She drops to her knees and sobs into the picture of my girl. My girl at a distance. She shakes, hugging it, ¡°She looks just like my mother, just like my mother.¡±

    He drops to his knees too, wrapping himself around her.

    They console each other. I look around; I had been hoping to be invited in, but the shock stopped them from seeing the house behind them. They don¡¯t even know where they are. I know that feeling.

    I sit on the concrete beside them, ¡°Her name, that she uses is Emalyn. She has no idea who she is or where she came from. But she is safe.¡±

 Page 6

    Helen reaches for me, pulling me into the embrace, ¡°You dear boy. How did you find her?¡±

    I shake my head, ¡°It¡¯s a long story. I just want you to know she¡¯s safe. I know the burden of not knowing.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,¡± Roger mutters in sobs.

    ¡°When can we see her? We¡¯ll pack our bags now.¡± Helen asks.

    I shake my head, ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m here and not her. You can''t right now.¡±

    Disappointment, even fury, crosses their faces. I put a hand up, ¡°She is in a fragile state. Her mental state is bad. I know you want to see her. I get it. But she is a mess and hasn¡¯t even begun to understand anything. Right now she doesn¡¯t remember anything from before. She has a type of disillusion going on. She has created a whole world, to block out the bad. You and I don¡¯t exist to her.¡±

    Their faces pale.

    Roger gets a savage look on his face, ¡°You mean to tell me, you know where our daughter is but we can''t see her, after all these years? Is this some kind of fucking joke?¡±

    I shake my head, ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°Stop saying you know. You don¡¯t now.¡±

    I nod, ¡°I do know. I was with Sarah once. We were together at the place she was kept. We escaped together as children, after my sister was killed there. Even I haven¡¯t seen her. I cannot contact her. The only person seeing her right now, who knows who she is, is her therapist. She is trying to slowly make her way into Sarah¡¯s mind. If she isn¡¯t careful, she could cause her to go catatonic. She suffers with extreme OCD, anxiety, a lack of control in her life, and she is delusional. She is a classic case of a person living in fight or flight. Her fight or flight response will literally be denial or withdrawing into herself.¡±

    Helen wipes away her tears, ¡°I don¡¯t understand. How did this happen? Where was she?¡±

    I sigh, ¡°She was kidnapped by Laura and Randy Spicer. They took her to a place she calls the dirty house, in therapy. Trust me, that disgusting place suited that name. She remembers almost nothing from there, but I was there for two days once. When I saw her there, she was shutdown completely. I helped her escape. My name is Eli Adams. When you Google it, you¡¯ll see my story in it. It¡¯s not important, but it''s better to know who I am. What¡¯s important is she is safe, she is unharmed physically, and she is in treatment.¡±

    Roger looks confused, ¡°How long till we can see her?¡±

    I shake my head, ¡°I don¡¯t know. When she finally knows who she is, she has to make that choice. The doctor won''t force her to do anything detrimental to her well-being. I can''t see her either.¡±

    Helen grabs my hands and squeezes, ¡°You need to keep us informed. Please, don¡¯t leave us out of the loop on this. Do the police know?¡±

    I squeeze back, ¡°As soon as I know anything, I will tell you. You¡¯re her only family.¡±

    Roger looks angry still. I can''t fault him for it. I am angry too. ¡°Who¡¯s this therapist she¡¯s seeing?¡±

    I give him a grin and try not to let it be my shitty one, ¡°Her name is Jane Bradley. She cured me.¡±

    It¡¯s a lie but his face relaxes.

    ¡°She deals in PTSD and kidnapping victims.¡±

    Helen¡¯s face scrunches into a sob, ¡°What did they do to her?¡±

    I shake my head, ¡°I don¡¯t know. When I got there, she was already five or six. The timeline is, essentially, she was taken from Boston to the dirty house. She left the dirty house with me and stayed with me for a day. From there she went to Clovis, somehow. She stayed in Clovis, living on the streets. She was found and taken to the orphanage. A drug house had been busted just months before she was found. They assumed she was one of the kids from that. There was a lot of prostitution. She gave them the name Emalyn Spicer. It was the only thing she remembered. The name never came up in the system. And Clovis being so small, they never thought to piece together Emalyn, my sister and Spicer, the family who kidnapped all those girls over the years. Anyway, she¡¯s been there ever since.¡±

    Roger nods, ¡°We don¡¯t want her in an orphanage. She isn¡¯t a god-damned orphan. Where are the police on this?¡±

    I put my hands up, ¡°She¡¯s safe there. There is no crime for the police to investigate. Finding her has solved the cold case for them. The Spicers are dead. The police are with us on this, but they too, are following protocol being given by the doctors. No one wants to see her mental state risked. I asked them to allow me to tell you, due to my connection with her. In her mind, which is as fragile as a snowflake, she is safe. If we brought her out and told her she had a family and she was a victim of God knows what, we¡¯d have a mess on our hands. We don¡¯t even know what she saw as a child or what¡¯s in there. It¡¯s got to go slowly and in a controlled environment. She thrives, as best as she can, in the structure and control of the orphanage.¡±

    He sighs and shakes his head, ¡°I guess we just have to be grateful she¡¯s alive. She¡¯s in one piece. You know, when your child is taken, you assume the worst. I need to speak to the police on this to feel better; our detective from Chicago will want to know. He retired never finding her.¡±

    Before I can answer him and hand him the police officer''s card I have for him, Helen grips my hand, ¡°Come with us.¡± Her eyes are desperate. "We have something we want to show you."

    She looks back at Roger. He stands, lifting her up. "If you just want to move your truck, I''ll get the car."

    I point to my truck and Stuart in the driver¡¯s seat, ¡°Let¡¯s take my vehicle if we¡¯re going anywhere.¡± I don¡¯t want to tell them that I can''t part from the live feed of their daughter. I don¡¯t want them to know I watch her. It''s creepy but I can''t stop. I took my eyes off of her once.

    Helen closes the door to the house and pulls Roger down the stairs to the truck. I jog down and climb in, turning the volume on the phone down. Seeing her face makes me smile inside.

    Stuart doesn¡¯t smile. He gives them the look I¡¯m also wearing. He knows this pain more than anyone.

    ¡°Stuart, this is Helen and Roger Mastermen. They¡¯re Sarah¡¯s parents. This is Stuart, my friend.¡±

    Stuart clenched his jaw, ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you. Where to?¡±

    Helen sniffles and whispers, ¡°Take us back out of the neighborhood and turn right on the main road.¡±

    Stuart nods, ¡°Okay.¡± He seems confused. I am too.

    I stare down at my girl. She¡¯s tired. It came last night, the bad feeling she gets. Jane says it¡¯s called ¡®the lonely¡¯. It eats at her and freezes her up. I absentmindedly thumb the scar on my thigh, stopping myself when I realize I¡¯m doing it. Just touching it makes me want the pain, but I swore I wouldn¡¯t do it as long as she was in the world. Saving her is the thing that I need to be filled with. With her alive, I¡¯m not the lost boy. I have a chance to be redeemed.

    ¡°Just turn right up here at the sign.¡±

    I frown when I see it: PARKHILLS CEMETARY.

    The fuzz and white noise start to fill me as it dawns on me what I am about to face. My breath hitches as I look back down at her face. She is perfect. She is perfection. She is alive. The thing I¡¯m about to face belongs to a girl I don¡¯t know. I need them separate.

    Stuart gives me a look as we park. He looks sick as we all climb out.

    We lost children don¡¯t take fake graves lightly. Stuart doesn¡¯t want to come, but I shake my head slowly. I need him. Helen grips to Roger as they lead us up the path and rambles, ¡°We had it built a few years ago. We don¡¯t ever leave town. Someone is always at the house; we take turns. In case she comes home. It¡¯s always been that way but deep down, we always believed her gone. We built this to try to ease some of the pain.¡±

    Roger looks back at me, ¡°It didn¡¯t work but our boys needed it. They needed something.¡±

    I use every ounce of restraint to walk the path with them. When I see the child-angel statue, I almost run. I can''t look at Stuart. I¡¯m scared of what I¡¯ll see and what he¡¯ll see. They stop at the child, both of them kneeling. I¡¯m frozen. The white noise and fuzz separate my limbs from my body. I have no control. I need it to pour from my skin but I can''t. I made a silent promise to her, I wouldn¡¯t do that.

    The statue is small and sweet. A stone angel in a rose garden. ¡®SARAH, BELOVED ANGEL¡¯. I gag a little when I read it. They gave up? They gave up looking? Did I also? Had I moved on? Did I abandon her, leaving her to rot in that place alone and scared with the lonely holding her hostage? Guilt and hatred take turns being more than anything else I can muster.

    ¡°Guess we need to take it down.¡±

    I speak softly, ¡°Allow me to handle that.¡±

    Roger looks back at me, ¡°Thank you, Eli. I can never thank you enough.¡±

    I nod once. I don¡¯t have anything else. I glance at Stuart. His eyes glisten but he sees my face and nods.

    Helen sniffles again, ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do; I just need to see her. Just once, you know. Just once to be sure. I don¡¯t know what I can do. How can I wait? She¡¯s my baby. What will I do?¡± She leans into her husband and sobs.

    Roger strokes her head, ¡°I¡¯m certain Eli will tell us everything he can.¡±

    I nod, ¡°Of course. As soon as I know anything. Of course.¡± It¡¯s a wooden lie and I¡¯m certain they know it, but we all play nice. Stuart clears his throat, ¡°Let me take you guys home. This is a lot to deal with.¡±

    Roger lifts her but she doesn¡¯t stay with him. She leaps into my arms, sobbing into my chest, ¡°You keep her safe. You keep her safe. Promise me you will. Promise you won''t keep anything from us.¡±

    I break inside, ¡°I will keep her safe and I will ensure you know what I know.¡± Roger sees it on my face. He breaks too. We don¡¯t have any control and it¡¯s bothering us both. I can sense it. He grabs his destroyed wife, holding her to him. I can''t imagine what they¡¯ve been through. I, honestly, don''t know how they¡¯ve clutched to each other. My parents never did that. I hand Roger a card, ¡°This is the lead detective and on the back is Dr. Bradley''s number. They will verify everything for you. I¡¯m sorry it¡¯s not the reunion you wanted.¡±

 Page 7

    He shakes his head, ¡°Eli, she¡¯s alive and safe. As parents, you can''t ask for more than that. You have no right to it. You let her down once already.¡± I know that pain.

    He walks away with Stuart. When I can''t see them anymore, I pull the phone from my pocket. The live stream is a bit blurry but I can see her. She¡¯s doing homework. Something about her look makes me smile. It¡¯s something I haven¡¯t seen before. She¡¯s curious or daydreaming. I would die to know what it is about. Instead, I send a text.

    ¡®Sledgehammer and a clean up crew.¡¯

    ¡®Already ordered.¡¯

    If anyone knows the pain of being left behind and forgotten, it¡¯s Stuart. He would die, if he too, had a tomb somewhere.

    I don¡¯t know if I have waited long for Stuart or not. She¡¯s there in my mind and in front of me on the screen. She is everything, and somehow, she fills the void where the white noise and fuzz take away my feelings.

    With her I feel a thousand things. Most of them are bad but it¡¯s better than needing the pain to make me human again.

    A sledgehammer drops on the ground next to me. I glance up at him, ¡°They okay?¡±

    He shakes his head, ¡°No. They called that cop from the truck. They were sobbing and freaking out but he got them calmed down. He told them everything you said. They called Dr. Bradley after. She explained that she¡¯s basically living in a box and doesn¡¯t know it. She¡¯s under constant surveillance and safe, and that they need to keep their distance so she doesn¡¯t have all those bad things rush in all at once.¡±

    I pass him the phone and pick up the hammer. I pull off my jacket and roll up my sleeves.

    ¡°Don¡¯t wreck any of the other tombs and headstones.¡±

    I look at the others and nod, ¡°I¡¯ll try not to.¡±

    Chapter Five

    Boston - August 2012

    ¡°The hallway has cameras and I¡¯ve linked them to the laptop.¡±

    I look at him expectantly, ¡°What about the room? I can¡¯t see her in the room. I''ve spent two years watching her room, I want that."

    Stuart points at me, ¡°Don¡¯t start this shit again. Dr. Bradley says no. You need to deal with your shit as much as she needs to deal with hers. This is an invasion of privacy already.¡± He sees my jaw clench and leans in, ¡°We aren¡¯t having this conversation again. She and that hot-ass friend of hers, arrive in a couple hours. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    She¡¯s in the air flying. It makes me uncomfortable but Jane forbade me to fly with her. She forbade me to watch her constantly. She used words that I don¡¯t give a fuck about.

    Possession, obsession, control, self-destruction.

    What do I care about those things, when I have the cure so close to me? She is better than any pain, any pleasure, anything.

    I close the door, following Stuart down the long corridor. A man in a janitor uniform passes by us. I see Stuart freeze up. He has some of the lonely, like she does.

    He swerves a bit, brushing against the wall. I walk faster, looping my arm into his. We don¡¯t speak about it. He only needs a minute. He doesn¡¯t handle janitors. We never discuss it. We don¡¯t need to.

    I don''t like elevators, small spaces, or guns.

    We don¡¯t talk about it.

    I drive us to the gym so we can forget about the things we can''t change.

    An hour later, both of us are covered in sweat and fully exhausted when he nods at me, ¡°I have to go get her.¡± He laughs when he sees my face, ¡°You need one more round, bro. You ain¡¯t got all the piss and vinegar out yet. I¡¯ll message you when she lands.¡±

    I twitch with the want to be there when she lands. She needs me. She¡¯s going to be scared and confused, and the lonely is going to come and take her away.

    I feel the white noise and I turn to Angelo, pointing with my glove. He gives me a fierce smile. We enter the ring and knock gloves.

    I leave the gym two hours later, fresh, clean, and ready to see her in the flesh. I want her in Boston, where everything¡¯s new and different. I want to go to her; instead, I drive to Jane¡¯s office.

    I press the elevator and wait. I hate waiting. I hate Jane. I hate what I gave her and the satisfaction that crosses her lips when she sees me thinking about it.

    I step inside of the elevator and close my eyes.

    I hate elevators.

    They make me nervous. All small places where the walls creep in and try to touch you. Flashes of drawings and triangles, and the dead eyes in the corner, fill my mind. Sweat bursts from my skin. I can¡¯t wait one more second when the doors open and I fight the urge to leap from the metal box.

    She is in her chair, tapping her fingers against the wood. She smiles seeing my face, ¡°Eli.¡±

    I scowl, ¡°Jane.¡±

    She gives me a look, ¡°I¡¯ve asked you to call me Dr. Bradley in the office, please.¡±

    I shake my head, ¡°You also asked me to handcuff you to a bed and fuck you senseless so I don¡¯t give a shit, Jane.¡±

    Her face twitches but remains the same milky tone. She doesn¡¯t blush. I¡¯m convinced she doesn¡¯t feel. ¡°Sit, we need to talk for a minute.¡±

    I remove my jacket and lay it on the back of the chair I sit on. She looks me over, ¡°You look tired. Are you sleeping?¡±

    ¡°Pass.¡±

    She narrows her eyes, ¡°You have to let me know how you are doing, if you want to be part of this, Eli.¡±

    I match her glare, ¡°Well, Jane, I am doing well. How are you?¡±

    She scoffs, ¡°Patronize me all you like, but I am the key holder in this little game. The place I¡¯ve got her now is serene and beautiful. You need to back off and give her space.¡±

    I shake my head, ¡°No. It has been a very long time and her family and I want answers.¡±

    She crosses her arms, ¡°You want answers? She is fucking insane¡ªhow¡¯s that? Is that clinical enough for you?¡±

    I don¡¯t respond.

    She sighs, ¡°She is literally seconds away from a full-scale meltdown at all times. She is completely weak and lost. The only thing that holds that kid together is that dimwit friend that she calls Shell. I think if she were to lose her, that would be the end. I am praying she meets a guy on campus and gives it the old college try. That is about the only thing that will save her. Love and companionship in the form she calls normal. She is obsessed with normal.¡± She starts to laugh, ¡°You, my friend, are about the last man on earth, she would be prevailed upon to date. She wants nothing like she wants normal. Not some scarred freak show with hate and callous bitterness all over his face. If she sees that room of yours, she will never understand you. Not ever.¡±

    I give her a minute to fully grasp everything she has just said, ¡°Are you done?¡±

    She takes a breath and nods.

    I stand, ¡°I don''t see her like that. You need to get it through your head, my not wanting you is not because of her. It was lovely seeing you, as always. I will update you on anything I discover.¡± I pull on my jacket and grin, ¡°I realize you want me and that makes this difficult, but I gave you what you wanted. I never want to speak of it again. It makes me feel sad for you.¡±

    Her nostrils flare, ¡°You wanting to fuck the girl you¡¯ve mentally swapped for your sister, makes me sad for you.¡±

    I take a step towards her but she flinches so dramatically, I stop and point, ¡°She is not my sister. Do not try to plant seeds in my head. I see you and your antics, Jane. And just so you know, I filmed our little evening together. With how shaky your reputation is, I¡¯m certain whipping poor Eli Adams, the lost boy who shot his sister, isn¡¯t going to win you your license back.¡±

    She swallows awkwardly; it almost makes me hard. I smile, ¡°I love dominating you in your office. Had we spent the evening here instead of at my place, I really believe we would have had a lot more fun.¡±

    Her eyes glass over, ¡°But then I would have missed being right about you and your dirty room of sin, and the fact you like to Dom and Sub.¡±

    I nod, ¡°Touch¨¦.¡±

    I turn and walk to the button for the elevator. She doesn¡¯t move and I don¡¯t turn back. I¡¯m ready to snap her fucking neck, but I need her to save my girl.

    The text messages start as I¡¯m reaching the dorms. My heart beats faster seeing her little requests. She keeps me at arms length with them. Never treating me as if I am someone she is familiar with. She always acts like we don¡¯t know each other. I hate that.

    I treat her the same way.

    I hate that more.

    I glance at the text, ''Can I go to the store?¡¯

    I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. I don¡¯t know how many times I will have to explain the Visa to her.

    I send her a message and dial Stuart, ¡°Hey. She needs to go to the store. You still there?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m here. I have a feeling I won''t be leaving here. Dr. Bradley just called and said to keep an eye on you. She said you seemed self-destructive.¡±

    I snort into the phone.

    He laughs, ¡°I told you not to bang her¡ªshe¡¯s crazy. Takes one to know one, ya know?¡±

    I nod, ¡°I have no desire to have this conversation ever again.¡±

    ¡°Whatever. Tell her I¡¯ll be ready when she is.¡±

    She answers my question. ¡°She needs twenty minutes. You good with then?¡±

    ¡°Whatever.¡±

    I sigh, ¡°You realize that¡¯s not actually a sentence right?¡±

    ¡°Carrot-in-ass-itis is affecting you again.¡±

    I hang up the phone and notice, she too, has left me a little chestnut of annoyance.

    ¡®KK.¡¯

    I shake my head, texting her a new message, ''KK is a typo, not a send off. Please speak like an adult''

    I press send with a grin. They are all trying to drive me insane. I''m convinced text talk will be the end of civilization.

    My desk is painful to sit at as she and Michelle get into the truck with Stuart. She''s out in the city. I have to keep taking deep breaths, chanting that she needs to be this different person.

    Their conversations are funny and distracting. I want to be in the truck with them, having fun with them. Stuart is charming and easy to gain their trust. Watching Michelle laugh and my girl blush makes me smile. I type slowly, letting my mind wander and wonder what it would be like. I know the things I am capable of. I know the person I am. I don¡¯t need Jane to point out the fact that I won''t ever be the man she needs, but I daydream anyway. It''s not wrong to imagine if we had met in a bar and she had laughed at my joke, if I told jokes.

 Page 8

    Chapter Six

    Angelo hits as hard as I did, if not harder. I stumble back. He points at me, "Easy, Eli. For fuck''s sake. Take it easy."

    I put my hands back up and shake my head. I see stars but it doesn¡¯t stop me. I jump back in, distracting him with my left and smoking my right across his jaw. He stumbles back, giving me the look. I wouldn''t normally like that look but she''s going on a date. I won''t ever be okay with it. So many things are wrong with me. I wish I could just make myself forget about the way I feel about her. I don¡¯t see the breaks anymore. I see her the way she is and I still want her. I need help.

    I need Angelo to give me the beating of a lifetime. He won''t unless I provoke him. I hit him again, not letting him have the second he needs. His fists start to fly. I lose sight of the floor and ceiling as my body bends back from the impact. I feel the ropes holding me in, but his sweaty torso is against mine. His hand comes back and I see a flash of color.

    He is gone and Stuart is holding my face up. Lance shouts, "I told you boys, none of that shit in my gym. Angelo, showers now!"

    My ears are pounding, making Lance''s shouts and Stuart''s words muffled by the blood. My eyes blur for a second and I feel it. I sigh into the release of the white noise and fuzz. Stuart holds me up, "Crazy son of a bitch."

    I lean back into the ropes and let it all go. The exhaustion and perfection of the pain is remarkable. It''s like exhaling the smoke of a tight cigar, rolled on the meaty thighs of a Cuban woman who knows what she''s doing. It''s bliss and drunken delight. I stagger out of the ropes and down the hall to the showers.

    I don¡¯t even have my gloves off, when I see him. His eyes flash, "Adams, I told you. I told you not to push me like that. What the fuck?" He is seething and pacing, like a cat behind a glass cage. I''ve seen a jaguar do it before in Thailand at a zoo. He watched us, pacing and plotting. Angelo looks the same. He''s angry and contemplating ways to murder me.

    I nod, "Sorry, man."

    He snarls, "Don¡¯t say sorry. It pisses me off more."

    "Okay." I tug at the tape and gloves.

    He gets a savage look in his eyes but comes over and helps me take my gloves off, "You''re a pain in the ass sometimes."

    "I know."

    Stuart comes in looking hostile too, "Dude, Lance is having an old-man attack. You gotta stop that shit. The underground clubs are for that shit." He grins at Angelo, "You gotta knock him out faster next time."

    Anger and annoyance are still slathered across Angelo''s face. He growls, "You can''t knock this mutha out. He''s immune to pain." He gets up and leaves for the showers.

    Stuart folds his thick arms across his chest, "I gotta go. She''s going on that date and I''m going out with Michelle. You gotta keep your crazy locked down, dude. For reals. She has earned space. She''s doing great so far."

    I sigh, "For reals? Is that a new one? You''re making them up now, aren¡¯t you? For real is bad enough and now you''re making it plural?"

    Stuart looks at me like I''m insane. I can taste blood in the back of my throat from my nosebleed. He shakes his head, "For reals is legit. I for reals gots to go on my date. You promise you''re cool with it?"

    I shake my head, "No, but yes. Go. You need a night off and you''re right, she''s earned it."

    He looks hesitant and then nods, "Okay. I''ll make sure Michelle messages her tons."

    I nod, "Don¡¯t forget you have to change the mirror in their dorm. Michelle ruined it, apparently." I forgot to mention it to him after my girl sent me a text asking for it to be replaced. She and Michelle sounded like the best roommates ever but the mirror bothered her a lot. I wish I had a way to see into her room. I wish we were back in New Mexico. It''s purely selfish but I do. The orphanage was a bad place but I liked the control I had there. I liked watching her. There she was the broken orphan; here she is beautiful. That is all, just beautiful.

    He sighs, "Yeah. See ya."

    I shower and change quickly, avoiding Lance''s annoyance. Angelo, Stuart, and I tend to take things too far for him. Today was too far for Angelo too.

    It was just right for me though. I''m relaxed in a way I haven¡¯t been in ages, even with the date looming over my head.

    I dial the phone as I leave the gym and jump in my car. She answers with attitude, "What now?"

    "You put her up to this, didn¡¯t you?"

    She laughs, "Eli, you and I both know she needs to start living like a normal girl. She is a mess. A date with a boy from school is exactly what she needs. The close contact of a male could help surface memories, unpleasant ones, but at least they would come on their own. You know what happens if she keeps blocking this? We have to go to Plan B. She has her phone, you, Stuart, and Michelle to run to her aid if she needs it. You have to ease off of her. She isn¡¯t your sister."

    I hang the phone up and fight the reoccurring fantasy I have of smothering her with a pillow and putting her in her car, to make it look like she drowned.

    I park across from the chicken place, Stuart said she was going to, that looks like a panic attack waiting to happen. Seeing it makes me frown as I get out of the car. She isn¡¯t going to make it. The guy, Sebastian, is standing outside. He looks nerdy clean, like he is. We''ve run everything we could on him but he''s perfect. He''s perfect for her, perfect balance for her. I wasn¡¯t able to find the connection between him and the good doctor, but I know she''s up to something. I feel bad for the guy a little. He''s never going to see the world of hurt that¡¯s coming. When Sarah snaps and remembers the feeling of Randy and Laura, it''s going to be bad.

    I see texts from her and sigh. She is finally telling me about the date. I close myself off and dial. I need to be the thing she fears in case we end up having to take her in.

    "Hi," she sounds nervous when she answers.

    "Hi. So a boy from the gym? Alone?" I try to sound annoyed like reading the text about the date is bothering me.

    "Yup."

    I hate it when she says yup. "I don¡¯t like it."

    "Okay." She pauses, "Uhm. See, I already told him yes."

    I want to tell her to stay home. I think I have the power over her to do it. But I don¡¯t. I behave myself. "Did you tell him where you live or what your cell is?"

    I can hear her gulping. I make her scared. I hate that but I want her to obey me; I let myself think it''s all for her safety but I know it''s not. Some of it is the sickness that lives inside of me.

    She finally talks, "No. You told me no one could know the number. I almost didn¡¯t even tell Shell, even when you said it was okay."

    That also annoys me, "Call her Michelle, please. I don¡¯t like Shell. It sounds infantile. Message me from the bathroom when you get there." I hang up quickly. I want to tell her I''ll take her out for dinner and make her happy, and she doesn¡¯t need to remember anything, but I know that¡¯s a lie too. Seeing her ball up and freeze, like she''s in the hole doing the drawings on the sides of the wall, is disturbing.

    The fear that she will freak out doesn¡¯t change the fact I want to tell her who I am. My self-control is getting worse, just like Jane said it would. Talking to her on the phone was probably a mistake. It all probably is. I walk over to the Chicken Shack and try to convince myself this is a mistake. Her pale skin and light hair make her look like an angel. I just have to keep telling myself she is one. Too sweet and innocent for me. She''s normal, at least she will be.

    The server gives me a sexy smile when I get inside of the packed Chicken Shack, "Table for one?"

    I nod and try not to imagine her face down and ass up. It¡¯s a hard habit to break. She gives me a once over, licks her lips, and brings me through the crowd to my table.

    "Jack on the rocks, please."

    She nods and saunters off with an overage of swagger to her walk. My eyes don¡¯t leave the door as a thousand images make their way through my mind. Punching Sebastian in the throat and being the guy she''s meeting. Grabbing her and holding her tightly to me as she walks by, and of course, punching Sebastian again when he tries to pull her back. My drink is there with a menu before she arrives. Sebastian is still outside standing there, waiting for her. He should have left already but he hasn¡¯t. I hate that he''s a nice guy.

    Through the glass door, I can see his back straighten as she walks up. She looks plain, and yet, somehow amazing. She smiles at him and my stomach aches for it to be for me.

    He opens the door and I see it instantly. His hands grab her behind him, pulling her into him. He can''t see her seizing up. He can''t see her freaking out. His touch is repelling her. It would make me happy but she''s scared. I walked towards them but he stops and sees it. Before I reach them, he''s dragged her out again. My hands shake as I rip my phone from my pocket.

    ''She left Chick Shack. Find her and make her go home. She''s panicking.''

    Someone bumps me, my phone goes flying. The guy turns to see who bumped him, "Watch where you''re going, assho¡­" He doesn¡¯t get to finish his sentence.

    My knuckles burn from the bare punch. I step over the fallen guy, picking my phone up. People are looking at me like I''m crazed and Stuart has sent some shitty message, complaining about leaving his date with Michelle.

    The guy who never got to finish calling me an asshole, gives me a heated look as he stands up. I turn around and lean into him, whispering, "If you would like to finish this, I''m game."

    He swallows but doesn¡¯t say anything. I nod, "I didn¡¯t think so." I turn and leave the greasy hellhole.

    I can see her up the road. She''s talking. Sebastian''s hand comes down and takes hers. It stops me. I don¡¯t walk any farther, I don¡¯t want to see anymore but I stare. He points and she nods.

    He understands her lonely. The lonely that comes and freezes her, he gets it. He saw it and never ran away, like I expected him to. I wanted to be the knight in shining armor but he''s taken my chance and she''s brushed the incident off, instead of messaging me.

 Page 9

    I see Stuart pull up across the road, and take a step back. I can''t watch the rest. She took his hand. Jane was right, she doesn¡¯t need me as much as I need her. Stuart was right, she is stronger than we are.

    I don¡¯t know her as well as I think I do.

    I don¡¯t know what to do with myself so I walk for a long time in a daze, until my phone rings.

    "Hey." It''s Stuart with his cheesy, fake Wichita accent that he swears helps keep him in character with them.

    "Is she alright?"

    He sighs, "She''s fine. She went to some fancy place and ate and went back to her room. She''s fine. She and Michelle are good in there. But dude, for reals, my balls are burning. They are so blue, I can barely walk. I''m picking Michelle up in like thirty minutes. I''ll have her back in no time, okay?"

    I feel spacey and lost. I nod and mutter, "Sure." I have to map myself back to the car. I call her and get my angry act on; it''s not hard. I am angry, but it''s with myself.

    "Hi," she answers sounding strong and amazing.

    I snap, "You don¡¯t go to restaurants with boys that you haven¡¯t cleared with me first." I''m angry for petty reasons.

    "I didn¡¯t. You knew what I was doing." She sounds angry, I like that.

    "Don''t play games with me. You won''t win. You specifically told me you were going to a chicken place and never went there."

    She stammers, "I''m sorry. I should have called and told you we were changing places. I just¡­well¡­I had an attack and had to leave the first place."

    She sounds weak again and it softens me, "Are you okay?"

    She pauses and sighs, "No. I had it right in front of him. It was humiliating."

    "I''ll call the doc. She''ll want to see you." I hate that she has to see Jane, but I want this over.

    "Whatever," she says.

    I hate that, "Don''t say that. It''s rude."

    She doesn''t say anything.

    I clear my throat, "If you''re going to date, and Stuart is dating the ever-lovely Miss Monkton, then the rules are changing. You will not date on the same evening."

    I can almost hear her frown, "What if we have a date planned for the same night?"

    I see my car and sigh, "Then he cancels his. You will remain in the dorms if he and Miss Monkton are out. Are we clear?"

    "Yup," she sounds pissed again.

    "Yup, is piss-poor English. Goodnight, sweet dreams."

    I have never said that to her before. I hang up like always and just stare at the phone. I am losing my strength and control.

    I drive to the campus and follow someone into her dorms. I slide down the wall and sit in the hallway outside her room with my iPad and wait, listening to the sound of her TV. I''m exhausted, but I know how scared she is. If she knew I was sitting outside her room, she would feel better but she can''t. So I just have to sit there and hope she can be strong until Michelle comes home. I know what happens to her at night.

    I message her, ''Go to sleep.''

    She texts back, ''You first.'' It makes me smile.

    I grin as I text her like we''re normal people, ''I am sleeping.''

    ''What are you dreaming about?'' My stomach aches when I see her response. She is being friendly.

    My fingers don¡¯t stand a chance. They know they shouldn¡¯t text her the one word they want to, but they do it anyway. ''You.''

    Her room is nearly silent. She doesn¡¯t move in there or answer back for a few minutes. ''What am I doing? In your dream?''

    Thankfully, it''s the right amount of time I need to get my head back on straight. I can''t ever be the person she needs. I clench my jaw and text back, ''Sleeping and not annoying the living hell out of me.'' I stare at the phone, hating myself as I type, ''Night.''

    I stay as long as I have to, which is all night. My eyes flutter a few times, but I can stay awake for long amounts of time. I used to have to.

    Michelle comes home in the wee hours of the morning, about ten minutes after Stuart messages me to tell me he is there to drop her off. I stroll out to where they''re kissing goodnight and wait for her to get out of the truck. From behind the tree, she can''t see me, but I can see the satisfaction on her face. Stuart also looks happy. I can''t interfere in that, as much as I want to. I can''t. I love seeing him happy. He''s the only brother I ever had and he never lets girls get to him. He bangs and moves on, as he so eloquently puts it. He is my family, the only one I have ever really had.

    Sometimes I think I replaced Em with him. I walk to the truck as Michelle walks to the dorm door. I get in and give him a look, "No more dates on the same night, okay?"

    He nods, "Alright."

    "You have a good time?"

    He nods but his face doesn¡¯t have any of the bliss it did before, "You look wiped. You been here the whole time?"

    I yawn and nod, "Yeah. I need some sleep."

    He chuckles, "You are taking this to a dark fucking place, man. I got the next watch." He takes us home to my place. I crash instantly and sleep like the dead.

    When I wake, Stuart''s passed out on the sofa. I frown, "Stu, where is she?" The hallway camera is annoying. I can''t see anything but her door. I text her.

    ''Where are you?''

    She doesn¡¯t respond, it goes to voicemail. The message doesn¡¯t deliver. I swallow hard. "Stu, where is she?"

    He opens an eye, "What?" He pops up, "Oh shit, man, I fell asleep. Sorry, dude. She''s probably there still."

    I clench my jaw, "WHERE IS SHE?"

    He puts a hand out, "Breaths. I''ll find Michelle."

    He texts and shakes his head, "Michelle left her in the room sleeping. She''s probably still there."

    "FUCK!" I start sending text messages. Not great ones.

    ''Where are you?''

    ''Why is your phone not receiving the messages?''

    ''I am going to send you back to that fucking orphanage if you don¡¯t answer my god damned messages!''

    ''WHERE ARE YOU?''

    ''THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT WHEN I SAID I DIDN''T LIKE THE DATE! IF YOU''RE HURT SOMEWHERE AND I CAN''T FIND YOU, YOU''RE IN TROUBLE!''

    Stuart waves his hands, shouting at me, "SHE''S IN THE SHOWER. MELLOW YOUR SHIT. MICHELLE IS GETTING HER NOW."

    I growl, "IS SHE WITH HER NOW?"

    He nods, "YES! Now chill out. Stop yelling at me. In two years we haven¡¯t slipped up once. Dang dude, it''s too early for this shit."

    I see my messages start to deliver just as she phones. I feel like I''m going to explode, "YOU EVER TURN THAT DAMN PHONE OFF AGAIN AND I WILL COME AND GET YOU. NO MATTER WHERE YOU ARE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

    I hear the silence and the panic, and then the tears. She can''t breathe and I feel like shit. She doesn¡¯t know why I worry. She doesn¡¯t know that I lost her once and it cost me everything.

    In her world, she is fine. This is fine. She hasn¡¯t ever been missing before in her world. I take a breath and speak softly, "I''m sorry. I''m sorry. I was wrong to shout like that. You scared me. I have to know where you are."

    She doesn''t talk. She whimpers slightly.

    I whisper almost, "I can hear you breathing. I know you¡¯re upset. Close your eyes. Just like Doctor Bradley says. Close them and find the peace and gratitude."

    "You''re an asshole," she whispers. A laugh bursts from me. It''s huge progress for us both.

    "Don''t turn it off again, okay?" I mutter.

    "Whatever."

    I sigh, "Come on. Work with me here. It''s all for your benefit."

    "Whatever."

    I think she''s angry. I have yet to see that. Emotions beyond fear, from her are amazing feats. "You mad?" I ask, trying not to sound too amused.

    "Yup."

    "Good." I hang up and smile.

    Then I remember the texts and quickly send her a message, ''Ignore the bad messages, the early in the morning ones. Got a bit desperate.''

    I look at Stuart and wince, "Sorry."

    He shakes his head, "I know."

    And he does. He''s the only one.

    He looks exhausted. I nod, "Go back to bed. I''ll take the next watch."

    He shakes his head, "No. We gotta go work out."

    I sigh, "Alright."

    I want to say no, but I know she has classes all day and Michelle will be with her. I need to get work done and work out. Stuart and I learned early on, people like us have a need to work out. It''s a dark need that can''t be filled by anything other than full-on exertion. We did CrossFit for a while but boxing is the best.

    I never noticed on the drive over to the gym he was quiet, but I detect it in the ring. He''s pussyfooting around and barely taking shots. I pull back, watching his face for a second.

    "What?"

    He shakes his head, "What?"

    My eyebrow cocks instantly, "Really? I''ve known you for fifteen years¡ªthat¡¯s the best lie you''ve got?"

    He snorts, "She''s going to a club tonight, man."

    I turn for the ropes-car-dorms-hostage situation but he grabs me.

    "No, she needs this."

    I swing at him but he jumps back, laughing, "This is the journey. Me and you have both been down this road, bro."

    Flashes of me and Stuart in bars screwing chicks in bathrooms fills my mind. My eyes widen. I shove him and jump the ropes. He tackles me into the wall. I shove him off but he jerseys me and drags me down the hallway bent over.

    He tosses me into the change room, making me stumble over a bench. His face is red when he points his glove, "Stop this shit."

    I shake my head, "I can''t let her go to a bar. She can''t. She''ll freak and panic, and have an attack in front of everyone, and that will set her back further. She cares so much about how she seems to them all."

    He nods, "I know." His dark eyes cloud over, "Who knows about the lonely better than me?"

 Page 10

    I try to catch my breath but I can''t. My chest is so tight and heavy. I feel like pulling my skin apart to free the white noise and the buzzing inside of me.

    I slump onto a bench with my head in my gloves. He sits next to me.

    "I know, Eli. Her journey doesn¡¯t have to be ours. She can make it whatever she wants afterwards but you gotta detach. You''ve been balls to the wall for two years on this shit. She has done nothing but prove she is a responsible girl. She''s smart and resilient and strong. She''s stronger than us. Remember us at this point? We were crazy."

    My eyes won''t open but I nod, "I''m going to the bar. I can''t have her out and not see her. I need you outside with the truck."

    He nudges me, "Stay out of her sight."

    I nod, "I know."

    His look grows concerned, "Do you love her?"

    I can''t lie to him so I don¡¯t answer.

    Chapter Seven

    She looks beautiful. She is the most underdressed girl in the group of them, but she''s beautiful all the same.

    Her eyes are wide as they approach the line up. Michelle says something to her and her face flushes instantly. She looks like she might run, but instead, she pulls her pants down to her ass crack and hikes up her shirt to the bottom of her breasts, showing almost everything.

    Stuart''s hand slaps across my chest, pinning me to the seat, "No."

    I don¡¯t take my eyes off of her, "What the fuck?"

    He laughs, "They won''t get in the bar without her looking like meat, man. That bouncer ain¡¯t gonna let some chick in jeans and a tee shirt stroll past the line."

    I take a deep breath but it becomes a growl. A guy behind her is touching her, pushing himself against her.

    Stuart shakes his head, laughing, "You have to breathe. She just needs to get in. Sarah ain''t no fool. She ain''t gonna let some random rub against her."

    She disappears into the bar like she''s in a conga line and buddy behind her is making me ready to murder someone, him mostly.

    I climb out and give Stuart a look, "Be ready. She''ll be here in fifteen."

    He shakes his head and points with a cocky smile on his lips, "She just pulled her pants to her ass crack to get in a bar. She''s gonna be fine."

    I slam the door, strolling up to the bouncer.

    He gives me a look but the hundred dollars I place in his hands puts a smile on his lips, "Well, come on in."

    I nod and walk past him. The club is the same as all the others. A girl in a miniskirt tries to eye fuck me from the bar. I can count the seconds I''ve got, before she ties the stem of the cherry she''s sucking into a knot. She saunters over, sliding a hand up my chest, "Hi there."

    She smells of insecurities and booze. I pluck her hand from my chest, still scanning the room, "No, thank you."

    She scowls, "Screw you."

    My heart stops, my girl is dancing and throwing her hands in the air. Her clothes look normal again but her hair is down. I shake my head and mumble, "No, thank you."

    The trashy blonde leaves in a huff. A brunette with huge, glossy lips walks up to me as I lean against the bar, hiding in the corner to watch only.

    The brunette nudges me, "You look grumpy. Want me to cheer you up?"

    I glance at her, trying not to think about those glossy lips and where I would like them wrapped. I shake my head, "I like being grumpy."

    She grins wide and flutters her lashes a little, "I like you grumpy too."

    Shit.

    I turn, waving at the bartender, "Scotch, neat." I look back at the brunette and know she could make the noise stop. The sound of the buzzing inside of me almost craves her. She steps closer as my drink lands in front of me, and picks it up. She shoots the scotch back. My hand slips into my pants, pulling a card. I slip it into her hand before I really think about the choice I''m making. She plucks it from my hand and saunters off again, wiggling her perky ass in her black skirt. My face is tight with want and need.

    I wave at the bartender again. He places another scotch in front of me. I suck it back as fast as the brunette did and turn back around. My girl is dancing up a storm.

    She stops and leans against the rail around the dance floor. My body, still filled with whatever the brunette did to me, walks that way. I don¡¯t have control. It''s involuntary. I hate involuntary but she''s like a tractor beam.

    She looks at me nervously; it''s the first time in a long time that our eyes have met. She swallows and somewhere inside of me the bad thoughts I was having die off.

    "Want to dance?" What the fuck am I doing?

    "No, thank you." She shakes her head, looking scared but there is something else in those eyes. She stares me down, "Do I know you?"

    I look around the bar, trying not to panic, "I don¡¯t think so."

    She watches me and then it''s as if a light bulb comes on. I can see the recognition, "Are you him? Are you my guardian?"

    She is smart. Too smart.

    I want to laugh and tell her who I am; she''s too smart for me. Instead, I close it off, "Him who? What?" I roll my eyes, "I just wanted to dance." I turn and leave quickly, leaving the bar. My hands are sweating. My stupidity and desire are all consuming. It doesn¡¯t even make sense. I suit the girl with the luscious lips and the want to be punished. I suit the hard life I have; my girl is a delicate flower. She doesn¡¯t deserve what I am, the bad thing they made me into. The thing I made myself become, to forget the things they convinced me weren¡¯t true.

    I cross the road, walking past the truck, and head into the city. My lack of self-control with her is brutal.

    I don¡¯t even know how to get it back. She is running me without even knowing me. I dial Jane and cringe when she answers.

    "How is your evening?" Her patronizing tone makes me want to murder her.

    I sigh, "Great. She''s going to be fine. That Sebastian you hired, he''s perfect. They''ve hit it off and now she''s at a bar having fun and being reckless."

    "You can tell me I was right, I won''t mind."

    I scoff, "Well, lets not get carried away. I don¡¯t think you need me though. You don¡¯t need me to play the part. She is honestly, fine. A little fear here and there, but beyond that, she''s good." I don¡¯t say that she doesn¡¯t need me because I hate that. I need her so much. I hate that more. I need to be free of her.

    "Eli, you know you''re going to be fine even if she never knows who you are. You made it out of that hole too."

    I nod, "Yeah, but Em didn¡¯t." I end the call and pray the brunette calls me.

    She doesn¡¯t though, it''s Stuart who phones next.

    "I have her. She freaked. We''re driving." He hangs up quickly before she hears him.

    My stomach sinks, and yet, my heart feels something resembling my twisted joy. She needs me.

    I get to the dorms and sit outside her door.

    She is crushed but I''m not. I still see her tear-stained face staring at me, needing me the way I need her. She makes me brave, she always did. I couldn¡¯t carry her and Em so I had to choose. She just doesn¡¯t know I chose her; I always did.

    The floor of the dorm is cool, compared to the muggy heat of the early fall. Boston is one of those places where the switch hits and suddenly it''s freezing. The switch hasn¡¯t hit yet though. My dress pants are itchy against me.

    I could stare into space for hours, I have so many times. I could get lost in the nothingness I surround myself with. But she stops it. My back pressed against the wall of the room she is in, makes me real and grounded and purposeful.

    She is the reason and doesn¡¯t know it, doesn¡¯t know me.

    My phone vibrates, ''Michelle is coming!''

    I get up and leave the dorm quickly. Stuart is sitting at the curb waiting. His eyes are dark, they get that way sometimes. I think my girl makes him sicker.

    "She was bad," he says as he opens the back door. I walk past him to the passenger seat and nod.

    He sighs and closes the back door, "You annoy me. You hire me to drive you and her around, and yet, you don¡¯t act like I''m your driver."

    I give him a look, "I want details."

    He smirks but it''s the dead-eyes smirk I hate, "I need White Castle so lets get some food and talk."

    "Fine."

    "She was having a beer with Michelle and then that guy Dr. Bradley hired was there. I think she called his ass and told him what was going on, for real. Anyway, she flipped out, too much pressure, exposure, or whatever. She went dark, made me drive her around."

    I give him a softened look. He sighs and drives towards White Castle, "She and that guy are for sure gonna date, dude. She likes him."

    I nod, "I know. I wish she knew who he is and why he''s there."

    Stuart scoffs, "He''s there ¡®cause she''s hot."

    I give him a look, "He''s there because Jane asked him to be. I know she set this up."

    Stuart laughs, "You have had a hate on for her since you banged her. I told you that was a bad idea."

    I hate the wording ¡®banged her¡¯, but I have to give him that one. I banged the shit out of her.

    Her needs match mine. Doctor Bradley is a sick woman.

    I change the subject, "Well, we wait it out, when she needs us we''ll be there. This thing with this guy isn¡¯t going to last. She doesn¡¯t stand a chance at this normal she wants so badly."

    Chapter Eight

    Boston, December 1st

    Her lips wrap tight around me. I have to stare at the wall across from me. If I close my eyes, I see my girl''s face and it makes me want it to be more than getting my cock sucked in an alley. I want to see her lips and not the brunette on the floor in front of me. I grab the back of her head, thrusting into her mouth harder. A car drives past the alley, splashing water. I focus on the noise and my thrusts. I need it done. I don¡¯t need perfection, just completion. I hear her gag but I''m there. I push into her throat, making her eyes bug out.

    My eyebrows knit together as I blast the inside of her throat. I pull back a little, making her able to moan again and suck. The noise she is making is trying to distract my peaceful exhale. I bite my lip, feeling it leave me. I shudder and reach into my pants to drop the hundred-dollar bill in there onto the ground. I step away from her, doing my pants up and walk away.

 Page 11

    "I''m not a hooker, you fuck."

    I look back, "It''s for mouthwash."

    She flips me the bird and picks the money up.

    Regular women are easy. In the bedroom, they want to be told what to do, manhandled, and treated like a cheap slut. In the kitchen, they want you to help with the cooking and tell them the things they make are perfect. In public, they want a gentleman.

    The girl struggling in her too-high heels is no different than any other girl. She would make me happy when I needed to be.

    That¡¯s not the girl for me though. I don¡¯t like regular girls. I like one girl. The one I can''t have.

    My phone rings as I round the wet corner.

    "Hello."

    "Plan B is being put into action."

    I frown, "Jane¡­ are you sure? She seems like she''s over the guy you hired."

    She laughs, "I never hired him. Sebastian is incredibly wealthy. He didn¡¯t want money. He just wanted to meet her."

    I sigh, "Anyway, her grades are perfect. She went to that bar, she goes to the gym¡ªshe seems good. She''s been eating out a lot and in the cafeteria. I''m satisfied with her progress. I wish it was faster, but if we don¡¯t have to go to Plan B, I don¡¯t want to."

    I hear her sigh, "She is heartbroken and destroyed. She isn¡¯t over him. Eli, this isn¡¯t negotiable. She told him to leave her alone and has holed up in that dorm. You can be part of it or I can hire someone to play your part."

    I swallow, shaking my head, "I''m in."

    Memories flood me. My steps become stumbles. I hang up the phone and feel it fill me up. The white noise. The constant white noise.

    I stagger to the doorway of a building and sit on the steps. The cold, wet stair doesn¡¯t even bring me back.

    My own treatment is there. If I close my eyes, I can see the round cement with the drawings. I can see the way she looks when she brings the girl into the room. Through the little crack, I can see the way the girl looks scared.

    I didn¡¯t know she was an actress. I thought I''d been abducted a second time.

    I clawed and screamed and tried to save her, but it wasn¡¯t real. It was a movie they made for me. It broke me. I can feel the weight of the gun in my hand.

    I can feel the electricity course through my veins when I close my eyes. The wood indents where my teeth bite down on it.

    Doctor Bradley took the things that hurt me the most, she made them real and dangled them in front of my face. She made me see it, feel it and be it, over and over again. She took my safety and pushed me to the point of attempting to hang myself. Only when I gave up and tried to die, did she tell me the truth.

    The seventeen-year-old I was, rapidly became the child I had been when I lost her¡ªthem. Only then, would I confess to shooting my sister and being the one holding the gun. Only after they broke me, did I believe I had made up the girl in the room. The girl always touching the corners. The girl with the gun.

    I shudder, clutching the cement stair. I close my eyes, trying to get them to focus again and see the real world in front of me. Nothing is fake anymore. My world is real. It''s all about the girl who needs me, my girl.

    I wipe the sweat from my brow and look for something to move me past the stairs. I can''t get up on my own.

    The selfish bastards on the street don¡¯t move me. They don¡¯t do anything remarkable. They just walk and talk and float through their lives. They don¡¯t do anything that makes me feel anything. I need something special to make me come back from this.

    Stuart pulls up to the curb. He nods at me, "Am I carrying you in or are you walking?"

    I swallow hard and nod, "I just needed a minute." Seeing him makes me warm inside, but the words I speak nearly kill me, "Plan B starts this month."

    His eyes gloss over; I know his time in the cells is flashing in his mind. Selfishly, I relish in his pain. He makes it so I''m not alone. I find my strength in his weakness and stand up. He is pale and alone in his mind for a second. I walk around to the passenger side. When I get in we''re silent. We go home and pretend to be tired.

    The next day Stuart leaves to get my girl and take her to Jane''s office. It''s her last visit before we start. I have to mess with her a little bit first. I almost admit to myself I like this part. I like having this control over her.

    I dial her number and wait, "Hi." She sounds impatient. She has a lot lately.

    "You need to remind her that you''re still not sleeping, okay?"

    Her voice cracks a little bit, "How do you know that? Maybe I am?"

    I laugh bitterly, "I know you''re not."

    "How?" she asks softly.

    "Do as you''re told." I harden my tone.

    "K."

    She is trying to kill me, I swear it. I sigh, "That is a letter. It¡¯s not a word. Can''t you just speak like you have something of an education?"

    "I''m doing fine in school."

    "I know that. Nice work on the grades, by the way. I have to admit the straight A''s surprised me. Between the whatevers and the k''s, I figured you were doomed." I accidentally talk like I''m speaking with a friend.

    "Thanks."

    I sigh again, "Call me when she''s done. I want to talk to you about something important." I get in the car and drive over to Jane''s office. She wants to see me after she sees my girl. She wants to plot and toy with me, knowing she still has a little power over me. She was the one who stopped them from hurting me. She will always have that.

    I stare up at the window to the office I know she''s in. She''s there, talking about her feelings and wondering when, or if, she''ll ever feel normal again. She''s crying and telling Jane how she can''t sleep and she can''t live because she doesn¡¯t know how. She is stuck in the dirty house; in her mind, I never saved her.

    I get lost, I don¡¯t know how long it is or what day it is. I just know that she comes out of the building looking upset. She walks away from the truck and Stuart. I can see him and Michelle laughing and smiling. I sigh and dial her number.

    "Why did you leave the car?" I ask when she answers. She walks faster.

    "Why did you hire Stuart for a hundred thousand a year to drive me around?" I smile bitterly, it has started. Stuart has told her that to scare her. Jane must have given him his part.

    I sigh and act impatient, "He has a big mouth and my business with him is private. That just cost him his pay for a month. Why did you leave the car?"

    She ignores me and screams into the phone, "HOW DO YOU KNOW I LEFT THE CAR? WHERE ARE YOU? YOU FUCKING FREAK! STOP SPYING ON ME!"

    I hate what we''re doing to her but we need this anger to surface. If she can get mad enough we don¡¯t need Plan B. "Are you finished?" I ask calmly.

    "Yes."

    "Why did you leave the car?"

    She laughs, "Why did you hire a boxing UFC champ as my driver?"

    I laugh by accident and hold my breath until she starts talking again. "I wanted to be alone. She made me feel dirty. I didn¡¯t want to be with them.¡±

    I nod and give her the answer we have discussed, "Because I am a rich man and if anyone ever knew that you were my ward, they would hurt you to get to me. I need to know you''re alright. At all times. Stuart can protect you. I cannot. I am busy."

    She is silent for a second, "What? Wait¡­who wants to hurt you and me?"

    "My business." I snap.

    She takes a breath and mutters, "Can you find Sebastian for me?"

    "Why?" She isn¡¯t over him like I thought she was. Jane was right.

    Her voice sounds broken, "I need to tell him that I''m sorry. It''s killing me inside that I made him feel so awful."

    My guts burn. I almost whisper my words, "Do you love him?" Is it worse than I let myself see? Was I so busy watching her and loving her, that I failed to notice her falling in love with someone else? Not just a regular someone else either, Jane''s perfect choice.

    She answers me the way I would answer her, "I don¡¯t think I''m capable of that." I hang up the phone and know Jane is right. She is me, but a girl. The two of us together would probably cause the apocalypse, but I want her more than I ever have. I want to be incapable with her and make her capable because we are stronger than anything else.

    I want her to know that she isn¡¯t alone and the lonely isn¡¯t the only thing that can touch her.

    I swallow hard, acknowledging the process is the only way to crack the shell.

    Chapter Nine

    December 19th

    Stuart swings wide, clipping my chin. My head flies back, but I manage to come back with a strong upper cut when I catch my balance.

    He staggers slightly, winking at me, "Easy, boss. Don¡¯t want to mark my face before we even start. I need to look pretty in the beginning."

    I roll my eyes, trying not to let the acid in my stomach eat me up completely.

    The crazy is in his eyes. He''s helped on a couple and each time he gets a crazed look in his eyes. The adrenaline and anxiety are like heroin for Stuart. He lived, his brother didn¡¯t, he likes to suffer to make sure every cell in his body remembers it''s alive. He likes to fuck hard, fight savagely, drive crazily, and gamble with his own flesh and my money.

    His gaze narrows, "I see you doing it."

    I shake my head, raising my hands again, "I wasn¡¯t doing it."

    His stare gets dark from the furrow in his brow, "I can fucking see it, Eli." He points a glove at me, "We''re done. I hate that fucking face. Feel sorry for someone else. We lived asshole, remember that. I''m better, I don¡¯t need your pity." He climbs over the ropes, stalking off to change, and maybe trash the dressing room.

    Lance glances at me from the corner post, "You boys alright?"

    I shake my head. I''m tense and scared and forget to be cool for just a second. My lips break into a grin, "We''re better than alright." As long as he doesn¡¯t look too hard into my eyes, he won''t see the truth. He nods, "Shower up then, Eli."

    I nod back, "Yes, sir."

 Page 12

    I start to chew at the tape and climb over the ropes.

    Stuart doesn¡¯t talk to me again, even when I offer him gum. He takes it and looks in a different direction, never meeting my eyes. We change in silence.

    Finally I speak, "I didn¡¯t mean it."

    He shrugs.

    It''s his way of saying that it''s alright.

    I slap him in the arm, "Meet you in the parking lot."

    His crazed look reappears, "It''s going to be the best one. I know it."

    I shake my had, "I just think if we give her more time¡­"

    "No. She''s not getting better, man. She''s stuck. I was stuck. She needs this. Dr. Bradley may be ¡®Fifty Shades of Cray¡¯ but she knows her shit."

    I snort and nearly say something horrid, but I know he still feels grateful. I wish I could. I wish I was able to be appreciative for everything she did for me, but I can''t. She made me hold the gun, she made me say it.

    I sigh, "I''m going to make sure everything is ready. I''ll see you after Michelle leaves."

    He winks and strolls out of the room. I can see the swagger and know my sympathetic stare is still bothering him. He over does his manliness when anyone sees his weakness.

    I walk up the road to Columbus Park and lean against the chain-link fence. No matter how hard I try to fight it, I remember him the first time I saw him. He was lying about his age to UFC fight and getting beat to shit on purpose. His face was a bloody pulp. It makes me sick thinking about it¡ªthe crazed look on his face and the way he looked like he was having the time of his life. Jane led me into the crowd, looking out of place amongst the greasy and filthy patrons of the underground fights. She looked like a linen napkin in comparison to them all, clean and tidy and straight and anal. She leaned into my neck, whispering over the sound of the fists pummeling the crazy-looking guy in the cage and the screams of the crowd. She breathed the words into my neck, "He''s like you."

    His swollen eyes found mine through the chain-link walls. I watched as a grin crossed his lips and the final blow hit. He screamed as he went back. His nose had to be broken. He dropped to the ground, suddenly looking so small. The winner held his hands in the air, jumping up and down. It was then that I saw the real Stuart. He stood up, smiling through the blood that coated his face and started the real fight. Like the Hulk in comics, he needed to be angry to really fight. He needed to fear you to beat you. He needed something to drive his fists in anger. He could scrimmage but not fight for real, without anger.

    His fists fought fast and hard, not needing a break but driving forward. He was much smaller than the guy he was viciously beating but it didn¡¯t matter. The man had believed he held the upper hand. He didn¡¯t understand what a real fight was to Stuart. To win, he must come from behind. He must be chained to a wall, beaten and injured in ways people don¡¯t recover from. He must see his dead brother lying next to him, still chained to the wall but getting smaller every day. He must feel every lash of the belt in the hand of the janitor who took them from the schoolyard. Only then, can he touch that part of himself and rise above the pain. Only then, is he a champion in his own heart.

    Stuart didn¡¯t wait for the shock to stop silencing the crowd. He stepped past the unconscious man, walked from the cage and down the hallway. Jane took my hand, leading me after him into the dark tunnel where the change rooms were.

    We sat in awe and awkward silence as he showered and sobbed. I imagined him in there, huddled and desperate to be clean again.

    I knew that feeling. I knew that filth.

    She was right. He was like me.

    We have been together since and we will be together until we die, hopefully on the same day, like we had promised each other all those years before.

    My hands almost bleed where I grip the fence and stare out at the barren field and dirt they call a park. It feels like my insides, undeveloped and barren, but loaded with potential.

    I sigh when my phone rings and see it''s her.

    "Hello."

    I can hear Jane smiling with anticipation when she speaks, "Hello, Eli. You all ready for tonight?"

    I stare at the chain-link fence and nod, "I am."

    "I need you to be your usual cold and confident self. But use an Australian accent when you speak. It''s a trigger for her. In hypnosis she suggested it was an issue for her. I played a recording of a woman speaking with the accent and nothing happened, but when I played the man speaking with the accent she panicked slightly. It''s just another tool to break her." Her voice stops being so chipper when she speaks again, "I will need a near-sexual assault. I believe that''s loomed over her head the entire time, and somewhere inside of her, I think she feels inadequate that Randy never touched her that way."

    I grimace, "Jane¡­ Jesus."

    "Eli, he raped and murdered every little girl he came in contact with, apart from Emalyn and Sarah. Deep down, I believe she wonders why he never did. She no doubt wonders if something is wrong with her for him to have left her alone."

    I close my eyes, "Something is wrong with you. No child would think that."

    "You have no idea what a child will consider affection after years of neglect. Well, I guess that''s not entirely true, is it?"

    My tone goes to the dark place, "Fuck you, Jane." I hang up the phone; I can''t hear any more of her hateful digs.

    The Aussie accent is fine, but I will not try to hurt her further than she has already been hurt. She is a damaged girl. I shudder and turn to walk up the road to where I parked. I don¡¯t feel cold and confident. I feel like I''m in that damned hole and I''m watching her try to find the corners of the wall where she''s sitting in the dirt. I feel scared and lost. I need her hand in mine so I have a reason to not be lost again. I need her to need me too, beyond being her benefactor.

    I drive to Jane''s office and sit in the parking lot, adrift in thought and mental preparation. Seeing Jane''s building makes me feel dirty, instantly.

    Stuart pulls up in the SUV. He doesn¡¯t look at me, he parks and stares at the building too. His treatment was the first one I participated in. I had drunk the Kool-Aid and believed the pseudo science behind it. I still believe, just not for myself. For Stuart''s I was excited to watch a human being be healed by being submerged into the environment they had escaped.

    I had thought because I survived mine, I could survive his.

    I was wrong.

    I gave up on him, walking out in tears and agony. He understood why, but I felt a type of shame I hadn¡¯t in a long time. He wasn¡¯t the first person I had given up on when things got hard.

    Sitting here next to him, I vow silently, no matter what she needs, I won''t give up on her. I failed her once.

    I climb out of the car and get into the truck with Stuart. We sit in the silent vehicle for a few minutes, not needing to talk.

    Finally, he speaks softly, "You have to be strong, Eli."

    I nod. I can''t say that I will be, I don¡¯t know that I''ll ever be strong.

    "If she isn¡¯t completely broken down, ruled and afraid, she might not crack." He turns and gives me a smile, "It was hard to watch me crack. You sure you got this?"

    I hate how excited he is. I sigh, "I don¡¯t have much choice. If she doesn¡¯t get better, I won''t either. She''s my only chance at redemption."

    I see his eyes fight the tears in them. For the first time he''s being honest with himself. He nods, "You never walked out on me, dude. I couldn¡¯t watch some old man¡­" He gags and takes a breath, "Hit you either."

    My eyes water, "We don¡¯t know what she''s seen or been through. Jane thinks she knows everything. We don¡¯t know what''s in there."

    Stuart shakes his head, "We''re all the same. Scare the shit out of us and we comply. I don¡¯t know about her, but me and Sam learned early on that we got beat less if we just let it ride."

    My stomach curdles. I shake my head, putting my hand up. He stops himself from whatever he''s about to say. He takes deep breaths. He never says Sam''s name. Neither of us said their names ever. I''ve gotten better than him at it, but in my case, Em died in an instant. She didn¡¯t starve in front of me slowly.

    He clears his throat, "Try to stay in character for her. We have weeks before Michelle gets back."

    I pat him on the arm, still not taking my eyes from the building, "See you on the other side, brother."

    "Yes you will," he grins and nods, "Don''t hold back either. I want the full, fiery temper."

    I snort, "You''re still such a sick bastard."

    He licks his lips and winks. I climb out and walk up to the building. The elevator makes me shudder, but I know she has cameras. She likes to watch me be afraid or hesitate. She likes it when I''m uncomfortable. She wants to be the one I turn to in my needs. She wants me.

    In a sick way, I like that. I like to watch her squirm in return. If I didn¡¯t fucking hate every ounce of her, we would be quite the pair, taking turns being on top¡­being the one getting fucked.

    She makes me cold and confident.

    I step into the elevator, clenching my hands, imagining the feel of my girl''s hands in my grip. I fold my hands behind my back, poking a finger into the corner to remind myself the corner means it isn¡¯t the hole in the ground.

    She beams at me as I step off, trying to avoid her gaze as my heartbeat is pounding from the small space.

    "Still angry with me?"

    I don¡¯t satisfy her with a response.

    She smiles wider, "You know I provoke you to help you in this role you''re going to play. It won''t be easy."

    "Nothing ever is with you, Jane."

    She points, "You asked for my help with this one."

    I nod, "I don¡¯t regret asking you, I just wish there was another way. I thought the treatments she was having would help her remember some of it. It''s been years, Jane, and she hasn¡¯t budged."

    She shakes her head, "She won''t go into the dirty house. She won''t open her eyes and take a look, even in hypnosis. She is blocking it. We need to put her back there on purpose. She needs the filth and disturbing torment and instability of it all, to remember it." She crosses the room, holding herself rigidly, with her chest out.

 Page 13

    I almost roll my eyes but I don¡¯t. I know she expects me to look at her trim figure. She doesn¡¯t realize I don¡¯t care what she looks like. I don¡¯t care that she is stunning and fit and crazy in bed. If I didn¡¯t have to bleed or fuck it out of me, then I wouldn¡¯t have sex. She doesn¡¯t understand I don¡¯t have sex or fight or cut for pleasure and joy. The joy is the silencing of the white noise. Somehow the trickle of blood or semen carries my crazy with it. It''s best if I can do both, bleed and cum.

    It''s sick. I''m sick. I sigh and look out the window. I''ll never be good enough for my girl.

    I''m fucking sick. I need to remember that.

    Jane passes me a pill, "Take this when we get into the truck to meet Stuart. It''ll give you a good burst of asshole, combined with a nasty dose of energy."

    I look at the blue pill in my hand. I don¡¯t need it, but maybe it''ll help me forget the fact I''ll have to rough her up. She''s going to see me hurt Stuart. She''s going to see the monster I am.

    I look at my watch, "Leave here in twenty?"

    She nods, "I know she''s like a sister to you but she needs this. She needs to be freed. The glass box she lives in is killing her. The helplessness is killing her."

    I shake my head, "I don¡¯t see her as a sister." I wish I did.

    Chapter Ten

    December 20th

    The blue pill never took my memories of it all and it''s not making this easier. I punch Stuart again. He screams out. He''s screaming for show. He rarely makes a sound when hit. We''re in the room next to hers. She has to be awake by now and listening.

    I push away the fear she feels, or the fact that the minute she was in trouble, she messaged me. I hit him again. He winces with that one and I know I hit too hard, but I don¡¯t apologize. I hit again. He cries out and it''s genuine. I''m hurting him but I don¡¯t stop, I hit again. He laughs almost, when he cries out loud again. The guys holding him up give me death stares. They think I''m taking it too far. They don¡¯t know Stuart.

    Jane shakes her head, "He''s had enough. If you hurt him anymore than that, he''s going to fight back. He''ll hate himself if the rage takes him and he hurts you."

    I step back, trying to push the anger down. I''m breathing heavily. Stuart shakes his head and dunks it into the sink of water. He comes back up, bleeding from below his eye. He grins at me and starts the sobs for show. The two guys drag him from the room and down the hallway past her room. I walk behind him. When they get farther down the hall, I open her door with the bright lights on in the hallway. I see her squint in the dark. I raise the tranquilizer gun and shoot her in the arm with a dart. She doesn¡¯t move or cry out. She is just like Stuart said she would be; she is resorting back into her survival mode. The four-hour dart will make her think she''s slept for days but it''s been hours. The deprivation of her senses also speeds up the time. 24 hours in a cell, fearing for your life, is like a week in the real world. It will speed everything else up.

    Jane''s heels click on the floor as she walks up, "She''s out on the camera. Get the wraps."

    Two women grab my girl''s sleeping body. They clean her, then wrap her in seaweed and mud, and put her in the steam room. She has an IV for fluids but only enough to survive. They need to make her weak and exhausted by dehydrating her and using the wraps and saunas to make her thinner than she is. It''s all smoke and mirrors. The mud is clean but it makes her skin feel gritty and gross.

    She is put back into the cell and closed in. It''s been eight hours. She thinks days, no doubt.

    When we close the cell again, I stay inside with her. I sit in the dark and wonder when she''ll wake up. I can smell her urine in the corner. I fucking hate this cell, always have.

    Her lips smack in the dark. She''s thirsty. She is having a hard time swallowing. She is probably freaking out, feeling like she might die.

    I don¡¯t move or make a sound.

    She slaps and rubs something on the cement. Stuart starts screaming again. He''s shouting and sobbing. He is screaming at them so hard, his words are barely distinguishable. I can feel the air in the cell get tense. Her body makes noises like she''s panicking.

    "Please God. Please save him. Please make them stop," she whispers into the darkness. I decide this would be a great time to scare her worse. She''s already freaking out.

    I move a leg along the floor.

    "Who''s there?" she whispers.

    I let a little chuckle out.

    "Who are you?" her tone sounds like she''s terrified.

    I smile bitterly and mutter, "Emalyn Spicer. Such an interesting name. What do you know about your life before Emalyn Spicer?" She doesn¡¯t move or speak so I continue, "I know who you are. It''s all very fascinating. I know you aren¡¯t Emalyn Spicer, are you? Fascinating indeed."

    The lock on the huge cell turns fast and the door opens. The white light blinds me. I can''t imagine how bad it is on her eyes. I hear them dragging Stuart back to his room.

    I look in my peripheral vision and see him being dragged back to his room. His hands and face are bleeding heavily.

    She gasps and covers her eyes.

    I get up fast and walk toward her, making as much noise as I can. She needs to be startled. I grab her face hard, "Such a pretty girl. I''d hate for you to not be pretty anymore." I laugh and leave the room. One of the girls slides a tray into the room quickly.

    I lean my back against the door, taking deep breaths.

    Jane looks pissed. I scowl and walk to her, "What?"

    She nods at the monitor, "She''s eating like an animal. She isn''t using her hands."

    I scowl, "She thinks it''s been days. She''s in there with the pee she took earlier. She isn¡¯t going to touch it. I wouldn¡¯t touch it."

    She gives me an evil glare, "We need her to touch it. She needs to get past this germ phobia."

    She finishes eating and finds her way back into the corner. Her eyes dart around in the dark. She looks like she''s thinking but then she starts laughing like a crazy person.

    Jane smiles like it''s music to her ears.

    I don¡¯t know what to think.

    Jane walks from the room, "Knock her out again, wake her up for an hour, and do it again. The next time she wakes, put her food in a deep bowl. Let''s see her get past that."

    She leaves us there to take care of the mudding and dehydrating.

    Chapter Eleven

    December 21st

    Jane storms into the room, whispering harshly, "What do you mean she mixed the tea with the food and drank it all?"

    I smile, "She''s smarter than you, apparently, and stronger than you thought she was. She hates that tea and she still did it. She is a survivor."

    Her eyes narrow, "She can''t get the upper hand. Guess today is torture day." A wicked smile crosses her lips, "You know how Laura Spicer punished her?"

    I shake my head, terrified it was the beatings I got for those miserable two days.

    "She used a belt to whip her feet. Sarah never tried to run away because her feet were always so sore. She told me that once while she was under."

    My mouth goes dry. She winks at me, "I have a paddle that''s similar to your favorite one. I was thinking you could use that one."

    My heart is in my throat. I shake my head, "No. I''m not going to beat her."

    One of the guys with Jane, one of the people like us, gets a grin, "I''ll do it."

    Jane walks to the desk in the corner and opens it. She grabs a paddle that looks very familiar, from the desk and passes it to him. The big guy smacks it against his hand. I look at Jane, "Why do we have to beat her?"

    Her brow furrows, "Eli, she is winning. She is adapting. She will never crack that shell if she doesn¡¯t lose the control she maintains."

    I almost get sick thinking about it, but I hold my hand out. Jane flashes a bright smile as she takes the paddle from him and puts it in my hand. It feels like I can barely lift it.

    I turn to leave but Jane grabs my hand, "She needs your name today too. Tell her we have a deal to offer her; make sure she understands what Stuart has been through. If she will take the beating, she will spare Stuart. She won''t take it. She is a survivor. She won''t help him but we need to lay that guilt on her. When she says no and lets you beat Stuart again, you beat him and then decide she should be punished for her cowardice."

    I scowl and go to the beating room. It''s more like a sexual fantasy room. I''m positive Jane uses it as her private fun room.

    She''s fucking sick too.

    I leave the paddle and go to my girl''s cell.

    I take a breath and open the door. She scrambles in the dark like a rat would. It''s creepy. In her mind, it''s been a week or more. In real life, it''s been two days. She is dressed in the dirty, tattered clothes that make her feel filthier.

    I speak softly in my stupid accent, "We have a deal to offer you today. One of you is going to be tortured. It¡¯s a live feed for your friend, well, benefactor. I suppose he never was your friend. Now Stuart has had his fair share. He has volunteered every day to spare your life."

    She doesn¡¯t say anything. Her eyes are wild like an animal.

    I continue, "He has been beaten, cut, flogged, whipped, burned, and endured water torture. We are offering you the opportunity to take his place?"

    It''s just like Jane said it would be. She stays perfectly still, just like she did in the corner. She is slowly becoming the girl from the corner. When she doesn¡¯t answer, I turn to leave the room. I''m closing the door when she finally speaks, "I will."

    I poke his head back in, "You will?" I lose my accent for a second, mostly from shock.

    She nods, "I will."

    I snap my fingers, "Clean her up. I want to see her skin blush when I strike it."

    She looks scared but she doesn¡¯t change her mind. The men come in, scaring her. She fights them but it''s futile.

    They drag her out into the hallway. She vanishes into the maze of hallways that always confuse the people that come here for this.

 Page 14

    I shake my head and walk to the room again.

    The inside of the room is large and too hot from the fireplace. It''s a nice room, with rugs in the middle of several couches and chairs. I look down to the end of the room at the bed and I gulp.

    The massive canopy is something from Jane''s perverse games.

    I sit down on the chair and pick up a book.

    I don¡¯t turn the page. I sit there, waiting and refusing to look back at the bed.

    There is a knock at the door.

    "Come in."

    One of Jane''s girls opens it. She nearly shoves my girl into the room and curtsies, leaving the room quickly.

    My girl is wide-eyed and clutching the robe she is naked under.

    I smile, "Go sit by the fire, warm up." I''m so nervous I forget to use my stupid accent. I can''t stop staring at her legs or the way her hair is dripping down her body.

    I hate that I like the fact she''s nearly naked and it''s our first time being in a room together in a long time. I remember why I''m here before I accidentally offer her tea, which I know she hates. I point at the fire, "Go." My tone is harsh.

    She backs up, looking terrified.

    "Go to the fire."

    She backs up more and then around the furniture. She drops to her knees on the thick rug and sits back on her heels.

    I watch her, panicking inside and trying not to just tell her who I am. I know she isn¡¯t ready for that yet.

    "Anything you want to talk about?" I ask.

    She gets brave with her look, "He will come for me."

    It makes me smile that she thinks I will save her. I nod, "I''m counting on it."

    "Why?"

    "We have business. Is it warm enough in here?" I don¡¯t want to talk about me, the me she doesn¡¯t know exists.

    She looks like she comes to terms with that. She adjusts too easily to bad things.

    "Are you from Australia?"

    "No. But I didn¡¯t want you getting your hopes up, if you recognized me. I''m good at accents." I quickly make something up. I sound like an idiot. Jane did that on purpose. I bet the stupid Australian thing never even came up in therapy, she just wanted me to look like an idiot.

    "That¡¯s why you asked me to dance in the bar?"

    I shake my head, "I wanted to see if you were the mess the files said you were." That is almost true.

    She looks like she knows how much of a mess she is, and still, the comment breaks her heart. She gives me a devastating smile, "Well?"

    I don¡¯t move until I remember the other thing Jane and I talked about privately, "I have a second offer."

    She shivers, "No."

    "You don¡¯t want to hear it?"

    She closes her eyes and shakes her head.

    "I''d be willing to forgo the beating if you were nice to me."

    She shakes her head harder.

    "You''d rather be beaten? Am I so repulsive?" I don¡¯t know how to feel about her hating me. "You would still rather have a beating, than have Stuart beaten?"

    She nods and I die a little bit inside.

    I stand and put a hand out, "Okay then."

    She gives me the sweetest look I have ever seen. She bats her lashes and sticks her lip out. It melts me, but I know it''s her survivor instincts. She''s the best at it. That look isn¡¯t for me, not really. "Those long lashes and pretty blue eyes won''t work on me. Come here."

    She hesitates, "I''m not coming with you. You''re going to beat me either way."

    I nod, "I am. But it will be much easier if you just come willingly."

    She gets up slowly and comes to me. I don¡¯t mean to do it, my body does it all on its own. She gets close and my hand stretches out to her.

    Her eyes twitch and I know she senses something about it is familiar. She puts her hand in mine. I wrap my hand around hers and pull her slowly down to the back of the room.

    She slows as we near the bed, "No. No. No. No. No. No."

    I am about to grab her and drag her from the room, running with her over my shoulder to a motel where we could hide out, and I could try to explain. Instead, I turn and give her a fierce look, "It will be much worse if I have to drag you."

    She lets out a sob but I push her onto the bed, "Remove the robe and scoot down to the bottom. Hang your feet down the end."

    "What is your name?" she whispers, terrified.

    "Does it matter?" I ask, hating that I have to give her my real name.

    "Yes. I need a name to hate you properly."

    My heart breaks, "Just call me Eli."

    She dies inside a little as she lets the robe slip from her shoulders and climbs onto the bed.

    I move her onto the bed better and strap her feet into place with the ankle boards. Her thighs are parted slightly. I attempt to avoid the view of her naked body.

    She grips the bedding, trembling with nerves as I hook the toe straps in and force her feet to flex. Some people love getting their feet paddled, I don¡¯t think she will be one of them.

    I mutter, afraid of my own voice, "I don¡¯t want to mar that skin. Not yet. I''m going to start the film now. Please feel free to be extra loud. It''s better for the footage. At anytime, you can ask me to stop. Stuart will be punished then."

    I grab the wooden bite and walk around to her face. I put the bite in but she spits it out right away. I lean in, whispering, "Unless you want to bite your tongue, I suggest you keep that in." She shakes her head, but I push it between her lips, "I will tie it on."

    She moans and cries and I fight the fact I might accidentally enjoy this. The bite in her lips and ties on her body are making me uncomfortable, in a good way. I walk back to the end of the bed, pick up the paddle and take a breath.

    Instantly, my mind is transported to a bad place. Seeing her tied and gagged and spread for me has me breathing heavily. Fuck Jane. She did this on purpose. I know she is watching to see if I let her off with a few whacks or just end up losing my self-control altogether.

    I don¡¯t.

    I enjoy paddling things like feet, a lot, but I maintain my composure.

    I look at those beautiful runner''s feet and take my first swing. The crack of the paddle against her skin and cry that leaves her gagged mouth, make me instantly hard.

    I hate myself but I hit her again and fucking love it.

    She screams and cries, but I can see what it''s doing to her body. Her cries become moans and her slit dampens. Her pussy lips spread slightly.

    Fuck.

    I hit her again. She doesn¡¯t know she likes it. She''s traumatized. I hit her again. I should be stopping, or lessening, but I can see she can take it. She tenses, expecting the next hit but I don¡¯t deliver. She squirms slightly, still in a daze from the agony.

    I wait until she is exhaling the tension and deliver the hardest one. She cries out and I orgasm.

    I hate myself. I drop the paddle and leave her unconscious body on the bed, tied and exposed. I leave her, like I did to Stuart.

    Chapter Twelve

    December 29th

    Stuart hobbles out onto the rooftop. His face is swollen and his ankle appears sore. I grimace, "What happened?"

    He shakes his head, "Got hit by a damned truck on the way over to get a sandwich. Hands are all cut up. I couldn¡¯t see out of the eye that was swollen still from the fight and stepped off the curb. Needed a sandwich and some fresh air."

    I wince, "You alright?"

    He shakes his head, "No. Got a couple more broken ribs and shit. I am out. Dr. Bradley wants me gone, says I pushed it too far and now this. She is setting up a germ water thing. That asshole Mike is doing the water torture. Next feeding time they want me to talk to her."

    I look down, "I think this is a mistake." I don''t want Mike to see her like being dominated. I''m hoping Jane missed it.

    "She seems like she''s in good spirits."

    I roll my eyes, "She is a master of finding coping mechanisms."

    "I gotta go back, it''s time for me to talk to her through the hole."

    I wince, "So water torture is happening after that then?"

    He nods, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

    I shake my head and my words are low, nearly a whisper, "Nothing about this is okay. I''ll be the one torturing her though. I''m the one who started this." I let him lean on me and lead him back to his cell. He''s silent as he slips back into the spot where the hole is. I know that hole too well. The little girl who was kept during my breaking was in that room. I shudder and feel it all for a second.

    I walk into the room with the monitors. Jane gives me a satisfied smile. I feel my lip twitch with the sneer it wants to give her, but I don¡¯t. I focus on the reason I exist. My girl is laughing to herself in the cell. She has lost it. I think she''s ready. Seeing her that way, confirms it for me.

    On the monitor, Stuart slides closer to the hole with his face and whispers, "Em." I hear a whisper. She doesn¡¯t move. She ignores him. He whispers again, "Em. Did they hurt you?"

    She must have heard it. She moves her head around, confused maybe.

    "Em. Over here." He waves his hand through the hole, not that it matters. She can''t see him. She can hear him only. We can only see with the night vision cameras.

    "It''s me dude. Stu." His voice is less of a whisper.

    She moves in his direction, dragging her injured body. It makes me sick for a moment, and then I remember the glisten of wetness, and the fact I had to change my pants.

    "Where are you?" she calls into the darkness, totally lost.

    His hand reaches into her cell, brushing against her. I see her respond nervously for a moment and then grip to him, like she did me once. I hate that he''s touching her, soothing her.

    "Where''s your phone, Em?" Stuart whispers.

    She shakes her head, "I put it down in a parking lot. Are you okay? Are you badly hurt?"

    He shakes his head "They said they want your phone. They need to reach him."

    She sits silent for a second. I smirk as she shakes her head, "That doesn¡¯t make any sense. The man with the faux hawk¡ªhis name is Eli. Before he caught me, I texted for help. I think my text went to Eli, like the guy holding us hostage is your boss. I sent it and then heard it deliver at the same moment, to his phone when he was chasing me. I think your boss is Eli."

 Page 15

    I give Jane a satisfied smile back, "She''s coherent. She''s not just surviving in there, she is strong."

    Jane''s eyes burn with annoyance, "We''ll see, won''t we."

    Stuart sighs loudly, "Well, frig. I don¡¯t know then. Maybe he is the dude. Maybe faux hawk is Uncle Daddy Weirdo. Eli seems like a weak name though. I always imagined he was cooler than a douche in sunglasses, in the dark." He is making sure he sounds defeated and exhausted. Little does she know.

    "I''m sorry." She sounds upset.

    "Em. What did you do that could possibly have made this happen?"

    He is making sure to call her Em, even after I confronted her with not being Emalyn Spicer. Her face seems to flinch at the name now. I point at the screen, "She knows she isn¡¯t Em and she is bothered by it. Memories are moments away."

    Jane snorts, "Where did you get your degree?"

    I ignore her and listen to my girl as she mutters to Stuart, "I''m sorry you''re hurt."

    He laughs weakly, "I fight for a living. This ain''t nothing. Trust me, I got this. I can take pain like it''s nobody''s business."

    They stay silent, holding each other.

    I envy him that.

    Jane claps her hands, "Well, it''s time then."

    I give her a glare, "This is wrong and you know it. She''s close."

    Jane shakes her head, "She isn¡¯t." She looks at Mike, "You dunking for me, big boy."

    I gag a little. I can''t imagine what else he dunks for her. Poor guy, has no clue how big of a mistake he has made. Jane only likes broken men she can treat like boys.

    I step into Mike''s face, "You want to sit back down."

    He tries his intimidating look but I don¡¯t budge. I don¡¯t need a look to scare him and he knows it. He steps back, "Have fun."

    I leave the room with the guards and head for Stuart''s cell. The test to see if she takes the beating for him is huge. She is still sore from the paddle; if she takes this, it''s a massive step for her. It means her emotional body is healing. Humans naturally choose to save others. Fear, terror, and abuse make us selfish survivors. Emalyn Spicer is a survivor. I knew that the moment I met her.

    The two guards open the door and grab at Stuart''s feet. They drag him slightly but my girl comes alive. She starts to shout instantly, "I''ll take it. I''ll take the punishment. Don¡¯t hurt him."

    Stuart coughs and weakly says, "Take me." His voice breaks. He is amazing at this. It kept him alive once.

    She slaps the concrete, "Take me. Please, I''ll do anything." Stuart kicks at the guards and shouts, "Shut up, Em. I got this."

    But her little voice is determined, "I did this."

    Stuart gives the guards a look, "Ignore her."

    They ignore him and drop his feet and walk out. Stuart is instantly on his feet, banging on the door. His screams fill her cell as the guards grab her. He screams desperately, "EM! DON''T DO THIS!"

    She starts to cry as they grab at her and drag her from the room. She doesn¡¯t even notice me smiling in the hallway. She doesn¡¯t know she is healed and better.

    I follow them to the room where the dunking will occur. It''s a grungy, little pot-cleaning room. I hate it in there.

    I take several deep breaths and walk into the room. This is a mistake but I act my part. I''m cold and confident. "I hear you chose to be punished, saving Stuart again?"

    She flinches nervously, "Why are you doing this?"

    I shrug, "I like to. Don¡¯t look so horrified. Everyone enjoys the feeling of making another person feel something. Everyone."

    Her face twitches from nerves and a desperate attempt to say no.

    I circle her and then lean into her neck to whisper, "Even you. You like the fact that I find you attractive. You like having that power over me."

    Her eyes flinch again, "You''re insane."

    I can''t help but laugh. She has no clue. "I think you like that about me." I start to get off track and take it to the place I swore I wouldn¡¯t. My hands move on their own, tugging at her robe. I need to distance myself from her. I step back and nod, "I have several choices for you today."

    I casually stroll to the large industrial sink and turn the tap on. The water rushes instantly, filling the room with noise.

    I look back at her and shout over the water, "We can do a little dunking in this sink."

    Her eyes widen. I see the thoughts moving inside of her head.

    I smile through the pain of seeing the germs have their hold on her, "I can paddle your feet again. I am really hoping that¡¯s the choice you make. I can go get Stuart and put you back in that comfy little cell."

    She instantly shakes her head at that one. I smile wider.

    "No to Stuart then? Okay. And last offer, you can be nice to me." I lick my lips like a pervert, "Really nice."

    I stare at her chest but she slowly lifts her trembling hand and points at the sink.

    I''m stunned, "The sink? Really. More appealing to put your face in my cook''s dish sink, than to let me make love to you."

    She closes her eyes for a moment.

    I start rolling my sleeves up. I catch her eyes on my tattoos, if only she knew how I ended up with them all. I nod, "Remove the robe." I hate what I have to do to her.

    "No. Please no." She begs and pleads. I almost wince but I manage to stop myself.

    Instead, I walk over to the door and bang, "Bring her back and bring me Stuart!"

    She shouts at me, "NO!" Her eyes are wild with fear but she''s sure she wants Stuart safe.

    I watch her take the robe off and force myself to forget about the paddling. It''s hard seeing her naked and scared. It creates a bizarre conflict inside of me. I lose myself for a moment and hold my hand out to her. She takes it. I squeeze, just for a second and then pull her to the sink.

    I turn the sink off and look down at the stuff in the water. She''s going to lose it.

    "Wait," she says hesitantly.

    "Yes?"

    She shakes her head, "I''ll do whatever you want."

    My insides jump but I have to say it, "Do you want me to make love to you?"

    Her face is broken when she responds, "Yes."

    I lean in, holding back my want to hug her and hold her, tell her she''s safe, and it''s all an act. I menacingly whisper, "I don¡¯t believe you." I slide a hand up her back and clutch her neck. I push her screaming face into the filthy sink.

    I lift her sputtering and sobbing face "P-p-please."

    I tighten my grip and push her back inside the sink. I close my eyes and try to ignore the sob that escapes my lips.

    She claws and fights. I lift her up. She''s panting and gagging and I''m dying inside. She is better. This is wrong. I am about to cry so I turn it on again, "Are you going to cry for me?" She doesn¡¯t know I am offering her an out. If she cries, I will stop.

    She shakes her head.

    I press my face against her cheek, "I want you to cry for me. Please cry."

    She fights but I push her back into the water.

    "Eli, the sex assault now, please." Jane''s voice comes over the intercom. I rub my hand across her ass cheeks. If I don¡¯t do it Jane will let Mike. Her body comes alive. She''s thrashing with fury. I lift her sobbing face from the water.

    I laugh to stop myself from crying, "Well, seems like we found the magic button." I step away, "Thank you for crying."

    I leave the room, gagging and desperate for a shower. I want her off of me. That¡¯s not how I want her.

    I leave again. I need air and cleanliness and a plan.

    I stay at my place for the night, plotting and pacing. I pass by the door to the room I don¡¯t like going into alone. The ornately-carved metal makes it different from the other doors.

    I pass by it several times, thinking about the dom and sub relationship. It picks at me until Stuart shows up.

    "Dude, where you at?"

    I stroll down the long hallway to find him looking normal in the kitchen. He''s eating the Chinese food I have in the fridge. I snort, "You don¡¯t even know if it''s alright to eat."

    He shrugs, "You talk to Dr. Bradley?"

    Fear creeps into my belly. Why is he out? Is it over? Did I miss the breakthrough?

    I calm myself and shake my head.

    He chews and nods, "You better go back. She''s gonna let Mike do the sex assault. Said yours was weak."

    "WHAT?"

    He backs up, "Tahoe is in the parking spot."

    I turn and run, taking the stairs. I''m not feeling sane enough to take the elevator.

    I drive like the world is ending and Satan himself is chasing me. I park at the front door and storm the building. The crew is settled in the main lounge. Jane is pacing, controlling the room like she does.

    I slam the door open and point, "Everyone out. GET THE FUCK OUT! LEAVE THE BUILDING!" They all stand, not looking at Jane, and leave. I grab the sweet girl who was forced into slavery at twelve, before human traffic agents found her. I grip her arm, "Back to the bathroom. You clean her and bring her to the room I paddled her in."

    She nods, not looking at me. When I release her, she runs away.

    Jane is leaned against the wall, "You make me hot when you get crazy."

    I stalk across the room, slamming her into the wall, "You are done. I want everyone out. No more."

    Her eyes light up with humor, "You think you can heal her?"

    I shove her back into the wall, making her moan. She sighs and smiles, "When she finds out who you really are, she''s going to hate you for this."

    I nod, "I''m okay with that. You see, Jane, I knew you were setting me up on purpose. I came prepared for that. The thing you don¡¯t know about me, is I''m healed enough to save others. I never put myself first. I''m not a selfish survivor."

    She shoves back, "You think what you''re wanting isn¡¯t selfish? You''re going to replace your dead sister with that poor broken girl."

 Page 16

    I slap hard. It''s not my finest moment. She staggers back, laughing and rubbing her cheek. She nods, "There''s my big boy." She starts to unbutton her blouse. I close my eyes and grab at my hair, "WHAT IN THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO TO ME?"

    She laughs again, "I want you, Eli. I thought that was pretty straightforward and obvious. I wanted you when we met."

    I clench my jaw to stop from gagging or pointing out that I was a kid when we met, "Leave or I will use the things I have to ruin you further."

    She rolls her head back, "What do you think you can do to me, Eli? What damage can you cause that hasn¡¯t been already? No one believes in my theory."

    Spit flies from my lips as I snarl, "I DID! I BELIEVED IN YOU! BUT NOW I SEE THAT WAS AN ACT!" She is doing the thing she likes to do. I shake my head and point, "I''ll bring you up on charges."

    I leave the room for the bathroom. The quiet girl, I don¡¯t know the name of, is in there. I smile at her, ¡°If Jane comes near you in front of Sarah, freak out like she is a monster who kidnapped you and forces you to work here."

    She nods and leaves quickly. I go to the room and sit. I don¡¯t know what to do with my hands so I get up and grab a book from the shelf. I don¡¯t even pay attention to the title, I just sit and hold it. It feels like eternity before she comes. I''m sure Jane has her hostage somewhere, and I am about to jump up and go find her, when the door lock clicks. She is led in with the same dead-eyed look on her face. It is defeat. We are back at square one with her, like I suspected.

    I grin, "I''ve seen that girl before. You ready to wrestle?"

    Her eye twitches but she looks like she has no clue what I''m saying or why I''m being so nice.

    "Go sit by the fire."

    She turns her back on me and goes and sits. I am stunned but I pretend to read whatever the hell is in my hands. I''m so nervous that I can''t turn the pages.

    I finally start to turn the pages, but I realize I am going too fast. I look down at her, "Want some water?"

    She doesn¡¯t move. I take a long drink and sigh, "That was good. Hint of lemon in it."

    Her eyes burn with hate.

    I continue reading and slowly start to realize it''s Dracula. I flip another page and have another sip of water. If looks could kill, I would be exploded all over the room.

    "Is there anything you want to know?" I ask over the edge of the book, trying to break the frost in the air.

    She doesn¡¯t waste a second, "Why am I here?"

    "I like you here. I like to read and know you''re close by. It''s comforting."

    Her face does that thing again that makes me think she knows me. She stops herself but still asks the question that makes my soul sing, "Do I know you?"

    I can''t stop my grin, "Do you think you know me?"

    I lose her gaze and she shakes her head, "I''m confused. You act like you hate me and want me to suffer, like this is personal, but you have Stuart convinced it''s about his boss."

    "Maybe it''s both."

    She shakes her head again, "It never was about him. It''s me. This is personal. You are doing this to me for a reason."

    I fold my arms, excited about the level head she is maintaining in the room where I beat the hell out of her and even made her like it. "What reason could there be? You''re Emalyn Spicer, right?"

    She instantly freezes.

    It makes me laugh, "I guess we both know that¡¯s not your name, is it?"

    She becomes the survivor for a second, "Why do you care what my name is?"

    I can''t say anything else so I get up and offer her my hand. She takes it like always.

    I ignore the conversation we were having and focus on the one that¡¯s going to change everything. "Which is it? The feet or you let me have you."

    She almost tries to tug her hands from mine but she doesn¡¯t. She speaks softly, "Feet."

    She climbs onto the bed after dropping her robe to the floor on her own. I blindfold her and she gets into position. I''m almost excited about paddling her again, but it''s got me worried that she is so compliant. I thought we were past this.

    Finally, as I have finished strapping her in and am taking my first swing at her feet, she screams, "STOP!" She gets her breath, "I will let you have me. Just do it."

    "You want me?" We are so close. I need her to be there for real. I need her to say it. I lose the hold I have on myself, "SAY IT!"

    It makes her lips tremble to answer, "I want you."

    I drop the paddle to the ground and look to the sky. Tears leave my eyes, thankfully she can''t see me. I free her feet and mutter, "Don''t move. Slip back up the bed to the pillows and lie there."

    I slip back across the room and sit down. I drink and pick the book up again. I flip the pages as tears of joy slip down my cheeks. She is there. She is at the brink. She chose to let me have her over pain, she made a choice. She didn¡¯t comply. She picked something and freed herself by becoming the person in the struggle who was in charge. She doesn¡¯t see it or know it, or understand it, but it is a truth. She has freed herself. She has been dunked and faced molestation and beatings and she is strong. I think Stuart was right about her, the orphan in her is strong. She has already faced things we never did, not after we were freed. I spent summers in the South of France and at high-end resorts. Stuart was taken in by his grandma who loved him more than anything. We never had to stay hard.

    I flip pages and take drinks and try to sound nonchalant about it all, but really, my heart is beating a mile a minute and I am out of my league. I don¡¯t know what to do next to break down the wall. I take my shoes off and walk across the room slowly.

    I sit at the end of the bed and pick up one of her feet. She must think I''m bizarre. What pervert massages feet. I turn my face away and spread her legs a little. Her breathing catches in her throat. It almost makes me look at her opening again, but I don¡¯t.

    I massage farther up her leg, slowly. I close my eyes and listen to her breathing. She likes it. Her wind is getting caught in her throat and her body is trembling. None of it is fear, it''s excitement. I turn my face and press a kiss inside of her leg.

    I lick and kiss a few times but she doesn¡¯t ever seem afraid of me. I don¡¯t know how to respond to that. I expected her to seize up and cry but she has spread her legs a little more. I get up and back away. It takes me a second to gain my composure. I walk around the side of the bed and whisper into her face, "Are you ashamed of yourself?"

    She shakes her head but I can see the blush on her cheeks.

    "What''s the worst thing that can happen right now?" I ask.

    She doesn¡¯t respond to me.

    "What''s the worst thing?"

    "You rape m-m-me." she stutters.

    I smile, "You asked me to do it. Doesn¡¯t that change things? You said you wanted me."

    She looks angry but I know it¡¯s at herself. She wanted me in that moment and she''s disappointed. I pull the blankets up over her. I am exhausted and afraid I am making mistakes. I walk away, opening and closing the door. She thinks I''ve gone. I tiptoe back to the chair I was in and sit. Her lip trembles; she shudders and begins to cry in heaving sobs.

    She rips at her blindfold and looks at me with those eyes that kill off every bad thing inside of me.

    "Why are you crying? You don¡¯t know, do you?" I ask her.

    She shakes her head. I lean into her, "I would never have hurt you like that, but if I had, it wouldn¡¯t have been the end of you. I need you to see that. You''ve survived everything else. So much more than any human can fathom. You think one act can destroy all the strength you have?"

    She shakes her head and closes her eyes. I climb onto the bed and curl into her like we did in the barn all those nights. I hold her to me and know that when the morning comes, I won''t leave this time. This time I will stay with her the entire time and save her.

    She sleeps and I formulate a plan.

    Chapter Thirteen

    December 30th

    I put her in the cell while she was sleeping and laid her phone next to her. Michelle and that Sebastian have messaged a lot. I wonder what she will think of seeing the outside world by way of phone. Sitting in the monitor room, I can see everything she does and not worry. I''ve locked up the entire floor and even gotten the young girl to leave.

    With Jane being gone, I can try the thing I always wanted to.

    She wakes, moving the phone and making noise on the monitor. The room lights up slightly, messing with the night vision lenses a little. I watch and can tell exactly the text she''s reading by the faces she makes. It''s horrible to watch her read their messages on her phone, but it''s the one thing she needs to realize how simple and easy her life was. She made it so big, she made the barriers so wide, but now, in that dirty cell, broken and frightened, she has to be able to see how easy it really was to just be her. Just be a girl at school.

    I know the agony she is living through. This is the part of the treatment I know all about. This is the part that sticks with you, appreciation of the simple things you overlooked, too afraid to rise each day and greet the world. I see those things, even more now that she''s part of my life. I can see the lost boy I was when I look at her. It fills me with a small amount of joy and pride to know how far I''ve come.

    I text her, hoping she''s as ready as I believe her to be, ''How are things?''

    She responds quickly, ''I hate you. How could you do this to Stuart and me? Why did you do this?''

    ''I need you to hurt and cry. I need those things from you.'' I wish I could tell her why but I can''t, so I will be the monster she fears and hates. The monster she needs.

    ''You''re sick. I''ll never cry for you again.''

    ''Don''t make promises you can''t keep.''

    She sits quiet for a while, watching the phone until the light dims and I can see her more clearly. She falls asleep but I can''t stop watching her in the silence of the empty room.

    My phone startles me and I realize I''ve fallen asleep watching her sleep.

 Page 17

    "Hello?" my voice is grumbled and tired.

    Stuart laughs, "When I said go there, I didn¡¯t mean attack everyone and kick them out. You got this or do you need an intervention?"

    I smile, "No, I got this. She''s there, dude. Jane doesn¡¯t want her to get better. She wants her broken and sick so I''ll be broken and sick too. Sarah is almost back."

    "I''m giving you the day and then I''m coming in."

    I nod, "Okay."

    "You understand I love you but I don¡¯t trust this shit. I know how you get."

    A chuckle slips from my lip, "I know. Thanks."

    "Be cool," he hangs up and I look at the sleeping girl. She looks so peaceful until a whimper slips from her lips. She cries and scrambles a little bit. I see her moving and feeling around. She''s panicking, and I almost take back everything I''ve thought about her being better, but she does the thing she needs to. She self soothes and comforts herself. She keeps away the lonely.

    "I''m not in the hole. I''m not in the hole," she whispers and shakes her head.

    The light comes on again from the cell phone. She messages me.

    ''I want to go home. I don¡¯t want your money and help. I just want to be free.''

    ''Where will you go?'' I frown.

    ''Women''s shelter? Convent? Anywhere I can to get away from you.''

    I laugh to myself, she''s getting saucier. ''That''s hurtful considering I am the only person in the world you have.''

    ''I would laugh. If I weren¡¯t sitting in the dark smelling my own piss and feeling disturbed and disgusted at the thought of what you''ll do to me next.''

    I don¡¯t want to play this game anymore. She''s ready and I don¡¯t need to scare her anymore. She needs the truth. The thing Jane doesn¡¯t want me to do. I dial and speak in the voice that is mine, the real me. The one she doesn¡¯t remember but knows better than any of the other faces I have shown her.

    She answers, looking dark and fuzzy on FaceTime. I smile, "Hi. Where will you go without me?"

    She shakes her head, "I need to go. Please. I can''t do this anymore."

    I nod, "Go to the door and wait. I will come and get you. It''s almost New Year''s Eve." I shouldn''t tell her what day it is. We need her to think she has been here for so much longer than she has. We need her to be lost in every way. But I gave her the cell phone, she must have looked at the date already. I turn off the phone and place it on the table, leaving it there. We will need to be alone, completely.

    I walk to the door, pressing my hand on the handle and taking a deep breath. She needs the truth, no matter how badly it will hurt, she will need it. I place my hand into the open space of the door and wait for her to take it.

    If anything should trigger her, it''s that.

    She places her weak little hand in mine and I pull her to the bathroom, "Clean up."

    She hesitates and then steps into the bathroom alone, maybe not completely seeing the freedom she is being given.

    I lean against the wall and watch the light under the door move as she does. Finally she comes out, frowning, "Were you there the entire time?"

    "I was."

    She scowls even more at me, "Scared I''d get away?"

    I laugh and stay just being me. I don¡¯t need to intimidate her anymore. I shake my head, "No. I stayed in case you were scared."

    Her apprehension of the real me is a bad feeling but I understand. I just hope she will too. She gives me a wide-eyed look, "Is this place like a whole floor of a building? It''s weird with all the hallways."

    I almost laugh but the dread of the things I''m about to say are too thick in my throat. I put my hand out for her. She takes it and I resist the urge to lift it and kiss her palm.

    I bring her to one of the actual sleeping rooms for the people like me who help Jane out. It''s a nice room, sort of girlie and soft. I think it''s the best choice for her. I turn and leave the room. I press my back against the closed door and try to imagine how I am going to say what I have to. I close my eyes and imagine the conversation. I shake away the thought that she will end up catatonic. She can do this. She is ready, I am sure. Pretty sure. I go back into the room to find her lying on the bed. I crawl up next to her. I look at her for a minute and smile. I take a breath and just say it, "There is something important we need to talk about."

    She shakes her head, "I''m too tired. If you''re going to kill me, just do it. I don¡¯t care anymore. I''m done."

    "You''re prepared to die?" I ask.

    She nods, "I am dead. You have killed everything inside of me."

    "Have you ever feared I would kill you?"

    She lies, "No."

    "Liar."

    She smiles but I keep going, "If you had one wish, what would it be?"

    Her answer is fast and always the same, "I don¡¯t know. To be normal, I guess."

    I kiss the top of her head, whispering in my head that I am about to give her that, if only she can let me get it all out. I don¡¯t say that to her though. I whisper, "You wanted to know why I cared what your name was?"

    She nods and a tear slips down my cheek, "My sister was named Emalyn. The Spicers were the couple that kidnapped us both."

    She freezes completely and then whispers back, "You are the boy in the hole? From the house? Eli? That was your name?"

    I nod, holding back my sobs but the tears will not be contained.

    The reality hits her like a ton of bricks, "You saved me. I killed your sister."

    I wrap around her and hold her as the dam breaks and the flood of emotions and painful reality break their way in.

    There is no going back. From here, there is only truths and harsh realism.

    Chapter Fourteen

    I feel her shifting on the bed but I keep my eyes closed. I''m exhausted from staying awake and waiting to see if the lonely comes to claim her. She moves, and for some reason, I feel her eyes on my face. I smile a little and sigh, "We haven¡¯t slept beside each other in fourteen years and it still feels the same."

    I open my eyes and kiss her sweet face. The tears are flooding her eyes. I kiss the one that gets away. I can''t help but be completely me with her now. I don¡¯t have any acts left in me. I just want to be real. I kiss her whole face except the place I really want to. It''s not the right time for that kiss and I haven¡¯t earned my way into her heart. I probably won''t ever. I whisper, "You''re safe now. You remember it all. You''re safe."

    She is still in shock and I know all the walls are crumbling, leaving a haze in her mind.

    "I never blamed you. I saw what was happening. I saw you make the choice to try to save her."

    She shakes her head, "I can''t do this. Put me back in the cell."

    I hold her tightly, "No. You need to tell me the things you remember. I know you remember them now."

    "The Grand Canyon." The words sound like they actually hurt her.

    But I don¡¯t give up, I keep going, "What else?"

    "The dirty house."

    "What else?"

    She closes her eyes, "My name."

    "Do you see why I brought you here?"

    She doesn¡¯t answer, I don¡¯t think she can.

    "Why?" I ask forcefully.

    She loses it a little, "To punish me for helping them. For killing her. For stealing her name and pretending to be her."

    Her answer instantly breaks me inside. I grab her face and make her look at me, "No. No, you''re missing the point." I let her go and get up. I don¡¯t know how to take the shame of what she is feeling. I pace, "Don¡¯t you see? All of it was so obvious?"

    She shakes, both her head and body. I feel the pity for her leaving me. I grab the bed and shake it, losing my hold, "GOD DAMMIT! I''M TRYING TO SAVE YOU! I''M TRYING TO FREE YOU!" It takes me a minute to get the control over my rage back. I take a deep breath, "All of this has been planned to free you. You were never going to get better. You were always trapped in that house. You never left it. You took her life and never lived it. She would have wanted you to live, Sarah. You''ve hidden it all away and punished yourself for something that was never your fault. Don''t you see that?"

    I don¡¯t realize I''ve said her real name until I see her start to freak out even more. She yanks at the covers and twitches. I point at her, "You will tell me the story. Now you choose how you want it. By the fire, in the dark cell, in the tub, or in the bed."

    "The dark."

    I nod and hold a hand out for her. She gets up and takes it. I drag her to the cell and close us both in with the smell of her urine. I can''t sit. I''m wired and scared, and this is the part I have dreaded more than anything else in the world. I pace and shake my head. My lips quiver when I see it all again. We are about live through the whole visual and the dark of the cell, and the smell of the corner is making it more real.

    I know the dead look is in her eyes when she talks. She sounds dead inside, "I think they had been doing it a long time. I don¡¯t know if I was their kid or if they took me. I don¡¯t have very many memories before you came. I remember other kids at the house though. They would stay for a short time and then be gone, and Randy would start to get edgy and angry. I was in the hole before we met you and Emalyn. She pulled back the lid and dragged me out. Said we were going for a car ride."

    I hear her break as she speaks. She takes a breath and continues, "We got to the Grand Canyon the next day, but I never got to see anything. They dragged me around the whole time. Pulling me after them. He picked her. He asked me if I wanted her too. I did. I said I did. I didn¡¯t want to be alone anymore. I never saw you, just her. She was shiny and pretty. Then they dragged me back to the car. Laura took me home and Randy stayed at the Grand Canyon. The next day you guys were there, with me at the dirty house. She was allowed to play with me for a couple days. I shared my bed with her and my dolls but she didn¡¯t want them. She cried. She cried all the time."

 Page 18

    I can''t make her say it all alone. The silent tears are streaming my face but I manage to speak, "They put me in the hole. He kissed Em and made her cry. I remember you. You played alone and quiet in the corner. Always in corners. You acted like you didn¡¯t hear the screaming or the crying, but I saw you. The panic and the denial. It was all over you. Emalyn wouldn¡¯t stop screaming. You put the toys down and I saw you go inside. I heard the shot and the screams. I couldn¡¯t get out of the hole and you were screaming. Laura was screaming. I finally got the board off and scrambled out of the hole. When I got inside, Randy was hitting you and Emalyn was dead on the bed."

    Her words are muffled by heaves, "I missed. He was so big and fat and I missed. Somehow I hit her. She was so little compared to him."

    I can see her little face, so shocked and stunned by the fact she''d missed and killed Em. I mutter, "I grabbed the gun from the floor and fired the shot you had meant to. I turned and fired another shot. Laura dropped to the floor. I dropped the gun."

    She whispers blankly, "You saved me. I tried so hard to save her and I couldn¡¯t."

    I rush to her, dropping to my knees and taking her hands desperately, "But don¡¯t you see, you did. The thing he was going to do to her would have been worse. He would have killed her anyway. He killed all the others, Sarah. All of them. We lived. We made it out."

    She cries so loud it rings within the concrete walls, "I''m so sorry. I''m sorry."

    I wrap around her, cradling her, "We ran and hid. We stayed together in that barn for all those days, remember?"

    She sniffles, "I went to sleep and you were gone. Where did you go?"

    "I went for the police. I told them everything. I tried to come back for you. I tried to find you. But you were gone."

    I can almost hear her panic, "Did you tell them about how I shot her?"

    I nod, "I told them what you were doing and what was happening. They saw it all. The other bodies. The hole. Everything."

    Her body tightens, "I have to turn myself in."

    I almost chuckle at the ridiculousness of it, but I know that is her fear left over from being six and shooting someone. "They know who you are, Sarah. You''re the only one who doesn¡¯t."

    In the dark, she takes that final step and whispers, "Who am I?"

    My heart is elated. Jane has a room dedicated to her. She always does. She only works one kid at a time. I get up and drag her but she pulls back, "Eli. I am so sorry I stole her name. I didn¡¯t want the police to know who I was."

    Her lips stick out, her eyes are puffy and devastated. I place a finger on her lip, "You were a six-year old. You were barely alive when I met you." I kiss the top of her head and drag her down the hall.

    The office is a mess, as always. It''s Jane''s little secret; she''s a hoarder when she''s on a case. I sit and rifle through the stacks of shit. Finally, I find it. It takes me a second to pass it to her. It still breaks my heart.

    "Two-year old Sarah Mastermen missing from Chicago Hospital."

    She frowns at the paper, "Me? I always assumed I was a Spicer like them."

    I shake my head, "No. You had some teeth removed and filled and they stole you from the hospital. It was a simple surgery. Your parents were in the waiting room."

    She looks at it and I see the clouds of emotions rolling across her face. Finally, she mutters, "Do they know?"

    I nod, "Yes. They know the basics. You''re alive and not ready to see them. We needed to crack the memories before we risked telling them anything else. In case they came looking for you, before we had the chance to do all of this."

    "They wouldn¡¯t want me like this. I''m a murderer," she is still defeated.

    I ignore it and focus on the positive, "You are so close, Sarah. So close to fixing it all. Stop going backwards."

    She frowns at the wall behind me, "You were tracking the things wrong with me?" I ask, walking to the wall.

    "Doctor Bradley is the best in memory recovery and PTSD. She helped me. She deals with extreme cases of hostage situations or kidnappings. People like us who need to learn to see the world again. Who need to see that the things we''ve done aren¡¯t who we are. Sometimes you''re made to do something you don¡¯t want to. That doesn¡¯t make you guilty of it."

    She glances at me, "You knew where I was all along? You''ve been watching me? You left me there all this time?"

    I fold my arms around myself, "No. I didn¡¯t know where you were. You made it to Clovis before the police could find you. I had searched high and low for you."

    "How? How did you find me then?"

    "Emalyn is a pretty rare name, but combined with the name of the people who ruined my life. It was a breeze once I saw it. When you wrote that article in eleventh grade about the wastewater management, it came across my desk. Someone in one of our companies thought it was an interesting article and take on things from the perspective of the youth. I almost died when I saw that name. The combination. I flew out immediately."

    She is astonished, I can see it. She looks around, "My article? From school? What do you do?"

    "I''m a business man, I work with my family. This isn¡¯t our office. It''s Dr. Bradley''s."

    "How are you so rich? None of this is making sense. Not that it ever has."

    I almost sigh and tell her that is a story for another day, but I just answer the question, "I was born rich, Sarah. Emalyn and I were with our parents that day because they were telling us they were getting a divorce. It was our family''s first outing together in months. We were so excited. We didn¡¯t know they took us there to tell us the bad news." I take a breath and just finish the rest of the timeline, "I spent a couple years watching you. Studying you. I know everything about you. I know what you hide and who you are. I brought your file to Doctor Bradley, but she was scared you were completely submerged in the Emalyn Spicer character you had made. The life of the little lost orphan you had created. We created this abduction and reality to help you."

    She pushes me, "You tortured me and hurt me to help me?"

    I try not to make it anything but science, even though I know it''s not scientific at all. It''s barbaric, and yet, somehow it works. "Yes. It was the only way. We thought maybe the relationship with Sebastian would help trigger things, but when you ended it, we knew. There was no other way. Studies have shown that victims, who are at the brink of death and lose everything, find peace all over again. They gain a coping mechanism and a new outlook on life. A new life. The New Leaf you wanted so badly."

    She looks like she might get sick but the clarity in her eyes is overwhelming. She is finally there. I knew I could make her come back to life. I smile and offer her my own pain so she can see how much better she will get, "I have things, quirks if you will, that are leftover from the things that happened to us all. My quirks prevented me from living a normal life. Even close to normal. Sometimes they still do. The nightmares were brutal for a long time. My uncle knew Doctor Bradley. He knew I needed help. No one believed me that you were real. No one. The Spicers were sick people who tortured and murdered little girls. They never left one alive. You were my imaginary friend to everyone else. The girl who shot Emalyn. Everyone thought I had made you up to deal with the fact, I had shot my own sister while trying to kill the Spicers." I hate that it is my story, but if it can make her see she can get past this, then it''s worth it. As long as she never learns the real truth about me. The truth about how I never really got better.

    There is guilt and pain in her eyes when she processes what I''ve told her. I ignore it, "You ran so fast and so far that we couldn¡¯t find you. Not even a trace of you. When you did get caught living on the streets, they never imagined you were tied with the Spicer file. It was so far away. No one clued in that you were a girl missing from Chicago, because you weren''t close to where you had been abducted from and it had been five years. You looked so different. No one had a clue who you were, and no Emalyn Spicer was missing. You were missed in the system."

    The light comes on when she thinks about it, "I climbed into the back of a truck. I thought you left me. I didn¡¯t blame you. After what I''d done, I understood. I''m sorry Eli."

    And there it is, she thought I left her.

    I look down, hoping to hide my shame and grin bitterly, "When I found you, they all had to apologize. All of them. I am crazy, but I never imagined you. And I have never forgotten you."

    "Why did you do all this?"

    If I could answer because I love you I would, but she doesn¡¯t even know me, not the way I know her.

    I shrug, "You wished to be normal more than anything in the whole world. You were so broken and no one knew how to help you. The orphanage didn¡¯t know how to help you because they didn¡¯t know what you had been through. But I do. I get it."

    "How did you know what I wished for?"

    Because I love you.

    I lose a little control and run my fingers down her smooth cheek, "I watched you nonstop for two years. There isn¡¯t a thought in your mind that I can''t read on your face." Caught up in the moment and greatness of seeing her reborn, I lower my face and press my lips against hers. She kisses back and I get lost for a second in the world of possibilities that loom over us.

    She breaks the spell with a question I can''t answer, "What do we do now?"

    I remember my place in all of this, "You go back to school and start over. New year, New Leaf, new you."

    She shakes her head and moves closer to me, "I don¡¯t want to. Can I stay here?"

    I laugh and try to refrain myself. I force back images of the room I have in my apartment with the ornate door and the wall filled with things designed to hurt people. I clear my throat and chuckle nervously, "Sarah, you are a master of denial. No one is as good as you are. I don¡¯t want you wasting this. You need to work on you for a while. And I have to go back to work."

 Page 19

    She tries to fight it but I cup her chin and force it, "You have to actually live that life you want."

    "I don¡¯t know how to live with what I''ve done."

    I know that pain. I nod, "You will. I want you to start figuring things out. It''s a long road from here but you can do it. You know the truth now. No more pretending."

    She wants to stay with me, I can tell. She likes this version of me, the real me. She doesn''t know about the others and the things they like to do. The one who wants to hurt, burn, and suffer, or the one who likes to make women suffer and crawl to him on their knees.

    I want her to stay with me too, but I know I can''t stay as I am right now, not for long anyway.

    Chapter Fifteen

    Her heels click across the floor when she hears the elevator. She points at the door, "Turn around and go back, Dr. Adams. You think you know her so well, you can finish her off then."

    I almost gag, thinking about her fucking response but I pull it out anyway. She sees the turquoise box and stops. A slow grin crosses her lips, "A peace offering, interesting."

    I nod, "I went rogue and I''m sorry." I''m not and I fucking hate her, but I keep that smile pasted across my lips.

    She leans against the chair next to her and nods, "How is she?"

    I shrug, as if Sarah isn¡¯t doing well, but I know the truth. She is doing amazingly well, for now. That¡¯s going to change. I remember the crash and I need Jane to be there for it.

    Her eyes sparkle, "You need me to finish this, don¡¯t you?" She doesn¡¯t wait for me to answer, she doesn¡¯t need my answer, "That¡¯s fine. I actually pushed you to the point you''re at now, in hopes that you would find the courage to tell her who she was." That is a lie. It''s boldfaced and sad, and even desperate, but I don¡¯t need the validation like she does. I nod, "I guessed as much."

    "Where is she at, in the story?" She walks to me and takes the box, untying it slowly. The sapphire earrings inside are stunning. Her eyes light up but I answer her question.

    "She is aware of everything that has happened, except Stuart and I being best friends. I still want him to be someone she can turn to, if she needs to. She is ashamed and devastated as we assumed she would be. She is sleeping in the purple room and when she wakes up, she is going to be sad I''m gone."

    Her eyes narrow, "Did you film the break?"

    I shake my head. I never want to relive that story again.

    "Jesus, Eli. How am I supposed to treat her, if I don¡¯t know the story?"

    I shake my head again, "I''ll tell you what you need to know, on the walk to the other side of the building."

    She sighs, "Fine."

    We leave the flat and head down the hallway to the industrial side of the building. I recount the breaking and the enlightenment of Sarah Mastermen.

    Jane shakes her head, "What a tragedy." She clasps her hands and puts on her professional face, "Do you feel like you should stay for the next week?"

    I shake my head, "I have to go to my mom''s¡ªStuart and I. It''s New Years Day, Jane."

    She smiles, "Well, thank you for the earrings, they''re lovely. Happy Christmas, Eli." She pulls me in and kisses my cheek. I step back, "You too." My feet try to walk to the room with my girl in it, but my heart tells me to let her debrief for a day with Jane.

    I leave the building and walk to the Tahoe where my brother is waiting for me. He gets out and hugs me hard. His hand slapping against my back is the only sound in the world. The parking lot is silent.

    It''s cold and I feel alone. My whole heart is in that purple room with the sleeping girl, my girl.

    "Let''s go get us some of Franklin''s bad-ass cooking. I know he''s got some good shit on for tonight."

    I laugh and slap him on the back too. We compose ourselves to look like men again and get into the truck.

    He smirks at me, "You did it."

    Tapping my cell phone against my knee, I nod and stare blankly, "I did it." I look out the window, "This has been the hardest two years I have ever lived through."

    "Include¡­"

    I cut him off, "Including the two years in the institution." We don¡¯t talk about it. We don¡¯t need to. The feel of the electricity coursing through my veins has never left me. The feel of the wooden bite in my mouth and the hand of the nurse of tightening the restraints have always been there. Even two years of hard therapy, as they called it, couldn¡¯t make me admit to shooting her or stop looking for the girl.

    He drives fast, probably eager to get out of the awkward silence we are stuck in. We are never awkward but the institution makes me awkward. I understand a lot of things in this world, but the fact they didn¡¯t believe me is still incomprehensible to me.

    They think I needed Jane for the things that happened at the Spicers'' home but that was never true. I needed Jane to help me get past everything else. The frantic need I had to search for her, convinced the small child I had saved was being harmed or dying alone in the woods. The memory of the lost control and devastating incompletion I felt, makes the white noise come.

    He parks and jumps out. I don¡¯t even notice we''re there. I stare straight ahead and finally deal with the fact she lived. She isn¡¯t somewhere, wondering why I left her behind. The image of me being a boy clawing at the windows of the car as they made me leave the sheriff''s station, has taken a hold of me. I screamed until they sedated me. I needed to find her. I needed to save her. I needed to say goodbye to Em. I left her body in the sand and promised I would be back. I never went back.

    "You getting out?"

    I look at Stuart and shake my head, "I never went back."

    He shakes his head, "You didn¡¯t need to, brother. They got her out of there. You went to her funeral. They got her out of there."

    I don¡¯t need to tell him things. We speak the same language. His hand reaches for my arm, but I climb out fast and walk up to the door. Franklin opens it with his same deadpan look. He''s really about the most detached human being I have ever met. Even Jane has more life to her than him, even if hers is prescribed.

    "Master Eli. How are you? Oh, and young Master Stuart, as well. Your parents will be so happy to see you."

    I hug him slightly, the way I always have, and walk into the house. Stark, plain, and cold. "Good to see things haven¡¯t changed around here."

    Stuart snorts, "I smell some home cooking, that hasn¡¯t changed."

    Franklin nods, "Yes, I made duck."

    Stuart nods at me, "Told you it would be something amazing." He rubs his belly, putting on an extra show to take from my awkwardness. "And let me tell you, I brought my appetite."

    Franklin smiles and walks to the hallway to show us to my parents.

    My mother stands, looking like she was dipped in wax. Since the last time I saw her, nothing has changed. She smiles but it never reaches her eyes. It didn¡¯t before Em died but it got much worse afterwards. Dad looks up from his paper, "Son, Stuart, how are you both?"

    Stuart sits and takes his glass of wine from Franklin. I nod, "Great. How was Christmas?"

    My mother gives me a shitty look that still somehow looks plastic, "Eli, we told you to come home for Christmas."

    I sigh, "I was with her."

    Their faces tighten. My mother drinks a large sip of wine, "The girl, from before?" they don¡¯t ever talk about it. Their way of dealing with it was putting me into a mental institute and visiting on Sundays, sometimes every second Sunday.

    I nod, "The girl, Sarah Mastermen, from before. She is doing well."

    My father frowns, "She still believing she is an orphan?"

    I shake my head.

    He nods, "Good. Her family must be desperate to see her."

    To them, they lost Em and me on the same day. I never really came home to them. It took me a long time to see that, but I do now.

    "Her family is excited. I spoke to them this morning. I think we are months away from her agreeing to see them. They really are the sweetest people ever."

    My mother glances at Stuart, "How was your Christmas, dear?"

    Stuart smiles, "It was great. I helped out with Sarah too."

    My mother looks horrified. She vaguely understands what Jane does. Most people don¡¯t get it. You have to understand the sick depravity we¡¯ve come from, to get that the cure is made of the thing that made you sick. Hair of the dog, if you will.

    Dinner is awkward, dessert is worse. I would leave but Stuart is moaning into his food like Matt Dillon in The Flamingo Kid. Mother is regaling us with tales of bullshit trips and how hard it was for them to get home from France for Christmas. They don¡¯t do Boston in the winter unless it''s a holiday. Even then, they try to convince me to come with them.

    He finally finishes eating and I stand, "We should be going. Thank you for dinner."

    Their faces relax. My father even smiles, "Thank you for coming out. I know how excited you are about this girl."

    He doesn¡¯t say anything about the fact this girl proves I was right, and they let the doctors torture and medicate me for no reason. He doesn¡¯t have to. The fact he hates seeing me, lets me in on that discomfort.

    My mother looks teary eyed. She''s had too much wine. Dad walks Stuart out, telling him about some golf trip in the spring.

    My mother grabs my arm, pinching into my skin, "Eli, honey. You know we love you."

    I nod. I don¡¯t, but I nod anyway.

    "We just feel sick, just sick. If there had been anyway to know."

    I smile, "Mom, it''s okay. I''m just glad she''s safe and I know you and dad did your best." I don¡¯t believe that. I believe they had more than that in them.

    She smiles weakly, "I hope this helps you put it to rest now."

    I wish I could hug her and cry into her perfumed shoulder, and tell her the thousands of ways I am relieved and scared, and that this may never go away. Instead, I hug her and walk to the door.

    Dad pats me on the back as we leave.

 Page 20

    Stuart rubs his belly and nods at me, "You want to drive?"

    I take the keys and walk around the back of the truck. I see my father watching me through the small window at the front. I see such sadness on his face. Sadness we will both wear until the day we die. Sadness we will never discuss.

    Back at Jane''s building, I sit in the monitor room and watch Sarah cry and shake. She pleads with Jane to put her back into the cell.

    Jane leaves the room, looking drained and confused. She looks at me, "Is it possible you were hallucinating her being better?"

    I sigh, "She was better. She is better. She hasn¡¯t washed her hands or anything else in hours. How did she eat her dinner?"

    Jane nods, "No, you''re right. She''s just so ashamed of herself. She cut herself with some glass too, trying to end her life."

    On the monitor, I can see the bandage on her arm. She is curled into a ball and sobbing still. She closes her eyes and lays there, like she is dead. It makes me angry to see her so pathetic and detached. Her self-pity is too much. I storm down the hall and into the room. I scoop her off the bed and carry her to the doorway.

    "You came back?" her words are soft. She closes her eyes and snuggles into me. "I didn¡¯t think you were coming back."

    I don¡¯t have words for that. I climb the stairs to the roof and step out into the icy-cold rain that¡¯s coming down on the city. It had been a horrid drive back to the building in it.

    We are outside a second and she screams and struggles but I hold her there, in the cold rain and speak softly, "You feel that, don¡¯t you?"

    "Eli, let me down. It''s freezing." She is wearing a simple skirt and tee shirt. I''m in my dress pants and dress shirt.

    "Can you feel how cold and painful that is?"

    We both are chattering within seconds. She looks up at me, "Let me go."

    I shake my head, "I need you to feel this. Can you feel this cold rain, Sarah?"

    She wipes her face and shouts at me, "YES! JESUS, I FEEL IT! NOW LET''S GO BACK IN!"

    "No. I want you to feel it. This pain means you are alive. The cold, hateful feeling right now, this is your body alive and well and reacting normally. This is as normal as people like me and you get. We don¡¯t get to feel sorry for ourselves or the pity eats us up. Can you feel how alive this cold makes you feel? You feel like you have to run or do something to get out of this?"

    She struggles and I put her down. She stands barefoot in the wet slush and nods.

    I look down on her soaked face, "That is survival of the fittest. Our bodies and minds do things to tell us that we need to do them to survive."

    She shudders and hops from foot to foot. I look down at my dress shoes, "Step onto my shoes."

    She does it, pressing her soaked chest into mine.

    "What we did in the past, everything we did, was to survive. That moment was no different than this one. My body is telling me to run away with you. It''s telling me to go to a warm place and hide there for the rest of my life."

    She gives me a look, "You want to run away with me?"

    I nod, shivering as the icy-cold rain poured down on me. She cups her fingers around my jaw and stands on her tiptoes on my shoes. Her face is nearly at my level, "I want that too," she whispers.

    A gust of wind hits and pelts the freezing rain at us. She gasps and I take my moment. I wrap around her, pressing my lips against hers. She moans into my mouth but the wind carries it away. The sound of the rain and wind is more than we can make, writhing against each other. She hops up into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist. I carry her back into the building, pressing her back against the wall. My ragged breaths become my words, "We can''t. You need this next week to try and find a place for everything you''re thinking and feeling. I''ll see you after."

    Her eyes widen but I trace my thumb along her lips, "I will always come back for you, Sarah. It took me a long time to find you this time, but I did it. I won''t ever leave, never. Don¡¯t hurt yourself, it hurts me when you do, and Emalyn wouldn¡¯t want that for you or me. She would want us dancing in the rain and savoring every second. We deserve that, Sarah." I kiss the side of her face and turn away from her.

    I look back, feeling my inner dictator rising in me, "Use this time wisely. Jane is crazy but she knows what she''s doing. She knows how to debrief you. Use her knowledge."

    I don¡¯t wave or kiss her goodbye, or do any of the things I want to do. I drive to the gym to let Angelo beat the ever-loving shit out of me.

    Chapter Sixteen

    January 7th

    "I need to see you, Eli. I need to discuss a few things with you."

    I look at the stack of things on my desk and nod, "Fine. I''ll come right over." I don¡¯t even fight her on it. I know why, I know Sarah is at her office for her last treatment before she''s freed into the world. The world where she makes the choices for herself and I no longer dangle her about like a puppet. She is no longer mine to control, mine to stalk, or mine to watch. She is free and I don¡¯t know how to win her heart when mine is still not found.

    I race down the stairs to the foyer, waving at the annoying guy at the desk as I hurry across to the door. I can''t get to my car fast enough. What if they''ve left already and I have no reason to see her?

    I dial Stuart as I start the car but he doesn¡¯t answer. I take deep breaths and redial, cutting someone off and getting a true Boston fuck you.

    I can''t relax until I see the Tahoe still there. I cut traffic, nearly hit a pedestrian, and speed, but the Tahoe is still there. She hasn¡¯t left yet. Stuart is pacing outside the vehicle, talking on his phone. He looks worried.

    I jump out, "What are you doing?"

    He scowls at me, "Leaving Michelle another voicemail. She isn¡¯t speaking to me. Sarah had to phone her and give her a rough recount of the events and she is pissed. I don¡¯t know what to do about it. I don¡¯t know how to win her back or make her understand."

    He means he doesn¡¯t know how to do all of that, without actually telling Michelle what he''s been through. He doesn¡¯t want her to know he''s soiled. Only he can see the dirty sides of himself but it doesn¡¯t matter; he doesn¡¯t want her to feel sorry for him or see him as less of a man.

    To me that is impossible. There is no one like Stuart. His secret soft side is something people don¡¯t know about. He volunteers to hold babies at the neonatal unit at Boston''s Children''s Hospital. He helps to find strays with the local animal shelters.

    No one is manlier than Stuart, and if he would let Michelle see himself, she would know that. But he won''t. He''ll act like a player and die inside slowly.

    I watch him dial again and nod, "I have to go inside and see Jane. You taking Sarah back to dorms?"

    He nods and starts leaving his message again. I wave and walk away.

    When I get inside, I look at the elevator and take a deep breath. I press the button and wait. The doors open and she walks right into my chest, not seeing me, "Oh sorry," she says so casually, like we are strangers.

    I step back, letting her and trying not to look wounded.

    "What are you doing here?" she asks.

    I can''t stop looking her in the eyes, not without seeing that kiss in the rain. Even the cold of it couldn¡¯t stop me from wanting to stay there with her. I point at the elevator, "I wanted to see her."

    She looks hurt, "Did you know I was here?"

    I lie, "No. I expected you to still be in session. I was going to wait in the other offices." She flinches when I say that, like her memories of those places are still too traumatizing. I know it''s been years for me and I am still traumatized. Jane alone scares me. I try to sound nicer, "How have you been?"

    She stares at me with something I don¡¯t want to see in her eyes, "Since you messaged me this morning and told me to stop being a pain in the ass? Good."

    I laugh nervously. I don¡¯t want her to see it, my anxiety or desire. The doors close as I avoid her face and she searches mine. I lean past her to press the button. Somewhere in the close space she whispers, "I need you."

    I can''t breathe. My words are stuck in my throat. I step back to tell her I love her. I just need to say it and put it out there, and hope to God she doesn¡¯t need me in a different way than I need her. She changes her mind and leaves.

    I look down at the floor and wonder where the brave man I used to be went. I was once a whole person and now I can only find that feeling of being whole, when she is there to fill the gaps.

    In desperation and sickening need I send her a text, ''I need to see you this evening. I need to talk to you.''

    I don¡¯t even know what I''ll say to her but I need her. I get into the elevator and try really hard not to feel the movement and tiny space of it all.

    Jane is waiting for me when it opens. She frowns, "You weren¡¯t supposed to make her love you, Eli."

    I want answers but if Jane thinks anything is going on, she will manipulate Sarah and make her hate me on purpose. She loves games and she loves having me as a prize.

    I raise an eyebrow, "Stockholm is your favorite form of therapy, Jane."

    She walks to the counter and pours us both a scotch. She drinks hers as she brings mine to me, "It is. I''ve just never seen it work so effectively. The person generally recovers, Sarah is not." She hands me the glass, winking and grinning, "Then again, it is you, Eli."

    I offer her up a grin, "To your success." She toasts with the little bit that¡¯s left and goes back for more. I don¡¯t want her to know how I feel. I sit down on the couch, "I''m just glad I can finally get back to work."

    Jane watches me, "You are?"

    I nod and sip the well-aged malt. "My father has been finding it hard with me working part-time and helping Sarah full time." I yawn, "And I''m exhausted."

    Jane furrows her brow, "So you have no interest in pursuing her?"

    "Who?"

    She cocks a grin, "Don¡¯t be daft, Sarah."

 Page 21

    I scoff, "No. She is family. She always will be. The next step is getting her to meet her parents. They''re so excited."

    Jane nods, "Sarah is too. She''s just scared for them to see the broken mess she is."

    I roll my eyes, "She needs to see the strength inside of herself. She is a remarkable girl."

    Jane smiles, "So you won''t mind if I tell Sebastian to have another go then?"

    I shrug, "I don¡¯t think a guy will solve anything. I think she''s still seeing herself as broken; no man is going to change that. She''ll just transfer her Stockholm on to him. I think it''s a terrible idea but you never listen to me."

    She laughs with her head back, "You never listen to me, rather."

    I lift my glass, "It''s too bad we''re both crazy." And I fucking hate you.

    She nods and drinks.

    "What do you need from me? You said you wanted to talk."

    She sighs, "Two things. Firstly, I want her to have contact with Sebastian again. She asked you for his number, I want you to give it to her. I have it."

    I narrow my gaze, "How do you know him?"

    She smirks, "I was getting some computer work done. He saw a picture of her and commented how beautiful she was. I told him she was about to start at the university. He mentioned he would be there too. I told him morning runs were her thing and to try to be there, and he should be able to meet her."

    "You set her up with a guy, while she was in therapy?"

    She laughs, "No, I set him up for failure, unfortunately. I knew she would back off, but I hoped the male contact and relationship would bring back bad things for her."

    I almost gag and feel sick for the guy at the same time. I''m glad it wasn¡¯t me who made her remember those things. I nod, "I can give her the number." She passes it to me and I see her look change.

    "What''s the second thing?"

    "She is going to tell Michelle everything. Everything."

    I nod, "I assumed as much."

    Her eyes narrow, "Stuart will be broken."

    "I know."

    She gives me a look, "Do you? Have you noticed how in love with her he is? He is going to suffer and not in a way he likes. He has never been in love before. He fears intimacy."

    I sigh, "I know that, you don¡¯t have to tell me."

    She gives me a glare, "Did you know he got a girl pregnant once, made her have an abortion because he was terrified he would molest the baby. That¡¯s why he forces himself to volunteer at the neonatal unit. He told me once he saw a program about how boys who are sexually assaulted, have a ninety-percent chance of abusing children. Do you know what that knowledge has done to him? He has never had a single thought about hurting a child or ever been attracted to one, and yet, he has deemed himself a predator. He lives with that."

    I swallow hard, shaking my head, "Why are you telling me this?"

    Her eyes glass over to the cold, dead-fish she really is, "He tried to commit suicide after the abortion. Took a bunch of pills. That is the last time I saw him heartbroken."

    I drink back the last of the scotch and place the glass down, "I will make certain he is himself."

    She nods, "Thank you. I don¡¯t think he will turn to me if he goes into crisis. I think it will be you. He loves you."

    I leave for the elevator, desperate for the stairs and to hug my friend and tell him he is no monster. I press the button, not looking but speaking loudly, "It was fun as it always is, Jane. Thank you for the scotch." I step into the elevator and avoid her eyes as the door closes. I can feel a broody mood coming on as I walk to the car. I don¡¯t start it, I text her one word, ''Hi.''

    She doesn''t send anything back but she reads it. I wonder if Michelle is there yet, and if they are talking about what a monster I am. I start the car and drive to her dorm. I don¡¯t mean to, it just happens. Staring at it makes me feel less detached from her. I actually fear the freedom she has and it''s entirely because I want her to be mine. It has nothing to do with her mental state or mine. It has even less to do with her healing or her family. It is entirely selfish. It is my version of a selfish survivor.

    She captivated me and I am stuck in her Stockholm as much as she is.

    I send a different text message as the sun goes down and I am hidden in the shadows, ''Stuart will be there in fifteen.''

    I dial Stuart quickly to make sure that he''ll be there.

    "Hey," his voice is sad.

    "I need you to pick her up in fifteen and bring her to my place."

    He doesn¡¯t say anything for a minute but after the long pause, he sounds confused, "What?"

    "Fifteen minutes."

    "Eli, dude. That is a terrible idea. You can''t bring her there."

    I sigh, "We need to see each other normally. She might still crack a little in public places, so yeah, I am going to meet with her at my place. It''s nice."

    "What about the room?"

    My stomach hurts. I wince, "I''m obviously not having her there for that."

    He pauses again and after a minute sighs, "Why are you having her there?"

    I ignore the question, "Michelle is going to be there. She won''t let Sarah out of her sight. I guarantee that."

    He sucks air, "Oh, that was low. Okay. Fifteen and you don¡¯t show her the room and Michelle waits in the Tahoe with me. Deal."

    I hang up and drive home for a fast shower and to get ready. I find myself putting on cologne and styling my faux hawk perfectly. It''s a bad sign.

    I watch out the window for the Tahoe. My stomach is eating itself. I don¡¯t actually know the last time I ate anything. I pace, watching the city lights come to life and tapping my fingers against my arms. In my peripheral, I see it pull up. She jumps out and runs across the street, in a skirt¡­ shit. I turn and run for the elevator, pressing the button and waiting. She will for sure take it. I step in, sticking my finger into the corner to make sure I know it isn¡¯t the hole.

    The doors open and she is there. She is prettier than I have ever seen her. Even her grad dress doesn¡¯t compare to the jacket, pink skirt, and of course, her UGG boots. I smile, I can''t even help it, "Sarah."

    She sucks her air, gasping and nodding, "Hi."

    I make room for her, "Come in."

    She seems scared or unsure. She gives me and the elevator a look before stepping in.

    "How are you?" I ask. I feel like an idiot.

    She frowns, "Since I saw you a few hours ago?"

    "Right. Of course."

    She looks up at me with that perfect face, "I''m fine. Really." She looks like a fairy or a doll. Her makeup makes her blue eyes and blonde hair stand out against her creamy skin. I can imagine sucking her glossy bottom lip. Shit. Why did she wear a skirt?

    She narrows her gaze, "Are you waiting for me to fall apart?"

    I can''t speak. I just nod, it''s not even the truth. I figure her parents are going to be the fall apart stage of her recovery.

    She shrugs, "It won''t happen. It''s different for me than you. I was already pulled apart. The memories suck, but inside I already knew they were there. Your eyes and her face have haunted me for the entire fourteen years."

    I don¡¯t say anything. If I do, it''s going to be something dirty and involve lifting her skirt just a little bit for my fingers that are clenched so tight I can''t stand it.

    We are both out of breath and words, yet still staring at each other. It''s awkward and tense. That rooftop kiss is playing in my mind, and by her skirt and bare legs, I can imagine it is in her mind as well.

    When the elevator stops, she steps off and walks to the view. I forget about the many things she hasn¡¯t seen or lived or done. She is like a bird freed from a cage.

    She looks back at me, "I didn¡¯t grow up like you. I didn¡¯t have a mom and a dad and Dr. Bradley to help me. I had to get tough on my own."

    I lean against the window and try to think of a reason I would think she wasn¡¯t coping with it all, "It just feels like you''re not dealing with it. It took me months to get to where you are. Years even. I''m scared you''re walling up again."

    She unzips her coat and I almost have to hold my breath. It isn¡¯t a skirt, it''s a dress. An off-the-shoulder, pale-pink dress that shows every inch of her perfect form. She sits down on the couch and continues like we are still having the conversation, "Your life was filled with shit like this. Fancy things. Like therapy." She nudges my glass coffee table.

    She has no idea just how fancy it was. I let her think it.

    She gives me a blank stare, "I had people. They didn¡¯t feel sorry for me. I was just another orphan. The people in my town felt sad for me and treated me with tons of kindness and pity because they all assumed I was abused and brutalized. What kind of kid is wandering the streets at six-years old? A kid who doesn¡¯t have loving parents. It was no mystery that I was tortured or beaten or molested. But the nuns and priests taught me that nothing was easy or free and hard work was what everyone did to get by. No matter their lot. They taught me that bad shit happens to everyone and no one in the world is exempt from horror and pain."

    I feel myself get caught up in her speech, "But they didn¡¯t know what you went through."

    She shakes her head, "No. But there was a girl who was taken from her parents. Her mom was actually her sister. She lived in that house till she was ten. Her name was Beth. She''s the same age as me. She''s becoming one of the sisters at the convent attached to the orphanage. She shakes if you raise your voice around her and pees the bed at night, still. She doesn¡¯t speak to men ever. God knows what happened to her."

    She stands up and grabs her coat like she is leaving, "I get that what happened to you was bad. It was and there is no denying it or taking that from you. But there are always people who have it worse. You were right. Your advice was right. I can''t rot in that old, dirty house. I will never be okay with what happened. I can''t say the words or think about the things that happened, without wishing it were me that didn¡¯t make it out. But I did. And maybe my hard life in an orphanage, where I was taught not to feel sorry for myself, was the easier environment to heal. You need to listen the next time Dr. Bradley tells you to be grateful. I''m slowly getting there. I''m grateful to you for everything you have done for me."

 Page 22

    I don¡¯t understand what is happening. How did our conversation get so lost? She walks to the elevator and I am frozen. I don¡¯t know what to say or do. She is new territory for me. She holds all the cards but doesn¡¯t know how to be the dom.

    The elevator button glows and I panic, I need to stop her before she pushes it. I jog over to her, "Wait." I brush my hand along her face, touching her just once more. I know the thing I should say and the thing I want to say, and I can''t make them match in my head, "You''re so much stronger than I am." Is she going to hate that weakness I expose to her?

    "I had to be."

    I lose control and grab her like she is the last thing I will ever touch again. I press my lips on hers, devouring her. She devours me back. She is forceful and crazed as she nearly climbs my body.

    I pin her to the elevator door with every intention of pushing the button, throwing her in and letting it close. The only way to actually stop kissing her is to bite my own lip so I do it before I mutter, "You''re right. I''m not like you. I can''t be grateful like you are. I can''t get past the fact I never saved her." I don¡¯t know where the words are coming from. I know they''re truth but I don¡¯t know why I''m saying them. I push the button on the wall and pray for strength.

    "You saved me."

    The magic words turn on the beast in me and I know once it''s there, it has to have its way. I need to warn her but my hands have already lifted her up, pinning her harder against the wall.

    I kiss her, sucking her lips and caressing her tongue with mine. We''re sliding against each other, and with every movement, I become less likely to stop.

    Before the words I need to say can leave my lips, her legs are around me and my hands are massaging her bared ass cheeks. Shit.

    My teeth run down her lips and I grind myself into the cotton of her underwear.

    My cock is aching it''s so hard, but I push it against her pussy rhythmically. She moans into my mouth and I find the strength to pull back. It''s that or rip her panties from her body.

    I try desperately to get my breath, "I''m bad for you, Sarah. I won''t ever be the gentleman you need."

    "Maybe I don¡¯t want gentle."

    Shit.

    Fuck.

    Shit.

    I panic and pull the paper with the number Jane gave me out of my pocket, "And that is my fault."

    The elevator opens¡ªthank you, Jesus.

    I furrow my brow, pick her up and kiss her like it will be the last time. I don¡¯t know the message I am trying to send after giving her Sebastian''s number, but I''m dying to maintain any control at all. Her lips are juicy and sweet. She moans in my mouth and I place her inside of the elevator.

    I step back, smirking "Forgive me." The door closes, again¡ªthank you, Jesus.

    I stand there for a minute, almost concerned for the state of my penis, it might never go down. I¡¯ve never felt that pure lust. There was no white noise, it was absolute desire. There has never been a moment like that in my entire life. I didn¡¯t need her. I wanted her.

    I turn and walk to the window, pressing my hands onto the cold glass and plot Sebastian''s murder. I hear the elevator again. I almost hope and then I don¡¯t. I am fresh out of self-control.

    When the elevator door dings, she walks out into the apartment.

    "Shit," I mutter and then speak louder, "Leave."

    She throws the piece of paper at me and shouts, "I have his cell number. I don¡¯t need this. You know I do. You answered him when he sent me messages."

    It bounces off the window next to me. I smile and wait for it. She shoves me as I suspected she might. I''m barely hanging onto the switch that¡¯s been hit. I turn and seethe in her face, "He''s the right guy for you, Sarah. You don¡¯t want to start this fight." I''m going to fuck her if she doesn¡¯t leave. I hate that I''m trying to scare her but I don¡¯t have anything else.

    She seethes right back, "You want me to be pissed at myself, like you are? You want me to take years to talk about my feelings and slowly crawl out of that fucking hole?" She points her finger at me, "When you pulled that trigger at eleven, you were twice the man you are now."

    Cold bitch. She''s been around Jane too much.

    Rage fills me instantly, "Get out." I am growling my words.

    She cocks an eyebrow and grins, provoking my anger, working me like a puppet, "You mad?"

    I lick my lips, hanging on by a thread, "Yup." It''s the same shitty answer she always gives me.

    She laughs in my face, "Good," taking steps back, taunting me more. I can almost hear the snap inside of my mind.

    My footsteps make the floor shake. I grab her roughly and lift her up into my arms. When our lips meet, it''s angry and heated. She drags her fingers through my hair, pulling it.

    Shit.

    I bite her lip and slam her into the wall, pressing the elevator button. She cries out, moaning into my mouth and pulling my hair more.

    She knows exactly how I need it, but with her I like it. Her legs squeeze harder. In the writhing and moaning, her dress had ridden right up her body. I can feel the head of my cock resting against the hot, silky flesh of her abdomen.

    I am kneading her ass like I might make bread out of it when the elevator dings. I step in and stay with her, squishing her against the wall.

    I press the button and grind against her again. She groans. It''s animalistic.

    She meets my grinding with a squeeze, I swear she is cracking ribs. I moan into her mouth, making her smile.

    Something is happening. The switch is turned and there is no going back. I don¡¯t even know what button I pushed on the wall. I don¡¯t care about anything but burying my cock inside of her. My fingers drag against the inside of her thighs, tearing the underwear right off of her. My knuckle grazes the wetness of her pussy. I don¡¯t know what has happened but the elevator is rocking with our movements. The door dings but my face is buried in her sweet neck. Her skin drives me wild. She is soft, and yet firm, from the running. Her hands rake my back through my dress shirt as I get my pants undone.

    I don¡¯t know if the door closes.

    I don¡¯t know if I am making the right decision.

    I don¡¯t know if I will ever forgive myself for this but her pussy is dripping on my fingers when I get them near the entrance. She hasn¡¯t just turned the switch, she has me wound right up. I am cranked as hard and high as I can go. I growl as I get a finger inside of her.

    I can only imagine how it''ll be on my cock. She is soaked and I forget she''s never done this before. I''m so dialed up that I can''t stop myself. The things I imagine as I roughly shove my cock inside of her don¡¯t help. There is no passion or gentleness. She cries out into my ear but I thrust hard. I don¡¯t know where I am or who I am. I know what my purpose is in life, it''s to fuck this girl until I can''t see straight, and even then, I think I''ll be begging for more.

    Something happens as I am finding my rhythm. She starts to lose it, she claws at me, forcing the position slightly and cums all over my cock. She grips it like she is milking it. I lose my hold, not expecting her to cum like that. Words leave my lips somehow, "God damned, Sarah."

    She grips me hard, like a fist. Her body is clenched down on mine. She bites me hard. I orgasm instantly, nearly buckling my legs and dropping us both to the floor.

    Her teeth are clenched on me still when I cry out too, just like she did. I have never done that before. I back up, looking down at her shredded underwear and wonder if she''s going to hate me. I zip up my pants but I can''t look at her.

    She was a virgin.

    The door dings, and in my peripheral, I see an old lady standing there looking at us. She''s holding a small, shivering dog. I want to apologize but I am not sorry. The door closes and Sarah presses ten.

    She puts her coat on and I don¡¯t know what to say.

    The elevator stops at my place but we don¡¯t move. The doors close and I bend down and pick up her underwear. I pretend I don¡¯t want to traumatize the old lady, but really, I want to fall asleep holding them.

    The door dings. The lady is still standing there but when Sarah gets off the elevator, the lady gives her a disturbed look.

    I watch the old lady for a second before I realize Sarah is leaving. I chase after her, glancing at the front desk guy. He nods at me. I frown and drag her outside. I don¡¯t want to make her get back into the elevator.

    It''s cold and she seems like she doesn¡¯t care about what we just did.

    I don¡¯t know what to say.

    I want to say sorry but I''m not. I''m sorry I fucked her like that for her first time, but it was such an amazing experience to enjoy sex, that I don¡¯t feel sorry. I feel elated and free. I want to kiss her and drag her back upstairs but I''m scared, a little.

    She does the most unexpected thing. She stands on her tiptoes and presses her lips against mine and whispers, "It was nice seeing you, Eli." She turns and leaves me there in the snow.

    I turn and walk slowly back into my building. I''m coated completely in the wet snow. I don¡¯t know how long I stood out there. I don¡¯t know anything. Who was that? Did Jane do that to her? Did Jane tell her to do that to me? Am I the one who is being played to get better? Is this some sick, twisted return to Misery Island for me?

    For several seconds in the foyer, I wonder how much of this is real and how much is a dream from a bed where I am shackled, and about to be electrocuted again.

    But when I step into the elevator, the smell of our sex makes a slow grin cross my lips.

    That was real.

    She was real.

    I press ten and nod my head.

    Chapter Seventeen

    Today is the worst day of my life.

    I send another text, ''Hi.''

    She doesn¡¯t respond.

    I pace the apartment and wait for her answer. Instead, Jane calls.

    "Hello?"

    She sighs, "So you''re texting her nonstop for what? You nervous about her and the big bad world?"

    I pinch my eyes together; how does Jane know that? "I am nervous about her being hurt, yes. She is fragile." That is a bold-faced lie. She is something but it''s not fragile.

 Page 23

    "Okay, well I told her about the trip to see her parents or them coming here. I think we''re there. I think she''s ready. Her twentieth birthday is the date she has chosen. Almost seventeen years since she has seen them."

    I shake my head, "Okay, great. That¡¯s the final step."

    I can hear Jane smile when she speaks, "You working? You sound different."

    I realize I''m rubbing the front of my pants and stop myself, "Yes." I''ve gotten hard all day like I was a teenaged boy again. Of course, when I was a teenager, I didn¡¯t have that problem much.

    Pacing the apartment has become something of an Olympic sport for me.

    I send her another ¡®hi¡¯ text message. She is reading but not responding. It''s like the worst game of cat and mouse. I know she wants to see me. She has to. That sex was like a drug and I need it again. I walk down the hallway to get a shower and see the ornate door. It stops me cold in my tracks.

    It''s exactly the sort of thing a girl like her doesn¡¯t do.

    Or does she?

    I open the door to the bathroom, ignoring the ornate-metal door.

    The shower doesn¡¯t take anything away.

    I change and go back to pacing, ignoring the door to the room, and the images of paddling her.

    Finally Stuart phones, "Dude, she¡¯s out with that guy. I just followed them to some restaurant. Impromptu date."

    The whole world crashes down.

    "Eli?"

    I swallow but I can''t speak.

    "Eli? What did you do?"

    "Stu, I need her. Stay there. I need her to come to me." My words are broken a little.

    "Oh man. You didn¡¯t have sex with her, did you?"

    I lick my lips, it''s involuntary. I hate that. I shake my head, "Just bring her here."

    I hang up and text her the truth but her truth is already there. She finally sent me back a message, ''I need you.''

    I take a deep breath and feel my heart start beating again. I send her the way I feel, ''I need you too.''

    I need her more than ever but she deserves to see the truth. If she is dating him, she stands a chance at her perfect normal.

    I''ve just finished getting everything ready when I see Stuart pull up in front of the building and walk to the elevator. I hate the damned thing just a little less, now that it has such an amazing memory attached to it. I step inside and wait for her to push the button.

    My heart breaks when it starts moving to the lobby. I can barely swallow when the door dings.

    She looks startled to see me. I put a hand out for her. She takes it but we don¡¯t speak. I have nothing to say. My heart will try to do the talking and then everything will be an even bigger mess. When the elevator stops at ten, I drag her into the house, stomping the whole way to the ornate door and fling her inside.

    The room is warm from the crackling fireplace that I lit. I always do. I love the room and hate it a little. The four-post bed is quite the piece. The canopy rails are my favorite. The bed is king sized but the posts and rails make it that much larger.

    I flick at her chin and nod at the blindfold hanging off of the post. It''s new but she doesn¡¯t know that. I''m waiting for her to run but she doesn¡¯t move. Frozen with fear maybe?

    "You need to see this. You need to know. This is what I need you for." I don¡¯t know if regular sex like in the elevator will ever be enough. I need to face the reality that I have never been regular. This is my normal.

    I close the door when she doesn¡¯t move, hoping to scare her off by making her feel trapped and run from the room screaming.

    She looks at me like I am a monster but says something so opposite, "You don¡¯t scare me."

    I point at the bed, "You texted me, Sarah. You needed me. This is me. This is what I have to offer. I don¡¯t have anything else to give you."

    Her hands shake but they reach for the zipper on her coat.

    Oh shit.

    She holds my gaze hostage and lets her coat drop to the floor. She looked excited. It makes me excited. I bite my lips to stop from begging her to let me lick every inch of her and step back. The chair in the corner is my watching chair. I sit and smile, "Undress."

    She takes a long inhale, contemplating it and then starts. Her shirt is gone first, making my pants uncomfortably tight. Her smooth, white supple breasts are in that odd-looking bra that isn¡¯t a bra. I have never heard a noise as exciting as the sound of her zipper. She wiggles out of the pants and stands there mostly naked.

    The fire crackles, reminding me I have to be the one to talk. I nod at the bed, "Go to the bed."

    She doesn¡¯t get a chance to move much beyond touching the bed and I''m out of the chair. I press myself into her ass and wrap myself around her. Her silky skin under my hands makes them sweat. I want to do a thousand things to her and I know I''ll last about five minutes. The smell of her is intoxicating. I lift her hands to the railing and nuzzle into her neck more, licking and kissing. "Don¡¯t move those hands," She can barely touch the floor with her hands so high. Her body is tight and lean. I kiss and nibble at her neck and back. Her runner''s ass sticks out, taunting me. I pull it back, moving it over the rigid bump of my cock in my pants. Her hands wobble, making me smile but I use my dom voice, "Don''t let go of that railing, Sarah."

    I touch her, savor her and then realize I forgot the blindfold. She has me in knots.

    I tie it over her sexy eyes, making those lips seem like they stick out more. I sit on the bed in front of her and just look. She is so beautiful.

    The weird bra thing is like a band across her breasts. It''s not flattering, but I can see the outline of her nipples. I thumb one through the fabric. Her lips part and mine lift into a smile. If she could see the look on my face she''d laugh. I reach up and play with the other one. I knew a girl once who could orgasm with nipple play. It was fascinating but it taught me that even if girls can''t orgasm, they can get quite excited.

    I flick and squeeze and lightly drag my fingers back and forth until her nipples are so erect, I need them in my mouth. I flip the weird band thing off and there is the most perfect nipple. Seeing her naked before was different. I tried not to see. Now, I want to notice every detail of her perfect pink nipples. I take one in my mouth and, instantly, I notice the way she squeezes her thighs together. I lick and suck and swirl my tongue around one while still rubbing the other. Her thighs clench harder. She wobbles and I swear she''s going to cum. I mutter, "Are you going to cum for me, Sarah? Before I even touch your pussy?"

    She moans louder. She likes it when I talk to her.

    "Come for me, baby." I suck harder and she does. She orgasms and loses her grip. My body reacts like it would if she were just a regular girl. I jump up and shove her face down into the blankets. She''s still moaning and gripping the bedding.

    I''m breathless and confused by her effects on me, but I stay in character, "I told you to keep your hands there." Her ass sticking out like that is sending me over the edge.

    I back away, and the next moments are more like a movie playing out in front of me, than real life. I turn to the wall and pull a paddle I''ve never tried before. It''s metal and wide. It feels like it weighs a ton in my hand, and like a zombie I walk to her, rubbing her ass and warming her up. She''s writhing and ready for it. I place the cold metal against her ass. She jumps and then sticks herself out more. She doesn¡¯t shy away from the paddle.

    My words are breathy and cold, "If you struggle, I will hit you harder." I don¡¯t want to do what I am about to, but I can''t stop the movie from playing out. The side of me I never wanted her to see is there and he can''t be stopped.

    I reach a hand forward on her belly and push her butt out more as the paddle comes down, lighting her ass cheeks up for me. My exhale is ragged and more of a shudder.

    "Touch your toes together," I growl at her, forgetting who she is. She does it fast, breathing into the bedding. I hit a second time and a third. She is writhing and moaning. I pull her back a bit and arch her back more so the next hit vibrates against her pussy. She moans harder. I start to get scared she''s going to cum again and I''ve made something much worse than me.

    "Faster," she mutters breathlessly into the blanket.

    My heart is beating out of control; what have I done? She can never go back to being normal after this. You can''t like this and then go back. I give her a chuckle and a line I''ve used before, "No, no, no. You''ve had an orgasm. You don¡¯t get another one." I hit a bit harder, trying to make it less enjoyable. "That''s my girl."

    I don¡¯t know how else to make it horrid than to make her feel like a slut, so I drop the paddle, rip her panties down, and unzip my pants harshly. I shove my swollen cock into her roughly. The reality of what I''m doing makes me sick. I close my eyes and push her down harder. I make noises like I''ve cum, she''s so wet that she won''t be able to tell I didn¡¯t. I fake my orgasm and turn to leave quickly before she can see my raging hard on. I am close to punching a hole in my walls and tearing the fucking house apart, when I get to the living room. I barely manage to get my pants on after a couple minutes trying to squeeze the zipper over my cock.

    I get a drink of water but I can''t get it down my throat. I leave the glass on the counter.

    I am pacing and running my hands through my hair like a psycho when I hear her feet on the hallway. She must think I''m a monster. I shake my head and wait for it. She''s going to scream and hate me and leave and go to that fucker Sebastian.

    Fuck.

    She does something much worse and even more unexpected. She is silent and leaves like the other girls. She isn¡¯t mad at me, she is hurt.

    She doesn¡¯t look at me so I say the only thing I can think of, "Don''t leave."

    It''s a stupid-ass thing to say to a girl you just treated like a whore, but I have got nothing else. The elevator comes and my heart shatters into a thousand pieces.

    She shakes her head, still not looking at me, "I don¡¯t want your money anymore. Or anything. I''ll make it work on my own." She steps into the elevator and presses a button. The look on her face is worse than anything I have ever seen on her.

 Page 24

    I rush at the wall and push the button as many times as I can but the elevator is gone. I run for the stairs, leaping them like a gazelle. I just miss the door closing when I reach the lobby but she isn¡¯t there. She didn¡¯t get off. I look up and try to catch my breath, "Shit."

    I press the elevator button and the door opens.

    She is on the floor, curled in a ball. I broke her.

    I scoop her up and hold her to my chest. She doesn¡¯t fight me. She just lies there.

    I press my lips against her head and close my eyes. I can''t lose her. I have to change.

    I forget I''m in an elevator. All that matters is her.

    The door dings at my apartment and I walk her in. I carry her to the place I think she needs.

    I switch on the light and take her coat and start to undress her slowly. She looks haunted and on the verge of tears, when she whispers, "No. Please don¡¯t."

    I don¡¯t know how to do it¡ªhow to be gentle and love her but I can try. I kiss the places I undress, tenderly and lovingly. I spend minutes pressing my face into her and just taking inhales of her skin.

    I stand, hoping she can see how sorry I am. I don¡¯t know how to say it. I am about to ask her to undress me too when she starts, as if reading my mind.

    Her eyes widen when she sees them all, no one ever does. The tatts and the scars and the lash or burn marks.

    Her eyes focus on the one I have for us all.

    She looks scared or intimidated. Her hands run my scars and lines and tattoos. "Where did you get these scars?"

    How do I tell her every mark was for her? I mutter, "I was hard on myself as a kid."

    We hold each other naked in an intimate moment I never imagined having. When we get into the shower, I wash myself from her. I soap up a facecloth and wash every inch of her body, slowly. She is so clean and soft. I love that our life never ruined her. I am ruined, scarred, and messy but she is pure. I never want to hurt her again.

    She closes her eyes and lifts her face to the water as I clean and massage from foot to head and back down again.

    "Tilt your head back," I say as I pour on a little shampoo. It barely does the front of her head. I frown and dump a bunch more into my hand. I finally get a lather and spend a few minutes just massaging her head. She tilts her head into the water and smiles, "What are you doing?"

    I shake my head, "I don¡¯t know."

    She laughs. I don¡¯t know why.

    "Do you have conditioner?"

    I look around at the things I have and shake my head again, "No."

    The grin on her lips grows, "Great. You know what long hair is like without conditioner?"

    I wince, "Oh."

    She starts to laugh and I am praying the water has washed away some of the bad things from before.

    I lean my face into the water and whisper into her ear, "I''m sorry if I hurt you."

    She leans her face into mine, "I know."

    I wrap around her and look up at the tiled ceiling reverently. I wonder if he can hear me begging him for help.

    When we get out, I dry her. She shakes her head and takes the towel, insisting on drying me. She does a crap job but I''m so exhausted and stressed I don¡¯t care.

    We stagger into my real room and collapse on my real bed. She is the first girl to ever grace the sheets of it.

    I want her to be the last. I want her. I need her. I just don¡¯t know how to keep her with me, on her terms.

    I reach over and pull her into my arms, holding her tight. Only when I''m sure she''s staying, can I close my eyes.

    I wake up to her staring at me. I mutter, "Go to sleep."

    She shakes her head "I can''t. Someone got me all worked up and now I''m kind of buzzing."

    A grin accidentally takes over my face when I answer her, "You came. In case you forgot."

    She laughs, "I forgot. I think you should remind me how it felt, jog my memory."

    I shake my head, "I think I like you how you are now." I open my eyes fully and look at her, "Do you want me?"

    She hesitates and nods but I want to hear her say it. I just want her to tell me she wants me. "What do you say?"

    She doesn¡¯t find my joke funny. She leaps out of the bed and storms into my closet. I don¡¯t know what game we''re playing but I''m in. I want her so bad I can''t stand it. Thankfully, she never noticed the raging erection I was hiding in our snuggle.

    She comes out of the closet, dressed in my jogging clothes.

    I don¡¯t get it. She must still be angry with me for the spanking. I bite my lip and watch her start to fiddle with her hair. "Where are you going? In my clothes?"

    She shrugs, "You won''t miss them. You don¡¯t wear anything but Armani. I''m pretty sure these are from Old Navy. You probably didn¡¯t even know you had them."

    I snort but quickly recover with a bossy demand, hoping she won''t get out of the room before I get up, "Get back here."

    She shakes her head, like we are playing a game and breaks into a run.

    I''m up and out of the bed, springing naked with an erection. I scoop up my boxers from the pile of clean clothes on my bureau and hop into them as I run after her. She gives me a grin and runs down the stairs.

    "SHIT!"

    I hit the elevator as I get my boxers on and leap inside pressing the M. The elevator stops on the seventh floor.

    "FUCK!"

    The old lady from the other day is there with that same dog and the same shitty look. She shakes her head at me. I shrug and push the close door button. When I get to the lobby, in my underwear, she is crossing the foyer and leaving, fully dressed.

    "Sarah!" I shout, chasing after her.

    She looks back at me and waves, "Goodbye, Eli. It was nice seeing you again."

    Her words have to travel through the snow I suddenly notice.

    I shake my head, desperate for her to stay with me and give me a second chance, "Wait for me. Give me one minute. Please." I sprint back to the lobby but have to take the elevator. I don¡¯t have keys.

    I run in and down the hallway. I glance into the metal door when I pass it. Something is glowing in the dark. I back up and go inside, grabbing her phone from the bed.

    The open conversation with Sebastian makes my heart sink.

    She sent, ''Meet me tomorrow at my dorm. I won''t have this number anymore.''

    He answered her right away like he was waiting for it, ''You sure?''

    I drop the phone onto the bed when I see her answer, ''I need you to help me become the girl I want to be. 8pm my dorm. Goodnight.''

    He has messaged her other things but I don¡¯t read them. I don¡¯t need to. I need to change her mind. I run to my closet and grab some of my boxing clothes and race back down the stairs to her.

    I''m terrified when I round the corner from the front door but she''s there.

    She grins, "I like casual, Eli. I mean don¡¯t get me wrong, I like the suits and dress pants and groomed thing you have going on, but this is nice too."

    The words of her text message are eating at me. I don¡¯t know how to win her or be cool. I just ask the thing I''m wondering, "What are you doing?"

    She shrugs, "I want pancakes."

    I blurt, "I''ll make you pancakes."

    She laughs and turns around to walk backwards, "I don¡¯t want your pancakes. I want normal pancakes. Not head-game pancakes. Not maybe I''ll make you happy or maybe I''ll scare the shit out of you. You know?"

    She is killing me inside. I hate being laughed at and I hate being manipulated. I start to actually wonder if Jane has gotten to her, "You''re awfully playful and free suddenly. Where is the girl from the elevator?"

    She flinches and stuffs her hands in her pockets, "She''s in here. I think there are a few of us in here. Besides, I''m on to you. I see your ploy."

    I laugh; if she did know it she would surely laugh. I am the most unlovable person we know, including Jane. I nod, "Ha. You think you do."

    I almost tell her that if she could just let me try to be good enough for her, I would never stop trying. But the words get caught behind the lump in my throat. I tilt my head back and smile when I see the snow falling. I stick my tongue out, out of habit and change the subject when I catch a snowflake, "When I was a kid, I used to do this all the time. My dad would take us to our cabin in Aspen and I would do anything to not be with them. When Emalyn was gone they canceled their divorce. They stayed together, hating each other and drinking. I would stand out on the deck and catch snow flakes till I was nearly frozen solid."

    She doesn¡¯t talk and I don¡¯t know how to say anything beyond I am sorry I am not good. Not a good person and not good enough and not good at making love. Fucking I have down pat.

    Her hands jerk my head down and she attacks in a way I never expected. Her mouth slides against mine and the wetness from the snow. Our tongues are hot compared to the cold air. She starts doing the thing she does where she climbs up my body. My erection is back, instantly. I lift her and spin us both so I can hold her against the wall. We writhe against each other and kiss until I can''t breathe without inhaling her too.

    I moan, put her down and turn to take her back upstairs and try again.

    She pulls back, "No."

    I frown, "You want this."

    "No, I don¡¯t."

    I smile nervously, "I can make you."

    She laughs, "I want the you that tilts his head back and eats the snow. I want the you that holds me and snuggles into me. I want him but you hardly ever show him to me. I see a glimpse of him and then it''s you that¡¯s back." She points at me and I can see the disgust all over her face, "I want the sweet guy who puts his hand out for me."

    All I see is the text to Sebastian. My heart aches in a way I don¡¯t think I can fix, not alone. I feel my words get thick, "He''s in here too. I think there are a few of us." I let her hand go, and walk away. I send a text to Stuart when I get in the elevator, ''She is walking back to dorms from my place. Go find her please. She won''t see me.''

    He responds quickly, ''KK''

 Page 25

    I don¡¯t reprimand him. I don¡¯t care anymore.

    When I get upstairs, I sit on the dirty bed, in the dirty room and stare at the text she sent him. When the phone goes black from lack of use, I press the button and make it come back to haunt me further.

    I take the phone back to my room and lie on my bed and stare at the words, ''girl I want to be'' and try not to think of ways to make the white noise stop. Ways I promised Emalyn I wouldn¡¯t do once I found her.

    Chapter Eighteen

    "Eli, son. Hans from the architectural firm we own in Boston needs someone to meet him at Northeastern. Can you do it?"

    I almost laugh but my dad wouldn¡¯t get the joke. I nod, "Yeah."

    He sounds distant, "Excellent. I''m at the investors meeting for the bank so I''ll be tied up all day."

    I frown, "Did you fly here from France?"

    He sighs, "No, we haven¡¯t made it back there yet. Work and your mother''s eye doctor appointments have made getting back impossible. Dinner tomorrow night?"

    I nod, "Sure, can Stuart come?"

    He laughs, "Why do you ask every time. Of course he can. He''s family. Franklin is making his favorite anyway."

    I smile, "Okay, I''ll tell him when I see him at the gym later."

    "Sounds good. I''ll tell your mother. Love you, son." He hangs up and I don¡¯t know what brought that on, but it makes me smile. He never says it. She doesn¡¯t either. They''ve been so odd lately.

    I get to the meeting early, not to be professional, but because I can see her window. It''s ten hours until 8pm and I don¡¯t know what I can possibly do to make her change her mind.

    I dial Stuart and sit on the swept-off bench in the garden.

    "Hey, man."

    "We have dinner tomorrow night at Mom''s. Franklin is making coq au vin."

    I can almost hear Stuart''s stomach start to growl, "Mmmm, just what I need, some comfort food."

    I can hear the tension in his voice, "Want to hang out later?" I don¡¯t tell him why. I don¡¯t tell him I''m going to need to be drunk off my ass to stop myself from going and killing Sebastian. Not to mention, I keep forgetting to make his broken heart more important than my own.

    I see the guy I''m meeting and get up from the bench, "Yeah. I need to get drunk. Just say if that¡¯s what you want to do?"

    I laugh, "It''s exactly what I want to do."

    "Peace, bro." He hangs up and I can''t help but feel a little better. He forces me to.

    The man I recognize from the last time we met as a group, smiles, "Mr. Adams, how nice to see you."

    I nod, "You as well, Hans. How is your wife?"

    He nods, probably surprised at my recalling that. It''s something my father taught me, in business remember everything. It makes people believe you''re their friend and builds trust faster. For him trust means it''s easier to pull the rug out from under people and get more, because they saw you coming.

    I shake Hans'' hand and know whatever my father has in store for the university, it can''t be all good. Our architectural firm is renowned for tearing down old things and making them new, even when people like the old and the history that comes with it.

    He starts talking but I see Sarah sneaking out of the building. Hans points in the direction she is walking. I nod and follow along, but I don¡¯t listen to what he''s saying. I just watch her avoiding me for all it''s worth.

    "What do you think?"

    I smile, "I think I trust you, and if you see something profitable for the company, or another way for us to make our mark and show people what a prestigious company we are, then you should go ahead with it." I grin, "Hans, my major was business but my passion has never been architecture." I slap his arm, "You know what you''re doing."

    He smiles back, "I''ll have the office forward over the design specs if you want to sign off on them."

    I nod again, "Good man, I''ll have the accountants release the initial funds as well."

    He puts his hand out. I shake it and try not to throw up. She hates me. I point at the dorm, "I will chat with you later, I am just going to go inside and take a look."

    He smirks, "Okay. Thanks for that, Eli."

    I nod, "Enjoy this one a little, for me."

    He nods, "Alright." He waves and I walk inside, pulling one of my credit cards from my clip and heading for her room. I am stunned when I get in and it''s sort of messy. Not filthy, just messy. It¡¯s not the way her room was at the orphanage. There is a picture of her and Michelle on the wall. I smile when I see the smile on her face; it''s the old broken one. I can''t miss that sad, dead-eyed face if I try to force it. Even if she doesn¡¯t pick me and love me, she is better off.

    I sit on her bed and bounce to check the comfort. It''s horrid. My back would be broken for sure.

    I lie back frowning; it''s worse than I thought. It¡¯s like lying on concrete.

    I close my eyes and see her face tilted up into the showerhead as I washed her hair. She was so beautiful, just as she was. I pull my phone out again and dial.

    "Sup."

    I wince, "I''m not biting, you did that on purpose to provoke me."

    Stuart laughs into the phone.

    I sigh, "She''s going on a date with Sebastian tonight. What can I do to be a normal guy and take her out and do something that makes her like me more?"

    He laughs, "You did bang her."

    I shake my head, "Never having this conversation with you. What can I do?"

    He pauses for a second and then I can hear the smile on his face, "Take her to Lance. She can see you being a normal guy doing a normal-guy thing. Go for a workout. Chicks dig hot, sweaty guys in boxing rings."

    I smile, "You saying I''m hot, Stu?"

    He scoffs, "No. I''ve seen you in the shower, bro. You''re a hot mess, that''s how you''re hot. Trust me, man, take her to see Lance. He treats us like sons, she''ll dig that."

    I nod, "Okay. See you later." I hang up and think about her in a boxing ring. I can''t see it.

    I hear someone fumbling with the key and sit up. God knows what will walk in. Fortunately, it''s her and she''s alone. She looks confused. I pull her phone out of my pocket, "You forgot something last night."

    "Why did you pay for all my tuition for the next four years?"

    Oh sweet Jesus, "Stop being a pain in the ass. Do you know how hard it is to track you without the cell phone? Stuart and I literally have to follow you everywhere you go. It''s annoying. Luckily, I had a meeting here today so I could return it."

    She wrinkles her nose, I love it. "I don¡¯t want any more help from you. I don¡¯t want money or stuff or Stuart driving my ass around."

    I ignore her, stand up and kiss her cheek, "Are you angry?"

    She nods.

    I smile, "Good." I take her hand and pull her to the door, "I have something I want to show you and I sort of need you angry for it."

    She walks behind me but gives my shoes an evil look, "I want those damned shoes burned."

    I have no idea what she''s talking about, "Deal." I''d agree to anything to make her happy.

    "I still can''t believe you kicked me."

    My stomach drops, the shoes are the ones I was wearing then. I shake my head, "I didn¡¯t want to. I needed you to believe."

    "Keep telling yourself that."

    I smirk, "Keep telling yourself the paddle doesn¡¯t turn you on."

    She laughs and blushes, and I hope we don¡¯t have to talk about this anymore. The gym isn¡¯t going to be very normal if we do.

    I hold her hand on the ride over and avoid Stuart''s eyes in the rearview.

    I take a breath like I am about to start the conversation about being good enough for her several times, but I just can''t get it out. Instead, I sound like it''s my first day breathing and I haven¡¯t quite mastered it.

    Stuart pulls up to the curb and I climb out, dragging her with me. I almost tell Stuart I''ll see him later but I don¡¯t. I don¡¯t know how much she has figured out about us.

    Angelo walks up grinning widely as we get to the front door of the gym. He throws a hand out, "Adams, yo. You''re back." I slap hands with him, like we always do. It''s urban but it''s his greeting. I see his eyes noticing Sarah and his lips lifting at what he sees. I cock an eyebrow and point, "This is Sarah Mastermen. Sarah, this is Angelo. He''s a lightweight champ."

    Angelo grins, "I can strip weight off like a mutha."

    I shake my head subtly at him. He nods and gets the door, catching my silent signals of impending death if he even looks at her.

    If I could just grunt and piss on her leg, making all other men aware of her being mine, I would.

    I lead her to the change room, not thinking about it being a co-ed gym.

    I change, sensing Angelo''s awareness of the awkwardness. He changes much faster than normal and grins at Sarah on his way out, "See you out there, Tinkerbell. Unless you chicken out. I understand if you¡¯re too scared to do this."

    I snort but she gives me a hateful look, "Tinkerbell?"

    I smile, "You do kind of look like her. Big blue eyes and light-yellow, blonde hair. I can see it." I pass her the bag of stuff I got Stuart to grab and nod at the changing closet, "Go put this on."

    She seems pissy and stalks off. I shake my head and try to loosen up, all the while chanting, "be normal" in my head. She is in there long enough for two guys to come and change. I glance at the clock and sigh. I want to say it isn¡¯t a fashion show, but I settle for the thing I think will be worse, "Let''s go, Tink."

    She chuckles, "Fuck you, Eli."

    I have no response for that. Does she hate me completely? Why did she hold my hand and smile at me if she hates me? Does she tell Sebastian to fuck off? I bet not. The more I think about it, the madder I get.

    She opens the door and I snap, "Do I ever speak to you that way?"

 Page 26

    "Let''s not discuss the things you do to me."

    I laugh and give her that one.

    She shoulder bumps me hard and walks away. I pinch the bridge of my nose and pray for the courage and strength to get through the next hour and a half. I walk fast to catch up to her. I don¡¯t want her in there without me. The meatheads will be on her instantly. Then I will have to kill them. Then I will go to jail. Then the next meathead will ask her out. The thought pisses me off and I nudge her shoulder back, "In this place, you get what you give."

    She grins, "Well then, let''s play. I have some serious shit I''d love to give back to you."

    I can''t help but smile. She makes me laugh with how confident and strong she acts. It''s like she forgets that I see the girl in the corner with the dead eyes. She doesn¡¯t wear that face anymore but I can still see that girl. She no longer runs, now she fights.

    She looks ready to rumble until she sees the rest of the gym. She looks over at Doris, a female I have questioned the sexuality of many times. She looks like a man and Sarah gives her the most disturbed look. I nudge her again, "Don¡¯t look so horrified. She is a pro female boxer."

    She leans in and whispers, "Heavy weight?"

    I laugh and shove her arm. She winces and I see red marks forming where I pushed her. I forget myself in this place. It amps me up. I offer her an apologetic look, "Sorry. I get pretty hyped in here."

    She looks nervous so I pick up the pace to where Lance has the junior class starting. She looks like one of the kids compared to the rest of us. She won''t have an issue fitting in.

    We get to where Lance and the boys are and she laughs at something. I look around but there is nothing I see funny. She looks like she is losing it a little. I frown and look back at Lance. He puts a hand out and points, "You must be Sarah." He claps his hands and beams at her. I don¡¯t know how he knows she is coming. I can only assume it was Stuart. Lance is the nicest old man ever. I know he will teach her to defend herself and have fun with it. He has a natural way of making people feel welcome.

    She smiles but I can see the nerves. She''s on edge until he smiles, "I''m Lance, in case Eli there hasn¡¯t told you, and this is beginner''s boxing."

    The boys look at her up and down and nod. I cock an eyebrow and their faces fall. They''ve seen me fight.

    Angelo sneaks up behind her and grabs her shoulders. "You boys go easy on Tinkerbell here, okay? You still have a chance to run away, Tink." He slaps her on the ass and winks at me. He''s dead and he knows it.

    Lance laughs, "If that¡¯s gonna offend you, Tink, you''re gonna need to toughen up. Or take a seat on the pine over there."

    She looks at me to defend her. I nod subtly. He''s dead.

    Lance claps his hands again. "Three laps around the gym. Fast. I want a quick warm up." He looks right at me. I sigh and glance at Angelo. I want to kill him now while I''m angry but Lance is saying no with his look.

    Sarah ignores us and starts stretching. I watch her ass with the kids as she starts warming up. She takes off and I run after her butt. I want to say I was actively participating, but I was watching her butt, until she tore off. I lost sight of her but suddenly she was there.

    "Still can''t catch me, huh?" She shouldered me and kept running. I pick up my pace but she is an elite runner. I''m almost wheezing when I cross the line, behind Lance.

    She grins and bumps into me again, "Somebody let an old man kick his ass."

    "In the ring, Tink." Lance points at her. He sees my eyes.

    She sighs, "Lance¡­uhm¡­sir. My name is Sarah." I smile but he doesn¡¯t.

    He waves her off, "We all have nicknames here. I''ll never remember Sarah. But with your hair in that bun, you look like Tinkerbell."

    She looks back at me, "What''s his nickname?"

    Lance looks confused, "That¡¯s Eli. We don¡¯t nickname him."

    She points at Angelo kicking the crap out of Stan in the ring next to us, ""Him?"

    He winks, "Angelo."

    "What his real name?" she asks and climbs into the ring. I laugh harder. I''ve never heard of anyone here having a nickname.

    Lance looks confused, but I know he''s messing with her, "Angelo?"

    Lance throws tape at her. "Tape up." She looks at it like it has a face and is about to talk to her. I laugh and walk over, taking the tape. I wrap her hands and stuff it in my pocket, "For later."

    She believes me. I laugh and walk away, leaving her there to blend in. Besides, I have to go get hot and sweaty so she can watch me. Nicky is in the far corner shadow boxing. I nod at him. He smiles. He''s just massive but I grin as I walk up. I can take him and he knows it, but it''ll be a dirty fight.

    I look over at her. He nods, "That your girl?"

    I shake my head, "I am trying so hard and not getting anywhere."

    He laughs, "That¡¯s ¡®cause you''re crazy. You gotta be sweet and cook. Chicks dig guys who cook and walk their little shit dogs and who take them shopping."

    I look at him and decide to keep it on his level, "She doesn¡¯t have a dog."

    He laughs, "And you have a butler who cooks."

    I scowl.

    He laughs harder, "Stu told me it¡¯s the best food in the world."

    I sigh, "It''s true. I''m never going to get her to love me."

    He wrinkles his thick nose that''s been broken several times, "Love, forget that. Take your shirt off and we''ll box. She''ll want to rape your ass at the end of this match."

    I cock an eyebrow, "Firstly, ass raping is not my thing. I mean it might be yours, and I''m not judging. Secondly..."

    "Hey, whoa. I meant she''ll¡­ you know¡­ attack you."

    I laugh and pull my shirt off. He sees my scars for the first time and winces, "Damn dude, you are too beat up. Lucky thing though, girls love scars."

    I nod once and pull my gloves on. He is wrong. Girls love normal, not scarred freaks like him and me and Stuart.

    We start our fight off slow. Getting warmed and stretched.

    He nods at me, "Your girl is hot though, I will say that. That, and Angelo is talking to her, so maybe you wanna find a new girl."

    My fists respond. He backs up as I fly at him.

    He takes a hard hit to the left side of his face and staggers back. He gets his balance and winks at me, "She was looking, that was a good one."

    I smile my mouth guard at him.

    We fight for another round but the air is broken with Lance screaming, "COME ON, TINK!"

    I turn and jump the ropes down onto the ground. I see Angelo and Lance laughing as I get closer. She is swatting one of the kids with her gloves. He hits her once hard. I growl as she staggers back. Lance shoots me a look.

    Sarah shakes her head, looks at him with a set of eyes I wouldn¡¯t wish on anyone, and dives for him. She tackles him to the ground hitting and spitting all over him. I can''t understand her but she is flailing and losing her mind.

    She stops hitting and starts saying something but piles of spit are coming out of her mouth guard. The kid is crying but the rest of us are dying with laughter. Lance takes a knee, he laughs so hard.

    The kid gets away from her, wiping his face of spit and tears. She looks mortified, "I want out."

    I nod and try not to vibrate as I hold back my laughter.

    She gives me the fiercest glare ever.

    I''m going to kill Stuart.

    Take her to the gym, yeah. Her eye is swelling shut when she walks over to me with her lip sticking way out. I wrap a sweaty arm around her and lead her back to my tee shirt.

    "You okay?" My voice is still high-pitched because I am laughing without actually letting it out.

    She shakes her head, "If you want to laugh, just do it."

    I make a whistle sound in my throat and shake my head, "No, babe. I''m good." The good comes out really high. She rolls her eyes and I lose it. The laugh tears from me and tears slip down my cheeks. I shake my head, trying desperately to speak, "Wha-wha-what was th-tha-that?"

    She shakes her head. I grab my shirt and wipe my eyes. She walks down the hallway past the ring where Nicky is still waiting for me to fight him. He shakes his head at me, "They don¡¯t dig guys who laugh at them."

    I flip him the bird and follow her down the hallway. I pull on my shirt and catch up. I can''t talk but I can stay calm as long as she doesn¡¯t want to talk about it.

    "Are there showers?" she asks, looking sad and swollen and defeated. It melts my laughter. I wrap around her and shake my head, "I don¡¯t want you naked in here. Come with me." I grab our stuff and take her to the Tahoe. We jump in the back and Stuart drives us to my place. He doesn¡¯t talk to us; it''s weird. I feel creepy, sitting in the back seat.

    He stops outside of my apartment and I pull her out, along with our bags. She looks like she might protest, but I don¡¯t give her the chance. The lobby guy smiles until he sees her black eye. Then he gives me a shitty look. I press the elevator and ignore it all.

    When we''re in the elevator, I kiss the top of her head and pull her into my arms. She smells like sweat and herself.

    The door opens and I drag her to the ensuite in my room. I pull off her shirt and pants and attempt to pull the sports bra off, but step back after a second, "That seems like it wants to stay."

    She laughs, "I can do it." She does something that resembles dislocating her shoulders. I shake my head and drop to my knee, pulling her panties down and then taking off her socks. I resist the urge to bury my face between her legs in the dark-blonde mat. I stand and turn around. I push the plug in inside the massive corner tub and start the water.

    I pour in some of the bubble bath that my decorator used as a prop but that came from a special boutique. It smells like lavender. I make sure the water is really warm and add some of my muscle-relaxing bath salts.

    I look back at her confused look.

    "What?"

    She points, "You have a lot of these?"

    I smirk, "I do. They relax the muscles. I don¡¯t normally do bubbles. Those are for special occasions."

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    She scoffs, "I just watched you crack the seal on that bottle."

    I laugh, "It''s not usually very special around here." I offer her my hand. She steps into the tub. I point at the button on the side, "That turns on the jets."

    I turn and leave the bathroom on the toughest act of chivalry I have ever done. I pick up her clothes and take them to my bed. I leave them there in a neat pile and place her phone in her coat and then take it out. I wrinkle my nose and go to the bags at the front door. I put her phone in her UGG boots and put them back in her bag.

    I walk into the kitchen and think about what Nicky said. Girls like boys who can cook. I open the fridge and look at the pate, champagne, sports drinks, eggs and condiments. There isn¡¯t even beer like there would be in a normal guy''s fridge. I like red wine better, is that so wrong? I tap my fingers against the counter and think. I can''t cook, I don¡¯t read, and I don¡¯t have anything to offer, except pate with nothing to eat it on and champagne I clearly don¡¯t like, as it''s still in my fridge.

    I decide to go and take a shower and try to come up with something. I''m nearly done shampooing my hair, when I feel something against me. I open my eyes and jump when I see her there. She smiles, "I need to rinse the soap off."

    I fight my grin and stare at her black eye, "There''s a huge walk-in shower in there."

    She nods, "I know."

    She wraps her arms around me and holds me. I don''t know how long we stay like that, but I think it''s the greatest experience I have ever had. Her breasts squished into my chest and her arms wrapped around me and the water all around us both.

    We get out and she dries off and walks naked back to my room where her clothes are. She doesn¡¯t put them on though. She puts on another pair of my jogging pants and a gray tee shirt. Her wet hair makes a dark spot on the shirt.

    "I''m sorry I took you there. I shouldn¡¯t have and now your eye is swollen."

    She smiles, "I liked it."

    We never say anything except the simple things and I think I mostly sound like a jerk. The sun goes down over the city and she nods at the windows in the room, "I better go. Is Stuart downstairs?"

    I nod.

    She walks to me slowly, presses her lips against mine. "I''m glad you took me there. I like seeing you there, like that." She turns and leaves. My plan was a failure. I walk to the hallway and watch her leave. She steps into the elevator and blows me a kiss. It closes and I have new things to worry about. I hurry to the kitchen to watch her leave. She runs across the street to the Tahoe and climbs in. I watch them until they''re a tiny spot on the road and then they¡¯re gone. She is gone.

    Chapter Nineteen

    I stare at the phone and lean against the bar. Stuart is still in the bathroom so I have seconds to text before he gets back.

    I take a breath and just send it, ''I need to see you tonight''

    Her answer is fast, ''No. I have a date with Sebastian.''

    I know I tortured her but it had a purpose. I don¡¯t know what her purpose is for doing this to me. I just ask so I know, ''Where are you going?''

    ''Liquor Store¡­''

    I roll my eyes, ''No. They have a mechanical bull. Think about how classy that is.''

    She doesn¡¯t answer me again.

    Stuart comes back and sits down next to me, "So where are we going tonight?"

    I almost say the Liquor Store but I can''t do that to him. I smirk, "Somewhere classy."

    He winces, "Both of the girls we like are on dates with other guys. How shitty is this?"

    I shrug, "We could stalk them and beat the piss out of the guys."

    He looks down, "She hates me, Eli. She is never going to forgive me, ever."

    I hate this. I nudge his arm, "She is. She''s just angry and confused. She sees the way Sarah is; there is no denying the truth and the proof, it worked. You helped save her."

    He drinks back his beer, "Yeah, but Michelle thinks I lied."

    I shake my head, "When haven¡¯t we lied?"

    He nods slowly and I see the slump coming. I get up, "Come on, we''re going out. This''ll be fun." I grab his arm and drag him out of the pub.

    We get to a bar with a beat but no line up yet. The shots line up along the bar. He gives me a smile and starts in on them like the old days.

    "This first shot is for my brother, Sam." It always is. He holds it out, "I love you brother and I will love you for the rest of my life. Someone remembers you, always." He drinks the shot.

    He holds the second one up, "To Dr. Bradley for saving me when I didn¡¯t see anything worth saving."

    He drinks the shot.

    I almost stop him but he has that look in his eyes, and if I can get him to pass out it''ll be better.

    "To my best friend, Eli. Fucking love you, man."

    He downs it and grabs the fourth one, "To my father for leaving when I was five and never returning. Fuck you."

    He slams that one on the bar with a little more force. He lifts number five with a sarcastic grin, "To my whore mother, hope it was worth the money you made all those days you worked and failed to call in the missing children''s report."

    I wince as he shudders and grabs number six.

    "To the school we went to for finally noticing we were missing and calling."

    This one is my favorite. He holds it up and gets a tear in his eyes, "To Officer Brady for finding us in that filthy, damned place and being the light in the darkness."

    He slaps the bar and gives me a savage look, "Let''s find some ladies."

    I shake my head, "Let''s take a walk."

    He looks worried I''m going to ruin the high he is getting. I shake my head, "Find a place with more going on."

    He looks around the nearly-empty bar and nods. As we leave, he nudges the bouncer on purpose. I slip the guy a hundred and push Stuart along.

    "What an asshole. He hit me on purpose."

    I sigh and look around. He needs a fight but he''s trashed and shouldn¡¯t fight. We walk down along the harbor. He gives me a look after a few blocks, "I love you."

    I nod, "I know you do."

    My phone vibrates. I pull it out and see it''s from Sarah, but I don¡¯t like the message, ''Maybe you should get Stuart to come get Shell.''

    I glance at him and shake my head as I type, ''Call her Michelle. No. Stuart''s hurt. I''m not doing that to him. We need to talk.''

    ''No. I''m hurt. I''m not doing that to me.''

    I pocket my phone and decide I''ll get him in bed and go to the stupid bar where she is and see what''s going on. If Michelle needs to go home, I''ll get them home, together.

    I turn us up the road to my place and walk along. His shots start to really hit him. He''s mumbling and crying.

    "I just love her and I don¡¯t want to live without her."

    I wrap an arm around him and pull him into the building, "She loves you. Sarah told me she loves you. She''s trying to make you jealous. Trust me."

    He gives me a sloppy face, "You think?"

    I nod and wrestle him into the elevator. The guy in the lobby gives me a look. I sigh as the door closes. When we get upstairs, I put him into the guest bed and lock the door. There is nothing in there but a bed and blankets. He can''t hurt himself.

    The dark of the hallway and the text I got, make me nervous. I hurry to the stairs and down to the lobby. The guy gives me another look as I point, "Don¡¯t let him leave. Call me right away."

    He nods, "Yes, Mr. Adams."

    I hail a cab and jump in, "Liquor Store bar, please."

    He nods and drives fast.

    I bypass the line and walk inside slowly. I spot them right away. They''re dancing and having fun. Michelle seems fine. I''m confused.

    The music is booming and everyone is on the dance floor. Sebastian is dancing like a goof with Sarah and Michelle is wrapped around her date.

    The song ends and they walk to the bar. He gets a drink and they talk. She looks animated and happy. She talks so much with him. She natters even. I couldn¡¯t tell the difference between her and any other girl in this bar. She looks normal.

    He leans down and kisses her softly. She wraps her hands around his face kissing him, pulling him in.

    My eyes won''t close, no matter how hard I try to get them to. They force me to see the thing I have dreaded and avoided since the start. I want to tell her he is a pawn put there by the evil doctor, but I don¡¯t. I watch for a few more painful seconds and then leave the bar.

    She is normal there, with him. She will never be that with me. I will always be a scarred freak who scares her. It will always be bigger than the boy who saved her.

    She will always be the empty, hollow place inside of me where I once felt love.

    Chapter Twenty

    ''Meet me now.''

    I need to end this.

    I wait for the Tahoe to pull up outside of the building and then I head for the elevator. I am surviving the day on autopilot.

    I press the button and step inside the elevator when it comes. I stand there waiting for her to press the button and summon us both down.

    When the elevator moves, I almost make a noise. The doors open and my hand extends to her, like it always does.

    She takes it and I don¡¯t know what to do with that. The memory of her lips on his is still so fresh in my mind. I know she probably had sex with him. He got to see how beautiful she is and... I have to stop. I just say the first thing I can, "I''m sorry." I don¡¯t know why I said it or what I''m sorry for. I don¡¯t know what to say to her. The conflict inside of me is overwhelming. I need to free her but I don¡¯t want to.

    The elevator dings and I pull her inside. I walk to the living room and drag her onto the couch with me. We sit in awkward silence until she speaks, "I should take my shoes off."

    "No."

    I feel her flinch. I am angry¡ªbetrayed I think. I feel that way, even though we have never stated what we are to each other; since I found her, I have been hers. Clearly, it''s not that way for her. "What do you want?" I ask blankly. I want to ask her to pick me or him, but I don¡¯t. I''m too scared she''ll pick him.

 Page 28

    She looks at me but doesn''t say anything.

    "What do you want, Sarah?"

    She shakes her head, "What do you mean?"

    "I mean in life, in general. What do you want?"

    Her eyes glisten as she whispers, "I want you."

    She is toying with me. She wants me and Sebastian.

    "You want the things I can offer? You can live without the others?" I mean other but I don¡¯t want her to know I watched her. I don¡¯t want her to know I always watch her, or that I know she slept with him.

    "No. I want both." She shakes her head.

    "There''s no both. There''s what''s here and what''s out there."

    She looks at me disgustedly, "Why do you want me? You have all that stuff down that hallway for a reason. You have all those things for a reason. You obviously didn¡¯t get them to be with me. You''ve had them for a while. I doubt you''re in desperate need of girls to submit to you."

    All she sees is that. I feel a bitter smile creeping onto my face, "It''s not something I care to discuss or explain."

    She gets up fast "Well then, I guess we''re done with this. Why don¡¯t you call the doc for me?"

    Jane has poisoned her against me maybe. Made her want him more than she wants me. She stomps off and pushes the elevator. I don¡¯t know how to tell her anything. I don¡¯t have any words with her and she doesn¡¯t have them with me. Everything is awkward and silent and loaded with the things we don¡¯t say.

    I walk to her but I don¡¯t touch her. All I see is his face against hers and the way she smiles and is bubbly and normal.

    She gives me an annoyed look, "Why did you even want me to come over?"

    I want to push her against the wall and make love to her, my way. Instead, I seethe, "I followed you and watched you last night. You were having fun and being free and you looked normal. I wanted to see it up close." She has nothing to say to that. She doesn¡¯t care that I''m hurting.

    She steps into the elevator but as the doors are closing I stop them, blurting out what I''ve wanted to say forever, "I want you to pick me."

    She backs away like she is afraid of me, "And live a half life?"

    I almost lean in as I hold the door open, "I can give you everything." My whole heart is already yours.

    She leans forward, "Except the one thing I want. I want you. Can you give me yourself, the way I''ve been able to give myself? I don''t have any dark corners left. You''ve invaded them all."

    I am never going to be able to say the things I want to, so I let her go, "I want to be enough for you. I want it too." I let the door close and drop to my knees. The hundreds of things I could have said float through my mind. I don¡¯t understand how one girl has me so tied up inside.

    She is gone. No doubt to his place to celebrate being free of me. I sit with my back against the elevator and watch out the windows as the sky changes with the wind and clouds.

    My butt is numb when my phone rings. I see her number and answer hesitantly, "Yes."

    "You think of me as your sister? You''ve fucked me, imagining I''m your sister?"

    I am lost. "What? What are you talking about?"

    "Doctor Bradley, she told me that you think of me as the sister who died. You''ve replaced me in your heart as your sister and you love me like that. You protect me like that." I''m huffing and puffing and blowing steam in an angry circle.

    I close my eyes and try to contain the instant rage, "You told Dr. Bradley about us? What we did at my house?"

    "ANSWER ME, FOR FUCK''S SAKE! DID YOU FUCK ME AND THINK ABOUT YOUR SISTER?"

    I hang up the phone and turn, running down the stairs to my car. I drive in a burning fury. I don¡¯t recall getting to the car or driving, or entering the building, but I stop myself when I see the shade of red changing to purple on her face. She is in the air and I''m screaming something. I''ve blanked out in black rage. I drop her to the floor. She gasps for air as I back away. Her gasps become laughs. She struggles to her feet and staggers to the bar where she pours a tall drink.

    She has some and sighs, still wheezing slightly.

    I sit on the couch, "How could you?" I ask defeated completely.

    She turns and I see her, the real her. She is like a serpent head the way she moves and smiles. "You fucked her? Your own patient, Eli. You fucked her? How despicable is that?"

    I don¡¯t even frown at her crazy. My own patient? She is as crazy as a shit house rat. She has lost it. I get up but she rushes at me, "YOU LOVE ME! I KNOW YOU DO!"

    I shove her to the floor, spilling the drink all over her. She rages and throws it at me. It smashes against my head. I see stars for a second but continue to the elevator, before I end up in prison.

    "YOU LOVE ME! YOU NEED ME!"

    I keep my back turned to her, showing her she is no threat to me. I step into the elevator and press the button. She throws herself at me again, but I shove her off just as the doors close. I dial immediately, "Wendy, it''s Eli. Cut the funding to Dr. Bradley. We are concluded and will no longer be needing her services."

    She always sounds friendly, "Sure thing, Mr. Adams. Have a great weekend."

    I smile, "You too." I hang up and walk to my car. I drive home, but I end up outside of her dorm.

    How can I explain that what she believes couldn¡¯t be further from the truth? I love my sister, I always will, but I stood at her grave and I gave her to God. She is the reason I believe there is a God. I refuse to believe Em went anywhere but Heaven.

    I sit and watch the light flicker from Sarah''s body moving inside and decide the best thing to do is give up.

    She doesn''t trust me enough to believe that I could love her for her. She believed Jane''s lies without even asking me. She was angry already when she called. She believed it.

    I lean back in the chair and close my eyes and pray to not wake up.

    Chapter Twenty-one

    Stuart walks into my living room in his gear, "They went to the gym. They wouldn¡¯t let me drive them. They took the bus."

    I wince, not at him but for him. I don¡¯t want her taking the bus, but I know Michelle is still hating on him.

    "Do you want to go there and work out?"

    His eyes meet mine, "Yeah." He looks exhausted. Surely Michelle must be able to see what she''s doing to him. I grab my bag and grab us both a sports drink. He just stares out the window, like he''s listening to the echo of his heart beat in his hollow chest.

    I know that pain.

    "I have everything."

    He turns and nods. We walk in the awkward silence I usually reserve for Sarah. In the elevator, I grin at him, "You know if she is putting you through this, she likes you a lot. She would have told you she never wants to see you again and made sure she didn¡¯t, if she really hated you."

    He nods, "She still sends me texts. It''s the only way she''ll talk to me at all."

    "That¡¯s a good sign, brother."

    He sighs and runs his hands over his short, dark hair, "I know. It doesn¡¯t feel good though."

    I scoff, "I know."

    He looks at me, "Did you go watch them at the club?"

    I nod, "And Jane told her I like to fuck her because I see her as my little sister."

    He grimaces, "Oh God. Dude. That¡¯s sick. I was wondering what the hell happened to her. I got that message from you that she was freaking out, and when I got there I thought for sure we lost her. She was on the sidewalk, just curled into herself. It was freezing cold and she wouldn¡¯t talk or move."

    I swallow hard, "She phoned me and asked me, no accused me and screamed at me. She believes Jane, that I love her and need her like a sister, and that I am a sick, depraved weirdo who wants to do those things to her, but pretend she''s Em." It''s so absurd, I''m not even bothered to talk about it.

    He shakes his head, "Okay, I have to give it to you. Dr. Bradley has lost her shit. You were right and I was wrong. Bitch is crazy."

    We walk across the lobby and I notice the lobby guy looking at me, like he''s waiting for some kind of eruption and craziness. It makes me smile.

    I drive us over to the gym, not even caring if they see us together. I am past the point of worry about Sarah and Michelle. I am disgusted in her opinion of me, but I am the one who pushed her face into the blankets and fucked her.

    It dawns on me as I''m changing, that I never burned the sheets. I expected us to do it again in there.

    The idea of it actually repulses me now.

    Stuart and I walk up to the ring and start to mess around. We get about twenty minutes into our routine, when I hear Lance screaming for Tink. I stop fighting, "I''ll be right back."

    Stuart gives me a look, "Maybe we should see if Angelo wants to fight."

    "I''ll see."

    I walk over and see him and Sarah racing each other. She kicks his ass, gloating all over him when she finishes. He shoves her a little, joking around. He sees me and backs off.

    Lance tosses me some tape and sends a kid in my direction. Something is happening between Sarah, Angelo and Michelle. It ends with Michelle looking back at Stuart and then running after Angelo. I almost throw the tape in my hand at her face, but I manage to restrain myself. She is an evil slut and I will do everything I can to make sure they never get back together.

    How can Sarah be friends with such a bad person?

    Lance yells at her and points at me. I barely notice it until she walks up and offers me her wrists.

    The kid walks off with his gloves on and I glance back at Michelle and Angelo and mutter, "We need to talk."

    "Talk." She hates me and that¡¯s fine. I''m beyond caring about her hatred, but I can''t watch as her whore friend ruins Stuart.

    I push away the hundreds of terrible things I want to say and smirk, "You know what I mean."

    "Talk. Brother."

    I gag a little but manage to not let her see. "I need to see you. I need to explain some things."

    She laughs in my face, "Screw you, Eli. I have nothing but that to say to you. I have no desire to see you. I came here because I seriously liked the idea of being able to fight. I like the idea that if some asshole tried to pin me, I might stand a chance at defending myself. I won''t ever be the victim again."

 Page 29

    She looks past me at Lance, "He''s not doing it right, Lance."

    He comes over, looking grumpy and mutters, "What the hell is this Adams? Jesus. My retriever does a better job than this." He snatches the tape from my hands where I have squished it a little bit.

    She is like Michelle. She is more like her than I imagined. I''ve created a monster. I step back and walk away.

    I''m catching a late-afternoon flight to see her parents and go over the final plan for the meeting on her real birthday in a week. I am scared to have to show them the person I accidentally helped make.

    Stuart gives me a desperate look, "Is she asking Angelo out?"

    I nod, "I think me and you might need a new gym to fight at. I don¡¯t want to go to jail."

    He steps forward, "I don¡¯t care about jail."

    I nod at the showers, "Let''s wait for him in the change room."

    The look in his eyes is insane. There is no way he can have a normal talk with Angelo. I grab him and drag him to our gear. I grab the bags and pull him to the Tahoe.

    He is vibrating when we get to the truck. "Why is she doing this? What could she possibly want to hurt me that bad for?"

    I look at him and try to be calm and not say the things I want to say, "She is a bad person, Stu. She doesn¡¯t love you. She doesn¡¯t. That¡¯s not love. That is awful. I don¡¯t even know what to say about it, except that you need to move on. It''s been months of this. She is stringing you along with the texts and trying to make you jealous, but I honestly think it''s done."

    He opens his mouth to argue but he doesn¡¯t. He can''t. There is nothing to say.

    I drive us to my parents and knock on the door. My mother answers and glances at my workout clothes, "Hello, dear."

    I point at the truck, "Can he stay with you? He''s been through a bad breakup and we''re all he has."

    Her face turns worried. She opens the door, "Of course. I''ll have Franklin make all his favorite foods."

    I frown, "Where is Franklin?" She never answers the door.

    She smiles, "He went to get some things the deli forgot to put in the order."

    It makes me smile. I can''t even imagine my parents in a grocery store.

    I walk to the door of the truck and open it, "Come on, man."

    He climbs out, looking confused, "What?"

    My mom smiles sweetly, "Stuart, honey. Come inside and I''ll make you some of that tea you like so much."

    Stuart gives me a look.

    I laugh, "I have to go to Chicago and see the Mastermen family. You can''t be alone."

    My mom takes his hand from mine and drags him inside, "We''ll pour you a nice bubble bath and you can relax, and afterward you can tell me all about it."

    I laugh and kiss my mom on the cheek, "See you tomorrow."

    Stuart has the look of a hostage but I know he loves my mom. She is cold and detached and unloving to me in every way, but she adores Stuart, as does my dad. It''s easy to love him, they know none of his secrets.

    She closes the door, winking at me. He won''t have time to feel sorry for himself. She will drive him insane with her snobbery and bizarre stories of who came to which party with whom and how ridiculous it was.

    I get to Chicago at seven and drive for their neighborhood. Richard answers the door with a beaming smile, "Eli!" Seeing them now is so different. They are so grateful and alive inside. They even went on a cruise a few months ago.

    He hugs me and pulls me inside. They live vicariously through me.

    Helen rushes down the stairs when I get inside, "Eli!" She wraps herself around me. I hug and smile.

    I wish they had been the parents I had come home to after Em died. No matter what Sarah has been through, they will love her and welcome her warmly and forget everything else. My parents were so cold and detached. They saw my failure. They knew I didn¡¯t protect her like I should have. Helen and Richard are not like that.

    "So how is she?"

    I smile, "She is blissfully normal. It''s ridiculous how far she has come in the last few months since Christmas."

    Helen''s eyes water and Richard inhales slowly as if trying not to cry.

    "Does she still want to see us on her birthday?" Helen''s voice breaks. I can see the preparation for disappointment in her eyes. I nod, "She does. She really does. We walk up the stairs and I start the explanation for how it will all go. It was Jane''s original plan to be part of it, but she will have no part in this.

    "Will we finally meet the doctor?"

    I shake my head, "She died. It was tragic."

    They both gasp. I nod, "Heart condition."

    It isn¡¯t so far from the truth, Jane is gone from Boston. An envelope was delivered days ago with the last of the money she will ever see from my family, and pictures that would end everything. She would get jail time for them. Pictures of a young man, not yet legal, being whipped by his physician and taught to like being dominated. I didn¡¯t take pictures of the encounter years later, where I dominated her and fucked her. I would hate for her to have anything she could enjoy.

    Richard passes me a cold beer. It is the only house in the world where I drink beer, because I don¡¯t have the heart to tell them I hate it.

    "She is doing well, she is enjoying college and she is no longer trapped by anything. She is free and ready to meet you."

    Helen starts to cry fully. She always does. She wipes her face, stammering, "I just¡ªI don¡¯t know how we can ever thank you. I don¡¯t know what to say or do to make it up to you. I don¡¯t understand why or how you would ever help, but I am grateful."

    My eyes water too. She does this every time but I''m dying inside with every word she says.

    I did it all for myself.

    I did it all for love, my love.

    I leave their house the next day, just wishing I could somehow still be part of their family when it all ends and she is with them again.

    I dial Stuart from the airport.

    "Yo."

    He sounds better.

    I smile, "How''s it going?"

    He scoffs, "Did you know dudes could get a pedicure and they just put clear polish on your toes?"

    I laugh. He is everything I need sometimes. I shake my head, "She is going to have you waxing your eyebrows soon. Don¡¯t fall for that one."

    He laughs, "I think they¡¯re good. They''re way cleaner than before."

    I laugh harder, "Stu, the only people who notice a guy''s eyebrows are gay guys. Until they grow back in you''re going to have a lot of dinner invitations."

    He is silent for a second, "Oh snap. You know what, I do kinda look like those two guys who do the property renovations on that girlie channel. My grandma loved that shit."

    I nod and sigh, "That¡¯s about it."

    "You almost home?"

    "Yes."

    He goes quiet, "I gotta go, man. She is making something called a dirty martini and making me try it."

    I grimace, the olive juice always makes me gag, "Good luck."

    He laughs and hangs up. We may not be perfect or normal, or even barely a family, but we have each other. We will never be the Mastermen family. They''re about to get their daughter back.

    Chapter Twenty-Two

    I wake up the morning of her birthday and drive over to the dorm. I have a plan for the entire day. Flowers, hair, spa, and then meet her parents.

    What I discover is Sebastian walking into the dorms with flowers, daisies. They are her favorite flower.

    The week that I have left her alone and let her cool off from the lies Jane told her, has proved to be a disaster. It has pushed her into his arms.

    He goes in and she comes out moments later. They walk and smile and I feel sick. I do the thing I don¡¯t want to do. I follow them. They get into the car laughing and happy but after a minute she gets out. She looks angry. He jumps out of the car and rushes to her, kissing her savagely. I don¡¯t turn away. The white noise comes and makes me watch. It freezes my face to make sure I suffer as much as I can.

    I watch her hands climb up his hair, pulling him down on her. He pushes her back into the car and storms to his side. He is pissed off. I hurry to my car and follow them. He drives like a maniac.

    Oh God.

    They turn into the underground parking of a building. I park on the road, frozen. They are going to fuck. She is going to give him everything that is mine. I smash my head down on the steering wheel, "You win, Jane."

    I stay there as long as I have to, hoping to see her leave looking like she just ate too many waffles or had a fight.

    I dread seeing that satisfied look on her face, but I force myself to wait and see it.

    Only when she does come, hours later, she doesn¡¯t look the same. She looks haunted and upset.

    What did he do to her?

    She hugs herself and walks along the street. She doesn¡¯t see me or anything. She shakes her head and looks back at the apartment.

    Whatever he did, she doesn¡¯t have the carefree ¡¯Ha, I got you to like me¡¯ look she always does when she leaves my place.

    I cock an eyebrow and let a glimmer of hope in that she couldn¡¯t do it. She doesn¡¯t like him the way she does me, maybe. I want to go to his apartment and beat the ever-loving shit out of him and make him tell me what they did, but it''s time to pick her parents up.

    I drive to the airport in a trance. I should be excited. The whole journey is about to come to an end, but I''m not. I haven¡¯t won her over and when I give her back to them, I will have no reason to see her anymore. She will be theirs. She always was theirs. I have no legitimate rights to her.

    When I pull up, they''re waiting with frightened faces and hopeful eyes.

    I get out and smile, "Ready?"

    The four of them nod. Lyle, one of her brothers, smiles, "I feel sick I''m so excited."

    I nod, "I know that feeling."

    Richard and I put the bags in the back and climb into the company SUV I took so we would all fit. My car hardly fits me and Stuart.

    The hotel is close so they don¡¯t have time to be nervous. They''re excited, scared, and jittery. Everything they say is too loud and not quite funny. Everyone is on edge. We get to the valet and I smile, "I will stand outside and wait for her. You guys go on up."

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    Helen starts to cry again. Richard hugs her, "Don¡¯t cry yet, let''s wait until we are holding our baby again." He nods at me, "I''ll get them settled in."

    The hotel staff are aware of what is going on. I can see their faces and the tears they are battling with.

    It''s going to be a horrid day.

    When Stuart pulls up to the red awning, I open the door instantly and put my hand inside. She takes it. Michelle is screaming at me and being a bitch, huge surprise.

    I ignore her and wrap myself around Sarah, whispering, "Don¡¯t be strong and brave for them. Be you. They expect nothing." I can feel her tensing and shaking, so I bring her to the bathroom with the lady on it. I push the door shut and sit her on the counter. I look into her bright-blue eyes and smile as softly as I can. This moment isn¡¯t about her and me. It''s about her and them. I speak gently, "They don¡¯t have any expectations. They never even had hope until I confirmed who you were. Be you. You''re sweet. We both know that."

    She nods and sniffles, "I''m scared."

    I kiss her forehead and hate that I am giving her back, "I am too. But you have me, even if you don¡¯t want me. I''m here. I''ll always be here." I grab my handkerchief and lift it to her face.

    Old Sarah surfaces, "Is that clean?"

    It makes me laugh and I wipe her eyes with it, "Yes. Fresh from the laundry. Just let me wipe your eyes. When this is over, you and I need to have a very serious conversation. I don¡¯t want to take away from the specialness of what you''re about to do, so we''ll just put that on the back burner. Just focus on this moment now. It''s hard. I know that. You''re amazing and they are lovely people. Trust me."

    She gives me a solid look, "I do." I believe her.

    I put my hand out, she takes it, and I lead us back to the lobby. She is calm again. Michelle is standing too close to Stuart. I glare at her but she ignores me and looks at Sarah, "You okay, Sarah?"

    She nods but moves closer to me. She is telling Michelle to back off, thank God. I catch a glimpse of her sanitizer in her hand. This is making her revert a little. I whisper again, "You ready to do this?"

    She gives me a firm nod, "Yup."

    Michelle smiles at her, "They''re going to love you. Like we do."

    Sarah starts to shake again, "You''re already more than any orphan could ask for. Let''s go."

    I pull her to the elevator. Michelle leans in and kisses her cheek and I fight the urge to smack her head into the wall. Stuart is giving me a deadly glare every time I look at Michelle.

    I squeeze Sarah, and when the elevator goes to the right floor, I pull her to the door before she can chicken out.

    When I knock, Richard opens the door. He looks like he is about to cry at any second. Helen comes and stands beside him. Having the three of them so close together, the likeness is uncanny.

    Helen breaks a little, sobbing into Richard. My heart hurts but I grip to Sarah. They drag her into an embrace and she drags me with her. She grips to me like she will die if she lets go.

    No one speaks until Helen finally says, "You look just like my mother." It''s a broken whisper.

    I see Sarah close her eyes and let it all become real. I nod at the room, "Let''s just step inside."

    We don¡¯t walk into the room, we just stand and watch them. Lyle and Jake are bawling, Richard has lost all control. Sarah just stares at them with hope in her eyes.

    Lyle points at them all, "Dad, Mom, Jake, Lyle."

    Finally we move into the room, Helen dragging Sarah and I. She leaps at me, "Thank you, thank you, thank you. You dear boy. Thank you." I bite the inside of my lip and try desperately not to cry too.

    I can''t look around the room. My brother''s face will be the one that kills me. There is nothing a lost child wants more than this and neither of us ever got it.

    We are getting it now through her. I know he''s crying, I can hear it, but I can''t look.

    Richard pulls back from mauling her, stammering, "Sorry, Sarah. I just¡­well¡­we¡­.never imagined. We hoped."

    She finally lets go of me and moves into them. I let go of her and step back. They start their reunion.

    Helen asks softly, "Sarah, do you remember us?"

    She pauses and nods, "I remember gingerbread cookies, skating on a pond, hot cocoa, and a black and white cat."

    They all cry harder, "The pond is at my mother''s farmhouse. Your grandma," Helen says through the tears.

    They look expectant but Sarah shakes her head, "I don¡¯t have anything else to give. I wish I did."

    The whole family hugs and attacks each other with love. One of her brothers reaches over and drags me into the embrace. I feel so conflicted. One side of me is completely awkward and the other is desperate to be part of them.

    Helen breaks up the hug and points at the chairs, "Come and sit, Sarah. We have so much to talk about."

    Sarah grabs Michelle and introduces her, "This is Michelle. She has been my family since I was eight."

    Helen hugs her tightly, "Thank you, Michelle. Thank you."

    Michelle breaks and I like seeing it. I would have sworn she had no heart at all.

    Sarah points at Stuart, "This is Stuart. He helped me remember everything that happened. And he keeps me safe." Helen drags him into the hug with Michelle. He sobs harder.

    Sarah takes my hand and pulls me to a chair, to sit next to her.

    Helen gets the baby book out and holds it. I clench my jaw. I''ve seen it. Damned near killed me.

    Helen smiles, "I''m Helen, if you don¡¯t want to call me Mom just yet. Your Dad''s name is Roger." She grips the book, "This is yours." She passes it to her.

    I try not to look down at the wisp of blonde hair inside of the book. The torture of it is too much.

    "You had almost none, so chubby and bald, compared to your brothers. But we managed to get a bit for the baby book." Helen sounds lost. "Happy birthday, baby. You were the baby. Lyle is twenty-three and Jake is twenty-five. They were five and seven when you were taken."

    She flips the worn pages as Helen continues talking, "We searched¡­for so long. About five years ago we had that built."

    I glance down at the picture of the monument in the book. The image of it brings the white noise. I grip to her to stave it off.

    Helen shakes her head, "We just thought, well, we gave up. For that, we are so sorry."

    Sarah shakes her head too, "I gave up too."

    Helen covers her face for a moment, sobbing and losing herself in her shame for a minute. She sniffles and looks up, "We would like for you to come home with us."

    I feel Sarah tensing so I grip back, reminding her I am there. She takes a breath and nods, "I can come."

    Helen looks at us, "You should bring your friends, of course. We have plenty of room."

    Sarah sounds so small, "When?"

    "Easter? We would love it if you came for Easter."

    Sarah sounds a little excited about it, "Can we visit again though?" She doesn¡¯t want to wait until Easter to see them again.

    I smile and pat her leg, "I was thinking perhaps I could host breakfast tomorrow. We can have it catered here in one of the small meeting rooms. I have the staff on standby with the idea."

    Helen smiles, "Yes." The men all agree when Helen looks back at them. They are all frozen and desperate not to continue crying. I can tell by looking at them and their silence.

    Sarah closes the book, "Thank you for meeting with us. You are the best birthday present I have ever gotten."

    Richard comes and takes her hands, "You are the greatest gift any of us could ever have." He lifts her from the seat and hugs her again.

    I am about to cry. I have seconds of control left. I stand next to her and speak softly, "We should be going. It''s no doubt overload for everyone."

    I step away from her and let them hug and kiss and savor the moments they finally have, after all this time. We walk to the elevator and all you can hear are whispers and sobs and sniffles. It''s the craziest thing I have ever seen.

    Richard comes over to me and leans into me, "You love her. I see that now. So that is why?" My eyes fill with tears. I give him a single nod. He pats my back, "We love you too, son. You kept her safe, even when you were a boy. You kept her safe when I could not. You have protected her all your life. You have my permission to love my daughter."

    A tear streams my cheek. He hugs me and nods. I don¡¯t know what to say. I never fucking do.

    He goes to Sarah and hugs her. She gets a strange look on her face as he whispers to her. I wipe my face dry and smirk at her panicked look. She''s as bad as I am. She sees me grinning and frowns. It makes me laugh.

    We get into the elevator after one more goodbye. The elevator is still filled with sobbing. Stuart gives me a look and whispers, "I''m gonna take her home." I nod. Sarah thinks Stuart¡¯s talking to her. She doesn¡¯t see he is my brother.

    I get off the elevator and hold my hand out for her. She takes it and we go to the SUV. I don¡¯t say anything. I don¡¯t know what to say and silence is better.

    Finally, and with a not very nice tone, she asks me the very thing I want to ask her, "What did he say to you at the elevator?"

    I answer plainly, "He thanked me for being there for you, even as a boy, when he could not protect you himself. He told me that I had his permission to love you."

    I drive out of the city. I don¡¯t even know where I''m going, but when I see the sign for freeway, I smile. My body just knew I needed the beach. The wind makes me feel clean.

    She leans into the window and mutters, "I feel so vulnerable having them again. Like I have something to lose."

    I look at her, "What happens if you lost them all tomorrow? Would that take away from the joy and the love you got from them there at the suite?"

    She shakes her head.

    "Sarah, that feeling is forever. It doesn''t shrink or grow. It''s just there. It exists. It''s yours and no one can take that." It''s so easy to talk to her about her family and healing. I wish I could talk this easily about us.

 Page 31

    She nods and looks out the window. I drive until we reach my parent''s beach house. She is fast asleep when we arrive.

    I carry her inside and place her on the bed I used to sleep in when I came here. I brush her hair out of her face and she moans and whispers a name, "Sebastian."

    I back away, feeling dirty, like I''ve committed a crime touching her. I can''t feel sorry for myself, I made my bed. I sacrificed myself to save her.

    I look up at the ceiling and smile. Em would have wanted it this way.

    I sigh and sit on the couch to watch her sleep, in case the lonely comes. She''s had such a hard day.

    Richard''s words ring in my head. He loves me too. He loves me and accepts me and wants me to be with her, to be part of them.

    At some point I fall asleep.

    When I wake it''s light out and she is gone. It takes me a second to panic.

    I leap up and run to the window. I don¡¯t see her. My heart is racing as I run through the house, "Sarah! Sarah, where are you?"

    I run out the front door and down the snowy path to the beach. I feel like a parent searching for a toddler. Her missing makes me panic in an unhealthy way.

    I get down the path and stop when I see her. She is smiling, texting, and laughing. I don¡¯t feel the snow hitting me or the icy wind coming off the ocean. I know my body is shaking from the cold and my tee shirt isn¡¯t enough to make me warm, but I can''t feel anything but the snapping feeling in my chest.

    "You seeing him again today?" The words fall out of my mouth.

    She spins and frowns, "You''ll freeze. Where is your coat?"

    I walk to her, "Don¡¯t change the subject."

    She nods, "I don''t know."

    "You plan on just seeing both of us? Use me when you need me and be with him the rest of the time?" I can''t stop myself from saying it.

    She looks shocked, "No."

    I pull her into me, "You want me, Sarah."

    She pushes me away, "I don¡¯t want to."

    "You have to know." I kiss her hand and just say it, "I love you. Not because you''re my replacement for my sister."

    She rejects me, "I never want to talk about this again."

    I feel myself vibrating as the white noise takes over, "She is obsessed with me. I didn¡¯t know." It''s not entirely true. I just didn¡¯t know how far Jane would take it, and it was worth sacrificing myself to save her.

    She looks back at me, disgusted, "Did you sleep with her?"

    When I don¡¯t answer she spits her words at me "Gross. What is wrong with you? Why would you sleep with your therapist? Did you take her to that room? Is that how she knows you like to punish girls?"

    I shake my head, "It happened once, two years ago. It was a mistake. I was drunk in the bar, after I found you. I was celebrating." I was cocky and wanting to convince her to help me with my quest. I can''t say that I did it to win her over for Sarah. She will never understand that or the fucked-up mind of Jane.

    She covers her ears, "WHAT THE FUCK? I DON¡¯T WANT TO KNOW THIS SHIT! JESUS!"

    She runs. I try to catch her but I can''t. She is an elite runner. I am not. She gets farther and farther away from me. I drop to my knees and let the snow fall down on me. I wish it would cover me up and hide me but I have to find her. She can''t run off alone in the snow.

    I run back and get my keys and my coat. I drive around for a while but she isn¡¯t there. She must have hitched a ride.

    I drive faster than I should in the snow but I need to know she is safe. I get to the hotel and she isn¡¯t there yet. Her family is waiting in the room I have arranged for breakfast. I don¡¯t dare face them after what Richard said to me yesterday. I can''t bare to have lost her. I pace and panic until I see the Tahoe pull up.

    Stuart went and got her and never messaged me.

    When they walk in, she doesn¡¯t see me but he does. He looks like he might try to defend himself but I see the hold Michelle has on him.

    He sees my look and nods.

    "Can I help you?" A lady at the front desk asks them.

    "She''s with me." I mutter.

    "Very good, Mr. Adams." the lady says.

    I offer her my hand but she walks past me, "Not now." Stuart sees my face and drags Michelle down the hall. I am about to go off. I grab her arm and pull her to where I can talk to her. "You ever scare me like that again and I will make sure you don¡¯t ever forget to let me know where you are. You don¡¯t run off."

    She looks up at me boldly, "You are not the boss of me."

    I grab her hand and drag her to them so I can be done with it all. I am fucking done. She doesn¡¯t see me or anything I have done for her. She doesn¡¯t see me.

    Her mother smiles when we get in the room, "Good morning, honey." She looks at me, "Morning Eli, honey." I lean in and kiss her cheek.

    We sit and her dad smiles at her, "Did you sleep well?"

    She smiles and nods, "I did."

    Of course she did. I watched over her most of the night and soothed her when she cried in her sleep. Even when she didn¡¯t say my name.

    I sit and watch them and realize how pathetic and destroyed I have let myself get. I fixed them all and like Jane said it would, it consumed me. I am a shell of the man I might have been, had I just walked away from it all.

    I try to talk to her but she rushes off with Stuart. He avoids my eye contact but texts me from the road as I follow them back to my apartment, ''I''ll tell her I have to drop her off at your place. You can talk there.''

    I see the message and frown. I planned to go and tell Emalyn that I had done what I had once promised I would. I follow Stuart¡¯s SUV to the apartment but as he stops the truck, she leaps from it and runs to Sebastian''s waiting car.

    They drive off and I drive past, to the cemetery.

    I park and crunch along the way to the monument I had made for her when I got to be a little older. I sit on the bench across from it and stare at the wording.

    "I did everything I said I would. I saved her and found her family and cured her sadness."

    I hear crunching from behind me, "You did a lot more than that, man."

    I start to cry when I see him. I don¡¯t want to talk about it. I bury my face in my hands and just sob at the finality of it all. A great weight should be lifted from my shoulders, but I have never felt more weighed down.

    I finish crying and sit up again. I take a deep breath of the cold, snowy air. He sits next to me.

    "That was a beautiful thing you did. I know she doesn¡¯t see it, but it was."

    I nod, "Doesn¡¯t really matter unless she sees it."

    He looks at me, "Why don¡¯t you just tell her everything, how you feel and how it is, and everything you''ve given up? You gotta talk, bro."

    I shake my head, "I don¡¯t know how. I just keep thinking my grand gestures will do it for me and then I fuck them up by being me."

    "I told Michelle everything."

    I look at him, "Huh?"

    He nods, "She knows you''re my brother and that we have been homies since we were young and all the shit you''ve done for Sarah and Emalyn. I told her everything."

    I scowl, "Why? I don¡¯t even like her. You have to break up with her. She''s evil."

    He laughs, "Easy, dude. I love her. Ya know, I don¡¯t get why the fuck you love Sarah either. We aren¡¯t supposed to. If I saw the reason you liked her, I''d like her, and then we''d have a problem. ¡®Cause you know, the ladies always pick me."

    I want to argue that point but he''s right, they do.

    I stare at the monument and sigh, "I just don¡¯t know how to say everything without making it like she was a burden. It never felt that way. I''ve carried her for so many years, she''s just become part of the load that I call life. I love her and I don¡¯t know how to fix this."

    He nudges me, "You gotta talk. Use your words not your hands."

    I laugh.

    Chapter Twenty-Three

    I look down at the phone and dial, praying she just answers this time. It''s been a day of me phoning her nonstop.

    "WHAT!" she answers.

    I panic, not sure what to say. I''ve called hundreds of times but she hasn¡¯t answered till now, "You have to see this isn¡¯t about you. She wants you and I under her thumb. I haven¡¯t had a session with her since it happened. She isn¡¯t my therapist. It isn¡¯t even a big deal. You slept with that Sebastian fellow on your birthday and I never brought it up. I haven¡¯t been with anyone since I found you. I swear to God. I haven¡¯t slept with anyone since I found you."

    She doesn¡¯t hear me, she just rages, "YOU LET ME GO THERE! YOU LET HER TREAT ME! YOU TWO FUCKING TORTURED ME IN A CELL! YOU FUCKED A WOMAN YOU LET TORTURE ME!"

    I rage back, "SHE IS THE BEST, SARAH. FOR FUCK''S SAKE!"

    She hangs up on me. She never denied sleeping with Sebastian.

    I am determined this is going to end today. Stuart texts me, ''Gym.''

    I drive there and wait in the rings, ready to box with her, or beg her to listen, or kidnap her and force her to.

    Half an hour goes by and finally I text her, ''Where are you?''

    She doesn¡¯t answer. I wait longer. No one is there. Thank God. I walk to the hallway, about to leave, when she emerges from the change room, taping her hands.

    She shakes her head at me, "Do you have a GPS tracker on me?" I ask.

    I laugh, nervously, "I do."

    "What? What do you want to say?"

    I turn and climb into the ring. This way she is trapped a little and running is harder.

    I bring her some gloves so she can hit me instead of running away. I speak softly as I put them on her, "She is the best. She was the only one who believed that you could be rescued and I needed you. I needed you."

    I have to walk away to say the next part and do my own gloves, "No one believed me about you¡­ that I didn¡¯t invent you. No one saw me as a hero. No one but you, and for that belief in me that you had, I let you down. I left you sleeping in that barn, thinking it would be better if you didn¡¯t have to see the police. I was protecting you, even then. You have never, nor will you ever, be my sister. I know I''m messed up and I am insane in so many different ways, but the fact you could believe me capable of such a horrific thing¡­"

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    A tear escapes my eye, it kills me inside. "You have always been the girl who took my hand and trusted me to save her. The girl who saved my sister from a fate worse than any. The girl whose sadness matched my own. The girl whose face has haunted me my entire life. You saw Emalyn''s eyes, well I saw yours. You are the bravest girl I have ever known."

    She isn¡¯t running, hitting, or screaming. Maybe Stuart was right. I walk to her, slowly in case she freaks again, "I have thought of no one but you for fourteen years. I can''t have a regular relationship. It isn¡¯t you I''m punishing, it''s me. I don¡¯t deserve the kindness of love. I failed her and you. I should have fought harder and saved you both. I never should have left you. I''m so sorry. I never should have left you. You ended up there because of me."

    She starts to cry and comes closer to me, taking my hands, "You saved me. You saved me from the dirty house and you saved me from being a waitress in a caf¨¦ the rest of my life." She touches one of my tears, "I see you."

    It¡¯s exactly the thing I need to hear.

    I wrap around her and hold her so tight my muscles tremble. I try to hold back the tears, but I can''t. I break and lose my control. The sobs rip from me as she holds me, comforting me. It feels like I have finally finished this. I shake my head and wipe my face.

    She stands there, frozen in a great, huge, what''s-next moment. I don¡¯t know what to do. I''ve put it all out there. All of it. It''s just a big mess sitting in front of her, waiting for her to decide. I mutter, "I''m sorry. I just panicked. I don¡¯t know what to do without you. I don¡¯t know what I am without you."

    Her words surprise and kill me inside, "We can''t be two broken things and have a relationship." She kisses me but still doesn¡¯t say anything I want to hear, "I don¡¯t want anyone but you. But at the same time, I don¡¯t want to be the china doll you glued back together. I don¡¯t want to look whole from a distance, but when you get close enough, you can see all the cracks."

    I try not to panic and scare her, "The cracks make us who we are."

    She shakes her head, "We can be better than this. But it feels like we need to be better for ourselves. I need to be better for me and you need to be better for you. If you can''t love you and I can''t love me, then we will never truly love each other."

    "You don¡¯t want to be with me?"

    She kisses me again, but I don¡¯t understand, "I do. But not like this. I don¡¯t want to need you to make me whole. My whole life I''ve wanted normal. I don¡¯t care about that anymore. Shell is right, there is no normal. But with us there is a danger that we will let this consume us. We won''t ever get better if we don''t let go of each other and find ourselves."

    When did she get so brave? I shake my head, "You''re so much stronger than I am. I can''t do this without you."

    She grins, "You need like a year with some hard-ass nuns and you''ll feel better. Trust me."

    I laugh, "I need you."

    "I need you too. When we don¡¯t need each other anymore and just want each other, we can try again."

    She is going to run again and leave me and I can''t do it. I''m not like her. I grip her tightly, "I can''t be without you."

    She ignores my fears and snuggles into me, "Yes, you can. You just have to trust me. If you trust me to take care of myself, you''ll see."

    "What if I lose you again?"

    She just stays there, so calm and sweet, "You found me once, you''ll find me again. It doesn¡¯t feel like it right now, but this is me choosing you."

    The white noise fills me up and she can''t take it away for me, not this time, "You''re right, it doesn¡¯t feel like it now."

    Chapter Twenty-Four

    Easter 2013

    Stuart gives me a crazy look, "A year in South America? You think your rich, white ass is gonna make it through that shit?"

    I push the rest of the clothes in the bag and smile. "No. I don¡¯t think that. I just see something about myself that I don¡¯t like. The last month of us being together and not together has been hard. She is getting better and I am staying the same. The other night I was sitting in the hallway to her dorm, eating Chinese food from a carton and I realized there is no life without her. I''ve spent every minute of my life trying to find her, trying to save her, trying to fix her, and trying to protect her. What is there to love about me, man? I''m not a person. I''m a job. I''ve made her a job and obsessed about it."

    He sighs, "Yeah, but that loyalty and that passion is something people love about you."

    I shake my head, "I don¡¯t even know my parents; we don¡¯t talk. We want to say a thousand things to each other and no one knows how to do it. They''re snooty, rude, and weird but I love them and I don¡¯t know how to tell them. They just see this broken kid who they accidentally called a liar and locked away for obsessing about a girl who wasn¡¯t there. They aren¡¯t ever going to get past it." I point towards the direction they live, "I don¡¯t want to be like that. I want to be like her. I want to learn that my pile of shit is nothing compared to the piles of shit other people have. I want to be grateful."

    Stuart looks at his watch, "Her play fight with Angelo is today, you coming?"

    I smile, "No. I''ll stop by and let her think I am, but I can''t watch that. I''ll kill him. I already kicked his ass once this month, we don¡¯t need it to happen again."

    Stuart moans, "Oh snap, did you beat him for sleeping with Michelle?"

    I shove more things in the bag, not saying anything.

    He winces, "We weren¡¯t together. We were on a break and he didn¡¯t even know I liked her."

    I point at him, "We made a deal not to talk about Michelle. I hate her. I think you can do better. She is a shitty, selfish twenty-year old from hell. If she hurts you again, she may go missing, DUDE!"

    He laughs, "Not even funny. You can''t even say dude right." He grabs my bag and zips it up, "You¡¯re going to a fucking swamp in the rain forest, you don¡¯t need all these clothes. Let''s go. I need to hurry over and watch this fight. Michelle is rubbing her whole body with oil to make it hard for his glove to connect."

    I smile and walk behind him to the elevator.

    "Did you tell your mom and dad that you''re leaving?"

    I nod once, "I went a couple weeks ago. I sat them both down and told them everything. It was horrible and painful and embarrassing."

    He frowns, "By everything, you mean everything? Sex with Dr. Bradley, torture in a cell, everything?"

    I nod.

    He grimaces, "Why?"

    I shrug, "I want us to try to be honest and open. The whole talking thing worked with Sarah. She heard me and I let her in. It was good."

    "How did they take it?"

    I laugh, "Not well. Dad called Jane over for a meeting. She came over from New York and met with them, expecting them to want to talk to her. Mom slapped her¡ªnever have I seen that before. Dad raged on her, threatened her with several lawsuits, and let her know he had called a favor in and had her put on a list of doctors who are watched countrywide and banned from setting up practice, or trying to get their licenses back. Then once she was sobbing and angry, Franklin had her removed from the house."

    Stuart stays quiet for a second and then laughs hard, "No way did your mom slap a ho down!"

    I laugh, "She did. It was a sight to see. My parents never believed in her practice; they only did it out of desperation and I never told them what happened to me there."

    He wipes his eyes and nods, "I woulda given a nut to have seen that shit."

    I shrug, "I think she pretty much has a mafia hit on her head. Of course, after they heard everything and dealt with her, they gave me the whole we are so proud of you and you are doing so well for someone like you."

    Stuart winces, "Ouch."

    I nod, "Yes."

    He slaps me on the back, ¡±If it makes you feel better, I don¡¯t think you''re doing all that hot."

    I snort, "Thanks, man."

    I look back at the apartment as the elevator comes and feel like I''m missing things and forgetting stuff, but I get on the elevator and leave.

    Stuart drags me inside of the packed gym. I watch as she comes down the carpet and climbs into the ring. She sees me and her face lights up. That is the last thing I want to remember about her. I turn and leave, getting a limo to pick me up.

    I check in at the airport and pace. I don¡¯t feel like I am making the right choice, but I know I need something like what she had. I need to leave my comfort zone and stop controlling everything in the world.

    My phone buzzes, it''s her. ''Where r u?''

    I sigh, ''Please text like an adult. R U? Really?''

    I hear feet slapping on the ground and look up to see her perfect ass go by me. I send her another message when she stops to message me, ''Look behind you.''

    She turns and sees me standing there. She lights up even more and runs at me, leaping into my arms. I hold her and kiss her and savor every second of it.

    "Where are you going?" she asks.

    "To live with some mean-ass nuns for a while."

    I think she laughs and then cries, "A year?"

    I kiss her forehead, "You said it was what I needed. I don¡¯t think it''ll be a year. A few months though. I can''t take too long from work."

    "I didn¡¯t think you''d take me seriously." She sounds pissed.

    I shrug, "I take everything you say seriously. Well, when you speak like an adult."

    "Are you calling my bluff? I don¡¯t want you to go. I want to come or you to stay."

    I laugh again, "Sarah, I need this. I need to see with the perspective you have. There are people who have it worse and I need to be grateful for what I have. You were right. My environment wasn''t a great way to grow up after everything else."

    "Where are you going?"

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    "South America."

    She looks me over and smiles, "Armani in South America?"

    I smile wider, "I went to a strange store called Cabela and bought all the beige and khaki I could find."

    She snuggles into me, "What if we lose each other?"

    "I will always find you."

    She doesn¡¯t let up on her grip, "I never imagined you would take my advice. I''m twenty. What do I know?"

    I pull her back, "A lot. Now, stay close to your brothers and please, for the love of God, don¡¯t go out without them. Stay in Boston or Chicago with family and friends. Keep training with Angelo and don¡¯t let him kiss you, he''ll suck your whole damned face in. I knew a girl who dated him." It''s not true but I don¡¯t want to have to beat him up again, I actually like him.

    She starts to cry, ripping my insides out, "I''m going to miss you."

    I brush them away, "I need this. I need to stop myself from obsessing where you are at every moment. I need to trust you."

    She isn¡¯t as convinced anymore, "You don¡¯t have anything to prove. You don¡¯t need to be a hero there. You are my hero already. You can learn to trust me here. I''m fine, I swear."

    "I''m not. You were right. Behave yourself and I expect FaceTime dates frequently. They''re going to call my flight and I haven¡¯t even gotten through security."

    "Don¡¯t leave me," she begs and I almost waver.

    I throw her answer back at her, "Never again. This isn¡¯t me leaving you. This is me choosing you."

    I kiss her and smell her hair once more before pushing off and walking away. I manage to be strong and not cry like the baby I really am, but she sends me a text and rips my heart out, ''I''m grateful for you.''

    I take a deep breath and force myself into the security clearance.

    Chapter Twenty-Five

    June 2013

    Two months of hot, sweaty work have stripped away a few things. Holding the small child in my arms and walking up the dusty road from the quarantine, strips away a lot more. She clings to me, sobbing and saying the same word over and over, "Momma."

    I hold her thin body to me and rub her back, "It''s okay, it''s going to be okay." They told me I had to leave, but I need to find the aunt she has in the next village over. The dusty goat path of a road has caked my ankles and legs in filth as it''s mixed with my sweat.

    My back aches, my hands hurt, and my throat is parched so badly I''m a little scared I have the plague.

    We pass by some people. I point, "Village?"

    They nod and walk into the woods. The little girl cries on, holding me and continuing to chant the same word over repeatedly.

    The goat path heads into a dense forest. I turn and follow it in. People and huts are scattered about. One of the doctors I recognize is there.

    I wave, "Hi, Dean."

    He smiles, "Is she from up the road?"

    I nod and sit, still cradling her, "Yes. Her aunt lives here. That¡¯s the only family she has left."

    His eyes narrow, "How bad was it when you left?"

    I shake my head.

    He nods, "Okay. Well I can translate and find the girl''s aunt if you want to head back into the town and get ready to leave."

    I shake my head, "I need to find her family. I need to know she got to them."

    He smiles, "You aren¡¯t what I expected, Eli."

    I laugh hoarsely, "This is exactly what I expected." He thinks I mean the desperate way they live in this part of Brazil. What I mean is this experience is exactly what I imagined it would be. The things I have seen, the loss and joy and desperation and passion have cured me. My pile of shit is so weak and small, and my loss, though it feels like it weighs as much as the moon, is nothing compared. This girl has lost a mother, father, three brothers and a sister who was only ten months old. Her loss is great and she has my heart, they all do. The strength and love of the people here, who have nothing but each other, is amazing. It is uplifting and I finally see what Sarah meant by her experience as an orphan shaping her to not feel sorry for herself.

    Thinking about her makes me smile. Dean comes back over with a woman who kneels in front of the girl and speaks softly. She asks her questions. The girl shakes her head and whispers things. The woman smiles and talks to Dean. He nods, "Her aunt is down by the river catching fish with her children and doing her washing. I can show you to her."

    I stand and carry the now-quiet girl to the trail. The path goes down a steep slope to where a river moves along quickly. We pass the rushing part to an inlet. When we reach the spot where some of the villagers are, a woman comes rushing at me. She is screaming and crying when she sees me. Dean speaks to her, explaining her loss. She drops to her knees, sobbing and shaking her head. She gets up, tearing the child from my arms. She holds her so tight I think she''ll break her. She then wraps herself around me. I don''t need to know what she says, I understand her body''s language. Gratitude is its own language.

    I nod and let her kiss both my cheeks. I hug the little girl once more and wave, "Bye, bye."

    She sniffles and nods, snuggling into her aunt. Dean says some things to them but I turn and watch. The riverbank is alive with people. The heat is beaten here in the water and the smiling faces. Children play and laugh and parents try to stay cool as they do their wash or catch fish.

    The simplicity of their life has me envious.

    Dean walks over, "You ready to go home?"

    I shake my head, "I feel like I should stay and try to save as many as I can from getting sick."

    He smiles, "It can become an unhealthy obsession."

    I laugh, I know all about those.

    "Only medical staff are staying; you have to go back so we don¡¯t have to worry about keeping you safe from it." We hike to his jeep and he drives me back to town. When I get to my hotel, I turn on my phone and FaceTime Stuart.

    "Hi!"

    He looks worried, "She there yet?"

    I scowl, "What?" My stomach starts to sink.

    "She came to you. She should have landed already."

    "Fuck." I feel sick instantly, "There is a plague. I''m being evacuated."

    My heart is beating out of control. I haven¡¯t thought about her safety in months. I haven¡¯t had to. She was safe in Boston and Stuart was with her. Now she is here and I can''t stop myself from imagining the worst. "Where did she fly into?"

    He shakes his head, "I don¡¯t know. She was coming there to see you."

    "Fuck, Stu. People are dying here, like whole communities. Why didn''t you stop her?"

    He opens his mouth but I shake my head, "Book her and me out of here now. Book flights home now. I''ll go find her."

    I hang up the phone and run to the inn. It''s the only place to stay. I don¡¯t get the white noise, even though I am panicking. I don¡¯t get that anymore.

    I burst through the doors, "Is there a girl, a pretty gringo staying here? A girl with blonde hair?" I pull her picture from my back pocket where I always keep it. I pull it out for the lady to look at. She frowns at me and nods.

    I close my eyes, "Is she here?"

    She shakes her head, "Drive with jeep with doctor." Her English is some of the best in the area. It¡¯s remote and the doctors all speak the local dialects. I tried speaking Spanish to them and they laughed at me.

    "Where is her room?"

    She gives me a key. I turn and run up the stairs and burst through the door. I pack her bags and leave them on the bed. I am about to freak out and maybe scream a little, when I see blonde hair blowing in the air of a jeep driving up to the town. I turn and run from the room, slamming the door. When I get down to the dusty road, my heart is pounding and I am feeling savage and irrational. I want to rip her from the god-damned jeep and smack her upside the head.

    When she sees me, I growl, "What the hell are you doing here?" I''m not sure if she heard me or not. I walk up to the jeep and nearly tear the door off. I offer her my vibrating hand. She takes it and I drag her to her room. I can''t speak without screaming, so I just don¡¯t. I open her door and she mutters, "Corrupt third-world countries."

    I drag her into the room, close the door, and press my back against it. I need to calm down. She probably just arrived and hasn¡¯t seen any sick people. I take a breath and look at her, "What did I say when I left?"

    She doesn¡¯t answer me.

    My words turn back into a growl, "I said don¡¯t go anywhere without your brothers and Stuart, and not to leave Chicago or Boston. Did you misunderstand my words?"

    She steps to me, kisses me and smiles, "You are not the boss of me. If you can gallivant in South America, then so can I."

    I wrap myself around her and whisper, "You scared me."

    She nods, "Ditto."

    "We are leaving in an hour. I have flights booked."

    She frowns, "You''re leaving the missionaries?"

    I don¡¯t understand. She doesn¡¯t want me to leave? I shake my head, "Not exactly. We never made it to our last destination. There is a sickness. All tourists are being sent home unless they have medical experience. I do not. Pack your bags. We leave as soon as possible."

    She kisses me again and finishes packing the few things I forgot to shove in the bags. She doesn¡¯t look at me when she says something I don¡¯t know how to respond to, "I went to your parents¡¯ house. I confessed it was me."

    I point out the obvious, "They knew that already. Why?"

    "I need absolution from God for my sin."

    I roll my eyes, "You don¡¯t get to pick and chose how religious you are. You never go to church. Why need absolution over that? It wasn¡¯t your fault."

    She walks to me, "I just needed to."

    Finally, I ask the thing I have feared all along, "Were they cruel to you?"

    "God no. They were perfectly polite. Hugged me once even. They told me about the center."

    I swallow hard, "Did they?"

 Page 34

    She nods, "I needed to hold you and make sure you were okay."

    I smile and kiss her hand, "I have you. I''ll always be okay."

    "I need you to know I was wrong. You don''t need to live here and be grateful because it was so cushy and easy for you growing up. My life was easier than yours. There is no doubt. Those nuns loved me way more than those people loved you."

    I lick my lips and shake my head, "It doesn¡¯t matter. I am grateful. I see what we have, I found you, and I trust that you''re going to be okay. Coming here made me see that."

    "I love you, Eli."

    I kiss her once more, "I am grateful for you." I need her to leave with me before the whole area erupts in plague and war. I nod, "Let''s go home."

    She smiles.

    Epilogue

    December 24th 2013

    My apartment has never looked so strange to me before. There are bells, ribbons, garland, mini trees and a big one, and it''s like Christmas threw up in here.

    Stuart passes me a glass of wine and sits next to me, "Wow."

    I nod, "Yes. Wow, if you mean to say ¡®holy shit, it''s like the mall in here¡¯ then wow is perfect."

    He sips his beer, "Yeah, that¡¯s about what I was gonna say."

    The lights everywhere make it sparkle, no matter where you are in the whole apartment.

    He nudges me, "You got something special under that tree?"

    I shrug, "I hope so. I gave her five thousand dollars and told her to do her shopping; she better have gotten me at least a tie."

    He laughs, "You know what I mean."

    I smile, "I do. I got her two things."

    He gives me a look. I get up and nod, "Come on." He gets up and follows me. I lead him down the hall, it''s an act I have never done before. I open the new, white door that looks like the others in the hallway. I see his face turn a little rigid. It makes me smile. I open the door; he backs away and winces as I let him see. He''s expecting the dirty room, but instead there is an office and a day bed. He frowns, "What¡­ what happened?"

    I shrug, "I want her parents to come and stay, I want mine to come for dinner, and I want her to do homework here and be at home." I don¡¯t tell him that it was mostly the shame that came with the room. She wanted to keep it but her memories of it were not the only ones that existed. It made me think and want things I didn¡¯t want to do to her. I learned to silence that side of myself.

    She kept the paddle she liked and the blindfold. That was her only concession to it.

    "When did you do this?"

    I smile, "Yesterday. I had someone come and buy the bed; I tossed the stuff in the room. The bureau stayed, it''s nice. I had the furniture people come yesterday though and put it all together."

    He nods, "It''s nice."

    I sip my wine, "It''s nice not having a room that no one can go in or not be worried they will."

    He gives me a look, "What''s the other present?"

    I shake my head, "I have to ask her dad for permission before it becomes a real present."

    His eyes fill with joy, "Richard and Helen love you."

    We turn and walk back to the kitchen. Sarah and Michelle walk from the elevator with bags of things.

    She sees my face and sticks her tongue out, "It''s not more decorations." She puts the bags down and fixes the things we''ve touched and moved. She still has that sometimes. I think she is testing herself with the decorations, forcing herself to change.

    She starts prepping food with Michelle, "My parents arrive in half an hour. Can you pick them up?"

    I put my wine on the counter and nod. Stuart gives me a look, "I''ll stay here and make sure those cooking classes they''ve been taking are paying off."

    I laugh, earning a fierce look from them both. She still wants to be a journalist, she wants to cook perfectly, decorate perfectly, and be perfectly normal. Then she wants me to tie her up and spank her. It''s like winning the lottery, except the first three weeks of cooking classes were bad. Stuart got food poisoning and I had a headache for a day.

    She wants normal and then fights it tooth and nail. Just getting her to move in with me was brutal.

    I have no idea how I will get her to agree to marrying me. I walk through the lobby, practicing my speech.

    The guy in the lobby gives me a look.

    I snap, "Do you ever take a day off?"

    He shakes his head, "No, Mr. Adams." I scowl and head for the SUV. I drive to the airport and wait. I practice my speech several times more and wait.

    My stomach is a ball of nerves. When they walk out of the airport, I jump out of my seat and open the hatch. "How was the flight?"

    They give me an odd look, "Good."

    I''m being weird. Shit.

    I put a hand up, "I''m sorry to do this here, but I can''t do it at the house and I wanted to ask to your face."

    Helen smiles brightly and Richard frowns. I gulp, "I would like your permission to marry your daughter, if she''ll even say yes."

    Helen leaps at me and Richard laughs, "You scared the devil out of me, son. I thought something bad had happened."

    Helen cries, she always does.

    I shake my head, "Please, I want her to be surprised when I ask. No tears."

    Richard shakes my hand, "You have always had our permission."

    I nod, "Thank you."

    Helen hugs me again and wipes her face, "What a wonderful Christmas surprise."

    I sigh, "Only if she says yes."

    Helen rolls her eyes, "She loves you, honey. She just has that orphan survival mode she goes into sometimes."

    I laugh and get the door for Helen. Richard sits up front with me. I am a worse ball of nerves now that I have their permission.

    We get to the house, they hug and look at the view and laugh and smile. I feel like a hallmark commercial. My house is filled with love and people and fucking Christmas decorations enough for a whole hotel.

    Stuart brings me my wine, "Well."

    I drink the whole glass and nod my head. He hits me in the arm, "Told you."

    I can''t seem to get a full breath. I don¡¯t doubt her love for me. I don¡¯t doubt my love for her. I know there are no two people on this earth as meant to be, as we are. I am just terrified that she will shut down when she feels the pressure of the question. I wish I could wait longer and not ask for a few years, but every time I see her, catch her eyes, or watch her smile, the words nearly slip from my lips. If I don¡¯t do it now, it''ll be in the boxing ring or the store or the car, and it won''t be special.

    I have had it in my pocket forever. I pat it and bite my lip. She makes a wonderful dinner but I can''t eat it. She opens my favorite wine, even though she still doesn''t drink and I don¡¯t want any. Her mother drinks too much and her father watches me all night long.

    It''s intense and stressful, but finally they turn in for the night and Stuart and Michelle leave. I can tell Michelle knows, damned Stuart.

    Sarah puts the last of the glasses into the dishwasher as I wipe down the table. We have to do it before bed or she can''t sleep.

    She finishes and I smirk, desperate to hide my nerves, "Come with me."

    I offer her my hand. She frowns and takes it. I pull her to the stairs in the hallway and we go up for the first time ever. I open the rooftop door and we walk out into the snow.

    The night is perfect; there is just enough snow that it looks magical and Christmassy.

    I walk her to the far side of the roof, overlooking the harbor and hotels. I turn and face her, praying to God she will agree.

    "When I was a boy, I met a girl and the worst things imaginable happened to us. We survived, but it was hard and there were a thousand reasons we shouldn¡¯t have." She frowns but I continue, "Now I don¡¯t know what got you through but you are the sole reason I survived everything. You have always been the sun and moon in my world. I was lost until I met you."

    She smiles and I drop to my knee, in the snow, and pull the ring from my pocket, "I know I''m not good enough, not even close. I know you probably feel like we have hardly known each other a year. But I have waited for what feels like an eternity, because I have loved you since I found you. It has been years and I have hoped and prayed that one day we would be here, and you would love me too."

    She doesn¡¯t look excited or scared. She looks frozen.

    I hold the ring up a little more, "I would be honored if you would marry me, Sarah Mastermen, and let me try with all my heart to make you happy every day."

    She is stuck on the shock of it all. If we were normal people, I would be excited that I''d shocked her. Being us, it''s not so exciting. She stares at the ring and then holds her hand out to me. I take it and place the ring on. She doesn''t speak. We do the awkward silence thing for a minute.

    She takes my hands and pulls me to my feet. Her eyes start to water. Her lip trembles and she nods, "Yes." She cries into our kiss.

    I wrap around her, sheltering her from the snow, "Thank you."

    She shakes her head and looks up at me, "I have never truly thanked you for everything."

    I shake my head, "I never did it so you would. I did it because I love you."

    She kisses my cheek and then the other, "Then thank you for loving me so much." She starts to laugh like she does sometimes, and I don''t get the joke. She looks at me, "Is this why you got rid of the naughty room?"

    I shake my head, "No. I got rid of that because I bought a house, well, I bought three. I was thinking you could check out which one you like best, then give one to Michelle and Stuart, and the other to your brothers. I want to sell this place so I don¡¯t want the realtors coming in and seeing that."

    She shakes her head, "Who buys three houses?"

    I shrug, "It seemed like a good idea at the time. I didn¡¯t want to commit to one, in case you hated it and then that¡¯s the shit Christmas present I gave you. This way, you pick."

    She sighs, "You are so weird." She links her arm into mine and leads us back to the door, "I''m cold and I want to go to bed, and I want to try very hard not to make any noise while we do all those things normal people don¡¯t do."

 Page 35

    I smile and kiss the top of her head, "And you make a perfect dinner. I am blessed."

    She chuckles, "That was Michelle. Mine sucked, she fixed it."

    I nod, "Well, you''ll make an excellent journalist and we can hire a cook."

    She shakes her head, "I''m going to get this." We get back downstairs and she gives me a funny look.

    "What?"

    She walks to the tree and takes an envelope from it. "I better give you yours too. I don¡¯t think you want to open this in front of my parents."

    I scowl. If she did the naughty photo session, I won''t be happy.

    I feel the permanent scowl on my face as I open the envelope. I don¡¯t get sexy, naked pictures of my fianc¨¦ though. Instead, I get a hand-written letter in broken English. I frown, "What is this?"

    "Read it."

    "Dear Master Adam. I be in good health. Auntie Cici tell me to write to you because you give us moneys and makes us rich. My school be good too. I learned English and I like it. I hope we come see you soon. I have my own bed room and auntie cici crys a lot. I says why and she says cause shes so happy. She says you are angel. Me and my cousins have a big back yard and a pool. I like swimming in the blue water better than the river. It is nice. Thanks to you, Simone."

    I look at her, "How?"

    She grins, tears filling her eyes, "I found Dean a month ago and I asked your father to help set them up for life¡ªI knew you would want it. He went overboard and made them millionaires, but I don¡¯t think they mind, and I don¡¯t think he notices the money being gone. It was not really that much."

    I am stunned. I think she was less stunned when I proposed. I shake my head, "This is the greatest thing you have ever done. Anyone has ever done. I don¡¯t even know how to thank you. It''s the best gift ever."

    She nods and holds up the ring, "I beat you."

    I laugh, "You did. That was amazing. Now let''s go to bed so I can beat you." I bring the letter with me to bed; I want to read it again. I want to read it every day. I love that she took the initiative to hunt down Dean and he found the girl. I love everything about this gift and this Christmas. It''s perfect, maybe not normal, but it''s perfect.

    I kiss the top of her head and lead her down the hallway. I don¡¯t know if I deserve any of it, but I am grateful for it all.

    The End