Vow of Silence (13 page)

I scribble
That man did not attack me.

“Can you be sure?” Detective Robbins asked.

I was at a bar. I left with a man. Not him.

“But you do know this man?”

It’s a very blurry video.

“Miss Marconi—”

“The truck is registered to your parents,” Detective Carr
cuts off Detective Robbins. “We’ve already spoken to them, so whoever you are
trying to protect—”

My parents?
Shit.
That means they know I’m here. That
means they know that I was attacked. They may have already fired Diego. Wait,
why would they fire Diego? He brought me here. His actions may have saved my
life. I don’t know how I ended up with him, but I know he couldn’t have been
involved with the man who attacked me.

On the whiteboard I write.
Business card in my purse with
a contact number for the man I was with.

“Which business card?”

All it says is ‘Discover Your Darkest Desires’ and a
phone number.

“There wasn’t anything like that in your purse.”

I look at Detective Carr and feel as if he thinks I am
lying. Closing my eyes, I try to remember where I last saw the card. It was in
my hand. I was in my bedroom.

Opening my eyes, I erase the board and write
It’s at my
house. On my nightstand.

Detective Carr asks, “Can you describe the man who attacked
you?”

I write
Tall. The tallest man I’ve ever seen. Maybe seven
feet. Maybe taller than seven feet. He was broad-shouldered, strong. He had a
high, wide forehead and a protruding brow. His nose was crooked, like it had
been broken more than once.

“That’s good. Was there anything else? Tattoos? A heavy
accent?”

I write
That’s all I remember.
That isn’t really the
truth. I remember that his voice was terrifying, but terrifying isn’t an
accent.

“Tell us about the bar you met him at. Have you been there
before?”

I know they are going to make certain judgments about my
character as soon as I admit I was at a BDSM club. I write
I don’t go often,
just sometimes. Place called Chaps, it’s a leather bar.

“A leather bar? You mean a gay club?”

I mean an alternative club. LGBT and BDSMers go there.

“Do you believe this man is a regular at that club?”

How would I know? I’m not a regular. I’ve never seen him
before.

“You’re certain you’ve never seen this man before?”

Trust me. I’d remember if I had.

I’m relieved when they finally leave. I sign to George.
That
was exhausting.

He’s frowning and I can tell he doesn’t believe me either.
He taps the whiteboard. “You just described Herman Munster.”

Who?

“Television sitcom back when shows were still broadcast in
black and white,” George answers my unspoken question.

I return to signing since it is just George in the room.
Never
saw it.

“Never mind. I thought you were being a smart-ass to the
detectives. That was really the description of the man who hurt you?”

Yes.

“Do you feel like you are still in danger?”

I shrug, mindful of the collar.

“Who was the man in the truck?”

Diego, my parents’ gardener. He must have been following
me.

“Why would he be following you?”

He thinks I know where his niece is. She came into the
country illegally for work and disappeared.

“And how would you know where she is?”

I close my eyes. It’s my only defense. I can’t escape him or
the questions any other way.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me the whole truth.”

I don’t open my eyes. This is not how I wanted a reunion
with George to go. A sudden thought occurs to me. I could have contacted him.
Why didn’t I?

A noise startles me and I expect to see George leaving, but
he has already gone and in his place, sitting in the chair beside me, is my
father.
Oh shit.
At least Mommy’s not here.

I look at him and he looks back.

I close my eyes to keep from crying.

“I warned you that I have enemies.”

I squeeze my eyes more tightly closed but a tear slips down
my cheek anyway.
Yes, you said that.
Did one of your enemies do this? Or
did you pay someone to do this to me to convince me you have enemies?

I have two thoughts. The room is darker than before—it is
evening—I must have slept. Also, I’m not alone with my father. Expecting to see
one of his bodyguards at the foot of my bed, I turn my head slightly, mindful
of the doctor’s command not to move, and see Lenka. Really? Why?

Why, why, why?

He looks even more disreputable in jeans and a leather
jacket. Frowning, I look back toward my father.

“We were very disappointed you weren’t at the gathering this
weekend. Obviously you had a good excuse but now, seeing you like this, it is
even more important for you to have strong protection. You must have a
husband.” My father leans forward and pats my arm.

I make a distressed sound. How fair is this that I can’t
talk? I can’t argue back. I can’t even walk away.

“Your mother has not yet been informed that you are here.
She left this morning for Paris.”

I stare at him. Is he making excuses for her absence? She’s
missed most of my life, does it matter that she isn’t here for this?

“Who did this to you? I cannot believe it was Diego, he’s
been faithful to our family, but if I believed he had anything to do with
this—”

He's acting like he doesn’t know who did this to me. So
maybe he really did have nothing to do with this! I grab my father’s hand,
making him watch as I write on the whiteboard
Not Diego. He rescued me.

“Then who?”

I scribble
He called himself God.

My father’s face flushes dark but just as quickly he
composes himself. Does he recognize the name? Is he one of the enemies my
father was worried about? I’d thought he was just a random guy, but what if the
truth is more sinister than that? It seems strange that my father doesn’t ask
for details, but maybe he doesn’t want to know if I was raped or went
willingly.

“As soon as possible we’re going to move you to a private
facility.”

No!
My father keeps talking, but I’m not listening. I
only got to see George for a moment; if I’m moved I will most likely never see
him again.

“I’ll make all the arrangements. In the meantime, I have a
bodyguard posted outside your door and this evening Lenka is going to spend a
few hours with you so that you won’t be too bored. Take the time to get to know
him better. Give him a fair chance.” My father stands and kisses my forehead.
“All I want for you is to be safe and happy.”

My mind is screaming
No, no, no!
as my father leaves
the room.
Don’t leave me alone with Lenka!

He sits down in the chair vacated by my father.
Oh shit.

“The gathering was spectacular—so much luscious food, so
many beautiful people—it is a shame you were not there.”

I write on the white board, scribbling out the words
Did
you have this done to me
? before showing it to him.

I gape at him, not believing he expects us to have a
conversation. I’m exhausted, I hurt. I imagine I must be a sight, not that I
care. I don’t want to be attractive to him. Not that I would ever be the pretty
one in the relationship if we were together. For all his rough edges, he is
still gorgeous. I turn my gaze away, not wanting him to guess I find him the
least attractive.

“Many alliances became stronger.”

If I could turn off my ears I would.

“Yet things are still rocky in our territory. My ego can
bear admitting that I am a little fish, a guppy, and that I need your father’s
strength, his protection. You do realize he is a whale, don’t you?”

I snicker. I do not see my father as the strong one of my
parents. Now, if he’d said my mother…

“I know that you don’t want a husband. That is why I
requested time alone with you. Give me a chance, Giselle. Let me court you.”

I snort and it makes my throat scream in pain, leaving my
eyes watering. I’m not supposed to talk or cough or sneeze. Obviously laughing
and snorting are out of the question as well.

Lenka reacts with concern, trying to help me. “Are you all
right? Should I call the nurse?”

I settle down. I’m still breathing. I write
Damn tubes
hurt.

“When do the doctors say you will breathe on your own?”

I write
I don’t know.

“Your larynx was crushed?”

Broken. Crushed. The doctor could tell you exactly.

“You tell me what happened that night. A man did not do this
much damage choking you.”

I wipe off the whiteboard. Do I really want to run him off?
I think yes. I do not want or need a husband. I am not wife material.
A crowbar.

Lenka doesn’t even wince. “He meant to murder you with a
single hit to the throat?”

I shrug.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

I write
I meet men. Strangers. For sex. I want them to
hurt me. That’s why I met the man who did this to me. Does that surprise you?
Does that repulse you?

“You seek men out to hurt you?” I don’t expect Lenka to start
laughing. “You’re a masochist? And here my greatest fear in our match would be
that you were too much like your mother.”

My mother? What does my mother have to do with this
conversation? Wait, did my mother pay someone to kill me? I almost laugh but consider
that if she were going to kill me it would have been years ago. I’ve proved my
loyalty. I’ve kept my mouth shut.

“She is a terrifying Mistress. I am glad you are not cut
from the same cloth. That is not to say that I am happy you are promiscuous.”

He says promiscuous like it is a foul-tasting word, but he
caresses my cheek with a gentle touch. “Did he bind you?”

I’d expected him to. I write
No.

The look Lenka gives me is cold and calculating. “Did he
fuck you?”

I don’t want to think about what happened in the hotel. It
wasn’t a scene, not a typical one at any rate, unless forcible rape was the
prearranged condition. We didn’t have any communication about what would or
wouldn’t happen between us. Does it count as rape if you go willingly to a
hotel with a man?

If I think about it too hard it will begin to feel like
rape, and I don’t want to think of myself as a victim.

He hit me—as soon as we entered the hotel room—and the force
sent me to my knees. I’m not a baby; I’ve been hit before. Slapped. Close-fisted.
What made his attack different was the pure vehemence involved in his
follow-through. He pulled me up by my hair, forced me over the bed and fucked
me. Every hole. Repeatedly. And then the last blow left me unable to breathe. I
honestly believe he meant to kill me with the crowbar.
“You are judged,
whore, and I condemn you to hell.”

I wonder if that information would be valuable to the
police?

“You will be faithful to me.” Lenka pinches my chin, making
me meet his gaze. “Now that I know we are well-suited, you will not be given a
choice. I want you. I’ve wanted you since the first moment I laid eyes on
you—actually your photograph—and considered your father’s proposal. As much as
I covet his protection, the opportunity to Master you is even more alluring.”

I tremble beneath his threat, wondering how to get out of
this mess.

I wonder if I really want to.

He releases my chin and I am left missing his touch. I close
my eyes, not wanting to wrap my mind around the thought that this man might be
the Master I’ve been seeking. I have no doubt he will be unrelenting.

“When your father asks you for your decision, will you
refuse me?”

I don’t open my eyes.
You already know my answer.

Lenka grabs my shoulder and pinches. I make an inhuman sound.
My vocal cords can’t form a scream. Pain shoots down my spine and I can’t think
clearly. Only after he releases me do I consider that he must have applied
pressure to a nerve bundle, a pressure point. I’ve felt such pain before,
during a self-defense workshop, when the instructor demonstrated how pain could
stop an attacker in his tracks. Obviously the lessons didn’t stick or I
wouldn’t be stuck in this bed attached to a ventilator.

He pinches me again and need makes my pussy spasm.

I meet his gaze.

“Give me a chance to gain your love.”

Love or lust? I already lust him and that scares me. I don’t
want to be so ruled by desire that I will follow him anywhere.

I reach for the whiteboard and scribble.
I’m a California
kind of girl.

“Russia has its own charm. You will learn to love it just as
you will learn to love me.”

George

I retreat to the hospital’s coffee shop, debating the
intelligence of staying here and putting myself through this emotional
purgatory when I could just go home and close the door once and for all on this
relationship. A slap on the back takes me off guard and I turn to face Phillip.
“I’m glad I caught you.”

“I needed some food.”

“Looks like you need sleep.”

I shrug and look deeply into my coffee. There aren’t any
immediate answers on the shiny surface. I guess I assume Phillip will sit
because I’m not surprised when he does.

“It’s nice to see you here. This is where you belong,
George.” Phillip continues talking but I only half listen. I’m numb. I don’t
know what to think or feel. I can’t imagine Gigi’s father had anything to do
with her attack, but… I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt Gigi.

“Have you considered reopening your practice at all during
the years?”

I jerk at the question. “Not really. I don’t think the AMA
would be very supportive of that decision.”

“I’d support you. Others would too. We know you got a bad
rap, and what happened to you could have happened to any of us.”

I nod, believing him.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, George.”

God, I want to believe that but the doubts…

Why now? If I was going to return shouldn’t it have been
years ago?

“I’m not so certain I’m not completely at fault. The woman
upstairs is a mess. Who’s to say that isn’t a result of what happened between
us.”

“Did you lie on the stand when you said you were just
friends? Was she lying when she recanted her tale of abuse?”

“No.”

“Then why the self doubt? She obviously had deep-seated
emotional problems as a teen, she mutilated herself, she was on a one-way track
to self-destruction. Becoming an adult didn’t change that. You know as well as
I do that BDSM attracts a lot of practitioners who had dysfunctional
childhoods.”

“My childhood wasn’t dysfunctional.”

Phillip laughs. “We had the same childhood, most notably the
lack thereof. Growing up in boarding schools we matured without basic
nurturing. I don’t know about you, but I have a hard time connecting in
relationships. I fear intimacy and commitment because I don’t understand it.”

I make a face as my gaze droops to his empty left ring
finger. “I guess that means marriage number two fell by the wayside.”

“Marriage number two, marriage number three and marriage
number four. You’ve missed quite a bit… Did you ever make a trip down the
aisle?”

“No. Monogamy isn’t really a lifestyle I’m ready to pursue.”

I think I’ve made Phillip uncomfortable because he quickly
changes the subject. “The police have the security video from the ER and were
able to identify the truck but not the driver. It was registered to Roberto
Marconi.”

If I hadn’t been in the room with Gigi and the detectives
I’d be alarmed. “Yes, from what I understand it was her father’s gardener who
brought her to the hospital.”

“So I guess you are quite in the loop. Did you also know the
hospital was notified this morning that her parents want her moved to a private
facility?”

“No. Jesus. She can’t be moved.”

“Don’t worry. Gigi wrote on the whiteboard that she doesn’t
want to go to a different facility. We’ve got an excellent team of lawyers to
help her express her wishes if need be.” Phillip pats my shoulder. “I’m sorry,
George. I don’t know what I was thinking when I involved you in this mess.”

“Me either, Phillip, but now that I am, I am.”

Phillip shrugs. “For now maybe you should stay scarce.”

“What?”

“Look, her father has requested permission to post a
bodyguard outside her room because he feels like the hospital isn’t capable of
protecting her, and in the interim no visitors be allowed.”

“Shit.” My cell vibrates and I pull it out of my pocket to
see that Lin is calling. “I should take this.”

“I understand.” Phillip stands. “I need to get back upstairs
anyway. Think about what I said.”

“To stay away?”

“I know you won’t. I was referring to reopening your
practice.”

Unlikely. “We’ll talk more.”

I connect the call but am too late. I missed it. I redial
Lin, saying when she answers, “Sorry, I didn’t get the phone out of my pocket
fast enough. What’s up?”

“Nothing. I just got home from the museum. I had to make
sure they had all of my pieces displayed properly.”

“I forgot you were going there today.”

“As long as you don’t forget the dinner tomorrow night. I’m
very nervous.”

“You have nothing to worry about.”

“Will I see you tonight?” she asks softly.

“I need to be at the club tonight.”

“I could visit you there.”

“That isn’t a good idea.”

“Are you ashamed of me?”

“Ashamed of you? God no. Why would you think that?”

“Because I am so vanilla. I don’t fit into your world.”

I let out a heavy sigh and leave the table. That wasn’t what
I was thinking, not at all. I just know how nervous and uptight the kink makes
her. I want to protect her from the lasciviousness. Stepping outside I say
softly, “I like you the way you are, Lin.”

The sun is warm on my back as I stand on a balconied outdoor
dining room that overlooks a wide lawn and is surrounded by trees. It is past
the lunch rush and still hours before dinner and so I am alone. “I wasn’t
comfortable when I took you to the club. I made you orgasm, but you didn’t
enjoy the scene.”

“I can learn to be kinky.”

My mind goes to Gigi lying upstairs in a hospital bed. I
think about her, the way she is, a true masochist so needy of pain that she
goes to any length to gain it. I think about the clients I see, most who come
to me in secret for a “fix” because they can’t admit their sexual preferences
elsewhere.

“I don’t want to force my lifestyle on you.”

“You aren’t forcing. I’m curious.”

I close my eyes against the bright sky and peaceful view
that reminds me of a fairway. I used to golf. I loved autumn especially.

I am nocturnal now.

Lewd Larry’s and my lifestyle changed everything about me.
It suddenly dawns on me that Lin reminds me of who I used to be. I miss that
guy. I miss my old life.

“Maybe I can skip the club tonight.”
I used to sail.
“We could go down to the marina, charter a boat and take a sunset cruise around
the bay.”

“I would like that very much, George.”

I would too.

* * * * *

When I pick up Lin hours later, I am tempted to cancel our
plans. She is so cute, so vibrant, so sexy, I want to keep her all to myself.
But she is also very excited about sailing. As we drive, she chatters
excitedly. “I am so happy we can go out tonight. Have I told you that I love to
sail?”

“You haven’t.”

“Oh yes. When I was very young my mother and I lived with my
aunt and uncle on their houseboat.”

“Really?” The image comes to mind of her as a very young
girl floating on a river in China. In my mind it starts raining and I see the
young girl shiver. I think it must have been a difficult life.

She nods enthusiastically. “It was the hardest thing about
coming to America, learning to sleep on solid ground without the waves to put
me to sleep.”

I force myself to refocus on the beautiful woman next to me.
“There’s so much I don’t know about you. That must have been a very special
childhood.”

“I think it was much different than yours.”

I’d have to agree.

“I imagine you in private school blazers with every luxury.”

“But wasn’t that your life too, Lin? After you came to
America to be with your father?”

She looks away. “I never fit into that life. How could
I…when I couldn’t forget that in China we were very poor, scraping by on what
we could from the sea… When my every thought was for the ones I’d left behind?
I felt guilty over every meal that filled my belly. I felt guilty having a
jacket that kept out the cold.”

I see her as she is now, wearing an expensive designer
label, manicured, polished. “When did leaving the others stop hurting?”

“When I brought my grandmother here. When I could provide
for her every luxury.”

“And your aunt and uncle? Your cousins?”

“They refused to leave China. I cannot help those who refuse
to have more.”

“So your guilt was placated?”

She shrugs and tells me another story about growing up in
China. It soon becomes obvious how much she feels she lost by leaving her
family and culture behind.

Only when I park at the wharf do I admit, “Once upon a time
I wanted to sail the world.”

“The dreams of a child?” she asks.

The dreams of a man.
I don’t admit the truth aloud as
I consider what happened to that dream. It just disappeared, like so many
others, when I recreated myself out of the disaster my life became during the
trial. Sadly, I admit only to myself that I am only a shadow of the man I once
was.

Our conversation comes to a natural end as I walk around the
car to open her door. She takes my hand and steps out. She lifts her face to
the breeze. “It smells good here.”

A flock of pelicans fly overhead and we both watch their
progress before walking to the dock. Soon we find our yacht for the evening.

Boarding, she gasps. “Oh my. This is so beautiful.”

We meet the captain, his deckhands and our chef as we are
shown around the vessel. An hour before sunset, we set sail. Lin takes in the
changing view, I take in Lin.

I just can’t take my eyes off her.

I want to love her and protect her. I don’t want to
disappoint her. If it weren’t for my life, my lifestyle, I could imagine
getting down on one knee and proposing to her. I can imagine her carrying my
child.

I want to spend the rest of my life with Lin. God, how do
I make this work?

A luscious meal is carried out to us and we begin to dine
under a darkening sky. The sunset is beautiful.

“You are so very quiet, George. Are you sorry you are not at
the club?”

“This is perfect. Being here with you is the only place I
want to be right now.”

“So you aren’t thinking about that woman?”

Gigi? I haven’t thought about her since the moment I pulled
up in front of Lin’s loft and she stepped outside.

“No, I’m not.”

“I try not to be jealous. I remember what you said about
being polyamorous.”

“I’m not going to sleep with Gigi.”

She stops my hand from lifting another bite to my mouth.
“You have an unresolved past and she is much on your mind.”

“That is true, but it doesn’t mean I want to have sex with
her.”

“She’s a masochist.”

“I don’t want to have sex with every masochist in San
Francisco. Don’t do this, Lin. Don’t create a problem where none exists.”

I don’t realize how harshly I’ve spoken until a tear slides
down her cheek. The yacht passes under the Golden Gate Bridge and the sun
disappears completely behind the horizon as a fiery red ball. Only the candle
between us brightens our table. We should be romancing each other, not
fighting. What in the hell happened when I wasn’t paying attention?

“I want to be here. With you. Isn’t that enough?”

“I’m leaving the country in three days, George. You must
know how vulnerable and worried I am that you will be drawn more and more to
her while I am away.”

Honestly I’d forgotten about her four-city tour, or maybe
I’ve refused to think about what that would mean to our relationship. I refuse
to consider I may be anticipating her departure or that having her out of the
country will allow me to pursue whatever will be with Gigi without guilt. I
feel like two separate men most days.

The dynamic I share with Lin is a new one. I’m used to the
lovers I take understanding that I am polyamorous—with Lin I feel I am sneaking
around each time I visit Gigi in the hospital. She finds Gigi a threat even
though I’ve assured her again and again.

Reaching across the table, I stroke her cheek. “I am in love
with you. Please don’t worry. Let’s enjoy this evening.”

“I’m going to miss you. A month is a very long time.”

“And I will miss you, but this is your moment in the
spotlight, sweetheart.”

“I wish you would come with me.”

“Everything is in the midst of upheaval—with the changes in
management, changes in staff, the redesign and remodeling—you must realize I
can’t leave right now.” I tell myself that I am not skipping out on a
four-country tour with Lin just to be near Gigi. I wish that Phillip hadn’t
called me. If he hadn’t, would I be going with Lin?

Around us the city lights sparkle and reflect off the water.
It’s so beautiful.

“You’ve been so distant all evening. I have to wonder what
you have been thinking about.”

I lean forward, making her meet my gaze. “I’ve been thinking
about you and how strange it is that my life is turning upside down because I
want to be with you.”

Lin frowns and I see it as insecurity.

“Because of you I want things I’d given up hope of ever
having. My being quietly thoughtful isn’t a bad thing in this case. I’m not
wishing I was somewhere else with anyone other than you. I’m only thinking
about how you and I might have a life together.” God, why did I say that? I’m
only going to end up breaking her heart.

She’s already confessed the outcome she wants—marriage,
children, me giving up my job for a more socially acceptable one. It becomes
apparent I’ve allowed myself to hope…

Phillip’s assurances have only fueled the flames.

“Oh.” Her eyes widen. “I feel so foolish.”

“No, not foolish, Lin. You wouldn’t be worried or jealous if
you didn’t love me too.”
I am the fool.

The rest of our meal and tour are subdued. For a romantic
evening, I’m failing miserably. I keep thinking about her offer to come to the
club tonight and for the life of me I can’t fathom why I thought it was a bad
idea. Isn’t the goal involving her more and more in the lifestyle?
Desensitizing her to the absurd so it becomes normal?