we were one once book 2: "A Dark Romance" (3 page)

4

Turning to the corner, focusing on Simon, a smile plays across my lips despite all the stress of seeing Miles again. He’ll protect me, us. Look at how furious he is with his cousin just for bringing a stranger here…he doesn’t even know the truth about Miles, but he instinctively didn’t like him obviously.

Simon’s back and shoulders tense under his suit jacket, only accentuating his raw masculinity. His light blond hair and blue eyes add to his sweet good looks, at odds with the steel to his voice and the darkness I know that lurks under every stretch of his sculpted muscles. I lick my lips with thoughts of his body against mine.

I’ve never met a man like Simon. He’s flawed but beautiful, strong, all-consuming and possessive. He fills my head with desires so precisely, so exquisitely. His sensual mouth is only the start of my unraveling. I could spend hours exploring his desires.

Most surprisingly, I have yet to reach any limits with him. But I know he’ll take me further down to deeper fathoms. Either that or I’ll push him there myself. I arch an eyebrow at this pleasant thought.

The others don’t understand this, don’t understand him. Grace thinks she does. But only we understand each other.

Simon, my Trust, gets my desire to be completely open to the blackness inside just as he is, the exposed and unhealed within that the others so protectively hide from. I haven’t told him any secrets, but he instinctively reacts when I’ve ripped open the curtains and revealed a dark corner in my mind. When he sees my pain, the old and new, he pushes me to give it to him. To give in to his need to consume all of it and make it his.

The others don’t understand pain. Don’t get what it can be, what it can do. With the lash of a whip, I tear through the memories we five share and the darkest memories I keep to myself. I merge the feel of a new mark with ones I’ve worn in our past. I amplify the pain with the memories, adding fire to the fever of every sexual encounter, even the most vanilla.

It’s how we survived, how I thrived.

And with Trust, I’ve reveled in those memories more than ever before, I’ve searched them all out to bring to the surface, to give to him. I’ve taken strength in what they are. A beacon calling him deeper.

And he doesn’t back away from the darkness; he wades into the murkiest shadows with me. It’s a need we share that blends everything into one long grasp for the improbable. A healing to a tear, a filling of a void, a bending to a demand for more. And I give it all to him, laying open every remembered tear, every void, every demand to make it his own. Our own.

He’s given me this strength, to bow to his need. He so freely gives me this without wanting anything in return, but my acceptance of his need to have it all.

And I’ve succumbed to the absolute power of the man that pulls, culls, calls my unwitting submission. And I’ve embraced the power of my submission to draw him in further, to have him kneeling and worshipping what he’s conquered. I’ve known surrender and strength with him. True freedom. And a hell of a lot of orgasms.

I won’t call it love. I won’t degrade what we have with such a small word.

Love is what I had for Miles. Love is what made me his fool before. I’m not a fool with Simon; I’m his match. And that’s so much more than love could ever be. It’s perfection at its ugliest darkness. And I’ve never been happier.

I won’t give it up. I won’t let Miles take this from me. No matter what he’s planning with showing up here tonight.

My years of freedom, my weeks with Simon. I haven’t realized until this moment all that I’ve gained from both. A quiet strength. A deeper understanding of myself. My selves.

Our existences have always been troubled. It’s not an easy thing for me to admit, even to myself, that I haven’t always felt secure though. I’ve always had a clear understanding of my place on the stage, among the others. But out in the world, among people who are unchanging…I’ve been uncertain of my fit.

The pain of those doubts is one that I won’t be reliving or remembering. I’m through with doubts.

I know I have it easier than any of the others with this. I knew my place as the bearer of Mother’s sickness, letting most of it wash over me without carving a place in my heart. I took what she did. I took the pain and made it my own.

And I took what Miles did. And for a while, I called that love. But I won’t give up what I have now for him.

Simon will help me. Us.

5

“Never again, Cary.” I’ve kept my voice low. If I raise it, I’ll let more of my anger out than I want. I’ll not be able to contain the urge to pummel my cousin. He’s responded appropriately; nothing but apologizing and acquiescing, but I still want to throttle him for bringing a stranger here. An arrogant fucking stranger who rattled Red. Who dared to touch her. Fuck.

I turn as Red saunters slowly over to us. “Are you two done squabbling? I’m famished.” She appears to be back to normal. Whatever spell of fear she was under is gone completely. Her smile is teasing and helps to relax the last of my anger.

I give her a grin back and grab her around the waist to pull her in for a kiss. As always, Red anticipates my every move. Her head tilted back, lips parted, eyelids lowered but eyes challenging to take her mouth roughly. In response, my lips only whisper over hers, my tongue only darts teasingly over her lips. She slides a hand up my chest and around my neck in an attempt to pull me in for more, but stops with only the slightest shake of my head, our lips brushing over each other. Her hand turns to a fist in my hair, tugging slightly, but she obediently remains at my control. Her lips only parting more. I know she likes the anticipation as much as I do.

I can hear Cary moving away and it breaks the spell. I turn my lips to her cheek and take a deep breath in of her spicy sweetness from her hair. I’ll have to adjust the press against my zipper before we leave.

Red runs her hands over the sides of her dress, lips twitching with a secret smile for what she knows she does to me. I watch her take Cary’s arm and lead him towards the foyer, stifling the impulse to grab her away from him.

I’m not pleased with the prospect of seeing Miles again tonight, but it will give me a chance to set him straight on a few things. Red’s deep laugh trails ahead of me out the door.

Then I’ll get a few things straight with her too when we’re home tonight. Her and Grace…and the rest. Fuck. Shaking my head as the door is closed behind me, I must be as insane as she is.
 

6

The promise of what’s to come. That’s summertime in wine country. A heady anticipation of what science, devotion and hard labor can give birth to in a few short months. It’s also the perfect time to celebrate seasons passed.

Events in the valleys are numerous and usually avoidable for me, but Iron Horse was one of Grandfather’s favorites and he never missed a tasting if he was in town. An original bottle of sparkling wine still holds a place of honor amongst our racks of chilled champagnes.

My being here tonight is out of respect to him. It was something he said in the letter he left for me, a part of his legacy, his wish that I become the man he said he saw in me.

Despite letting our own lands lapse, Grandfather was a devoted follower to estate winemakers. He admired the will it takes to cultivate raw earth into liquid dreams. He pressed me to be inspired by the blend of romance and backbone. And this is one of my concessions to his dying wishes. That and the wine is exceptional.

It will hopefully help to take the edge off of my nerves tonight. After Red’s frozen state earlier, I was hesitant to bring her out in public. She laughed and flirted, more than I liked, during the ride here, but she also avoided my eyes. She didn’t blank or pull away, but something about her demeanor remained aloof and withdrawn. Each time I questioned her with my glances, she turned away.

With my hand firmly on her lower back leading us towards a group of small tables, I smile to myself. Shackled and flogged, I’ll get my answers from her tonight.

“Have you been to a barrel tasting before, Scarlet?” I cringe hearing that stupid name. Between Grace and Red, I already have a hard time keeping things straight. Now I have to contend with yet another name in the mix. And it’s my own fault. I quietly growl at my cousin; he hasn’t left her side. His shoulder and arm keeps brushing against her.

“No. But something tells me, Cary, that you’ll make an excellent instructor for a virgin…” He laughs and makes a promise to teach her everything he knows. My cousin may have capitulated to my anger earlier, but he’s also a smartass and doesn’t take being reprimanded easily, even by me. He’s only smiled sarcastically at me each time I give him a warning look to back off. Fucker has a death wish tonight. 

Red gives me her best innocent smile and latches her arm around Cary’s, “We’ll be right back, Simon.” Before I can grab her arm without looking ridiculous, she pulls him away. I grab the top of a chair to grip with the force I’d like to be applying to her throat instead. She’s been wickedly enjoying purposely pushing my buttons tonight.

Distracted watching her move among the crowd with Cary, I only become aware of the man to my right when I turn slightly. Miles is watching Red too, but his look is neutral. He turns with me and smiles at my hand on the chair. I release my hold and turn to face him fully. Good, someone I can vent a little of this hostility towards.

“She’s a lovely creature. A walking advertisement for your training?” Miles appears amused by the anger that is still plain on my face.

“
She’s
none of your business.” I say this low and quiet to not attract any attention, but there can be no mistaking the edge to my voice.

Miles feigns ignorance to its meaning though. “Oh. That’s too bad. I was interested in acquiring her…she’s
almost
perfectly what I want, Mr. Lamb.” He’s lucky that he didn’t add a lascivious look in her direction or I’d be walking out of here with a hit to my reputation and raw knuckles.

Before I can comment though, he leans in, taking more personal space than I care to share. “Of course, if you change your mind, I could make it worth your while…Money means nothing to me when it comes to getting what I want.”

I resist the desire to take a step away from his cologne, speaking clearly, but barely keeping the rising anger from my voice, “As I already said,
Miles,
I’m not the man for the job. And she’s not the woman either.” He again appears to size me up in some way. His eyebrows raise and lower quickly, coming to an inner assessment I don’t care to know about.

Taking a split second to calm my mounting rage, I’m able to meet his eyes with a little mirth and continue more in control before he can interrupt. “I’m sure Bradford explained that this is a business that requires discretion. I don’t think knocking on my door meets that criteria. Where did you say you met him?”

His smile twitches and eyes narrow minutely, but I get a better idea of the man in that brief moment. He’s not just uncomfortable; he’s fighting to maintain control of himself. Probably one of those men that think having a woman under his thumb would be the ultimate testament to his manliness.

But it takes a lot more than money to hold the reigns over any woman. And a man like this one just would never understand that. Even if I wasn’t too distracted with Red right now, I wouldn’t let Miles anywhere near one of my products. He doesn’t strike me as the type of guy to appreciate the amount of finesse it takes to turn a woman into a willing slave.

His brief break in a calm exterior over, Miles delivers his response smoothly enough, “I didn’t. And I don’t think it would be discreet to go into that here.” His palm indicates the people milling about close by.

It’s the only thing I agree with him about so far. But I’m not willing to let him off the hook that easily. “I’ve not seen you in Bradford’s social circle before…are you new to the Bay area?”

“I am. But I have family here.” He looks over the room, like he’s searching for someone. I glance around too, but no longer see Cary or Red. “I won’t be staying long though.” He turns to look me up and down once more. With his eyes narrowed again, “Unlike you, Mr. Lamb, I’m not retired. I have certain
obligations
that must be respected.”

His superior bullshit is spiking my anger again, but I manage to keep my voice even, “You should look for a new market for your product needs, Miles. I don’t think San Francisco is going to pan out for you. Enjoy your evening.” I walk away without another look at his smirking face.

That did a little to cool my anger, but I have a gnawing pit in my stomach still as I find Cary and Red, laughing in a circle of men. Clearly, she’s been her usual entertaining self. Her eyes sparkle when she turns to the slight pinch I give her back, right on a spot I know bears my mark. The corners of her mouth raise in a delicious smile. I can’t resist kissing each corner and running my tongue across her velvety lips.

Her eyes flick briefly behind me before turning back towards Cary. Her back is a little stiffer, her voice a little higher than normal as she continues talking with him. I follow where her gaze went and grind my teeth at a nod from Miles. He turns quickly away though and I lose sight of him in the crowd.

7

I can feel his eyes on me. Having Simon and Cary close only alleviates the tension slightly. I knew coming here tonight would lead to confrontation. I only hope that Miles will continue to be on his best behavior. He obviously doesn’t want to alarm Simon or reveal himself in any way. And neither do I. Not until I have a plan of what to do.

One thing’s for sure, I may not know what Miles is up to; but I know he won’t leave until he’s had his say. The bastard always had to have the last word. But I’m not a naïve 17 year old girl anymore either. Whatever game he’s up to, he won’t win. Not this time. Not if I can help it.

The others are all silent. Waiting for the implosion they’re expecting. I may have been thrown off by seeing Miles out of the blue after all this time, but I won’t be afraid of him. I won’t, dammit. I won’t let him make any of us afraid anymore.

But the quiet in my head is unsettling. I’ve never known this level of isolation. Having the stage to myself is one thing, but this feeling of loneliness is all new. My ears throb with my heartbeat. My throat isn’t able to stop swallowing, needing to get the lump down that just won’t budge. And my damn knees keep locking.

Simon’s hand is gentle on my back and side, but ever present. He seems intent on staking his claim with his overbearing physique. He’s pulled and pushed me away from any contact with other men in the area. That’s fine by me. I’m having a hard time keeping up with the surrounding chatter. My eyes keep dragging through the crowd, searching for a face I’d hoped never to see again.

Grace was the last to see Miles technically, but we all watched when he hurt her that last time, three years ago. The memory of that night is as vivid as any of my own. Lost in the depth of Simon’s embrace, I can’t stop myself from feeling everything again from that last night with Miles.

“Gillian, I’ve spoken to your doctors today.” Grace sits on his bed, hands laced loosely behind her back as he likes, eyes lowered to his lips as she likes. I can feel the excitement from her at being near him, with the door closed. I know I’ll be in her place soon by the look on his face though. Menacing is the word that bounces in my head. Whatever he wishes to say will be spoken with his whip as much as his words tonight. I feel a shudder of anticipation.

“They told me that you’ve made great progress.” He pats her head and she eats up his approval. “They said they’ve given you tools for fixing yourself…” I feel a new tension, my own, electric in its intensity. I feel only excitement from Grace. She leans into his hand still cradling her head. “But they also said you’ve refused to use these tools to their full potential, my love.”

A spike in my anxiety and I almost push Grace out of the way, but I hold off a little longer. Miles has steadily demanded more time with her ever since he introduced us to the doctors last year. And even though I no longer hold a place in my heart for him, because I know he doesn’t have a place for me in his, fool that he is, I still like the freedom of being out. And I still enjoy his brand of painful love. I don’t care if he pretends that I’m her, as long as I get what I want from him. Unlike when Mother was doling out the punishments, I wait now to exchange places until the last minute though. Because I know it’s Grace that he wants.

But I no longer care that he loves her. Or that she loves him still. Their love is meaningless to me as long as I get what I want in the end. And I have my plan for that.

Miles moves his hand from open to a fist in her hair, but still I hold off because he continues talking in his calm and distinct way with only a little pull to her head to bring her eyes up to his, “I’ve let the doctors go, Gilli.” A thrill of excitement from all of us at this good news is quickly thwarted as he continues, “You won’t be needing their help anymore, my love. I will help you to be whole.”

Grace doesn’t need a push from us to ask what we all want to know, “What are you going to do, Miles?”

Not the way I would’ve phrased it, but I wait to breathe until he answers, “Come with me, Gilli. I’ll show you.”

She brings her hands around and he grips both her wrists in one of his hands, leading her quickly out the door. Walking this way, with her arms as a leash, I can feel Grace suffering with the yank to her shoulders. But still I wait to exchange places. Something in how calm Miles is being makes me hesitate. I think he’ll reveal more to Grace than me. I always seem to push his more sadistic tendencies a little quicker than she does.

I smile to myself, hiding it from Lilly who is watching me from her darker corner of the stage. I don’t mind his violence, but I think it’s important to see what’s behind his getting rid of the doctors. And Grace will get that answer faster than I can.

Finally, Miles stops in front of a door, down a long, nearly empty corridor. It’s not so much a door as a panel to the wall in a part of the mansion that goes unused. Servants keep this area looking as spotless as any other, but I’ve only ever been here once before. Lilly tried to hide in one of the rooms when Mother first married Martin. She foolishly thought she could wait out one of Mother’s bad tempers in hiding. I knew better.

The panel of wood glides effortlessly open and reveals a black expanse of unknown size behind it. I didn’t see how he opened it. But it’s obvious as he yanks Grace through the doorway that he has a remote for it somewhere, because it shuts automatically behind her. When the door is fully closed without so much a sound as a gush of air, a light above her head goes on, providing a sickly yellow glow, but doing nothing to reveal the space still. Their footfalls echo as Miles leads her further in.

I can feel her heart pounding, smell the cool mustiness, but I can’t see beyond Miles’ back and the darkness around her in their slow procession. A few feet and another yellow light goes on, illuminating again only a small circle of the same cool darkness. Their progress continues another few feet until a final light goes on at a dead end.

Miles’ voice cuts the darkness, causing Grace to jump. “This house was used as a warehouse and speakeasy in the Prohibition era. My family ran liquor through here from Canada. This hallway we’re in now was part of their escape tunnel and connected with other tunnels and rooms before my Father converted it to a safe room.”

The dead end turns out to be another door, gliding as soundlessly open as the first. Miles smiles as he pulls Grace through the door. The sound of the click echoes when it shuts behind them. Another yellow light goes on and reveals a tiny cell of a room.

He finally lets go of Grace’s hands and she turns to face him. “He did all the work himself. And he made sure that the secret tunnels…this room…remained a secret. They were never on any plans or drawings of the house, even during the many renovations over the years.”

Miles moves closer, putting his hands around Grace’s waist and pressing her chest to his stomach. I can feel how her head warms with his lips pressed to her hair. “So you see, Gilli, in this room…it’s just you and me…and no one else knows we’re here, my love.”

I feel a cold shudder make its way up my back, reminding me of bugs with many legs. But I’ve never been afraid of bugs. Little things like that can be crushed so easily. But this room is too familiar, too similar. I feel the air turning hot in Grace’s lungs and realize she’s held her breath and risks fainting.

I take her place, brushing her aside easily. 

Taking in one deep breath of the stale air and steadying myself against the familiar feel of being closed in, I feel Miles tense against me. He knows the change now as it happens. Over the last two years, he’s become very familiar with all the subtleties to our personality shifts. 

He pulls back and looks into my eyes. And I look into his and am frightened. He’s not as I expected. He’s not angered by my being here. And he’s not pretending to still have the sweet look he reserves for only Grace. It’s a false front for what he harbors in his heart, but he still keeps the pretense of sweetness with her usually. But this is different. He’s not looking through me and seeing what he wants to see…her. He’s looking right at me, seeing me like he did when he broke my heart a year ago.

Grace may have been the last to see him, but I was the one who woke up the next day and was relieved to find that I was alone in my bed. Miles had left for work as usual. Like everything was normal. Poor Grace was curled in a ball in the darkest corner of the stage, not even crying, just whimpering. She stayed like that for a long time too. Even when I told her we were safe.

Miles had locked the bedroom door, probably told the staff that I wasn’t to be disturbed all day. He’d done that before. Locked us away, no food, no care. It was perfect for me, perfect for my plan. I wasn’t going to wait around for him to return.

The night before, the stage shaking with Grace’s screams, I knew I’d have to follow my plan. One I kept to myself while I held the littlest ones, Baby and Lilly. Jill wouldn’t join us, but stayed close in the corner, covering her ears during the loudest screams.

The doctors Miles made us visit said we should try to merge our existences and memories into one identity. That we could be whole again and healed if we embraced all five memories as one. All bullshit. That memory, of Miles torturing Grace that night, we all shared, each in our own way. We didn’t leave her alone, but we were helpless to save her.

I wasn’t helpless that next morning though. I acted quickly. I remember how the sheet stuck to my back, from crusts of blood dried overnight. I didn’t wince as I tore free though. I was used to that treatment from him, although he usually didn’t break the skin. It wasn’t pain that I relished like with Simon, but I could take it.

I washed the wounds the bastard made and smiled that he’d left my face alone as usual. He’d learned from Mother that beatings should be able to be hidden. It worked in my favor that day. I got us away. I got us enough money to hide and to live free from him.

The years before became a blur, a white hot steam that fueled me and blinded me to anything except my plan to escape. That last year with just Miles as our guardian was the hardest in a long line of hard years, but I didn’t linger on those memories.

Miles pushed us to be what he wanted, what we’d never be able to be. Without the threat from my Mother or his Father, Miles was free to let his more sadistic side out that last year together. But he was never as cruel as he was that last night. At least not with Grace.

We had to get away and I had to be the one to do it. I used all of the pain and fear I’d felt over the last two years with Miles to fuel my escape from him. And I didn’t let the others know my plan until it was too late to stop me.

On the bus ride to Sacramento, I explained it to them. I explained how we’d each have our time on the stage. How no one would ever tell us what to do again. How we’d take care of each other and we’d be okay. And no one would hurt us. No one would ever lock us in a lonely room again. I didn’t show the fear I felt at being alone. I knew we all felt the same fear.

That was before we met Simon. We never imagined meeting someone like him. Someone who could accept us as we are. His arm is loose around my waist, but I lean in so I can feel his warmth more. He smiles down on me, both of us lost in each other before his attention is given back to Cary.

I haven’t told him anything. We all agree that sharing our past is off limits, even with him. But he’s been surprisingly accepting of this too.

He treats each of us as individuals. And as much as it pains me to think, I’m sure he’s become fond of each of us in our own ways too. Although he doesn’t know our names. We’ve never told anyone, not even Mother, our names. But Simon has gotten to know all of us.

Baby secretly calls him Daddy. He buys her licorice and art supplies. He frames the pictures she makes for him. He even displays them proudly in his room and the hallways. He has breakfast each morning with her in private. We’ve smiled watching them. Her laughter threatens to crack the glass ceiling of the sunroom some mornings, but Simon always smiles and laughs with her.

Lilly takes extra time in preparing readings for him each day. She wants to impress him with her knowledge of the signs and planets. She’s always been too shy to read her horoscopes out loud for anyone; usually Grace would do it for her. But with Simon, Lilly has insisted on reading them herself. He’s been indulgent and thoughtful. But he never presses for information about our past or how she knows all that she does about astrology.

Jill has been the biggest surprise. She normally doesn’t want the stage at all, unless to react to her tormented, pent up anger. And she still doesn’t come out often around people, but every once in a while she’ll ask if she can sit with Simon. Usually just a few minutes at a time. And only when there’s a game or movie on that she likes, but still we’ve all been impressed with the calming effect on her. She hasn’t exploded with her usual rage since that first night with Simon.

And of course, Grace is in love with him. She won’t admit it, but it’s obvious with her soft mooning stares at him. She keeps the stage transparent mostly, but I’ve refused to watch him with her. She can have the softer side of Simon, because I know what he really wants. Me.

My plan had worked. We were away and safe. And with Simon, we each even had a little hope and happiness.

But now Miles is here. And I’m as alone as I was that day after he hurt Grace three years ago. The others are too paralyzed with fear to do anything but cower and wait.