we were one once book 2: "A Dark Romance" (6 page)

14

“I think your girl wants to kiss and make up.” I’ve been searching the crowd in the main room for Red, but only found Cary in the middle of a group of women, all swaying and pressing against him, asses bouncy, lips glossy, and eyes glassy. Just his types.

He pulls his arm from around one girl’s shoulder and reaches for his jacket inside pocket. “Scarlet asked me to give you this. Made me promise not to look at it.” He hands me one of tonight’s printed itineraries, now tri-folded. “Is it directions to a secret rendezvous, Cuz? Can I join for being the messenger boy?” He snorts back his laugh as I give him a black look before unfolding the thick cardstock.

One glance at the short note and my heart sinks. “When did she give this to you?” My words are wooden and my tongue feels too big for the desert that’s become my mouth.

Cary sits up straighter, moving his arms off both girls at his sides. “Just a few minutes ago. Why? What’s wrong?”

“Which direction did she head in?” I can’t swallow; I can barely breathe.

“That way…” Cary nods and twists towards the main doors. He’s standing despite the languid arms pulling at his chest and pants. “Is something wrong?”

I hardly hear him as I’m racing to the doors. I manage not to knock anyone out of my way, but just barely. My shoes slide and squeak against the hard floor, coming to a stop just outside.

I register my heartbeat and the faster staccato of my breathing, but the headlights and flash of jewelry only dim against the certainty that she’s gone as my eyes rake through the small crowd outside.

I lost her. Again.

I
fucking
lost her.

Through a tunnel, I can hear Cary behind me, “Simon? Simon! You all right?”

15

Dead woman walking. That’s the phrase that clicks along with my heels towards the waiting car.

I take in the smug smile on Miles’ lips, how his hands are clasped in front of him, a child attempting to contain his glee at being handed his favorite toy. And the man to his right, shorter, stockier, alert to every movement, but not making eye contact with me. A third man stands just as hulking and rigid on the other side of the car.

Before my steps can reach the gravel drive, I take one deep gulp of air and hold it, swallowing down the smell of jasmine on the night as it mingles with the wine and bile threatening to bubble up my throat. I indulge in one last peek at the sky, memorizing the twinkling stars and a breeze’s soft touch.

This is the last effort of a condemned woman to bear witness to her own existence. I capture the feeling of being here, being free. Because in a moment, I won’t be. And may never be again.

All efforts lost and locked away, only a small scratched patch of stage awaits my future days. That or a locked cell in a hidden tunnel that time will forget.

I push my shoulders back, toss my hair and release my breath. I’m not one to be maudlin for long. I’ll leave that to Grace.

I’ve lived in lesser moments than this, memorized them to sustain me through bleaker times. I can do this.

I only hope Grace finds the same strength. Poor girl. She’s going to need it if she feels the memory of her last night with Miles the same as I do. My knees almost give with the remembered sound of her shirt tearing.

“I don’t want to be left in here, Miles.” Grace’s voice is small, but seems to echo off all the hard surfaces in the room.

Miles tilts her head up. “I know that, my love, but that’s not the same as giving me your decision. If…and I do mean if…you leave here, it will be as you are now. Not a different personality. Not hiding away from your punishments or anything else. You. Me. Us. Always.” He kisses her nose, like he used to do when he was first finding a way to be near us. Before he discovered how easily he could have exactly what he wanted with little effort. And Mother’s help.

Grace sobs in once, but we all encourage her to be strong. Lilly and Jill almost scream their words to help her say what she must. It works, because she’s finally able to stop crying long enough to look up at him. Or at his lips anyway. “Yes.”

“Yes? Yes what?”

She swallows and tries again, but her throat catches and she coughs through a few more sobs, spitting the words out hysterically, “Yes…I’ll do what you want…I’ll be what you…please…just let me out of here!”

Miles’ arms circle hers, soothing her back with gentle strokes and humming into her hair how happy he is with her decision. They stand like that for so long that all of Grace’s tears are spent and she only leans against him finally.

Baby crawls away, her own tears not stopped. Lilly, Jill and I are left staring at each other, unsure of what to do now. I don’t think we believe in this silence that we’ll be stuck here. Or that Grace will be stuck there. But I saw the look in Miles’ eyes. I know he’s determined. And mad. My thoughts race in every direction to figure a way out of this.

I’m so distracted that his voice actually startles me, “I’m very happy that you’ve come to this decision, Gilli. I knew you could be my brave girl.” He moves with her in a slow waltz deeper into the room until her back bumps against a wall. “But you’ll understand I’m sure that I need to be certain that you can really do this. For me. For us.”

My sinking fear is nothing compared to what Grace feels as Miles turns her to face the wall and gently lifts her wrists to be trapped in two cuffs that went unnoticed a moment before. Stretched up on her toes, her head thrashes from side to side to try to see him behind her, so close to the wall that her hips bump against it with each twist.

“You need to stay still, my love,” he laughs softly, his voice somewhere near the bed now I think, “I don’t want you to hurt yourself before we even get started.”

I can think of nothing to do to help her, but start counting deep breaths in and out, telling her to listen to only my voice. Lilly joins me in trying to get her to even her breathing out, to match the pace I’m setting for her. If she keeps hyperventilating and thrashing around, she’ll pass out and I’ll be forced to take over. And I have no idea what Miles would do to us then.

But being locked in this room is not an option. I repeat this phrase a few times, in a steady, hypnotic tone. This seems to work to calm her a little. Lilly picks it up like a chant and soon Grace is only shaking slightly.

This seems to please Miles. His hand on her neck causes her to jump and her shoulder fires with pain at the jolt, but she hisses through it. Her scream follows the rip of her shirt being torn from her back though and her breathing is lost once more in a panic.

Miles seems to wait for her to calm again. We can’t see him, but we know the familiar sound of a whip against a floor. He must have hidden it under the bed or, in the gloom, we just couldn’t see what was in plain sight. Either way, there’s no mistaking what he plans now.

“I know that I’ve never really had the pleasure of hurting you before, Gilli. I know that all those times with your Mother or me…it wasn’t you.” The crack against the wall to the right of Grace has her screaming even though her back is left untouched. “I know that you’ve never really felt what I’m about to do to you before.” Another crack to her left and her voice is already wearing thin from straining. “And it does please me to know that only I will ever have you this way, my love. That all those times I had to share you with Anya…this will be a fresh start for just you and me.”

Jill jumps to take over, but Lilly and I hold her back. There’s no point in showing anger against Miles’ torture. She’d be just as trapped in the cuffs and this room with the maniac as Grace is now. Our only hope is for Grace to have courage. And for this to be over quickly.

But Miles is prolonging the inevitable, enjoying drawing this out. And we’re all powerless to stop him. Powerless to help. Being locked in this room is not an option.

“And you’ll feel everything this time, my love. Because if you don’t…If you run from here back into that little messed up brain of yours…then I’ll leave you here. And I won’t come back until you’re ready to face your punishment. Because you’re not leaving this room until you’ve proven to me that no matter what…you’ll stay my sweet Gillian.”

When he does start, when the whip finally falls on her back, even I forget to breathe. I forget everything except the sound of the crack, the feel of the burn, the shake of her cries. In this tight of a space, I wouldn’t think that he could get as much force behind each blow, but he does. He’s had a good deal of practice to make every inch of the whip count. And he doesn’t stop with a few lashes. His grunts continue to follow the snap just before the leather bites into her back over and over.

And when it’s done, when he’s panting behind us, she no longer cries out. She stopped screaming some time ago. But screams would have been easier to take than the incoherent sobs that escape her shredded throat now. Or the animal grunting from him as he moves closer and pushes her pants off, pulling on her arms that barely bear her weight anymore.

Or the sound of his pants dropping with the whip to the hard floor right behind her.

Or the feel of his tongue lapping over the open gashes on her back.

Or the feel of his hands rubbing the warm stickiness of her blood into her back, stomach and finally down into the hair and space between her legs.

Or the feel of his hardness as he rubs himself against her back just before entering her roughly where he’s never taken her before, her blood only making it a slightly easier violation.

She has no more screams for this new pain, only more whimpers, more incoherent sobs.

And it’s easier to take now that her mind has given up trying to hold on, now that she’s numbed to the pain.

16

The anticipation of this moment has been too difficult for it to be over too quickly. The drawn out nature of her walk now is fitting. Her small steps crunching their way to me make the perfect soundtrack to this moment. I can hear her hesitation, her unwillingness, with each slow drop of her foot. Yet, still she comes to me. I’ve waited to have my life righted again. Lived too long with the upheaval of her disappearance.

I devour everything about her unhurried approach, even if it isn’t my Gillian. Yet.

The sway of her hips pushing the length of red silk back and forth, mesmerizing and suggestive. The dip in the front is a bit much for my taste, the expanse of creamy smooth skin and soft swelling breasts a little too exposed. But I know this isn’t a dress Gillian chose, so I can forgive it.

I smile as she gets closer, I can be magnanimous in all that I can forgive. So long as she plays nice. Plays by
my
rules. I know my Gillian will. I know in my heart that it wasn’t
she
who left me.

I close the small distance to meet her, pulling her into my arms, pressing her to my chest. The rapid flap of her heart is a hummingbird against my suit jacket. She keeps her arms to her sides, but doesn’t resist my embrace.

A car door opening behind us is the final click to the soundtrack. I feel her lungs expand with a deep breath in; I can hear the little hitch in her throat before she slowly releases it. I don’t need to look down into her eyes. I know already that she’s changed. I can feel her body yielding to me more.

With my lips against her hair, “We’ll never be apart again, my love.” She brings her arms up to my sides, not quite reciprocating, but an acknowledgement nonetheless.

17

Gillian pulls herself into the leather seat more, tucking her legs under the skirt of her dress and twisting her upper body to the window, her arm and hand covering the gash of exposed flesh at the front of the garish dress.

From the drive in the car punctuated by sharp commands from Spencer to his men to waiting for our take off now, she hasn’t spoken a word. Her eyes have barely made contact with mine. But she’s been responsive, obeying only the slightest instructions from my fingertips to get in the car, to walk up the steps to the plane, to take her seat. Silent, but obedient.

I pull off my suit jacket and drape this across her front, pushing it behind her shoulders to stay in place. Her lips curl into a small smile, but only her chin lifts up to me. Her eyes remain on the darkened night outside my plane.

“Look at me.” Her eyes reluctantly follow her head back up. I cup her chin and fold my upper body over the space she’s tried to create with her distant stares, “Have you forgotten your manners, Gilli?”

Her gulping swallow pushes my hand with her chin, “Thank you.” A sweet, soft voice, tiny against the whirring start of the plane.

I let her go and sit on the chair facing hers. She doesn’t take her eyes off me now. I can’t tell if she trembles under my coat or only feels the movement of the wheels across the runway. Either way, I’m turned on. Her beautiful, dark eyes never waver.

I see the flight attendant heading our direction and wave her away. “I don’t want us to be disturbed, my love. But, please, let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Miles.” Her lips barely move, but hearing my name from them again after all this time is enough to make my cock spring up. I can feel the painful pressure pulsing against the seam of my crotch. And I like it. I never get as hard as I am now except with her.

“I think we should clear up a few things before we’re home. Don’t you?” She only nods and blinks rapidly. Her blush and lipstick stands out a little more against the paling of her face.

I have had plenty of time to think about what I would say to her when I at last found her. It’s changed over the course of the years, as her disappearance changed from a possible kidnapping to an obvious slap in my face, but all those words come down to one. “Why?”

She stops all blinking. I can see her eyes take on the subtle emptiness that indicates her withdrawal into herself. It’s quickly changed into a look of aggression and challenge, her cheeks flaming with a barely bottled rage. “
Why
? You ask
why
?” She laughs and leans forward, my jacket slipping from her shoulders. I can’t stop my eyes from caressing her. “You know why, Miles.
I
had to get her away from
you
.” She nearly yells this at me over the increased engine purr.

I smile and am pleased to see her sit back in her seat again, an unconscious submission on her part to the fear I know she’s trying to hide.

I wait till we are in flight to continue our conversation. She’s turned away from me again, her eyes and jaw set in angry profile. But her fingers tap nervously on her leg.

I know this version of her well. She feigns invulnerability, but she can’t keep it up for long. Like an animal pinned in a trap, she’ll try everything to get free. But eventually she wears herself out and lies down for her inevitable end.

I have only to close my eyes and I can see the first time I truly knew this side of her. It was the first time I became fully aware of her splintered identities. I’d noticed funny things about her from the start and saw her Mother studying me whenever I was around her. But once I saw the truth, I was amazed that I hadn’t seen it sooner.

I lean back more, stretching my legs wider, palms flat on my knees, continuing to smile at her, “Do you remember the first time I told you that I knew you were…different?” I can see that my question surprises her, she’s unable to keep her coy and calm look in place for a moment, turning to face me again.

“Yes. Of course I do.” She removes my jacket, folding it over the arm of her chair, before moving to cross her legs. The slit on her dress falls open even more. I’m able to keep my eyes on her face this time, even when she runs her fingers along her thigh and up past her breasts to rest on her throat. I can see that she meant to hide her need to swallow her fear down to continue in a steadier voice. “The roses had just been trimmed and there were petals still on the ground.”

I smile at her depiction, this side of her was always poetic. “I still can’t smell a rose without thinking of
you
.”

She bends her head, looking seductively up through her lashes, “Then why did you try to get rid of me?”

I ignore her question, “I saw you heading out to the gardens from my window that day. I was curious about why you would choose to go there with a storm threatening and after all the flowers had just been cut down. You never told me why.”

She sits up more, weighing an inner dialogue about sharing anything with me. The part of her most hidden wins out and she can’t help herself but give in, “I liked the idea of thorny things growing back stronger after they were cut down. I wanted to see for myself.” Her wistful sadness drapes her words in even more poetry.

“That was also the day I promised to keep you safe from your Mother, as long as you didn’t keep any secrets from me again.” The hint of reprimand is unnecessary, my voice is sufficiently chilled. She’s been keeping lots of secrets from me, but that ends today.

I was hoping for a crack in her ice at my words though, but she only calmly blinks, lips gently pressed closed; her silence a rebellion against all that I know she wants to say to me. “I’d suspected something before that, you know? I noticed the changing between your identities before then. And when I would touch…” this is always the trick of a conversation with the many sides of Gillian, how to differentiate between her personalities. I refuse to play her games though. The doctors said it was better to treat each one separately, but they didn’t really know Gillian. They had no real clue how to free her from her warped and trapped mind. “When I touched and I could see that it would hurt, even when I was gentle...”

She interrupts, “That wasn’t
me
. I think you know too well that
I
don’t hurt so easily.” Her lips bow up in a small smile, “I remember that just as you walked up behind me, I was startled and pricked my finger on the stem I was holding.” I return her smile slowly. I won’t let her see the rise in my anger at her challenges. “Your mouth was warm around my finger, sucking on the tiny drop of blood.
You
never told me if you liked it.” I lean forward to better emphasize my words over the plane’s vibration while keeping my voice low, but she tosses her hair to the side and looks away, continuing before I get a chance. “Of course, I now know all too well that you like the sight of blood, so I suppose it’s a moot point.”

My anger barely held back by a thread of my will, I try again to crack through her false front, “I remember thinking that you acted particularly peculiar on that day. When the thunder and lightning started, you pretended to be afraid, pressing yourself against me. And after the rain poured so quickly over us, it was
you
that suggested we make a run for the pool house.” Her brows arch, but she doesn’t turn her head to me. “
You
wanted to be alone with me.”

Her head whips back, but she only presses her lips a little more tightly. “
You
wanted me to follow you out there. And
you
wanted me to touch you.
You
wanted me to know about your mental state.”

“What
I
wanted is another moot point.” Her voice shook a little that time. A small crack. “It didn’t matter then and it certainly doesn’t matter now. Not to you anyway, Miles.”

“What matters to me is
Gillian
. It’s all that’s ever mattered to me.” My own voice shakes with the conviction of this.

She lowers her eyes and her hands cross as a wrap over her shoulders. Her voice is small, almost as sweet as my Gillian’s, but still deeper, huskier, “
I
never mattered to you at all?”

I wait till her eyes raise to mine before answering in a quiet, steady voice, “No.”

She scoffs as a means to hide the tears she fights. But her hands relax into her lap and she smiles serenely at me. “Then you are a fool, Miles.” She laughs harshly, “You think that the girl you call Gillian will ever be what you want on her own?! You nearly killed her! You are a bigger fool than even your Father thought.”

My hands are on her throat before I feel myself lift off the chair. I see the bulging of her eyes and veins as I feel the squeezing of my fingers around her. Her hands claw at mine, but I am steel against flesh with no release.

I let go finally with the breath I held in disgust, shoving her against the leather backrest and shakily sitting down.

I force my limbs and back to relax into the seat as I watch her hands go to her stomach and throat simultaneously, coughing for air and glaring at me.

I slowly smile, control of my own breathing returning quickly to me.