Thousands
With just a fraction of space between the door clicking home, and only half her face visible, she murmured, “I suggest you get some rest or play your cello or do whatever it is you do to find peace because until you give in, until you trust, until you allow yourself to live rather than stay chained up the way you have been, you’re not going to be happy.”
Her final words as the door closed were, “And I want you to be happy. With me.”
Chapter Fourteen
______________________________
Pimlico
I DIDN’T LOCK the door.
I probably should have.
Just like I probably shouldn’t have antagonised him, especially after he’d come back and been fully prepared to break me out of jail.
I didn’t mean to make it harder for him...he just made it so hard to love him.
He’d coped with having me around the first time because I was recovering and lost—not to mention mute. The scraps of his affection had been as unique and beautiful as stars.
But now, I was awake and ready to feel everything. And those scraps and stars weren’t enough anymore. I wanted planets. I wanted galaxies.
I wanted his heart.
He couldn’t blame me.
He was the one who brought me back. I’d walked away to prevent this from happening.
Currently, my very presence hurt him...so what did he hope to achieve? Did he expect to keep me close but never see me? To know I was safe but never touch or speak to me—as if I were a priceless figurine polished and shatter free on his mantle?
I don’t think so.
If that was the case, then whatever this was would never work.
I knew what I wanted now, and after a lifetime of being someone else’s, I was ready to bravely go after it.
Besides, Elder had acquiesced to my hunting him the moment he’d marched into that police station. I wouldn’t let the guilt at picking a fight with him make me forget that part.
Yes, he was off somewhere, no doubt livid and cursing my name. But wasn’t that better than being apart? Hadn’t the past few days shown us that pain had many layers and pain apart was unbearable compared to pain together?
Ugh! Men.
Pacing in my lovely room, I didn’t reacquaint myself with the furniture or balcony. I merely kept moving, allowing my brain to sort through this mess so I could stop thinking about it.
Slowly, my anger subsided and remorse settled instead.
Damn...
I’d pushed Elder too far, too fast.
I’d embraced confrontation instead of diplomacy.
What I should’ve done was hugged him and thanked him profusely for being so generous.
What the hell was I thinking?
For someone to take me on was a massive responsibility. I came with baggage and not just the slavery-suitcases that were full to the brim, but also the empty parcels just begging to be filled with new experiences.
It was those reasons that made me a hard to care for lover.
I’d been denied so many enjoyments and luxuries, it had made me greedy. I wanted to grab each life morsel and indulge in every activity. I wanted to eat delicious food instead of leftovers in a dog bowl. I wanted to kiss every sunrise after being locked inside for years. And I wanted to be loved and to love after only knowing hate.
There was nothing wrong with that. In fact, if I had to guess my mother would say that was healthy. Only, Elder was in the unfortunate place of being the one I’d chosen and not able to give me what I needed.
I was frustrated and annoyed at him.
He was frustrated and annoyed with me.
We’d skipped happy courtship, sprinted through contented marriage, and headed straight for a bitter divorce.
I came to a stop in the middle of the room.
I didn’t want to think about this anymore.
I can’t see a way forward.
On the one hand, I could return to my old life, finish my degree, seek out friends I never cared about, and leave. On the other, I could play by his rules for a time and see if there was some way to, perhaps not break them, but bend them just enough so we could both be happy.
It wasn’t late, but exhaustion fell over me. My feet guided me toward the bed, my hands tugging at my clothing in preparation of warm sheets and hopefully healing dreams.
As I climbed into bed, I wished I could apologise.
To whisper that I hadn’t meant to be such a problem.
I only wished he could see how much I cared for him. How much I wanted to curl into his lap and watch TV, to wipe away ice-cream from his bottom lip after sharing a dessert, to wrap a towel around his waist after indulging in a shared shower.
There was so much I hadn’t experienced, and Elder didn’t want to do any of it with me.
Elder had said he knew his limitations and expected me to learn mine.
Well, I already knew.
Love.
Love was my limitation and flaw combined.
I needed to love as much as I needed to be loved.
It wasn’t a whimsical thing—it went deeper than that.
If I was to put myself on the couch, if I (heaven forbid) ever asked my mother for advice on romance, she’d probably say that need was a by-product of what’d happened to me.
For so long, I’d hated humans.
Despised men.
Cursed life in general to such a point I craved death.
But now, I was obsessed with living.
Of living to the maximum of my capacity.
Of giving my heart wholeheartedly.
Of falling in love chaotically.
Of soaking up every wonderful moment of togetherness that I could.
That was my flaw.
And it meant I would struggle every second of every day to stop my flaw from playing havoc on Elder’s.
But I knew something he didn’t.
Beneath his fixating mind and horror at causing more pain, he carried the same flaw I did. In the beginning, I hadn’t seen it. Now I understood because his aches and bruises were the same as mine, and just like mine, they couldn’t be tended to with bandages and pills.
He craved love, same as me.
He gasped for connection, same as me.
He needed physical touch so much it stole his humanity and turned him into someone he couldn’t control.
That was the true problem between us.
Not OCD.
Not abuse.
Love.
And the one issue we might not overcome.
* * * * *
Two things: I didn’t sleep well, and Elder didn’t visit—despite my door remaining unlocked all night.
After living a few days on terra firma, the sensation of rolling water wasn’t as comforting as it once had been. The slight queasiness of sea-sickness kept me company, even in sleep, prodding me awake to stare at the door, begging it to open.
All night, fantasies had tormented me: of Elder creeping in, me opening my eyes, all hooded and hazy, to see him standing over me with such a depthless adoring look, I instantly became wet. I’d open the covers, beckon him to join me, and sigh in relief as he cuddled me into his body.
The rest of that fantasy had become so X-rated that bubbles and dustings of untended to desire kept me hyper-sensitive for the rest of the night.
With my mind full of him, I showered and dressed in a simple black shift to begin my day.
I didn’t know where Elder was and I tried not to seek him out. I made a promise to let him be and focused on everything else to keep my loneliness at bay.
I breakfasted on my own, thanks to visiting the kitchen and being gifted two warm freshly-baked croissants, smoked ham, and cheddar cheese with a bottle of squeezed apple juice. I took my stash to the top deck and had a picnic—sitting cross-legged on one of the canvas-wrapped lifeboats.
By the time I’d finished, I was dopey from the sunshine and turning pink.
Deciding I needed some sun protection and to walk off m
y breakfast, I explored the decks I’d never been to.
There was no one to tell me no and no Elder to warn me otherwise. Entering the lift, I went to the bottom and worked my way up.
For hours, I investigated engine bays, staff quarters, engineering offices, store rooms, and spare bedrooms. Somehow, I managed to focus on how wondrous the Phantom was and not torture myself about its elusive owner.
I became entranced with a small but well-stocked library. I allowed fascination over crates with enough food for an army to keep me occupied. But then I explored the centre deck and my resolve not to think about Elder fell apart.
This place...
I trailed down the same wide corridors and thick carpeting as all the other levels, yet for some reason, this one had an air of abandoned desolation.
Everything was pristine: the painted walls smudge free, the skirting boards unblemished. It seemed as if everything had been decorated and then forgotten about—locked up and left with its original purpose no longer required.
Goosebumps sprang over my arms as I passed bedroom after bedroom, slowly growing more and more chilled.
A large suite with Japanese screens and a dressing table adorned with cherry blossom artwork reminded me all too well of Elder’s mother and the cherry blossom blouse she wore while screaming that she wished her son was dead.
This room couldn’t be for her...could it?
Hugging myself, I carried on.
Next was another suite—complete with cracked leather wingback and masculine décor—aimed for an elderly man but completely unlived in.
This place couldn’t be for his uncle...could it?
Trepidation tiptoed down my spine.
I’m not meant to see this.
I didn’t know how I knew, but this area was private.
Painfully private.
I should leave...
Even as I scolded myself, my bare toes sank into the carpet, propelling me forward. My eyes caught the next door—a splash of colour inviting me to peek.
Holding my breath, I inched farther and slammed to a halt in the doorway.
A child’s room.
A cute ruffle bedspread complete with carrousel floor lamp and shelving with Christmas in every cubby. Brand new toys sat in perfect packaging, waiting to be played with. A cream rocking horse, complete with silver mane and tail and baby blue saddle with reins waited to be ridden.
I backed away, my hand clamping over my mouth.
Oh, no...
Behind me was another room.
This one was taffy and butterscotch with a princess bed, child-size dollhouse, and a tower of bow-tied unopened boxes of Legos.
My heart literally broke.
Into pieces.
Into fractured tinkling pieces.
Wedging balled hands against my chest, I did my best to stop those pieces clinking together and giving away my trespass.
What did this mean?
What was this place?
Had Elder painstakingly designed each space for his cousins and aunts and uncles? Had he sent out invitations for them to join him, begging them to turn him from No One into someone again? Into an uncle...a son...?
Oh God, had he stood here, night after night, day after day with only shadows for company? How long had he sailed the seas with this agonising reminder that love had been stolen and never given back?
No wonder he fought me so hard on the subject.
No wonder he was so difficult, so prickly.
I choked on the blasphemy of family. I suffocated on the acidity of affection.
How did he survive it?
The relentless wishing for something he would never earn?
This was a secret I shouldn’t have seen. I collapsed into repentance.
All I wanted to do was embrace him. Kiss him. Show him his family might have forgotten him but I never would.
I would chase away the silence; I would scatter away the shadows. I would spend my life making sure he was never lonely again.
I have to get out of here.
What would he do if he knew I’d been down here? How would I look at him without seeing these empty unwanted rooms?
Inhaling hard, I tiptoed back the way I came.
It was late afternoon, and I still hadn’t heard from him.
Where was he?
What is he doing?
Pressing the button for the elevator, I fully intended to return to my room, shower away this terrible secret, and compartmentalize so Elder would never know. However, that was before a loud shout ripped my head up, directing my attention to the opposite way I’d explored.
A masculine shout.
A growl.
Followed by something smashing against a wall.
What on earth?
The lift arrived with a soft chime, but I drifted toward the raucous, jumping when another angry grunt shattered the quietness.
I didn’t want to see any more of Elder’s private pain, but I couldn’t stop myself.
Another shout followed by a male reply.
Elder and Selix?
I thought Elder’s office was on the upper levels, closer to his living quarters.
What’s he doing down here?
My toes ghosted over the off-white carpet, my black dress floating around my calves. I stepped lighter, wishing I could float so my breach of personal space would remain unheard.
I’d become a master at eavesdropping—thanks to doing my best to pre-empt what Alrik and his bastard friends would do next—but this time, I felt dirty trying to listen.
This conversation had nothing to do with me...
I should leave.
I didn’t.
Coming to a stop, the muffled shouts enunciated clearer through a closed door to my left. With my heart scrabbling up my throat, I pressed my ear against the wall.
“Not gonna happen, Selix. For fuck’s sake.”
Elder.
My tummy clenched just hearing his gorgeous timbre.
I really shouldn’t be doing this.
I battled with right and wrong. I even pulled back a little and glanced at the waiting elevator. But then one word made me slam my ear back into position, and I gave up any guilt at listening.
Chinmoku.
“They’ve found you. You realise that, right?” Selix asked.
“I’ve been well aware since my mother decided to stay in my home without telling me. Or have you not noticed the number of times I’ve been on the phone, arranging a human fortress to protect my family?”
“Of course, I’ve noticed. You’re not the only one running this shit show. All I’m saying is, I think we should turn back—head to the warehouse. If you’re going to do this, we need more ammunition on the Phantom.”
“There’s enough armament on this boat to sink ten Titanics,” Elder growled. “If they attack us on the ocean, we’ll win. I don’t care about that.”
“Then what the hell is your problem? You’ve been sour for days.”
“My problem is I don’t know what to do anymore. Sail home and fight the Chinmoku’s underling dogs who are toying with my family, or hold my ground and hunt the head of the pack from where I have the best advantage.”
“You already have your family protected better than you ever could on your own. It’s not just you who gets updates, Prest. I help juggle those security guys, and they’ve been telling you all along not to bother coming. The Chin’s are relying on you falling for their bait and being easier to kill on land.”
A small pause before Selix added, “I get that you’re torn. That not going home feels like betrayal, but you’re doing the right thing. Stay the course. Fight the head. Ignore the fucking tail because you’ve got men to do that for you. Focus on getting your head on straight and—”
“My head is on straight.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” Selix snorted. “The mood you’re in? It’s fucking getting on my nerves.”
A warning grumble came through the wall followed by Elder’s r
etort, “Well, that makes two of us.”
“What’s up your ass?”
“I’m fucked off because I don’t understand how they knew she was with me.”
“What?”
My forehead furrowed with the same confusion as Selix.
Elder said, “When I hacked into the Monaco police records, I wasn’t the only one who’d infiltrated her record. Someone else deliberately looked up her file.” A slight pause. “They didn’t use her name, though...”
“What did they use?”
“QMB.”
“QMB?” Selix asked.
“Quarterly Market of Beauties.” Elder’s voice turned dark. “The place where Pim was sold.”
No one spoke for a moment; my heart roared so loud it threatened to overshadow my ability to listen.
“Oh, shit,” Selix said. “You don’t think...?”
When Elder didn’t reply, my mind ran rampant with questions.
Think what?
What did the QMB have to do with the Chinmoku?
Why had someone else accessed my file?
Was it Monty?
Was someone still hunting me?
Was whoever in charge of the slavery auction hunting me down to silence me?
What?
Elder finally muttered, “What if the Chinmoku are the directors of the QMB?”
The question hung heavy and unanswered, winding around my heart.
Selix didn’t reply.
Elder answered his own pondering. “I always knew they were into trafficking. I was too young to fully understand how deep their ring went, but what if they know Pim was sold? What if they were the ones who sold her? What if they’re not only chasing me for breaking my oath but also chasing her to take her back?”
I stumbled away from the wall as a sudden vicious, vicious panic attack hit from nowhere.