Angel
I couldn’t believe what I was laying eyes on. My sister.
We were in Mexico. We were on a huge lavish estate. And I was staring at Holly.
She was more beautiful than ever. She had really blossomed. She didn’t look like a little girl. She was a woman.
Beautiful wavy blonde hair that was now nearly to her waist. Same sapphire eyes as me. And our Mother.
Her head belonged on a shampoo bottle. Her face on a vitamin bottle. She was the absolute picture of purity and beauty. She had a dancer’s body, a toothpaste commercial smile.
Her eyes were shining with tears. I felt tears burn in my own eyes, too.
She stood, wearing a pretty white chemise sundress and ballet flats.
She stood beside a tall, dark-haired, sort of scruffy but extremely handsome and well-dressed man in the foyer of his beautiful mansion. But that was as much as I could take in beyond Holly. Because I was standing here, looking at Holly. In. The. Flesh.
She was make-up free, jewelry free, collar free. Nothing on her throat. Nothing.
I felt for my collar.
I made an ugly cry sound.
She ran for me. I ran for her. We collided with laughter and tears and sobs.
“Hey Holly. Nice to meet you,” Dare said a moment later.
“Hi,” Holly’s hold on me loosened enough that she could look up at him with a big smile.
“Why don’t we leave these two time to chat?” the man with Holly suggested to Dare. Dare gave my shoulder a squeeze.
“Not comfortable leavin’ her alone, Romero. No offense.”
“None taken. As long as you do not ever refer to me as Romero again.”
Uh oh.
***
“He says he’s gonna marry you. But what do you want?”
We were in Alessandro Romero’s quarters. Us in his room, he and Dare in a sitting area outside the bedroom door. It was a separate section of the mansion and it was lavish. This was a few days after Holly’s birthday. We’d had a beautiful Christmas at home and this felt like a belated Christmas gift.
The way my little sister had looked around in awe when we’d gotten in here was a surprise. Had she never been here?
“To marry him.”
“Holl.”
“Ang.”
I made a Marge Simpson noise.
“What? I want to.”
“Has he threatened you? Told you to pretend that you’re okay with this? If he’s threatened you…”
“I want to marry him.”
“Holly, Dare and his brother can help get you out of here. This place, it’s---”
“I’m fine. I’m even better now that I know you’re okay.”
“Has he been abusing you, honey?” I touched her arm.
“No, Ang. I’m an eighteen year old virgin. I’ll be a virgin until my wedding night, I’m guessing. My virginity goes to Alessandro. He’s earned it.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“You love him?”
“Yes,” she got a faraway look and flashed me her dimples. God, I’d missed those dimples.
“Does he love you?”
“I … don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“It’s… complicated.”
“If he doesn’t love you madly, deeply, and he is who he is?”
How could I finish that? I’d love Dare whatever he did. Because he was Dare.
But this was my baby sister. This was Holly!
Was Alessandro Romero someone worthy of her love? How could he be with his ties to the human trafficking industry? Dare rescued me. Alessandro kept Holly.
Okay, so Dare kept me, too, but he was thrust into the human trafficking world. I’m not a slave any longer.
But, it’s Holly who doesn’t wear a collar.
My mind was a bit boggled.
“He told me what happened to you. I’m sorry, Angie.”
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how much she knew.
“What were you told?”
“I was told that you did what you did for me. You didn’t have a choice, but you did it for me, anyway. That you endured unspeakable things. I’ll never forget. Never. I’m sorry you had to go through it. But it wasn’t for nothing. I’ve been safe. I’ve been okay. Because of Alessandro. He has kept me this way. And maybe you did have something to do with that. Whatever you had to do got me sent here so I’d be safe. You’ve been protecting me since I was little.”
“But you haven’t been free, Holly. He’s kept you here hidden away in a place that… you do know what he does, right?”
She shook her head, her golden locks bouncing, “I don’t want to talk about what he does. I’ve pieced some of it together. It doesn’t change anything for me.”
“Honey, he---”
She must have Stockholm syndrome.
“Angie, please. I don’t want to talk about it. Have you talked to Mom?”
“Have I…have I what?”
“Mom? Does she know about either of us?”
My brain did some sort of backflip just even considering our mother.
“Uh, no. Are you fucking kidding me? Dare send a PI up there to find out what happened to you and she didn’t give a shit about either of us. She’s a junkie and a drunk who doesn’t care about anyone but herself. The last words she said to me were ‘Good riddance to bad rubbish’ and she meant it. I feel the same about her.”
We were both quiet for a minute.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. Holly looked older, more beautiful than ever, but it was like I wasn’t sitting across from my baby sister. It was like she was someone else. It was surreal.
I guess I should’ve expected it to feel different. We’ve been apart for over two years and a whole lot had happened to the both of us.
I don’t know what I was expecting. I haven’t a clue what she’s been through. I would never ever want her to know the detail of what I’d been through.
My relationship with my sister would likely be different from what it had been. We lived in different countries, for one. We were both with “connected” men. We’d both been stolen away from our lives and imprisoned.
I’d found my happily ever after. I only prayed that she would, too. Here, in this place, I didn’t think she could.
“Forget the negative stuff. God, Angie, it’s so good to see you,” she said and I looked at her.
“No one calls me that.”
“What do they call you?”
“At the place I was at, they called me Felicia.”
Holly sucked in breath, her mouth in an O.
“It was a punishment, a way of breaking me. Convincing me I was someone I loathed.”
She knew how that’d impact me, being called my mother’s name.
“What about Dario? What does he call you?”
“Angel. He didn’t even know my real name but he called me that a couple times and I took it on as my new name.”
“That’s what your dad called you.”
“Yep.”
“New old name.” she smiled brightly.
I felt a little bit warm inside.
“Have you contacted anyone else? People in South Carolina?”
“No. Up until now it hasn’t been safe. I’ve only been out a few months. Hopefully I can. Eventually. Dare told me that Charlie and Betsy still live on my Dad’s farm and that they’ve been putting money away in my account, I guess dividends from the farm, for if I ever turn up. I don’t wanna put them in danger though, so I’m gonna wait a bit. I’d hoped that was where you went.”
“It’s where I’d have gone if I could’ve,” she smiled at me, “But, don’t wait too long. Never know what can happen.”
“True that.”
My little sister was wise; she always had been. I’d ask Dare if maybe we could consider visiting at some point. I, at least, wanted them to know I was okay.
I didn’t know how my sister and I would have a relationship with her here but for now, at least I knew she was okay.
“You gonna go see Mom? If Dare says it’s okay?”
I frowned, “No.”
“What if seeing us, if us talking to her after all this time could help her decide to get better? What if she isn’t getting better because she’s lonely?”
I’d heard stories from Holly about how awesome our mother was before Holly’s dad died, how he’d gotten her sober. I’d never seen it.
“Let’s talk about Mom later. Right now, tell me about you, about your life here.”
She gave me a disapproving look.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re looking for reasons to convince me not to marry Alessandro. Stop that, Angie. I can barely wait to become his wife.”
She may be eighteen now but my little sister was looking to me to be as naïve as she’d been at fifteen, when I’d first left for Thailand.