Sasha

For the first time in my life, I just let down my guard and admitted that I’ve always dreamed of being a chef and owning my own restaurant. It’s no secret to my friends and family that I can cook, but I have always kept my talent at bay, and my dreams of cooking far out at sea locked up in a treasure chest on a pirate ship.

I have always known in my heart that I’m a good cook. But Enrique did a wonderful job of destroying my self-confidence in the kitchen, which should have been a blaring indicator to me that I was exceptional because he didn’t try to squash the hopes and dreams of adequacy.

He enjoyed breaking me down. It made him feel better about himself somehow. I never understood that, but I knew it just the same. When I started living with Twyla, I slowly began to display my talents, and she was careful not to go overboard with the compliments sensing that I needed time to build up my confidence again.

Now Xander is giving me a glimmer of hope that someday I might be standing in my own kitchen creating dishes that people will pay a fistful of money to eat. I shouldn’t let myself get carried away. Accepting Xander’s help would be the same as signing his and Victoria’s death certificate. It’s fun to let go and imagine it happening for a little while, though.

“Dishes are in the dishwasher, and Tori’s upstairs putting her pajamas on,” Xander says joining me on the patio. We decided one full day inside was being cautious enough, and honest to God, if I had to stay inside another hour, I was going to lose my shit.

“I wanted to talk to you quick before she comes down about her medication. The pills you’ve been giving her in the morning are to ease her anxiety. She takes them every day, but there are others for emergencies like today.

“I’m proud of her for keeping her cool today, and from the sounds of it, she didn’t need the break-through meds, but they’re there when she does. Also, at night, she takes something to help her sleep. I forgot to tell you about those, and that’s likely why she was up so much during the night last night.

“Anyway, those are in my bathroom in the medicine cabinet. She takes one at bedtime. She doesn’t like taking medicine, and I hate giving it to her, but she was a total mess before them. I couldn’t go to work, I couldn’t even go to the bathroom. She would have to sit right outside the door with it cracked while I pissed. She’s come a long way, even further since she met you.”

“Me? What do you mean?”

“Had a stranger been seen lurking around outside two weeks ago when she was home with Zion, she would have been hospitalized. She’s got PTSD as bad as a soldier who has just returned from the front lines of war. What she went through will make your skin crawl and give you nightmares.”

“What’s different about now?”

“She’s relaxed with you. She senses you’ve been through something similar, and she trusts you because of it.”

“Oh.” Wow, I feel kind of weird knowing I’m providing her strength. That’s a lot of responsibility, and what happens when I’m gone?

“Can we go for a walk now? Is it safe?” Victoria says from behind us. I turn, and she’s standing in the doorway clutching the edge of the door dressed in lemon yellow satin pajamas with a royal blue chiffon trim and a pair of matching slippers with bows on the toe. She’s better at dressing for bed than she is dressing for the day.

“Well, look at you. You look like a beautiful yellow bird ready to fly into dreamland,” Xander says holding out his arms for her. She runs to him, and he snuggles her close. “I think we can take a short walk on the beach before bed as long as we all go together. What do you think, Sasha?”

He’s asking me? Why because she didn’t freak out today when I called the police? Groaning inwardly, I make a wish that this isn’t the start of him asking for my advice. I’m still winging it with the kid stuff, and I have no business being asked what I think.

“Oh, I uh, I don’t know. Maybe you should make that decision, whatever you think is best.”

“All right, I think it’s fine. Let’s go before it gets dark.”

Now I wish I had given my two cents because panic is starting to set in. What if Enrique is out there watching, and Xander kisses me or holds my hand?

“Maybe we shouldn’t. I mean ice cream sounds really good, don’t you think, Victoria?” She looks from her father to me and back confused.

“Daddy?”

Xander’s gaze slides to me, and he takes in my nervous hands rolling the hem of my shirt and my bouncing knee.

“Yes, I forgot I bought that chocolate peanut butter cup ice cream last time we went grocery shopping. We haven’t even tried it yet, let’s go.” He stands and takes hold of my hands pulling me to my feet and into an embrace. At first, I’m relieved to feel his warmth all around me, and then I remember we are outside, and there’s still a little sunlight left.

I stiffen in his arms, and my heart pounds in my chest. Dammit, why is my body betraying me? At this rate, I’ll have to tell him everything just to keep my job for the next two weeks. Then when he knows, I’ll be fired for sure.

“Hey, you’re shaking like a leaf. Let’s get you inside.”

“Sorry, I guess the breeze is a little chilly.”

He pulls away holding me at arms’ length. “We are talking tonight. I know you’re holding something back from me, and we aren’t going to sleep until you tell me what it is.”

I nod my head. Maybe it’s for the best to tell him and go back home where the only person in danger would be me.

Inside, I try to brush off the sudden onset of nerves and eat ice cream with them, but I’m not fooling anyone. The rest of the evening they take turns shooting me concerned looks until Victoria’s eyes are droopy.

I turned my nervous energy into chatter talking until there was nothing left to talk about. When we go to bed, its honesty time, and I’m trying to put it off as long as possible. Xander knows what I’m up to, and he allows it until he can’t stand to watch his daughter’s head bob back and forth anymore.

“I’m going to put her to bed, her sleeping pill kicked in. Meet me upstairs in my office in ten minutes.” He stands taking his body heat with him. The right side of my body is chilly now, and I feel like I’ve been summoned to the principal’s office.

“Okay.”

I watch him walk away with Victoria limp in his arms. When they are out of sight, I take my phone from my pocket and check my messages. One from Twyla gushing about Xander’s house—she must have found the picture online. Another is from Sam at work asking if I’m doing okay after being fired. And nothing from Enrique since earlier today, thank God.

I get off the couch and pick up our ice cream dishes, rinse them out, and put them in the dishwasher nice and slow. No need to rush the inevitable. I straighten some books on the coffee table and put the remote away in its spot. The glass wall has enormous doors, and they are still open. I cross the room and shut them locking the regular lock and a deadbolt that connects to the floor.

I stare out into the dark and wonder if Enrique is still out there, and if he is, what is he planning? Suddenly, I’m extremely grateful for Xander’s security system, bulletproof glass, and steel doors.

When I turn around and survey the living room and kitchen, I sigh. It’s as clean and tidy as it’s going to get. I have to bite the bullet and go upstairs to talk to Xander about my past. I shut off the lights, all but one, and climb the stairs slowly.

I peek into Victoria’s bedroom when I walk past hoping that Xander will still be tucking her in, but he isn’t. She’s resting on her side holding her Miss Ellie elephant.

I continue down the hall until I come to an open door. Inside, Xander is sitting behind his desk looking at a computer screen. When he sees me, he closes the window on his screen and stands up.

“I thought we could talk in here, fewer distractions… not as many temptations as the bedroom.”

“Good idea.”

“Let’s sit on the couch. Can I get you a drink?”

A drink—hell yes, that sounds like a damn good idea. Maybe I’ll have a few. I don’t think I’m going to like what I hear tonight and a little dulling of the brain cells couldn’t hurt.

“Yes, please.”

“Wine?”

“Got anything stronger?” He looks at me with one eyebrow raised like the Rock. “What?”

“Nothing. Scotch strong enough?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He has a small bar built into the wall next to the sitting area. I watch him pour us both a double, and he hands me one before sitting opposite me. He’s serious about the no- temptation business.

“Sasha, you know I did a background check on you and nothing out of the ordinary came up, but I can’t help think you’re keeping something from me. Something important. We haven’t known each other long, but I want you to know you can trust me.”

I hold up my hand palm out. “Stop, it has nothing to do with trust. I’ve felt a strange connection with you since we met in the ER. I will admit, I have been through some things that aren’t on your background report, but I think the less you know about that, the better.”

“Oh you do, do you? Why’s that?”

“It has nothing to do with you.”

“Sasha, if there is a strange man lurking around my house during the day watching you while he smokes half a pack of cigarettes, I’m pretty damn sure I have a right to know what’s going on.” He’s right. He does have the right to know, and I should tell him. Maybe he could help me? Maybe he could stop Enrique?

No. Nobody can stop Enrique, not even the police. I have to end this now.

I scoot to the edge of the couch and lean forward clasping my hands together. “Xander, I’m so sorry. I know this will put you in a difficult spot, but I think the best thing for everyone would be for me to leave. Zion will be home Friday, and I’m sure you can find a temporary nanny for a couple of days until she’s back on her feet.” I have no idea how long that will be, and it breaks my heart to think of someone else stepping into my shoes when I’m gone, but it’s for the best.

“Absolutely not,” he says taking a long drink of his scotch.

“Um, what do you mean? You can’t hold me hostage here. If I say I quit, I quit.”

“You never said I quit.”

“Well, let me make it super clear then, I quit.”

“No.”

“Xander, it’s not up for debate. I’m quitting.”

“I agree, it is not up for debate. You are staying, and you are going to tell me what the hell is going on right now so that I can fix it and make you feel safe. Don’t open your pretty mouth again unless it’s to tell me who you’re afraid of and don’t you dare try to get up and walk out.”

A shiver of excitement runs up my spine, and I swear I felt butterfly zings between my legs. What the hell is wrong with me? I should be pissed that he’s bossing me around and upset that he won’t let me leave. Instead, I’m turned on and optimistic. Xander is powerful and wealthy, and maybe he can do something to help?

“I used to be married,” I start.

He wasn’t expecting that. I watch him sit back and take a deep breath.

“I didn’t come to California for the ocean. I came with my husband, Enrique Sanchez.”

“Your background check didn’t say you’d been married.”

“It wouldn’t, we were married in Mexico. I met Enrique at a bar when I was twenty-six. He was handsome, rich, and powerful. I’d been working in gas stations and retail ever since I could remember, so he was looking pretty good to me. My mama said he was a good catch and my ticket out of the lower class. So, when he started coming around a lot, buying me stuff, and spoiling me, I thought she was right. He took me on a vacation to Mexico. He told me we were going so I could meet his family because that’s where he was from. When we got there, he changed. He wasn’t sweet and attentive in front of his family. He acted like I was his slave, and he treated me like one, too. His Uncle Julio married us one afternoon when he told me we were going out to lunch. He never even asked, just said we’re getting married today. There wasn’t much I could do. I was in a foreign country where I didn’t speak the language, and he was acting like a different person. I was scared, so I did as I was told, and that was the beginning of a miserable two-year-long marriage.”

As I speak, I watch his face harden, and the frown lines between his eyebrows furrow deeper and deeper. I was right, I shouldn’t be telling him this.

“You know, this is a bad idea. I know you think you’re helping, but, Xander, I…”

“Continue,” he calmly says.

“But…”

“Continue.”

I take a deep breath and blow it out, standing up to walk off some of my nervous energy. I stop to take a big drink of my scotch first and pace to the other side of the office to the window. I can feel his eyes burning into my back. I don’t want to look at him when I tell him the rest.

“When we came back to the States, we came to California. He didn’t tell me where we were going. I figured it out when we landed. He would go for days without talking to me, and then, just like that, he wouldn’t shut up. He asked me my opinion on everything, spoiled me, took me to parties, and showed me off like a shiny new toy. And then he would beat me senseless for not putting enough butter on his toast. I lived in a constant state of heightened awareness. I walked on eggshells twenty-four-seven wondering and worrying what kind of mood he was going to be in next. He was jealous one day and wanting to share me with his friends in bed the next. I lived in a mansion, but it felt like a prison. He controlled my every move, he shamed me, degraded me, tore down my self-esteem until I acted like a stray dog on the street. And then one day he found a new plaything. Alessandria was just like me… poor, impressionable, young, and naïve. I told her to run, stay away from Enrique, but he had his claws into her already. I could see the stars in her eyes. When she wouldn’t listen, I took advantage of the situation and asked him for a divorce never letting myself believe that he might give it to me, but he did.” I turn to face him now that the humiliating part is over.

“So you got a divorce, and what, he’s still bothering you?”

“We got divorced, yes. Then I found out I was pregnant. Just when I thought the nightmare was over, I learned a part of him was growing inside of me. I could have had an abortion, but I was desperate for something or someone to love after being so alone for two years, so I decided to keep it. When I was seven months pregnant, Enrique found out through the grapevine. He was furious that I hadn’t told him. He had it in his head that I was cheating on him while we were married, and that’s why I asked for a divorce. He came to my apartment and pushed me down the stairs. I lost the baby.” My voice cracks, and a tear slides down my cheek, but Xander doesn’t move a muscle.

The truth sucks, but he’s the one who insisted on it.

“He pushed you on purpose?” he says quietly trying to sort through my mess in his head.

“Yes.”

“And, he’s still bothering you?”

“Yes. He’s the one who caused the car accident two weeks ago. He came to Macy’s when I was getting off work and stopped me in the parking lot. He was talking about getting back together and having another baby. I told him there was no way in hell, and he attacked me, but I was able to get into my car and drive away. He followed, and well, you know the rest. This isn’t the first time. He pops up every couple of months trying to get back together with me. Usually, I can change my phone number and hide out for a while until his mood has changed, but it’s been happening more and more frequently until the accident.”

“It wasn’t a hit and run?”

“No, it was him. He followed me for a while, and I thought I’d lost him. I came to a four-way stop, stopped, and when I took off, he came out of nowhere from the other direction and slammed into me. I saw his car and the look on his face when he accelerated, but I was knocked out when he hit me.”

“Why didn’t you tell the police? Why on earth would you say it was a hit and run?”

“He’s a very bad man, Xander. He’s involved in some big drug cartel in Mexico. I thought he would leave me alone when we got divorced, or I would have moved back home to Minnesota. It’s been over a year, and he’s getting worse. I don’t know what to do.” I walk to his office chair and sit down propping my elbows on my knees and dropping my face into my hands to cry.

I never cry about this shit. It’s my fault I got involved with that psychopath, and I have to deal with the consequences. I’ve never told the whole story to anyone, not even Twyla, until tonight. It’s overwhelming. I can’t hold back the emotions of the past few years any longer.

I hear Xander get up and cross the room. He scoops me up out of the chair and cradles me against his chest as he carries me to his bedroom. I want to say no, no, no, we can’t do this, that sex is only going to make matters worse, but his arms are comforting, strong, and most of all, safe.

I haven’t felt safe for years.

He sits me on the edge of his bed and kneels in front of me. Without a word, he removes my shoes and places them next to the night table. I watch through an ocean of tears as he takes my face in his hands and whispers, “Sweet, sweet girl, you’ve been through enough. I’m here now, and I’m going to take care of you.” His thumbs come up, and he sweeps away the tears flowing down my cheeks. “Come on, lie down,” he says patting the pillow. I lay my head on it pulling my knees up into the fetal position, and he hands me a wad of tissue before he pulls the comforter up over my shoulders and kisses me on the cheek.

“We can finish talking tomorrow. I want you to sleep now and know that the security system is on, and he can’t get to you here, you’re safe.”

“Where are you going?” I say grabbing his hand when he stands to leave.

“Nowhere. I’m going to change, and I’m coming to bed. I won’t leave you.” When he says I won’t leave you, I know in my bones that he won’t ever leave me.

Sometimes you just need to be tucked in and kissed goodnight.