“NO MATTER WHERE YOU GO or who you’re with, you’ll always be mine.” His voice echoes in the darkness. “Mine, Ellie.” I hurl myself up out of a dead sleep, panting. My hair is sticking to my forehead from sweat, and my tank top is clinging to my chest. I catch my breath and remind myself it was only a dream.
Only a dream. Only a dream.
The tropical nighttime breeze flutters through the half-open window and cools my burning skin. I fall back down onto my pillow and try to banish the vision of majestic blue eyes haunting my mind. Not only his eyes—his voice, his scent, his words. “I’d much rather shower you with pleasure than torture you with pain . . . but I’ll do what I have to do to make you submit.”
It’s been a year since I left him—the man who abducted me, trained me, used me, owned me, deceived me. A whole year since I found out I was free.
Immediately after I left Mansion, I was held in a safe house for three days. Jett stayed with me the whole time. He laid with me while I slept, held my hand while I was debriefed by a very shady man in a black suit threatening me with jail time if I divulged one word about the classified operation, and held me when I fell to pieces night after night. He was my sanity. Which is crazy, when you think about it. He was one-half of the duo who held me captive, forced me to submit, and conformed me into a slave. A sex slave. But no matter how low I felt, it was Jett who lifted me up. When the curtain fell, he was the only one I could trust. Warped as it may have been.
I look up at my apartment building. It looks exactly the same. Red brick and concrete stairs.
“Last stop on the crazy train,” Jett says grinning.
I feel the anxiety stampede through me as I gaze out the tinted window of the truck. Do I look different? I definitely feel different. I wonder if everyone will be able to see the scars of my experiences sliced all over my skin. I guess I’m about to find out.
I barely allowed myself to miss anyone while I was gone, and all that suppressed emotion is threatening to break through the surface of my facade. I’m finally home. My eyes burn as I fight back tears.
“Remember what we talked about. Only recount very vague details. You were kidnapped, drugged, and you don’t remember much of your time in captivity.”
I frown and nod.
“It’s important you keep the accounts of what happened to yourself.”
I nod some more. I understand. I really do.
“Am I ever going to see you again?” I ask Jett with a shaky voice.
“Maybe. It’s up to you.”
“If I forgive Kayne?” I narrow my eyes.
He shrugs. “We’re a package deal.”
The tears I’m trying to contain fall. I sadly realize that I’m never going to see Jett again. It feels like my soul has been ripped from my body, and now I’m losing my best friend in the process.
“No tears, sweet thing.” He wipes my cheek with his thumb. “Time to be the strong girl I know you are. This is your decision.”
And I stand by it.
“Where are you going now that this is all over?”
“I have some unfinished business of my own to take care of.” He fiddles with the cuff of his sleeve. “But don’t miss me too much; I might not be as far as you think.” He winks.
“What does that mean?”
“It means just because I’m leaving now it doesn’t mean I’ll be gone forever.”
I look at him like the crazy man he is. I’m too tired for riddles.
“Go on.” he nudges me. “Time to go home.”
I hug him one last time and step out of the car.
Time to go home.
After my very teary return, I spent months trying to acclimate back into some semblance of a ‘normal’ life. I quit Expo (despite Mark’s protests), started seeing a psychiatrist, and spent most of the summer down the shore—away from the city and the reminders of the past. Reminders of him.
I meant it when I said I never wanted to see him again, and when I finally felt like I was moving on, a package arrived on August twenty-eighth, my twenty-third birthday. It was a large, rectangular, white box with a plain white card and a simple white bow. When I opened the card, I nearly fell apart. One word was inscribed on the inside:
I ripped open the box with overflowing tears to find two dozen miniature red velvet cupcakes. I cried even harder. I didn’t even know why. I vowed to put Kayne Roberts behind me, and up until that moment, I thought I had. But one look at that word and a whole world of emotion let loose. I tore up the card and chucked the cupcakes in the dumpster on the side of my building. I just couldn’t. I was leaving for school, and that’s where my focus had to stay. I would never again let someone take my hopes and dreams and future away. Never. I had no idea who Kayne was. He deceived me from the very moment I met him. How do you care about someone you don’t know at all? On a basic human level, maybe. But to love someone, expose yourself to them, and trust them with your entire heart?
Hell no.
I left for Hawaii the very next day.
If I had ever wished to see paradise, I had finally arrived. Oahu is beyond beautiful—the landscape, the flowers, the ocean. Being five thousand miles away from New York, I could breathe. It was a new beginning, and I took complete advantage. I learned to surf on the beaches of Waikiki, hiked to the top of Diamond Head, and snorkeled with tropical fish and sea turtles in Hanauma Bay.
The dark clouds had finally separated. Or so I thought.
I didn’t even realize it was happening. It was like a tiny tear in your favorite shirt that you never even notice until there is a gaping hole in the seam. I tried to ignore it, tried to keep myself busy with classes and extracurricular activities, but it was always there. The heaviness in my chest weighing me down. Thoughts of him fogging my mind. And once I acknowledged the feelings sprouting inside me, they grew rapidly, like radioactive flowers.
You can’t love him, I kept telling myself. He kidnapped you, held you captive, forced you to wear a collar and be his slave. And he did it all under false pretenses. None of it was real. I pounded that mantra into my head. None of it was real. “I would kill for you.”
Was it?
That brings me to present day.
My freshman year of college is almost over. I’m living the life I thought I wanted and second-guessing myself every day.
I close my eyes and try not to think, try to ignore the heat my body is missing, and the way a certain pair of hands used to touch me, hold me, subdue me until I was coming undone at his command. Nights like these are the worst because nothing can satisfy the need. Trust me, I’ve tried relentlessly to fulfill it—but my desire only wants one thing. Or only one person, I should say. My body is still a lecherous traitor even after all this time. I slip my hands into my underwear and massage the ungodly ache.
“Every morsel of food you eat, every breath of air you take is because of me. Because I allow it . . . You live because of me. You live for me. Remember that when you fall asleep with my come inside you.”
IT’S A BEAUTIFUL, CLEAR MORNING.
I have a cup of Starbucks in my hand and the roof off my Jeep. I bought it the first week I was here. An obnoxious yellow Wrangler I am absolutely in love with. With the money I saved over the years, some grants, and a very large severance package from Mark, my finances are sitting pretty for the foreseeable future. I don’t need much, a one-bedroom apartment, my car, and some groceries keep me living modestly, but happy. The fact that all those things are located in the middle of paradise doesn’t hurt, either.
I take a seat in my English class, prepared to ace my last final.
“Morning, good looking.” Michael slips into the seat next to me.
“Morning yourself,” I reply as I take a sip of my blonde roast.
“Ready to crush this test?” he asks with a cute grin and huge dimples. He’s adorable. I met Michael in this very seat at the beginning of the semester. He’s in the same boat I am; he started college late, and is immersed in a sea of barely legal adults. Being a twenty-three-year-old freshman can have its downfalls. Like cradle robbing.
Michael wasn’t shy; he sat right next to me, struck up a conversation, and we haven’t stopped talking since. We started hanging out after class, then on the weekends, and what started out as an innocent friendship snowballed into something more. Something fun and physical and completely carefree. At least for me. I know Michael wants more, but there’s just no way I’m ready for that. I’m perfectly happy getting drunk, having sex, and leaving it at that.
“Up for a little surfing after this?” Michael asks with his big brown eyes as the tests are handed out.
I shrug. “The rest of the day looks pretty wide open.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He grins, picks up his pen, and starts writing.
I WATCH FROM THE BEACH as Michael rides in his last wave of the day. He’s quite the hottie—all tan skin, dark hair, and flat stomach. Michael was a military brat and lived all over the world, but he says Hawaii is home. When he was seventeen, his mother relocated to California, but Michael refused to leave. So, family friends took him in until he was able to support himself on his own. We’re kindreds like that. He put off school until he had enough money stashed away to work part time and still live comfortably. By the looks of him, his plan is working out just fine.
He runs up the beach with his surfboard under his arm and his body dotted with water droplets. As I watch him approach, I can’t stop myself from imagining another face grinning at me from the shoreline—one with crystal-blue eyes, a seductive mouth, and tattoos on his skin. A face that haunts me when I sleep, and is impossible to find when I’m awake.
“Ellie? El? Where’d you go?” Michael asks pulling me out of my daydream. I smile, hiding the embarrassment of being caught.
“Nowhere, I’m right here.”
“Sure about that, gorgeous? You looked like you were visiting la-la land.”
“The ocean must have put me in a trance.”
“The ocean, huh?” he pokes fun.
I smack his stomach. “Okay, maybe it was a totally hot surfer. But he’s gone now.” I pout.
“You think you’re funny?” Michael raises his eyebrows devilishly.
“I think I’m hilarious.” I start to giggle nervously.
“Let’s see how funny you are after I throw you in.” He lunges at me.
“Michael!” I screech as he hauls me over his shoulder and jogs toward the water’s edge.
He then tosses me in and wrestles with me under the water. I come up for air, gasping and laughing all at the same time.
“You’re a jerk.” I splash him.
“And you’re hilarious, remember?”
“Yes. And now very wet.” I wade back to the shore.
“Is there a better way to be?” he asks salaciously.
I roll my eyes and splash him again. Men.
Once dry, Michael picks up both boards. “I’m going to the North Shore to surf tomorrow,” he tells me as we walk to our cars. “Want to come? There’s supposed to be a kickass party on the beach, too.”
“That sounds like fun,” I tell him as he slides my surfboard into the backseat of my Jeep.
“Perfect. I’ll pick you up around noon. I have to work in the morning.”
“I’ll be ready.” I smile. I am nowhere near skilled enough to surf North Shore waves, but I like hanging out on the beach and watching everyone else. Especially Michael.
“You know, I can come over later tonight if you want.” He steps closer to me and puts his hands on my hips, smelling of salt and sand. “That way I don’t have to wait a whole twenty-four hours to see you again.”
“Is that such a torturous amount of time?” I flirt.
“For me, yes. You, I wonder sometimes.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I question him.
Michael doesn’t answer; instead, he leans in and presses his lips firmly against mine. I kiss him back, but the fire doesn’t burn as brightly on my end. I’m trying, I really am, but the past and all these crazy feelings I have are holding me back.
Michael sighs when I pull away, pressing his forehead against mine. “One day, whatever demons are inside of you are going to have to come out. And when they do, I’ll be right next to you.”
I stare into Michael’s big brown eyes. They’re so sweet and kind. I almost feel guilty for keeping all my secrets from him. But what would he think if he found out about my past? That I was owned? Or that there’s an hysteria of conflicting desires inside me that I can’t make heads or tails of? I don’t respond because what can I possibly say? I can’t make him any promises or give him any guarantees.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I kiss him chastely on the lips.
“I’m counting on it.” He spanks me playfully on the ass, and I’m flooded with a million emotions, and way too many memories to even count. My breathing speeds up and my head feels light as I climb into my Jeep. “You’ve been such a good kitten; it spared you from ten.” I try to hide everything I’m feeling as I turn on the car, unsure if Michael senses anything is off. I say one last goodbye, and then speed away with the ghost of Kayne’s hands stinging my ass.
I drive around until it’s dark, just letting my idle thoughts wonder. “You are so sexy. I can’t tear my hands or my lips or my eyes off of you. You’re my most prized possession. I meant it when I said I would kill for you, Ellie. I’d do anything for you.”
I pull into my little apartment complex a few hours later, park, and then just sit in the car under the cover of night. I clutch the steering wheel and rest my forehead on my hands. How would I even begin to look for him? Someone who doesn’t exist, at least on paper. Maybe I should put an ad on Craigslist. Desperately seeking slave owner.
It’s official. I’ve completely lost my mind.
I think what I really need is a big glass of wine, a bath, and a sleeping pill. Maybe a dozen of them.
As I get out and walk to the front door of my duplex, I resolve to put Kayne Roberts behind me. Right now, this second. My life is good, I’m living out my dreams, and I have an amazingly sweet guy who is trying his damnedest to be everything I need. What more can one person ask for? “No matter where you go or who you’re with. You’ll always be mine.”
I walk up the steps to the second floor landing like I’m dragging rocks. I’ve been bugging the super for weeks to fix the porch light. I hate coming home late and not being able to see my front door.
“You know, Ellie,” a male voice says from behind me, and I nearly jump out of my skin. “The first rule of protection is self-awareness. And a young, beautiful girl like yourself, sitting in her open Jeep all alone in the dark, just begs for some sick pervert to pounce.” Jett emerges from the shadows, the small light from his phone illuminating his features. I freeze in place for a split second before I tackle him. “Jett!” It’s an involuntary reaction.
“I missed you, too, sweet thing.” He chuckles, squeezing me hard. I’m overwhelmed with emotion as Jett holds me in his arms. And in Jett fashion, he hugs me for as long as I need.
“Do you make a habit of lurking around dark porches?” I ask shakily, “Or just mine?”
“Depends,” he answers flippantly, releasing me. I can’t see much of his face, but I can make out the shadow of his smile.
“What are you doing here?” I gain my wits while wiping away the stray happy tear from the corner of my eye.
“Do you want me to tell you while we’re standing in the dark, or shall we go inside and talk?”
“Inside.” I quickly unlock the door and flick on the lights with Jett right behind me. My apartment isn’t anything extravagant, it’s nothing like the opulent room Kayne kept me in. My most expensive piece of furniture is a Pottery Barn couch. I figured I was going to be doing a lot of studying in my little living room, so I might as well be comfortable. I haven’t regretted my purchase for one minute.
“Do you want something to drink?” I ask nervously. Why am I suddenly nervous?
Jett watches me with entertained eyes as I fidget around my apartment, opening and closing the refrigerator door like I have OCD.
“I’m good, Ellie, but maybe you should have one?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively. I grab a water from the fridge and sit down on the couch. Jett follows, plopping down beside me. “Hmmm.” He bounces a few times. “Comfy.”
I nearly burst out laughing.
“It’s good to see you smile,” Jett says.
“It feels good to smile,” I tell him. There’s a few seconds’ pause.
“Why are you here, Jett? Not that I’m not happy to see you, it’s just so out of the blue.” I’m not complaining, trust me.
“I’ve come to deliver a message.”
“A message?”
“From Kayne.” He pulls an envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans and hands it to me.
I take it, inspecting it curiously.
“Open it,” he urges.
My hands start to tremble, and my heart starts to pound as I rip it open. You wanted this, I remind myself—repeatedly. I pull out the contents of the envelope, and am now thoroughly confused. “A plane ticket?”
“There’s something else,” Jett informs me. I look inside the envelope again, and pull out the thin piece of paper that was hiding under the ticket. I unfold it to read its contents, and just like before, only one word is scribbled:
I can’t explain what seeing that word does to me. It unleashes so many sparring emotions, it feels like they’re trying to kill me.
“Ellie?” Jett’s voice sounds far away. I look up at him not even realizing I started to cry.
Jett takes my hand. “I know you went through a lot. We all did. But if there is any chance you can forgive him, get on that plane tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I study the ticket. Yup, tomorrow’s date, to “Bora Bora?”
Jett shrugs.
“How is he?” I ask guardedly.
Jett shoots me a sad smile. “Better, now that he stopped drinking and started showering again.”
“Did he really take me leaving that hard?”
“You have no idea, Ellie.” His tone is bleak.
“Why didn’t he come himself?”
“He didn’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable. Although, personally, I think he’s just afraid of your right hook.” Jett winks.
I roll my eyes. “It probably didn’t even hurt.”
“Ellie, you slapped him so hard, I felt it.”
“He deserved it.” I defend my actions.
“I suppose on some level he did. But what he really deserves now is your forgiveness,” Jett implores me. “Not just what he deserves, but what he needs.”
I crush the envelope, ticket, and piece of paper to my chest conflicted. This is what I wanted, so why am I having such a hard time coming to terms?
“I can’t make any promises I’ll be on that plane.” It’s the truth. It’s time to pull the trigger, and I’m hesitating. I’m pretty sure instances like that can get you killed.
Jett just nods. “It’s your choice. A car will be here to pick you up at noon. Think about it, Ellie.” He puts his hand on my knee and then stands up.
“Are you leaving?” I follow his movements worried.
Jett nods. He looks the same—A shock of blond hair, turquoise eyes, and a quiet air of authority.
“But you just got here.”
“I did what I came to do. Now it’s time to go.”
I frown.
“If you make the right decision, you’ll see me again,” he says with one finger under my chin.
I look away. I have a lot of thinking to do, and not a whole lot of time to do it. I stand up and reluctantly walk Jett to the door.
He stops just before he leaves, looking at me with those with penetrating eyes. “This is his last attempt, Ellie. If you don’t show up, he’s disappearing, and this time it will be for good.”
I respond silently with a confused expression. He kisses me on the cheek then vanishes into the darkness.
Disappearing for good?