She thinks I’m still sleeping when she slips out of the bed. I keep my eyes closed and let her go. Let her slide out from beneath my arm. At the memory of last night, of her face when I reached her barrier, when I broke through, the tearing—I’ll never forget the look of it, the feel of it. The gush of warm virgin blood. The squeeze of her tight little cunt. It makes my dick hard now.

I don’t know if I intended to fuck her all along. Although I was just messing with her until last night. Until she woke me up—finally, and thank goodness for her—from that nightmare. But I don’t want to think about that part right now.

The shower switches on and I throw the covers back and get out of the bed. There’s a slight smear of blood on me and I like it there. Like knowing what I took from her. What she gave me. Her virginity belongs to me now and no matter what, no one can take that away.

I walk into the bathroom and hear her gasp when she sees me from behind the glass barrier of the shower.

“Morning.” I walk to the toilet, lift the lid and piss.

She’s watching me, I can tell. I imagine her little virgin eyes are in shock, but there’s something dirty about Eve. She doesn’t want to admit it, but she likes the dark. And I plan on doing all kinds of dirty to that sweet, innocent, and very willing body of hers.

I flush the toilet and face her. Steam obstructs my view, but not so much so that I can’t make her out. I haven’t actually seen her tits yet. I’ve always been more of an ass man, but still. I pull the shower door open and step inside.

“What are you doing?”

I like this hotel. Enough room for four in this shower.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Even though there’s a second showerhead, I decide to share hers. Get in her space.

She backs up. I like this cat and mouse game we’re playing so I get closer, back her into the corner. My face is inches from hers and her golden brown eyes have gone huge. “Hand me the soap,” I say. I don’t hide the fact that my gaze is moving along her body, down to her tiny tits with those big, hard nipples. Hard even in the heat of the shower. My dick’s hard too.

“Zach, this…we—”

I push the wet hair off her face, then lift her chin up. “We what?”

It takes her a minute to reply. “We can’t…what happened last night, it can’t…”

“What happened last night?”

Nothing. She’s blushing again and I know she hates being made to say it. She’s so fucking easy to read.

“We fucked,” I say, helping her out. “I fucked your virgin pussy and you came on my dick.”

She’s staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“And,” I let go of her chin and lean in close, lips to her ear. “We determined you like it rough.”

“We did not!”

I laugh and take the bar of soap from behind her, give her some space as I lather up my hands.

“Let me get a look at you.”

“No. Get out.” But she’s trying to get past me to the door to get out herself.

I block her way. “Eve, you have to know last night wasn’t a one-off.”

She’s staring up at me now and I like the physical differences between us. She’s soft and small, and I’m the opposite. I can make her do whatever I want and I know it makes me a dick, but I like it.

“What do you mean?” she asks, but she’s not stupid.

I take a step forward and she takes one back. Water is splashing off of us. It’s kind of irritating, but I have plans for our morning shower so I deal with it.

“What do I mean?” I ask, and I can’t help smiling a little when I see her eyes bounce from my dick to my face and back.

I set the bar of soap down on the little bench against the wall and decide to make very clear what I mean. So I grip her pussy with my soapy hand, curling my fingers into her, rubbing a little.

She stops breathing after her initial gasp of shock.

“I mean I want more of this. More of your pussy.” I’m circling her clit with my thumb, watching her eyes dilate. I reach back with my other hand and slide it between her ass cheeks to find her other hole. She makes a sound and her hands are flat against my chest, pushing. But not really. “I want this too. I bet your little ass is tight.”

I think she’s going white but am not sure with the steam, and I’m trying hard not to laugh outright at her expressions as I rub her clit and her asshole and she tries to pretend she doesn’t like it.

“And this,” I say, kissing her mouth. It’s open, but she isn’t kissing me back. It doesn’t matter though, she’s not fighting me and her little tongue tastes good when I suck it.

Her knees buckle and I press her up to the wall to hold her upright between myself and it.

“Virgin here too?” I ask, pressing against her asshole. I know she is. If she’s never had vaginal sex, no way she’s had anal. But I can tell from the look in her eyes she’ll be open to it, and that thought makes it imperative I get inside her before I blow right here, right now.

I cup both her ass cheeks and lift her up, leaning down a little myself to rub my cock against her slick pussy. I slide inside her and she lets out a long moan and closes her eyes.

“I’m clean and I know you are, but are you protected?”

I’m rubbing her asshole again and watching her face, watching her bite her lip, her hands gripping my shoulders rather than shoving at my chest.

“Focus, Eve,” I say, but it takes me pressing the tip of one finger into her tight little hole to get her attention.

She tightens up immediately, and her nails are digging into my shoulders.

“Relax. I won’t fuck your ass today.”

“Let me go.”

“Let you go where?”

“It hurts.”

“Don’t tense up and it’ll feel good.”

“Zach, I don’t think we should—”

I pull my finger out of her ass, and, still keeping her impaled on my dick, cup her chin and force her to look at me.

“Not only should we, but we are. You’re mine, Eve. You belong to me. That night at the auction, I was buying you for this. I wanted to fuck you then too, but there’s a difference between then and now. Then, I was good. Now, I’m not. I want what I want and you can’t tell me you don’t want it too.”

I bring my thumb to her clit and circle it.

“What did you see last night?” she asks quietly. “The nightmare.”

I move inside her, she’s not pushing me away, but I’m not expecting that question. Not right now.

“You want to talk about that now?”

She nods.

I reach to switch off the water but I’ve still got her trapped between the wall and me, still speared on my dick.

“I saw you up there,” I say, pulling out and thrusting hard once.

She lets out a grunt with the force of it, and I hope for her sake, she’s prepared for what’s coming.

“On that stage. Almost naked.”

I thrust again.

“I saw your fear.”

Is it sick I’m still hard? Getting harder.

“Some part of me, it wanted the auction. Wanted to take you home. Strip you myself. Bed you.” I slide her off my dick and put her down. She’s confused, disappointed. I give her a grin and turn her around, put her arms up, hands flat on the wall. I look down at her sweet little ass, grip it with both hands, draw her backward, splay her open.

She’s being a good girl, keeping her hands where I put them. I’m looking at her, her tiny asshole, her gaping pink pussy. I slide back inside slowly, taking my time, sucking in air as I do. I keep her spread and fuck her, watching my cock slide in and out of her, watch her little pussy stretch to take me. She’s meeting my thrusts now.

“That’s good,” I say moving deeper. I let go of her ass and slide one hand around to her clit.

“What else?” she asks, breathless.

I lean against her, bringing my other hand to her breast, her nipple. I pinch it and her body tightens, making me groan as her cunt squeezes my cock.

“I wanted this. This pussy.” I slap her hip. “This ass.” The sound of fucking, flesh on flesh, her wet cunt taking me, fills the room.

“You saved my life.”

I pinch her clit hard and she lets out a moan.

“I don’t want to talk about this, not now. I just want to fuck you, Eve.”

She nods, thrusting her hips back. I pull her to me, one arm like a metal bar across her middle, the other working her clit. I kiss the side of her face, half her mouth.

“You can’t come inside me.”

Fuck. I should be using a condom. I will. Next time. If she weren’t a virgin, I’d come inside her ass, but can’t do that now. I’d hurt her, she’s so tight. And I like her warm, slippery cunt right now.

I groan.

“Zach.” Her breathing is heavy. She’s close, I can feel it. And so am I.

“Come. And when you’re finished, you’re going to suck me off.” I move the arm that’s around her middle to grip a handful of hair and fuck her harder, thrusting deep. I twist her head around so I can watch her. I like it, watching her come. She’s so vulnerable in that moment, it drives me mad.

“Come, Eve, so I can shoot down your throat. Watch you swallow my cum.”

It takes one more thrust before I feel her pulsing around me. Her eyes squeeze shut and it takes all I have not to let her tight cunt milk me dry, but I hold back, and when she’s finished, I turn her to face me and push her to her knees.

“Open,” I order, my dick bouncing at her face, still glistening with her cum.

Eve looks up at me and opens to take me in and—fuck me—she’s sucking hard, and as much as I want to enjoy this, her on her knees, her eyes wet from taking me deep, it only takes a few thrusts and once I hit the back of her throat, I come. Fuck. I come. She’s gagging but I hold her steady, watching her eyes, her panic and it makes me come that much harder, emptying down her throat, pulling out slowly once I’m finished, watching her struggle to swallow it all.

I keep her on her knees for a few minutes, my hand in her hair forcing her to look up at me as she wipes her mouth.

“Admit it,” I say, slowly drawing her to stand. “You like it dirty.”

She doesn’t have time to answer as I cover her mouth with mine and kiss her, and reaching behind her, switch the shower on.

* * *

I’m sitting in the hotel room waiting for Eve to get ready. After what just happened, she still took her things into the bathroom to get dressed. I’m scrolling through my phone, not paying attention to it really. My mind is on her.

I don’t know what it is with this girl. I’m obsessed or something. When I came looking for her, I hated her. Or I thought I did. But the thing that happened that night two years ago, it wasn’t her fault. It was mine. I know that. I’ve always known that. Even if she betrayed me, no matter her reasons, I made the call that got my men killed. That part belongs to me, and only to me.

She wanted to know what my nightmare was, but I’m trying to make sense of it myself. Because what I saw, it doesn’t make sense.

The bathroom door opens and I look up. Why am I stunned when I see her? She doesn’t look any different. I’ve just seen her naked. Seen all there is to see of her. Yet, her standing there in a knee-length skirt and a tank top, wearing no makeup apart from lip gloss, and her wet hair pulled into a long ponytail fucking stuns me.

I don’t know if she feels it or not, but she keeps her eyes level with mine. I know she’s struggling to do it. She’s so skittish. But I won’t make it easy on her. I’m all for owning who you are. She needs to take an honest look at herself and take responsibility. She could have said no anytime, both last night and today, but she didn’t. And I want her to own that.

She clears her throat and takes a step into the bedroom, dropping some things into her suitcase and slipping on her sandals. They have a two-inch heel but when I stand up, I still tower over her.

“You’ll need different shoes. Walking shoes.”

She doesn’t ask me where we’re going. I have a feeling she knows, but doesn’t want to admit it just yet. She slips out of her sandals and puts on a pair of sneakers.

“Tell me the rest,” she says. Her voice is strange, like her mind was somewhere else.

I take the keys of the car I rented last night and those of the hotel and shove them into the pocket of my jeans. Before opening the door, I grab my duffel bag.

“Are we checking out?” she asks, looking confused.

“No. We’ll be back.”

“Why do you have your things then?”

“I need them.”

She studies me, but I point to the door. “We have a lot to do.”

“What’s in there that’s so valuable?”

Smart girl. Thing is, she’d almost seen them that first day. I’d planned on showing them to her. Making her look at them. It was part of my punishment for her.

But then I’d changed my mind.

“Nothing.”

She studies me a moment longer, then decides to let it go and walks out the door. I follow close behind and we don’t speak until we’re in the car and I’m driving out of the city.

“Where are we going?”

I don’t answer. I’m not sure she wants to know, and I haven’t been back there since that night.

“Zach?”

“Baskinta.”

I feel her tense up beside me, but pretend I don’t. Neither one of us wants this, but we both need it.

“I just need to make one stop.” I pull into the parking lot of a drugstore. “Stay in the car.” I want condoms. I realize how ridiculous it is my brain has room for that, but I know myself. I know what I need. And she’s it.

She doesn’t argue and I’m in and out in a few minutes with some bottles of water, snacks, and a package of condoms. We’re soon on our way to Baskinta.

“Tell me the rest of the nightmare,” she says.

“It was that night again. That’s all.”

“That’s not all. You were saying something. Trying to grab something. Or someone.”

Someone. But it couldn’t be. I’ve been getting bits and pieces of that night back for two years now. I remembered everything before the blast, but afterward, it’s a blur. This nightmare had been the most vivid yet. But what it had to tell, it made me doubt everything because it couldn’t be.

“I spent five months in a coma,” I say, not ready to talk about that dream just yet. Still needing time to process it myself. It’s easier to talk about what happened after that night.

“What?”

“After that night. I should have died, but I didn’t. I was in bad shape though. A local doctor and his son found me. Took me to their home and kept me hidden there.”

“Hidden?”

“He had the sense to know if word got out of a survivor, whoever did the job would be back to finish it. Seeing as how I was flat on my back and unconscious, I’d be as good as dead if that happened.”

“What happened after the five months? There’s a year and seven months between that and now.”

“Recovery. You don’t just get up and walk away from injuries like I sustained. I’m indebted to Dr. Hassan and his family.”

“How did they find you?”

I shake my head. That’s a question I’ve asked too. “They were nearby. They heard the blast.”

She nods, but she’s distracted. She’s looking at the road. “Do we have to go back to that place?”

“I need to see it. I owe it to the dead.”

“What if—”

We hit a pothole and she jumps, catching herself on the handle above the door. I reach out and cover her other hand with mine.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“That man at the hotel in Denver, he tried to kill me. Someone sent him to kill me. Do you think it was Malik?”

“I don’t know but I do find it strange that on the same day, someone sent you your old passport and a one-way ticket home.”

“What if that was Armen? It has to be him. Who else?”

“Don’t get your hopes up, Eve.” She gives me a sideways glance. “Dr. Hassan healed me,” I continue with my story, wanting to distract her. I don’t have answers to her questions just yet, but I do know one thing. I meant it when I said I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.

“He told me what happened to me. Told me that everyone else had died.” I glance at her. “Everyone but you.”

She only studies me, and I’m not sure I expect any sort of answer.

“Once I woke from the coma, my skin was…healed, I guess you could say. I still had pain, but I shouldn’t have. I think that was my mind fucking with me. The doctor and his son helped me through the hardest times. They stayed with me during nightmares. Taught me how to work around the limitations of my injuries. Helped me get strong again. It took me a couple of months, but I realized my own government turned their backs on us. Deserted my men. Me. For all I know, they set us up.”

“You believe that?”

“I don’t know what I believe anymore, Eve. I’m here to find answers though. This ends here. One way or another, this ends.”

“Did it occur to you this could be a suicide mission?”

“Some things are worth dying for.”

She swallows as I turn off the road. I drive as far as I can into the dense forest before parking the car and killing the engine. I’d need an SUV to go farther.

“We walk from here.”

When I reach to unzip the duffel, she takes hold of my arm. “The dead are dead. Nothing you do can bring them back.”

I laugh. “I’m not here to resurrect them. I’m here for revenge. I’m here to take more life.”

All color drains from her face. I pull my arm away, unzip the duffel and take out the Glock I took from the assailant of the other night.

“What are you doing with that?”

“Keeping us safe.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be here.”

“We have to be. We owe it to the dead.”

I get out of the car. Emotions are high. I’m anxious to get to the site, hoping it will jog that final memory into place.

The hike in is about two miles through thick forest. She’s mostly quiet, we both are. I remember this path, know this forest like the back of my hand. Hiking through it was something I did with my men in the cover of night. With Eve, I’m slower. She wants to rest, but I’m not sure it’s physical rest she needs or if she’s trying to put off the inevitable. I give her a few minutes now and again, but we push through.

The names of the dead on my back burn as we near the spot of their massacre. We’re quiet, and the only sounds are those of the forest. I touch Eve’s hand and put a finger to my lips, signaling for silence as we near the clearing of the old building. I stop, look, and more importantly, listen. I’m not expecting company, but no way I’m walking into an ambush.

But we’re alone. There’s no one here.

My heart is calm although I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on end as I close the space between me and the rubble that was once a small stone building. I look at the boundary of walls, step inside it. Eve follows close behind me and although I’ve got one eye on her, my attention is on the space. On the single wall that remains half erect. The rotting wood where the glass for the window was blown out even before that night. Where the first grenade was hurled in. The elevated area where Armen had dragged her onto the stage. Had stripped her naked.

I look back at her. Her eyes are riveted to that spot. She glances at me, but neither of us speak. Instead, I take a turn along the perimeter of the wall. It’s bigger than I remember.

There’s an energy to this place. Unfinished business. Blood unavenged. I’m here to finish it though. I’m here to honor my men.

I walk the room again and again, trying to remember. I can hear the sounds of that night. Men shouting as weapons were sold. Remember thinking it was a good thing most of these men didn’t drink. They were armed and dangerous. Fucking insane, some of them.

I also remember the stench of the night. Too many unwashed bodies in one place.

I glance at Eve who’s walked out of the perimeter and is sitting on a tree stump, her eyes on me. How could he have brought her here? She didn’t belong here. Didn’t belong in the company of those men. I wonder if they wouldn’t have torn her limb from limb in their savage lust if hell hadn’t broken loose. She’d been terrified. Trembling. Desperately trying to cling to the scraps of clothing left on her as her brother tore them off to display her.

When I called out the number doubling the last bid, the room fell silent. It was a silence that didn’t belong there. Didn’t belong to men so violent.

It’s in that memory of silence that I remember him. The piece of the puzzle that’s been fucking with me ever since I woke from the coma. Eyes I recognized. Eyes that once had looked at me with kindness.

Or what I perceived to be kindness.

Eve stands and takes a step toward me. She’s a blur though. I think she calls out my name, but I’m gone. I’m back there. Back in that space. The screaming, then the silence just before the utter and complete hell. That instant when I see him. Commander Maliki Remi. A man who took me under his wing when I first joined the military at eighteen. The man who mentored me through the darkness that was my past: my mother turned to ash; my father dead. One brother imprisoned for his murder. Another going insane within the remains of our family home.

Kids are resilient. Kids block the pain. The past. But thing is, it comes back. Nothing is ever forgotten. What you bury deep within fucking eats at you from the inside out. It’s like a cancer. You can’t unsee things. Can’t unfeel them. It’s stupid to think you can. Stupid to think you can ever run away.

Maliki was the only person I told about it. And I remember feeling proud when he’d told me of the potential he saw in me. He recruited me, made me a part of his team. I was its youngest member. I trusted him. And he trusted me. But I’d been wrong about him. His betrayal had almost cost me my life. And it did cost him his.

Now though…the memory of that night two years ago is flooding back. And it’s knocking my legs out from under me.

It takes everything I have to drag myself out from the past. I blink hard, sounds of the forest slowly waking me. Bringing me into the present.

Commander Maliki Remi isn’t dead. Had they ever said he was, or did I just assume that? It didn’t matter though, what they said. Maliki wasn’t dead at all. He’d been here that night. Standing there, wearing the same scarf to cover his face as the others. And when I went down, I saw them. I saw him stand by and watch as hell broke loose on earth. As screams and gunfire competed, as bodies hit the ground, hit me. But when I blinked, he was gone.

“Zach?”

I turn to find Eve at my side. I rub my face trying to make sense of this, but I can’t. I can’t reconcile this memory. Could it be my mind making up memory? Filling in the empty spaces? Because if it’s true—if Malik is who I think he is—it changes everything.