Epilogue

“Don’t be an idiot,” she said and nudged me with her knee. I let out a defeated sigh.

“After Mexico, I decided to try your old neighborhood.” Livvie looked aghast. I was quick to reassure her no one had been hurt. “I didn’t talk to anyone. I couldn’t take the chance. I waited outside your former apartment building, but I realized pretty quickly your family didn’t live there anymore.” I inched a bit closer to Livvie on the sofa. I didn’t move so much she’d notice—at least not right away. “I must have scouted the bus stop for weeks, just hoping. Which, in retrospect, was pretty dumb. Why would you go back there?

“After your old neighborhood proved fruitless, I remember you talked about your friend Nicole. And before you get all huffy—I didn’t talk to her either. I just stole her laptop.”

“Caleb!” Livvie admonished.

I shrugged unapologetically.

“Are you glad I found you or what? Your whereabouts weren’t just going to fall out of thin air.” I practically dared her to tell me there had been another way. “I found an email that could only have come from you.” I moved a tiny bit closer. I don’t think she realized. “You sounded really sad. You mentioned going to the Eiffel Tower by yourself. Someone stole your wallet. It was months after the incident, but I still worried for you. You said you weren’t over me.”

Livvie looked away from me. She had tears in her eyes and she was working hard to make it seem as though she didn’t. While I didn’t necessarily relish her pain at the memory, it boded well for me. It made me believe there was a chance for us.

She cleared her throat and wiped at her eyes with the back of her finger.

“Ugh! I thought I was past this part. I promise I’m not quite as emotional as I used to be.” She smiled. “I guess you just bring it out of me. I like your hair. How long is it?”

“It’s camouflage. I keep it back because it annoys me when it touches my shoulders.” I didn’t want to talk about my hair. I reached up and collected a tear racing down her cheek. I drank it. I knew it didn’t make sense to her. If anything, she seemed more embarrassed. However, it was my way of taking her pain away. It was a promise. I didn’t go around drinking random tears. I’m not that creepy.

Livvie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Some of the tension from earlier was slinking its way back into our intimate moment.

“Some things never change I guess,” she whispered.

I moved closer, until our knees brushed. My arm rested on the back of the sofa and I was able to touch her hair with my fingers. Warmth spread through me as I watched her eyelids slide shut.

“Everything is in the process of becoming something else. It’s the law of change.” I briefly kissed Livvie’s eyelids before she could open them. “I’m in the process of becoming something else, Livvie. I hope it’s something good, something far removed from the monster you knew.”

“Wow!” Livvie said. Her tears had gotten the better of her and she raced to put distance between us. She wiped hurriedly at her cheeks. “Holy shit, Caleb. How can I keep from being a mess when you say things like that? I don’t even know how to feel.”

I smiled and moved back. I had her where I wanted her, but more than that—I had her where I needed her. In a place where she could admit she could forgive me for the past. In a place where we were possible.

Over the next several hours, I relayed the many airline tickets I had purchased to search for her. The places I had almost caught up and missed her. I told her about Germany and the café. She hadn’t been happy to hear about that one but accepted I wasn’t quite ready to approach her at the time.

She attempted to ask questions about our last days in Mexico. I was honest and told her it was too much for me to discuss so soon. I’d tell her at some point. She didn’t like it, but she used it as leverage to dodge questions about the FBI and what she’d learned about me.

For the most part we tried not to delve too deeply into subjects that were excruciating to either one of us. It was more about discovering how we felt toward one another after so much time had gone by. As our feelings became more obvious, we were able to discuss our present instead of our past. I liked that much better. I liked hearing about Livvie going to school. I listened to her talk about the endless possibilities of her future and it made me feel somewhat better about… well, everything. I would be lying if I told you I was over what happened with Rafiq—far from it. Still, it gave me a modicum of solace to know that if he had lived, Livvie’s future would not be so bright.

Too quickly, the hours had ticked by. The night had gone silent and in a few hours, pre-dawn would be approaching. My thoughts began to turn toward more carnal diversions and talking had begun to lose its appeal.

“It’s late,” she whispered. She had her feet on the sofa, her knees pulled up to her chin. Her dark eyes begged me to come closer. Her legs threatened to push me away.

I felt myself getting hard, my dick throbbing in rhythm with my heartbeat. I was transported to Felipe’s plantation in Madera. I remembered the first night I whipped her. She’d known she was in trouble and she hid under the sink. She was curled up in much the same way, eyes staring up at me, legs trembling ever so slightly. I remembered the thrill of making her surrender.

The memory filled me with mixed emotions. I had been her abuser. I had taken something from her she had been unwilling to give. I felt guilty. Yet, I also had a fondness for the memory. It had been the beginning of my exploration with Livvie. Even cowered beneath the sink, her eyes had met mine. She fought me without words. She fought my possession. It was in those moments I first saw the ghost of the boy I had been. I knew the words behind her stare: You can have my body, but you can’t have me.

I had admired her even as I was resolved to bend her to my will. She had closed her eyes at our first touch, gathering her courage.

“Look at me. I want you to look at me.”

In the quiet hotel room, with Livvie only a short span away, I stared into her unflinching eyes and once again read the message. I wouldn’t be able to take what I wanted this time. This time, I had to earn her surrender.

“I don’t want this night to end,” I said. I wanted to make myself as clear as possible. Whatever she decided to do after that was fine.

“So… what then?” She raised her hand to her mouth and tugged gently at her lip. Her eyes had a mischievous glint.

“Well, the way I see it, you have three options: You can make me very sad by asking me to drive you home. You can take pity on me and spend the night. Or you can admit you want me to f**k you until you beg for mercy.” I leaned back and put my arms around the sofa. I let her see how hard I was for her, how much I wanted to be inside her.

She inhaled sharply. Her cheeks reddened. A quick glance downward revealed her toes, curled tightly.

“You… still have a way with words.” Her voice was breathy, but confident.

“Just laying it out for you.” I winked at her. I felt pretty confident about which of the three options she would choose. However, she has a way of throwing in her own surprises.

“I still have the pepper spray,” she teased.

“Kinky.” We laughed.

I knew she wanted me. It was written all over her face. It was in the way she licked her lips in preparation for being kissed, the way her eyes seemed to go dark. I had a moment of hesitation. I wasn’t sure what role she wanted me to play. On the one hand, it would have given me pleasure to tell her what to do. I liked being in control. I liked knowing she’d obey me of her own free will. On the other, I wasn’t sure how my dominance would be accepted. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her away. I didn’t want to remind her there had been a time she hadn’t had a choice.

“So, what’s it going to be, Pet?”

She raised a brow.

“Pet?” She didn’t seem put off by the moniker, despite the gentle warning in her tone.

“Force of habit,” I whispered unapologetically. Slow and easy it is.

“You have a lot of bad habits, Caleb.”

“But not all my habits are bad, are they?” I let my hand rest on my dick. Her eyes followed my movements. She swallowed.

“No. There’s a few I’m quite fond of.” She met my eyes and held me captive.

“Do tell,” I suggested.

“Give me time, Caleb. I will. But… tonight? I just need you to know I’m not the scared girl you remember.” She brought her knees down and opened her legs. Her dress hid what was beneath, but her message was clear as she placed her hand on her pu**y.

My heart beat erratically, spurred by her seduction. Beneath my own hand, my c**k strained against my zipper.

“I remember you were brave,” I managed to say beyond the lust clogging my throat.

“I remember you liked to watch me touch myself.” She inched her dress up her thighs. Her short, blunt fingernails left faint red trails along her smooth tan skin. “I remember I liked watching you too.” She shifted down and rested her head on the arm of the sofa.

I was beside myself. My mouth was dry—too many open-mouthed breaths. My chest felt bruised by the incessant pounding of my heart. Lower down, my flesh was rigid and surrendering its first clear droplets of seed.