Authors: Arianne Richmonde
Tags: #Romance, #Erotica, #Richmonde, #Arianne
“I don’t know.”
“Are you in love with him?”
“I hate him.”
I turned the sound of the TV down with the remote. “That wasn’t my question. Are you in
love
with him?”
“I got hooked in.”
“How long have you been seeing him for?”
“On and off.”
“So that’s why you asked to borrow my bodyguard a while ago?”
“Yeah.”
“And why you took off traveling across America, in Pearl’s car?”
“I wanted to get away from him.”
“But you came back to him?”
She said quietly, “I couldn’t stop myself.”
“Why?” she didn’t answer. “Why?” I repeated.
“Because.”
“Because?”
“Because I couldn’t keep away from him even though I knew it was all wrong . . . alright? Satisfied now?”
I read between the lines. “There’s more to a relationship than just sex, Elodie.”
“Oh that’s rich, coming from you!”
“What are you talking about?”
“You and Pearl. You’re obsessed with each other. You’re relationship is so physical.”
She’d stabbed me in the gut with her words. “That’s so not true. It started off that way. Partly. But we’re soul mates. It’s a feeling that can’t be explained—can’t be rationalized. Pearl and I were made for each other, and the physical part of it just enhanced that. It’s about trust. Trust made the physical bond more intense. Without trust everything else is temporary.”
Elodie seemed to listen to what I said, mulling my words of wisdom over in her mind. She then told me, “I came here so I’d be safe from Mikhail. I can’t go back to my apartment in the Village.”
“You did the right thing. Stay here. Stay as long as you like—you can even help us look after the twins.”
“He’ll be out there waiting for me. Obsessing about me. He won’t rest until he has me. All of me. He told me so.”
I knew this sort of stuff was an aphrodisiac for many women. My mother had succumbed to those sorts of promises with my father. Abuse dressed up as love and passion when, really, it was all about control. Hell, my mom’s fictional boyfriends were probably full of that kind of talk. I feared that Elodie would be swayed by Prokovich’s
amour
, even if it was more about possession than real love. “Well, you’ll just need protection, plus a strong will to keep away from him.”
“I
mean
it this time. I don’t want him in my life. He’s not a good person.”
“How do you know he’s not a good person?”
I know, but how does she know?
“I’ve heard him make deals on the phone. I know who he is.”
“He doesn’t worry about you being party to all that?”
“No. He likes it. It makes him feel powerful. He wants me to fear him.”
“And
do
you fear him?” I asked.
“Do you know why I decided I didn’t want to see him anymore? Why I couldn’t love him?”
“I can think of a million reasons not to love a man who makes his money selling arms,” I said, taking in her little heart-shaped face and her innocent gaze, which was breaking me up.
“Governments do it,” she said by way of an excuse. “He’s no worse than a lot of politicians.”
“I know, Elodie. We live in a pretty fucked up world. But you deserve better than a man like that. What was it then, that finally made you decide you didn’t love him?”
“He told me he strangled a cat when he was a boy. I felt sick when he said that.” She blew air from her lips and added, “I wish he’d get blown up by one of his own land mines. Or someone would fucking shoot him with one of his AK-47s.”
I fixed my eyes on her wide brown eyes. “Don’t do anything rash. You hear me? Just keep away from him.”
“Hey guys, you all look very serious.” It was Pearl, swishing back from the premiere, in her heels and shimmery gown. Rex bounded over to her but luckily didn’t jump up. “Glad you’re here, Elodie,” Pearl said. “Anyone for a snack? I’m starving.”
“You relax, chérie, I’ll check on the twins and make us some sandwiches or something.”
“I already took a peep. They’re out for the count; Louis has a little grin on his face, and Madeleine’s pouting in her sleep, dreaming about something serious.”
I left Pearl and Elodie together and sneaked into the babes’ room and observed them in their cribs. It was true what Pearl said about their little expressions. We’d been lucky; neither of them were screamers. Sometimes babies come into a world with everything just right. Others have a battle. I was one of the battle fighters. I’d had colic, apparently. Then whooping cough—I had a rough ride. But Louis and Madeleine had two parents madly in love with each other and seemed to be living a stress-free existence. It showed in their faces and in their jolly demeanor.
As I slipped out noiselessly and walked past the living room, I couldn’t help but hear a snippet of Elodie and Pearl’s hushed conversation.
“He became more and more dominant, you know. He made me play games with whips and stuff. Tied me up. Blinded me.”
“Blindfolded you, you mean?” Pearl corrected.
I did that to Pearl, even though all I did was “whip” her with a feather. But still. Shit, maybe I’m just as fucked up as Prokovich.
“Yeah,” Elodie went on. “You know, at first it was . . . well, it was kind of fascinating and I wanted to please him. But it got more and more crazy. Then I left him, and he promised he’d stop, but when we started dating again, he wanted to do the kinky stuff, and I got scared.”
“You mustn’t see him if he scares you, sweetie,” Pearl advised her.
“He told me that we’re meant to be together, that he can’t live without me. That I’m his life, his breath, his moon and stars.”
“Fancy words coming from such a tough man.”
“He’s crazy about me.”
“
Crazy
sounds like a good word to describe him. You’re in love?” Pearl asked.
I moved on to the kitchen. I didn’t want to intrude anymore. I fixed us all some sandwiches and drinks, but as I came back towards the living room with the tray, I heard more. I stopped in my tracks.
“You know, each time I cut myself, it makes me feel better. Like a relief.”
“You need to see someone about this, Elodie. You could wind up bleeding to death.”
“I stopped. I’d stopped for ages.”
“But you started again?” Pearl asked softly.
“Just that one time.”
“Honey, you need to stay here with us. Sort yourself out. See a therapist, you know; we need to find you a professional to talk to.”
I stood there, wanting to come in but I was hesitant about interrupting their heartfelt conversation. If I budged, they’d know I was there. I remained motionless, hoping they’d move onto another topic, and I could make my entrance. Then I missed a bit as they were talking in such quiet voices. Then Pearl asked:
“So you told your mom about the rape?”
“No, never.”
“Why not?”
“Because I was so young—I thought if I didn’t talk about it, it would go away.”
Pearl’s tone was gentle but ominous. “It never goes away, not even if you have amnesia.”
That’s when I came into the room. “Who’s got amnesia?” I said lightheartedly. “Rex? Forgotten he’s already had a load of popcorn and is now after our sandwiches?”
“Thanks, honey,” Pearl said, helping me unload the tray. “I could eat . . . I was about to say ‘a horse’ but I guess with the French eating horses as they have been known to do, that isn’t such a great expression.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I sang. “Very funny. I’ll have you know the other day, in some ‘health food’ takeout restaurant, somewhere near Washington Square, they were serving up kangaroo meat, so it’s not just the French.”
“That’s gross.” Elodie winced.
“We should all be like Leonardo da Vinci,” I said. “All be full-on vegetarians, then we could feel blameless.”
“Apparently lettuces scream when you pull them up,” Elodie told us, but then she shifted her eyes mournfully to the Jim Dine painting on the wall that I’d given Pearl for her engagement gift: the multi-colored heart. Elodie’s look said,
I wish I could find that kind of love.
“I’m going to bed. Let you two love birds be in peace.”
“Don’t you want a sandwich?” I asked.
“No, I’m good. And it’s so late. So Parisian to eat at this hour. Night. See you in the morning.”
“Night, sweetie. We’ll talk some more tomorrow.” Pearl blew her a kiss and sank back into the sofa. She tucked her legs under her and spread out her beautiful chiffon dress.
We delved into the sandwiches. Five minutes later, I couldn’t contain my curiosity any longer. “I know it was a private girls’ talk but I did overhear a bit of your conversation.”
Pearl shook her head. “Eavesdropper.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But I
worry
about my niece; I want to help her. If I’d known what her problems were, perhaps she wouldn’t have fallen into the arms of the wrong man in the first place.”
“She’s young and impressionable. Mikhail Prokovich is handsome, rich, charming. He dates supermodels. And he made a beeline for her. She must have been very flattered; very swept off her feet. It’s not surprising she fell for him.”
I bit into a corner of my cheese sandwich and realized that cheese wasn’t the best choice so late at night. Perhaps we’d be awake for hours. “I heard the word ‘rape,’ I admitted.
“Elodie told me that in
confidence,
Alexandre.”
“I still overheard. What happened? And when?”
Pearl dabbed her lips with a napkin, rested her hands on her mouth as if considering whether she should divulge another person’s secret. I looked at her expectantly. Then she sighed and finally said, “It was her best friend’s older brother. She thought it was her first kiss, but he went further and forced her to have sex with him. She’d had a crush on him for years and was crazy about him, but in an innocent, sweet way. But he took her against her will. Apparently, he was a real brute about it. She was only fourteen. He was much older—nineteen. Worse, he wanted nothing to do with her afterwards, and her best friend then abandoned her, so she felt totally betrayed all round.”
I scrunched up my brow. “Six degrees of separation. But from rape of some kind. It amazes me how many people have been affected directly, or indirectly, by abuse. Join the fucking club. Poor thing. About the same time she started dressing like a Goth and wearing spiky heels.”
“Exactly. Her defense mechanism.”
“I also heard the word ‘cut,’ ” I said.
Pearl grimaced. “Unfortunately, she’s a cutter.”
“You sound like you’re familiar with that term.”
“My brother, John . . . you know, he also cut himself. Sadly, it’s quite common.”
I screwed up my face, imagining a slicing razor blade. “Ouch.”
“Elodie’s thing is words. I noticed a scar on her stomach a few weeks ago, and tonight I asked her about it. It seemed the right moment as she was confiding in me.”
“What do you mean,
her thing is words?”
“She carves words into her flesh. She cut the word JAMAIS into her hip.”
“The word ‘never.’ Never what?”
“She said it made her feel better. And in control.”
I raked my hands through my hair. “Jesus. Poor girl. She needs to see a shrink or a therapist.”
“She says she
is
already seeing someone.”
I let out a lungful of air that I didn’t realize I’d been holding in. “Is this what we’re in for, for the next twenty years? Fucked-up kids who carve themselves and end up playing bondage games with ruthless arms dealers? Maybe becoming parents was a bad idea, Pearl.”
“Oh, so I guess you heard that part of our talk too?” Pearl raised her brows. “You caught that part of our
private
conversation? About the kinky stuff?”
“I told you when we met, I think girls Elodie’s age are too young to get wrapped up in sexual games like that. Yes, I heard your conversation. I have ears like Rex—sorry but I can’t help it.
La Legion
made me that way. I hear everything. See everything, whether I like it or not.”
“You’re right about her being impressionable—she said she was playing along to please him, but he got out of control. And that she became scared of him.”
“He better stay the fuck away from her.”
“And what if she doesn’t want him to? She’s an adult; we can’t control her life. She has to choose for herself, Alexandre.”
“I’ll talk to her again tomorrow,” I said.
B
UT I DIDN’T get a chance to talk to Elodie the following day, because she disappeared before I’d even gotten out of bed. She left her phone behind, so I couldn’t call her. I stood in the spare room—Elodie’s clothing and makeup scattered all over the floor. I had no idea where she had gone. Out for breakfast? Would she be back any moment? I was contemplating contacting Sophie, but my sister got there first. I answered my cell.
“What the fuck,” Sophie began, her voice a pack of ice.
I knew what she was referring to. I couldn’t resist an,
I told you so.
“Well, if you hadn’t been so gung-ho about having meetings with that shifty bastard in the first place—”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s all my fault. And now Elodie hates me because of Alessandra.”
“You should have talked to her a long time ago about all that. What did you expect? Elodie’s an adult now, she had a right to know. You betrayed her by not trusting her and keeping her in the dark. So yes, you’ve got a lot of work ahead of you to repair the damage.”
Sophie groaned into the receiver. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, dear brother.”
“Sophie, you need to come out of the closet. It’s not fair on anybody, least of all Elodie. Not to mention your poor longsuffering husband.”
“ ‘Poor, longsuffering husband’ has been having affairs for years. Neither of us asks the other any questions; we lead separate lives.”
“Fine, but Elodie shouldn’t be piggy in the middle.”
“Where is she? She won’t answer her phone, and I want to talk to her. She told me last night she’d be staying with you. I was thinking of coming over but thought I should call first.”
“She’s not here. She’s upset. Upset with you, upset with having gotten involved with Prokovich, upset with shit that went down in her past.”