Seduced in the Dark (3 page)

Caleb.

Go away, go away, go away.

My heart aches. “Please…give me the
picture,” I plead.

Agent Reed steps within my line of sight,
but I only stare at his tie. “If I give you the picture, will you
tell me what happened? Will you answer my questions?”

I suck my bottom lip, running my tongue
across it as I hold it between my teeth. It’s now or never and
never isn’t truly an option. The inevitable is upon me. “Uncuff
me.”

The agent’s eyes flicker over me. I know his
mind must be racing with ideas on how to make me talk. Trust is a
two way street. Show me yours, and I’ll show you mine. He steps
toward me, slowly, and cautiously removes the cuff from my wrist.
“Well?” he says.

“I’ll tell you. Only, you. In exchange,
you’ll give me any pictures you have of him and get me out of
here.” My heart is beating a frantic tattoo in my chest, but I
gather my courage. I’m a survivor. I hold my hand out. “Give me the
picture.”

Agent Reed’s mouth twists with
disappointment at the knowledge he cannot win this point from me.
Reluctantly, he gathers his folder and hands me the photo of Caleb.
“You’ll have to tell me what you know first, and then I can talk to
my superiors and make a deal. I promise I’ll do whatever I can to
protect you, but you have to start talking. You have to tell me why
it looks like you’re more involved in this than any
eighteen-year-old-girl has any right to be.”

No one else exists as I stare at Caleb’s
face. I sob and trace the familiar lines of his face.
I love
you, Caleb.

“I’m gonna go get some coffee,” says Agent
Reed, his voice resigned but still determined, “but when I come
back, I expect answers.” I don’t notice when he leaves, or care.
But I know he’s giving me time to grieve in peace.

He walked out of the room and shut the door.
This time I heard the lock.

For the first time in five days, I am left
alone. I suspect it will be the last time, for a while, Caleb and I
will have to spend together. With trembling lips, I kiss him.

Chapter Two

It seemed to Caleb, the nature of human
beings revolved around one empirical truth: we want what we
cannot
have. For Eve, it was the fruit of the forbidden
tree. For Caleb, it was Livvie.

The night had been a fitful one. Livvie
whimpered and trembled in her sleep and Caleb’s chest seemed to
contract with every sound. He had given her more morphine and after
some time, her body seemed to quiet down though there still seemed
to be frenzied movement behind her eyelids. Nightmares, he assumed.
Without fear of awkwardness or reproach, he felt a compulsion to
touch her. He held her close and comforted them both, but he could
not get Rafiq’s text out of his mind:

How soon would he land in Mexico?

How would he react to Livvie and her broken
condition?

How long did he have with Livvie before she
was taken away from him?

Taken. Away.
Strange, horrible, and
foreign words. He closed his eyes and set his mind to reality.
You’re giving her away.
He opened his eyes.
And the
sooner, the better.

He couldn’t argue with logic. It had kept
him alive for longer than he could remember. He was cold and
efficient. He did not dally with questions of morality. Still, he
wanted
to argue with logic. He wanted to find reason in what
he felt to pacify the hardened man inside his head. But he
couldn’t. The truth was – he wanted her. The truth was also, it was
never meant to be. He pulled Livvie even closer, careful not to
crush her ribs or injured shoulder and buried his nose in her long
hair, trying to smell her scent.

He had told her he wasn’t her Prince
Charming, but what he hadn’t said, was he wished he could be. Once
upon a time, he may have been…normal. Before he had been stolen,
before the beatings and the rapes and the killing – he could have
been something different than what he was. He had never thought
like this, never wondered about the roads taken or not taken. His
life was lived in the present and without the angst of fantasies.
But he fantasized now. He fantasized about being the sort of man
who could give, Livvie, all she ever wanted. The kind of man she
could….

But you’re not that man, are you?

Caleb sighed, knowing the answer
.
The
fantasies of others had never confused him, but his own, left him
dissatisfied with the life he’d accepted and even enjoyed from time
to time. He wanted it to go away, the longing, and the feelings of
regret. He wanted to live for the hunt and kill – it had been the
only thing to make sense to him for so very long. Even in those
moments of darkness, when his drive had flagged and he questioned
the possibility of ever finding Vladek – he had never thought to be
anything other than what he was.

Yet, in just three and a half weeks with
Livvie, most of which, she spent locked in a dark room, it all
seemed to be evaporating. It was stupid, naïve, and dangerous. A
person was incapable of changing fundamentally in such a short
period of time. He wasn’t different. And yet, he
felt
different and not even logic could alter that. If it hadn’t been
for the memories, those awful, fucking memories of Narweh, beating
and raping him. If he hadn’t seen Livvie, covered in blood, bruised
and shuddering in that biker’s arms – he wouldn’t feel like his
entire world was caving in on him.

God! What he’d done to make them pay. It had
been the kind of rage he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He didn’t
regret it either. He’d savored the look on those biker’s faces as
he’d plunged his knife deep into Tiny, and his blood sprayed Caleb,
the walls, everything.

Revenge! That was his purpose.

It felt good to have a purpose. He was
certain he’d feel the rush again. He’d feel it the second Vladek’s
eyes dawned with realization and it would carry through until
Vladek took his last, gasping breath. Caleb shivered. He wanted to
feel the satisfaction of that moment. He wanted to feel it more
than anything. He wanted it more than he wanted the girl.

She’ll hate you. Forever. She’ll want
vengeance.

“I know,” Caleb whispered into the darkness
of the room. Unable to resist the numbness sleep offered, he let
himself be carried into the dark.

***

The boy refused to bathe.

“Caleb, I will not tell you again! You
stink! You stink, horribly. It’s been days and you’re still covered
in blood. Someone will see you and then you will have real trouble
on your hands, boy.”

“I am
Kéleb.
Dog! I’ve ripped my
master to pieces. I’ve tasted blood and I like it! I will not wash
it off. I want to wear it forever, as a badge of honor.”

Rafiq’s dark face became drawn, eyes
narrowed. “Bathe. Now.”

The boy squared his young shoulders and
glowered at his new master. Rafiq was handsome, much, much, more so
than Narweh, the trained whore in him was stirred by this. Rafiq
was also much stronger than Narweh, capable of more damage, but the
boy would not allow himself to be afraid, to cower before a man set
on being his new master. He was a man now, a man! He could make his
own damn decisions about when he’d wash the blood from his
face.

“No!”

Rafiq stood. His eyes were hard and
menacing. The boy swallowed deep and hard, and despite his best
efforts, he could not deny the fear he felt. As Rafiq approached,
the boy quelled his desire to shrink away. Rafiq’s calloused hand
landed firmly on the back of the boy’s neck and squeezed with
enough force to make him wince, but not enough to trigger his fight
or flight instinct.

Rafiq leaned and growled into the boy’s ear,
“Wash yourself now, or I will strip you down and scour your skin
until you would never dream of defying me again.”

Tears stung the boy’s eyes. Not because he
was in pain, but because he was suddenly very afraid and wished
Rafiq was not angry with him. He had no one else. He was still
young, unable to truly fend for himself. His race and appearance
put him at a sharp disadvantage with the locals. Unless he wanted
to be a whore again, Rafiq was all he had.

“I don’t want to.” He pleaded with a
whisper. The hand at the back of his neck loosened a little and the
boy screwed his eyes shut to stave off the threat of tears. He
refused to cry.

“Why?”

“I want to know he’s dead. It was over so
fast, Rafiq. It was over so fast and he…he deserved to suffer! I
wanted him to suffer, Rafiq. All the pain he put me through, all
those things…I wanted him to feel all those things. If I wash away
the blood…” The boy’s eyes pleaded with Rafiq.

“It will be like it never happened?” Rafiq
said, softly.

“Yes.” It was a choked sound.

Rafiq sighed. “No one knows how you feel
more than I do, Caleb. But you
cannot
continue to defy me;
you cannot continue to act like a petulant boy! You are not
Kéleb
any longer. Wash. I promise you, Narweh will still be
dead when you are finished.”

The boy pushed away from the grip on the
back of his neck. “No! No! No! I won’t do it.”

Rafiq’s face went from cautiously warm to
stone cold. “Have it your way,
Kéleb
.” His grip on the boy’s
neck intensified and as he winced with pain and tried to struggle
away from Rafiq, his other hand came down with a meaty thud across
the boy’s face.

Caleb was not new to pain, he could easily
take a harsh slap to his face, but he was stunned nonetheless. He
tried to stagger away from Rafiq, but he was held firmly in the
older man’s grip.

“Bathe!” Rafiq growled with enough force to
vibrate Caleb’s head.

“No!” Caleb cried, tears falling down his
face.

Rafiq bent his body and threw his shoulder
into Caleb’s stomach and hoisted him over his shoulder. Ignoring
the pounding fists on his back, he strode purposefully into the
bathroom and all but tossed the boy inside. He ignored the angry
screaming and invective curses coming from Caleb’s twisted mouth
and turned the knob to release cold water into the tub.

Caleb’s body jolted at the feeling of cold
water soaking his clothes and touching his skin. Unable to resist
and full of anger, he managed to punch Rafiq in the face and
scramble halfway out of the tub. He had only ignited more of
Rafiq’s rage. He felt Rafiq’s hand fisting in his hair, then the
pain on his scalp and in his neck as he was wrenched backward. The
bathtub filled around him as Rafiq pressed him to the bottom of the
tub.

Fear and dread gripped him.

“You will obey me, boy! You will! Or I will
drown you, here and now. You belong to me. Understand?”

Caleb’s mouth and nose filled with water. He
could not make out words clearly and he heard only the angry
shouting of the man holding him prisoner in the water. The feeling
of impending death held him paralyzed with fear. Anything. He would
give anything to never feel this brand of fear again.

Air!

Caleb gasped and heaved as he was pulled up,
his arms scrambling for purchase and finding Rafiq’s shoulders. He
pulled himself toward the warmth and safety of Rafiq’s body. He
fought the arms trying to shrug him off. Caleb thought nothing of
his panicked cries, he only wanted out of the tub. He wanted only
to breathe and to be warm.

Strong arms gripped his shoulders and
shook.

“Calm, Caleb. Calm. Breathe,” Rafiq said.
His tone was soothing despite its intensity. “Be calm, Caleb. I
will not put you in the water again if you’re prepared to listen.
Still!”

Caleb worked hard to do as Rafiq asked. He
held firm to Rafiq’s shoulders, telling himself over and again he
could not be thrown into the water so long as he held on. Caleb
stilled and shuddered, taking his first calm breath. He took
another and another, until at last, only his anger remained.
Slowly, he released Rafiq’s shoulders and slumped into the tub. He
shivered at the cold, his lip trembling, but he wouldn’t ask Rafiq
for hot water.

“I hate you,” Caleb spat, teeth
chattering.

Rafiq’s eyes were calm and collected. With a
smirk, he stood and left the room.

Caleb’s eyes stung with angry tears and
because he was alone, he let them fall. Sure Rafiq would not
return, he turned the tap for the hot water and huddled close to
it, hoping it would warm him all the faster. He dragged his sopping
wet clothes over his head and threw them in a heap on the bathroom
floor with a sense of satisfaction over the mess he was making.

Pure, unfettered, anger rolled through his
body like a physical thing. Pulling his knees to his chin he bit
into the flesh of his knees, scraping them with his teeth. The
tears would not abate! They continued to leak from his eyes. He
felt weak and pitiful. He could not stop Rafiq from doing this to
him. He bit harder, longing for the physical pain to release him
from his suffering.

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to hit things.

He wanted to kill again.

He scraped his fingernails along the flesh
of his arms, simultaneously feeling pain and relief as his skin
broke and small drops of blood appeared on his flesh. He repeated
the process – more pain – more release. In the water, Narweh’s
blood swirled with his. He didn’t know what to feel at the sight of
it. Numbness assailed him. He stared, transfixed as the blood of
the man who tortured him for so long, dissipated into the water
surrounding him.

Who was he now?

He was no longer
Kéleb
, no longer
Narweh’s
Dog
. It was the only name he had ever known, the
only thing he had ever been.

He’s dead. He’s truly dead.

His thoughts returned to Tehran, returned to
the night he murdered his owner, his tormentor, and his caretaker.
Kéleb
had lifted the gun and Narweh’s face had registered
shock, then fear, only for a moment. Then, he had given,
Kéleb,
the look – the one to remind him he was less than
human in Narweh’s eyes – and then
Kéleb
squeezed the
trigger. He was thrown by the force of the powerful weapon.