we were one once book 2: "A Dark Romance" (15 page)

43

“He’s right, Simon.” I feel his hand loosen against my ribcage and for a moment I imagine us in bed like we were only weeks ago. His arms and legs tangled with mine, his lips on my shoulder and his cock pressing into my ass. I close my eyes for a second and smile at how fucked up my mind can be to have this image in the middle of all of this. To have my body respond with pressing against him now in the middle of all of this.

But I take the strength I’ve gained from Grace. The strength to let go of what I can’t control and only give in to it.

“Red? Gigi?” I nod and step out of his arm, but turn to look into his beautiful blue eyes. I’m startled to see a little pain etched in his face and know it’s for Grace. I trace just one finger along his jaw and lean up to gently kiss his lips, barely pressing us together.

He seems startled by it and looks down at me, but I realize the error in taking our eyes off of Miles. I know he’s nowhere close to given up. Yet.

I whirl around and smile at Miles, but all sweetness is gone. I’ll mourn what Grace had for him, what I had for him…maybe later…maybe someday. Of that I’m sure. But not now. Not today. Not while he could still hurt Simon.

“Give
me
the gun, Trust.” I can feel Simon tense behind me; I can see Miles tense in front of me. “You need to leave. I’ll find you again when I can. Or you’ll find me. But you need to leave now.”

Neither man makes a move. I impatiently put my hand out, keeping my eyes leveled on Miles. I can see his wheels turning.

“
Gillian
.” His voice is a low growl, one I know that precedes his usual fury when he’s not just exercising his sadistic pleasures but actually angry about something one of us did. It’s the tone that always meant that he would shed more than just our tears, he was out for blood. “I was going to have you spend a week in your cell for this latest betrayal. But if you keep this up, you’ll spend a month in there.” His lips shoot up into a half-smirk and I’m almost transfixed watching them. “But if you behave now and come to me…all will be forgiven, my love.”

I laugh, a low throaty laugh that feels good. Because it’s all mine. “I don’t think so, Miles.” I put my hands on my hips, a stance that I know pushes my tits out and gives me a feeling of being centered and ready for anything. I learned this stance from Jill, watching her brace herself for her angry fits. I smile, because she’d like what I’m about to say. They all would…maybe even Grace.

I shake my head against the sadness and focus on his lips like she would’ve. I can muster more anger seeing the smugness pinched with his perfect petals. “There is no more Gillian. And her name was
Grace
, for the record, asshole.” I laugh again and tap my fingers against my hips, liking how his eyes can’t help but go to them.

I also like the little bit of fear I can see in him. He’s only just figuring out what I’m saying, but I know when it really sinks in…he’ll be done. And my victory will be bittersweet, but still a win for me, for Them.

“Simon. You’re going to leave now. And you’re going to leave me the gun. I’m going to shoot this sorry son of a fucking whore’s breath and then I’m going to delight when the police come to question me. Because you, my sweet Stepbrother, my oh so how I tried to give my heart to Miles...you had doctors come here. You had doctors try to
fix
me. But they’ll tell the police how they failed. They’ll say how unstable I am. They’ll testify that I’m nutty and not capable of right or wrong. And I may rot in a padded room for a little while…but I’ve had worse accommodations, haven’t I?” I smile at his shocked look. “And Simon…he’ll get me out…or I’ll get myself out…but one way or another…you’ll be fucking rotten meat in the ground, Miles.”

I smile more at the increased fear I can see pinching his face, twitching all his features with comprehension. Because for the first time, he gets that he’s not in control. And we both get that I could actually go through with shooting him.

And deal with the pain of that memory later…not as a separate someone, but as me. I could do that now.

44

“Fraid I’m not handing over the gun, Red. So if you want this asshole shot, just give me the word, sweetheart. We’ll figure out the police and doctors and shit later.”

My smile softens for a moment as I feel the pull that Grace would have to back down, to give in to both of the men in this room.  But this isn’t the time for softness. “What’s it going to be, Miles?”

And the twitching that started in his face has moved down his body, but he manages to keep his voice steady and regains control of himself quickly. He ignores Simon and the full focus of his stare startles me and makes me want to step back, “I’m not letting you just walk out of here, Gillian…or Gigi…or whatever you want to call yourself. I know you think that running away is the answer. But it’s always been our fate to be together…from that first moment in the library, you remember? Of course you do.” And I smile sadly along with him at the memory of our first touch. “I’m not letting you go. I love you.”

Before I can answer, Simon moves quickly, taking the step that brings him in between Miles and me. I hear the thud of his knees hitting the floor before I see Miles slowly sink down, blood on the side of his head. His eyes are shocked and blanking as he lands on the carpet.

I watch Simon quickly put the gun in his waistband in the back, tucking the jacket over it. I’m shocked by how calm I am watching all this. My heart is racing and seems so loud to my ears that I have a hard time hearing Simon until he’s shaking me by my shoulders.

“Gigi! Red! Come on, sweetheart, stay with me. Don’t you dare faint on me.” He smiles when I finally lift my eyes to his, hearing what he’s saying for the first time again.

“Is he…?”

Simon shakes his head. “I only hit him with the gun.”

And I feel relief at knowing that Miles is still alive. And fear at knowing that my one chance at real freedom is gone.

Simon seems to understand my quick change, but his smile only hardens. “Change of plans.” And I feel his cool lips press my forehead.

45

I hold my elbows, squeezing my arms around myself a little harder. I’m sitting on the bench next to the bed that has been my prison on and off for six years, in the home that has been my prison for that same length of time. The blanket that is always so neatly spread over the foot of the bed is draped over my shoulders. I don’t remember who put it there.

I don’t wince while a man to my right applies a strong smelling antiseptic to my temple, before putting tape and bandage there to cover what Miles did to me.

I watch in silence as the man I now know as Spencer marches into the room with another man I don’t know, but think of as Detective 100. The house is crawling with them.

I keep my expression blank through their questions as I have for the last several hours. I keep my voice steady as I answer everything again as I have for the last several hours.

I keep myself in control as I listen to these men tell me that they found Miles’ phone. They found his laptop. They found the application that tracks my every move. They found the live feed footage that documented the last weeks of punishments and confinement. They found the locked room.

They didn’t find the key for the bracelet, but they’re sending up someone to get it off for me.

They didn’t find Miles, but they’re still looking. They tell me that he’s obviously unstable and they’re leaving police and security to keep an eye out for him.

And I stay blank, safely tucked away in my mind.

It’s no longer a stage with light and dark shadows. It’s a crystal clear pool of water that I wade into and feel the warmth of small waves caress my body.

There’s no end to the water, no night or day. Only the sound of calm waves.

I smile at the man that comes to unlock me. He frowns at the bruises and swelling under the bracelet, but I tell him it doesn’t hurt. He’s gentle anyways.

epilogue

“Hi, Honey, how was work today?” My lips curl into a delicious smile and my left leg bent at the knee sways back and forth, beckoning him to come closer. My long dark curls provide a good cover over my bared breasts. Tendrils that draw his eyes down the length of my exposed body, over my flat stomach rising and falling with my excited breathing, then back up to my nipples poking out between their silky hiding place. My leg continues to gently rock to give him just a glimpse of the smooth lips between my smooth thighs.

“Legs spread, Red. You know the rule.” His voice is strong and commanding as usual, but it also betrays his weariness. I slowly lower my feet on the cool sheets, keeping my legs pressed together to enjoy the pulsing between them for a second longer. In a quick swish across the silken sheets I open my legs, toes pointed as he likes, back arched off the bed a little as he likes.

He stands at the end of the bed, admiring me, a smile playing across his lips as he takes me all in; his stare as hungry for me as I am for him. But I can see the lines between his brows from frowning with effort for some time.

I don’t know how long I’ve been tied to his headboard. I have no sense of time, only of longing and need. The silky rope that binds me in place has enough give to allow me some movement and my feet have been free to be naughty in coming together. But I’ve had no chance at getting away or doing anything except wait for his pleasure.

The sheets are tossed off and the blanket is kicked to the end. I’ve been wickedly trying to gain an orgasm with the pressure and movement of my thighs and ass for some time now. I can smell Simon on the pillows that prop me up; I can smell myself in the air from the heat of my movements. It’s our usual combination of spicy and sweet. And I match him as he takes a deep breath in through his nose, reminded of an animal hunting down prey.

I watch as he removes his black t-shirt. I know he showered before he came to me, as he always does; water droplets from his blond hair fall still on his muscled chest and I strain with the desire to lick their path. His white teeth show as he licks his lips; he knows my thoughts.

My eyes follow the lines of his arms and stomach as he flexes with movement to remove his black lounge pants and shoes. He’s without underwear and I’m treated to a full view of his cock. He’s hard as he always is.

“Making good progress. I left Cary to finish up today.” I can hear the darkness in his voice, the depth that only hints at what he won’t share. But I know still. And when his eyes drag up my body, I close mine against the wave of that darkness. It’s a match to mine, a wave that we’ll ride together.

“Look at me, Gigi.” His commands. His voice. Him. I melt against the bed with the desire to comply, to obey, to give. But I know what he needs. What we need. And it’s not my softness right now that he craves. I keep my eyes closed.

The sound of the leather crop slicing the air strikes me first, the heat spreads across both my nipples at once. I open my eyes and mouth to let out one low moan. I’m met with his smile and the darkness recedes for a moment.

He pushes my hair off my breasts with the crop, but he hesitates, tracing the red line but not striking again. I only wait quietly.

His voice is so low, but it startles me since watching his hand move back and forth was almost hypnotizing, “I think it’ll be another week. I have a buyer in Durban lined up, a friend of a friend.”

I only nod, still watching and waiting. He clears his throat, coming out of whatever thoughts he isn’t sharing. “I’ll need to deliver the product myself as usual, but I have that arranged. Cary’ll stay here with you.” I nod again.

He’s silent for so long, that my mind wanders back to a day six months ago.

“He’s insane, Red. I could hear it in his words, see it in his eyes.” I nod my agreement, looking down at the body of the man that first had my heart. The man who wanted me, a different me, all to himself. The man who wanted all my pain, wanted me to be ruled by the hurt I’d always known, the pain he wanted to control.

“He’d never let you go. He’d see you destroyed, locked away, before he’d let that happen.” I can only nod again, not taking my eyes off Miles. He hasn’t moved, but Simon has.

He closes the bedroom door quickly and comes back to stand between Miles and me, taking my arms in a light squeeze of his hands. I pull my eyes up to his and am surprised to see him smiling. A real smile, eyes twinkling, lips open. I can only blink in return. “But I can’t let that happen, sweetheart. I won’t let you pull the trigger and destroy yourself to gain your freedom from this piece of shit.”

I smile at that, “Let me, Trust?”

He grabs my chin, but gently, his eyes moving back up to the gash on my head. “Yes. Let you.” His eyes change and his whole body tenses, a shift that I counter with softening into him more. “I need to know some things first.”

“Shoot.” I raise an eyebrow and get a small smile out of him for my sarcasm. I’m amazingly still very calm with everything that’s happened. I think it’s Lilly’s influence and that makes me both sad and happy, lost for a moment in my own thoughts.

Simon relaxes a little, but his hand stays on my chin, keeping my eyes locked on his, keeping me focused on him. “Is Grace really gone?”

I can only nod against his hand for a moment, swallowing with the effort to say it out loud, “They’re all gone.” He nods too, running his hand over my cheek and catching tears I didn’t know were falling.

He stiffens more, “Do you still think you belong to him? Do you still love him?”

I smile that this is what he wants to know. In the middle of this seriously fucked up situation. But his frown darkens at me taking too long to answer. I lean into him and reach for his lips to kiss me softly; but he doesn’t respond, instead he growls into my mouth, “Answer me.”

“There’s a part of me…of her…that…,” I shake my head trying to make sense of what I feel. I decide to say only what I’m sure of right now. I’ll sort the rest out later. “That’s my past. I don’t belong to my past anymore, Simon.”

He smiles and relaxes again, before yanking me into his arms and planting a big kiss on my lips, pulling away, then smashing back into me like he can’t get enough of my tongue. With his forehead pressed to mine, his words are lustful and take my breath away, “Am I your future then, Gigi…Do you belong to me?”

My own lust boils my words to almost a painful depth, hot air more than words, “Is that what you still want?”

His nod moves our heads together in a slow up and down. “Say it. Say you belong with me, to me.”

“Yes….We belong together, Trust…We belong to each other.” His lips trace their way down my face, over my eyelid, nose, cheek, lips, ending on my neck and making me squeal with a small bite.

He pulls away and grabs his phone from his back pocket, a strained smile starting on his set face. He turns back to Miles’ body. “I’m going to get this shitbag out of here. And you’re going to do exactly as I tell you to, Red.”

I grab his shoulder and force him to turn back to me. “Don’t push me, Simon. You can’t just order me around. What the fuck are you going to do with him?”

His smile spreads and he kisses my nose, ignoring my question as his call is answered. “Second floor, East wing. There’s a close elevator by the door near you. Bring the cart…and Cary, don’t get noticed by anyone.”

He ends his call and puts his phone back. Then he puts his arms around me, low at my waist, pushing our hips together. “Do you trust me?” I nod. His eyes move over my face, “You look like shit.”

I slug his shoulder, but he smiles. “No. It’s good. We’ll use it.” He kisses the frown between my brows, then lets me go to open the door a little and keep a look out. I only stand, staring from him to Miles, unsure of what to do.

I watch as Cary moves inside quietly with a cloth covered tray table. He takes in the blood on me and Miles on the floor without saying a word. I notice for the first time that he and Simon are dressed in matching jackets.

“You were planning to kidnap me?”

Simon smiles as he closes the door quietly. “Get him on the cart. We need to move fast.” When Cary lifts the side of the cloth, I can see rope and duct tape.

“Everything one needs for a kidnapping…” I stand with my hands on my hips, my sarcasm unanswered by either man.

Simon smiles though as he ties the rope around Miles, tucking his arms and legs into a tight ball to keep his body hidden under the small table. Cary helps lift Miles and the metal trays clang with his deadweight.

Simon stands up and Cary finishes with tape and pushing Miles into a better position.

Simon puts his hands on my shoulders, running them down my arms to pull my hands off my hips and onto his. “I told you before…I won’t give you choices. I wasn’t leaving here without you.” But I see the softness in his smile. I see his need for softness in return. A softness that I’m still not used to.

“Thank you for coming for me.”

He kisses me, but Cary breaks us up, “Hey…can we get a move on here, Cuz…you two can fuck in the van if you want.”

“She’s staying.” I start to open my mouth, so does Cary, but Simon cuts us both off. “Are their surveillance cameras here?”

I shake my head. “No. Only in the cell.”

I watch Simon’s jaw tic for a moment. “He kept you in a cell?” I can only nod against the fury I see in his eyes. He shakes it away, focusing on me again. “You’re going to wait twenty minutes, then stumble out of here. Find anyone and tell them that Miles struck you…it’ll be obvious, but make sure that you sound disoriented, confused. Say he hit you and then ran out of here. He sounded crazed and maniacal and ranted about jealousy and crap…make up whatever. Say you passed out and you don’t know how long he’s been gone or what he’s capable of. Can you say all that?”

I nod. “The police will come. He has security everywhere. They’ll investigate.”

“Good. They’ll find a battered wife, a sick fuck with a torture chamber, and nothing else.” He kisses my forehead. “This is important, Red. Do not contact me. In any way. I’ll let you know when it’s safe. But you just keep up the appearance of an upset wife with a missing crazy husband. Can you do that?”

I nod again and almost cry when he kisses me once briefly before following Cary out the door, closing it quietly behind him. I jump when he comes back in quickly, searching the floor. He stoops and picks up the metal chunk from the door’s lock, putting it in his pocket. He rushes to me and grabs me in a hug and another quick, but deeper kiss. “I’m never letting you go, Red. We’ll be together soon, sweetheart…just hold on.”

His words were echoes of what Miles said so many times before. They contained all the same love, all the same possessiveness, all the same desire that Miles had for Grace.

And I know that they contained all the same craziness too. Only a man crazy in love could do what Simon’s done for me.

I followed his plan. I played the foolish wife with the insane husband. I let every detail of my life with Miles and Mother come out. I showed the police the room that was hidden, the cameras that were aimed. I showed them the bracelet that tracked me. I let them examine me and see the fresh and old wounds. I was calm through their horrified stares, telling and retelling the same story.

The news was brutal. I refused all photos, interviews and comments. But they crucified Miles and made me a martyr, a saint, a victim anyway.

With no leads, no new information, the police stopped asking questions eventually. It’s still an ongoing investigation, but I was granted a no-fault divorce with very little fuss.

I changed my name. It was all I could do to honor Martin Vanderson’s memory and mourn the tarnish I had inflicted on his great name and empire. I officially became Gigi Grace Martin a few months ago.

And still, I waited to hear from Simon. I stayed in Seattle, bought a small condo to make it look like I was starting over, moving on. I kept to myself and didn’t go out, so not much of my life changed for a while. I was still locked away because of Miles. I was still in hiding because of him.

Simon came for me a few weeks ago. He said his plan was close to being finished and he needed me.

I’d never heard anything more beautiful. And I cried in his arms while he undressed me and entered me quickly. Like we did when this craziness all started, standing up, pressed to a wall, too hot for each other to remove all our clothes or let any space come in between us for even a second.

His need for me was evident in his quick thrusts and deep moans, muffled against a bite on my shoulder. It was the first time that I didn’t cum during sex, but I got what I needed out of it. I had my Trust against me, kissing me and telling me we’d never be apart again.

He drove me to his home that day, straight through. He carried me up to his bed and without any words, we started our future. I undressed and laid myself out for him, much as I am now. And he opened his cabinet and selected his favorite whip. I more than made up for not having an orgasm during our initial reunion that night and into the next day.

I smile at him now with the memory of how many times he made me scream his name. The next night, entwined in us and blankets and sweat, he said he needed to hear my cries, needed to have them filling his head.

I knew what he meant. I saw the pills in the bathroom. I know the price he’s paying for me. He won’t let me see, but I know.