we were one once book 2: "A Dark Romance" (5 page)

10

It’s always a little disorienting to be out at first, to take the stage from another. When we were younger, before we had even imagined the stage as a stage, it was worse. I would black out for seconds or minutes before becoming conscious again of my physical surroundings then. This resulted in a lot more bumps and bruises as a child. But those injuries paled in comparison to the ones we already had from Mother. And I never felt them anyway.

It was when Mother took me to see the Nutcracker when I was five that I first started to imagine a stage in my head. I pictured myself in the center, with a big spotlight on me. I didn’t move like the dancers on the stage that Christmas, I stayed still in the warm light. But I could watch safely from that spot all that happened in the outside world.

I pictured the others too. I couldn’t really see them as they stayed in the darker edges or behind curtains it seemed. We knew about each other before then, partly anyway. But on the stage, we started to see each other more clearly over the years. And our number grew to five. I think there are others, but they choose to stay so far back from the light that we never see them. We don’t know them. We only hear them sometimes.

Gigi has seen every dark corner beyond the stage. She’s fearless in her explorations, but she won’t tell the rest of us what she finds. Or who. And it’s probably for the best. I don’t think we really want to know. The darkness we’ve each seen outside is bad enough for us.

Turning away from the stage and the heat from the light above, I can concentrate on the outside more. I can force myself to be a part of the physical world without blacking out or missing a beat between another’s retreat. We’ve all perfected this. We’ve learned not to leave our body unguided or unguarded for any length of time.

I become aware of our body as always. Not as awakening from a dream, but as emerging from a pool of water, waves of sensations ripple across my skin. A tingle in my toes against a strap of leather, a coolness of fabric against my legs, an itch from a hair moved by the air against my cheek. And the heat from a body held too close against mine.

I look down first, too afraid to look up yet. I see his strong and elegant hand on my waist. I see his fingers squeeze slightly before registering the increase in pressure on my body.

“There’s my sweet Gilli.” His deep and melodic voice is also a wave I can feel from head to toe.

I look up enough to see his lips. They’re parted in a smile, his teeth just showing. I watch as his tongue pushes out and wets the surface of them more. I admire how the petal pinkness glistens in the romantic lighting. I lick my own lips in response and he smiles more. “I knew that would get your attention. You wouldn’t want to make any trouble for your new
friend
, would you?” I shake my head, not taking my eyes off of his lips now. I let a deep breath out as the sneer fades that accompanied his emphasis. “Good. Sex trafficking can be such a messy charge to get out of, especially when there’s so much evidence to be found so easily.”

It only took a moment for Miles’ threat to register with each of us. Only a second to come to a decision that we’ve run from for three years.
My
decision ultimately, but one we will all have to live with in the end.

His lips smile again. I’ve been able to read whole volumes of emotions from just watching his mouth. I know if he’s happy or sad or angry or anxious from even the smallest movement of those two perfect petals. And it takes every bit of willpower to stay standing at the dread I feel now from what I see in them. There is no end to the rage his lips hold back with that deceptively charming smile.

The choice of freedom at the cost of Simon’s was no choice at all. Not for me anyway. But it still takes every bit of strength I’ve managed to gain over our brief years of freedom to stay on the stage, alone. To stay pressed to Miles.

And thoughts of strength make me do something foolish. I look up into his eyes to say what we need to say. They are just as I remember them, black coal pits that match his smile. All charm and beauty, all rage and fury. His anger is obvious at my lack of submission in looking directly into his eyes now. But I manage to hold onto the small amount of courage I have, while I’m still able to, “If I go with you now, Miles, will you leave…him alone?” I’m not foolish enough to dare to say Simon’s name. I could see the narrowing of the coal pits just at the thought of his name passing through my lips. I lower my eyes quickly back to his mouth, watching as it jerks up into a sneer.

“Of course, my love. You may consider it your
homecoming
present.” My knees buckle at these words, but his hand helps to stop me from moving.

I retreat onto the stage a little to steady myself, to get out what I need to say next. I know I’ll pay for this, but it has to be done. “I’ll need to say goodbye to him…so he doesn’t look for me.”

The smile and hand tighten at the same time, “How thoughtful of you. I’m sure
he’ll
appreciate not being left to wonder what happened to you…” He doesn’t need to say that it was his fate to wonder when Gigi ran three years ago, taking me away from him. His smile relaxes a little, “But don’t think of trying to get away from me again. I have eyes everywhere and you’re leaving here with me tonight one way or another.”

I can only nod my agreement, too afraid to trust my voice.

Glass shattering startles my attention away for a moment. And the anger and betrayal so clear on Simon’s face sends me racing further onto the stage, my false courage stripped away completely.

I barely feel Miles move his hand and turn around, I’m too busy falling face first onto the stage, weeping in fear, pain and relief at getting away. Gigi takes my place quickly. But I know it’ll only be a brief respite.

11

I grab her wrist and pull her with me to a darker corner of the riddling room. Shielding her from view and trying to keep my voice lowered, it’s through gritted teeth that I address her. “What the fuck to do you think you’re doing, Red?” I find my hands clutching her upper arms and shaking her almost off the floor.

She’s impervious to the pain, as always. But there’s something in her eyes I’ve never seen. Almost pain. Almost fear. Almost sadness? “What were you doing talking to Miles, letting him touch you like that after I
ordered
you to stay away from him?”

She doesn’t move away or even wiggle in my tight grip, but her eyes burn with anger, smoldering out whatever other emotion she was hiding. “You’re not the boss of me, Trust. I’ll talk to anyone I want.” I feel my hand itch to slap her. She feels my fingers twitch and looks down and up quickly with her challenging smirk.

“Watch how you talk to me, Red. I haven’t taken you to the cave where I’ve tortured many a girl before you, but I won’t hesitate to take you there tonight if you keep this up.” I see her face flinch at this. I can’t tell if it’s the reminder of girls before her or the threat of torturing her, but it got her attention at least.

“So what? You’d treat
us
like just another one of your little sex slaves, Simon? You think
I’m
afraid of what
you
could do to me?” She thinks reminding me of her other selves, the ones that I could never harm, will break my anger. But I’m beyond thinking about anything right now except my blind obsession and crazed possessiveness.

“I’m not playing here. This is your last warning to start behaving, Red. No. Fuck that.” I stand up, letting her arms go. “Get Grace.” This is the first time that I’ve demanded that she switch personalities. I’m not even sure that it works like that. I regret saying it the moment I see the look in her eyes though.

She flashes a second of pain and more of that something else I can’t figure out, but it’s gone in the next blink of her eyes. She laughs one sharp breath out and swallows hard, “Too bad.
She
doesn’t want to see you either, Trust.”

“Everything okay over here?” I turn a little at Cary’s whispered voice behind us. I know how this must look. A crazy man making a scene. Grandfather would be so proud.

I let Red push me out of her way and storm off to the bathroom. Before turning around, I take a deep breath and brush both hands across my face. “Yeah, everything’s just great, Cuz. Let’s get a drink.”

12

Staring into a mirror is always an unique experience for me. I’ve aged with this body. So has Grace. It’s not that. I know it’s more difficult for Lilly, Baby and Jill. They avoid mirrors all together.

But viewing my reflection always takes a moment for my eye to communicate to my brain that it’s
me
that I’m seeing. The doctors said it was unusual for me to have both such a strong sense of self and an awareness of the inconsistencies in our existences. I guess they expected that I would just override what I see in a mirror to be what I actually am. Grace does.

But I am fully aware that this is a body that I share with others. I know the dark haired, dark eyed beauty in the reflection is me as everyone else sees me, but I also know that I’m taller and shapelier in reality. I know my features are more exotic and my eyes are more interesting with flecks of caramel mingling with the chocolate.

Looking at the bathroom’s mirror now, I’m not seeing either version of myself though. My eyes are too blurred with angry tears.

Three years of freedom and it’s all I’ll probably ever have. I squandered it. And I shared it with the others. I made good on my promised plan. We each had our time on the stage. I even gave Grace and Lilly their own home and that crappy job in Castro to feel safer. They thought I was foolish for keeping such a nice place and splashing my photos around the city.

But I knew that I had covered my tracks. I didn’t tell them that I only planned on staying in San Francisco for a few more months. And the name I’d chosen for us, Grace Martin, would disappear again, never to be reused. I made the name up to help ease Grace out of the corner of the stage. And because Martin Vanderson was the only kind man I ever knew.

That was before we met Simon. Before I was foolish enough to think that disappearing within the walls of his home would be good enough. Before I let myself fall into the trap of feeling safe.

And now it’s all over. And it’s
my
fault.
I
promised to protect us. And all the planning, running and hiding were for nothing. Came to nothing. Except more fear, more pain.

I know all too well that Miles will be maniacal in his anger and retribution. And I won’t be able to protect poor Grace this time.

But I
can
protect Simon at least. He has his faults, but he shouldn’t have to pay for my mistakes. He shouldn’t have to suffer for my foolishness.

I wipe away the last of the tears, annoyed with myself for letting them fall at all. I can’t afford to show any weakness right now.

I take out the folded card I grabbed off a table. One side has the night’s events and highlighted wines, the other side is blank except for the winery’s logo. Not much space in which to break a man’s heart.

Less
is
more, I guess.

Holding my breath, I start the short and not so sweet note.

13

“So what’s going on with you tonight?” Cary led me to a quieter corner in the next room, away from the barrels and tables, while he went for more drinks. I’ve kept my back to the crowd of people, but I can feel eyes on me still. The coolness of the room only serves to accentuate the heat in the pit of my stomach.

I take the glass of offered wine from his hand. “Nothing.” His frown deepens at the sharpness of my tone. “Sorry. It’s not you.”

“Scarlet?” He barely whispers her name, like he doesn’t want to set me off again.

I barely nod in response, not wanting to say anymore on the subject either. I take the opportunity to take a big drink instead.

“So…” Cary’s embarrassment is almost as bad as mine. “Wanna tell me why you’re so worked up about a girl I didn’t even know existed until tonight?”

I square my shoulders and look down the two inches I have over him, “Nope.”

“Have it your way, Cuz.” He takes a big drink too. “I’ll let you get back to your fun then. Me? I plan on pissing away some of your not-so-hard-earned money on a couple of barrel options and impressing a few on-their-way-to-drunk girls I spotted earlier.” With that, he downs his glass and turns away.

That was his non-subtle reminder of the orgy that ended last year’s event. The entanglement of legs, arms, pussy and ass
was
a lot of fun. But that was before I met a woman that had my insides twisted and tangled around her.

How have I let myself get so fucked up over one girl in such a short amount of time?! I laugh quietly, it’s not really
one
girl. I can imagine the look on Cary’s face if I tried to explain
that
.

I really need to take some time to think through all this. Since seeing Grace for the first time, then losing her all those months ago, then discovering her again…and her secrets…I haven’t had any time to really think what to do. I’ve only acted on instinct. And desire.

It’s crazy to think that anything can come of this. Right? I mean…I can’t
really
be thinking that I could make this work with her. With
them
.

But I know how useless it sounds even to me. Whatever time I had to make up my mind is long gone.

Grandfather had warned me that being led by my impulsiveness and obsessions could lead to nothing but trouble. The old man is probably laughing his ass off at me right now. Fuck. But I think he would’ve liked her. All of her. At least the part of her that doesn’t put up with my bullshit.

Sighing heavily and finishing the wine, I feel a little clearer. Almost calm enough to deal with Red again. Hopefully she’s calmed down too.

I smile thinking about how angry she looked. I wonder how she’d look naked, stretched out with a bar between her legs, arms pulled tight over her head, and that fire of anger in her eyes. She’s been defiant before, but angry could be a whole new side of fun.