Chapter twenty-one #2
Twisting the knob, I find it’s locked. Shoving my shoulder against the door, it gives with not a lot of pressure from me. The lock snaps, the door flies open, banging loudly against the wall. I’m already pulling my machete from its holster, ready to confront the idiot who dared touch what’s mine.
Stopping short, I see the small figure huddling in the corner, her eyes wide, looking at me, no different than she did ten years ago. It guts me seeing the tears streaming down her beautiful face as she covers her mouth in an effort to muffle her cries.
Sheathing my weapon, I go to her. Getting on my haunches, “Hey, ti dezod.” I give her soft words in her native language.
Luminous eyes watch me as I scoop her up. The edge of my Henley is already wet before I reach the door. I don’t stop until I get to my work truck, thankful that I drove it, thinking I’d be off-roading looking for Kandie way out on the north side of the county.
She’s quiet as I buckle her in. The only indication she’s not catatonic is the way her legs curl back up and the self-soothing she does, rocking back and forth.
This time I don’t follow the road into the city center. Instead, I take her deep into el Diablo territory, to the place I built to keep her safe. I don’t even think about it — not really. The need rises within me out of something deep and primal.
By the time we arrive, her sobs have given way to the Haitian Creole lullaby she can only remember the tune of.
Getting out, I go around to her side.
“I got you.” Whispering against the softness of her locs, I gather her up again. The doors to the mansion open, and Aponi looks on with worry lacing her gaze.
“Kandie escaped and showed up at the el Diablo MC.” Giving her the details rapidly, I tell her of everything I know of what’s transpired this evening.
“I wonder if any of those kids are some of my tribe thought were runaways,” she muses.
“I’m sure it’s possible. Could be from all over the state for all we know.” I agree with her, shifting Saban in my arms. “Lock up for me.” I don’t bother waiting, knowing I can trust her to do as she’s asked.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I make it to the second level. By then she’s shivering.
Not wasting any time, I being the ritual started years ago. Only now, just like the other night, once the water is filled, I get in with her rather than wait outside or in the living room for her to emerge.
Silken legs rub against mine. This time I don’t even remark about the water’s heat. Just holding her is enough for me. Pulling her close, I murmur words in all three languages we share to soothe her. “I’m so proud of you.”
Rubbing the scented vanilla-rose soap into the net sponge, I work it into a fragrant lather.
“Taking care of yourself is paramount, no matter what else is going on. You did the right thing when you got overwhelmed.” Smoothing the soapy mesh along her skin, I continue my praise until we are both clean and languid by the time the water cools. Rising, I bring her with me.
Drying and moisturizing her is like a thing of worship.
Massaging her creams and lotions into her skin is reverence to me.
Her body glistens, nipples stand proud, the soft nest between her legs beckons, and it takes every bit of my will not to just kneel before her, bury my face there and feast. Tonight she’s not a vessel for my passion but a woman worthy of my care.
Thinking as much, I tuck her into the massive bed I had Rocco build before she fled from me when I decided to make her mine all those months ago.
She tugs me back when I move to leave after securing a silk scarf on her head. “Stay.”
Helpless to deny her, I do. Sliding in beside her, I shift onto my side, tucking her close.
“Lights.” Calling out the instruction causes them to dim. However, cognizant of her night terrors, the recess lights along the floorboards cast the room in an ambient glow.
“Kandie coming in like that —” her breath catches.
Squeezing her a little in support, I wait for her to continue.
“I don’t know if it was the way she came in there — her nudity…
” A rough sob shakes her, and I feel hot tears on my arm where her head rests.
“It made me remember. Or at least I think I do?” Twisting until her dark gaze meets mine, she asks in a hushed whisper.
“Was I naked, tied to a bed, when you rescued me?”
She wakes up screaming, and I can’t say I’m surprised, nor do I blame her. After what she witnessed tonight, and what she endured, I’m lucky she did not break.
“Yes,” I told her, helping her recall the events of that night, careful not to lead her as the therapist once advised.
“And my parents? Are you sure they died that night?” No one could have survived that massacre. She didn’t see what I did as we escaped, and I was busy doing my best to shield her from it.
“You lost so much that night. It’s going to take time to make sense of it, if we ever can.”
There are never answers to human avarice and evil men do. We’ve both seen firsthand the victims and barely escaped being targets ourselves.
“Cocoa?” I ask once she fought her way free of the terror.
“Sounds great.” She says, falling back into our routine of handling her dreams.
Once we settle with warm mugs in our hands, we talk more of that night and the days that followed.
“Your uncle and aunt sacrificed a lot to help us leave.” Gratitude for what they’d done was one of the main reasons I’d fought so hard once I got here to make enough money to free them from the yoke of oppression.
“They are proud to have done it.” Not sure how much she remembers from those days fraught with their doors being kicked in at any moment, they had to go into hiding until they could seek asylum. Saban and I had no choice but to leave right away or be killed.
“Still, Seattle is a long way from Colombia and way colder.” Her face scrunches up. She’s never liked the cold.
“They love it. Uncle says it’s been too long since we visited.
” I don’t tell her they begged me to let her go, but I just couldn’t.
They know, just as I do, even as she curls up close to me seeking cuddles and warmth, that she should run screaming from the serpent ready to constrict around her, ready to devour rather than let her go.
I shift uncomfortably with the thoughts assailing me.
She snuggles closer.
“Hadrián, why did you pick the road name, Snake?”
I huff out a laugh, knowing she never liked it.
“Oh, sweetheart, I didn’t pick it. I earned it.
Once I patched in Angel bestowed the name on me — clam, clever, determined, he may have even thrown in wise.
He also knew I would kill anyone who dared threaten my haven, or anything I held precious.
He knew that because of what I did for you — what I’ve proven again and again when it comes to you. ” My words are emphatic and clear.
She knows I’ve laid motherfuckers down for even looking her way with too much interest.
“You’ve always looked out for me.” She says around a heavy yawn.
Pulling the cashmere throw around us, I hold her as day breaks.
Last night so many things broke free — Kandie from her captor, Saban from her hidden past, and me from the delusion that she’ll ever be free of her nightmares as long as the biggest one lingers.
That knowledge is a cold, brutal comfort, and one I’m not sure I’m ready to fully extricate myself from.