Chapter 11
MALCOLM
As we move into October, the cold weather settles in.
The wind picks up with its icy fingers. The crazy fuckers wearing masks and kidnapping Chicagoans off the street, ‘to clean up foreign criminals,’ continues, but the efforts are stuttered now while they’re hunted in turn.
The world watches, somewhat dumbfounded, as a video a week is released of one of their masked agents being identified and then brutally murdered.
There’s confusion, fear, and fury from the federal government.
While even the most targeted demographic denounces violent answers to the violent attacks from the American gestapo, there’s a very strong, loud, and monumental resistance taking hold in this country.
Yes, the people would like a peaceful end to the cruel regime, but we’re reminded that throughout history, that’s an unlikely answer. It rarely works.
Revolutionary and civil wars have one thing in common—peace didn’t work, and the people needed to resort to answering violence with violence.
It’s honestly frightening that this is what we’re heading toward right now.
In the twenty-first century, this is where we’re heading in what is supposed to be one of the most progressive countries in the world.
However, as perhaps selfish as it is, my attention isn’t focused on outside events. It’s centered on Kairo. I’m not going to say he’s opening up or that he’s becoming more talkative. He’s not volunteering his deep, dark secrets.
He is asking me for what he wants. Never does he actually initiate something, but he asks for it. He loves being fucked. He loves the orgasms I give him in his office. But more often than sexual touch, he wants to be held. He wants to be praised.
Not praise for the things he’s doing in Chicago.
I learned quickly that it will send him straight into a grumpy mood if I so much as mention his good deeds.
Through some subtle trial and error, I realized that it’s all about Kairo himself.
That’s what he wants seen. He’s shown me pieces of him no one else sees, and he wants to know that those pieces aren’t revolting.
He wants to know that I’m not going to throw him away because of those pieces.
Kairo Van Doren feigns confidence well when there are people around. When the public looks at him. When he’s talking to his family. It’s a mask that slips down as easily as one might put on a shirt. Or socks. It comes down and conceals every soft piece of him I’ve come to know.
He’s slow to let it go after. I see his defenses lock into place when we’re alone again. When his brother is no longer on the computer, watching him. He’s tense. Afraid.
I haven’t gotten to the bottom of it. I don’t know where it comes from. I have a feeling it originates from something in his childhood because on the days he has to speak to literally anyone in his family, the fight to push me away is strong.
Usually, I can sit there with my arms folded over my chest while he struggles through his internal issues.
Once, just once, after he fumed for more than an hour and fought not to demand I leave, he slammed his office door shut and then stood beside me while I sat in the chair.
Fidgeting. I thought I knew what he wanted, but I wasn’t going to initiate anything.
He needed to understand that he’s a grown-ass adult, and he’s going to act like one.
“Hold me?” he murmured. “Please?”
There was something in that particular conversation with Jalon that set him off.
Some sharp talons that dug down deep and refused to let him settle.
I held him for the rest of the day. I took him to dinner after, and we tucked ourselves away in a distant booth where I could spoil the fuck out of him.
Then I fucked him throughout the night, letting him release his defenses little by little until he was completely and utterly relaxed in my arms while he slept.
Today, he’s quiet. Kairo is always quiet, but he’s extra quiet today as he stares at his computer. He’s not watching videos today. I’m not sure what he’s looking at, but it’s something that he’s not entirely concentrating on. He looks lost in thought, more than focused on the screen.
“Kairo.” His eyes flicker to mine. “What’s wrong, baby?”
For just a second, his lips press together. He hates that he loves being my baby girl and my good boy. I think the ping-ponging in pronouns has him constantly unsteady. Unsure. Confused about why he likes the terms of endearment.
He doesn’t tell me what’s wrong, which doesn’t surprise me, and I don’t hold it against him. He just shakes his head subtly and says, “Nothing.”
I don’t push. I’ll never push. Earning Kairo’s trust is the ultimate test of patience. Based on how few people he speaks to, I’m guessing that no one has made him believe that he’s worth their time.
The thought makes my chest tight. I get to my feet, and his eyes track me as I round the desk to press my lips to the top of his head. His body tenses, and I realize he’s waiting for me to say goodbye.
“You’re worth the time it takes to earn your trust, Kairo,” I say gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His shiver is subtle, but his swallow is loud. “Why?” he whispers, surprising me when he actually responds.
“Why what?”
“I—why are you insistent on… being here?”
I’d like to pull him to his feet and hold him. His question might sound blasé, but I hear how vulnerable it actually is. So I don’t make him face me right now.
“Because the man you hide needs someone to care for him. I like that man, and I want to spend time with him.”
Kairo holds his breath. He looks up, meeting my eyes with his shiny ones. “Why?”
I touch his lips, brushing my thumb along the hair on his jaw.
“I want to keep that man safe. I want him to trust me with his heart.” I lean down to press my lips to his.
He’s trembling slightly. “I want you, Kairo. There isn’t always an answer to the question you ask.
Sometimes, it’s a soul-deep feeling that you can’t explain.
Everything inside me wants you. That’s why. ”
Tears shine in his eyes. I think I see his safeguards falling as I watch him.
The moment is interrupted by a knock on the door. It’s sharp, quick. Kairo jerks, attention turning to the door and then around his office. He flinches, sighs, and glances up at me. I’m pleased when he offers me the hint of a smile before ducking his head.
I return to the chair I vacated as Kairo calls for the person’s entrance.
Carlotta looks upset. Her eyes land on me for just a second before she says, “Maria is here. She’s sobbing. Something happened to Lucy, I think.”
Kairo’s eyes go wide. The softness I’d just seen vanishes as he gets to his feet and buttons his suit jacket. “Bring her in.”
She nods. Kairo follows her to the door, and I follow him.
The woman comes around the corner, and I can physically feel her panic and fear.
When she sees Kairo, she rushes down the hall, and I have no idea what she’s saying.
She’s not speaking English. It doesn’t sound like Spanish either, though a few words are familiar.
“Look at me, Maria,” Kairo demands gently. He says something else in the same language Maria must be speaking as he brushes the tears from her face. “I need you to take a breath and tell me what happened,” he says.
Though I know this isn’t the time to take note of this, I can’t stop myself from looking at Kairo.
He’s an entirely different person from all the other parts of him I’ve seen.
He’s not an asshole right now with armor so thick that our ancestors would have loved to duplicate it for wars.
He’s not the vulnerable man unused to being seen for who he truly is.
This one is confident. He commands the room. But he’s also kind. Gentle. Caring.
Maria struggles through her sobs, gasping for breath. I take a step back and retrieve one of the bottles of water from Kairo’s office. Cracking the cap, I offer it to her. She looks at me without seeing me as she takes it.
“Obrigada,” she says and takes it from me. She takes a sip, her eyes still filled with tears and wild with fear.
“Come here,” Kairo says and leads her into his office. Carlotta stands in the doorway, hands clasped to her chest. Kairo has Maria sit on the couch just inside the door. Once she takes another sip of water, he asks, “Tell me what happened.”
Tears immediately begin falling down Maria’s face, her hands shaking. “Lucy was taken from the school.” She hands Kairo the water in her hand and pulls out her phone. “Another parent caught it on her phone, but it’s… a short video. A clip. Not the whole abduction.”
Chills race over my body.
The video is scratchy, filled with noise. Panicking shouts and children screaming. It’s a short clip, as if someone pulled out their phone when the incident was just about over. Maybe forty-five seconds. Kairo watches it several times before looking at Maria.
“Will you send this to me?”
She nods and forwards the video.
“Which school?”
“Down the street, Coolidge Elementary.”
“Was she the only one taken?” Kairo asks.
She shakes her head. “Three little girls.”
I wince. Fuck.
“When did this happen? What time?”
“This morning, when the children were being dropped off. The police—they don’t know anything. All day, they don’t know anything!” More tears rapidly track down her face, and Kairo gently brushes them away. “I don’t know what to do. They have my baby.”
“Eu sei, senhora. Eu sei, eu sei. We’ll find her. I promise.”
“What do I do?” she asks, and then says something in her native language that’s broken with a sob that I don’t catch.
“Go with Carlotta,” Kairo says, raising his eyes to Carlotta in the doorway.
“Reach out to other parents; see if anyone else caught another video clip or can recall details of the car, the people abducting the children. I know it’s difficult, but it’s important to gather as much as you can.
Text me everything you learn, even if it sounds unimportant. Can you do that?”
Maria nods and wipes her eyes.
“Seja forte. Seja corajosa. We need to work fast. Carlotta will help you.”
“Sim. Sim.” Maria gets to her feet, and Kairo stands. He wipes her eyes again with both his thumbs.
“We’ll find Lucy. I promise.”
His words make me flinch. That’s a heavy promise.
She answers in rapid… Portuguese? Is that the language she speaks? However, I catch Van Doren mixed in her words, and Kairo laughs, bowing his head.
“No fooling you, senhora.” He kisses her forehead. “Go dig for more information. I’ll see what I can find.”
Maria nods. She looks at me briefly and picks up the water. Inclining her head, she says, “Thank you.”
I nod. Carlotta wraps her arm around Maria’s shoulders and ushers her down the hall. Not toward the front but in the opposite direction. Kairo shuts the door. He pauses with his hand on the handle for a moment, his shoulders rising.
He turns and looks at me. There’s a war in his eyes. A battle between asking me to go or allowing me to stay.
“I was hunted like a wild animal for someone to torture me to death for more than four months,” I remind him.
Kairo inclines his head. He doesn’t respond as he strides to his desk. “Schools should be safe places for children,” he says flatly. “I’m going to tear this city apart to find her.”
I take my seat across from him. “Is it—?”
“No,” he answers before I can finish my question. He hands me his phone with the video up. “It’s not the gestapo. This is something else.”