Nine

Chapter 7. I Could Just Die

I pull up to the airport and park. Trig holds his arm as he climbs out of the car.

“Pop the trunk,” he shouts, before he slams his door.

I do so, and then leap out after him. He stands there looking down inside the car.

“Two for you and two for me,” he says.

I poke my head inside the trunk to see four black duffel bags. I reach down and unzip one. It’s filled to the top with cash.

“Where did you get all this?” I say, looking around in fear that someone may be watching us. I hurry and zip the bag closed.

“I guess you could call this blood money. The Savior was a dick, but at least he paid me.”

Trig stands there quietly while I go into hyperactive mode. I’m not sure if it’s because we’re about to carry four bags of illegal cash inside an airport or the fact that this money was payment for Trig killing people, but I’m shitting oversized bricks.

“You know, we could stay here. I have a whole room of cash at my house. We could pick it up and then travel to a new state. We don’t have to leave the country. I have money. Lots of money. I’ll sit down and talk to Jenny. It will be fine. I can finally find out the truth, and me and you, we can stay.”

Trig looks at me, and it seems that he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. I watch as he struggles with his thoughts and then he runs one hand over his shaved head.

“I didn’t want to tell you this. Not here. Not now.”

“Tell me what?” I ask.

Trig closes his eyes.

“That money is gone, Nine.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, as I step back.

“Jenny used to stock all your cash in a room with pink lace curtains, right?”

I knit my eyebrows together. I’m confused. How would he know?

“That night when I saved you at the hotel, I brought you to Bones’ place. He stitched you up and gave you meds. While he was doing that, I went through your purse and found your cell phone. You had at least twenty messages from Jenny. Her number also showed up many times on Victor’s phone. I tracked her down using her cell number and then I went to your house to look for the drugs, but by the time I got there, it was too late. The door was wide open. There were obvious signs of a struggle.” Trigs eyes sadden.

“What are you saying?” I take another step back. A shiver runs up my spine.

Trig blows out a long breath of air.

“Someone shot Jenny, and took all of the money. That room was completely bare. Cash imprints remained on the carpet, but that’s it.”

My knees buckle. I steady myself against the car. For a second I feel like I might pass out.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“You knew, this whole time?” I turn and yell at him. Tears of anger well up in my eyes.

Trig looks down. I swear a minute passes before he looks up again, and by this time, my thoughts are totally unleashed. I see security pass by in a go-cart.

“I know this is really bad timing, but we have to go, Nine,” he says.

“No. You don’t just drop some shit like that and tell me we have to go. You can’t just tell me the only person I have ever fucking cared about is dead.” I grit my teeth.

“Jenny was hiding something from you.”

“Is that supposed to make the fact that her life was taken away, okay?” I cut my eyes at him.

“No. I’m just saying things may not have been what they seem.”

I’m seriously torn. Part of me wants to bash his face in with my high heel and the other part of me wants to collapse into his lap right here in the middle of this parking lot.

“You don’t know the truth,” I yell. “And now…I guess I won’t either.”

He nervously looks over his shoulder as a cop car passes by. He stares back to me.

“Baby, we have to go, now.”

I shake my head at him.

“I bet you just left her body there, didn’t you?”

Trig remains quiet. He licks his lips and takes his verbal thrashing.

“And you expect me to trust you. I bet you went in and probably climbed over her body to get to that room. Did you even stop to see if she was still alive? Did you?” I yell. “Finding those drugs was way more important to you. Well, let me tell you something. That girl was one in a million and she doesn’t deserve for her corpse to remain rotting away like it probably still is.” I pause to catch my breath. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

I pick up the heavy bags and march ahead of him.

“She had a bullet through her head, andyes,I still checked for a pulse,” Trig says from behind me.

I stop in my tracks, but don’t turn around. As soon as I can force myself to walk again I do so. I’m furious with Trig. He withheld Jenny’s death from me, and I find that unforgivable. I’m too hurt to think logically and too wound up to be rational. I imagine poor Jenny’s body lying there in a pool of blood. I’m walking hard and fast and I don’t even know how I’m doing it with these heavy bags and heels. My mind is bouncing between Trig, Jenny, Victor, and The Savior. I want blood. I want revenge. I finally understand the eye for an eye logic. I want the person who did this dead, and then I realize they probably already are. This had to be the work of The Savior. Now my thoughts race back to Trig and how pissed I am at him. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had told me earlier. It would have pained me just as much.

Once inside the airport. I dash toward the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” Trig shouts.

I barely manage to lift one bag high enough to toss up my middle finger at him. I’m angry at her death and at him for just now telling me. I’m about to get on a plane and leave. This feels wrong.

I enter the bathroom and rush to find the closest stall. I can barely lock the door behind me because my hands are shaking so badly. I drop the bags, sit down on the toilet, and let the floodgates open from my eyes. I’m sobbing uncontrollably to the point I can’t even see clearly anymore. I still can’t believe she’s dead. I was supposed to protect her. I failed. But what if Trig is right. What if she did something bad? What if she really did betray me? No. I won’t hear of it. This is all Victor’s fault. Every bit of it is. He killed Trig’s brother, he stole from The Savior, and he hurt me. Everything that has happened is because of him. I hope he rots in the bowels of hell. I hope his soul is tormented for eternity. My head falls into my hands. I’m crying so hard that my breathing is labored. I hate this life. I don’t want to feel the pain that it keeps serving me.

“Honey, are you okay?” I hear a female voice say.

I grab a piece of toilet paper and blow my nose. I grab another one and quickly wipe my eyes. I exit the stall to see an airport TSA worker washing her hands. She’s thin, tall, and twice my age.

“I’m fine,” I reply, as I try to clean up my face in the mirror.

“You don’t look fine at all,” she says.

I turn to her. I need to get some things off my chest or I’ll lose it.

“I’ve just lost the only person I have ever cared about and now I’m about to start a new life with a person I hardly know. One of them was keeping secrets and the other is withholding information.”

“Things will get better. I promise. I just left my husband for another man too,” she says.

I almost tell her that’s not what I meant, but I figure its best if she doesn’t know. I smile, wash my hands, and leave the restroom. When I come out, Trig is exchanging money for an envelope with a short, bald guy.

“Is this the one?” The bald guy points to me. I look to Trig who just nods. “The pretty ones are always trouble.”

The man smiles, walks away, and disappears into the crowd.

“What was that about?”

“Social security cards, birth certificates and passports.” Trig says.

He looks at me and I know he can see my red eyes and flushed skin. I quickly look down.

He hands me a passport.

“This is yours.”

I open it.

“Angelina Krackle. What in the hell type of name is that? I grab his passport and look at his name. “Mike Krackle. Oh great, we’re either married or related. What’s your real name, anyway?”

“Trigger Matthews.”

“Are you being serious?”

“Yes. My brother was named Hunter. Don’t ask me about the names. Can we go now?”

“This says you’re twenty-eight.”

“Yup.” He blows out air in frustration.

“Are you?”

“Yes, Nine. I am. Can we talk about this later, like when we land in a new country?”

I squint my eyes at him.

“Don’t worry about the names. You can always change it later.”

I continue to look down at my passport.

“My picture’s on here, but it looks Photoshopped. I take it he altered our pictures so that we can get through check-in. How did that guy even have time to do this?”

“I talked to him two days ago. I had him prepare them just in case. He hacked into a few sites and obtained our photos. I tossed your purse out shortly after.”

“So you knew you might be leaving town.”

“I figured it might come down to it.”

“And you just knew I would come with?”

“More like I hoped you would.”

I look out over the crowd of people. I spot a pay phone in the distance. I have to do it. I have to hear those messages from her. I know he won’t let me make the call once we leave here. I walk toward one. I can hear Trig calling my name behind me, but I ignore him. I put the bags down by my feet once I reach a booth. I dig in my pocket for a few quarters until I realize I have none. I ask a man standing by for a few. He smiles and hands me fifty cents. The man lingers over me, until Trig steps into his view, and then he turns and walks off. I insert the coins and punch in my cell number.

“Who are you calling?” he asks.

His hand is on my wrist. I scowl at him.

“My voicemail. Now remove your hand.”

He knows why I’m calling it. I have to hear her. I push my code in and listen. Jenny’s voice comes on and it’s like a shock to my ears.

“Nine, where are you? Call me back.”

“Nine, this is really starting to freak me out. I haven’t heard from you since last night.”

“If you don’t call me back in the next hour, I’m calling the police.”

There are several of these type of calls. I listen from beginning to end. It’s not until I get to the very last one that I feel like collapsing. I grab onto the booth. She’s crying the entire message.

“Jesus Christ. The news reports are saying that guy I set you up with is a pimp and drug dealer, and that he’s missing. I saw his face on the television. I wasn’t honest when I told you that he called me first. I actually met him at a coffee shop and we sat down and had a cup or two. He said he was a business owner. He told me he runs a rehabilitation home that helps get young women off the streets. He says most of them own their own companies now. I kind of told him your story and he was so moved to speak with you. God, Nine. I’m so sorry. I had no clue. I just wanted better for you. I wanted him to talk to you, and encourage you to start doing something else. Mr. V. and me talked over the phone a lot about helping you get out of this business. He said he would take care of it. I’m so scared. I just keep thinking that something bad has happened to you. Please forgive me. Call me, please. I know I never told you this, but I love you.”

I hang up the phone. My stomach is sick. Jenny set that appointment up to try to change my life. She wanted me to do something else besides sell my body. She saw potential in me. If Mr. V. had surveillance pictures of me, he probably was watching Jenny too. He manipulated her. He followed her into that coffee shop, I know it. I wipe my eyes, and close my mouth to avoid my lower jaw from trembling. I look to see Trig leaning up against the wall. I pick up my bags and walk toward him.

“She wasn’t working with Victor, just so you know.” I sniff to prevent my nose from running. I try to go on and tell him, but I can’t. Instead, I just cover my mouth.

He doesn’t say anything. He just stares forward.

“She was trying to help me.” I push out the words that are stuck in my mouth.

“I know you’re hurt. I lost someone too. I understand what it feels like,” he says.

“You could have fooled me,” I snap.

“Don’t think for one moment that just because I’m not sulking and crying, that I’m not in pain. I just lost Bones. I saw him lying there with a bullet in his head. Bones was to me what Jenny was to you. Who do you think picked me up after I did my first job? He did. Let me also remind you that my only brother was pumped full of bullets. So when I say that I hurt, I fucking mean it.”

I look at him. If he were in pain, you would never know it. He’s tough and holding it all in, which is something I used to do. Now I don’t give a shit. I’d cry myself dehydrated if I could just to make this horrible feeling go away. I wipe my eyes again. Trig pulls his back away from the wall.

“Are you good?” he asks.

I can see him checking his watch for the time, and just like that, he’s done talking about how he feels. He’s moving on, but I can’t. Not like that. Not when it comes to Jenny.

I glare at him.

“Depends on what you mean by good. Are you asking me if I can get through the airport without freaking out? Then yes, I guess I’m good. If you’re asking me if I’m emotionally okay with Jenny dying, and you not telling me until now, then no, I’m not. I’m about two seconds away from losing my shit when I think about her. The only thing that’s holding me together is the fact that I’m about to get away from all this drama and heartache. So, if you’re ready, maybe we can board a fucking plane and get out of here.” I breathe. “Unless you have some more terrible news to share with me. Maybe my favorite teacher from grade school died, and you haven’t told me about that either.” I sarcastically add.

Trig shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to see you hurt. It wasn’t my goal.”

“Too late,” I say.

Trig knows this conversation is going nowhere. He picks up his bags and walks toward the counter to a book a flight. I reluctantly follow. I keep my head down. I don’t want people to see that I’ve been crying.

“Hi. How can I help you today,” says the young woman behind the monitor.

“I need two one-way seats for your first available flight out to…”

Trig looks over to me.

“Fiji,” I say.

“Fiji,” he repeats.

“Is economy fine?” the woman asks, punching keys into her computer.

“Yes,” Trig responds.

“You are in luck. I have availability. The next flight takes off in forty-five minutes. You’ll have to get over to security screening now, if you want to make it in time.”

She then runs him a price and they exchange tickets and money. We scurry to security and wait in line.

“Tell me you did something with that gun?” I say in a hushed tone.

“I cleaned our prints off of it, and then I tossed it in a garbage can outside,” he whispers.

“How are we supposed to get through the checkpoint with all of this damn cash?” I whisper back.

“For one. Stop freaking out. You look suspicious.”

I look over at Trig who looks really uncomfortable.

“How’s your arm?”

“Hurts like a bitch,” he says.

“I can maybe carry another bag.

“I got it,” he replies, almost as if the offer was an insult.

It feels like forever when we finally reach the front of the line. I look up to see the woman from the bathroom checking bags. I start to panic. She waves us forward.

“Is this the new guy?” she asks, as she points to Trig. She gives him an ugly stare.

Trig looks confused. He looks at me for answers.

“Yup,” I say.

“Throw your bags up here, please.”

We toss all four bags up. She opens them one by one and peeks inside. Her eyebrows raise. She motions for me to come closer. Trig takes a step forward.

“Why do you have all of this money?”

Worry fills my eyes and I have no idea what to say.

“She cleaned out her husband’s checking account. He was banging the housekeeper. The asshole beats her too. Look at these marks.” Trig points to my face. “I’m taking her away from here.”

“What the–” I say.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” she whispers.

The TSA worker looks at me. She shakes her head in sympathy.

“Mine was doing our nanny. Go on, get out of here. Take it all and leave. I didn’t see a damn thing,” she says in a hushed tone.

She waves a metal detector over us and then points us toward the terminal. I release a sigh of relief as we pass her.

“Really? My husband beats me?” I repeat quietly.

“It worked. What are you complaining about?”

We make our way over to notice that our plane is boarding, so we line up. The line begins to move quickly, and before I know it, we are packing into the plane. We find our seats and settle in. Trig looks at me and then he pulls his wallet out. He hands me a picture from inside.

“I thought you might want this.”

I take it and unfold the picture. It’s of me and Jenny when we were about eighteen. I close it and hold it against my heart. I immediately look outside the window. I need a distraction to hold back these tears. I understand why Trig didn’t tell me, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt just as bad knowing that she isn’t here in this world anymore. I unfold it again and look down. My chest starts to heave, but I won’t let it. I place one hand over my mouth. I drop my head, close my eyes, and pray silently. I pray that her body is laid to rest and that wherever her spirit is that it looks after me. I can’t hold back anymore. I can feel my eyes watering up. I shoot up from my seat. Trig reaches out and grabs my hand. I look down at him.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says again, as if I didn’t hear him earlier.

I let the storm in my chest settle before I respond.

“I’m not mad at you, Trig. It’s exactly like you said to me before. I’m mad at the situation.”

I see a flight attendant coming our way. She’s smiling and perky and I hate it, because I know she’s having a wonderful day. You can see it on her face.

“Would you two like a cocktail?”

“I’ll take a beer, any kind is fine,” Trig replies.

“And for the lady?” she asks, smiling even bigger at me.

“I don’t give a shit what you serve me. Just keep the liquor coming, and bring me some damn pretzels. I’m starving.”

Trig squeezes my hand.

“I have to use the restroom. I’ll be back.” I say, moving around her.

“Sorry,” Trig says, apologizing for my behavior. “It’s been one of those days.”

I don’t even look at either of them. I pass through the aisle and make my way to the back of the plane. I go in and do my business and when I come out a familiar face greets me. It’s the face of one of my clients. I could just die.

“This is not happening,” I mumble.

“I thought that was you when you passed by,” he whispers.

I suddenly become nervous and uncomfortable. I’m supposed to be this new person, and here my past is traveling on the same flight as me. I can’t deal with this right now.

“I need to get back to my seat,” I say quietly.

“It’s just that my wife and kids are on board. I don’t want any issue,” he whispers again, as he leans into me.

“No. I would never say anything.”

“That is a relief,” he smiles.

I try to work my way around him. He blocks me.

“I was just wondering…” he looks over his shoulder. “How much for a hand job?”

“Excuse me?” I say offended.

“It’s just that with the kids around, I haven’t been able to get off in a while.”

I see Trig look back. His eyes grow dark and then he stands up.

“You need to go sit down now or bad things are going to happen,” I say, and try to push him away.

“Come on. I just need you to touch it,” he says in a hushed tone.

I see Trig approach us. He’s staring at the guy with murderous eyes.

“Do we have a problem here?” Trig says through his teeth.

“No. Just an old friend,” I say. “He was just about to go back to his seat.”

Trig looks at me and then back to the guy. He leans into my ear.

“Was this fucker a client of yours?”

I pat Trigs chest. “Don’t cause a scene, please.”

A flight attendant walks over. “I’m going to need you all to clear the aisle.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re just finishing up here. Give us a second,” I say.

I notice the man’s wife turn around and glare at us. Trig leans into the man’s face.

“I will take your dick, break it off, and shove it up your ass if you make any contact with her for the rest of the flight. I don’t even want to see you look at her. If I see even one sideways glance, I will rip your eyes clean out, put them in my beer, and then serve ‘em to you. Get the fuck out of here,” he whispers.

I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a quiet ass-whooping speech before. The man rushes back to his seat. Trig pushes me into the bathroom and locks the door.

“Who’s watching all that cash out there while you’re in here with me?” I say.

“Don’t worry about the cash. Nobody is making it off this flight with four bags of money without me knowing, especially when I tagged all of the bags as diarrhea medicine. No one is going to want to open up a bag that is clearly containing something to soothe my asshole.”

“That’s disturbing,” I say.

“No. That dickhead with his all-American family sitting out there while he pushes up on you is disturbing.

“I can’t get away from my past. It’s always going to follow me,” I say.

“That little bitch out there is nothing.”

“He asked for a hand job.”

Trig goes for the door like he’s going to go after the guy. I grab his arm.

“When he asked me, I was offended. I’ve never been offended before.”

Trig stares at me. “Nine, you’re supposed to be offended.”

“Dainty ladies are supposed to be, not escorts.”

“You’re not an escort any more than I’m a killer,” Trig says. “We can be whatever we want now.”

“Sure. I’ll just apply for a teaching job once we land in Fiji.”

“You can do anything. You can be whatever the hell you want. You’re Mrs. Krackle now.”

“Whatever I want? That is a lie and you know it,” I snap

I’m out of breath and my hands are shaking before I even realize it. I’ve been through way too much stuff this week, let alone in my entire life and I don’t know if I can go back out there, sit down in my seat and pretend like all is well.

“Look at me. Everything is going to be fine.”

He places my hand on his heart and his hand on my chest. I remember how this calmed me down at the cabin, so I look into his eyes. My breathing synchronizes up with his. My heart slows down, and my body relaxes. He slowly nods once, and I nod back to let him know I’m okay.

We hear tapping at the door. Trig opens it and we both exit. An older woman standing there gives us a dirty look. We walk back to our seats, and with luck, no one has taken our four bags of cash. I bend down and look at the tags on the bag. He really did write diarrhea medicine on them. As if someone would really need four duffel bags of that. I glance over at him.

“See? I told you. Totally safe.”

We settle back into the seats for a long flight, one in which I plan to consume several glasses of wine. The flight attendant has already brought me my first round. I slam it back and wave her over for another. Time passes and soon enough my glass has emptied three times. I feel the alcohol kick in. Trig and me start discussing Fiji and how he watched this documentary and it looked unbelievable. I tell him it’s a place I’ve always wanted to go to. We both start to become somewhat excited about landing, and suddenly my mind is busy. I notice that I don’t feel pain when my mind is going. It’s when my brain slows down that I’m at my worst. For the next several hours, I’ll only cry alone in the bathroom every time I take that picture out of my pocket. I’ll shed tears and teeter on the edge of a breakdown when I see her smiling face looking back at me, because this is all that I have left of her. It’s all that remains. Just two girls in one tiny photo. We look happy in it. That was us at our best. It was the day that we moved into our house. It was the best day of our lives. When I look at this picture I’ll remember every storm we weathered, and as hard as it is, I’ll force myself to exist. I’ll seek strength in her smile when I feel weak. It’s crucial I push myself to keep going, because that’s who I am. A fighter. A survivor. And Jenny, she wouldn’t have let me give up.

***

Eleven hours later, we finally arrive in Fiji at the Nadi airport. We quickly make our way through the crowds of people. These bags feel heavier than before, and it’s probably because we’re both exhausted from the long flight. The liquor in my system has faded and now I’m left with an empty feeling. I haven’t said a word for hours. Trig stops and looks around.

“We need a cab, but I’ll have to exchange some money for Fiji currency to pay for things here.” He points to a row of seats. “I know you’re tired. Take a seat.”

I do just that. I plop down and watch Trig at the counter. The girl behind the desk helping him is smiling at him, and batting her eyelashes. I feel something unfamiliar inside. I feel anger, watching her flirt. I know that look she’s giving him, and I don’t like it. Damn it. I’m jealous. This isn’t me. I don’t get jealous, so I turn and look the other way. It only takes two seconds for me to whip my head back to look at the both of them. Now he’s laughing, and she’s laughing, and I hate watching this interaction. She flips her hair to the side and leans over the counter, exposing her cleavage to him. I’m not sitting here while he’s over there chatting it up with Beyoncé. I lug my two bags over and drop them loudly on the floor next to Trig.

“Something funny?” I say.

My tone is cold and dry, and my looks could definitely kill. Trig looks at me. He’s still smiling.

“She was just correcting me on my use of certain words here.”

I look at little Miss Beyoncé who is even more beautiful up close. She raises a challenging eyebrow at me as she hands Trig money.

“Isn’t your job to exchange currency?” I ask.

“Yes,” she replies with attitude.

“Then stop throwing yourself at men, and do your damn job, bitch.”

“Excuse me?” she says with disgust.

“You heard me.”

Trig puts his hand over my mouth and grabs the money from her.

“Thank you,” he says.

He pushes me forward and then picks up his two bags. I walk ahead of him mad, and I’m not even sure why. We locate a taxi outside and hop in.

“Is there a nice hotel close by?” Trig asks the driver.

“Royal Hotel. It’s beautiful. You’ll love it.”

“Great. Take us there.”

I sit in the cab, staring forward with my arms folded.

“Nine,” Trig says. I ignore him. “Nine,” He repeats again.

I turn my head and stare at him.

“What was that back there?”

I shake my head. I’m a little embarrassed at my actions. I really don’t even know why I did that. It’s so unlike me. I’m at a loss for words.

“I don’t know,” I say.

“Are you jealous, Nine?” He smirks.

“Of Beyoncé back there? No.”

He laughs hard and holds his chest.

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” I frown, and scoot away from him.

“Come here.” He pulls me close to him against my will. I’m pulling my face as far away as possible, and yet he has now managed to squish me into his chest.

“I didn’t come to Fiji with you to pick up on other girls.”

“No, you came here to escape. Now that you’re free, you can be whom you want to be, and do what you want to do. Your new life doesn’t have to include me.”

I push away from him. Trig just turns and smiles out the window.

“What?” I say.

“I think you’re cute when you’re jealous. Your face gets all scrunched up, and your eyes become squinty. You look like a pissed off squirrel.”

“Oh my god. Did you just say that?”

Trig laughs again. “Stop. We’re in beautiful Fiji, and I’m sitting in a taxi with a beautiful woman on the way to a beautiful hotel. Can we just enjoy this for a while?”

Of course, I can’t count on a hitman to have sympathy. I’m still grieving and he’s acting like nothing happened. I stay quiet until we pull up at the hotel. It’s actual quite breathtaking. We go inside in hopes of reserving a room.

“I’d like a room, please,” Trig says to the hotel clerk.

“One bed or two?”

“One,” Trig says

“Two,” I correct him.

The woman looks back and forth at us.

“One,” Trig repeats, and smiles at the woman.

He looks back at me. I squint my eyes at him. The clerk reads off some prices and then she asks him for a credit card.

“I lost my card, but I have cash and I’d like to pre-pay for the room for a month, maybe more.” The girl hesitates. “There is a hundred dollar tip in it for you if you book this room, right now.”

“I’ll need you to fill this out and I’ll need to see your I.D.”

“Deal,” Trig winks at her.

The girl smiles as she waits. He slides her the paperwork, and then she starts typing into the computer. She pulls out two cards and gives them to, Trig. Trig then takes a chunk of money out, counts it, and slides it to her.

“Your room is on the bottom floor, straight down the hall on your right.”

We walk through the center of the hotel and pass the elevators. I see our room number. Trig opens the door and we both step in.

“Damn this is nice,” he says.

I stroll around, examining the room and opening closets. I then walk over to the window, which faces the pool. I can see the ocean not too far off in the distance. It’s beautiful. I look around at the courtyard to spot several groups of happy people standing around, drinks in hand, and I can’t stand it. I’m depressed, and as bad as it is, I want them to share in my misery. No one knows the pain in my heart except Trig.

“I’m going to take a shower and doctor up this wound. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Oh, you’re not worried that I might sneak off when you’re occupied in the bathroom.”

“I don’t want you to go, but I don’t want to keep you against your will either. We’re safe here. You can make the choice to stay with me or to walk away. I’ll leave you to make that decision.”

He walks toward the bathroom. I hear him turn on the water and then he closes the door. I slip out of my heels and sit down on the edge of the bed. I could just grab a bag of money and dip out, but where would I go? Do I even want to leave? If I left right now, I’d leave him, and that would mean that he’s risked it all for nothing. I fall back against the bed.

That day at the cabin flashes through my head. I remember his lips on my skin and his eyes staring through me. I remember yelling out ‘I love you’ to him, and the way his hand sat over my heart. Trig is my oxygen. He gives me air when I feel like I’m drowning. I suddenly sit up and exhale.

It hits me that we don’t have any clothes to change into. I spring up from the bed and walk over to the bathroom door. I knock.

“Do you need some new clothes?”

“What?” he yells.

“Do you need some new clothes?” I yell louder.

“I can’t hear you,” he shouts.

“I’m coming in,” I say.

The bathroom is semi-foggy, and Trig is standing inside a glass shower. I turn around.

“Do you need new clothes? I could try to find a store around here,” I shout.

“I still can’t hear you,” he says.

He opens the shower door. I swing around at the noise. He fingers for me to walk closer. Trig is ass naked, with water dripping down his toned body. I’m now gawking at him. I walk closer.

“What did you say?”

“I um…thought you could use some new clothes. I could go shopping.” I point to the door.

He reaches his hand out and slowly pulls me into the shower. I hesitate for a moment but with him looking so damn good, I’m now fighting the desires of the flesh, and I’m losing.

“I don’t need clothes for what I’m about to do,” he says.

He backs me up against the stream of water. My entire outfit and hair are wet now.

“Is that right?” I ask.

“I see you’re still here.”

“I couldn’t make up my mind,” I lie.

“That’s interesting. Well, in that case, I’d like to help you make a final decision.”

He strips off my vest, and tank top, and then he unbuttons my shorts.

“There’s just one problem. I don’t have any condoms,” he says, as his hands find their way to the brim of my panties.

“That’s gonna be a problem,” I reply, as his face comes close to mine.

“I want you,” he moans against my neck.

His lips rush to taste my skin and it feels good. I slide my hand down and wrap it around his cock. I turn my head to the side, away from the water, and then I notice his injured arm. A deep red hole marks his skin. I can see small fragments of flesh. I release my hand from him.

“Does that still hurt badly?

“My arm? It’s really sore. Especially from having to carry one of those bags on that side.”

He pulls back, and looks at me.

“Maybe you should rest up,” I say.

“I already told you what I want, and it’s not rest.”

His fingertips follow the water droplets down my skin from my neck to my stomach. He lowers his hand down into my panties. I hold my breath for a second as the sensation jolts me. I’m scared to do this again. An escort scared of sex. How ironic is that? It’s not just the sex. It’s him. It’s what he does to me, and how he makes me feel. I become totally submissive under his touch, and I lose control. I begin to feel things that are not permitted, but I need these things to breathe.

“It’s hard to tell in all this water, but if you’re as wet as I think you are, then it’s safe to say you want this.”

He takes my hand and places it on his chest. I can see him reading my body language.

“You don’t have to be scared of me. We both need an escape from all of that pain.”

His hands search my body. I close my eyes and tilt my head back. The water runs down my face.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Nine. I wanna feel you on the inside.”

I’m breathless, and the more he keeps talking, the more I just want to sit on his face. I bring my head up and place my lips on his chest. I run my tongue from his chest tattoos up to his neck tattoo. This boy makes me want to fuck him ten ways to Friday. I wish he’d just put it in me already.

“I’m clean. I get tested a lot,” I blurt out.

“Are you saying what I think you are?”

“You could maybe…” I can’t even bring myself to say it.

“Pull out?” he questions.

“Yeah.”

Wait! Where did that come from? Did I just give him the okay to enter me bareback? Yup. I did. I’m just so uncontrollably horny that common sense has taken a backseat until further notice. I can’t believe I’m okay with this. He pulls my shorts and panties down. Finally, I come to my senses again. I yank on his good arm. He looks up.

“I never let my clients go raw, ever.”

“I’m not your client,” he says.

“That’s not what I meant. I just—”

He pushes me against the glass and bites my lip. His hands are all over me and I’m all over him.

I stop and push him back. He looks at me.

“I can’t do this,” I say.

“You can’t, or you don’t want to?”

“I want to. It’s just not a good idea to do this with you.”

Trig steps back and looks at me weird.

“This is embarrassing for me. It really is, but if I don’t say something or do something about it, I think I might go crazy.”

Trig crosses his arms and waits. I can’t believe I’m about to say this.

“I feel things for you. Strong things, like deep down in my gut type things. I spent so many years fucking men for money. No strings. No attachments. I was walking around like a zombie, just numb. You show up and all of a sudden, I’m drowning in feelings. I’m cuddling you, kissing you and having orgasms, and shouting out shit that doesn’t even make any sense, given our relationship. It’s been like what? A week? Things like this are not supposed to happen.”

Trig’s face hasn’t even moved. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t blinked either.

“Today I got jealous because a girl was talking to you, and now I’m all ready for you to hit it raw. I don’t know what a normal relationship is, but this can’t be it. This thing we have is twisted. It ain’t right, Trig.”

“Who says?”

“Me.”

“I like you, Nine.” He steps forward. “And if that’s twisted then call me a sick fuck,”

He’s got me backed against the glass again.

“What are we? This thing we do, what is it?”

He gently places his hand over my heart.

“Do you want to put a label on it? Would that make you feel better? Maybe then you could stop making client references toward me.”

“I can’t leave it stagnant. I need to process or delete these thoughts. What. Are. We?” I repeat again.

Trig cocks his head back. He’s calm and collected.

“Do you plan on fucking anybody else while you’re here with me?” he asks.

His hands drop to my waist. I don’t even need to think about it.

“No.”

“Why not?” he questions.

“Because...I’m with you,” I finally say.

He nods. “You’re with me. Listen to what you just said.” He bends down and gives me a kiss. “Baby, you’re mine.”

I don’t exactly know what that means, but it sounds good to my ears. I fire back at him.

“And you? Do you plan on fucking any other girls while you’re here with me?”

He shakes his head.

“Why not?” I ask.

“Because…I’m with you,” he says, exactly the way I said it.

He kisses me again.

“And what does that mean?” Trig asks.

I grin, and let my head fall back against the glass, as he lifts one of my legs up.

“I’m not saying it.”

“Come on. I know you want to.”

I moan as he kisses my neck.

“I won’t say it.”

“What does it mean if I’m not fucking any other girls, Nine. You’re it. Process that info now.” He groans against my ear.

I gasp as he grips my hips.

“Baby, you’re mine,” I say.

“Then show me that you want me,” Trig responds. He backs up and grabs his cock. I drop to my knees.