“How did you? I don’t understand.”
“Are you still afraid?”
“No,” I said in a calm voice. “But I am confused.”
“Hypnotherapy and brainwashing can work hand in hand but it’s imperative that the brainwashing take place before the hypnotherapy. Otherwise, it won’t last… you have to be open to suggestion and a strong mind is never open enough to suggestion or replacement of memories unless a severe trauma has taken place. The minute you left your dad’s whorehouse, you were beat within an inch of your life, starved for a week straight, only given enough water to survive, and when you ceased to remember your own name, when you cried out for death, they brought you to me. I’m always in white.” He shook his head bitterness twisting his lips into a non-smile. “Like an avenging angel… Your father has always been dramatic, the idea has always been so simple… take them from the depths of hell, give them heaven and offer them peace, and then, go through the stages of hypnotherapy. Did you know—” He laughed without humor. “—that ninety percent of people will agree with most statements if you repeat them more than three times? You have to be confident, convincing, but that’s without brainwashing, imagine what could happen if you were weakened physically?”
“But…” I pressed my fingers to my head. “I remember the accident.”
“I showed you pictures.” He sighed. “Of your wrecked car, and I did…”He swallowed. “Inflict some pain, I made the cuts on your arm because regardless of your mental state, I needed to show you I was in control and usually the only way to do that is through some sort of pain, it can be minor, I’m sorry yours wasn’t.”
It was too much to process. Almost.
“How did you get me back?” I whispered. “Why am I with you now?”
“Because I lied and told your father that the Italians knew where the rest of his whorehouses were… he believed me because ever since he attacked one of their own a few months ago, some key pieces of information have been missing. I asked for you… and told him I would take care of the Italians in return.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No… and there were... terms. He said I could have you for a year but that if I touched you and triggered one of the real memories of seeing him in the whorehouse with the girls… he’d kill both of us, so…” He stood and spread his arms wide. “I re-created a nearly identical room to the one you were held in, even kept masks nearby.” He walked over to the dresser then with a cry tossed it onto its side and slumped to the floor.
He was losing his mind.
Or maybe just allowing me to see he wasn’t as in control as I’d always thought.
Slowly, I slid out of bed and joined him on the floor.
“You should go,” he whispered.
“And where would I go? To my father’s house? The same one who tortured me for a week? No thanks, I think I’ll take my chance with the person who tried to save me.”
My body trembled all over again at the thought. He might not be my flesh and blood but he was still a father, he was supposed to protect me, not break me and scatter the ashes while laughing.
Warm tears streamed down my face.
Nikolai pulled me against him, wrapping a muscled arm around my body as I continued to sob quietly against his chest.
“I didn’t.” Nikolai cursed under his breath. “I didn’t save you. I made it worse, so much worse. Saving you, would have been trying to get you out of the building, saving you, would be handing you over the Italians and faking your death, saving you—” He turned to cup my face, his eyes filled with tears. “—would be letting you go, rather than keeping you for myself.”
“What if I want to be kept?”
“You realize,” he said, then swallowed slowly, his mouth inches from mine. “That you say you want to be kept by the very monster that made you believe you were in a car accident, by the same person who took advantage of a sixteen year old girl because he couldn’t help himself.”
“You kissed me, hardly a crime.”
“I didn’t just kiss you. I desired you. I wanted you, from the minute I saw you with your father that year, and it disgusted me that I was so much older yet was drawn to someone so young, so bright. You wore your emotions on the outside, while I’d been taught emotions were frivolous wicked things that would get me nowhere in life.”
“And yet the beast somehow still managed to turn into a prince.”
“I’m not your prince.”
“You’re right.” I nodded. “I think the beast is hotter anyways.”
He cracked a smile. “You should be sleeping, running, possibly screaming and pulling a gun on me.”
“But I remember,” I whispered kissing his mouth. “I remember you telling me to work hard in school… I remember you telling me how special I was… I remember everything…”
“I can make you forget again, it could be dangerous, and I’d have to disappear from your—”
I kissed his mouth hard, pulling him into my arms, our tongues tangled in a wild frenzy.
We broke apart.
“I had your picture in my room,” I blurted.
His eyebrows drew together in shock. “You what?”
“In my room. You know how some people have pictures of bands or move stars? I had pictures of you… you’d always been my idol, maybe that’s why I was so crazy to meet you, or maybe—”
“—maybe you just wanted to come home.”
“You’re my home,” I whispered tugging at his shirt.
“God, I’ve waited years to hear you say that.” His lips found mine again, and then he was tearing at my clothes, ripping them from my body as he laid me back against the cold slate floor. I didn’t care, I needed him, wanted him, with such desperateness it was hard to breathe.
Clothes flew over his head and then his warm body was pressing against mine, our mouths fused as he thrust into me without warning.
My head fell back, brushing the slate as he made love to me.
The piece that had always been missing, finally, with a resounding click, locked into place.
Ask a lot but take what is offered. –Russian Proverb
I BRUSHED HER DARK HAIR AWAY from her face and kissed her soft cheek, my lips sliding down to her mouth. I craved more of her with every breath I took.
“Nik?” She’d been calling me that since we made love on the floor, and this time, when she referred to me the way I’d originally instructed her to so long ago, I was okay with it, knowing she wasn’t reverting back to some altered state of consciousness but completely aware that it was my nickname crossing her lips.
“Yes?”
“Tell me about the clinic.”
I sighed, as the last bit of heaviness washed over me. It was my burden to carry not hers, and telling her only added stress to what she was already dealing with. “I study the girls, the ones given to me by your father, and when they can no longer work because of sickness, disease…” my voice trailed off.
“Nik?”
“Yeah?”
“You don’t have to tell me the rest.”
I relaxed, as if my body made a giant sigh against hers. “Maya?”
“Yeah.”
“When you were under… I asked you about the addresses, do you remember?”
It was her turn to tense, and then turn around in my arms a frown marred her pretty face. “It was on the Pier, and I recognized Everett, but I don’t remember the address, just thinking about it makes my head hurt.”
“Sorry.” I kissed her forehead.
“Why is it important?”
Burdens, so many burdens I was sharing, I hated myself for it, but maybe it was time to extend the weight and trust the other person wouldn’t let it slip through their fingers. “You’ll never be safe, as long as those houses exist. I want to destroy them… if they’re gone, then I’m hoping you won’t be as big of a threat to your father as he thinks… right now, if he saw you on the street, he’d recognize the fear, even if you tried to hide it. You’d flinch, you’d back away into another person walking in the other direction, you’d gasp, your eyes would widen, there are any number of physical responses you would have. And he would know, and he would either kill you, or capture you, then do it right in front of me to make an example. The only way to be free is to eliminate the threat, and right now, those two houses existing, making him a shit load of money…” I looked away.