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It’s as if I’m in the confession box and I can’t see the priest. It’s strangely liberating and so I take a deep breath and whisper, “She was older than me. At least five years. She was beautiful. Everybody thought so and I was in awe of her.”
My tears fall as I remember how proud of her I was.
“She wasn’t just beautiful on the outside, but inside, too. The trouble is, she couldn’t hide it and she began to attract attention.” I whisper, “Unwanted attention.”
Now the door is open, the ghosts come flooding out and I say almost to myself, “My mom is hooked-up with a guy who made our flesh creep. Mickey Gruber is his name. He is rough, cold, and dirty.”
I shake my head as if he can see it. “Not dirty in body, but in mind. He made comments about us, Reggie mainly. He was inappropriate and touched her in full view of our mom.”
I snort derisively. “She was so under his spell, she blamed Reggie for flaunting herself at him.”
I sigh heavily. “It went on for months and then one night I heard screaming. Mom was out, and I thought an intruder had broken in and I was scared. It was coming from Reggie’s room, and I sprinted down the hallway and peered through the crack in the door. Mickey was hurting her. He was lying on top of her, and her head was hitting the wall. She was crying, and he was groaning. I wanted to help her but then she saw me and stopped screaming. She smiled and shook her head and nodded in the direction of my room. She wanted me to go. She was happy, and I was interrupting her.”
I was so confused and headed back to my room and the next day she made me promise to keep quiet about it. They were just having fun and not to say a word. It would be alright, and she would always be here for me.”
Mikhail’s hand slips into mine, and I’m grateful for the contact. He says nothing, but that one gesture means a lot more than any unnecessary words.
“Everything changed after that night. Reggie began to go out more. She was dressed in fine clothes and made up like a movie star. Fancy cars would come and collect her and drop her off in the morning. Mickey was happy and so was mom.
They were happy times, happier than most and yet I heard Reggie crying into her pillow when she slept during the day. I was at college, but I heard her when I returned home, and she didn’t know I was there. My beautiful sister lost her soul and was dying before my eyes and yet outwardly she appeared happy as she lived her best life.”
I break off, the memories too painful, and I whisper, “Please don’t make me talk about it. The weeks after she spent the night with Carter Lamont. I can’t, it’s too painful.”
To my surprise, he pulls me into his arms and whispers, “No more. I get the picture.”
I sag against his chest and the tears spill like the river of damnation down his chest as for the first time in my life since my dad died, I feel protected.
Darkness wraps around us like a sleeping mask, and I fall asleep in Mikhail’s arms. It’s as if my problems have offloaded onto him, which is curious. I haven’t even unburdened the darkest part of my soul, and yet the small piece that has shifted has allowed my soul a moment’s breath and I’m grateful for the ease of pressure and drift to sleep with an inner peace I wasn’t expecting.
When I wake, I am in the exact same position and rather than be repelled by that, I’m relieved. He is still holding me tightly and yet I can tell he’s still awake. His hold is too firm for that, and I whisper against his chest. “Don’t you ever sleep?”
He chuckles softly. “Not if I can help it.”
I’m curious about him. He appears so cold, distant even, and yet somewhere inside is a decent heart beating. Last night could have panned out so differently and yet he held back. Was it my confession? Is he now repelled by my lack of experience? Whatever his reasons are, I’m grateful for them. I don’t want to be used. Not in that way, even by a man like him. Especially by a man like him. He expects it. It’s what he demands, and yet how can I ever let a man like that anywhere near me? Not after what happened to Reggie. Not after what happened to me.
He surprises me by nestling his face in my hair and tightening his hold, and then he pulls back and sighs heavily.
“The day is calling. We need to shower and grab some breakfast.”
I am seriously hoping that doesn’t mean another visit to Katerina and say nervously, “Shower?”
He slides his hand down my back and a shiver of pleasure wafts through my body like a summer breeze.
“Of course. Come with me.”
My heart sinks and I say with a nervous edge to my voice, “Does this involve Katerina?”
“Does what?”
He sounds confused and I stutter, “I, I, mean, she’s very nice and all that, in a cold ice queen sort of way, but she’s a little fierce if I’m honest and a touch invasive.”
“Invasive?” He pulls back and stares at me with concern and I blush. “I mean, I’m not used to anyone seeing me naked. Especially another woman and I can’t help feeling she is judging me. Plus, it was embarrassing having someone dress me and do my make-up and stuff. Quite degrading, really.”
He raises his eyes. “You didn’t like it?”
“I’m sorry. No. It’s just, well, I don’t like to be touched.”
I blush because he is currently holding me in his arms and has been for some time now, and only the silk lingerie is maintaining what’s left of my dignity.
