Page 101 of Volatile Waters

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

More than One Life

Magical moments are few and far between amongst the abundance of darker ones. Unseen clouds brewed around Whitney and me as we shared a night which we would treasure yet never have again. I can’t say how one tender kiss to my cheek developed into passion because it was too magical for someone like me to comprehend, but magical it was. There were no whips, no chains, and no forced acts or releases, only two lost souls finding comfort and peace in the physical touch that reached us both far beneath our skin.

Before the final storm was to erupt, Whitney had a piece of me to carry with her, to remind her of the time she brought a human trafficker to his knees. She effortlessly brought out the tiniest kindness I possessed, and she gave it the courage to grow. I held her and kissed her as if she was my last breath of fresh air—air I never wanted to exhale because then it would be forever gone.

In my arms, she slept. And, when she called out for Link, I cried. Fire had never been mine, and Whitney never would be. She would always truly belong to the young man waiting for her to come home. Wiping my tears, I chuckled, knowing Crash had been smarter than me all along. He saw the impenetrable love between Whitney and Reether and wasn’t stupid enough to try to stand in its way. Kissing her forehead again, I decided I would no longer try, either. I whispered, “If I am capable of love… I love you.”

I slipped from her sleeping embrace, already missing her touch. With my cellphone in hand, I went into the bathroom and shut the door. I pressed my back to the outer wall of the shower and wiped my wet face, then tapped on my phone’s screen.

When Mr. Jones answered, I spoke to not be overheard, “I am not asking for money for her return.”

I heard his sharp inhale. His voice was barely audible. “She’s still alive?”

Up to this point, I had refused all of his calls. It had been months since he had heard from me. “She is.”

His exhale trembled over the receiver. “My son loves her.”

Even though it hurt, my heart knew this was the right thing to do. I wiped the wetness from my face. “I know, and she loves him.”

“Yury, will she ever be the same?”

My eyes slid shut as I rested my head against the wall holding me up. “None of us will.”

“Timothy was right. She is a treasure, isn’t she?”

It wasn’t a question, so there was no need to answer. “I will meet you at a disclosed location if you are willing to give me the coordinates to where you buried him.” Crash’s body was hidden where no one would find him. I suspected it was in the woods beside the neighborhood Mr. Jones resided in but had no time to search all the untouched land. “I am not willing to leave a trail that can ever lead back to her.”

Silence… “My wife. She—”

“Needs her living son to survive, which he won’t, not without Whitney. I highly recommend you take this one-time offer. I will not be this generous the next time we talk. I don’t want to let her go.”

“I understand, and thank you for the offer. I accept your conditions.”

“I need time to get her out safely.”

“I am at your beck and call. Anything I can do to help?”

“Pick a meeting place. Not Russia. I need her far from here.”

I can’t be sure, but I believe a sob escaped him before he chose. “I once told her that Hawaii is a beautiful place to get your thoughts together.”

That she will need. “Then we have a place.”

Mr. Jones was quiet then said, “I don’t know what happened to get you to this point, but you are saving more than one life with this decision.”

My throat closed with overwhelming emotions, so I didn’t reply, nor did I stay on the phone.

Bringing down my father and uncle’s growing empire didn’t seem feasible, so I wasn’t even going to try. I was only going to rescue those I could. By now, there were not many slaves present because Uncle had requested deliveries be made to his new location, to get the inventory stocked for new customers. High-quality Elites were being collected to impress and steal rich costumers from Father and Uncle’s past employer. It was a daring move, since we were lucky to have gotten away with it once—

I thought That’s it! when remembering the night my mother was murdered and what was written on the warning letter attached to her skin.

My business is my business. Yours is now yours.

Get in my way again and I will steal your whores.

Father and Uncle had surpassed their original goal and were now broadening their reach further. I classified that as ‘getting in the way.’ I alone could not stop my father and uncle, so I would let their competitor do it for me.