Page 44 of Enraptured

CHRISTOS

SHE’S SO PEACEFUL WHEN she sleeps. I’ve accomplished everything I wanted. She’s utterly and completely mine. I was ruthless in my pursuit of her; ensuring the inevitable outcome. My fingers rub the inside of her wrist. She still doesn’t know about the tracker. I’ve been keeping secrets. Afterall, I’ve had a lifetime of faking my emotions. Now I mask the guilt at what I’ve done. Not just to her, but to the other men and woman whose lives I’ve ruined. Whose families I’ve torn apart.

I’ve stolen everything from this golden angel. Stripped away her chance at coming into her own, clipped her wings as she just started to fly. I have what I want. But the cost eats away at me.

Unable to sleep, I gently ease out of the bed and get dressed. Reaching behind the vase perched on the mantle, I pick up the key that will enable me to lock her in. I’m not afraid she’ll run but of any lingering guests roaming the halls this late. I’m not taking any chances that the types of guests at these functions could get into our room.

I descend the stairs, in search of a stiff drink and a cigar. All the holiday lights are still on. Garland twines around columns, lines every mantle. I never understood holidays, never felt “cheer.” I feel it now through her; loathing myself for the bright future I stole from her.

Fuck, it was easier to be the devil when you had no sense of remorse, no guilt, no self-hatred following your every move.

I’ve kept these feelings from her. She needs me to have everything back. But neither of us could know finding my heart could also be our end. I can’t keep her now. Her love isn’t real. It was coerced. Forced. I’m certain now she has Stockholm syndrome and there’s nothing I can do to make it right. Because I love her completely, I think I know what the only answer can be—but can’t bring myself to get there.

“Why aren’t you in bed, balls deep in your pet?”

“She’s not my pet. Not anymore.”

“Oh?”

Alex gets off the settee where he was lounging with his shirt undone. “Where’s your wife?”

“Eating pussy in the candy room.”

“Theos.”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t bother me. I need a smoke.”

I find a wet bar fixing myself a scotch, neat. Alex waits for me, then proceeds to open the French doors.

“Fuck it’s cold. My bloody balls are going to freeze and fall off. What’s eating you, old friend? Something’s off,” he gestures flamboyantly as he stares at me.

I tip my drink back staring up at the night sky. “Do you see that? Over about ten o’clock? That’s Arcturus. It’s the brightest star in the northern half of the Earth’s sky.”

“Are you wasted mate?”

“No. Just utterly and royally fucked.”

“What did you do now?”

“What haven’t I done?” I shrug. “I faked her death. Convinced the authorities in Italy that she fell overboard off the Oasis.”

“The fuck you say?”

“I implanted a tracking device in her wrist that she still doesn’t know about.”

He flicks his ash, takes a long drag then snuffs his cigarette out. “Come on. This is going to require the bottle of one-hundred-year-old scotch I’ve been saving since I found it in the wine cellar.”

He leads me inside to his private study, opens a cabinet and gets his prized bottle pouring two full glasses. “Now, spill like a girl. I want details, don’t leave anything out.” Helena joins us, half-way into the story, making me start again. Alex told her everything that happened on the Oasis earlier. He shares everything with his new wife. I recant everything starting from the instant Jin found her to the thorough fucking I gave her in their dungeon.

They both stare into the fire blazing in the hearth as I finish. “Christ. You make our relationship look good.” He rubs Helena’s feet resting in his lap.

“I don’t know what to do.” I get up to pace. “I did what I had to in order to have her. But never figured I’d actually have to face myself for what I did to achieve that. I can’t live like this anymore.”

“Tell her.”

“How? What? I’m sorry. I detonated a bomb that blew up your life and I can’t deal with the fallout? Or how about the classic… it’s not you—it’s me?”

“Or you could just remove the tracker, give her freedom with no strings and see if the bird leaves her opened cage.” Alex remarks.

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