Page 11 of Rockstar Untamed
Tim was yawning now, and even though he was a whole ten years old and a big boy, he crawled onto Sailor’s lap, snuggled into her, and fell asleep. Sailor, who was barely bigger than Tim herself, locked her arms around the boy, shooting a glance over to Bodhi, hoping his feelings wouldn’t be hurt. Bodhi smiled at her, his eyes soft, and she saw no reproach in his look. Instead, their gazes locked for a long moment, before Tim murmured, fidgeting in his sleep, and broke the spell. Bodhi grinned, then got up to go to the bathroom. Sailor kissed the top of Tim’s dark head and fantasized that, yes, this was her family now.
It was the early hours of the morning before they reached the villa on the island and Bodhi carried his sleeping son to a bedroom off the main living area. Sailor went over to the huge glass sliding door on the opposite wall and slid it open. It led down to a small beach and Sailor could hear the ocean gracing the shoreline.
“Beautiful.” She sighed, happily.
“I agree,” she heard Bodhi and turned around, blushing when she realized he was looking at her, and not the ocean. He came to stand beside her, putting his hand on her back. “Are you tired?”
She nodded. Bodhi stroked her hair back from her face. “The staff has made up all the beds, and there’s air conditioning, thank god. Do you want a drink before bed?”
Sailor smiled. “Okay.”
Bodhi grabbed a bottle of scotch and two glasses then nodded out of the door. “Let’s sit by the ocean; we can hear if Tim starts yelling.”
The moon was full, so they had plenty of light as they sat side-by-side, drinking their scotch. Sailor made a face at first, but Bodhi just laughed. “Keep sipping, it’ll be your friend soon enough.”
Sure Sure-enough, she began to enjoy the warm burn of the liquid in her throat. She chuckled a little.
“What?” Bodhi was studying her, a smile on his face.
Sailor shook her head. “If you only knew how much my life has changed in just one week, Bodhi. Hell, in six months.”
“Then tell me,” he said gently. Sailor chewed on her lip for a while before answering.
“You were nearer the mark with Jim Jones,” she began, not able to look at Bodhi. “The commune, hell, no, it’s a cult, I have to start calling it that. The leader is a man called Bartholomew Foy. Yeah,” she said, grinning at Bodhi’s face, “That’s his real name as far as I know. But then again, I don’t know if I believe anything about the man except one thing.”
“What’s that?”
Sailor felt sadness swim through her as she recalled the photos of her beloved Tilly being so brutally murdered. “He’s a monster…” She whispered, her voice breaking. “and he chose me to be his next, bride. When I reached my womanhood.”
“Your womanhood?”
She gave him a strange smile. “In the cult, women aren’t permitted to have sexual relations until their twenty-fifth birthday. That’s what it means. And when I reached mine, Bart was determined that I would be his. I disagreed and that’s why I left.”
A clearly horrified Bodhi put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “You don’t ever have to be afraid of him again, Sailor. I promise you that.”
She smiled gratefully up at him, and again, their gazes locked. This time she didn’t look away. Bodhi moved closer, but stopped himself. “I think we need to get some sleep,” he said lightly, and Sailor was at once both disappointed and relieved. He pulled her to her feet and held her hand as they walked back into the villa.
“I meant what I said,” Bodhi told her as he showed her where her room was. “You are part of this family now, Sailor. And whatever you want goes, okay? You need to know what freedom really is and I will do anything in my power to protect you as long as you need me to.”
“Thank you, Bodhi.”
He smiled down at her and she so desperately wanting to kiss his mouth, it became a physical pain inside her. “Goodnight, Sailor.”
“Goodnight.”
Sailor shut the door, and Bodhi went to his own room, his emotions in turmoil. Sailor was avirgin? At twenty-five? And god, what the hell kind of fucked up upbringing had she had?
Bodhi took a cold shower and then slid, naked into bed. He’d nearly broken all of his rules too and kissed her out there on the beach. He had to get her out of his head.
But how? He didn’t want to go back to the screwing around ways of his youth. And nor did he want to keep Sailor at arms-length. She was as important to him now as his own…shit, man, what’s wrong with you? You’ve known her a week.
He sat up and tugged his laptop towards him, waiting for the browser to load, then typing in ‘Bartholomew Foy.' So many results, but Bodhi first clicked on the man’s photograph. A man in his early fifties, smart, but with a sly look on his dully handsome face. He flicked onto the man’s website.
The Children of Love welcomes you in their loving embrace…
“God,” he snorted, but then as he scrolled down, his blood ran cold. A photograph of a much younger Sailor, her eyes haunted, much thinner than she was now was on the front page. Underneath, an open letter to her begging her to return to their fold.
Bodhi read through it with growing horror.
