“‘Act like a whore and you’ll get treated like one Livvie.’ That’s all she had to say to me.”
I cried for a while after I repeated my mother’s words. They were the words that echoed through my head whenever I thought about rebelling against my mother in the years after that night. Caleb sat silently. His hand loosely holding mine. I wanted to look at him but I didn’t dare. I couldn’t bear the look of disgust he might be giving me. Or the look of pity.
“Paulo got deported. But my mom never forgave me. She stopped paying attention to me, focusing on my other brothers and sisters…especially my brothers. It was like I was a ghost in my mother’s house. There, but not really.”
“I tried to get back into her good graces. I was the perfect f**king child. I didn’t date, I didn’t go out. I got good grades. I wore the most unflattering clothes I could find. But…”
Caleb’s voice broke through my memories, “But she blamed you for ruining her happiness.”
I nodded. My numbness had finally returned.
I felt my arm being lifted slowly and then I felt Caleb’s soft lips pressing against the back of my hand. “For what it’s worth Livvie, I never thought of you as a whore. And you are…the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I lifted my face to his. God he was beautiful. So beautiful because for the first time, I was seeing him and however long this moment lasted, I’d take it for what it was. He smiled gently and I knew he was disguising so many things. My face was a hideous mess and he still thought me beautiful. “Well…maybe that’s my problem then…too pretty.” His smile fell and I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. I struggled to make it right, “Hey, you know my name now.”
He smiled thinly and slowly withdrew his hand from mine. The warmth between us was quickly dissipating. Tears welled in my eyes again as he stood, “You’ll always be Kitten to me…Livvie.”
It was my turn to smile weakly. His words, as ever, could be a double entendre.
He circled the bed and made his way to my left side. He leaned toward the nightstand and opened the top drawer. “This is for the pain.” He held up a syringe and pulled the cap off.
“What is it?” I asked, dreading the needle.
“I’ve told you already.”
“What if I don’t want it?”
He looked slightly amused now. “In a little while, when the last dose fades, you’ll want it.”
“Will it make me sleep? I don’t want to sleep.”
“No.” I had the distinct impression he was lying. “It just makes the pain easier to deal with.”
“And you?” I was suddenly anxious. And shy.
“What about me?”
“Are you just going to leave me here alone?”
The long silence had me wondering how much I’d imagined the past few minutes. “If you want, I’ll stay.”
Caleb stared, but I said nothing. I couldn’t bring myself to admit how vulnerable I was feeling. My mother had let me go. I was free of her, but not free.
“Kitten?” His voice was calm, his blue eyes filled with emotion I couldn’t put into words but his gaze and tone had taken on a faraway look. He shook his head abruptly, waking from his brief daze. Where did he go?
After a moment of hesitation, I said hoarsely, “I don’t want to be alone.”
“I’ll stay,” he said softly.
My face felt like it had been hit with a bag of hammers. But he was here. Taking care of me. Because he knew I needed him to. He pulled back the sheet gently and watched me as he lifted the nightgown I wore to just above my hip. I gasped. My legs were covered in bruises, some of them in the shape of boot soles. “Eyes on me Kitten.” Our eyes met just as I felt the prick of the needle.
Moments later my lids were heavy, and I was flying, free falling then flying again. I didn’t dream, I just flew toward the horizon neither black nor white.
Caleb could and would hurt me. Not today, but maybe tomorrow or the next day. Still, for the first time I knew he could not destroy me. It would matter to him if I didn’t exist. And no matter what happened, I’d land on my feet because Caleb had shown me I had it in me. It was a strange gift, from an unexpected source.
FOURTEEN
There was a reason I didn’t want to sleep. I didn’t want to dream. I didn’t want to think about my mother, or Paulo, or my brothers and sisters. Or everything that followed between Caleb and me.
I especially didn’t want to envision Nicole, beautiful Nicole, lost and wandering around Mexico looking for me. I would never forgive myself if something happened to her. I tossed and turned as anger, sadness, and worry turned my mind inside out. The pain in my shoulder didn’t help and my tossing and turning had created a dull ache that felt like it was part of the bone.
And then there was the inevitable. The hushed voices. The memory of being held down as they pulled my clothes off. The way they ignored my screams as they sucked and pulled at me. I felt it all over again – that horrible beating.
Against the strength of the drugs I forced my eyes open and screamed. I sucked air into my burning lungs and tried to focus my eyes.
Caleb’s body jerked from the chair he’d been sitting in, and he turned on the light.
Realization hit.
I was the other one. I was the one who needed love and validation. I was the one who didn’t want to let Caleb go because I was convinced he was important to me in some irrational, irrevocable way. I was feeling things I’d never felt before, and in other ways, I felt Caleb was more damaged than me. Not in some tragic sense, but in a fundamental way that bridged the vast distances between us.
But my other half didn’t think any of that mattered.
He kidnapped you for a reason, she reminded. Don’t trust him. Don’t be like your mother, stop falling for his bullshit. He doesn’t care about you!
I pulled back, but unlike before, his arms released me easily. Deep, Caribbean-blue eyes looked down at me. At first they seemed to want to express so much, but then…nothing. I was tired of nothing. I wanted something. I needed something.
“What is it?” he asked, his tone carefully veiled. “Tell me.”