It’s just like confessing. Just get it out.
“As soon as I'm in the car, she smashes something into my face, and I guess it made me pass out. When I woke up, I was in the very back of the car, like where you put luggage, Priscilla was dressed differently. More casual, almost in a workout suit.” I remember it had those tacky fake jewels on it. I remember her lipstick was blood red. I remember how she held me down with her hand on my throat. It makes me shudder. Evan holds me closer.
“She told me she had found out who I was and that they wanted to find me back in Georgia.” I pause, remembering that Evan doesn't know what I'm talking about. “The trouble with my boyfriend there is he was dealing marijuana and when they caught him, I was with him. I had always worried he might have blamed it on me or something.” I exhale slowly. “Sean was that kind of guy. And when Priscilla said that, I really thought he had.”
Evan's arm around me tightens, and I feel him nod. I shut my eyes again.
“She had a phone, and she showed me the Georgia number for reporting someone like me. She said that she would keep me tied up until they came to get me if I wanted, or I could go along with something she was planning.”
I chew my lip until I taste a coppery tang. Evan's fingers are stroking my hair. It makes me feel strong enough to keep going.
“I don’t know why, but I decided I didn’t believe her, so I told her ‘no’. She said Jim Gunn had gone to tell the— my client that I had made a play for Jim Gunn. That I’d been having sex with him. She said she was going to tell my client that she had heard I was a journalist from Georgia, and tell him my real name so he could confirm, and tell him I was trying to blackmail him. Either I would give over this footage I supposedly had of he and I to someone in the media, or he would need to pay me several million dollars.” Another big, deep breath. My voice cracks. “That just makes me so mad, still.”
He strokes my neck, and I can hear the echo of him saying, It's okay.
“I told her she could kiss off, but...she had this Taser.” When I say that, Evan's body stiffens so much I wish I hadn't. I put my hand on his arm again and stroke his warm skin. “She had the Taser, and she used it on me a few times.” Tears drip down my face. I lick the salt off my lips. “I wasn't strong like you. It didn't take that long for me to cave. I let her call him and I told him what he'd heard was true.”
Evan nudges me, and I realize he's wanting me to turn around and face him. I want to. I want to be held so badly my stomach churns—but I just can’t. I rock back against him and bury my head in my elbow, and he folds himself around me. Silence swims around us, and there’s no pressure in it. Evan is just here, and I think that’s why I’m able to keep talking.
“She was supposed to let me go after that. I would never tell anyone what had happened. That's what she said. But instead, when she got off the phone she knocked me out again with...I guess it was ether or something. And when I woke up, she and Jim Gunn were in the front seat and I was in the back of the SUV, and they told me we were going to Mexico.”
I stop speaking and focus on my breathing. I don't want to tell him anymore, but my mouth seems to move on its own accord. My voice is husky, words too fast.
“I remember I could see the stars through the windows. I've always loved the stars. They always seemed like so many possibilities. And I remember how it felt to know that none of that mattered anymore. My life—” my voice cracks, so I swallow and breathe deeply. “It was over.”
My throat seizes up, as if my body is trying to force me to stop talking. Everything that follows is too painful to remember in such detail, but I know I can't stop the story here. Evan will ask me more questions.
“Guapo bought me in a crappy little house just outside Guadalupe Victoria. I think he paid them a few hundred thousand dollars. He took me to Jesus's penthouse apartment in Chihuahua and Jesus made me his beard.”
I inhale again, surprised that I'm not crying. The inside of my cheek is bleeding from where my molars have sunken into it, but I'm not crying. Not anymore.
I'm not crying until Evan presses his cheek against mine and kisses my salty skin. “You were the victim. I promise.”
I bury my head in my hands, because he sounds so sure. It makes me want to cry. I wanted to be a good person. I wanted to do things right.
He's rubbing my shoulder now, stroking my back. His fingers are a benediction, cleansing me. Soothing me. I can feel him breathing behind me. His chest is so much bigger than mine. So much harder. All of a sudden, I have an absurd desire to turn around and kiss his throat.
I arch my back against his soothing strokes and it's like he heard my thoughts. He turns me around to face him, and suddenly I can smell him: a potent blend of heat and skin and male. I don't dare kiss him, but I can't stop myself from nuzzling his throat. God, the way he feels. Those blue eyes. I'm looking up at him and I can see them glowing in the darkness. I can see his mouth. I want to kiss those perfect lips, to tell him how much he means to me. How much this means.
The thought is like a directive. I arch my back, wriggling closer to him, so my breasts are pressed against his chest, and I see his eyes widen. Then my lips touch down on his, and Evan jerks.
I’m worried he will pull away, but then he groans—and that’s a sound I remember. My head spins wildly as his mouth responds to mine. God, he’s hungry. I wrap my arm around his back and hip, trying to squeeze him to me as our mouths dance. I slide my tongue inside his mouth and tug him closer and he throws his head back, shuddering as he breaks contact.
“Careful, baby.”
I run my hand over his neck, tickling his hairline with my fingers, but I can’t be careful. I can’t do anything but pull him closer to me. The way he’s breathing—fast and hard—lets me know he doesn’t mind. I find his mouth again and this time, he is rougher. Hungry.
“God you taste so sweet.”
I am gasping. “You do.”
I’m lost in the sweetness of him. Unexpected. I never thought a man could be like this. So gentle and rough and soft and hard at once. I want him so much—and Evan wants me, too.
He eases me back against the pillows and he climbs on top of me. I can feel the weight of his body between my legs. I grab his butt and press him into me. I can feel his hardness where I want it most. The world spins.
“Merri. Merri.” He groans again and starts to sit up. I grab his biceps, pulling him back down.
25
Cross
“DAMNIT, MERRI.” THIS, as I sink down on her small, soft body. My right hand tunnels into her hair, caressing her forehead. I press my mouth to hers and Merri tastes delicious. Like a peach. Her lips are warm and velvet soft. Mine glide against them, and as she works her way into my veins, I feel my body trembling. Her hands are wrapped around my biceps. Her hair is everywhere. Her eyes are shining in the dark.
I kiss her once more, then pull away. I need to go. Now.
She takes my face between her soft palms. “Don't, Evan.”
“I can't stay.”
But her mouth won’t let me go. She kisses my throat, and I press myself against the heat between her legs and it feels incredible.