CHAPTER 2

And you, you knew the hands of the devil
And you, kept us awake with wolf teeth
Sharing different heartbeats
In one night

Jose Gonzalez, Heartbeats

The second time she saw Lucas, Alexa was at a hotel bar, and this time, it was he who approached her, his face uncertain at first. His eyes searched her face, studying her features and for a moment, Alexa saw what looked like embarrassment fill Lucas' face, his cheeks coloring, as if remembering their first encounter.

She smiled. "Lucas," she said, extending her hand. "It's been a long time." They shook hands and Lucas asked if he could join her for a drink.

To an outsider, it looked as if they were on a date, perhaps meeting each other for the first time. They seemed shy, keeping their distance from each other, courteous to a fault.

But it was not too far from the truth and Alexa and Lucas knew it. They had met each other during a much different time, when they were both not exactly themselves. She felt as if she knew him, yet she was keenly aware that she knew nothing about him.

She only knew the bits that she'd made up to make him more real during the days when she waited for him to come back for her in Moscow. And afterwards, when she'd heard that he'd been captured, she'd made up more things just to make her believe that he was alright, till one day she believed him dead.

Alexa sipped her drink, avoiding his gaze. The feelings she had felt the first time she had seen him the day before did not surface, and she was grateful for it. She'd been at the shooting range to work it all her feelings out. She did not care what other people thought. The feel of the gun against her skin, the slamming of the recoil against her small hands, was her therapy.

"How long have you been back?" She asked as he ordered a drink. Whiskey.

"Two weeks," he lied. He had barely been back three days, the day before Remembrance Day. He looked drawn, his cheekbones taut against the classic slope of his cheekbones. His thin lips managed a wry smile as he looked around them. "It's like I never left. How are you?"

"Fine," Alexa replied. "I had to go through so much therapy it made my head spin. But I think I'm alright now." This time, she lied.

"Good to know," he said, seeing right through her.

They sat for a while, not speaking. Lucas turned towards her, his expression curious. "How did you know it was me? It's been nine years."

Alexa shrugged. "How could I not know, Lucas. You saved my life, and I can never forget that, even if I wanted to." She'd memorized his face during that night in Moscow, held on to the memory till she returned on English soil and knew that it was all real. She was home.

They returned their attention to their drinks, their eyes absently watching the football game on the television screens overhead. All around them, people laughed and celebrated little moments amongst themselves - a touch on the cheek, a pat on the shoulder, a tender kiss on the lips. Yet they all faded as soon as Lucas turned to face her again.

"We really shouldn't be talking to each other, Alexa," Lucas said hoarsely. The sight of her brought memories of Russia rushing back and he found himself breaking into a sweat. He brought his hand to his mouth, rubbing his chin slowly. He frowned, looking away from her.

Alexa sighed. "We don't have to," she said softly, bringing her hand to touch Lucas' shoulder.

She watched his expression as he looked at her, his blue gray eyes searching her face. He looked pained, drawn. It looked like he didn't sleep very well, the dark circles under his eyes illuminated by the lights of the bar.

"How did you do it? How did you survive? You were so young." He asked.

"You just do," Alexa replied, shrugging. "You'd be surprised how the will to live is so strong. The hope that one day someone will appear and help you. Sometimes it's a useless dream, but you need your dreams. You need hope."

Lucas smiled wryly, returning to his drink. "I know the feeling."

The evening crowd was filling up the bar and Lucas drained his drink and paid the tab for both of them. He got up from his stool, wrestling with his thoughts as turned away from her. The memory of him with his back turned towards her that night came rushing back to Alexa but and she held her breath, her body tensing.

Lucas paused and took a deep breath. He could leave right now, he thought, and leave her to go on with her life, just as he could do the same with his. Instead Lucas turned back towards her. "Would you like me to walk you home?"

Alexa smiled as she gathered her purse and stood up. "You don't need to."

"I'd like to," Lucas said though he could feel the conflicting emotions rise up from deep within his chest. He wanted to tell her how difficult is was to readjust back into society after being gone for so long, how he'd lost so much and that all he had now was MI5, if Harry would take him back, and nothing else. And even that was on shaky ground. Harry didn't trust him.

I have nothing, he wanted to tell her.

Lucas smelled the scent of her perfume, faint and flowery, as she brushed past him to head towards the door. She carried herself with such grace. There were no signs that she'd spent six months as a prisoner in some strange land, where the men beat her and raped her each day.

Lucas wanted to see her pain, her bitterness, yet Alexa showed him none of it. He had been racked with guilt when they had had sex under the watchful eyes of Mikhael that night, knowing that he'd never once been unfaithful to Elizabeta till that day. Mikhael had stayed long enough to see that it had been done, and Lucas had never forgiven himself for that one necessary indiscretion. And Alexa had been party to it.

It was a secret only they knew about, a weight that had burdened him for so long.

But now Lucas was alone. Elizabeta had moved on. Everyone he knew had moved on.

Alexa lived just a few blocks from the hotel, something that Lucas knew long before he had come by to the hotel, knowing he'd find her there. He had looked up her information that afternoon, curious. He thought that she had moved on and was probably married, with children of her own and a past that was behind her, never to be remembered.

They walked up the stairs leading to her flat and she unlocked her door. She turned to look at him. Her long brown hair, which had been tied in a loose ponytail, had loosened and Lucas watched it cascade down her shoulder. She pulled the elastic and tossed it on the side-table.

"Would you like to come in?" She asked.

"I don't think it's a good idea," he said, yet Lucas knew he was lying. His eyes looked beyond her shoulder towards the interior of her flat, seeing the books lined up along the shelves, and the furniture, carefully selected and arranged and looking so...lived in. Like she had really settled in.

But then, Alexa had been home for nine years. Lucas had barely adjusted to even the idea of home in the last thirty-six hours. After spending too much time in solitary confinement for years, his flat seemed huge and too open. It left him too vulnerable.

"Well, thank you for walking me home, Lucas," Alexa said. "Maybe we'll bump into each other again."

"Maybe," Lucas replied and turned to walk down the steps. It was a lie, just another one of his lies. He would never see her again.

The night had settled over the city and Lucas walked slowly away, aware that she still stood on the steps watching him leave. As he turned around the corner, he saw that she'd finally gone inside, the door closing behind her.

A feeling of longing filled Lucas' chest, weighing heavily upon him. He felt slowed down, unable to move faster, wishing he were as far away from her as he could possibly be, simply because she brought him back there, back to that awful place. His screams from all the beatings and torture still echoed inside his head, his mind barely registering the change of scenery, unaware that he was already home.

Lucas stopped and stood on the sidewalk for a few minutes. Something tugged at him, forcing him to turn back and stand in front of Alexa again, feel her hands upon his body, her hair brushing against his belly.

She was his connection to his past, and a link to his future. Death and the promise of life chained together. A future where one could move on without revealing pain where it lurked the deepest.

Suddenly Lucas was sprinting, his long legs taking him back to where he had left her. He took the steps two at a time and knocked on her door. She opened it, one hand on the door knob and the other, running her fingers through her hair. A tear ran down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away, embarrassed.

Their eyes met and locked together, as if an unseen understanding between them had been forged from the pain they had both endured for so long.

Lucas had hated himself for what happened between them that first night, with Mikhael watching them from the door. Yet ever since he'd seen her that day on Regent Street, he found himself remembering every single second of that night, of the way she'd looked at him.

It was a loneliness that seemed to burn from the very core of her being, a loneliness he knew too well.

"Bloody hell," he whispered as she closed the door behind him. Lucas gathered her in his arms, feeling the softness of her body against his as their lips met, exploring each other with a deep hunger he hadn't known existed.

It was a hunger that only someone who'd been there with him could quench, someone who had been at that same place as he had been for eight years could understand. There was no tenderness to this meeting, just desperation for some understanding between two wounded souls. An answer to the call of loneliness answered by someone who'd been there, by someone who was still there.

Lucas wanted to devour her and understand her secrets for making it appear so normal. They stumbled through the foyer, bumping on walls and tables, as they shed layers of clothing. She led him to the living room where a fire burned, the room warming up just as their inner fires lit up, consuming them both in a passion so hot it burned through them. As he tore the clothes off her, taking control of her, they tumbled upon the sofa and landed upon the soft carpet before the fire.

It was there that Lucas took her with an urgency he'd never known. It had been so long since he'd been with a woman, so long since he'd felt the sensation of hair gliding upon his skin, the feeling of hands caressing his back, where his tattoos bore witness to his journey. It had been a long time since he'd been held like she held him now.

They kissed as they made furious love on the carpet, and when she brought her arms around his neck, Lucas grabbed her wrists and held them down, holding them there as he entered her, hearing her gasp at the urgency of it all though she was ready for him. He could not let her hold him tenderly. It was as if he were punishing her for moving on, laying claim to her body and wanting to know its secrets.

Their eyes locked as they moved together, her legs wrapped around him. He wanted her to look at him, and she did, even as she came in waves, crying out as he let go of her wrists and held her face between his hands, bringing his mouth down on hers to lay claim upon her lips as her body lay quivering beneath his.

This time no one was watching them. This time there were only the two of them, moving as one, eyes exploring the depths only they knew about. When Lucas came, he clung to her, his hands intertwined with hers and he lay atop her unmoving for some time, breathing heavily. She found his face wet with tears and she shifted on top of him, kissing his face where his tears left their mark.

They did not speak. Their breathing slowed to a calmer pace as she ran her fingers through his hair, her lips soft against his face. Alexa nuzzled his neck gently, feeling this pulse throb beneath her lips as she breathed, not wanting to move.

The savagery of his actions had surprised her but it had not frightened her. Instead it had excited her to feel his want and need of her, to feel his desire of conquering her. Alexa sat up and looked at him, her eyes alighting upon the tattoos upon his torso.

His body had been free of tattoos when she first saw him. That she remembered vividly. She traced the images on his belly, feeling him stiffen as she did so, but he did not stop her discovery of his body.

"Gnothi seauton?" She asked, breaking the silence between them as she traced the words tattooed between his hip bones.

Lucas smiled wryly, his fingers tracing the outline of her breast watching the goosebumps form on her skin as he ran his fingers along her collar bone. "Know thyself."

"And do you?"

"I haven't even scratched the surface," he replied. "Too many layers, too many masks." He continued to stroke the skin above her collarbones, his finger feeling the pulse on her neck. When her hands strayed lower, Lucas leaned back, shuddering at the softness of her touch.

"Don't we all?" She asked and Lucas opened his eyes to watch her. "Wear masks, I mean? If we were to let the masks fall, what will people see but the sadness, the regret. Sometimes it's all that people want to see - how much you suffer. If only to make their own lives feel much better."

Alexa bent her head to kiss the tattoo on his belly, a butterfly kiss that flitted for just a second, only to be replaced by the touch of her soft fingers. She resumed her discovery of his body now, and Lucas thought he saw the child in her, in the way she smiled faintly as her finger ran across one tattoo and then another.

He closed his eyes as he allowed himself to feel the soft touch of her hands upon his skin, feeling her fingers blaze a trail up his belly, towards his chest. There was a tenderness to her touch now as she studied the tattoos gently.

"How do you do it?" He asked. His hands stroked her hair lazily. "How do you move on?"

"You just do," Alexa replied. "Because there is no other choice. You simply move on with your life knowing that your innocence is gone and there's no getting it back. You're still you, even with all the scars that people don't see. Or see."

She rolled away from him and Lucas cradled her in his arm as they lay on the rug together. She turned to face the fire, her back to him and Lucas noticed the intricate tattoo upon her back. He sat up to look at it.

Where her back had been scarred up from cigarette burns and whippings that had torn through skin when she'd attempted to escape Mikhael, a fiercely beautiful Hindu goddess stared back at Lucas, a row of skulls hanging from her neck. As Alexa sat up, the goddess seemed to dance before Lucas.

"It's the goddess Kali," Alexa said, noticing his silence as he stared at her back. "The goddess of creation and destruction. Protector of children."

"It's beautiful," Lucas found himself saying. Fiercely beautiful. He traced the goddess' face with his finger, feeling her skin tremble beneath his touch. Lucas kissed her shoulder gently.

"You're beautiful," he whispered.

She turned towards him and kissed him, this time tenderly. His lips came alive once more and they kissed again, each one taking their time to taste and savor each other. She pushed him back down onto the floor and kissed his chest, her lips trailing down the tattoos that graced his belly till she reached the area just below his navel.

He had almost forgotten how it felt, to be held by a woman, and made love to. It had been too long that he'd lived in so much fear and isolation and Lucas surprised himself with the vulnerability he allowed Alexa to see.

Maybe it was because she'd been there. She'd been there and returned, broken yet unbroken. Tainted but untainted. Only she could understand what he'd been through, what he was going through.

They pleasured each other through the night, the hours filled with conversation meant to learn a little bit about each other and nothing more, and lovemaking. Always the lovemaking, as if quenching a hunger that had stayed with them all those years apart. And when they were finally exhausted, Alexa watched him sleep, watching the shadows from the fire play upon his face, so peaceful in the semi-darkness. In that moment, Lucas looked child-like, free from the nightmares that plagued him.

There was a vulnerability to his features, relaxed now as Lucas slept. The hardness had left his face and Alexa smiled. When she finally let sleep overtake her, the sun was just rising and she knew that when she'd awake, Lucas would be gone, which was just as well.

There would be no good-byes. Not today.