want an even larger chapter you never asked for? well here it is...
I only edited after each writing session, didn't go back through and edit the whole thing, so if there are mistakes or inconsistencies, that's why. probab ly not worth working that much on fanfiction. writing's the fun part
"Isn't this…kind of conspicuous?" said Connie.
"It's not like we're hiding who we are. All we're hiding is that we know what he is. Make sure you conceal all suspicion of him—if he's even there today. Might just be a worker who doesn't know about his background. Perhaps we should've made an appointment… but perhaps it's best to catch him off guard. Make it seem casual—not like we're going out of our way to meet him." He looked out the window, feeling that familiar thrill of closing in on a target. The chess match, played out on a massive, complex board with living players—
What's the matter with me? he thought. I thought I was over that kind of thinking… apparently not. Not when it comes to rescuing kids—maybe this is what I was born for. What being an agent was merely preparation for. Doing something that actually matters, doesn't spin me through a labyrinth of shadows that signify nothing.
Connie grasped his arm, just as he was about to open the door. "I don't know if I can do this. Pretend like I don't know who he is. I'm…not good at that kind of thing. I'll slip up and I'll give us away—maybe I better stay in the car."
"Hey—you've got this. All you have to do is act normally."
"But—it'll be all I think about and I won't be able to act naturally—I'll give you away and he'll hurt you—it'll be all my fault!"
He cupped her chin gently. "You'll do great. I'll take the lead. You can be an observer—watch to see if he does anything abnormal or if there are any clues in the background. That's the basic definition of a spy—one who watches."
"That'll seem suspicious…"
"It's a new place; he won't know what you're looking at specifically."
"I don't know….."
"As long as you don't blurt out who he is, I doubt he could divine your thoughts."
"I just might…"
"I trust you. You're capable of so much more than you know. He can't do much to us here." He glanced out the window and caught a glimpse of a brightly colored ball hurtling between two kids in the yard beyond the fence. "Maybe it's best if you focus on the kids. Ask them if they've seen anything suspicious. Our pretext is that we're investigating all kinds of places like this. Which we are. There aren't any limits to the places we look."
"Unless it gets too dangerous."
His heart flipped over. "Yes. I'm…not sure how far that line should be…. Maybe we just have to trust God wherever he leads. Help these kids, no matter what the sacrifice—because they're worth it."
"I can't—lose you."
"I don't want to leave you. But—going into danger doesn't mean God won't bring us out of it. And if the worst happened—we'd meet again."
"I know. They're in so much pain and they're just kids. We've been blessed with so much… and we can use that. But… I just can't bear the thought of losing you. Even more now…. After I left you alone for so long… without making it up to you…."
He kissed her forehead. "You don't have to make it up to me."
"I'll try to get over that…. But—I want to be with you. Get back the time that we lost. I want to give you—so much. I want to love you and give you what you deserve…. I can't if… I know it's in God's hands. But—the worst isn't…death. It's… the torture before death. I can't stand the thought of you—ever getting hurt again."
"I'm not too thrilled with the idea either. But… it would be worth risking that… to rescue them. I can't bear the thought of them suffering, and there's something I could do…. I don't want to leave you. But God would find a way out. If not… I don't want to think about it. Maybe we shouldn't think about it. Just—follow the investigation wherever it leads and trust God he'll protect us. Our souls are the things that matter… not this…" He grasped his arm, contemplating its design, the mangled scar marring the center of his hand. Shuddered inwardly at the pain he might still have to endure…and cringed away from the idea. It was one thing to hang onto your ideals, to determine to follow through… and another thing to face excruciating pain…. He'd just scratched the surface of human suffering—only a few hours of it, and he'd escaped. But he'd still had to endure significant PTSD…. What might happen if it was much worse. Such as what Gray had gone through. Jason didn't want to imagine. Perhaps it was best not to dwell on it… to do what God wanted and trust him, not constantly dread potential pain.
Connie swept her fingers along his jaw; a shiver trembled through him. "It matters to me." Her eyes glimmered with tears.
"I'm far from fatalistic. I'm going to do everything in my power to get back to you. To not let them keep me, if it happens. To fight—get the kids back, and myself." A shadow flickered across his mind. "If it came to you… I don't know what I'd do. Maybe it is best if you not paint a target on yourself… best if you not go with me. As much as I love to have you close… it's not worth it if you…got hurt. Especially with such an enemy as Yavesh. The things they…." He took a sharp breath, not wanting to think of what could happen—to him, the worst wouldn't even be leaving her or getting tortured unspeakably. It would be losing her to the fate of the trafficked girls. The things he'd seen on those videos…. He would do everything in his power to make sure that didn't happen.
Maybe he should send her back to America…. She'd be safe there. Now that he was getting an idea of how truly ruthless and powerful Yavesh was.
As long as she didn't go into direct danger. Investigation like this…. Ali would have no idea of their real intentions. If he did, though, he'd know about Connie, and she'd be connected with him. Now that they were investigating the suspects directly…. Perhaps she should stay home.
But if she focused on the kids… didn't make much of an impression on Ali… maybe it would be okay. Ultimately, it was up to her. He couldn't force her to do anything.
"If you'd like to stay in the car, or it could take you home…"
"If…there's something I can do to help, I want to stay. I can focus on the kids. That's what I'm used to, after all."
"And you're good at it." He kissed her cheek. "Shall we?" He proffered his hand. She took it and they climbed out of the limo. The driver saluted them and drove off; they'd hail a taxi back.
They walked up the sidewalk. The building was a pristine, glistening fortress amid the rather desolate landscape. Across the street was an empty lot full of gravel and crabgrass, littered with garbage. Behind was a shabby storefront and brick apartments lining the road. The tinted glass of the orphanage gleamed like sheets of sheer ice.
He opened the door to a broad reception area, seashell pink walls and dark marble-like floor glinting with embedded mica. A receptionist smiled from behind a large desk that matched the floor.
"How may I help you?" she asked as they approached. She had dark hair, a jaunty ponytail, large dark cheerful eyes.
"Hi, I'm Jason Whittaker, this is my wife Connie."
"Hi," said Connie, smiling. She looked a little more at ease.
"Do you have an appointment?" She toggled her mouse to bring up a program on her computer.
Jason shook his head. "We're freelance investigators looking into human trafficking."
The girl's eyes widened. "Oh."
"If we could ask you a few questions? Perhaps some of the kids, if they're up to it?"
She pursed her lips. "Well…. I would probably have to ask the director if that's okay."
"Of course."
She picked up her phone.
Jason turned to Connie. "Sure is a nice place…."
She nodded. "Doesn't look like an orphanage. More like… a car store or something."
"Appearances can be deceiving…"
The receptionist hung up and turned to them. "Well, you're in luck. The director isn't just willing to answer your questions, he's on his way over right now."
"Who is the director?" asked Jason.
"Ali Dogan. He's just—the best." She clasped her hands. "I knew he'd be open to this… if he wasn't busy, which he often is. But turns out it's Present Day."
"Present Day?"
"He comes over and showers the kids with gifts once a month—he picks it at random, so it's always a surprise! Oh, you're in for a treat." Her smile was off the charts.
"Maybe we shouldn't bother him—"
"No, he said it'd be okay. In any case, he'll be here any minute."
As if on cue, another limo, this one purple, slid up in front of the building. A man leaped out and jaunted to the door. He flung it open and stepped inside.
His brilliant smile seemed to encompass him in a glowing aura. He was all chrome and charm and seething with power harnessed by a benevolent nature. It put Jason on his guard, because he knew what such people could do, what the effect of their personality could accomplish—for good and for evil.
He was tall, with curly dark hair and dark eyes overshone with a glittering eagerness and easygoing good will. He had a muscular, athletic body, slim but powerful, strength drawn into every fiber of its length. He had an elegantly, effortlessly handsome face, golden tan, with the cheekbones and teeth of a model and the chin of a brawler, the sensitive lips of an actor or someone who made a living with the spoken word. He had the face of someone who'd probably left a trail of broken hearts in his wake. A lot of women, and some men, Jason conceded, wouldn't be able to resist such a face or force of nature.
Ali held out his hand.
Jason hesitated for just a sliver of a second, hoping Ali hadn't noticed. Jason put his soul on guard, although he hoped his shield was undetectable.
He grasped Ali's hand. It was a strong grip—he wouldn't have expected anything less. It pressed tightly to Jason's hand, almost to the point of pain, twisting a little, then letting go; Jason suspected he wouldn't have let go if Jason had initiated the release. Can he already suspect me? Or is it just his manner, sizing me up? I'd better be extra careful….
"I'm Ali Dogan," said Ali. "And you must be Jason Whittaker."
Jason nodded, not sure if the receptionist had told him or there was something more nefarious at work. "This is my wife, Connie," he said, wishing he could vanish Connie from Dogan's sight and memory, but having to make sure he didn't draw his attention to her by acting suspicious in any way.
Ali took Connie's hand and shook it, then clasped her hand with his other hand. Connie looked a little startled. Jason quivered to go to her rescue. Ali leaned over and kissed her hand, just brushed the tips of her knuckles. She blushed, looking unsure what to do, and drew her hand back as soon as she could. Ali didn't seem to notice. "To have such a beauty as you cross my doorway—it truly is a privilege." His eyes flickered over her appreciatively and heat flashed through Jason. He had to restrain himself from jumping in front of her and pushing Ali away. Slowly, he moved to her side, edging between them a little.
"And I'm not just saying that… though all women are beautiful in some way, wouldn't you agree?"
Jason nodded, his heart knotted in his chest.
"But you, Mrs. Whittaker, are truly exceptional." He looked at Jason. "You must feel very fortunate."
"Yes. She's an incredible blessing—way beyond what I deserve."
Connie smiled back at him, looking a little revived from Ali's onslaught.
"Although you're not without considerable assets, yourself." His eyes fluttered lightly over Jason, appraising him. Jason felt almost violated by it, although there was nothing more than a light, detached interest to it, overtly at least. "I would say you're almost equally matched, except she does have the advantage of youth and…less wear and tear." Ali's smile widened. He looked at the girl behind the counter. "Thank you, Jana. You have been most helpful." He showered the maximum brightness of his smile and charm on her and she nearly glowed with happiness, her cheeks reddening. Jason didn't doubt she had a crush on him… not many young women could resist someone like that. He wished more people would actually critically examine someone else's effect on them, especially when it came to them being overwhelmed by it… But Jason could barely restrain his own reactions, so he couldn't judge.
"That's my sister's name," said Jason, partly to divert the poor girl from the inexorable sunrays of her boss.
"Really?"
"Any brothers?" said Ali, tilting his head a little.
Jason's heart jolted. "Um. Yes… no."
"You sort of have a brother?"
"He….passed away. A long time ago."
"I'm sorry to hear that," said Ali, and from the tone of his voice, Jason could almost believe him. "I've lost people too. Why don't you come back with me—I don't want to keep the kids waiting. Then we can talk—over dinner perhaps, if that's okay with you."
It was lunchtime… Connie might be hungry. He didn't want to subject Connie to Ali's presence any longer… but he couldn't very well consult her about it overtly. If she said anything about leaving, he'd jump at the chance to get her out of here.
But I'll have to restrain myself. I don't want to give myself away. I'm supposed to be a professional at this. But he just had to catch me off guard with his attentions to Connie…another reason it's probably best if she gets out of here as soon as possible… if she's in danger, I lose my composure…
They walked back down a wide hall with a white floor embedded with flecks of gold, green and blue. Bright, cheery pictures hung on the walls, of kids playing, animals, or clowns.
They passed several rooms, spacious lounges with large windows. It was impressive, but Jason wondered what the kids' quarters looked like behind closed doors. "This place is really nice," he said.
Ali spread out an arm expansively. "You may have noticed this doesn't look like a typical orphanage. I've recycled my business designs, with some modifications. These kids deserve the best. Not some shabby, stuffy place. I am generous because I can afford to be. And because I know what it's like to be without." A grim shadow crossed his effervescence. Jason wondered whether his first impressions were wrong…. Though how could they be, unless Saul and Leila were mistaken about his identity…. It was possible… but slippery characters could seem altruistic and often used it for a false front. Ali had a very prominent philanthropic façade…. Could be used to divert attention… make him seem beyond reproach….
"What do you mean?" asked Connie.
"I was an orphan myself. I was lucky to have a great family. But then they were killed in a robbery." He looked away, pain stabbing his eyes. "I was out on the streets after that…. Didn't get taken in until I was fifteen, then it was too late. Too late to unsee some things…." Sorrow burdened his voice; Jason couldn't divine if it was real or not. He might be one of these psychopaths who could feign emotion, or one who knew how to reveal his own feelings to have the right effect on his audience.
"I'll have to show you around the kids' dorms after this. I've gone to great expense to make them feel at home, whether they get adopted or not. We orphans have to stick together."
He opened a door to the right, revealing a large yard teeming with kids—playing on the intricate playground, drawing chalk on the blacktop, running over the grassy field, playing basketball. Some girls near them were playing jump rope, but they stopped when they saw Ali, Jason, and Connie.
A little blond girl jumped up and down. "It's Ali! It's Ali!"
The other girls followed suit and soon other kids swarmed around them. Ali crouched down and took a small boy into his lap, sitting down on the steps. The kids crowded around, their eyes lighting up, nearly trampling him. Some of them tugged on his clothes and hair but he didn't seem to mind. He hugged the kids then stood up, shaking them off like acorns off a tree.
"Okay, kids. You ready for Present Day?"
"Yeah!" they screamed in unison.
They streamed over to the back of the building; a truck backed up and a door slid open. Full to the brim with toys.
"Ready?" said Ali. "Set—Go!"
He pressed a signal on his cell phone and the truck tilted its bed and dumped the toys in a huge pile. They slid out, almost encompassing the kids, but they stood back at a safe enough distance with the help of some workers, some of whom took the smaller kids into their arms. Then, as soon as the toys had slid out of the truck and the door slid back, the kids dove headfirst into the massive pile, grabbing toys by the armful. It was heart-warming chaos as the kids screamed and ran and buried themselves in the toys. Assistants helped break up the few fights. A small girl close to them toddled up to the pile and stared in disbelief. Ali crouched down beside her. "Do you want me to help you pick a toy?" The little girl nodded. "You can pick as many as you can carry."
"My arms are too small." The girl sniffed.
"Mine aren't. Just tell me which ones you want."
The girl pointed at a doll, then a blue truck, then more. Ali gathered them in his arms and amassed them in a small pile near the steps, away from the chaos of the larger group. The little girl sat down by the toys, beaming with joy.
A little girl tugged on the hem of Connie's shirt. She had puffy black pigtails and carried a brown toy horse in her hand. "I think she is broken. Are you one of the new teachers?"
Connie shook her head but crouched down to the girl's level. "Maybe I can help." She took the toy gently from the little girl. It had movable legs but one leg hung sideways. Carefully, Connie maneuvered the leg around. With a little click, the leg slid back into place and Connie moved it experimentally.
The little girl's eyes lit up. "Thank you!" She took the horse and kissed its face. "You must be a horse doctor."
Connie shook her head, smiling. "But I can ride horses."
"Really? I never seen a horse except in the fields when I came here! I want to ride a horse. Can you teach me?"
Connie looked a little startled. "I—don't know. I'd like to. But I'm just visiting, so I don't know any horses around here."
The little girl pursed her lips. "Well, you know Brownie!" She lifted the toy horse.
Jason crouched down beside Connie. "That's a cute name."
The little girl looked up at him, fear splashing across her eyes. She backed away and ran into the crowd. Jason's heart sank. "You're probably the better one to ask kids questions," he said to Connie. "It's…more often men that hurt them." He felt a shadow of shame to have any connection to abusers. To men who used their strength to hurt instead of help.
"Maybe that's how I can help," said Connie.
Ali came toward them, holding the hand of the girl who had just run away. She looked completely comfortable with him but hid a little when they came nearer. She clutched the horse close to her chest. "I told her there's nothing to be afraid of," said Ali. "I wouldn't let anyone in here who would hurt them."
Jason felt a sting of doubt. Had they misjudged this man? Or was it just elaborate pageantry? Why would these kids trust him so much? Just because he showered them with toys, or because of something deeper?
"I would never hurt you," said Jason. "In fact, we're here to help you."
"Really?" She took a tentative step forward.
"I'm trying to find people that kidnap kids."
"Will you…take them to jail?"
Jason nodded.
"Then they can't hurt any kids ever again." A storm snapped in her deep brown eyes.
"Tanya here came here just a few weeks ago," said Ali. "If anyone's likely to have relevant info, it's the newer kids. I'll gather several of the more likely prospects in a…quieter setting and you can talk to them."
"If they're up to it."
"I'd never force them to do something they didn't want to do."
An assistant showed them to one of the spacious lounges with a long maroon couch and several chartreuse chairs. Jason sat down on the couch and Connie sat down beside him. Across from them, soothing scenes glided by on a wall TV with soft music and nature sounds. A few toys sat in right corner—blocks, puzzles, board games. A table stood near the window with several small chairs, some paper and crayons on it.
Connie clasped her hands, leaning forward. "I mean…this is a beautiful place. Why would someone go to all the trouble of helping them? If…."
"I don't know. We could be mistaken. But then… some people go to an awful lot of trouble to maintain…appearances." He glanced at the doorway. "Just be careful."
"Well, this way it's easier to pretend nothing's going on… so I don't get so nervous."
"Just don't let your guard down."
She nodded. "But it's worse if I'm nervous…more likely to say the opposite of what I want."
"Let's see what happens when he shows us the dorms. And if we get an inkling of anything off from the kids—"
The door opened. Ali walked in with a blond assistant and a cluster of four kids, aged from around five to eleven. Tanya was with them. She walked up to Connie and held up her horse. "Thank you for fixing her."
"You're welcome."
"You said your sister got taken away?" said Ali.
Tanya nodded solemnly. "Mommy and Daddy were gone in the fire. I don't know where they went. Mina, my sister, she went with me to the other orphanage. When I went to see her the other day, some man was there. I didn't like him. He smelled funny."
"What did he smell like?" said Jason.
She wrinkled her nose. "Like smoke. I ran away and he tried to grab me. I kept running but then I went back to see my sister. But I couldn't see her! Now she's gone. Maybe she went with Mommy and Daddy."
The assistant crouched down. "We talked about this, sweetie. Your mommy and daddy can't come back. Remember?"
She shook her head, tears springing to her eyes.
The assistant grasped her arm gently. "They're in heaven."
She shook her head, tears streaking her dark cheeks. "No—they'll come back, I know it! They'll come and I can show them all the toys. And they can help me find Mina. And we can build our house again."
"Tanya," said Ali, sitting in one of the chairs, "You'll get to see your mommy and daddy someday. I promise. But you might have to stay with some other people for a while."
She shook her head. "I want to stay here. Till they come get me."
"Wouldn't you like to live in a nice home? With a yard? Where other kids won't take your toys?"
"I suppose…. Only if I can go with her!" She pointed at Connie, who looked a little startled.
Ali smiled indulgently. "You'd have to go with Jason, too."
"Is he nice?" she said, stepping closer to Connie.
"Very nice," Connie replied. "I should know—we're married." She grasped his hand.
"Do you have any kids too?"
Connie smiled a little sadly. "Not yet."
"Maybe I can come see you when you have a baby."
"Maybe…. I live kind of faraway though."
"I will go on a plane and then I can see you after mommy and daddy can come. And Mina."
Ali leaned forward. "Can you tell them anything else about that man? The one who might've taken Mina?"
She shook her head.
"What color was his hair? His eyes?"
"Um…I think he had brown hair. His eyes were just mean. I could tell he was mean."
"How could you tell?"
"Mina was scared of him. He pulled her arm." She looked scared. Jason wished he could comfort her… take her home. But she was safe, for now anyway. His priority had to be the ones taken…. Then, maybe… if Connie agreed…. Well, they couldn't adopt every orphan in Muldavia….. or.…?
"What was he wearing?"
"A long jacket."
"Was he tall?"
"Up to the ceiling."
"Anything else?"
"I don't know…. I want to go find Mina. Can I help you look for her?" She looked at Jason.
"I don't want you to get caught too. I hope I can find her and bring her back." Jason hoped Mina had escaped somehow… that she hadn't gone with that man…
"She came from a rather shady orphanage in Zelise," said Ali. "You could check there, but I doubt it'll be very helpful. I've got connections with the police department there. I'll ask around—if they get a positive match, I'll let you know."
"Thank you," said Jason.
"Thank you, Tanya. Your description might help us find Mina. Now it's Toma's turn." He beckoned to a little blond boy who was coloring furiously at the table. The assistant tried to pick him up, but he wriggled out of her grasp and went back to drawing with his red crayon. She touched his shoulder; he flinched away. "Are you going to help, Toma?"
He shook his head. "I want to draw."
"You said you would help find the man who hurt you."
"I don't 'member. Go 'way."
She looked at Ali, at a loss.
"Maybe he can draw him," Ali said.
She knelt beside the little boy. "Can you draw the bad man? The one who came to your mommy's house?"
The boy hesitated, then he started drawing again, this time with a blue crayon. He scribbled furiously and made very careful lines, then made some dots for good measure. Then he crept over toward Connie and Jason. He looked at the picture, swept away some crayon shavings, then turned the picture to face them. "This that guy. He hit me. He took mommy's money then hit her. She didn't wake up." His blue eyes were wide and serious.
"Oh—Toma. I'm so sorry," said Connie. She knelt on the floor in front of the boy and gently took the picture. It was a rough, lopsided circle with a squiggly blue beard and two angry slashes for eyes. Toma shuffled closer and sank into her arms. She held him close and he flung his arm around her, burying his face against her chest. She stroked his smooth golden hair. Tanya meandered over and knelt beside them. She tapped Toma's shoulder and he looked at her with a tear-streaked face. "You can have Brownie if you want." She held out the horse to him.
Toma shook his head and clung to Connie more tightly.
Looking a little relieved, Tanya skipped back over to the puzzle corner and flopped down to a half-completed puzzle of a unicorn.
"I know, it's not a lot to go on," said Ali. "But he comes from an area swarming with human traffickers—so if we can find a connection…. We could start to get justice for him and find the kids."
The other boy, tall, with brown hair, about eleven, refused to tell them anything. He sat down against the wall, staring into space.
A Romani girl about eight named Lexi came over with Tanya's coaxing and they both sat on the couch. Connie still held Toma, who sat on her lap fiddling with her hair.
"Did you see anything suspicious?" Connie asked.
The little girl shook her head vigorously, fear in her large green eyes.
Tanya galloped her horse across both their legs. "You saw a strange man too. Like the one who took Mina."
Lexi hid her face in her hands as if she could shut out the world.
"She came from the same area as Tanya," said Ali. "Not the same orphanage… she wasn't so fortunate. I hesitated to ask her… but she said she'd help when I asked Tanya." Tanya wrapped her arms around her friend, letting the horse drop between them on the couch.
Connie bounced Toma on her knee and he squealed with delight. He slid off then galloped around the room, jumping over the other boy's legs.
"Lexi," said Connie, leaning her forearms on her thighs. "what's your favorite color?"
Lexi peeked out from between her fingers.
"My favorite color is green," said Connie. "Though I like blue an awful lot too…" She glanced at Jason.
Lexi slid her hands down from her face and picked up Brownie, fiddling with its mane. "I like purple."
"That's a beautiful color."
"My…mommy used to have a purple rock. In her necklace. She said it was lucky." Tears welled up in her eyes and she swiped them away with her sleeve, looking into the distance.
"I know what it's like to lose your mommy. It's—hard." Her throat caught.
"Your mommy died too?"
Connie nodded. "I'll—never stop missing her. But I know I'll see her again." She glanced at Jason, tears filling her eyes. Jason squeezed her hand.
"I want to see her so much." She hugged Brownie tightly, shutting her eyes. "I want to hug her. I want to give her a new amethyst. Even if they're not lucky, they're pretty and that's why Mommy liked them."
"Maybe… if I see one in a store, I'll buy it for you."
Lexi blinked back tears. "Really?" She set the horse down and Tanya picked it up again, a little possessively.
Connie nodded. "I can't help but remember you if I see one."
"What about me?" said Tanya.
"What do you mean?"
"What makes you remember me?"
"Horses!"
Tanya's eyes lit up. "Maybe you can buy me a real horse!"
"Um…." She looked at Jason.
"Well, we do have enough money now…."
"You have lots of money?" said Lexi.
"We…have to use some of it to help people."
"Buying a horse would help me," said Tanya. "Then I wouldn't need a car."
"You don't need lots of money to help," said Connie. "You can tell us if you know anything about some bad people who hurt kids."
Lexi hunched down, swept back her dark hair. Her eyes darted to Tanya's. Tanya wrapped her arm around Lexi's shoulder.
"He can't hurt you anymore."
"I understand if it's too hard," said Connie.
"But… I want to help …" Her lips trembled.
"Just…whatever you can."
She buried her face in her hands again. Her fingers shook. "That man…. He—" Her voice caught.
"Just what he looked like… or if he…" She looked at Jason for help.
"If there were some places he would go… if he said anything about money—"
"He—he always had to pay someone some money. He was mad about it b-because it cost too much because I was… ex—ex….glue—"
"Exclusive?" said Jason.
She nodded, tears spilling from between her fingers. Jason hadn't been clear about the little girl's trauma, but now he knew and his heart broke for her. He wanted to gather her in his arms but it was out of the question after what she'd endured.
"Do you know who he paid?" asked Connie gently.
"H-he was on the phone sometimes. I saw a blond man once. He had a scar on his cheek, right here." She pressed her finger to her cheek, then her eyes widened as she looked at Jason. "Kind of like—that." She squinted, looking terrified, as if she wondered if it could be Jason. Jason couldn't stand the idea of being like a trafficker in any way. Though he couldn't help his scars….
"Jason would never hurt you," said Connie. "Someone hurt him, though."
"Th-that's what happened?" She ventured another look at Jason.
Jason nodded. "Someone…held me against my will, too. I was trapped. They…hurt me."
Lexi's eyes shadowed with empathy. "Oh. I…didn't know men can get hurt like that."
Jason almost jumped to correct her, to make sure she didn't think… it had been the same. But it wouldn't help her to point that out. And he'd rather have something in common with her than with a trafficker. He nodded. "Someone stronger can catch them, or if someone has a weapon…."
"The—the man…had a knife, too. He said…he would hurt me if I ran away. But one day all the food was gone so I ran and ran and didn't stop."
"That was—very brave, what you did."
"You're so brave, Lexi!" said Tanya and kissed her cheek. Lexi smiled. Jason was glad she had a friend like Tanya. That they had each other.
"This is really helpful, too," said Jason. "Not many people have a scar like that. It can narrow down the suspects."
"We know who the buyer is," said Ali. "But he's disappeared into the woodwork… If I had that scum in my hands…" His eyes narrowed and he clenched his fist. "If we get him, we can get more details about who he worked with. But for now…that's probably enough to go on. The kids need a break."
The assistant ushered the kids out while Ali stayed seated. "Well. That was harrowing. I wouldn't ask that of the kids, except if they can help others…. At least they're safe now. No one can ever hurt them again, I'll make sure of that."
"They'll go to good homes?" said Connie.
"Of course. The candidates are meticulously vetted. Speaking of which, would you like to see the kids' dorms, while they're outside? Then we can see about lunch."
Jason looked at Connie, who nodded slightly. "Sure," he said. He couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation. But it was best they learn as much as possible, and Ali was actually inviting them to know more….
"This way," said Ali, and he led them down the corridor. "Now, the kids' dorms are restricted; no one from the outside can access them without a key. We take security very seriously."
"Can the kids go out if they want?"
"With restrictions. There's always an adult present. At night, they're required to stay in their rooms for their own safety. During the day, we have mandatory, scheduled, and non-scheduled activities. They of course have to attend school during the school year. Right now, they're getting excited to go back to school, but that enthusiasm will melt away within a couple weeks." He smiled wryly and turned to unlock the door with a key card.
He ushered them into a broad room that mimicked the front entrance, only there were brighter colors on the floor, desk, and walls. Some beautiful pictures graced the airy space, which was empty of kids or adults at the moment.
Connie took a deep breath. "This is incredible."
Ali beamed. "I do try."
"You've overseen the building of this place?" said Jason.
"I wanted to plant a bright flower in the middle of this barren wasteland. Draw clients—and draw other beautiful flowers to join us, perhaps."
"How do you manage your business and your charities at the same time?"
"Manage—that's the key word." He tapped his temple. "I have a talent for it. I decided to put the excess to good use… not just for personal gain."
Ali led them past the desk and showed them the first apartment. There was a bunk bed, two desks, a chest for toys. The wall was decorated with butterflies and stuffed animals were strewn over the beds.
Either they were wrong about Ali, or he was creating all of this for show…. While he could've done something less involved and more ostentatious….
He led them past several other rooms then showed them Lexi and Tanya's room. There was a big rocking horse by the window; one bed was adorned with purple. "They've become close since they arrived a month ago," said Ali. "It's helped both of them heal. You thought it was hard to draw anything out of Lexi. When she first came here, she wouldn't speak at all."
"I don't blame her," said Jason.
"We didn't even know she was trafficked until today. Believe me, we'll take measures to intensify her therapy. She was picked up on the street, thin, dirty, no one knew where she'd come from and she wouldn't tell them."
"You've already helped so much," said Connie.
"It's our goal to help these kids as much as possible. With Lexi, it's Tanya's friendship that's done more than anything."
"A good friend can help a lot. I wish…." Her eyes took on a faraway look.
"Yes, Mrs. Whittaker?"
"I wish…they get a good home. The best."
"They deserve the best."
"Will they go together?"
"I hope so."
Ali led them to a room in the back. The door looked like a service door, blank and metal, unlike the wooden doors of the hallway.
Despite himself, Jason's heart pounded hard in his chest. He took deep breaths, trying to steady his heart. But he couldn't shake the feeling Ali was going to trap them… He stepped in front of Connie, shielding her from Ali.
Ali opened the door with a metal key. Swept his hand out in front of him. "After you."
"Maybe we should…" Jason backed away. Connie stepped beside him, looked up at him quizzically. She stepped toward the door.
Jason grasped her arm. "Don't."
"What's wrong?"
"Maybe we should leave."
"Without lunch?" said Ali. "I'd love to treat you to some of Muldavia's best."
"Well…." He needed to keep calm. To forge forward with the mission. If he was in danger, it was bad enough, but Connie…. If Ali happened to have nefarious designs…. to trap them, sell them…..
"Let me just show you this first." Ali smiled ingratiatingly.
"I'd…it's…" He struggled to find an excuse not to go in the room, or to calm his mind—not likely he would be trapping them… or was it—
Ali leaned back against the door. "Ah, I get it. You mentioned something in there. I wondered if it was just for Lexi's sake… but…" He gestured toward Jason's face. Jason flinched. "You really were trapped. Someone did that to you."
Jason nodded. His hands were trembling; he couldn't quell them. So he clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms, pain striking through them.
Connie laid a hand on his arm and it steadied him. "He's…not always best in small spaces. Especially if there's no light."
"Then let me change that." Ali stepped into the room and turned on the light. With several clicks, lights turned on, revealing a vast room. Filled with boxes of many different sizes. Along the closer wall, there was a row of desks and computers.
Jason took a shaky breath. It was as prosaic a place as possible, nothing hiding in the shadows.
"This is our tech room," said Ali. "And the warehouse where we keep all the toys. I have a secret. I buy the trending toys ahead of time, so I'm sure to have the best toys for the kids in case they run out."
"You really go over and above," said Connie, stepping into the room, looking at the computers.
"Those are state of the art, too," said Ali. "Right now, our crew is at lunch. They monitor the kids, make sure no one gets hurt. They search for kids in danger, sometimes at badly managed orphanages, and bring them here."
Jason, trying to shed the remnants of his panic, stepped into the room beside Connie. There's nothing to be afraid of, he assured himself. But he couldn't entirely shake that feeling, even with the brightness of the lights, the vastness of the room…. Perhaps my intuition is right. Though it's hard to tell because my PTSD sees danger lurking everywhere…
"Are you all right?" said Ali.
"I think I just…need some air."
"Then let's get you some." He took them out the back, to a stretch of grass and concrete next to the driveway. It looked out on a shabby storefront with gloomy apartments above it. But it made Jason feel better to be outside again.
"So, where would you like to go?" said Ali. "There's a fabulous Greek restaurant not far away. Oh, and you haven't lived until you've eaten at Elma's. Best Turkish restaurant in Europe. And of course there's the American restaurant—it's sometimes funny to see what most Muldavians think Americans are like."
"You are familiar with America?"
"Of course. You can't have a first-rate business without dealings with America. I hope to go international someday." His eyes took on an enraptured look, as if he could see the fruition of his dreams.
"What's your business called?"
"Hawk's Appliances. I was looking forward from the get-go. For an international audience, you need to use English."
Jason turned to Connie. "Do you want to go to lunch, or go back? I think you said you were tired before…." His back to Ali, he tried to hint to Connie with his eyes. He could come back later; if his intuition was right, there was something fishy going on beneath the surface. He just had to find out what it was…keep his cool enough to not get killed or captured. Not let his guard down but also make sure he didn't give himself away. It was good in a way that Jason had a plausible explanation to Ali for his trepidation about the room… although it was rather mortifying to reveal a weakness like that to a possible enemy. But as Ali probably knew, PTSD wasn't always rational, so he wouldn't know that Jason suspected him.
"Well… I'm getting pretty hungry. And I'm not very tired yet."
"Are you sure?" She was kind of contradicting her position earlier.
"We need to know more. To help the kids."
I suppose… if it's in the open…. Ali can't do much…. I still don't like the idea of him being near Connie… even knowing she exists. After this…. She'll have to stay home. I can't force her but… she'll probably want to. She hasn't been comfortable with the investigation….
"How about the Turkish restaurant?" said Connie. "I've never been to one."
"Good choice," said Ali. "I'm not biased." He chuckled.
Ali summoned his limo and they climbed in, Jason and Connie facing Ali. He checked his phone for a few minutes and Connie slid her hand into Jason's. Whispered in his ear, "It'll be all right." Jason wished he could believe that….
"So," said Ali abruptly, looking up from his phone, "are you okay with small spaces like this?"
Jason's chest tensed again. Thanks for reminding me. "Yes. I mean, a car's better than a room without windows."
"I'm sorry about that. If I'd known—"
"You couldn't have known."
Ali leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, his eyes sharp. "If I may ask, what happened?"
Jason swallowed. The walls closed in, despite the windows, which were darkly tinted. He fought to keep his composure, to keep his breathing from going out of control. "It… I'd rather not talk about it."
"Totally understandable. I only ask because… the kids have experienced some horrible things. If you work with them, it might help you have insight into the kids' experiences. And if you open up about it, they'll see they're not alone. Your scars can heal others', and in turn, they can help heal you. I've gone through some trauma myself, though it pales in comparison to some of these kids'. I was relatively older when I was out on the street. I learned to fend for myself pretty quickly and was savvy enough to hide from seemingly well-meaning strangers and avoid things that seemed too good to be true. Never experienced the worst, praise be to God."
"So…you're a believer?"
"I go to the huge mosque on thirty-fourth street. How else would I gain all this good fortune? Allah is with me." He grinned. "So. Take it from me, it can help to share your experiences with the kids."
"What about…reliving trauma, opening old wounds?"
"Be sensitive to how the kid's reacting. Don't push them too far. As for me, I've found some genuine friendships among the children. The closest are the ones who've bonded through trauma. I've even kept contact with some of them after adoption. We shared a similar early life—orphaned, lived as street kids for a few years, survived on what we could steal or from the kindness of strangers. Got beaten up by some bigger kids, nothing much more serious than that… except I have seen some pretty horrible things second-hand. Deaths… the degradation that can happen in the poorest areas…. What the privileged couldn't dream of. The ones who never even set foot on some of the worst neighborhoods.
"In your case…you would have the closest bond with kids who had experienced similar. You were trapped, you said?"
Jason nodded, looking out the window, wishing desperately Ali would abandon this topic. Maybe if he said something, Ali would stop pestering him. He didn't want Ali to get the wrong impression… that he'd been anything close to trafficked… although it was enough degradation to have been caught, imprisoned against his will, tortured mercilessly – even by such a powerful adversary as Gray.
"It was just… I was an agent," said Jason, wanting to get this over with.
"An agent?" said Ali, his eyes sparking with interest.
"I had some secrets… someone wanted them. They caught me off guard, knocked me out. Tied me up… tried to get the information. Using some…brutal methods." He tried to detach himself from the words as he said them, as if it had happened to a different person. He could do that if he didn't go into the details…
"And you resisted?"
Jason nodded, looking out the window, sweeping back a strand of hair that had fallen over his forehead. His hand was still shaking… He didn't like the idea of showing weakness in front of a potential enemy; Ali was unknowingly stabbing to the heart of it.
"Ah, that's admirable. To never give in, despite what they did to you. You have other, more hidden, scars, I take it."
Connie took his hand, clasping his arm in hers protectively, glaring at Ali.
"It's… I'd rather not talk about it."
"But they should be a badge of honor. If, as you say, you resisted. I have many scars myself." Ali rolled back his sleeve to show a violent slash across his wrist. "Gotten defending a fellow street kid." He unbuttoned his collar, revealing a burn mark across his collarbone. "A gang leader held me down, burned me with a cigar." He rolled up his pant leg to show his ankle and a crosshatch of scars. "Broke my ankle jumping off a building, running away from police. You see, scars are like a map of personal history. If it's pain you've overcome, it's something to be proud of."
Jason nodded, not disagreeing with him. But it still held an undercurrent of shame. There was nothing particularly glamorous about being held down and beaten, whipped, burned… he didn't feel very triumphant, although he had resisted. He knew he would have broken in the end.
"Ah, I think I would've liked to be a secret agent in another life," said Ali. "The thrill of it… I'm where I'm supposed to be. Still… it has a certain allure. Some of my talents would transfer. Such as the ability to dissemble. As a businessman, you always have to have a game face… keep your cool. Which I'm sure has helped you as an agent, including during your darkest hours."
"I…might have tried to be a James Bond kind of agent," said Jason. "Not always with the greatest success…"
Ali waved an arm. "You're too modest! For one thing, to resist under torture—not everyone could do that. Your scars are badges of honor, and you should wear them proudly. Even the scars that the children bear—it's something they've overcome."
Jason gave a rueful look. "Connie has told me as much." He looked at her; she smiled encouragingly. "It's…just hard to think of…." He took a deep breath, forging into some of the details reluctantly— "being tied down… beaten…cut into… as anything other than something to be hidden."
"I suppose that's understandable," said Ali. "But these kids have been through worse. What I tell them is that it's not their shame, it's the shame of the one who hurt them."
"That's… a good way to look at it." He looked out the window; they were passing some high rises in the center of Rakima. "It is the fault of the ones who hurt them, not their own. Still, they were children. I was…captured by someone I should have fought off… and I probably would have given in, if I hadn't bene rescued."
"Everyone has their breaking point. It would be harder, as a grown man, to shake that off—to blame it on anything other than weakness. Still, there's always someone stronger…." He looked out the window pensively. "There are different kinds of strength. It's mental strength that's most important when you're held against your will. But some things are harder to shake off… what I saw on the streets, what I've seen with these kids. You've never experienced anything similar, have you?" Ali's eyes narrowed, searching.
"Not… not beyond what I've told you," said Jason, feeling wrung out, wanting to escape. "I don't want to go into the details. It was just—" A shudder ran through him. "Knives—whip—beatings…. A nail…." He took a sharp breath, gathered his left hand to him, feeling the rough scars there. Pain stabbed his hand, as if it had only been yesterday. He half expected blood to leak through his fingers.
"That's all?"
Isn't that enough? "A cigarette burn…. Burns from knives…" Pain slashed through the knife wound on his chest. "Gunshot…."
"I suppose that would do it. But the other things I've seen…. it's a wonder some of these kids survive. It's good for them to know someone's experienced something similar and gotten through it. It…can be hard for some of the boys to talk to women. But for a man who's gone through the same thing…."
Jason's heart twinged with sympathy. He wished he could help them…. Though he was glad he didn't have to experience what they did. It might help but… he had to be able to help in other ways. Even to have been tortured, held down…. There was some similarity… but of course not nearly to that extent. "The farthest it's gone… for me…." He swallowed. It was hard enough to talk about this, and it had barely been anything. "A… I was kissed. Against my will."
Ali smirked. "No, that's not quite the same thing."
Heat rose to Jason's face. It had not seemed a small matter, even though the logical side of his mind had told him it was. The kiss had been stolen. When he was trapped, vulnerable. By Elena, who had tricked him… he still felt the shame of having fallen for her. And Marisa… she'd been about to sell him. Who knew how far it could've gone… what could have happened if he'd been sold. To be used for someone else's pleasure… with zero regard for your own feelings… the horror of that… he'd just experienced a taste of it. To feel so deeply from those minor events… he couldn't imagine what the victims had gone through. It was true it wasn't their fault. It wasn't his fault. But he couldn't shake the shame of the kiss wrested from him – just a few days after his wedding, when his lips should have only been kept for one. He was shaken that Ali could make light of it. Even though it was far from the worst… it was still wrong. Still mattered.
Connie pressed her hand over his. "He was stolen—almost sold. I can't imagine how someone could do that to him. It could've… been much worse."
"That's good it didn't go further. For your sake. Such horrors need to become things of the past—these kids should never have had to endure it in the first place. Let's make this the last generation that has to, shall we?"
Jason nodded, all his words dried up inside him. He felt drained…. Connie had mentioned leaving before—maybe they should. He could get Connie to safety. He didn't feel like coming back himself…. But they needed to find out more….
"Ah! Here we are!" said Ali.
They stopped in front of a restaurant with "Elma's" emblazoned across the front of a brick façade. Jason climbed out into the light and heat and felt the cold and fear burn away. Ali ran his fingers through his hair, his jacket a little askew.
During lunch, Ali was easygoing and lighthearted. No insinuations or prodding dark corners. It was only when he ordered a bottle of wine that he began to pry Connie for the reason she wouldn't drink…. It was Jason's turn to defend her while Ali laughed it off. He went back to normal like nothing had happened, though Connie seemed shaken, since she'd nearly revealed the miscarriage… Jason held her hand the rest of the dinner.
Ali was enthusiastic about partnering with them and told them he'd let them know if he saw anything suspicious. "I've been waiting for the opportunity to do something about this," he said. "Seeing the problem so rampant… kids torn from their families… it's an urgent issue. It's time I applied my talents to it."
Jason felt good about the meeting, for the most part; he felt like he had another ally in the fight. But there was an undercurrent of unease… something just wasn't right here. But he needed proof, more than just an unsettled feeling….
Ali told them that he needed to get back to work. "But if you like, I can call ahead for you to visit the farm."
"The farm?" said Connie.
"The place for at-risk teens. They might have something for you. They can reveal in more detail than kids can—but they're also more guarded. If you can pry something out of them, I'd be surprised. It might be worth it though—some of those kids have been through a rough time, so they might've seen something relevant. I'll send you the directions."
Ali glided off to his limo, not before brushing Connie's shoulder lightly with his hand. Jason bristled, but the man had already disappeared inside, hidden by the tinted windows.
Connie took a step forward, away from the shadow of the awning, scanning the road. She didn't look particularly upset, but Jason shook with anger. "How dare he."
She looked at him, her brow furrowed. "What?"
"He—he—"
"Oh." She brushed her shoulder where Ali had touched her, looking a little self-conscious. "He didn't mean anything by it."
He stepped close to her. "If it were by itself…. Well, maybe I'd still feel the same way. But after how he acted earlier…."
She shrugged. "I think it's just his way."
"I don't like it."
She smiled. "It's cute how you're jealous." She pressed her palm to his cheek. "But I don't think he…. I didn't sense he was, you know, flirting. Or trying very hard, anyway."
"But he's a—" He bit back the word 'trafficker'.
"Maybe."
"You…think he's innocent?"
"I don't know. Probably not—after what Saul and Leila said. I'm… trying to pretend he isn't. For the mission. So I can make it through. I suppose I don't have to now…."
"And what he did to you—asking about…."
"Maybe he's just nosy."
"It could be passed off as that… but he might have some other agenda…."
"Should you have told him you're an agent?"
"Well, by now it's an open record. I can't hide that part of myself anymore… any more than I can hide these scars." His fingers brushed the scar on his hand, now devoid of phantom pains.
"Should we go to the farm?"
"Well… Maybe you'd better go back to the palace."
"Jason—I want to stay with you."
"It could be a trap."
"Then I don't want you going, either."
"I…have to see this through…."
"Maybe we should see if it's a real place." She stepped back and sat on the bench in front of the restaurant and looked on her phone. Sure enough, the result popped up on the map. And there were reviews of it—five stars mostly. Unless they were all fake…. There were pictures too, of smiling kids among cute animals.
"I think… this place is safe enough," she said. "It might help our investigation…."
"Then we should go. It's not directly investigating Ali… but I want to do that part alone."
She hailed a taxi. It took them only as far as a car rental place, because taxis only served within city limits. Connie drove the car out onto the country roads, guided by the GPS. The rolling hills to the west of Rakima spread out in a vast array of green, farmlands dotted by small woods and trees, the fields waving with ripening corn and wheat. Jason was struck by a strange sense of déjà vu, then he realized this was the general direction he and Tasha had gone on the way out of town on his first mission. He hadn't noticed much, and it had been April instead of August. But he still couldn't shake the feeling—he remembered the thrill of danger and the rush of fear—the shooting pain of the bullet through his ankle… his recovery amid the kindness of the Romani… the frenzy of the journey to the Czech border and the delight of discovering the true king before being captured, betrayed by Elena, brought back to Rakima to almost witness the king's death. Almost unconsciously, his hand lifted to his chest and pressed to his heart. Roderick had taken the bullet meant for him. Shot from Elena's gun. He'd almost died…. How did you repay a debt like that? He now knew what it was like to get shot near your heart…. He probably bore a similar scar to Jason. Jason could've died then, never known Connie… He had done something similar, stepping in front of Nadira. He didn't feel like Nadira owed him anything… and the king wouldn't see it that way either. It wasn't the same, but to be here, to do something… to help find Luna would at least be a part of repaying what he could never repay.
"I'm sorry," said Connie. She shook her head rather exasperatedly.
"For what?"
"I should've defended you more. I guess I was just…surprised he would go that far…"
"What do you mean?"
"Ali! What he was doing to you. Kept asking you about your scars. I should've told him to mind his own business." She looked at him. "I saw what it did to you."
"It's okay. I shouldn't let it bother me."
"Yes, you should! You go through it again each time, don't you."
"Sort of…"
"Even if it was for a good cause, it's not worth hurting you like that. It's your business if you're going to use your trauma to help the kids. I don't know why he was trying to force you into it…."
"He…really wants to help the kids get better…. I don't blame him."
"But he should've seen how much it hurt you."
"Well…It doesn't matter how much it hurts me…. I should be over it. The kids have been through worse… I should be willing to use my trauma to help them. I shouldn't be so selfish, so…weak as to try not to think of it because…." He lifted his hand; it was shaking. He clenched it into a fist but it still shook.
"After what you've been through. It wasn't nothing. I mean—that's the point. Because it was so…horrible, you have an idea of what the kids went through."
"That's the thing… I don't, really. Maybe he shouldn't have even tried to go there, for how minor it is."
"I didn't like how he made light of it." She took the corner a little too fast and the tires squealed. Grimly she turned the car back on track. "Don't let him get to you. It might not be like what happened to the kids… but you still know what it's like to be in pain, to be held down….. You know what it's like to keep living with it." She glanced at him. "You know what it's like to get flashbacks, to never totally feel safe…."
"I'm a trained agent. It was just a few hours of torture….compared to days and years of abuse…."
"It still hurt you. Doesn't matter if you were an agent, it still… you can't control how much something affects you." Tears hovered in her eyes. "You can't really know what someone else is feeling… but you can guess…. And I suppose it might help you see how someone else felt. It might help you to help them… but that has to be your choice." She raked back her hair from her forehead, glanced at him again. A tear streaked down her cheek but her eyes flashed. "And you were almost trafficked. He was right it wasn't the same… but I didn't like how he totally dismissed it. I… didn't know that it… that it even went as far as it did. You just told me you were bound, roughed up a bit, then got rescued before anything could happen."
"I…didn't think it was worth mentioning. And I didn't want you to think I'd…betrayed you." It hit him that those statements were slightly contradictory… of course a betrayal mattered. If it mattered that much, he should have told her.
"Of course you didn't betray me! You were held against your will. They forced you. You didn't…choose to kiss them, did you?"
He shook his head, partly immersed in the strange half-numb feeling in the direct aftermath of the stolen kiss.
"There you go then. You could never betray me."
"I still feel…. I don't know. It shouldn't have happened. I should've fought harder. Never let anyone else's lips touch mine but yours."
She looked at him, pain in her eyes. "If you'd fought harder, they would've hurt you more. It's not your fault at all. That's what victims think and it's never what the bad guys think. They were the ones that…took something precious from you. Something you'd never have given otherwise."
Tears sprang to his eyes. It had been a shock… he'd been bound. In their power. It was true there wasn't much he could have done…. He'd escaped only to get captured again. And there was something about it…. The kiss was shocking, because it was unexpected—because he was already in an impossible situation. And…because it was an intimate thing….something that should only be given willingly… even though it hadn't gone very far. He knew a very small sliver of the amount of shame it must feel to be degraded, crushed under someone else's will… something beautiful twisted by lust, by greedy lips and hands…. He shuddered. He'd tried to block it out… had blocked out some of it, until it came hurtling back. In the interest of full disclosure, he told her about the rest of it. It wasn't like Ali's prying into his scars… he was doing this willingly, for her.
He looked away, out the window, not wanting to face her still as he said it. A farm dog barked at them as they passed, transient.
A word Marisa had used. He nearly choked at the thought…. Marisa's hands wandering over his face, in his hair…. He cringed at how he hadn't resisted as she explored his scars, kissing them, following them downward…. He'd lashed out, then, not wanting to betray Connie by not resisting. And she'd hit him. But the pain was a welcome change to the unwanted touch… and he'd brought up the memories of Connie… her kisses over his scars, assuaging their pain and the horror of this… he hadn't known he would see her again, but even that much was enough, and never enough….
She listened wide-eyed as he told her, almost veering off the road a few times. She turned off onto a gravel road, which the GPS told them to follow, and stopped along the edge. Reached out for him and gathered him in her arms…. Wrapped her arm around his shoulder and held him, her arm pressed tightly beneath his throat and she kissed the top of his head and her tears fell into his hair. A twinge shot through his heart and tears stung his eyes then spilled from them, flowing silently down his cheeks. He hadn't known he'd needed this until now… total acceptance and love in the face of what he'd seen as a betrayal… but had only been the attempts of the enemy to take something priceless from him. But they couldn't. Because those kisses had been hollow. Worse—dark, devoid of any substance. While what he had with Connie was love beyond imagining…. And the shadows paled in comparison to that light, swept away by its brilliance. Her kisses erased the stolen ones; they only meant something in that they'd tried to eclipse something precious but failed miserably. That person didn't matter… had nothing left but a hollow parody of attraction, and incomparable to anything so infinitely wonderful as love.
Still… the shadows remained, shredded remnants which tugged at him. Perhaps, like scars, they would never go away completely. He just had to take comfort in the fact that they could never taint his love in the least, because they had nothing in common with it. He just wished he would've resisted more…. He had been exhausted and in despair, but perhaps it wouldn't have gone that far if he hadn't been so passive…. "I should've resisted with all my strength…." He said, half to himself. And he was surprised when she overheard.
"Was this when you were chained up?"
He nodded. She swept his hair back comfortingly. "There wasn't much you could do then!"
"More than just…submit to it." Disgust filtered through him again.
"You did fight her off, though."
"Not…not right away."
She buried her hand in his hair, swirling her fingers gently in it. "Hey. It's—it's shocking, when that happens. Sometimes you….can't react right away. I know what that's like…"
A bolt of lightning stabbed through his heart and he shot upright. "What—did someone—" The shock blinded him; it felt like someone was choking him. "They—" He couldn't finish the thought. "Dared to… t- I had no idea – Connie, they—" He reached for her.
She shook her head. "It's no big deal." She laughed nervously. "Well…. It is. With what I've been telling you. But it wasn't… didn't go that far either. When I was a kid… barely a teenager. You know what school can be like. It was just another kid… I was wiped out after a soccer game and he… just started touching me… it took a bit for me to… get over my shock to—jump out of the way and tell him to stop. But my…body and my voice could barely work… it was like being caught in a bad dream. I mean, the kid probably barely knew it was wrong but…"
"He should've known by then…. If kids don't learn consent by that age…" He clasped her hand gently. "I'm sorry."
She closed her eyes, pursed her lips. "I'm just… glad it didn't go any further. I've had unwanted attentions from teachers—"
"What."
"But it didn't go any further than… well… what Ali did today."
"I'll kill him. I'll kill all of them." His fists clenched, his fingernails jabbing into his palms. He barely saw the sweep of the green hills outside, the winding reddish road through it—it all blurred together, rage striking through his heart that someone had dared to touch his precious Connie… dared to try to claim her without having any right. No one had a right to anyone else… and consent could only be given, not taken. "If anyone—even looks at you wrong—I'll take them down. I mean it."
She squeezed his hand. Smiled. "You're so beautiful when you're angry."
A laugh shook him in spite of himself. "I suppose… killing them isn't an option. But it should be. You belong to no one."
"Only you. Forever."
"I just wish—I could totally protect you, no matter what happened. Go back in time and—teach those guys a lesson who dared look at you wrong."
She took a deep breath. "Mm…. I would kind of like to see that. But…at least you could protect me. I don't have a chance to protect you if you're in danger. I've felt so helpless…."
"I couldn't even do anything in those circumstances…."
"Yes, but… at least you could do something. I can't even help with the investigation. I'm a burden to it."
"No, you're not. If nothing else—I love being with you every second."
"But if it's dangerous…I'd probably get in the way, get you hurt instead of protecting you. Too bad I'm not more like Tasha…."
"Don't say that."
"She helped you back when you were here before. I'm totally useless."
"It takes time to learn, that's all."
"I'm far from a natural."
"Maybe… but you can learn certain aspects of it. Maybe you don't have a natural talent for investigation, doesn't mean you can't learn it. I don't think you'd even want to be an agent, right?"
She nodded. "But I'd like to help with things like this…."
"Then this is good on-the-job training. As long as it's not dangerous—and we don't plan on going into danger anyway—then this is the best way to learn."
"I'm with one of the best. But still…. I just want to be able to help in case… something bad does happen."
"Well, you can learn some of that too. I can teach you some basic self-defense…."
Her eyes sparked. "Maybe I should learn that… I thought I would be totally hopeless no matter what, but something is better than nothing…. Just in case. I won't be able to fight off a bunch of bad guys… but maybe I could like kick someone away or something… enough time to get away—"
He nodded. "It's as much about muscle memory as anything. Reflexes. Training your brain to react in a certain situation, and for your body to cooperate precisely. That's what gets you out of tight spots… of course, you can never totally anticipate every situation…. But you can get an edge if you've got a repertoire of skills you can draw on, a premium package of moves you can use when you need to. I should've probably taught you sooner. You never know what might happen… and you've done well thinking on your feet before. Like jumping off the roof when Gray captured you, rescuing me with the car in Paraguay…. You might do better than you think."
"I know I'll never be to your level…. But if nothing else, I could help some kids."
"You did really well back there with the kids."
"Well, I was kind of blundering through it…."
"Don't sell yourself short."
"I'm familiar with kids… But I'm less experienced with kids who've gone through trauma."
"As long as you're gentle with them…. Empathetic… I don't see you having a problem with that."
"Well… if someone seemed uncomfortable, I'd back off right away. Unlike someone else we know…"
Jason wondered whether Ali could've had a more nefarious motive for his questions but couldn't think of one. He shrugged it off, not wanting to dwell on something unpleasant. He and Connie shared a kiss, (though he couldn't help but long desperately for more), and then Connie drove off down the road until they reached a dead end.
The entrance was shrouded with trees but once they passed the first few hundred yards, the property opened up to a broad front yard, a large white house shaded by a few oak trees, and long red outbuildings scattered behind it, surrounded by white picket fence.
On the way up the gravel driveway, two dogs bounded out to greet them. A black lab and a large black German shepherd, similar to the ones Roderick had had at his mountain cabin. Connie slowed so as not to hit the dogs—the lab dashed in front of the car. The shepherd trotted alongside, looking at them with sharp protectiveness. Connie stopped near the large garage to the left of the house and looked at Jason. "That big one looks kind of scary…."
"Well, probably good to have a guard dog…. Ali called ahead so they should know we're here. We could call them…."
"Maybe it's a trap and the dog's part of it."
A smile tugged at his lips. "Maybe." He could think of worse traps…
Just then, a woman with short brown hair came running up to the car. She directed the dogs away; threw a stick and the lab went to retrieve it. Then she motioned to them to come out. Her face was tearstained. She looked distraught, her hair ruffled as if she'd been running her hands through it.
Dread flooding his heart. He climbed out of the car, Connie cautiously following suit on the other side.
"I'm sorry about the dogs," said the woman in heavily accented English. "They won't hurt you…. they only attack real danger. That's why…." She shook her head, looking off to the distance, a tear streaking down her cheek. "I just wish I could look for him but I have to stay with the others. Have you seen him?"
"Seen who?"
"A little boy. He's gone."