CHAPTER THIRTY


Petrie stayed away for the rest of the afternoon after he put Ben back to bed
with a few stories to read him goodnight.


Darren stayed out and I was left, locked, in the suite with a sleeping child
a wall away.


Dinner was delivered, but the guards smiled tightly before removing
themselves and I heard the door lock from the outside once again.


It was a cell, there was no doubt, but it was a cushioned prison. And the
view was spectacular. I searched, briefly, for an escape route but I saw none.
My only hope was to return to previously played life and succumb to Marcus'
blinding love once more.


"Are you my daddy's friend?"


I turned and saw a nine year old's hesitation in his open doorway. He was
dark with black hair and Latino features.


I knelt to the ground and replied evenly, "Hi. I used to be one of your
daddy's friends, yes."


He never met my gaze, but watched the floor instead.


"You're not anymore?" He nearly whispered with a hand to the doorknob.


I wanted to hug him, but I knew only the closest were awarded with that
right. I didn't know much about Autism, but I knew they sometimes resisted any
cuddling or hugging. And glimpsing behind him to his room, I realized that he
had an obsession with old books. Everyone had tattered spines and everyone smelt
of dust with crinkled yellow pages to turn.


"You like books, huh?" I murmured, softly.


"If you're not my daddy's friend then you shouldn't be here."


"Well, I'm here for the reason that you are." I sat down and crossed my legs
in front of me. Ben followed suit and we must've been a sight if anyone had
walked inside as we chose to sit where there were no seats to sit upon. "You
see, I'm here waiting for your daddy. I think you are too."


Ben nodded and his arm jerked slightly. "Ben's a bad boy."


"What?" I frowned.


"Ben was good, but he got taken from school and he can't read his favorite
book anymore. Ben wasn't good."


"No, no."


"Yes, yes." He jerked again and his head against the wall.


"Oh." I reached out for him automatically, but he scooted back and jerked
again. "Are you okay?" I moved back.


"Not good, not good." He muttered and rocked back and forth.


"Oh. You weren't like this with Petrie."


At the name, he jerked again.


"Um…" Helpless, I sat there for a moment. The battle between getting help or
finding what I went there in the first place both tore at me. Finally, feeling
my soul condemned, I stayed and whispered, "What's your favorite book?"


"It's a list. A list," head jerk, "of names. My uncle's name is in there."
His arm thrashed around as the rocking increased. Suddenly, he stopped rocking
and walked to his bed. He crawled up and reached for a book. As it tipped off
the highest shelf, he caught it and sat back down with his back to the wall.


Tentatively, I walked forward and sat, perched on the edge of the bed.


Ben ignored me, but the closer I moved, his head inched closer and closer to
the book. Finally, his forehead touched the pages as I leaned against the wall
beside him.


Calm, I asked, "Can I read that to you? It looks like a lot of words."


He ignored me so I whispered, smoothly, again, "I could read and you could
just listen. It's fun to hear books from someone else's perspective."


I held my hand out and it was steady.


I waited, my breath held, and my eyes dry from any blinking until finally the
book slowly tipped into my hands.


Gently and slowly, he placed the book into my hands as I kept them still
until it was opened to the right page and in front of me.


Ben scooted to the bed's corner and I started to read the words outloud.


It was a magical story about a little lion cub that was left behind in the
desert. The cub's name was Henry and the world didn't make sense to Henry, but
he stayed there anyway because he didn't know how to get home. He couldn't make
friends with the lizards and desert bugs because he knew his already had family
and friends where he was supposed to live, but he didn't know how to get there.
And so Henry grew up, a lion in the desert, alone and misunderstood because his
heart yearned for what no one else understood.


At the end of the story, Ben whispered, "Henry never saw the desert."


"What?"


"He never saw the desert. He…he only saw the jungle, where his family
was."


"He got home at the end. It was a happy ending."


"No." Ben shook his head and his hand jerked against the wall. "He was still
in the desert, but they made us think that he got home."


"What?"


"On that last page, there's a bunch of yellow."


I looked; and there was. It was a picture of a grown lion, lying on a bed of
leaves and vines in a jungle, and the lion's head was raised as light shone down
from the upper righthand corner.


"He's alone." Ben scrambled closer and pointed to the picture. "And that's
the desert sun. See, he's not in the jungle. He just thinks he is. He's still
there, but he's not there."


"How old are you?" I asked, hoarsely as I didn't see a nine year old child
before me.


He met my eyes, for the first time, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was
Henry and living in the desert when no one really understood that his home was
elsewhere.


"Ben is nine." He said softly.


"Does you know where your favorite book is?" I asked.


He shook his head, "She took it. I don't know where it is, but my daddy won't
be happy with Ben."


"You didn't do anything wrong."


"I must've because they took the book away from Ben. Ben was a good boy until
this morning."


"You speak very well for a nine year old." For a nine year old with
Autism.


Ben didn't reply. He looked down at the picture of Henry in his mind's jungle
and sighed dramatically. "The lion thinks that he shouldn't be in the desert,
but that's where he lived. He knows that he's supposed to be somewhere else, but
he can't get there because he doesn't know how to get there. Henry feels his
other family and that's why he doesn't like anyone in the desert. He's not
supposed to be friends with him and he can't tell them what he sees because they
won't understand. He's not supposed to be in the desert, but he is.
And—"
"And he's in the wrong place at the wrong time and…"


"He can't tell anyone because they wouldn't understand and they'd make him
think it's not right. That's he's wrong, but you see, he isn't wrong, he's—"


"Not where he's supposed to be." I finished for him, knowing that he'd
continue to speak about the same topic. "Who has your favorite book?"


"She does. The lady." Ben replied and pointed to Henry's picture again. As he
burst onto another rendition of the lion's misunderstanding, I smiled sadly and
looked over his room.


There were piles upon piles upon piles of books. And only someone who knew
where Ben would keep the book would have a chance to find it. Even if Jace had
followed our plan accordingly and he'd led them on a chase, giving me time with
Ben, I don't know if I could've taken the book in the end.


He either spoke or he didn't speak, but it was obvious how he had wronged his
father and how that bothered a nine-year-old innocent.


Nothing happened how it was supposed to have happened, and I was forced to
swallow Petrie's explanation.


Jace really had sacrificed me and I wondered if Ben ever had the book in the
first place.


A gentle knock against the opened door sent Ben squealing as he shot off the
bed. Instead of the launching hug from before, he ran past Petrie's looming legs
and darted away.


Petrie sighed and leaned against the doorway, "He's gotten a lot better over
the years, but he's upset. He thinks that he's done something wrong and Marcus
is going to throw him away."


"Throw him away?"


"It's what he'll feel like." Petrie gestured towards Ben.


"He doesn't know what's going on. He think it's his fault."


Petrie didn't reply.


"That's not right." I said faintly. "He's just a little boy who loves his
dad."


"He got caught in the middle, just like you did between Marcus and Lanser."
Petrie told me. "You know, I know that Marcus used this whole Job scenario,
which got you to Ben, but you can't help but wonder right now. Who's God and
who's not? Who's Job, really? Maybe Marcus really wanted you away from Lanser
and he wanted to expose Lanser for the fraud that he is. Maybe he scheduled that
meeting knowing that Lanser couldn't get there in time and would offer you up as
bait."


The thought had occurred to me, but I said nothing on that matter, but I did
say, "You know, the whole lesson from that story was that Job didn't believe
because of the rewards that he was getting. Ben doesn't love Marcus because he
gets a whole bunch of books to read or a team of therapists to work with. Ben
loves Marcus he's his dad and he's hurting right now because he doesn't
understand how his father, who's so 'godly', offered him up as a stupid riddle
to trap me. No one's God. No one's Satan. And no one's even Job, but the only
one who shouldn't be in this is Ben."


Petrie looked like he was about to say something, but he changed his mind and
closed his mouth. "Come on, sport. Time for bed."


Ben grimaced, but went obediently.


Petrie moved inside after him and closed the door. Twenty minutes later he
came back out and informed me, "Marcus is running late. He got held up at
airport. He sent word that you should go to bed. He'll wake you when he gets
here."


"Rueban." I used his god-given name as he walked towards the door.


Petrie stopped and arched an eyebrow.


"I've seen Marcus with him once and he never acted like you did just now. How
did Marcus adopt Ben?"


Petrie smiled, a flash of sadness blinked in his eyes, but he only said, "I'm
the one who brought Ben to Marcus. And, trust me, I never thought he'd adopt the
kid, but I'm glad he did." As he opened the door, he called out, "And don't ever
call me that again or I might forget who's woman you are."


At the door closed with an echoing click and I heard the lock fall back into
place. Sighing, I turned the lights off and went to the window. I saw the city's
landscape stretched out before me and I rested my forehead against the glass,
for a moment, as I wished for an explanation of where I was and how it could've
ended differently, but the truth was that I didn't have time to wallow on those
wishes.


If Jace had left me, it was up to me to get back out.


I was back in my prisoned world, but this time I wasn't allowed time away for
errands or how I was able to lie about everything in my double life back
then.


Marcus wouldn't be understanding or lenient. And he no matter how insane he
came across, he was very calculating and very not crazy at all.


"Hello, Maya." Marcus spoke from behind me.


I saw his reflection in the window and jerked away.


I whirled around and gazed at who had pleaded, loved, and now held my life in
his hands.


"I think a simple hello doesn't cover my greeting." I murmured, shakenly.


He looked the same. Custom-tailored three-piece suit with a pinstriped tie
over Gucci loafers with golden eyes that sparked orange glints in lust and
outrage. He had silk black hair that was long enough to be swept behind his ears
and just skimmed above his neck.


Darren could've been a model for GQ, but Marcus would've founded the magazine
if looks came into the picture. He was classically handsome and an everlasting
prettyboy.


Jace wore danger like a piece of clothing that moved with him, but Marcus
never let his danger shine through until someone stood close enough to see the
fury that rarely broke free.


Nuns adored Marcus while they would've just lusted after Jace from afar,
never to grow near.


Marcus was the snake that no one saw as he slithered underneath their feet
until his fangs bit deep.


He laughed now and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. He set a briefcase
down next to the couch, loosened his tie, and sat down. He threw an arm back and
lounged, relaxing, on the couch while he stared up at me.


"So." He murmured and patted the seat next to him. "Let's talk about why you
came to be here."


My mouth quirked in bitter irony at his choice of words, but I sighed,
breathed a last true breath, and moved to sit across from him, not beside
him.


Marcus' eyes sparked at that and he leaned forward, "I thought you were eager
to be back in my good graces. Why are you over there?"


"Are you really going to do this?"


"Do what?" He asked and lifted an eyebrow. "You realized your mistakes and
came back, didn't you?"


I lifted my chin and asked, steadily, "So you're going to make pay that
way?"


"Well," He smiled, blindingly. "if Lanser finds his way in here and does come
for you, I'd rather he have you soiled than dead."


I sucked in my breath and willed myself to still feel something, but it all
slowly turned off. The switch flipped down at his words and I resigned myself to
my fate if I were to endure and live, rather than fight and die.


Marcus wasn't the blind fool in love that his men assumed. He loved and he
lusted, but he wasn't blind. I knew that Marcus knew the true reason for why I
had willingly walked into that building.


I'd been suckered and he knew that was the only way I sat before him, because
he punched the right buttons for Jace to make his sacrifice.


Marcus breathed deep and stood to stand in front of me. He looked down and
cupped the side of my face as a thumb caressed my skin.


"Silk." He whispered and bent downwards to press a kiss there. "That's how
you always felt. Just like silk."


"Don't." I choked out.


He turned, smiled, and kissed me tenderly.


"Please." I managed out.


Marcus explored inside as his tongue swept past my lips and brushed against
my own. He groaned deep and then murmured, "It was worth it. God, it was worth
it, my bella."


He slid an arm underneath my knees and lifted to carry me into his
bedroom.


"Our bedroom." He murmured against my skin as he placed me on the bed and
stood there, looking down on me. "It feels good to have you where you're
supposed to be, my white dove."


"I'm not your bella and I'm not your dove."


Marcus laughed momentarily and placed one knee on either side of me. He
braced his arms by my head and looked down, piercing me with his eyes when he
said, "Yes, you are."


I grabbed his wrists and pleaded, "Can we talk before we do this?"


"Why? So that you can lie to me? So that you can twist my thoughts to
believing everything that you say? Are you going to try and tell me that you
really loved me all this time and you never meant to leave?" He snarled now.


I gasped.


Marcus pressed a rough kiss against my lips and slid a hand down my side to
curl between my legs. He breathed against my mouth, "This is mine. You are
mine."


I choked.


"You're never getting away from me again." He promised and slid his hand back
up to slide underneath my shirt. "I gave you everything you wanted back then.
And you betrayed me."


"Please…" I whispered, brokenly.


"I know about your friends, about your roommates, about your nephew. I know
about his daddy. I know about a whole lot more than you think I know, but I have
loved you this entire time. I will love you no matter how many sins you wrong
me, because I believe." He kissed me again. "I believe in you even when you
don't believe in us."


I uncurled my hand from his wrist and jerkily brought it to his face. I
cupped the side of his cheek and Marcus closed his eyes, savoring my touch.


I raised myself and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. I asked, "Where's
the book?"


He chuckled, but deepend the kiss, "It's where only the true swear their
lives to God."


"Tell me." I pressed myself against him.


Marcus inhaled sharply.


I felt his hardness against me and I ran a hand down in a circling motion on
his back.


He used to love that.


"What do I get in return?" He wove his fingers into my hair and held me
passively before him. "What do I get in return?"


Frozen, I felt my soul tear away and wondered fleetingly when it would
return. I whispered, hoarsely, "Anything you want."


It was what he wanted and he laughed joyously.


He kissed me, again and again, and I asked, "Where is it?"


He stopped, breathing hard, and looked to our bedside stand and there sat a
bible.


"It's there." He breathed out and whispered, "Now bare your soul for me, mi
bella, and I shall forgive your sins."


He sat back and watched as I did what he wanted, what he instructed, and I
said what he told me to say.


The rest of the night proved to become a blur for the rest of my life.


I could've fought and I would've died an assured death, but I gave in and did
what he wanted all for the one hope of life at a later opening in time.


I hadn't lied to Jace when I said that I stayed with Marcus for five years
and that I lied to myself throughout that entire time. I told myself that I
stayed to insure Lily's own freedom, but after that first night spent with
Marcus, I stayed with him because I was terrified of what would happen if this
were to ever occur.


If I ran and he would've found me again. I knew that his mercy would be sweet
to hear, but punishing to the touch.


I glimpsed my future throughout that night as Marcus did want he wanted and
it was bleak, but it was a future.


Marcus finally slept around four in the morning. I dozed and woke to stiffle
the gasp in my throat.


Jace stood in the doorway, a lethal gun in his hand, and black paint on his
face that only illuminated what his eyes shone fiercely.


Revulsion, regret, and wrath.