Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 125140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
She bites her thumbnail as she thinks. “You think it’s more dangerous to stay here?”
I nod.
“Can we charter a plane from here?” she asks.
“I did some research tonight while you were in the shower, and I think it will be easier to be picked up if we do that.”
She frowns. “So you think we just catch a commercial flight?”
“I think so.”
“But won’t they be able to find us?”
I shrug. “We will buy the tickets in the airport at the last minute with cash. The international passport website is a lot harder to hack and it may give us some time. I’m assuming, up until this point, they were tracking our credit card.”
“But what if they do track us and are waiting at the other end?”
My eyes hold hers. “It’s a possibility.”
She rubs her forehead with both hands as she thinks. “Stace, I don’t like this.”
I grab her hand over the table. “I know, baby, but it’s going to be harder for them to take you from an international airport than it is from a deserted country road in South America.”
Her eyes rise to meet mine.
“I feel like I need to get you back on American soil.”
“Why?” she whispers.
“I just do. We have no contacts over here and the police don’t know your circumstances. Hell, the police are probably on his payroll. I don’t know the dynamics of this country and it makes me fucking nervous.”
She closes her eyes as she grapples with the concept.
“Do you get where I am coming from?” I ask.
“I suppose.” She sighs as she looks off into the distance.
“Hey.” I squeeze her hand. “Look at me.” She drags her eyes to meet mine. “It will be okay. We will get the passports and disappear.”
“Promise?”
I hold my glass up and clink it with hers. “On my life.”
The sound of Rosh’s breathing is comforting. She’s fast asleep on my chest and tucked safely under my arm. Every night, around this time, is when the dark thoughts creep in. I start to worry, just after she has drifted off to sleep before me. I rub my cheek back and forth over the top of her head as I think. She nestles closer and kisses my chest in her sleep.
I’ve never had this before. I’ve never felt so contented, so connected to one person. My mind goes back to Mandy, my childhood sweetheart, and a heavy sense of regret fills me.
I haven’t let myself think of her much over the years. I guess I’ve always been too disappointed in myself to let my mind go there. I loved her. I loved her so much, and yet on trips away I would sleep with other woman at different ports around the world.
Why?
I think back and I can remember how aroused I was all the time and how badly I needed the touch of a woman when I was away… any woman. Why didn’t I just break up with her? I think on it for a moment. It was because when I went home she was the only woman I wanted in my bed. She was the only one I wanted to talk to. It went on like that for a while. I would go away for six weeks and be home for six weeks. In the end it was the guilt I felt when I looked in her eyes that brought me undone. I wonder if I hadn’t finally ‘fessed up, would we have married? Would I have gotten over the young and stupid stage, or was there something lacking in our relationship that made me do it?
She would have done anything for me, and I for her. Except the obvious: Loyalty.
I couldn’t do that.
She moved on quickly and was dating within a year, hooking up with a nice stable guy. She married him and they have two small children now.
I don’t think I ever recovered.
I’ve never let myself get close to anyone since. I never want to cause anyone that hurt again. My mind goes to the moment I told her I had slept with someone else and the haunted look on her face. She didn’t believe me at first, and then her heart broke as she wept on the bed as I sat helplessly at her feet.
I will never forget it as long as I live.
I get a lump in my throat still, seven years later. Along with my brother’s death, it is the most painful memory I have, and I caused it for both of us. I gently kiss Rosh’s forehead as she throws her top leg over mine. And now I have this woman. I’m head over heels in love with her, and yet we only met because I kidnapped her.
What kind of man have I turned into?
My brother would be so ashamed.
I lie for half an hour in the dark staring at the ceiling as I go over and over all the mistakes I have made. My lips rest on her forehead. For some reason I need to physically touch her or I can’t relax. Why do I feel so different about Rosh? Why is this love incomparable to anything I have felt before? I feel like an out of control schoolboy who would die on the sword for his all consuming first love.