resetlifeofficial-blog

[resetlifeofficial-blog]

ARTIS

The Trade

A secret mountain cabin in an undisclosed location. -Present Day

Derik punched the bathroom mirror, listening as shards of glass clinked against the bottom of the basin. It’d been almost two years since he’d been rescued from sex trafficking and returned to his life, however, he was still unable to look at his reflection without getting angry. The long dreadlocks he’d prided himself with had to be cut off...for his protection. Still, he mourned them. The team that had rescued him suggested he change his eye color too, but Derik didn’t want to be bullied into such an extreme transformation. Despite that, he eventually agreed. A mixed Asian guy with green eyes would draw more attention than he wanted right now, which meant he would be wearing brown contacts for a very long time. 

He looked down at the broken glass, and frowned. ...still being forced to do things I don’t want to do. During the first two years he and his wife, Lira, had been taken captive, he’d given up the idea of ever

being free or ever seeing her again. Until one day, “Adam”—the mercenary, who disposed of troublemaking slaves, who actually turned out to be a deep-cover, undercover detective, discovered their whereabouts— came to him and explained the situation.

“It’s rare for a married couple to be kidnapped like this, but someone was desperate to have you both. But now that we’ve found you, you both can’t be rescued at the same time, someone will get suspicious. My God,” the tall Middle- Eastern gentleman had said after pounding a fist on the table, “Sean and his crew must have been on drugs. They know kidnapping couples is off-limits...” the man had said after word spread throughout their world about this rare occasion. Recalling the conversation even now, Derik realized he was still nursing bad vibes toward the man who had rescued him. His encounter with the undercover detective was more bitter than sweet. “I didn’t anticipate Sean keeping Lira for himself, though. I’ll protect her as much as I can,” Adam had said before hiding Derik on the back of the truck and sending him off. “But, um, the only way I can legitimately keep an eye on her is to...suddenly develop a desire for her. Can you handle that?”

Derik’s stomach had turned sour at hearing those words, imagining the man’s suggestion, but he gritted his teeth and nodded. He hadn’t wanted to have that conversation, let alone think about what had to take place, but there was no other way. It was bad enough that the kidnapper, Sean, had completely dominated his wife, forcing him to watch the two of them together via livestream. The thought of Adam having to convince Sean to share her had been too much to bear—another part of him died after that conversation.

For almost five years now most of Derik’s dreams have been filled with nothing but nightmares, hell, his daydreams had brought him just as much agony. But he kept trying to convince himself that he had done the right thing by agreeing with the detective’s plan.

With his eyes closed, he could recall the confines of the mildly renovated basement space that belonged to his captor, Ivy. He remembered how much weight he’d lost—being shackled to the wall, panicking over the fate of his wife, no longer caring about himself...he felt partially dead anyway. And without much strength to perform for small private crowds, Ivy had threatened to have him killed if he was going to be a useless slave. But her death threats had had no effect on him, until she threatened to take his wife’s life instead.

Now, at the present time, he felt guilty about being free with his wife still held captive, lived in torment waiting for Lira’s rescue to happen successfully without any trouble. If anything went wrong, he knew they would kill her immediately. He felt as if he were on an emotional yo-yo. His health slipped to another dangerous level, not knowing if she was still alive or barely hanging on. He knew firsthand, the torture and

pain she was experiencing. Lifting weights again became a blessing in disguise as it helped to exert much of his pent up anger and kept his mind off of his experience in those mountains...if only briefly.

It’d been almost four years since Derik last touched his wife. He paced the cabin a lot. There was nothing he could do but endure the agonizing wait. “Adam” had informed him that he could never contact him again so as not to blow his cover. And that was fine by him...there was nothing about him Derik wanted to remember anyway. Of course, Adam wasn’t the enemy, but after what they’d had to do to plan the escape, he couldn’t see himself inviting the man over for a Saturday afternoon to shoot the breeze. Still, a huge part of him would always be grateful for what he did.

“Trust no one, no matter how harmless they look. Everyone has a price,” he remembered Adam saying. But living like this was grating on his sanity, not having anyone to talk to, no one to trust. He tried jogging everyday, but ended up sprinting the last mile or two as images and sounds echoed in his ears like twisted, haunting melodies. He gritted his teeth, running as fast as he could to escape the memories. But he could never rid himself of them. Later, he’d find himself passed out in the woods, his adrenaline blindly

pushing him to a dark place where he could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing. But the memories always came rushing back. He busied himself with cleaning up the glass in the sink. It was the third mirror he’d broken this month,

giving him a reason to make another trip out to the hardware store across town. Once it was replaced, he stared at himself again. It had never occurred to him that he could go without sex for almost a year...and not miss it. The only thing he craved was holding Lira again, having her safe in his arms again. That’s all he wanted. He rolled his eyes and looked away with a bit of regret.

Unfortunately, the last time they had seen each other on dual live stream, they had had a horrible argument about their last performance together, a degrading performance in which Derik had been convinced that some part of Lira had enjoyed. And he had told her so. Naturally, she had defended herself, insisting that it was only an act for Sean’s benefit so he wouldn’t punish her later. Derik knew his accusations stemmed from his heightened emotions, and the horrific circumstances in which they were being held, but he couldn’t rid himself of the rage, the embarrassment, and worse...the jealousy. He wished like hell he could erase that last conversation from Lira’s memory, the brokenhearted look she had given him still tore at his heart today.

His fist tightened, itching to punch through the wall. Give me sixty seconds alone with Sean. “That’s all I would need...” he whispered, smirking at the mirror.

A few months later, the phone rang. Derik awakened from a fitful sleep, the ring sounding as if it was urgently calling his name. He threw the covers away and raced to the phone.

“Yes?” “Mr. Ash, you have an urgent postage you need to sign for at the post office.” “You have the wrong—” he said as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He heard nothing more but the

sound of a dial tone, thinking it was odd until something dawned on him. She called him Mr. Ash, the contact name he’d been given. He raced to the bedroom, threw some clothes on and headed out the door. He found a small white envelope in his safety deposit box.

Behind the cabin, find a prepaid cellphone in the ground by the second stump near the creek. You’ll be contacted about Lira. She has a teardrop tattoo under her left eye in your favorite color. That’s how you’ll recognize her. Burn this after reading. -A.D.A.M.

Her name jumped off the small piece of paper and his heart almost exploded. He frowned briefly at the statement: That’s how you’ll recognize her. Derik nearly ran to the car, but remembered not to draw attention and slowed himself. He drove home casually all the while forcing his foot not to step on the gas. He found the hidden cellphone, and waited.

“Derik?” He stared at the wall with wide eyes, barely able to speak. “Lir—Lira?” “Yes,” she whispered in a rush. “I’m coming home.” Her voice broke as she cried, quietly. He could hear

her sniffling. “Are you in the U.S. yet?” “Yes.” Derik covered his face and fell to the sofa. He couldn’t hold the relief inside any longer, and wept a long

time while she listened. “Gosh, I can’t wait to see you.” He cleared his throat and sniffed. “Yeah. Please hurry.” “I’ll be there soon, okay?” “No, don’t hang up. You don’t have to talk, just don’t leave or...hang up.” “I’m not going anywhere.” Derik curled up on the sofa, closed his eyes and listened to her breathe. “How much longer?” “I don’t know. A few more hours, I think.” The moment seemed ethereal, cloudy in his mind somehow. “I love you,” was the last thing he

remembered saying before drifting off to sleep. “I love you...” “Sweetie? Can you hear me?” Blinking slowly to awareness, a soft voice broke through the silence. Groggily, Derik opened his eyes,

then opened them wider and sat up as he realized he was still holding the phone. “Lira?”

“I said we’re about to pull up.”

The phone slipped from his hands and onto the floor. He was trembling with emotion. He moved to the door and looked out just as a black SUV was coming down the driveway, dust flying up behind it. He didn’t move any further, just held onto the doorway for support as the vehicle soon came to a halt in front of the cabin. He zeroed in on her silhouette as the dust cleared. It was her. He knew her spirit anywhere. But when the door opened and she stepped out, he didn’t recognize the woman coming toward him.

Lira removed her shades and smiled.

After an eternity passed, Derik found his legs and walked down to meet her. One look at those lips and he knew they were the ones he had remembered kissing so many times before. Memories from their old life came flooding back.

“Hi,” he said, pressing a fist to his lips to keep himself from crying.

Lira was smiling, the sunlight in her eyes turned her tears to sparkling diamonds. He tried to keep himself from smiling. The undercover cop standing by the car seemed to be moved, but Derik’s attention was back on that multi-colored hair of gold, copper and blonde, those light green eyes that used to be brown, and the small red teardrop—that looked more like a drop of blood—near her left eye. Her breasts had been reduced, and her nose and chin had been altered just so.

Then he realized something: he could still see her, the creole goddess he had married on the beach a lifetime ago. Smiling into each other’s soul, they lunged for one another like two magnets that could no longer be kept apart. They fell to the ground with him on top, kissing and crying, squeezing and holding on

tightly. He buried his face into her neck as they wept uncontrollably. She held onto him, weeping and chanting his name against his ear.

After a moment, Derik felt a hand on his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you two inside.” Sniffling and still clinging to each other, the plain-clothes detective helped them into the cabin. “Wait,” Derik managed to say. “Tell Adam...” but he was too choked up, couldn’t get the words out. “He knows. This is what he does, what we all do,” he smiled and nodded. “Getting your lives back helps

us sleep better at night...well, when we do sleep,” he grinned. Lira broke away from Derik, running to the detective and wrapping him in a tight hug. He blushed and

hugged her back. “What is your name?” “Just call me...Adam,” he said, smiling as it dawned on them both. “You two be careful. The paperwork

will be sent once its finished so you can start your new lives. We’ll be checking on you periodically. Take care and stay alert.”

Derik nodded, a look of gratitude in his eyes as the man saw himself out. He took Lira’s fingers and kissed them, then walked toward the bedroom, pulling her along with him. He removed his clothes, then removed hers.

“God, you’re beautiful.” He caressed a thumb over her bottom lip. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed these,” melting inside when she kissed his thumb. “I just want to lie here with you. Can we do that?” he asked, pulling her down onto the bed.

“Yes, of course,” she breathed, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “I’ve missed my body,” he said, laying her down gently as he looked her over. She giggled, her eyes full of unshed tears, and he smiled, moving himself between her legs and

wrapping her up close to his chest. He shut his eyes tight, lost himself in her. Every muscle fiber, every part of his skin...knew her flesh. The memory of her touch was stored so deeply in his cells, he felt as if he’d never been without it. Yet, on the flip side, not having her body there was akin to not being able to touch his own body for five years. He grabbed the blanket, then pulled it up over them and closed his eyes...

“You know, I really like your wavy hair. You were just starting your dreadlock journey when we first met so I never got a chance to see this.”

“Well, it’s going to be like this for a while. An Asian with dreadlocks? I’d get spotted easily, right.” Something felt strange in his chest and groin, and he almost moved away from her.

“Good,” she said. As she toyed with his thick, dark eyebrows, her eyes began to water. “What is it, babygirl?” “You’ve been lying on top of me for almost two days now. You haven’t kissed me since that day outside.

Are we okay?” “God, yes. I’m...I’m just...all I can think about is not letting you go.” Lira smiled. Derik smiled back, then looked away. His own eyes watering as he buried his face in her

neck. “Derik, you can talk to me about anything. What’s on your mind?” After a moment of silence. “Not just yet. Please? I just miss you.” “Okay,” she said, smiling and running her fingers through his hair. He squeezed her tighter in his arms, trying to ignore the feeling of her soft nether region pressing into,

and sliding against, his slowly growing erection in which he was fighting with all his might to keep down. “Baby, please...stop moving like that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. My body is yours, I’ll always be yours,” he waited till she looked up at him. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I just want you to keep your arms around me right now. Okay? That’s all.” “Sure,” she said, looking up at him with wet eyes. Her new eye color was going to take some getting used to. Every time she looked his way, he felt as if he

were seeing a different person. Yet, she was even more beautiful than he ever expected, making his body react again.

God help me, he wasn’t ready for this. Part of him wanted to move his hips just slightly and connect the both of them. He craved her warmth, and the tight, wet silkiness of her body.

But I can’t. Mortifying images of their captivity flooded his mind like a wild current. “Talk to me. Something is messing with you. I can see it.” Lira was worried. It wasn’t his intention to cause her any more distress. Moving from atop her and onto

his back, Derik sighed, resting his elbow over his face. “I haven’t had any relief since I left that place...” He didn’t want to say what he was about to say next,

but it needed to be said. “...and I don’t care.” “I don’t care to have sex right now either, so you’re good. If anyone can understand what you’re

feeling...I can.” She laid next to him, resting her hand on his chest. “I enjoy touching you, having you touch me. That’s

enough for me.” “Thank you for saying that,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Because I love touching you. I need that. To

have been without it for so long was like an emptiness I can’t even describe. When she...they—whoever— called themselves petting me, it felt offensive and insulting. I was never able to get the comfort they thought they were rewarding me with. I needed you—” Derik began to tense up at the thought.

Lira climbed on top of him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re with me now. And you’re mine. I’ll be the one who comforts you,” she said, looking down at him so he could meet her eyes.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and twisted until he was on top. And again, they slept that way into the wee hours of the morning.

“So, how long do we have to live here?” Lira asked a few weeks later.

“It says here another few months. Adam, or whatever his real name is, told me long ago that he had to devise an effective, convincing plan for our escape. I mean, a married couple gone at the same time would’ve raised suspicion. In other words, we have to follow this thing to the t until the ‘Adams’ are satisfied that our fake deaths have been accepted, without question.”

“What was the story? That detective didn’t say too much about yours, plus I slept a lot on the way home...”

“That’s understandable,” he said, reaching out to stroke her cheek. “Well, on one of Adam’s visits, I was supposed to go ballistic, not wanting him to touch me, then we fought. He pulled a knife, and I got cut badly during the struggle, supposedly bleeding out. Ivy was livid,” he smirked at the memory. “And then once you found out some months later, you hung yourself. They had to give it some time before you “died,” or it just would’ve looked suspect.”

“Geez...” “Yeah, I know. Pretty dark.” Derik was suddenly quiet. Lira turned to him, noticing. “What is it?”

“What did Adam, I mean, he have to do to you? You know what he had to do to me, you were watching on camera.”

“Only because Sean forced me to...but I don’t really want to talk about that right now.” “I know. I just—I was only curious about what he did...h-how—” “Rik, please.” He placed the documents on the table, and rested his palms on the hard surface.

“Do we plan to talk about any of this?” “No. I don’t know. Maybe,” Lira said with a frown. Still leaning over the table, he turned to look at her, waiting until she met his eyes. “I know you don’t like confrontations and you probably just want to move on, but this is serious. Some

serious crimes were committed against us. I was forced to rape you in front of a crowd, brutally...for entertainment! I was whipped and beaten just to make that—Ivy lady smile. Don’t get me started on what Adam had to do to gain Sean’s trust with you...or with me!” He dropped his head and took a deep breath. He opened his eyes when he felt calmer. “We can’t go to a therapist, it would bring attention to us. Who else are we going to talk to, Lira, if it’s not each other? You’re literally all I have.”

Lira moved and he opened his arms as she fell into his chest.

“I don’t want to remember,” came the muffled and tortured reply as she pressed her face into his shoulder. “I just want to get back to normal.”

“Okay, we’ll give it some time. It’s okay,” he whispered, gently rubbing her back. “You want a warm bath?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

It was nice, felt so natural and calming to prepare his wife a bath. Yet, seeing the scars marring her body ripped the wound in his heart open again. Derik went still. He didn’t want to ruin the moment the way he had yesterday, or bring any memories fluttering back to either one of them, so he kept quiet and moved quickly.

What was he to do? Staying silent was one thing. But the reminders weren’t just in their conversation, they were all over their bodies, screaming loudly every time they undressed. Even so, underneath those scars and bruises her lovely figure remained. Suddenly, his thoughts were pulled from the past as he studied the beautiful body in front of him. Their eyes met. Hers were filled with longing and a bit of sadness, his with longing and a lot of anger. He picked her up, and bent down to place her inside the tub, but she held onto his neck.

His breathing began to quicken. “Don’t,” he pleaded, avoiding her eyes. “Lira, don’t.”

He felt his body tensing again, but calmed himself as he put her in the tub and left her there. Derik headed off to the kitchen to make her something special. He’d gone to the store and was back before she emerged from the bath. While preparing dinner, music wafted into the kitchen. Curious, he followed the stream until he opened the door to low-fi music softly flowing from the speakers.

A thin, tight-fitting nightgown hugged Lira’s body as she swayed playfully to the music. She held her hands out to her surprised, but starry-eyed husband once she spotted him, beckoning him to join her. He smiled and sauntered into the room, joining her in the lighthearted atmosphere he knew she was intentionally creating. Still, he couldn’t resist her. They danced, moved close and backed away. She pirouetted around the room as he mockingly chased her and hugged her tight to his body when she allowed him to catch her.

Bad move.

His body jerked hard. He felt weak all over, dropping his arms at his sides, he could only stand there. Lira continued dancing seductively around him. He caught the look in her eyes...she had him hooked. He held

her gaze until she moved behind him, then came back around. His eyes narrowed. She gasped as he grabbed her and pinned her against the wall. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, his chest was heaving. He pressed his body into her so hard that she could barely breathe. But the look in her eyes was far from distress.

I’m still not ready for this, he thought dropping his head in shame. “Baby, I can’t give you what you need right now. No matter how much I want to.”

“We’re still husband and wife. I still want you.” “You want it like this? With all this rage inside me?” “I don’t mind,” she whispered heatedly, then smiled innocently. “Please—?” “I said I wasn’t ready. What I wanna do to you would be considered rape.” The way she looked at him

caught his attention. He knew what she was thinking, could read it in her eyes. “If they weren’t threatening our lives, I would’ve never done those things to you and you know it.”

She gave him a look, and he knew exactly what it was saying without hearing the words. He squinted, shaking his head slightly, daring her not to say it.

“If I could handle you over there, what makes you think I can’t handle you here?” she said, challenging him.

Derik grinned, her thoughtless challenge making him angry. Moving in close to her ear, anger boiling his blood as the memories filled his mind. “All you care about is your need, isn’t it? You haven’t changed. You don’t care how sick to my stomach it makes me to get hard.”

“Why should we have to suffer?” She looked at him in surprise. “I saw you on camera. You didn’t know you were being filmed at that facility he took you to.” “More like the house of horrors,” she muttered. “You didn’t seemed fazed by any of the crazy stuff you saw.” “Well, you’re mistaken,” she said, trying to push him away. “Sean was watching every move I made, every

response. He’s sick—“ “Sean...I’m sick of hearing about Sean!” He moved back and she slid to the floor. “Why do you have to

deny everything? Why can’t you be honest for once?” Looking up at him. “Because I’m telling you the truth. I didn’t want to be there the first day. Maybe if

your ego would stop and think about it, you’d be more sympathetic.” Ignoring her comment. “But you liked him. Be honest.” “Is it easier for you to think I was falling for him so you can leave me? Your ego can’t handle being with a

woman who might have feelings for a kidnapper, so you’re trying to convince yourself that I enjoyed being a sex slave?!”

“The guy looked like a freaking movie star and he treated you like royalty! I was taken to places where girls were living like animals!”

“Now it’s my fault that he kept me instead of sending me away to live like an animal?”

“No, but I was in a dungeon...a dungeon, Lira! How crazy does that sound? This is not...the land of freaking Mordor!”

“I hate that you were there, okay? But from what I saw it was a renovated dungeon.”

He turned to her slowly, his eyes bright with rage. “When you’re naked...in chains...have to piss in front of strangers...eat on the floor like a dog...you don’t notice, or give a damn about the decor!” Hands on his hips, Derik sighed and looked away. He didn’t know what to think anymore. “I’m gonna finish dinner.”

“I don’t know why you’re yelling at me. I’m not the one who did this to us!” she yelled from the back room.

Lira was right. He shouldn’t be taking his anger out on her. They’d been apart too long to waste precious time arguing about things they couldn’t change. He remembered the fear in her eyes, the way she was forced to watch the man she loved being tortured. Sometimes he spotted Sean holding her head when she tried to turn away. Derik could only imagine how she must have felt. Trembling, he sighed. They were both depleted, in need of regeneration, and there was no telling how long that would take. If they were going to be each other’s ICU, arguing wasn’t going to create the therapeutics they needed right now.

Get it together, man.

The dinner plates were getting final touches by the time Lira joined him at the small island in the middle of the kitchen. She pulled up a stool and sat quietly. He was facing the stove, preparing her food.

“The land of Mordor?” she finally said, lifting her brows as he put a plate in front of her.

Derik bit his cheek when she covered her mouth to keep from smiling. But when he snickered, she lost it. A broad smile broke across his face as he repeated the words, then laughed out loud. After a long while, the laughter died down. “Well, that’s what it reminded me of.”

“Really? I don’t remember Mordor having such a nice toilet,” she said laughing and holding her side.

“Yeah, thank goodness for that bucket,” he said, sarcastically. “I don’t think the Orcs had a sheet to cushion their stone beds like I did. Ohhh, I was richly blessed—“ he said, howling with laughter.

Lira almost fell off the stool. “You’re...crazy,” she said, barely able to catch her breath. “Oh, wow,” he said, wiping his eye, still sniggering. “Your food’s getting cold.” “Yeah, right,” she said, breathless, then gasped when she realized what it was. Salmon Napoleon, one of

her favorite comfort meals. The laughter in her eyes faded. He frowned as tears suddenly flowed down her face. He came around the island and held her, soothing her with his words until she stopped crying. The food was still a bit warm by the time they started eating.

“Why were you crying?” “Just a flash of our life...before.” Derik shook his head, smirking. “Yeah, I have those moments, too.” He watched her fork push food

around the plate for almost five minutes before speaking up. “Now, what’s on your mind?” “Just wondering if you love—loved Ivy?” He was sure his face looked sinister with how deeply he was frowning. “Are you kidding me? Why would

I love that woman?” “You know what science says about people in captivity, well, I was just wondering if it happened to you,

that’s all.” Now he was pushing food around the plate. She had to go there. “Did it happen to you? Are you having

trouble getting someone out of your system?” She sighed.

Derik felt himself getting tense as he waited for her to answer. Then he reminded himself of the paperwork that was waiting for him after his rescue. Adam couldn’t arrange for them to have counseling so he arranged for a therapist friend to write up some information to help them cope. He glanced over at the thick yellow envelope on the small table near the front door. Adam had made him promise to read it, then give to Lira once she was returned to him.

This is new for her, she just got home. I’ve had over a year of freedom. Remember that, idiot, Derik reminded himself.

“I don’t know what I’m feeling, really. I just know I don’t like it.”

“You’re probably feeling guilt. A part of you is still attached, while another part of you is glad to be away from there.”

“You’ve had those feelings?” Derik sighed. He hadn’t wanted to admit to anything involving them, but she wasn’t going to let it go. “I did, off and on. Ironically, it was some of the weird stuff they had me doing to you that would come

to mind, sometimes. But those emotional ties I had with some of the others just made me hate ‘em all the more. I’m too angry to pine over her. If she were in front of me right now, I’d squeeze her throat until her heart stopped, then I’d toss her over that cliff she threatened to push me down so many times, and smile as she tumbled to the bottom.”

“It killed me when they made me watch you being tortured. I wanted to hurt every last one of them,” she said, squeezing his shoulder.

A surge of emotion shot through him and he lowered his head, allowing her to put her forehead to his. He didn’t want to relive this just now. He wanted to focus on her. Still, it felt surreal that they were even sitting there together.

“I think I’m ready for bed,” she said.

Later in the night, Lira bolted up in the bed, making Derik jump up as well. He could hear her labored breathing. The darkness in the room was lighted by the pale moon outside, but he could only see the thin line of her shadow.

“Babygirl?” he whispered.

She gasped, turning toward his voice and falling on the floor as she struggled to get away from him. She stood up slowly, moving backward toward the wall, a hand reaching upward as if warding off his approach.

Derik moved closer, suddenly aware that his shadow might be frightening her. He took another step forward and she screamed, cowering against the wall and covering her head.

“No, no more! Please!”

She was sleepwalking, and reliving the nightmare. He held out his hands, then held them up in surrender, but everything he did made her see something distorted that made her panicky, and wildly emotional. He moved closer and grabbed her arms. She fought him, kicked him in the stomach then the groin. He went down, losing his footing momentarily, and grabbed her ankle before she could run out of the room. She kicked him in the jaw. Pain exploded in his face, but not enough to dissuade him from pulling her to him despite her struggles. Finally, he placed his body atop hers and whispered her name softly, waiting for her to wake up. When she did, she wrapped her arms around his neck and wept until her eyes were red and swollen.

“What were you seeing?” Derik asked after he switched on a small lamp.

She unconsciously rubbed her arm, staring a thousand miles away. When he looked at the area she rubbed, he saw a bruise there. Thin enough for a whip to have cut through—he didn’t know how he missed seeing it. He turned her wrists over, silently alarmed that he missed seeing the thin markings on her skin that no doubt came from the chafing of metal handcuffs. He closed his eyes, praying for strength, trying to pull his mind from the murderous thoughts that resurfaced within him.

“It-it was that facility,” she said, still staring into the memories of the house of horrors, as she had put it. “There were children and adults there—everyone was so afraid. It broke my heart, but I couldn’t cry for them...in front of him. He hated tears, but he loved the screams... I wanted to pick everyone of them up and carry them out on my back,” she said, trying to speak coherently through the broken sobs. “I didn’t care if I had to hike in the snow, I didn’t want them to be there! The children were so scared—they knew people were being tortured...that people were dying, and they just knew the same was going to happen to them if they didn’t do what they were told—and I couldn’t help them!”

“Did Sean do anything to you there?” “No, but he didn’t stop them from doing things.”

“Them who?”

“I couldn’t...see their faces. I know he was behind that glass, watching them torture me. He said if I shed one tear, it would continue for another hour. Those people did their best to make me cry...I thought it would never end and I would simply go insane. Or, better yet, I’d wake up dead,” she said smiling weakly. “He lied to me in the beginning, promising me that no one would touch me, or hurt me. I thought he meant it. But as time went on, more of his sadistic nature came out. And I could see that he was actually getting off on people hurting me, humiliating me...r-raping me—” Her breath was labored, but she still managed to speak between sniffling and sobbing.

Then, all of a sudden she became very quiet, very still. Without warning she screamed, squeezing her eyes shut and shouting to the top of her lungs. She didn’t speak until her breathing was calmer.

“I’m sorry, I had to get that out. I’ll be fine.” She let out a very long sigh as her scream seemed to go on, echoing around the room.

“Let’s go back to bed.”

Before the sun rose the following morning, they went for a jog. The slither of light near the horizon was like a window opening on their dark secret. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she were feeling the same bit of comfort he was feeling just then.

“Ohh, man,” Derik squinted and held the left side of his head. “I feel a migraine coming on.” She stopped walking. “You still get headaches...before I cycle?” “Is that what this is? I haven’t had them since we were separated—just realized that. I don’t miss them, I

can tell you that.” “Well, it’s good to know my cramps won’t be that bad this time around.” “Always glad to be your period compass,” he said sarcastically. “I have to get home.” “Okay, and don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.” A strong wave of compassion passed between them. They could feel it so strongly that it watered both

their eyes. All he could do was grab her. They held onto each other for a long moment. “I love you, but I really need to get home.” “Right!” Since Derik couldn’t run, it took them almost a half hour to get to the cabin. By the time they got there,

he was having a full-blown migraine. He was nauseous, fatigued, and irritable. Lira walked around on cloud nine. She always thought it was nice when he took on her symptoms and all she had to deal with was the cycle itself without the side effects.

“What does that mean though? This is the first time in a long time that you’ve taken my symptoms. How does that work?”

Derik just shook his head. He didn’t feel like talking. “I don’t care. Just kill me now and wake me up in six days.” He glared at Lira just then. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m sorry.” She tried hiding her giggles, but found it difficult as she continued looking at his tortured expression.

Like a tsunami ripping through cities, neighborhoods and homes, it would take some time to rebuild their life after what they had been through. At least they seemed to be moving in a good direction. Soon they would be moving into their own place, which was scary in itself. Life was not going to stand still for them to recover. They had to take that leap. But at this point they weren’t sure where to go or what to do. The thought of being around people made them nervous, and crowds—they might as well jump into the ocean. Derik wished her father could be there to support her, but they weren’t allowed to reach out to them in case spies were lurking around. Their families had to continue thinking their children were simply dead, never to see or touch them again.

Another privilege taken away from them.

They stood on the balcony of their new studio apartment, the ocean and the sandy beach was their front yard. Ten stories up they were able to feel safe and out of reach from other people. Derik frowned, looking down at the beach where clusters of people gathered. How long would he be suspicious of the world? he wondered. He certainly wasn’t looking forward to living like this everyday.

He walked back inside and removed his t-shirt. He could feel Lira’s eyes on him. She had stayed behind on the balcony, eerily silent. From the corner of his eye, he noticed her following his every move as she came forward and leaned against the sliding door. He went still, waiting for her to speak or approach him. But she never did.

“I’m going to go take a long bubble bath,” she finally said, walking past him.

He remained still, waiting for her to ask if he would join her, but she never asked. They had been reunited for three months now, and still felt like strangers joined at the hip, only knowing each other through holding hands or cuddling on the sofa. They barely kissed—knowing where it would lead. Yes, it was his decision to abstain from sex, but his heart was hurting even now.

Lira had just started to get undressed as he walked into the bathroom. He leaned against the door, watching her. He missed her body, missed tracing and caressing every curve, and all those other softer places. She noticed him and turned around.

“My god,” he muttered. “Sorry,” he pursed his lips, sheepishly.

She continued to undress, seeming to ignore him. Her lips held a small smile, but it never reached her eyes. He walked toward her and she took a sudden step back the way an animal would move cautiously out of its predator’s reach.

Derik slowed. “You okay?”

Lira smiled sweetly, never answering, just watching and waiting to see what he would do next. She didn’t continue undressing until he stopped moving toward her. She hadn’t spoken since coming into the bathroom, and her silence made him uncomfortable. He moved toward her once she was completely naked. She moved away from him again, toward the wall, but he followed.

“Leave me alone, Rik.” “Staying away from me isn’t the answer.” “Having you leave me alone is much easier to deal with. Having you on me and having to control my

response...not so much,” she said, looking at him with that sarcastic smile. “Come here,” he said, reaching out to touch her shoulder. “Don’t touch me,” her eyes shining with fury. “Do you know how crazy this is? Do you know how much

this hurts? We can’t rush into sex, okay, that’s understandable. But to quench it when it happens naturally simply because you’re angry at someone else—that’s ludicrous! Do you think those people cared about us being uncomfortable? No!”

Tears flooded her eyes and poured down her cheeks. She waved a frustrated hand through the air as he moved closer. “It isn’t fair that I ha-have to look at you day after day, after being forced away from you for almost four years! It was torture seeing you on camera and then not seeing you on camera, not being able to touch you, to comfort you. And all I could think about the entire time I was coming home was being a husband and wife again. Being intimate and it being okay. But you can’t go there. Well, my body wants to go there...but what can I do about it? Nothing! Because I’m a woman and I’m supposed to be understanding and compassionate and wounded. Yes, I’m wounded, but I’m still a woman who loves her husband. A man who’s never hurt me. But fine. I’ll leave you alone, no matter how long it takes, until you’re able to get an erection without throwing up!”

Derik stared at her, heartbroken. He turned away from her and headed for the door...then stopped.

“Why do you think this hurts so much? Why do you think I’m willing to go without sex and intimacy? So you can be happy. Why? Because I’m still in love with that guy I saw playing volleyball in the park so many years ago. So, have a little mercy with the freaking cuddling, the petting, the kissing, taking off your...your shirt, and wearing those short shorts...l-looking at me the way you do. You’re killing me, “ her voice broke as she wept softly leaning against the wall. “And don’t think I’m some sex-starved nymphomaniac—god, maybe I am when it comes to you,” she wiped her nose, sniffling, “—but I’m not oblivious to what you’re going through. It breaks my heart to see you like this. Things that should come natural for us are now nasty and ugly and dirty and it’s not fair!”

“I know it doesn’t have to be like that, baby. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to shake myself from it.” “Maybe that’s it,” she said quietly, a hand holding her up against the wall. “Maybe you just don’t want to.” “And you’re able to let go? Just like that?” “Not just like that, but I will not let it control me. I’ve been accustomed to abuse since I was a little girl,

remember? I’ve taken on so much, I can, surprisingly, bare much. Doesn’t mean that I want to.” Derik was quiet for a moment. “You might be right. I can’t let it go. What they did, what they’re getting

away with...makes me so angry.” “Yeah, well, a lot of my abusers have gone on to live their lives while I suffered internally for years and

where did it get me? No where.” She moved past him and stepped into the tub. She didn’t pull away when a hand came up to support her as she sank into the water.

“But I understand. I’ll leave you alone.”

“That’s the thing, Rik. I don’t want to be left alone. I need your strength, your arms wrapped around me. You...making love to me. Each day we don’t have sex, each moment we withhold ourselves from intimacy, they win. Over and over, they win. And the abuse never stops, because it’s right here with us!”

“I’m glad it’s just memories,” he muttered.

“And you think those are not just as potent? I’ve done the research, I’ve done the experience— It’s the memories that’s going to finish what they started. Is that what you want?“

“Lira.” “Can I finish this bath before it gets any cooler, please?” Derik pursed his lips together and walked out feeling pretty defeated. He sat on the sofa, thinking of

Lira’s words. He noticed a full moon across the ocean and went to stand out on the balcony. Tempted to bring her out here to see it, he leaned back and sighed. He remembered a time when looking at the moonlight aroused him, because it reminded him of her. The beautiful things that made her smile, or put a sparkle in her eyes, always made him fall deeper in love with her. He couldn’t imagine feeling any other way.

Until the night of that house party where their drinks were spiked...that’s when everything changed.

He frowned. This was not how he wanted to spend the first month of their new life. He stood up and gripped the railing. A suffocating warmth moved up his chest and he shut his eyes tight trying to stave off a panic attack. His marriage couldn’t suffer any more than it already has, but he could not let go of his hatred...his fear.

Derik’s eyes flew open. Fear? Am I afraid? he wondered to himself. Yes...!

He was deathly afraid...that Sean would come looking for her. Would he keep her forever? Would he kill her? Would he kill me just to keep her forever? His heart was almost pounding through his chest.

“A full moon and you didn’t tell me?” She bit playfully. He turned to her, smiling apologetically. “I was going to.” Her gaze turned toward the sky. “We’ve never had a view like this. A full moon right over the ocean. It’s

—“ She hesitated.

“Say it.” “No. It was a mistake.” “I want to hear it.” She hesitated again, then said quietly, “It’s sexy.” She turned to walk back inside the condo. He grabbed her, pulling her in front of him and pinning her to the railing with his body. His hands and

arms slipped around her waist and he held her tight. Instead of putting her arms around his neck like he had hoped, she gripped the rail behind her.

He moved back slightly, “Don’t give up on me. I’m going to fight this.”

Lira turned to look at him. Something in his eyes touched her, because her shoulders dropped and she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him just as tightly.

“Let’s go back inside,” she said, smiling into his eyes.

“I never knew your eyes could be even prettier in this shade. Did the procedure hurt?” he said, also studying different parts of her face.

“It was uncomfortable at first, but the medications helped,” she said.

Derik pulled her in tight, feeling overwhelmed with compassion that he suddenly wanted to make love. This surprised him, delighted him, but somewhere deep in his mind, it also worried him. He fought against the feeling. She pulled away intending to lead his hand to the den, but stopped when she felt him resist.

“What is it?” she turned, the confusion on her face faded when she saw the look in his eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I want you. I, at least, want to try,” he said, squeezing her hand gently. “The patience and understanding you’re showing me, touches me.”

Lira looked down at his midsection. He looked down as well. Smirking, he said, “I’m moved emotionally, too. Trust me.” She almost laughed, but when his expression turned serious, the laughter in her eyes vanished. She

began walking backward to the bedroom. He sauntered toward her until he was stalking her as she continued down the hallway, bright eyes locked with his. Derik could feel himself zoning out, going to that place in his mind he had learned to depend on during his captivity. Her lips moved, but the sound was muffled. He tilted his head, squinting as if walking through a fog. He no longer felt attached to his own body as he approached her, grabbing her once they were inside the room. He pulled her to his chest.

Flashes of being in the mountains visualized and he almost growled in anger as he threw her to the bed. He rubbed his eyes, then blinked, trying to blink away the memories. “God,” he groaned, but when he opened his eyes, the images were gone, everything was darkly serene. He looked down at the woman in the bed, her gown open. He no longer saw the woman he married, only a body to devour. She spoke again, but he could no longer hear her voice.

Derik woke up, stretching and yawning. He scratched his jaw, eyes still closed and suddenly felt fatigued within his muscles. He opened his eyes and looked around. Lira was not there.

“Hon?” “Yes?” “Where are you?” “Um, bathroom,” he heard her say in a forced sing-song-like tone. He got up and pulled his pajama pants on, wondering why he was completely naked. Something didn’t

feel right. “You okay?” he asked cautiously. “I— think so.” “My god!” “Derik, calm down. I’m alright.”

“What—how did this happen?” She looked calm, but he could tell she was scared. He didn’t like that. “Last night. You don’t remember?” “Don’t remember?! I didn’t do this. I would never do this!” “You’re right. You wouldn’t. But you weren’t yourself last night. I don’t know where you went, but your

body was the only thing in that room with me.” Her hand went to her neck as she laughed nervously. “It was a little frightening. I-I mean because it surprised me. I’ve never seen you like that...with me,” she circled her hands around, “I mean, in our environment...”

“I frightened you? Great.” He turned away, thinking he would throw up. “I’ll be okay. It’s just a few bruises, and the cuts aren’t deep. They’ll heal quickly.” “This is not okay, Lira!” “You just got a little aggressive. No serious damage done.” “No serious damage—?” Derik threw off her robe, his mouth dropping at the sight of her body. He

turned her around, putting a fist to his mouth to keep himself from cursing. He strode angrily from the bathroom, the sight of her bruised body triggered so many horrible memories into resurfacing.

When Lira found him he was in the kitchen, heaving into the garbage can. She tore some paper towels away and moistened them with a little water. She wiped his lips. Slowly, his bloodshot eyes reached her face and he cringed. Grunting, he grabbed his stomach and turned back to the trash can.

They were sitting on the sofa some moments later, once his stomach had nothing left to give. He wanted like hell to tell her not to run her hand up and down his back, but he only sighed and kept his eyes closed. Her touch stirred him so easily.

Finally allowing himself to be fully honest for once, he thought, I don’t want to be easily stirred, I don’t deserve it. Not wanting to open up about his firm stance for abstinence, he derailed the conversation toward something he thought they both could handle. “I only started that on the balcony, because I was trying to help us, our marriage. It’s hanging on by a thread.”

“We’re not hanging on by a thread. I’m not going to leave you.” “If I can’t give you what you need, you’ll find it somewhere else.” “I wouldn’t—“ “Don’t patronize me, Leer. I’m not naïve and neither are you.” “You can’t tell me what I would do.” He turned to look at her. He knew she could see the hurt in his eyes as he scanned the injuries on her

face, neck and shoulders. “I’ve been wanting to talk with you about something.” “Don’t talk to me about divorce.” “I don’t want a divorce, but what I’m about to say will be far worse.” Lira stood up and walked toward the double-doored balcony. The sun was bright and shone into the

living room, making it bright, fresh and airy, but the spirit that moved into the room cast a shadow on the walls, making him feel like they were closing in on him.

“I’m listening,” she said quietly, her chin lifted, her gaze out on the ocean. “This isn’t easy for me, but we have to consider it.” He went silent as he reflected on his decision. “I said...I’m listening,” she answered, softening her tone. “I’ve thought about getting in touch with the agent who brought you here and see if there is any way he

can find us a doctor.” He cut his eyes in her direction. “A hypnotist.” Lira turned around as if he’d lost his mind. So many emotions drifted over those green eyes, he was

afraid to finish the conversation. “Hear me out.”

She swept a hand toward the ceiling, motioning in a mocking gesture for him to continue, but she did not speak nor did the hardness in her face soften as she turned back toward the balcony.

“I’m not a danger to society, but I do have thoughts, violent thoughts sometimes. I’ve always exacted a level of control in order to stay out of fights, out of jail, ever since I was a young boy. There are movies I’ve seen, people doing horrible things to girls and women that I said I would never do. If I hadn’t gotten injured in high-school, I’d have been on my way to becoming a Navy Seal, to protect people.”

He stood up and walked up behind her, glad that she had turned away from him.

“After meeting you, you have no idea how many men I’ve almost got into a fight with over you. People didn’t think we were together, they thought I was just a friend because of my race. Becoming your husband, things got a little scary. I started thinking about protecting my family...to the death. Why in heaven do I have to have those kinds of thoughts?” He stopped briefly, resting his forehead on the back of her head.

“What are you trying to say?”

“Lira, my thoughts are centered on revenge. When I wake up, I’m devising plans...to kill people, even women. But I’m a warrior, I want to protect people. And the rage I’ve been suppressing all my life has come to the surface. Being near you is a constant reminder of what they did to us and I promise you, if I could find them on my own, I’d dedicate my life to taking them out one by one. I think about this every day and every night.”

Lira was sniffling. He could tell she was on the verge of crying. “Derik—“

“Let me finish. I could’ve killed you last night and not remember doing it. I allowed myself to zone out, knowing it would be dangerous, simply because I wanted to give you what you wanted. I mean, I had to zone out...”

“Why?” He frowned. “Doesn’t matter. The bottom line is I need a hypnotist to get all this stuff out of my brain.”

“Do what you need to to get rid of the nightmares,” she said indifferently. “I understand.” “You’re not understanding me, babe. When I say all of this, it means the memory of you, too.” She didn’t respond. It was almost as if she was expecting that part, but didn’t think he’d actually say it. “I won’t allow it.” Ignoring her response. “I met with the agent a few weeks ago. He’s able to help us.” “What do you mean us?” “I’d like for you to do it as well.” “Out of the question,” her eyes were red and swollen when she turned to him. “I’m not going to erase

you from my memory,” her voice was laced with anger. “Baby, please. Fate will bring us back together.” “Will it? How can you be so sure?” “It brought you to me the first time.”

She covered her mouth, stopping whatever words were about to come bursting out. Then turned around suddenly, “No! I am not going along with this. It sucks what they did to us, but I’m not erasing my life! We dealt with them and survived, and we can survive the aftermath. It’ll hurt like hell, but at least they can’t take that away, too. Why would you allow them to take you away from me again?” She grabbed his shoulders, her eyes imploring. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I’m not strong enough,” he muttered, reluctantly pulling away. “I-I can’t deal with this...and it concerns me that you can.”

“It’s taken me my whole life to realize how much of a part I played in my on-going torment. I allowed those memories to live in my head. Me...I did that.”

“Do you love me?” he asked in a low voice.

Lira’s expression didn’t need words. “You need to let me do this,” he said, turning to her, “or I’m going to lose my mind.” “And it doesn’t matter that I’ll lose you?” “We’ll find each other again. I believe that. If we have the doctor program a location, or a-a park, in both

our minds that we can meet up at...” ��Derik, that sounds so ludicrous. It’s not guaranteed that we’ll approach each other.” He grinned. “I’ll approach you. Trust me.” “I don’t look like her anymore—your dream girl. Do you realize that?” “They didn’t change your spirit, Leer,” he said, caressing her cheek. Throwing up her hands. “This is unbelievable.” “It’s the only way we can start over, babe.” “I want to continue right where we are,” she responded, pointing to the floor. “You can’t cheat when life

gets hard. You were right when you said we have to talk about this. So let’s talk.” “Talking about it isn’t the only way to help me, though.“ Lira sighed, a look of defeat now on her face. Later that night they slept in each other’s arms. Quietly

sobbing, dreading the morning, dreading the next phase of their lives. Too paranoid to have anything other than a television in the home, there was no Wi-Fi, no phone. Once

the second Adam was able to set up the meeting, a female doctor posing as a cleaning lady visited them. “You’re such a beautiful couple. Are you sure about this?” “Yes, we’re sure.” Lira did not answer the woman’s question, but addressed him. “I don’t think I can do it.”

“Baby—“ “No, there are too many things in my life that I don’t want to forget.” “Don’t you want to forget all that childhood abuse?” “If it means that I have to forget you and other special moments in my life, then I’ll keep everything.” “You would sacrifice a new me just to keep all that pain? Don’t forget the new me will come without the

memory of those mountains.” “There were some special moments that happened between us during that time as well. Moments that

fused us together even deeper when they couldn’t break us. And you’re throwing that away.” “I’d rather sacrifice that so we can have a second chance to do it all over again.” “The way we met,” she said shaking her head. “How about the way you massaged and kissed my feet?” “When we meet again, I’ll continue massaging and kissing your feet.” “I don’t trust this.” “You promised me last night, Leer.” “And this morning I came to my senses.” Derik sighed. He wasn’t going to get through to her. “Just promise me you’ll meet me in the State Park

at two o’clock?” “Of course I will be there...will you?” She turned toward the window. “Please, don’t make me do this. I

don’t want to do this to our parents. We’ll forget them, too.” “We’re dead to them anyway.” Lira could only shake her head in disbelief. “This isn’t right. It’s like we’re...committing suicide,” she

said, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “We should’ve just stayed with the Trade.” “Are you serious?!” he hissed, pulling her into the kitchen. “Are you serious? You don’t hear yourself!”

Derik took a deep breath and cut his eyes to hers, the intensity of the look taking her breath away. She didn’t speak, but watched him expectantly.

“I had to do things...that I can’t live with anymore. They made me—“ he whispered, peering down at her, his eyes wide with anguish. “They forced me to—“ he turned, holding his chest and leaning into the wall. “I can’t get it out of my head. I was trying to forget—I was trying to forget,” he said, turning to look at her, hoping she would understand. “I don’t deserve to have sex again, to have an erection again!” he cried, falling to the floor.

“Derik—“ she ran to him, wrapping her arms around him.

He raised a hand, pushing her away. “No! I don’t deserve it. I’m a predator just like them! I’m a monster, I’m not human,” he wept, looking defeated. “I can’t bear it, Leer. I can’t go on like this. There’s too many nightmares, too many. Then there’s too many what if I had taken us to the movies that night or what if I had made you a nice dinner and we cuddled up on the couch—constantly wondering if I’ll ever feel safe again, or if he’ll come after you? It’s been a few years since I first got rescued and I’m still angry enough to kill someone. I don’t want to be separated from you by bars, or a glass window. That would kill me.”

“Honey, we are both being tormented.” “Wiping the slate clean is the only way I can survive this. Just promise me you’ll find me.” “I don’t have to promise, because...I’m going to do this with you and let fate bring us together.” He grabbed her in a tight embrace, whispering her name over and over.

6 Months Later...

One refreshingly sunny day, Derik found himself drawn to a park near his apartment. The pull was so strong that he stopped resisting it after a while. He sat down on the bench inside the gazebo and gazed up into the sky. He detected a few rainclouds coming in and took out his cell. He aimed it up to take a photo of two Maple trees. Their intersecting leaves began to differ as the light changed. The tree with sunlight made the autumn leaves shine like tiny golden wings. The other, the rain clouds blocked the light, and though the leaves were a beautiful pale yellow, they weren’t as vibrant.

What had drawn him here? he wondered. He wasn’t going to leave until he was satisfied. A group of ducks began to gather a few feet away, nipping at the small bits of food on the ground as

something drew his attention to the flower shop behind him. He had the strangest feeling about this park. There was something familiar about it, but he couldn’t put

his finger on it. The sound of birds chirping, the quietness of the area, the peace he felt within the soft breeze elevated his spirits and he began to smile to himself.

The image of a woman stirred up in his mind and he looked around. He would laugh out loud if he found a beauty standing behind him, waiting for him. Sheepishly, he looked over his left shoulder, and spotted a man walking a dog, then looked back toward the flower shop. Like a dream, everything slowed down when a woman walked through the door. Staring, he slowly rose from the bench at the same time the rest of his body was turning in her direction.

She’s the reason, he thought, squinting in the sunlight. “She has to be,” he muttered softly.

Everything around him seemed to speed up in real time. A duck was pecking at his ankle, obviously looking for food. When he turned back, the man with the dog collided with the woman who’d just walked out of the flower shop in a matter of seconds. He hurried over to help. His hand slipped into hers as he lifted her, the stranger had the other hand.

“It’s okay,” she said smiling, suddenly looking at Derik’s hand then up into his face. “Wait a minute,” she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but do I know you? You seem so familiar.”

“No, but I have the same feeling...that we’ve met before,” he said, staring into her eyes and then at the red tear drop tattoo underneath the left one. “Oh,” he said, hitting his forehead. “I didn’t ask if you were okay.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you,” she said, her other hand coming to her throat.

The sparkle of her wedding ring grabbed his attention and choked at his heart. He could barely speak, not realizing that the wedding band she wore was his. She had forgotten to take it off before the hypnotism was performed.

“A-awesome. Good. Good to know,” he said, trying to keep his voice strong. Realizing they were still holding hands, Derik moved closer. Maybe she was separated, or divorced. How

would he know unless he asked? But how would he respond if she wasn’t a free woman? Just then the flower shop clerk came rushing out to make sure the lady wasn’t hurt.

In a fog, he looked down at his hand. It was open, and her hand was holding on firmly, but her grip gradually loosened and her fingers slipped from his. When he closed his hand, attempting to hold on a little longer, it was too late. The touch, the warmth, the possibility, was now out of reach.

He nodded quickly as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned away. A feeling of loss tightened around his chest and he looked up at the rain clouds with a small smile of disappointment. Soon, the commotion behind him began to fade. He forced his legs to keep moving down the sidewalk, taking one last look behind him.

[resetlifeofficial-blog]

Easy Home School Advice for Beginners

[resetlifeofficial-blog]

A salad for two...#foodie #dinnertime #family #love

[resetlifeofficial-blog]

My favorite shot from last summer. #flower #photography #mobilephotography #art #naturephotography #botsny #flowergarden

[resetlifeofficial-blog]

Take 36 seconds to breathe #resetlife #gardening #flowers #outdoors #asmr #life #nature

[resetlifeofficial-blog]

3 WEEKS

by S.M Phelon

Three weeks was all he had left with his wife...

The clouds were dark, grayish, but not threatening. It looked like it would storm, but the air felt rainless, so people left their homes without umbrellas. Except for the paranoid few. Michael, a blue-eyed, blonde American resident for the last six and a half years, strode down the sidewalk in search of his wife, Lillian. She was part Native-American, part Hawaiian, raised in Paris, and extremely independent. He saw her sitting on the park bench underneath her favorite tree, the Oak.

This time he didn’t find her playing chess with Ms. Baum, this time...she was talking to an old man. No doubt he was a stranger, and no doubt, the old geezer had already been flirting with his young wife. He hated that.

Lillian looked up just in time to see him swiftly heading her way. She waved, but her smile faltered when she saw the look on his face.

“Hi, honey. This is Chester. He’s been teaching me French naughty words. Isn’t that wicked?” She laughed ignoring his grumpy frown.

“Hi Chester. I’m the husband. May I talk to my wife, please. I mean, if it’s not interrupting your corruption session here.”

He turned away and walked over to the light post. He didn’t look at her, but he knew she was apologizing for his behavior, again.

“Why do you have to act like that with strangers?” she said. Her hands were on her hips now. Michael didn't acknowledge her. “I'm talking to you, Michael. Why are you ignoring me?”

He turned around slowly. “You have questions? Every time I turn around, you’ve got stray dogs trying to get into your lap. You’re never at home when I get off work, and I’ve been having a lousy day. I was hoping to come home, curl up in front of the TV with you, and watch an American football game. But no, I’m married to the Secretary of State. Why not visit this country once in a while,” he gestured toward himself.

“Your sarcasm isn’t needed, Michael. You know I hate it when you do that, because you’re never fair,” Lillian said. Her arms were crossed now.

From the side of his eye he noticed that Chester had moved closer to them. He gave him a curious look, but he only gave him a feeble smile. There was something strange about the old man’s eyes, not that one was dark brown and the other was ice blue. There was something deep inside them that made him uncomfortable. Some old people were creepers, sure, but Chester was...strange.

“Look we can go home now. I'll make dinner.”He turned to her then, eyes wide, “I’ve already eaten!”

Michael hated when they fought, but he was furious. He couldn’t cool down. They hadn’t been intimate in days, and he was at a breaking point. He hadn’t seen her all day, he wanted to kiss his wife, tell her how beautiful she is and fall into her eyes like he used to. That’s what he wanted, but the angst running up his spine made him weak to revealing so much of his feelings. However, something took over, put him in a rage, and caused him to miss out on the things he wanted.

And old, wrinkly, smiling Chester wasn’t making it any better. Did he just move closer to them again? The old man gave him a sad look, as if his older years taught him about women, and maybe he could give him some tips. He was ready to give the old guy a piece of his mind.

Lillian distracted him just then, “Well, as soon as I'm finished with my French lessons...” Michael’s hand balled into a fist. “There’s not a French word on this planet that you don’t know,Lillian.”

She laughed, and though it was playful and innocent, he felt pricked by it. “This is his old French, not ours,” she said.

“What difference does it make?" He asked.“Well, that’s just it. There are words I don’t know, because I’ve never heard these words before.”

Now she was at a breaking point. “Gosh, must everything I do irritate you so much?” she said. Lillian was about to walk away from him when Chester called his name. Both gave him a strange look. “Are you talking to me?” Michael frowned.

“Well, your name is Michael Phillips, is it not? So yes, I believe it is you I’ve been looking for.”

Lillian turned to fully face him. “Chester, what happened to your accent? And why are you talking like that? You sound like a storyteller.”

Chester, who was bent over, stood up and very straight. He wasn't a hunched over, wrinkly old man. He pulled off his beard and wig, and bowed in front of them. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Malechi.”

“Michael, honey,” Lillian said moving slowly by her husband’s side, “I didn’t know you had a twin brother.”

He began backing away, dumbfounded as he pulled her with him. “I don’t,” he said then shook himself. “You know all my brothers,” he said quickly glancing at her.

Malechi tossed his cane into the grass, and chuckled. With his hands behind his back, he proceeded to tell them why he was really there.

“I've been watching the two of you for quite some time. I like you both, but most of all...I like your wife (only because he could use her as a bargaining chip),” shifting his gaze intentionally to Lillian.

Michael’s passion began to awaken, instinctively he pushed her behind him, still paralyzed by the sight of this man who looked like him, aside from his dark eye and ice blue eye that looked cold and dead now.

Malechi smiled when he saw that Michael would allow him to continue. “I can destroy your marriage now, or you can try to win it back,” he said grinning.

“What do you mean win it back?” Michael asked frowning.

“Oh, your wife has given me permission to take her hand.”

Lillian gasped. “What are you talking about?!”

Malechi mocked a sorrowful look. “My old French, my dear, was not French at all. But an old language it is.” There was no humor in his eyes, and it made their skin crawl. “Let's go home, Lillian.”

He was suddenly deathly afraid of this man, or whatever he was. There was something serious about the whole scene, something seemed threatened, like the foundation of his world was about to fall from under him. Not the change that comes and then things are renewed, like the seasons, but the change that comes rushing through your life, leaving an indescribable destruction and emptiness.

“Are you worried, Michael? I'm not. I have every faith that at the end of three weeks your wife...will no longer be yours.”

Not sure how or when the man had gotten so close to them, Michael swung at him, hitting Malechi directly in the jaw. He grabbed Lillian’s wrist and started home. Halfway there, Lillian looked up and covered her scream with her palm. Malechi was sitting at the table of the outdoor cafe by the street that led to their town home.“Oh my god.” Michael's heart dropped. This was more serious than he had suspected. Suddenly, a fierce protectiveness rose inside him. What is happening, he wondered.

“You left before I could tell you the terms your wife has agreed to,” he said looking Michael in the eye. He nodded slowly when the husband turned to look at him. "Yes, my friend. She has agreed to my terms and didn't even know it. Or did she?” Malechi turned to meet Lillian's wide eyes with a malicious grin.

Michael looked at Lillian, he felt helpless. “Sweetheart, what did you—” But there was no use in asking, she hadn’t suspected anything sinister going on. He couldn't believe this was happening, he had to be asleep. This was just a horrible nightmare.

Malechi gestured for them to have a seat. Reluctantly, they did. Michael felt sick to his stomach. All these people surrounding him at the cafe and he felt like the loneliest person in the world just then. No one could save him from this nightmare. No one could help.

“You and your wife have three more weeks together after which I will come to collect her. You may spend it in anyway you see fit. Why you can even go on a short vacation if you like,” Malechi told them. “Just make sure she is waiting for me when I arrive...or you’ll regret it.”

The waiter came to the table. “What can I get you?” he asked. “Wow, I’ve never seen twins with different color eyes. That’s cool. Bet that messes up the tricks you could’ve played,” he chuckled. His chuckle died down once he glanced at the couple’s horrified faces.

Malechi ordered them something in perfect French in which the waiter replied, “Uh, that is good, but you will have three hours to wake.”

Michael looked up at him for the first time. “What did you say?”

The waiter looked uncomfortable. “You will have three minutes to wait...for the crepes.”

Michael was sure he had heard something else. It was kind of odd except for the fact that the mail guy from his job had said the same thing this morning, only, he had said seven hours.

“Why are you doing this? You cannot just have my wife. I'm not giving her to you.”

Malechi raised an eyebrow. “I'm not asking. Besides, what does it matter? You do not want this woman. And this is not some scheme to get you to trick you up, by the way. It is my job to find treasure, and I have found something very valuable that's being wasted on you, Michael.”

Lillian turned to her husband with a look of disbelief pouring from her eyes. She shook her head slightly, silently telling her husband she did not want to go anywhere. She pulled his hand to her bosom, her heart was beating so fast he thought it would burst.

On the chance that this was not a nightmare, Michael was curious. “You said I could win her back. What did you mean?”

But before Malechi could answer, Lillian cut in, appalled with his question. “You don't believe this...man, do you?! What are you thinking? I’m not going anywhere with him,” she whispered.

“Sweetheart, we are looking at the same guy...right?" He didn't know what else to say to that. It was obvious enough to him that he was not dreaming. “How, dammit?”

Some of the guests turned in their direction.

“Well, you might want to just give her to me now, because...you're not going to like my way,” he said, mocking a sad face.

Michael and Lillian glanced at one another, feeling the dread seeping through them both. They sat in silence, watching the smiling Malechi wait patiently as they excepted the events unfolding before them. It was too impossible to believe.

“Why do you want me? There are plenty of husbands who don't really want to be married to their wives. There are some who even beat their wives—why not go after them?” he said.

“Who says I haven’t? Besides, I like you. And I've talked to the both of you, and both had nothing but complaints about the other,” Malechi said as he shifted his gaze to a confused, wide- eyed Michael.

“When have I ever spoken to you?” Michael was outraged.

“Saturday night...the sports bar across town. We had the greatest time watching American football. We had a few beers...a few stories were swapped.”

Michael closed his eyes. “You son of a bitch. That didn’t mean I didn’t want her. I just needed to vent.” This nightmare was getting worse and he didn't even think it was possible. “I'm going to take my wife, and we're going to go home.” They stood up, hand in hand, and walked slowly away from the table.

Malechi tilted his head slightly and smiled. “That’s quite alright with me. Your countdown has started. I’ll see you in three weeks, Lillian.” Michael lurched toward him, but his wife put her entire body in front of him.

“Let's just go, peacefully,” she whispered, laying a hand against his chest. He turned abruptly and pulled Lillian with him. He's not taking my wife, he whispered to himself, He's not taking my wife.

When they reached home, they climbed the short three floors up, and flopped down on the couch once inside. Neither said a word. They stared out the balcony doors until the sun was now on the other side of the brownstone building. Lillian was scared, she was still trembling.

Michael turned to her. “Lillian, I believe him. No, let me say this. I'm scared. The fact that he even looks like me makes me...sick to my stomach. I don't even want to think about the implications of that, or I swear I'll lose my freaking mind. We can't let the last three weeks of our time together be wasted on arguing and complaining.” He held her face in his hands. “We have to really love one another, I mean, like we never have before. From the way it sounds, I'm going to be left here alone. I don't even know where you're going.” Tears streamed down his face. “I have to make memories I can live on. Can you help do that for me?” he asked.

“I don't want to go anywhere,” she cried. “Michael, I don't want to leave you. Please don't let him take me...please.” She buried her face in his chest. “Maybe if we loved each other properly, it will break the deal.”

Michael wrapped her in his arms as the thought of it made her think it was a stupid idea and she bawled all over again. “Shhh, don't cry. I'll think of something.”

They stayed that way for another hour. The feel of her in his arms was comforting. He memorized the softness of her body resting in his. He memorized the way her hair fell over his arm, and the fragrance filling his nostrils.

“You know that little spot by the lake you wanted to have lunch? Let's go there and have lunch. By the time we get there, though, we'll have to watch the moon,” he said, a sly grin on his lips. Lillian tried to answer him, but could only nod as she shuddered against him in sobs.

They made love before going to the lake. Instead of rushing, Michael took his time enjoying the feel of his wife's body, as did she with him. They tried their best not to break eye contact whenever it was possible. It was so beautiful, so bittersweet, that they couldn't help but shed a few tears. They got dressed, watching each other and smiling. Michael, for some strange reason felt as if they were meeting for the first time. Lillian looked as if she was having similar feelings. He blew a kiss to her.

The next week, they spent every waking moment together. Luckily he had saved up a month's worth of off-days so it was a tremendous help. One of the first places they went to was the library...they didn't know what they were looking for, but maybe, they thought, it would eventually lead somewhere that would give them answers.

��Hey, look at this. I think I found something: 'A trickster is a deceiver, a cheat, a fraud. A person who plays tricks' and this is what the dictionary says. I remember my father telling me something about this when I was a kid. And the bible has also called another by that name: the deceiver,” Michael said, slowly turning to Lillian.

“What the heck does that mean?” She asked, looking at him as if she were expecting him to tell her who this man is.

“That we’re dealing with the Devil, Lillian.” He wasn't sure where to go from there, but it was a start.

“I don't believe in that trickster stuff, or the devil. I didn’t grow up like that,” she waved her hand across her face. “It’s something else. Maybe some dealing in black magic or something.”

“The black magic has to come from somewhere, doesn’t it? Lillian, he isn't human. I can't let something come and take you that isn't human, but I sure as hell don’t know how to stop it.”

Lillian watched him as he poured through book after book looking for answers. “Can we just leave the country?” she asked out of desperation.

Michael looked in her eyes willing himself not to fall apart. “We can’t outrun a demon, baby.” “Why is it doing this to us?” she asked more to herself than to her husband.

“We can't be the only ones. He was in a disguise. Maybe he thought he would be recognized. I don't know,” Michael said throwing his hands up.

“This sounds so crazy when we talk about it out loud,” Lillian said a little too loudly. She looked around, apologizing to the other library patrons. Then she saw him. Malechi. He was smiling at her. It looked like the same smile of her husband, but with sinister spine tingling glare of his weirdly colored eyes.

“Leave us alone!” she cried.

“Lillian, honey, keep it down or they'll kick us out of here.” He looked in the direction in which she was shouting. Michael jumped over the table, heading straight for him. Within seconds, he and Malechi were on the floor wrestling. He had worn his disguise, so everyone nearby just saw an old man. He put his hands over his head as the husband's punches rained down upon him. Michael felt strong hands pulling him away. He fought those, too.

“Stop! You don't know who this is!”

A policeman had been called from the street. Three men were holding Michael back when he came in. Michael had no way of knowing how to explain his behavior. They were ready to put him in jail when he begged them not to. “You don't understand. I only have two weeks left. My time is precious, every second of it...please. I'm begging you,” his voice breaking.

The police didn't understand why a grown healthy man was beating up an elderly man, and cuffed him without question. “It's not me, son, he's the one who's going to press charges,” the policeman told him, pointing at Malechi being helped up off the floor.

Michael pleaded silently with Malechi.

The trickster stayed in his old man form as he wobbled over to the policeman, and whispered something in his ear. “I don't really understand, but it's your decision.”

The handcuffs were removed. Michael and Lillian sighed, holding one another.

He turned to the book he was about to check out. All the pages had been singed. Frowning, slightly, he tried to remember the title of the book, but try as he might he could not recall the name of the book. He looked up at Malechi. The old looking man brought his finger up and waved it.

“No cheating,” he said, glaring at him.

The next week, (time off from work?) they spent most of their time in the bedroom. They bought groceries to last three or four days at a time. They cooked together, danced while they cooked, and made love in the kitchen as dinner slowly burned on the stove. All they could do was laugh, and then they laughed some more because of all the other times it wasn't so funny...but could have been.

“This is week three, honey, what would you like to do?” he asked, smiling weakly. “First, I would like you to stop counting down. Then, I want to...” she whispered.

“Sweetheart, my back is really sore,” he said. When he saw her bottom lip stick out slightly, he added, “Let me run to the market for some icy hot...then meet me in the bedroom,” he smiled.

Lillian squealed and ran to the back room. She lit candles, brought out her peach scented massage oil and some towels. She loved Michael's massages, and always wondered why he never became a masseur. She heard the door shut and rushed to finish setting up the ambience: the music. She placed herself on the table and eagerly awaited his fingers to massage her aching muscles. She heard him put the bag on the dresser before he crossed the room.

“Perfect timing,” he said as he picked up the warm oil and poured it down her spine. Lillian shivered. She moaned when his hands smoothed over her shoulders and down her back. When his hands did it a second time she jumped.

“Michael, something sharp on your fingers is scratching me,” she said.

“I know it will take some time getting used to, but you'll have to call me Malechi if this marriage is going to work.”

Lillian bolted from the table screaming. She wailed as the dark figure came toward her. “Michael! Where's my husband?!” she screamed louder as he came around the table. “I'm right here, darling," Malechi said calmly.

Lillian screamed some more. Michael burst through the door just then. “Get away from her,” he hissed.

Lillian grabbed a towel, and wrapped herself in it. Malechi turned on Michael. “Your time is up, my friend. You've had your chance. Look what you did with it,” he taunted. Malechi swung at Michael this time, catching him in the temple, causing him to stumble and hit the wall with the back of his head. As he lay on the floor, bleeding and disoriented, he saw Malechi grab his wife. She fought, she screamed, but she could not disentangle herself from his grip.

Michael couldn't get up, he tried but slid down the wall and back to the floor. “No, wait,” he said as the two moved closer to the window.

“Michael, please. Help me,” Lillian whispered in sobs.

“Don't do this. Malechi,” saying his name for the first time, “Don't do this. I want my wife, I need her,” he said dropping his hands to the floor.

“Wake up, Michael. It's time to say goodbye. Say goodbye, Lillian.”

Michael's eyes widened as he pulled her up on the windowsill. “No,” Michael whispered, his head spinning. The second foot landed on the windowsill. “Wait!” Michael cried before losing consciousness. The last thing he heard before blackness settled in was his wife screaming his name.

“Whatever I say?” Malechi asked once Michael regained consciousness. “What?”

“Before you fainted you said you’d do whatever I asked.”

“I don’t remember saying that. Wait, where’s Lillian?”

“Waiting for me,” he smiled maliciously.

“Yes, I’ll do whatever you ask, just release her. You can have me.”

“You forget to whom you speak.” Malechi walked closer to him. “I need leverage.” “You have my word.”

“Which means nothing...just like mine.”

The next morning he awakened in his bed with a tremendous headache. He looked at the time: a quarter after eleven. He never purposefully slept this late. Just then his cell rang, he almost jumped out of his skin.

"You taking the day off, Mike? We had a meeting today..." a friend from work started. Michael frowned. "What is today?" He asked.

"Friday, man. Where have you been?"

Michael's heart was racing. "No! What day!" He shouted. His eyes widened as his friend from

work quoted the date that was three weeks ago. How can it be three weeks prior when it was three weeks past? He had just lived through twenty-one hellacious days. He was confused.

"Wake up, Mike," his friend said before hanging up.

Oh I am, he thought, I am fully awake. He threw his clothes on and rushed out the house. He ran to Lillian's job.

"She's at lunch. She's probably in the park," Lillian's co-worker yelled after him as he burst out the door.

He ran the whole way. His side was hurting and he was breathless, but he didn't care. Then he saw her. She was walking, but she was alone, and then looked over and saw the old man. He started to yell her name when he saw the old man slowly reach out, calling to her. She noticed him and smiled innocently. Before she could shake the old man's hand, Michael yelled. She turned, startled. He was running toward her as fast as he could.

"Oh my god. What's going on?" She said.

"I need you to follow me. If you've never trusted me before, trust me now with your life.

Please. Walk and I will tell you on the way."

Lillian saw the seriousness in his eyes, and didn't ask another question. Michael turned

around, the old man was looking at him very strange. Suddenly, he smiled at Michael, stood up, very straight, and whistled as he walked along the path through the park.

The next day at work, Michael finally felt some sense of stability. He and Lillian had spent the rest of the day together. She had called in sick and he took one of his sick days. When they slept that night, they were entwined so tightly that they awakened the next morning in the same position. Lillian didn't know what had gotten into her husband, but if a nightmare was what he needed to inspire him to get their relationship out of the muck, then she was loving the new man.

Michael sat there at his desk smiling. It was over, and he was so relieved he wanted to cry. He looked up as his co-worker walked through the door.

"I just passed your wife in the lobby," he said.

His wife. Michael loved the sound of that. His smile faltered, though, on the next remark...

"Did Lillian get color contacts," he asked putting the mail on the desk opposite of Michael's, not giving him a chance to answer the question. "I was just wondering, but that's not the weird part. Our secretary knows your wife, but she insisted that Christine tell you her name is Lalliin," he looked up at Michael, who was slowly turning white as a ghost. "Is that your wife's middle name, or something?"

[resetlifeofficial-blog]

King

A story about love, failure and triumph

By Shae Marie

Though concrete it may be, this is your jungle, and here...you are King. I watch you, Warrior, as you rise before the Sun to begin your day of hunting; providing for your family always rouses you. Sleep has its grip on you, but once you taste the new day, savoring its opportunities, sleep is at your mercy instead.

With sleepy eyes, I marvel at the way you walk to and fro throughout our cave, preparing your weapons, your plans, and your mind, for the treasures this day has for you...no matter how elusive they may be. I smile for I know you are intense in your preparations, each tool must be in excellent shape to perform its duty: ensnaring your prey. And why do you capture such prey? Why do you prepare so diligently? Why do you take such care to dress in your best warrior-like attire?

To provide the best for your woman and your little ones. You are the Lion in this jungle, and taking care of your pride is your greatest joy. With these thoughts, I, your Lioness, eagerly await your return.

I take on a different form. No longer a Lioness, I am now a lady Hawk in the sky, watching over you as you leap upon the highest hill to scour the terrain. You look for foot trails, animal dumpings, or the evidence of sleeping beasts. Your search is precise, your gaze, penetrating. I see the look in your eyes as I swoop down below to perch in a nearby tree. You turn to look at me, and I wonder if you are thinking that I am a friend, or that I am dinner. I am paralyzed by your intense gaze. Then something captures your attention and you look away. I feel released by a grip so strong that I exhale.

Stillness comes upon me as your eyes narrow. You have spotted the Wildebeest, and lower yourself in the tall grasses of the Serengeti to wait. The beast is cautious. It looks out among the vast area, its eyes scanning the land. The

beast knows there is a huge risk in looking for a drink, but its overwhelming thirst causes it to venture out in search of water. Poised, heart beating deeply in your chest, you patiently wait for him to come a little closer. With my Hawk's view I can see the sweat glistening from your body, and the expansion of your massive back. You know this prey is yours. You have no doubt, no worries, no fears. And when the moment is right, your strike is deadly. But something happens that you least expect. Before the dying beast gives up his last fight, his hoof catches you in the thick muscle of your thigh. And when you fall back, you land on a sharp rock, slicing your arm. Blood spurts on the tall grass mixing with that of the newly felled animal's. You work quickly as instincts and skill take over. Between grunting and gritted teeth, you dress your wounds with stitches and a soothing salve.

Suddenly, there is a movement in the distance. You sniff the air: a Jackal is nearby. And he has come for your prize.

I watch the anger spread over your face, the rage in your eyes as you play over in your mind, within seconds, the result of him taking what you've sacrificed blood and sweat to get. With blood soaked linen wrapped tightly around your wounds you stumble to your feet. The pain not quite a memory, but certainly not a priority.

The Jackal stands in front of you, boldly, and it is only when you look over your shoulder that you see you are surrounded. You glance over your shoulder quickly, but not turning fully away from the growling Jackal in front of you. You assess them in mere seconds. They picked the wrong Lion to tussle with. Even with your wounds you are a formidable opponent, and prove it as you narrow your own vicious gaze toward the enemy. You notice his slight hesitation before he attacks, and you smile. In his hesitancy, that small amount of time that can either be blessing or detriment, he never notices the steel blade appear in your hand. One slice to the throat and he slumps at your feet. The others step back, but instead of retreating, they plan a group attack.

High in the sky, I watch in silence as they close in on you, then attack and steal your labor. My heart breaks for you. There is nothing I can say, nor anything I can do, but watch as you bellow angrily to the heavens. Your injuries, threatening. Your treasure, gone. No one is present but you...and your King. Get up, you hear a voice say. But you are too broken. You do not have the strength. There is no remorse in this voice, but there is understanding...a knowing and an unmistakable power. Tears trickle down your dirt-stained cheeks as you grunt and pull your body toward home. The journey is long, hard and telling.

Where did I go wrong? How did I not anticipate their attack? you ask yourself over and over.

You roll your eyes to the setting sky as you see me standing near the foothills of our cave. You have the horrible task, more terrible than the injuries you've suffered, of telling me that you've failed. Though on the way home, you have managed to snag a few rabbits to sustain us for the night.

No longer the watchful lady Hawk, I am the Lioness once more, and I welcome you home with open arms. I see your battered and bruised body, and I cringe. But there is no time to cry, my heart will do that as I tend to your wounds. Even as you lie upon the feathered mat, resting, throbbing with pain, you are still out in the meadows, your mind still on the hunt. I return to find a look of dissatisfaction upon your handsome brow. I smile to myself, because after I tend to your wounds, I will then tend to you. But later, it is time for dinner. And after feeding you, bathing you, and loving you, you sleep soundly throughout the night. With your deep even breathing as music to my ears, I drift into sleep thanking the heavens for such a treasure. My warrior...my King.

The morning opens up, the sun shines right into the darkness of our cave, and I turn to wake you. But you have already risen. You have your “gear” on again. And the same look of determination etched upon your brow that mirrors the previous morning. Today you rise a little slower, but the wounds suffered yesterday

do not keep you from returning to the meadows today. In silence you move stealthily throughout the cave. Not once do you turn to look at me, but I know without a doubt your mind is overwhelmed with my presence, and that of our little ones.

You move to the entrance of the cave. I watch you hitch the large sack over your shoulder, stifling a groan. I wince, my heart shedding tears for you as you struggle to tune out the pain wracking your body. You turn your head, your dark eyes locking with mine, and give me a slight nod before heading out. That gaze is the equivalent of saying: I love you more than my comfort. I love you more than my self. It dawns on me then, this look in your eyes...it means you will be gone for a long while. I watch your strong back as you walk out toward the vast range full of Jackals and Hyenas to find an even greater treasure than the one that was taken from you.

The spirit of the lady Hawk within me returns, and I watch a determined warrior, the wind blowing over you as you traverse hills and plateaus. Though there is no ocean nearby, you are still a man of the sea. You follow the signs of the skies, the direction of the winds, the evidence in the grounds to locate the best path. It takes a good part of the day before you find the perfect place to set up camp. For hours you sit still in one spot to await the beast unaware. Idly, small rabbits appear. Your hunger is quickened despite the jerky you have to sate your appetite. But the rabbits are savory, and a strong craving entices you to stray from your set course.

You are faced with a dilemma now. Your quarry is nearby. If there is any sign or scent that you are there, then the beast will take a different route. Still, you eye the succulent rabbits with thoughts of extreme satisfaction aching in your belly. They do not know you are there, for you are covered from head to toe in animal dung to throw off the scent. They come closer. All you have to do is reach out and grab them, but you cannot eat them without cooking them. You're annoyed, but tear into a piece of jerky, chewing it, eyes closed, while your focus returns, and frustration wanes.

Within moments you spot your prize, eyes widen as you observe a second Wildebeest behind it that you did not expect. Your sights expand and you will not be satisfied unless you are dragging both of them back to your cave. It might be impossible, but you feel unstoppable. One leg comes down, then another as you slip from the small tree and into the tall grass, a spear in one hand, a steel blade in the other. But just as you approach, the Jackals and Hyenas rise from within the grass as well. They have been watching all along.

Lightning strikes suddenly and it begins to rain. No matter, you think. Only one thing will be left standing when I'm done. The Jackals charge you. The Hyenas pursue the beasts. You sneak up behind a distracted Jackal, your sweeping blade connecting with its neck, and then roll away. Your sights are on the Hyenas, and ferocity causes you to run faster. No time for revenge, providing for your home is your only motivation now. You catch up and take Hyenas out, one by one. A Jackal lands on your shoulders and you both tumble to the ground. A squeal escapes me and fills the night air. My eyes are sharp in the dark as I watch, under the moonlight, a true struggle of strength.

Your blade is tossed to the grass, and the Jackal falls upon your chest. You quickly wrap your hands around its neck and twist. No time to celebrate the victory. You scurry to your feet in search of your dagger, but your spear will have to do. You throw it, the spear turning and glistening in the moonlight as it plunges into its mark. Again, no time. Running, you pull the spear from the fallen creature, and throw it a second time toward the Hyena approaching your prey. Without warning, you tumble to the ground, a Jackal races past you not predicting your sudden stop. Pushing yourself to your feet, you jump upon his back, hooking your elbow around his neck and not letting go until his body slumps to the ground.

Each predator is extinguished, one by one, but instead of going straight for your prize, you run ahead of them. The Wildebeests are spooked and turn in the other direction. You have a plan. To get them as close to your territory as you can, though you have no idea how you will kill them without a weapon. Then you

remember. You move to the far right of the animals so that they are forced to move left. Closer they come to the area where your blade has fallen. With it being so dark, you wonder if you will find it in time. No matter. I will use my hands if I have to, you vow, not allowing yourself to think these beasts will escape you. All you can think about is the look in your woman's eyes when she sees what you have brought home.

You have reached the area, but you cannot see the blade. If the animals get out of your control, they will be lost to you. This will not happen again, you think. Please! You look to the heavens for help. The winds blow, and the clouds move away from the moon. An object sparkles under the light of it, and immediately you smile: your blade. Leaving everything else behind, you swipe the blade up as you sprint by, pushing the animals on. Two animals. One blade. This must be perfect. You pick up speed, pressing hard across the meadows, circling them, spooking them, controlling them all the way until you see signs of your home coming into view. It's time. You run alongside one animal and swipe quickly at his neck. Slowly he tumbles to the ground as you go after the other...

You stand at the entrance of your home, chest deeply rising, and deeply falling. You are tired, worn out, and even a little weary, but no doubt glad to be there with your treasure in tow.

Instincts lead me to check the front entrance, and I find you there. The dark circles underneath your eyes make my heart swell. I know you've been working hard. My own eyes widen at the light I see twinkling in yours, and I am confident you've gotten the “treasure” you sought. I grab your tie and pull you inside the house. I place your briefcase and backpack on the floor, and wrap my arms around your neck. I'm aware of your fatigue, and easily pull your body against mine. You're so exhausted it seems if I could lift you and carry you to bed, you'd let me. We kiss slowly, deeply, passionately.

After dinner, the children bombard you with questions and excitement, sharing their adventures of the day. A while later I peel them out of your arms and

send them away to get ready for bed. I laugh. Despite your fatigue, you do nothing to discourage them from talking and jumping all over you.

My desire for you increases then. I take your hand, leading you upstairs, smiling at you from the corner of my eye so you can see how pleased I am. Slowly, I remove your clothing and set them aside. I then guide you over to the bed, and let you watch as I remove mine. Your hungry eyes moving over my body heightens my desire even more. I lay over you, smoothing my soft cheek along your stubbly one, delighting in your rough spots and your soft ones as I kiss your lips. Even though you're exhausted, sleepy, and ready to doze off, your body moves and I tumble to the bed on my back. Now you are on top, and proceed to show me why you are He, and I am She.

Much later, I drift off into sleep with the sound of your deep breathing by my ear. I think about your life, your existence and my heart expands. The more compassion, the more understanding I have for you as a Man, I am compelled to take care of you, and love you, as a Husband. Even though you would much rather be wild and free, you attend your board meetings, your interviews, your business endeavors. Temptations to cut corners or cheat others are many, but they are resisted, mentally and bodily. You know your prize awaits you, and you are determined to get it with your dignity in tact. When opportunities seem out of your reach, I have the utmost respect for you, because you reach for them still. You wake up every morning ready to face the world, your previous wounds and failures not a distant memory, but certainly not a hindrance as you focus on the goals ahead. And when you come home to my waiting arms, I am in awe of you. You are the warrior I have always dreamed of, and here...you are King