Double Dealing: A Menage Romance

He drifted off. I don't know if it was into sleep or a pain-induced delirium, and the other leaders of the Romani families paid their respects and left.

I checked on Syeira and Charani and retreated to Felix's room, looking around. It still seemed surreal, that the very next day I'd be saying goodbye to him. I could smell him in the air still, and my mind played back memories of our times together. In the silence and solitude, I was able to admit to myself the truth that had haunted me since Francois came in saying that Felix had been killed. I may have been with Francois first, but Felix was the one who truly had my heart. I picked up his pillow and held it to my face, sobbing as I thought of going through the rest of my life without him. Even with Francois, Felix had been the perfect man for me. That he was generous enough to share me with his brother just made him even more perfect.

Somehow, in that sadness, I felt something bloom inside me. Perhaps it was just an insane hope, but I felt his presence, his spirit with me. My tears trickled off and my eyes cleared, and I looked around the room. If I was to say goodbye to Felix, how was I going to do it?

Guided by the spirit that was touching me, I looked, and saw on the dresser the violin case. Unlatching it, I opened the cover to reveal the deeply stained spruce of the front of the instrument. For the first time in years, I reached out and touched the neck without feeling the slightest turn in my belly of fear. Instead, love and sadness mixed, compelling me to pick up the instrument and pluck the strings, one after another, adjusting the tune as needed until I found the perfect tension. Sealing the case back up, I picked it up and slid the shoulder strap over my head, leaving it on my back.

I found Charani in the main room of the house, tending to the preparations for a light lunch. "I'm going out," I said, causing her to look up. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw what was on my back, then she nodded in understanding. “I’ll be back when I’m ready."

"Let your heart say what it needs to say," she advised me. "That’s all you need to do."

I left and thought about it for a moment, before heading down toward the river. It wasn't the ocean, but it would do. I needed quiet, and I needed water. It’d always been my muse when I searched for the right notes to convey my emotions.





Chapter 29





Felix




"Wake up, my pet."

I groaned and opened my eyes, disorientation washing over me. I'd gotten used to the feeling, and knew it was a side effect of whatever the hell it was they were pumping into my container/cell. Other than plates of food that were delivered on a regular basis, I hadn't seen sunlight in what seemed like forever.

At least they'd started giving me light. It wasn't much, just a bare forty watt bulb that dangled on a wire, but at least I could see my surroundings when I was awake. Not that there was much to see, mind you. A pallet that I found was made of cardboard boxes that had been flattened out and piled up, topped with a thin foam rubber mattress, six more boxes that had been turned on their sides to create what could best be described as cubbyholes, and a plywood floor. There was nothing else if you ignored the opening with the small piece of rubber hose that they pumped whatever the hell it was that was causing me to sleep.

I didn't even know how long I'd been there. With the drugs that were most certainly inundating the air of the container, I could have been sleeping sixteen hours a day, or doing lots of two and three-hour naps that were meant to make me think a day had passed. Even when I was awake, I felt lethargic, so there was little to help me try to keep track of time.

Rolling to the side, I blinked. At least it was somewhat dim outside, roughly sunrise I thought. At least, that was what my inner compass was telling me, that the glow on the horizon was coming from the rising sun of the east and not the setting sun of the west. I shivered in my thin clothes, wrapping the blanket I'd been given tighter around my shoulders.

"My pet? Over here," the same voice repeated, and I shivered not at the cold, but at the desire to listen to that voice again. It was lilting and teasing, with that Russian accent that stirred deep within my body. I shook my head, fighting it. It had to be the conditioning, right? "Come now Felix, don't be a naughty kitty."

I looked, and had to repress the urge to swallow a lump in my throat. Even if I hadn't been under the influence of whatever drugs the Russians were using, she was a beautiful woman, that was clear. Tall, with deep blonde hair that hung all the way to her waist and ice blue eyes, she looked like someone had used her as the model for Elsa in that Disney movie. That she was wearing just jeans and a sweater that hugged every curve of her luscious body didn't help matters.

"Don't call me kitty," I said, trying to keep my anger going. I found that when I was pissed off, I at least could think a little bit more clearly. "I'm nobody's goddamn pet."