Take Me With You

He's shocked too.

That's not Vesper Rivers. At least not the “before” version. She would have never lost her patience or insulted that woman. She would have gone out of her way to make the blabbing, rude woman feel comfortable, despite how uncomfortable that woman made her feel. She would have made sure everyone was understood around her, because she could absorb the insults, she could handle the hurt feelings, so long as no one else would have to.

I flounce past Carter right to the car. He chases after me, calling my name, but I don't stop until I am at the passenger side door. He gets in and unlocks my door. I sit with a thud, a physical protest to I'm not sure what.

“Vesp, what happened out there? Did she recognize you?” he asks.

“Don't worry about it. I'm fine.”

Carter shakes his head. “You keep telling me not to worry, that you're fine.” He shifts in his seat to lean towards me. “You think I don't know you? That I don't see you're hurting? I know you've been crying in the bathroom. I know you're scared still. But I can't help you if you don't talk to me. I've been giving you space, but I need to understand. What happened to you?”

The question has been lingering in his eyes since I came back. He watches me, as if the story was written on my skin and if he could just study it then he would understand. I haven't told him anything he didn't already know—that I was taken. Because even the version he would expect, the one he would want to hear, it's going to change the way he sees me forever. He'll know that some man fucked me like his personal plaything for months. That he stripped me, tied me up and starved me, so that I had no choice but to give in. That the man in the mask fucked me in places and ways I never let Carter explore. That he came in me just as many times as, if not more, than Carter ever did if I add it all up. Because he was insatiable. He craved me like a starved predator. But I don't even think I can tell that story without the thrill of it all sneaking its way onto my face, making my chest heave with fear and excitement, without getting wet.

And he'll know I grew to crave the man in the mask as much as he craved me. I'll lose Carter because he'll see I'm lost. The hunted is not supposed to yearn for the hunter. What Sam and I have is unnatural. It's aberrant. It's abhorrent.

“You don't want to know…” I rasp.

“Tell me what happened. You can trust me,” he says, brushing away a tear. “You know I am trained to hear this stuff. I can take it. You don't want to see anyone, but you need to talk to someone. You can trust me.” The outside of his hand caresses my cheek, and he finds that strand of hair that keeps escaping and tucks it back for me.

I'm sick. Sam's made me sick. Because just thinking about what I would tell Carter about him—the flashes of his feline eyes, the curves and lines of muscle along his naked body, the scars, like he has been so close to hell that it singed him—I'm throbbing all over; awakened.

I can't tell Carter what happened, not even in curated doses. So I do what I learned from the devil: I lean in and kiss Carter. Not softly, not seeking permission. I take. I won't give him a chance to wonder if this is the right thing. I'll make him feel so good, he'll stop caring about what matters. Just like Sam did to me. I give the affection he has been desperately wishing for when his body stiffens in my presence, holding back the urges to touch me.

I do it to distract him from the questions. To pretend I'm fine. I do it, using Carter as a milquetoast substitute for Sam.

“Stop, Vesp,” he moans, but he doesn't push me away.

I climb on top of Carter, in the driver's seat, and between my legs, I feel that it's working. That he won't ask me any more questions tonight. I just hope I can do this without changing him the way Sam changed me.





Forks and knives clink against burnt orange Fiestaware as we sit in silence around my mother's dinner table. She's back. Finally. We picked her and the doctor up at the airport, where she put on her best show of an emotional reunion. She was so excited to have me back. So excited, in fact, that she made sure to finish out her trip in the Amazon, staying the two extra days after she got word of my return.

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