age. A young, naive teenager with a much older man.
‘What’s up?’ Michael asked. ‘You look scared stiff.’
I tried to laugh off my nerves and misgivings. ‘No. Of course not.’
‘What, you don’t like the bedroom or something?’
‘I love it,’ I insisted, nodding at the compact bedroom with cool cube-patterned sheets and plump cream pillows. ‘It’s nicer than my apartment.’
‘Come here then.’ Michael pulled me forward, and I stumbled inside.
Michael closed the door behind us, then led me to the bed. ‘Are you sure you’re not nervous? You seem a little terrified.’
I tried to laugh again as Michael put on music: his own.
‘Just a little cold.’
As Michael undressed me, my body grew stiffer. He really was so much older. And was it okay to have sex? The hospital said I was fully healed, but was I?
Michael must have noticed I looked frightened, because he said: ‘I thought you’d done this before, honey. You really do look scared stiff.’
I faked a smile then, embarrassed. The last thing I wanted was to look inexperienced or naive.
‘No,’ I said, words steely. ‘Not at all.’
‘Good,’ said Michael. ‘We don’t want any amateurs here. This isn’t amateur night.’
I helped Michael take my clothes off then and he kissed every part of my body from head to toe. At first, he stayed away from any sexual areas deliberately and completely. In short, he knew the moves and I was able to relax. A lot.
I did things that night that I’d never done before. Sex in three different positions. Oral sex, giving and receiving. Truthfully, I would have done anything to impress Michael and show him I definitely wasn’t nervous. Even though I was.
When the sex finished, Michael and I lay in each other’s arms. He stroked my hair and watched me for a long time, then fell asleep and snored. I looked at the walnut dash ceiling, thinking how crazy life was.
Not so long ago, I’d been in a hospital bed, looking at white Styrofoam tiles and thinking they might be the last thing I would ever see.
Now I was in the arms of Michael Reyji Ray. This was my rebirth. A new beginning.
I’d spent my life running with a heavy backpack. Now finally, I could take it off.
Michael and I would get married and live happily ever after, just like a fairy tale.
I was sure of it.
Nick and I lay together in bed, my head on his chest.
‘Are you still awake?’ I ask the ceiling.
‘Yes,’ says Nick.
‘What’s the difference between protective and suffocating?’ I ask.
Nick snorts. ‘Probably only a few inches of padding.’
I laugh too. ‘I locked Liberty’s phone in the safe.’
‘Lorna.’ I feel Nick shake his head. ‘Why’d you do that?’
‘She was using it to find out about her father,’ I said.
‘And you think taking her phone is going to stop her? Come on. Let her get out there and make her own mistakes.’
We both listen for a moment, hearing Darcy’s gentle murmurs. But then they fall silent.
‘Phew,’ says Nick.
Darcy used to scream the place down at bedtime. But we’ve got a routine going now, same thing every night. I take her around the house, showing her how I lock everything up, door locks, chains, deadbolts. Then we do a bath (exactly 37 degrees) and count her yellow soft toys, all thirty of them. Now she goes to bed like a dream and sleeps until morning.
Nick and I lie in silence for a moment. Then I blurt it out: ‘Liberty knows who her father is.’
‘How?’ Nick asks. ‘You won’t tell me or Liberty the first thing about the guy. Not even his name. How could she have found out?’
‘She found some stuff on the internet about him. And me.’ I shiver against Nick’s warm body.
Nick’s arms stiffen. ‘What stuff on the internet?’
‘Photos of me and her father. When we were younger. I don’t know if it’s enough, but … I’m so scared, Nick.’
‘Scared of what?’
‘She might try to find her father.’ I take a shaky breath. Breathe, breathe.
‘I think you have to get a bit real with this,’ says Nick. ‘How long are you going to be able to keep Liberty away from this guy? If she wants to see him, she will. No matter what you do.’
I ignore him. ‘I’ve just got to keep hammering it home. How dangerous he is. Until she gets the message.’
‘How dangerous are we talking, exactly?’
‘How dangerous do you want him to be? Dangerous. Isn’t that enough?’
‘It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just …’
‘You think there are two sides to the story.’
‘I haven’t heard either side of the story,’ says Nick. ‘You’ve told me nothing. And whenever I ask, you close up. Does your sister know about him?’
‘Dee? Yes.’
‘You can tell her but not me?’
‘I didn’t tell her, Nick. She was there. She saw it all.’
‘Do you know what I think? I think you’re running scared and you should face up to all this. You should at least talk about what happened. You shouldn’t run away from it. Face your problems.’
‘You can’t face Liberty’s father. That’s not how it works. He twists everything around.’
‘So move on and let all the fear go.’
‘I can’t do that either. If I let my guard down, he’ll get in.’
‘You know, Lorna, even criminals get visitation with their children. Why don’t you set something up? In a safe space.’
I swallow, feeling sick. ‘If you knew him like I do, you wouldn’t even suggest something like that.’
‘So tell me about
