J. Redmerski - Reviving Izabel

Sarai

Its been eight months since I escaped the compound in Mexico where I was held against my will for nine years. Im free. Im living a normal life, doing normal things with normal people. I havent been attacked or threatened or followed by anyone who might still want me dead. I have a best friend, Dahlia. I have the closest thing to a mother Ive ever known. Dina Gregory. What more could I ask for? Seems selfish to expect anything more. But despite all that I have, one thing has not changed: Im still living a lie.

I have friends back in California: Charlie, Lea, Alex andBrino, wait, I mean Brandi. My ex-boyfriend, Matt, was abusive and hes the reason why I moved back to Arizona. He stalked me for a long time after we broke up. I got a restraining order, but that didnt keep him away. He shot me eight months ago, but I cant prove it because I didnt actually see him. And Im just too afraid to turn him in to the police.

Of course, every bit of that is a lie.

They are the pieces of my life that cover up what really happened to me. My excuses for why I went missing at fourteen and how I ended up in a California hospital with a gunshot wound. I can never tell Dina or Dahlia, or my boyfriend, Eric, what really happened: that I was taken to Mexico by my own poor-excuse-for-a-mother to live with a drug lord. I can never tell anyone that I escaped that place after nine years and that I killed the man who kept me a prisoner all my young adult life. I mean, sure I could tell someone, but if I did that it would only put Victor in jeopardy.

Victor.

No, Ill never be able to tell anyone that an assassin helped me escape, or that I watched Victor kill numerous people, including the wife of a prominent, high-profile businessman in Los Angeles. Ill never be able to tell anyone that after everything Ive been through, everything that Ive seen, I want nothing more than to pack my bags and go back to that dangerous life. The life with Victor.

To this day his name is calming on my tongue. Sometimes while Im lying awake at night, I whisper his name aloud just to hear it because I need it. I need him. I cant get him out of my head. Ive tried. Dammit I have tried. But no matter what I do I still live every day of my life thinking about him. If hes watching over me. If he thinks about me as much as I think about him. If hes still alive.

I clutch the pillow above my head and shut my eyes picturing Victor. Sometimes its the only way I can get off.

Eric squeezes my thighs in both hands, holding me still on the bed with his face buried between my legs.

I push my hips toward him, bucking gently against his lashing tongue until my whole body stiffens and my thighs tremble around his head.

Oh my God, I shudder as I come and then drop my arms between my legs, spearing my fingers through his dark hair. Jesus.

I feel Erics lips touch my belly just above my pelvic bone.

I look up at the ceiling, just like I always do after an orgasm because the guilt I bear inside makes me too ashamed to look at Eric. Hes a great guy. My sexy, dark-haired, blue-eyed boyfriend of twenty-seven who is kind and charming and funny and perfect. Perfect for me if I had never met Victor Faust.

Im ruined for life.

I wipe the tiny beads of sweat from my forehead and Eric crawls back up the bed and lays down next to me.

You always do that. He pokes me in the ribs playfully with his knuckles.

Very ticklish on my sides, I recoil and roll over facing him. I smile warmly and run a finger through the top of his hair.

What do I always do?

That moment of silence thing. He fits his thumb and index finger around my chin. I get you off and you get really quiet for a long time.

I know and Im sorry, but I have to erase Victors face from my mind before I can look you in the eyes. Im a horrible person.

Eric kisses my forehead.

Its called recuperation, I jest and kiss his fingers. Perfectly harmless. But you should take it as a good sign. You know what youre doing. I nudge him back in his ribs.

And truly he does know what hes doing. Eric is great in bed. But Im still too emotionally attachedaddictedto Victor and I have a feeling that Ill always be.

It took me five months after Victor left to try getting on with my life as far as other relationships go. I met Eric at my job at the convenience store. He bought a bag of chips and an energy drink. After that, he made trips to my store twice, sometimes three times a week. I wanted nothing to do with him. I wanted Victor. But I started losing hope that Victor would ever come back for me.

Eric goes to lay his arm across my bare stomach, but I get up casually just before and step into my panties. He doesnt suspect anything, which is good. I dont feel like cuddling, but the last thing I want to do is hurt his feelings. His arms raise up, his fingers interlocking behind his head. He looks across the room at me, grinning seductively. He always does that when Im not fully clothed.

Sarai?

Yeah? I slip my t-shirt on and readjust my ponytail.

I know its short notice, Eric says, but Id like to go along with you and Dahlia to California tomorrow.

Shit.

But I thought you couldnt get off work? I pull my shorts up and step into my flip-flops.

I couldnt back when you asked me if I wanted to go, he says. But we have some new help at work and my boss decided to give me the time off.

This is not good news. Not because I dont want him around meI do care for Eric despite my inability to forget about Victor Faustbut my vacation to California tomorrow wont be about sight-seeing, partying, and spending sprees on Rodeo Dr.

Im going there to kill a man. Or, Im going to try to kill a man.

Its bad enough that Dahlia will be there and that Ill have to keep this from just one person, much less two.

Youdont seem excited, Eric says, his smile slowly dropping from his face.

I smile big and shake my head, walking back over to him and sitting on the edge of the bed. No, no, I am excited. It just caught me off-guard. Were heading out at six in the morning. Thats less than eight hours from now. Are you packed?

Eric laughs lightly and reaches across my bed, pulling me back over next to him. I sit by his waist, propping one arm against the mattress on his other side, my legs hanging off the edge of the bed at the ankles.

Well, I just found out this afternoon before I left work, he says. I know, shitty timing, but all I have to do is throw a few things in a bag and Im good.

He reaches up and brushes stray hair from my ponytail away from my face.

Great! I lie with an equally false smile. Then I guess its settled.

Dina is up before me at four. The smell of bacon is what wakes me. I climb out of bed and hit the shower before planting myself at the kitchen table. An empty plate is already waiting for me.

I really wish you wouldve chosen someplace else to vacation, Sarai, Dina says.

She sits down on the opposite side of the table and starts filling her plate. I take a few pieces of bacon from the pile and place them onto mine.

I know, I say, but like I told you, Im not going to let my ex keep me from visiting my friends.

She shakes her ever-graying head and sighs.

I screwed up somewhere along the line with my plethora of lies. When Victor brought Dina to the hospital in Los Angeles after his brother, Niklas, shot me, she had no idea what had happened. Except that I had been shot. It took me a few months to feel confident enough to talk to her about it. After I figured out what story I wanted to tell her, anyway. Thats when I made up the abusive ex-boyfriend story. I shouldve just told her that I was robbed. By a total stranger. It wouldve made the lie so much easier to keep up with. Now that she knows Im going back to L.A. shes worried to death about it and has been for the past two months. I never shouldve told her that Im going back there.