Jay's Pov
Everything felt like a dream. Those 2 years of guilt and remorse had felt like an eternity. It had felt like I was stranded in a desert with no water or sense of day or time. It felt as if I had found a river in the desert. The serene emotion of peace and calm rushed through my veins, and it made me numb and limp.
I held Amy like a desperate fool. If this were reality, then I wouldn't let her go. I had her tight in my arms. Her heartbeats drummed against mine. It felt like music. My nostrils took in her sweet scent, my nose rubbing on her skin as if it sought for more. My nose was running, and my tears smeared against her skin. I didn't care if she called me gross.
The night had been long; my pent-up energy had drained again. The sky was slowly being shunned away from the dark. I raised my face from her neck in silence. Her hair was shorter than before, with no traces of purple highlights, just black waves that adorned her head like a veil. Even though those purple highlights on the strands made her look bold, she was a woman who dominated the room with her gaze, demeanour, and aura. One harsh stare and the person was as good as dead.
But at the moment, her eyes looked soft, filled with longing; her face didn't have any expression, nor did she intend to talk, but her eyes were ones to speak. The next moment she decided to rise from my lap, and I could feel all the blood rushing back into my veins screaming at how many hours both of us didn't change our position, not even once. And it started to ache somewhat dull but seemingly increased over time.
Amy stumbled on her feet, struggling to stand; the reason was clear: the sole culprit was me. I didn't let her move all this time. Once she was stable enough to stand straight, she gave her hand to me, helping me stand. The feeling of my energy draining was instant; the stitches below my ribs were starting to hurt, and the gauze was glazing red. I was just too worked up before to even feel a thing, but right now my nerves were alarming me with pain and a nerve-wracking ache. I groaned while trying to stand on Amy's support; it felt as if my limbs were going to fall off, or was it me overreacting to the healing mechanism in my body? I was far too amateur to deal with this kind of pain. I had performed and watched countless surgeries that I almost forgot the aftermath of the patient's treatment, and the process of recovery hurt like a bitch.
It was quite embarrassing to let Amy pick me like a toddler. Her cold hands gripped my bare torso and shoulder while she pulled me up, trying not to worsen my injury. Her hands were so cold that someone might mistake her for dead. I remembered the sweet memory of wrapping her hands with mine while we slept through the night in the past. The comfort and peace that my heart festered with warmth. My current physical condition had me clinging to reality. My legs hurt even worse. Amy held me in her arms, ensuring I could find my balance, which was next to impossible. I was a nuisance for sure.
And my eyes caught something unexpected. It took me off guard, and I could feel my face and ears burning red. And Amy seemed to notice it too. By the word of God, I was back on my feet, or was it my shyness squeaking me to work my limbs?
I was so emotionally immersed in having Amy back that I didn't notice that her white shirt had become see-through because of the pouring rain, and now that piece of fabric was sticking to her body like a second skin. Her ink-filled arms and the lining of her innerwear near the chest were quite visible.
This is bad! Too bad!
Ignore it! Ignore it! I kept chanting in my head, trying to pull the delicate thread that held my sanity dangling off the cliff while my brain lurked with sinful thoughts. No..no nooo!
I tried to push those inappropriate thoughts away while my eyes betrayed me; jeez, the structure of her body was way too... Luring, seductive, for sure. It was as if God himself took his sweet time to create her. My eyes peered at her collarbones, droplets of water dripped from her short hair and slid against her neck to the collarbone seeping into the already wet shirt every time she exhaled, and some wet strands of her hair beautifully stuck to her forehead.
My fingers itched to trace her skin, push those strands away from her forehead, and trace her scars like I had done in the past out of curiosity, but this time it was out of desire. God knows where this was coming from, but I wanted to taste those lips of hers. Her lips were quite different from the ones that were called the standard in the beauty industry. She didn't have those plump, full lips, but they were slim and in a perfect shape that suited her sharp facial features. Unknowingly, she licked her lower lip, trying to hydrate it, and God kill me. I was just milliseconds from grabbing her waist and landing my lips on hers. I wanted to devour her. Taste her.
There was a burning desire to claim her as mine. But I had to hold back. What had happened in these 2 years? Did she move on? Was she planning to reach me? Was she being held captive, and by coincidence, I happened to meet her once again by pure fate? If destiny had played my life this nice, then I was forever grateful for that. It was my destiny to run into Amy. I would get Amy freed from whatever hellhole she was stuck in, and then everything would fall back into place. But I had too many questions that needed to be answered.
Whatever! Ignoring the pain, I somehow regained my balance.
Amy: What's wrong?
She looked bewildered, her eyes questioning.
I coughed, trying to push away the growing embarrassment. I didn't reply; instead, I stalked back to the room, grabbing a towel from the bathroom. Though my pulsing wound was irked with an urgency to pull away the wet dressing tied around it, my mind was hazy with a desire that needed to be shunned immediately. When did my mind turn this dirty?
The last time I remembered the human body didn't please me. I had female patients under my ward too, but none of them had any effect on my brain except Amy. Before, it was just an emotional intimacy I had shared with her; I had seen her vulnerable. I had seen her half naked before when I treated her wounds earlier, but never had I thought anything perverse. There was always an innocence to it and right now I couldn't find my damn innocence anywhere as if it never existed.
I groan internally, practically limping; once I reach back to the balcony, I push the towel to Amy while she looks at me with bewilderment.
Jay: You'll catch a cold.
I muster up an excuse. Second-hand embarrassment was gladly saved.
Amy: I don't really think that is the reason to get you all flustered.
She smirked. She's a menace for sure who knew how and when to strike my nerve strings like a damn guitar.
I look away, my cheeks on fire.
Amy: I didn't think that 2 years would get rid of your innocence and that firm, skinny body. You look quite hot with those muscles and abs, for sure. And you are learning martial arts if I look at the stunt you pulled back there at the event.
She continued with a low tone of amusement. At the mention of the event, my eyes struck back at her figure, who had now shamelessly drawn away the towel, rubbing it on her head. She was doing this on purpose.
However, my attention was more focused on the revelation about the event.
Jay: You were at the event?
Amy: Oh, and I took you quite by surprise with my gun. But you have gotten tough over the years. I must say. I'm impressed.
She playfully babbled while her words rang a bell.
Jay: Maria.
I stood rooted to the spot.
Jay: It was you all this time.
I uttered.
Amy: Yeah, if you wouldn't have introduced yourself back there, I was going to dispose of you.
Her voice came low with uncertainty in between.
It was a hard time processing things. She became a spy or maybe got back into business in the underworld. Was she forced again? My heart felt burdened at the thought. I was going to get Amy free from whatever trouble she was in.
While the tension was thick in the air, it was soon cut through by a person coming towards us. It was Drake. My instincts were faster than my words, and the sense of possessiveness felt overwhelming. I stood in front of Amy while my tall figure successfully blocked her body's view. I held my ground, finding Drake's sight bitter to my tongue.
His face was void of any emotions, his eyes were sharp and lingering, and he was certainly trained to keep that resting bitch face like Amy. Stalking forward, he stopped a few steps away from me. His eyes blazing with fire while I shot him a death glare for the same. The tension was thick in the air. Amy scoffed, breaking away from the awkwardness.
Amy: What is it?
She spoke behind me, addressing Drake; her voice wasn't sweet and playful like it was before. A smirk almost made its way to my lips, but I had held my gaze stern. She was soft only for me.
Drake: I see it now.
He muttered lowly, his eyes hovering at me.
Drake: You already knew who this idiot was, didn't you? And he looks like something more than a friend. I must say you have a loyal dog. That’s why you chose to bring him here.
His tone held sheer mockery, with the pinch of amusement hiding his intentions.
I held my ground strong, not wanting a single flick of emotion to reach my face to avoid ensuring his little victory. I was about to speak, but Amy had already taken the matter into her hands.
She shifted behind me, walked forward, and passed by me. All this time, I had been possessive, not wanting some random man to stare at what was mine. But Amy had proved me wrong.
She walked ahead of me, her biceps flexing under the white transparent fabric while she pushed her wet hair back, suddenly spotting an ink pen from before between her fingers. She flicked the pen between her fingers, making it look never-ending. It was a popular trick that was hard to conquer but utterly fascinating to watch, but it wasn't something that had my attention.
It was in the air; Amy's aura had changed. She was dark and intimidating. Every time her persona switched, the vibes always felt off, unsettling, and unpleasant. I could see Drake's strong facade faltering, his eyes twitching to hold his gaze longer and his chin up high. But Amy's tall frame had towered him and cowered his so-called shitty ego and confidence.
I almost forgot Amy had existed in the underworld even before I married her; she knew how to intrude into one's vicinity and terrify their existence to the core. The see-through shirt didn't bring any shame or embarrassment to her; she was confident of her skin. She had the power to stand tall in the worst of situations. She could bring such men to shame.
Amy: I see. You got a long tongue to spew shit from; how about I decorate it for a mass display in the museum?
Her tone was husky, yet it was an underlying threat that she didn't mean to hide. The pen between her fingers suddenly rose to his face and glided across his neck, making the ink splatter, and drawing a blue line that formed a slit on his throat.
Amy: Or maybe I could enjoy it by myself, slit your throat and watch you being mute, watch you struggling your vocal cords to death. I can wipe your existence in a blink even before you go and weep to your superior about it. I won’t give a shit about it.
She spoke as a matter of fact; her crude words perfectly hid her rage. Her intentions spoke otherwise. She was still as dangerous as ever. There was a hidden tension between the two, even though they coordinated like a team back at the event; their gazes flickered with irritation and annoyance, and both of them couldn't stand each other.
Drake: I guess you guys need to get your clothes changed.
Drake spoke with uncertainty, his eyes lowering, staring into nothing as he turned on his heels and walked away with piercing embarrassment that oozed from him.
The morning had turned to afternoon; I had freshened up, my wound being dressed with that annoying gauze again by Mrs. Jennie. She had somehow disappeared, and I almost forgot about her existence in the first place. She had been with me after Amy's death, preparing me meals and staying somewhere in the room, letting me loom in sadness in all silence until one day I asked her to go away. I was bewildered by her presence. She knew Amy was alive all this time?
Mrs. Jennie: Master Jay, please do not give me that look.
She still had that motherly warmth in her voice.
Jay: You knew Amy was alive all these 2 years, didn’t you? All this time I was betrayed.
I accused.
Mrs.Jennie: It was Miss Maria's order. I couldn't defy that.
She spoke softly.
Jay: Miss Maria?
I ask. She kept her gaze on my wound, clipping the gauze with the drapes.
Mrs. Jennie: It's her new identity; she's no longer your wife. Master.
Her words pierced my heart. But she was speaking facts; Amy was officially dead for the world. Which means she's no longer my wife.
Jay: Please don't call me master. Are you into medical? How long have you been with Amy? Why did she not come back to me? She promised me.
I wanted answers. Why did she wait for 2 years to meet me? This question ate me even more with each passing second. There must be a strong reason, and I was going to find it soon. Amy had disappeared somewhere after our first encounter last night. I decided not to reach conclusions without understanding Amy's perspective. I was desperate to find answers or any clue that justified Amy's actions.
Mrs. Jennie: I am a certified physician but don't work at hospitals. I have been with Amy for the past seven years and have treated her clan members ever since there was a constant need for treatment when it came to arson and gang fights. For the third question, it would be better if Ms. Maria answered that for you.
With that, Mrs. Jennie silently left the room, informing me that she would help out to get down for lunch. I was now alone by myself.
Even though I had been sluggish and seriously out of energy, I still limped enough to explore the room around me. My stitches hurt, but it was okay to be in a little pain rather than be too bored in one place. I reached the balcony once again, my face being hit by a strong gush of wind. My bangs hurled back as the wind played with my hair. Surprisingly, Amy had ordered my glasses too. So it wasn't a task to figure out the far-away blurry view.
I leaned against the fence; my mind boggled with the serene view in front of my eyes. I was in an estate in the middle of nowhere; the sea surrounded the island. It was just sand and blue everywhere. I continued to enjoy the breeze for god knows how long. I felt free and at ease; my heart felt complete. The distance between the sky and the sea almost seemed invisible. There was no road, no cars, and no parking lots. But boats and choppers with a different colour flew every 10 minutes.
One of the helicopters had flown right above the mansion, and contemplating the height being too low from the ground, it was about to land. I was glad that I didn't resort to jumping from the balcony to escape last night. It's too high. And maybe it was because of the rain that I didn't hear the sea waves last night. One thing was clear: if I were to escape, I could not leave without a map or anyone escorting me to the mainland.
I limped my way back to the room and spotted Mrs. Jennie again, who had a small smile on her face.
Mrs. Jennie: It's time for lunch.
Jay: I want to see Amy first.
I wanted answers. It was testing my patience.
She gently held my arm on her shoulder, supporting me to walk. Taking steps felt like a heinous task at hand. We walked out of the room, passing through the circular corridor; after a few steps, we stood in front of an elevator.
An elevator?
I knew the building was tall and grand enough, but I didn't expect an elevator. The owner must be too lazy to walk, but I was rather thankful for a lift. Otherwise, I would be dragging myself or tumbling down the stairs to reach quickly and break my bones. Soon we walked in as the passage dinged. And within seconds we had reached the base. My eyes scanned the surroundings, and was I hallucinating?
A car? The 1954 Ferrari-Vignale Cabriolet dangled vertically upside down from the ceiling as if it were a chandelier for the showpiece. I knew people worldwide had car collections, many of which were displayed in museums, but never thought that a car would replace some grand giant chandelier and no doubt that someday it would fall and crush people standing beneath unless they maintained and wielded the ties regularly.
But I couldn't deny that the place screamed show off. It was a luxury, and loads of money was being thrown into designing such an architectural piece. My mind had been too free and vacant to make up scenarios. My eyes fell on that one figure sitting far on the couch; I knew it was Amy. She was in her signature black formals, which only meant her arrival from the helicopter before. Anyone would mistake her for a man with that short hair. God help me, no one could resist her charm as a man either. She looked ethereal.
The nearer we stepped, my vision had turned clear. She was sipping on her drink. Relaxing her shoulders, her eyes closed. Until our steps had caught her attention. She craned her neck, her eyes fluttered open at my arrival. Her blank face from before had a small smile etched across her face. Her brown eyes never left mine. She kept looking at me until I had myself carefully seated across her on the nearby couch.
Amy: How's your injury?
She squeaked, not sure if it was out of awkwardness or just the lingering tension between us.
Jay: Just in bad shape, it'll heal.
I mustered, but I couldn't understand the emotions that her eyes held. Was it guilt?
Amy: You didn't go for lunch? You need to eat and rest.
She changed the topic. I couldn't help but notice the change in her accent.
Jay: It can be done later. I wanted to talk to you.
I speak, and this time my words are more sure and confident. This time I stared straight in the eyes, but my gaze wandered to her face.
Her ebony black hair served as curtains to her forehead bangs, almost hiding one of her eyes, both of her eyebrows, and half of her ears; her hair length reached her collar, styled in a manner suited well for guys. She had a speciality that she could nail and adopt any given look to her style. Her silver earring dangled and shined across her shoulder whenever she slightly moved. One thing unique about it was the number 666, which dangled vertically along the long chains hooked to the earring.
It was the devil's number. Well, she wasn't less than a spawn of Satan. In contrast, her left wrist dangled with a holy cross necklace I had gifted her. It somehow reflected her morale and conflicted perceptions that always screwed her head.
The silence had turned longer until Amy deliberately cleared her throat, wanting me to speak.
Jay: Uhh.. I wanted to know what happened after I passed out there...in the event.
I almost forgot my purpose.
Amy: The girls are safe; we rescued them. And those 2 friends of yours are here too; you might meet them at lunch.
She was talking about Laura and Fredrick.
Amy: And I would need your help and assistance to raise those girls in the orphanage in the meantime. The team is still trying to get in contact with their parents. Some of them were sold, while others were kidnapped. They had been starved and tortured for months until we found them. It's 50 of them, and we are still searching for the rest of them.
She continues.
Jay: I will help you in any way I can.
I say in an instant.
The conversation was awkward, and that one question had been bubbling up my throat. There was a minute of silence with Amy sipping her coffee, gazing away at the glass windows that gave a view of the sea. I gulp. My ingrown sentiments were busting out to turn an emotion. My fingers fidget with rising nervousness. A devious urge to pour emotions that bugged me all these years, but at the same time I was afraid that my words would hurt. The worst of memories flashed against my eyes. I stare at my lap, blankly staring at my fingers that fidgeted with internal conflict.
Jay: “For 2 years I was a mess; after you went away... I missed you... Like crazy.” I start with a low whisper, bringing her eyes back to me.
“I don’t know what to say... But you were still there... alive, and you didn’t come back to meet me, nor did you give me any hope of your existence.” My eyes burned, glossy with tears, my miserable self overpowering my senses.
“I want to know how you spent your years..free from me.” The words stung; it tasted bitter on my tongue. Her low-key casual behaviour had enraged me with the question if she ever cared about my existence in her life, ever? She didn’t meet my eyes. Her gaze went over everything but me.
“You promised me, didn’t you? You’ll come back to me. Why did it take you so long? Why was it that after 2 years you met me, that to some damned random event than our very own house? where I waited for you.” I chuckled in mockery and desperately tried to blink away the burning tears. My voice came hoarse, pushing away the falling weight of emotions that I dreaded for it to show out. My mind was desperate to gauge any reaction from her; my blue eyes were finally bored down to her brown ones. She looked pale at my confession.
Her lips parted to speak...until a sudden commotion erupted from the grand doors.
