Can't Let Her Go

Next to me, Katya is entranced by what is happening outside the window. I can’t tell if she’s truly happy or a bit sad. She’s leaving mother Russia, but she didn’t have all that great a life as far as I can see. Still, she had to leave her family and that must be hard for any young girl.

People lie all the time. In fact, it’s smart to just assume that everyone lies. That way, you won’t be so disappointed when you find out they’re lying. I lie. I know I lie, but I really meant what I told her. I won’t let Anakin or anyone else harm a hair on her head. And if need be, as I promised, I’ll take care of her parents. It’s against my way of thinking, but I’ll do it. I don’t break promises. That’s another reason she’s going to Detroit.

I promised Anakin.

Katya

Hunter wakes me just before we land in London. The sun has risen, and there are no clouds. I can see London as we approach the airport. It is massive. After all, it is one of the largest cities in the world.

Since our flight isn’t for another twenty-two hours, we are going to leave the airport. To do that we must clear immigration. The agent who processes us takes our passports from us. Hunter looks cool and unaffected, but I am shaking inside. Even my mouth feels dry with nervousness. What is the punishment for travelling under false papers?

He wants to know the purpose of our trip. Hunter explains that we are on a layover. He shows them our tickets. The agent glances at our tickets then stamps Hunter’s passport. He doesn’t stamp mine. Instead, his eyes slide over the bruise on my cheek before he looks at my photo in the passport. I wonder if he thinks I’m being kidnapped and forced into some sort of sex-trafficking ring. I can see an implacable quality in his eyes.

I grin widely at him. “I’m so madly excited because I’ve never been to London before.”

He doesn’t smile, but he stamps my passport and ushers us along.

Hunter looks down at me. “You can start breathing again,” he says, his eyes amused.

Outside the terminal, we get a taxi, and to my surprise, Hunter tells the driver to take us to Harrods. I’ve heard of the store, but of course, I’d never dreamed of going there.

“You can’t show up in Detroit dressed like a tramp,” he says. “And I could use a change of clothes too.”

It’s true, both of us look like tramps. How long has it been since I had a bath? Far too long. I’m sure I smell like a goat or worse. “Isn’t it very expensive there, though?”

“I think I can afford it,” he says easily. Then he pauses, a hard expression coming into his eyes. “Anakin is looking for a princess and I’m going to give him one. You can’t look too good if you’re going to fool him.”

I’ll never be a princess, but I can certainly look better than I do right now.

Harrods is more luxurious than anything I have ever seen. As we pass through the perfume section, a couple of beautifully dressed sales people actually raise their eyebrows and crinkle up their noses at us. Hunter doesn’t even spare them a second glance. He takes me upstairs to the women’s designer section where he finds a store assistant. She takes one look and smiles as if she has just won the lottery. I guess she must work on commission or something. Hunter tells her what he wants, and she promises to put it all together. A dress, a pair of jeans, some blouses, underwear, makeup and shoes. I suppose everything I will need to transform into a princess and a suitcase to put the stuff in. Hunter gives the clerk two hours to finish, and then he leaves.

“We’ll start with underwear,” she says. “Practical or sexy?”

“Sexy,” I say automatically. “Very sexy.”

She smiles. “I know exactly what you need.”

The next two hours pass far faster than I expect. The clerk, whose name is Samira, puts me through a number of changes. As I’m finding the perfect wardrobe, another clerk arrives to organize my makeup. She tells me I have excellent skin and I tell her she should see my sister’s skin. Then she instructs me on how to apply the makeup so my best features will shine. The way she gushes on about my features makes me feel embarrassed because she uses words like perfect, absolutely beautiful and stunning. Other sales clerks start to come in to watch.

In the end, she turns the mirror around and I have to believe her. I do look like a runway model. My cheekbones are ‘perfect’.

When I turn around, Hunter is standing there holding a large shopping bag. He looks different too. He hasn’t changed his clothes, but he has had a shave and his eyes are brighter. We stare at each other for what feels like forever. I know I love him with all my heart. We’ve been through so much I feel bonded to him. No matter what happens now, I will always, always love him. Then he smiles slowly. His smile is genuine. I hope he likes what he sees because I have changed into new jeans and top too.

I like the way I look and I think he does too.

He settles the bill and I’m sure he gives a generous tip because the clerks tell us to come back soon. It feels incredibly good to have someone wait on me. I can’t believe it’s happening to me, a simple village girl from the backwaters of Russia.

He leads me out to another cab that takes us and our bags to a hotel. The hotel lobby glitters with gold, mirrors, marble surfaces, and many lights. It looks like a palace to me. I can’t help but smile. I’ve never seen anything like it in real life. This is the stuff of magazine pictures.

We breeze through the lobby where a smiling young boy takes our bags and escorts us into the elevator like we’re the most important people he will see today.

Oh my, I think I could live here.

As the doors close I meet Hunter’s eyes in the mirrored doors and something secret passes between us. Like a current of electricity. No one else can see it or feel it. It’s just between us.

I know he doesn’t feel about me the way I feel about him, but he wants my body.

The boy asks him something, but he doesn’t answer, just stares at me. There’s a little ding and the doors slide open smoothly. The boy takes us down a corridor. The carpet is so soft and plush and it feels as if my new shoes are sinking into it.

The boy opens the door and I’m amazed by how beautiful the suite is.

Our room is a suite with fresh flowers, a lovely green and cream living room. There’s a basket of fruit and a bottle of champagne on the coffee table next to a sofa.

While Hunter talks to the boy I wander into the bedroom. It features a view of downtown London. I stare out the window and think myself very, very, very lucky. How did this happen? For that moment, I forget that I’m on my way to Anakin. I turn, and he is smiling.

“Take a bath or a shower,” he says. “Then get dressed for dinner. We’re going to have a great dinner.”

“We can have room service. I’ve always wanted to order room service like they do in Hollywood movies.”

“We’ll use room service for dessert. I want to experience London with you. You see, I’ve never done this either.”

“Then, we’ll do it together.” I move closer, wind my hands around his neck, and press my body to him. The only thing I have is my body to show him that I appreciate what he’s done, what he’s doing. Almost immediately, I feel him become rock hard. I feel that heat again. I remember what he did with his tongue. I lift up my head and looking into his eyes that are half-closed with lust, I kiss him. His lips are soft and delicious and I can feel myself melting. I want to tell him I love him, but he lifts his head, slaps my bottom and tells me to hurry. We only have a few hours.

I skip to the bathroom. I haven’t skipped since I was a child. I must be happy.

Hunter

Katya’s happiness both elates and hurts me. I love that she is excited, but I hate that it won’t last. I go to the window and look out. London is busy, very busy. If only there was a way for us to get lost here.

No.

He would find us. He would never stop until he found us and punished me for my betrayal. I’ll have to kill Anakin before he kills me. Because Anakin will kill me. He’s killed other

men for less. He doesn’t abide mistakes. I frown. Anakin sent me because his usual guy couldn’t make it. Nobody tells Anakin they can’t make it. If his usual fetcher wasn’t available, it’s because he’s dead. When I think about it I haven’t seen Anton for more than a year. As a matter of fact, the last I heard of him was when he was getting ready to go to Russia. I feel it in my gut that something happened last year, something with the virgin.

But what happened?

I need to find out. I have to find out what happened to the girl from last year. I hate myself for not listening more closely to Anton last year. I think a moment and wonder how I can find out. It will take a phone call and I can make the call, but not now. I’d rather not know yet. I want to have a good time with Katya tonight.

I want her to have the time of her life—maybe for the last time.

Katya

When Hunter steps out of the bedroom, I’m amazed.