Chapter 14

"Ready?" Jane asked me in a casual manner.

I nodded.

"Wait here for me. Do not go anyplace." I was asked before she left the room.

I could hear people's voices below and the pounding of automobile doors. The chaos below seemed to calm down when the door to Jane's room suddenly opened and a man with a rifle entered. I tried to climb the bed as I trembled, but he caught me by the arm and dragged me into the hallway. I kept quiet and refrained from yelling. I merely tried to wriggle free of his tight hold. We passed by the kitchen on the way downstairs. I spotted my husband with Jane. She was wrapping his bleeding arm in bandages.

"Jane!" He hissed out loud.

"Sorry!" She replied in a similar tone. "I'm not your doctor."

Ranold Hamilton made eye contact with me for a brief moment. Then he vanished behind the wall. I was being dragged by the man to the car packed with the whores from yesterday. On the black, windowless bus, I noticed both guys and girls seated.

"What's that?" I frantically questioned out of fear.

He pushed me inside the bus, saying, "You're going back to the whorehouse."

I immediately became aware that I was being transported on the bus with prostitutes. I visualized what it would be like to be completely exploited by other people, whether they were men or women, doing anything they wanted to me day and night. I gripped the man's hand when I suddenly felt scared.

With fear in my eyes, I proclaimed, "I'm Hamilton."

He pushed me away and retorted, "You all say the same," but I again grasped his hand.

"I'm Hamilton's husband," I said. I sobbed in despair.

I was abruptly hauled out of the bus and onto the street after the man glanced at my hand and noticed the ring. He sat down inside and shut the door. I was left alone in the deserted yard when the automobile drove off. I had no idea what to do next. I realized at once that Ranold Hamilton had just prevented me from being taken to one of the brothels and had so saved my life.

I immediately dropped on my knees, yelling loudly and intensely. I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks as I screamed so passionately. I hugged my own shoulders as I placed my forehead on the ground. When his warm hands began to lift me by my arms, I screamed once more. I instinctively struck him in the naked breast while weeping and sobbing and clung to him with my nails. I leaned on him and started to sob silently because I suddenly felt so frail, little, and helpless next to him. He had me in a tight hug. He was nearby. Like a good husband should. We were the only ones in the garden at that time. Only me and my husband, Ranold Hamilton.

***

I didn't have many clear memories of that day back then. After getting in the car, we lingered there for a while. He held me firmly to his chest and never let go. He was giving me a slow back pat while I was trembling a little from the lived feelings. I stopped sobbing. I could hear his heartbeat when I was lying on his chest. Inside the house, the cleaning was doing its job. We didn't move toward our destination until Jane arrived and assured us that everything was fine. I let out a sigh of relief and promptly dozed off without even noticing. I slept for over twelve hours.

We were in a little motel room someplace in North Dakota when I awoke. Even while I was sleeping, Ranold Hamilton would not let me go. We were sweaty, filthy, and odorous from yesterday. The next thing I remember is his hot body in a small motel restroom behind me. I turned to him slowly rather than taking a step back. He tenderly kissed my lips after cradling my face in his hands. I could feel the hot water on our lips. I could taste his saliva on the tip of my tongue. I gave him my whole attention before swiping my hand over his lips and caressing his prickly cheek.

He immediately gave me a long, passionate kiss. With a gasp, I responded to him. He kissed me again, and I gasped, placing my other hand on his neck. My third kiss came after he abruptly pushed me up against the wall. That kiss lasted quite a while. He lifted my thigh and pulled it close to his body with his warm palm on it. I suddenly found myself needing him with all of my body when I was cuddling with him. He picked me up off the ground by grabbing my hips. After a little sigh, I gasped and hugged his neck.

My lips started to hurt from the prolonged kissing. I was groaning in his hands with a low, deep voice as he caressed me with his fingers. He entered me quickly when we broke up the kiss. I shrieked, clutching his shoulders and leaning into his lips. I groaned into his mouth as he pushed in. Once more, he did it. And once more. And once more. He kissed my neck till I yanked away with a final groan. I sensed his hot, firm dick inside of me and yearned for more. I coveted him. Fucking God. My husband, Ranold Hamilton, was extremely stunning during sex.

We arrived in our charming, modest New Orleans apartment on Sunday evening. That I would be so content there is something I never imagined. It seemed like I was finally far away from everything that had happened, but not really. We ate noodles from the local cafe and went to bed together for the first time that evening. My back was once more turned toward Ranold Hamilton as we lay on opposite sides of the bed. He sighed and gave me a behind-the-back embrace. Since being married in July, it had been our first night of simply sharing a bed without actually having sex.

That made me happy. It was Monday the following day. And I went to university to study. My bed was empty when I awoke. In the restroom, I noticed my husband fastening his tie.

"Awake?" I was sitting on the bed trying to comprehend what had occurred over the weekend when he asked, walking by the bed and giving me a soft kiss on my lips.

He just took advantage of the opportunity to kiss me so casually because I appeared sleepy and confused. And all of a sudden, I was relieved.

"The driver will take you to the university. Don't be late," Before leaving the apartment, he remarked to me.

I sighed and leaned back on the bed, inhaling deeply. The sunrise over New Orleans in the early morning was breathtaking. I briefly closed my eyes as I turned to face the windows. I was the only person there. I n the apartment. I have nobody nearby. I widened my eyes and looked out at the metropolis. I was... pleased? I was in some way content despite the recent events. It wasn't the joy you experience when you get a gift you desired or a good grade. I wasn't sure how to describe it at the time because it was something bigger.

I sat down on the bed. I was dressed in a large T-shirt that I bought at the first clothing store close to the motel. To take a shower, I entered the bathroom. For the first time, it was quite hot and comfortable. It was something I really liked. Then I made some pancakes. The fact that I wanted to make pancakes astonished me. I, however, was terribly craving something sweet. There was also some milk and flour, and I even discovered a jar of jam in the cupboard. With sounds of pleasure and contentment, I was enjoying my meal. Every time I put the pancake into a jam or put it in my mouth, I was gasping and muttering under my breath. They were so damn good. My lessons began almost at noon, so it goes without saying that I was glad to have a lot of time. I exited the apartment at the appointed time and walked to the car while being followed by a guard. To my astonishment, it was just a regular gray automobile with no black windows. The fact that nobody would see me in that ominous black vehicle made me happy.

I went into the university after the chauffeur let me out at the entrance. There were many students on campus, and I suddenly had a pleasant feeling within. I was still alive. I was a university student. I was a 19-year-old college student going about my daily life. When we first spoke, Ethan described his weekends to me. He was at the beach with his parents, and they stayed in their itty-bitty cottage beside the water for a few days. When he turned the question over to me, I was listening to him and only forced a false smile. My mind flashed back to everything that had happened, from being under the influence of drugs to hugging Ranold Hamilton yesterday.

Ethan only received a single word from me, "Good," before switching to another topic.

***

The party started at 8 p.m. in one of the suburbs' private homes. I used to attend parties and I wasn't a saint. My closet has grown since we got back from North Dakota. There, along with some sneakers, I discovered leggings, a T-shirt, and other clothing. I was ecstatic to see Converse as well. Converse were actually my obsession, but they were always a touch pricey, so I could only find them at secondhand stores. Yet those were brand-new. In a box. Converse in high-white, just like I've always wanted. I wore them as well. Just in case, I brought a thin shirt with me.

Ethan and I met at a bus stop. He was dressed in shorts, sneakers, a top, and an unzipped shirt with rolled-up sleeves. He was wearing makeup. He gave me a friendly wave before picking up the phone to start a conversation.

He indicated the display by saying, "That guy. He plays tennis, as you may know. What do tennis players typically have, by the way?"

"What?" I gave a sneaky smile as if I knew what he would say next.

He said, "A large dick," with a winning grin, and we both chuckled.

We were pumped up for the party. Ethan was drinking Red Bull or Monster or something like. I complied with his suggestion that I sip a little. I had so much energy and was finally prepared to let go of the past. We reached the large home. Although it was smaller than Hamilton's homes, it was still large enough for a party. There was music playing outside.

"Oh, it looks like the most intriguing part has already started!" Ethan sang. "Are you prepared to start a life-changing journey?"

I grinned as we entered. There were many people there, each holding a different plastic cup. We passed past the crowds and arrived at the garden with the pool. There were loads of people there, and the water was glistening in the sun's final rays. It smelt great as the boys cooked the barbecued pork.

"Wow! What is that?" Ethan inquired and approached the lads, who were observing the barbecue.

"Hey, Ethan! Hello!" One of them responded by hugging my friend. "Is that the same friend you were mentioning?"

"Yes, Brian. That's Olivier," Brian gave my friend a shoulder hug after Ethan grabbed him around the waist.

"Hello, Olivier!" I took Brian's hand when he offered it to me. "Ethan told me a lot about you. Are you currently single? What about it?"

Brian offered me a plastic cup, and I was hesitant to respond.

"Let's put our possessions at home aside. This is a motherfucking party because we are now young and free!" The boys shouted at Brian while clapping their hands, and he yelled back at them. It was time to have some fun. "Blue ones indicate that you are unrestricted and willing to take attention. The presence of a red one indicates that you should pay attention to another person."

"There is a "no-couple" restriction today, is that right?" I asked with a sneaky smile.

"Ethan, he got it!" Brian giggled.

"He's good, I told you, yeah."

Anyone was free for the evening under the "no-couple" policy. Red cups didn't indicate being taken or anything else. All they indicated was that you had a companion. The purpose of a "no-couple" party is typically to encourage free communication amongst participants and to enable them to chat to someone with whom they might otherwise feel uncomfortable. Everyone had to abide by the same rule: just flirting, no arguing, no sex, or any other negative emotions. In other words, if you were in a relationship, that party was a great opportunity to let go of all your obligations and enjoy a little freedom.