A week after the Masquerade ball, Gigi agreed to see me so long as she could stay at her place. I wasn’t having it for the long run, but realized things were tenuous between us and didn’t want to scare her off. I picked her up and drove her to work each morning, she taught Littles how to skate all day long next door to her best friend, Ivy’s arts and crafts studio. It felt safe, like I had her protected.
I should have known better than to stupidly, let my guard down.
My buddy, Rupert, was proud about the recent addition to The Petting Zoo, where his wife, Ivy, cared for Littles. He hired a construction crew to attach to it the art studio of her dreams, where she could paint to her heart’s content. After several months, it was finally ready, and I said I’d stop by to take a look when I came by for Gigi.
I arrived at The Ranch to pick Gigi up and found strips of police caution tape blocking the main entrance to the club. Panic rioted within me.
Then I smelled it.
Smoke.
The police officer in charge backed away, as I shooed him aside, flashing my security badge, the muscles of my forearm hardened beneath the sleeve. I smashed the glass door below the reception desk, and yanked the fire extinguisher free of its braces, crushing its handle in my fist.
This couldn’t be happening. Not twice in one lifetime, it would be far too cruel even for a vengeful God. The smell of burnt rubber, oil, and other chemical fluids was in the air, and I followed its combustible perfume, recognizing it as distinctly as I did my own face in the mirror.
Terror gripped me and I was a volcano on the verge of erupting, giving into the tension that had been building all day without my little fox at my side. She was supposed to be in a safe place, out of harm’s way. Every day when I left her at work, trying my damnedest not to smother her, I told myself she’d be fine.
That I was overreacting.
But I knew what gasoline did to a fire. It made a raging inferno out of nothing.
Where once I was nothing, I now burned for her.
If anything happened to Gigi, I’d emerge smoke-blackened with my own inferno—the color of my hate. All the fires of hell wouldn’t be enough to protect people from my soul, turned evil by her death.
Running down the hall of the club, I noted the odor was more faint than outside, and heard the sound of foam extinguishers putting out any remnants of the burn.
One of the security staff gathered outside the door of the petting zoo handed me a mask, which I refused.
Where the fuck is she?
“Gigi!” I blasted, unconcerned by the fearful Littles lined up in the hall, wrapped up in blankets, cross legged, backs against the wall and drinking from sippy cups. With a cursory glance I determined them all to be in good health.
Soon, the fear returned and my nerves were rubbed raw.
Ivy stepped through the door of the roller rink, checking again on the Littles in her charge for the day. “Noah. She’s in here.”
It was a goddamned mystery to me how everyone could appear calm when I felt impaled by fear.
Ivy stepped aside, and I entered the room, the cold knot of knowing clenching my heart tighter than a fist. My mind was working over time again, and a sheer, black fright swept through me.
I should have never let her out of my sight.
Gigi sat on a bench, an EMT applying antiseptic and an ACE bandage to her elbow joint. I regarded the scene with suspicious eyes.
Get your fucking hands off of her.
The sound of a dispatcher over the radio, alerting the crew to other emergency calls, hit me right in the gut. At that moment, my little fox skated up to me, splatting her body against my chest.
Through the windows that faced the play yard shared by skaters and tiny artists alike, I could see the rescue mission dying down, and the fire fighters outside were opening the metal doors of the storage compartments on the truck, putting things away.
“What happened?” I accused.
I knew better than to be angry at her, but didn’t have anywhere to direct my fury.
Anger that something made me remember.
Outrage that Gigi could have been caught in a fire, alone, without me, and I would have been responsible for her death.
She was visibly taken aback, pulling away. The hurt on her face pained me, and she bit her lip to stifle the outcry.
Her eyes lit up with indignation, “The volunteer fire fighters said there was a pile of crumpled, oily rags, and other flammable stuff on the floor which spontaneously ignited. Luckily, they arrived quickly to extinguish the blaze and even salvaged Ivy’s major, in-progress painting. I’m sorry you were worried, daddy.”
I forced myself to settle down. This wasn’t her fault. I tried to reassure her somehow. “It’s a hazard of working with oil paints. A crumpled cotton rag soaked in linseed can burst into flames.” Ivy should stick to watercolors from now on. Or be more careful when cleaning up. I’d alert Rupert. After mom’s death, I grew obsessed with death statistics, and the causes of spontaneous fires.
I forced myself to approach the studio, relieved to find it standing completely intact, it’s interior walls blackened by smoke but not charred by flames.
It pained me to think about what might have happened to my princess.
The fire chief approached, reassuring me. “Gigi was on it so fast, there wasn’t a chance for the flames to do any real damage before we got here. What you see is totally superficial.”
I spun at her. “What does he mean you were on it? Did you go near the fire?”
I prided myself on taking control, refusing to act impulsively, and yet with Gigi in my world, things became harder to handle.
Namely, my temper.
I snatched her hand in mine, and pulled her towards the door.
“What are you doing!?”
“Taking you home where I can keep you safe!” I said forcefully. I was tired of talking. Tired of being patient. Fed up with not sleeping and obsessing over what happened with my mom, trying to figure out my mistake. No way was I letting anything like what happened to her happen to my little fox.
She was no ordinary prisoner, because she was mine. I never sent my soldiers into battle unprepared or undefended. I didn’t need to picture the way her outrage would nearly choke her when she discovered she may as well be under lock and key living in our home, but my mind was made up.
Her curt voice, lashed at me, “Noah! I’m fine.” I kept marching her towards the door, and she must have realized there was no convincing me otherwise. She whispered, “Daddy?”
The sounds of giggling Littles from the hallway, battered my ears, making me come to a dead stop. “I failed to shield you from danger, Gigi,” I agonized, not knowing what else to say.
Her fingers wrapped around the fabric of my shirt, pulling me to her. “But I’m okay. No one was hurt. I know it’s hard to believe this minute, but it was a small fire.”
Girding myself with resolve against the tantrum that was on the horizon I explained. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not taking any more chances with your safety. From now on, you’re staying with me twenty-four-seven.” I swept her up like a bride, and carried her to the car, roller skates kicking.
Right on cue, she resisted with every means in her power and burst out, “You can't bubble wrap me to protect me from harm, Noah. That's not how love works!”
She stopped me in my tracks. I swung one of her legs around my waist so she faced me, and pressed her back up against the wall. “Is that what this is to you? Love?” Her body stiffened in shock. Fuck it. I’m done pretending. Hiding the way I really feel. Her wide-eyed innocence was merely a smoke screen.
Gigi pretended not to understand my words, so I spelled it out for her.
“Because that’s what this is for me, little fox. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you which is why you’re my responsibility, and that’s not a job I take lightly. It’s a fucking full-time profession.” As soon as I let my guard down, she put herself in peril.
She swallowed tightly, and I dropped my face down to hers. Softly, her breath fanned me, and beneath the ravishment of my mouth, she gave a breathy little moan. My kisses were cruel, devouring her will to resist, serving as a vehicle for the anger over being helpless to defend her when I wasn’t there.
It was obvious to me she was uncomfortable with the fact that I’d spoken the truth, and her words confirmed it. “You can’t go from zero to ‘you’re mine’ in sixty seconds, Noah! You never gave me the time of day before kidnapping me, except for reminding me to eat vegetables.” Biting her lip, she looked away, pondering inconclusively. “And fixing the locks on my place.” She stirred uneasily in my arms, her voice shook slightly, “Giving me a ride to work every day.” She became increasingly uneasy under my scrutiny and awkwardly cleared her throat. “Oh God. You really do love me. You were just afraid to say so.” Suddenly anxious to escape from my disturbing presence she moved restlessly. “I need to go home. I have to get out of here.”
There was only one way to make this right. Gigi, would never be out of my sight again.