Chapter Four

THE GARAGE DOOR opened as Julia unloaded her equipment from her truck. She moved her wheelbarrow over as far as she could to the edge of the driveway and stepped off the blacktop. A four-door Lexus pulled out of the garage. Lian was at the wheel, dark glasses covering her eyes. Gerald lifted his hand and waved to Julia as they passed. After they had gone, Julia rolled her tools to the rear of the house and around to the terrace.

She took her maul and chisel from the cart and set about removing the damaged stones. Working carefully, she set aside the stones she would be able to use to repair the wall when she rebuilt it. The rhythm of working with the maul and chisel swept away the running dialogue in her head. Her head throbbed. Eyes gritty, she paused to rest her head on her knee. Reading about Nüwa’s experiences had led to a night of horrid dreams. It was one thing to read of a horrific experience, and quite another to know someone who had been the victim. A sharp breeze set the collection of wind chimes hanging under the eaves in motion.

Julia glanced at the horizon. In the west, a dark line of clouds roiled the sky. A quick view of the dark-green and red bands on the radar display on her weather app confirmed her day would soon be cut short by heavy rain. Swearing quietly to herself over the time she would lose, she gathered her tools and tucked them into the wheelbarrow. The scrape of metal on metal made her look up.

Nüwa stood in the sliding doorway of the house. Her face twisted into a scowl. “What are you doing here?” She gestured to the sky and the smoky gray clouds scuttling closer. “You should be inside.”

Stung by Nüwa’s imperious tone, Julia flushed. “Just getting ready to do that.” She balanced her long level on top of the other tools in the wheelbarrow. Nüwa crossed her arms over her chest and continued to stare at Julia, as if she were trash blown into the yard.

Julia blinked. Gerald and Lian had passed her an hour ago. Had they returned? Would Nüwa be alone during this storm? Memories of their first meeting bubbled up. “Hey, are your folks here? I um, I wanted to ask Gerald something.”

“No.” Nüwa raised her chin and took a step backward to the house. “Go, now.”

“Wait.” Julia trotted up the five steps to the house.

Nüwa stepped back again, her mouth set in a thin line, her knuckles white where she gripped her arms. “What?” Her eyes skittered away from Julia’s toward the sky. “Be quick.”

“Do you want me to stay with you?” As soon as the words exited her mouth, Julia wished them back.

“What did you say?” Nüwa stepped closer, her hands now on her hips. “How dare you?”

The stark differences in their height forced Julia to look up to maintain eye contact. “I just… I know your folks aren’t home. And I…”

“I. Am. Not. A. Child.” Nüwa spoke over her as she pinned Julia in place with her eyes. “Don’t presume you know me. I don’t need your pity or”—her lip curled back in a sneer—“protection. Go away. Now.” Nüwa turned on her heel, strode into the house, and pulled the door closed after her.

Julia stared after her, waiting until she heard the thunk of the security bar locking into place. The first drop of rain hit like a bullet splattering on the stone terrace. The second landed squarely on the back of Julia’s neck. She ducked her head as within seconds the rain fell in sheets so hard and heavy, she couldn’t see across the yard. The cold rain soaked her to the skin as she rolled the wheelbarrow back to her truck. Puddles had formed and the wet grass slowed her progress. After loading her equipment, she slid behind the driver’s seat. She shivered as she dug around in her truck for anything to dry herself. After locating a few unused fast-food napkins in the center console, she wiped her face. Julia cursed as she started the truck and moved the heat control to high.

Rain hammered the truck roof, matching the hammering of her heart. She sat there waiting for a lull in the storm, trying to sort how a simple question had sent everything spinning sideways with Nüwa. Her phone vibrated and she dug it out of her pocket.

“We’re knocking off for today, it’s raining like hell here. Want to meet at Murphy’s?” Nico’s rich baritone soothed Julia’s soul.

Julia shivered in her wet clothes, glanced at the truck clock and at the rivulets of rain running down the windshield. “It’d take me an hour to get there.”

“Is that a yes, or no?”

The garage doors opened in front of her. Julia flicked the wipers on. Nüwa stood in the center opening. In the flashes of clear windshield Julia watched as Nüwa waved, gesturing to the open garage bay next to her, indicating she should pull the truck inside the garage. “That’s a no. Catch you another time.”

Julia disconnected the call, moved the gear shift to drive, and eased the truck into the open bay. The garage door shut behind her, enclosing her in the dim space. Nüwa stood on the steps leading to the house. Julia turned the engine off and opened her door. She stepped out of the truck.

“Come inside.” Nüwa inclined her head toward the open door. “Please.” She turned away, then turned back. “Unless… Unless your offer is rescinded?”

Julia squared her shoulders. “Offer’s still good.”

Nüwa lifted her chin in acknowledgement, a cramped smile twisting her face.

Julia crossed to the door, sat down on the bottom step, and unlaced her boots, grateful she had decent socks on for once. After placing her boots next to the stairs, Julia followed Nüwa into the house.

 

“CAN I OFFER you something? Water? Coffee? Tea? Pop?” Nüwa led Julia through the hallway into the kitchen.

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

Julia’s tentative tone drove a spike of regret through Nüwa.

She turned to Julia as they entered the kitchen. “I am sorry about before.” Nüwa lifted her chin and held Julia’s wary gaze. “Please accept my apology. I should not have spoken to you so rudely.” She studied Julia’s reaction. She saw it then, the expression folks had when they realized who she was, what had happened to her, the awkward, pitying, fearful expression of knowledge.

Julia shifted back and forth on her feet and dropped her gaze. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not. And I suspect based on your reaction, it will never be. It never is. Did my father tell you? Or did you do you own research?”

“What?” Julia moved to the far side of the kitchen, closer to the exit.

“You know who I am. What happened, or at least whatever my mother hasn’t been able to have scrubbed from the internet. I can see it in your eyes. Feel it in the way you act toward me. You have any questions? Or are you satisfied with your research?” Nüwa shoved her hands into her front pockets.

Julia rested her hands on her hips. “Don’t do that. Yeah, I looked you up. And it’s your business. Excuse me if I’m being awkward, I didn’t mean to piss you off.” She scrubbed a hand over her face. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Why did you offer to stay with me?” Nüwa focused her gaze on Julia’s face.

Julia fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. “I don’t know. It was an impulse. I saw Gerald and your mom leaving. I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“I’ve spent years alone. In the presence of others, and by myself. Being alone isn’t hard. Being with people is hard.” Nüwa turned away as she filled the kettle with water. She placed it on its base and flipped the switch to start it heating. She kept her back to Julia as she set up the French press. She opened the cabinet and sorted through the containers until she found her favorite coffee blend. When she opened the tin, the scent of the rich Robusta coffee filled the room. “Sorry if I interrupted your plans, I only wanted to apologize for my behavior. Now I have, I won’t keep you if you have somewhere to go.”

“Not really.” Julia’s voice was closer.

Nüwa glanced over her shoulder. Julia stood with one hand resting on the back of one of the high-backed chairs at the kitchen bar. She plucked a kitchen towel from its hook and dried her hands before she turned to Julia. She removed a clean one from the drawer and passed it to Julia. “Sit. Take this. Are you sure you don’t want anything? Coffee, tea, dry clothes?”

Julia took the towel and dried her face and neck, before blotting her hair. “That coffee smells wonderful.”

Nüwa measured the coffee grounds into the press. The pot clicked off, signaling it had boiled. She poured the boiling water over the grounds before she settled the top on the press, then took two cups from the cupboard above the kettle.

The sensation of being watched made the hair at the back of her neck prickle. The only sound in the kitchen was the hum of the electric clock. Nüwa turned back to Julia. “You don’t have to walk on eggshells. Please stop staring at me. I’m not going to shatter into a million pieces, nor freak out, or dissolve into tears.”

“I’m sorry.” Julia leaned back in her chair. “I don’t know what to say.”

Nüwa tilted her head. “What was your plan when you asked me if I wanted you to stay with me? Sit and stare at me until my parents returned?”

Julia quirked her mouth. “Well, no. I was going to ask you if you wanted to play cards.”

“How do you take your coffee?”

“Like ice cream.”

Nüwa suppressed her shudder and raised an eyebrow. “Cream and sugar?” She poured the coffee and left room for Julia to add cream.

“Yes, please.”

Nüwa placed Julia’s coffee on the counter in front of her along with the sugar bowl. She opened the refrigerator. “One percent milk or non-dairy creamer?”

“The creamer, please. I hate the way the one percent turns the coffee gray.”

Nüwa set the creamer in front of Julia and waited while she poured enough into her cup to turn it white. Julia passed the creamer back to her and Nüwa replaced it in the refrigerator before she picked up her own cup of coffee. Rain thundered against the roof and splattered the kitchen window. Nüwa glanced out of the window. “It’s raining sideways.”

“Your folks won’t try to drive in this, will they?”

“No. And knowing my mother, she is dragging my father through every department in Neiman’s and making him carry her bags.”

“Your mom’s a shopper?”

“Hardcore.” Nüwa rounded the counter and sat on the tall stool next to Julia.

Julia rubbed her finger along the top of her cup. Nüwa’s gaze was drawn to her hands. She touched the smooth skin of the healed scar on the back of Julia’s hand with her fingertip. “That looks wicked.”

Julia flipped her palm over. “It was.” A small round scar in the center of her palm opposite the wound on the back of her hand made Nüwa shiver. “My baby brother found a twenty-two pistol my mother had left sitting on her bed in my parents’ bedroom while she showered. He was three and pointing it at everything. When I went to take it from him it went off. Bullet went through my hand.” Julia flexed her hand. “Children’s Hospital in Akron is amazing. I pretty much have full use, but the skin is numb. I’ve burned myself so many times taking stuff out of the stove.”

Nüwa tilted her head. “Was it hard?”

“Getting shot?” Julia lifted her eyebrow. “I don’t recommend it.”

“Telling me what happened. Talking about it.” Nüwa blew across the steaming brew before she took a sip of her coffee. She replaced her cup and turned on her stool to face Julia. Her knees pressed against the damp denim covering her thigh.

“No. It happened. And just about everyone who meets me asks about it sooner than later.”

“Right?” Nüwa tapped the countertop. “It’s useless to try to avoid it. People are curious as hell. Unable to control our impulse to know the details, more so if the crime is sordid. If you don’t tell them, they make things up about you.” Nüwa paused to take another sip from her coffee, savoring the rich notes and the comfort of its predictability. She placed her cup on the counter. “So, please, if you have any questions about what happened to me, ask. I promise you you’ll be less intrusive than Martin’s defense attorney during my testimony.”

Julia picked up her cup of coffee. “I don’t want to pry or be a nosy parker.”

Nüwa laughed out loud. “I haven’t heard anyone say that since grade school.” She rested her fingertips on Julia’s forearm. “I’m okay really. Inside the house, I’m fine.”

Julia frowned. “You were really freaked during the tornado.”

“The night it happened was very stormy. Incredible thunder and lightning. Rain alone is fine. But storms take me right back there. It remains my worst trigger. Other than blood.”

Julia rubbed her fingers over the back of her hand. “I still get freaky with blood. There was so much of it.”

Nüwa placed her hand on top of Julia’s, stilling its motion. She curled her fingers around her hand and squeezed gently. “And yet we are here. We survived. We’re strong.” She rubbed her thumb over the back of Julia’s hand.

Julia leaned her shoulder against Nüwa’s. “I read you testified. That your testimony is what put him away.”

Nüwa relaxed her grip on Julia’s hand and picked up her coffee. She took a long swallow before she answered. “He’s charming. Like Ted Bundy charming. And masterful at convincing people he’s harmless. His defense attorney tried to present us as lovers who had plotted to murder my manager because she was against our marriage. He convinced his attorney I got cold feet after the murder and turned on him. Their defense was that he was acting on my behalf.”

Julia’s brows drew down. “What the fuck? How could they even try that?”

“They did. And let me tell you, coming out in court is not something I ever want to do again.”

“You were closeted?”

“Very. Did your online searches turn up any photos or videos of me from when I was performing?”

“Not really.”

“I love heels and short skirts and sequins. The more daring the better. Jane, my manager, played it up, marketed me as Natalie Zhou, the sexiest pianist you would ever hear.” The ache in her heart, the one that always showed up when she talked about Jane, surfaced. Nüwa pulled her phone from her pocket and tapped a few buttons. She pulled up her favorite photo of the before time and turned it toward Julia. “This was what I wore when I played Vienna. It caused such an uproar, if it hadn’t been for the support of the musicians and the conductor, they would have canceled my performance. I loved that dress.”

“May I?” Julia held her hand out. “Why Natalie?”

“Jane’s idea. More palatable for western audiences.” Nüwa passed the phone to Julia.

Julia studied the photo. She whistled softly. “I bet they freaked out. That is some dress. Do you still have it?” She passed the phone back to Nüwa.

“No.” Nüwa clicked the phone off and placed it in her pocket. “It was taken as part of the evidence.”

The steady pounding of the rain on the roof filled the silence between them. The unasked question stood between them, large in the intimate space. “Ask me.”

“What?”

“Ask me. Ask me the one thing everyone wants to know. The one thing everyone imagines because of the convoluted way it was described in the news.”

“Did he—?” Julia whispered.

“No. He never touched me.” Nüwa pulled her hand free. “He believed himself to be chivalrous. He wanted to wait until after we were married. He had no issues forcing me to watch him while he pleasured himself and then smeared his tribute on the keys of my piano, but he never touched me.”

“What the fuck? That’s so twisted.”

“Very. He convinced his attorney we had plans to be secretly married.”

Julia shook her head. “Ridiculous anyone believed it.”

“It was incredibly clever. His DNA was everywhere but on me. And I was closeted. Any lovers I had signed nondisclosure agreements with expensive teeth. I had to convince the world he was lying and confess I had spent years lying to my fans, pretending to be someone I’m not, convince them I was not the wanton sexy, man-crazy maneater persona Jane had spent years creating.”

“Did they try to charge you?”

“There was talk. My mother hired some amazing attorneys and shut it down quickly. But public opinion is not so easily controlled.”

Julia shifted on her stool and turned so she faced Nüwa. “So, you quit performing?”

“After he was convicted, I played one concert. It was awful. I was awful. I had no focus, or drive. After he escaped, I struggled with leaving the house.”

“And now you’re here.”

“Yes. And few people other than my parents know I am. My mother pays people to keep it that way.”

Julia lifted her cup and drained it. “Understood. Your dad said as much. Other than my family and my best friend Nico, I don’t really talk to folks.”

Nüwa turned to face forward and lifted her cup of coffee now gone cold. “I didn’t mean for this to be such a heavy conversation.”

Julia stood and picked up her cup. “Where should I put this?”

“Sink is fine. I’ll get it later.”

“Why me?”

“What?”

“Why tell me? Why trust me?”

“I trust my father. And his judgement. If he trusts you, I trust you. He would have never invited you the first afternoon to stay with us if he had not. He would have shut the door in your face and left you to weather the storm alone.” Nüwa shifted her gaze to the window. “It looks like it’s clearing.”

Julia crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you want me to go?”

Nüwa studied Julia’s face. “I’m all right. I’ll be all right.”

“That’s not an answer. I don’t have anywhere to be.” Julia shoved her hands into her pockets. “It feels weird. To just leave.”

Nüwa crossed to where Julia stood. “You don’t owe me anything. It feels better to talk about it. I kept too many secrets for too long.”

Julia relaxed her posture and rubbed her hand over her bracelets. “Secrets.”

Nüwa leaned her hip against the counter. “What do you tell people about your cuffs?”

“Depends. Most of the time I blow it off as a fashion statement.”

“You didn’t with me. Why?”

“Because I knew you knew. I feel your power. You’re a Domme. Or maybe a switch.”

“Right the first time. I don’t have a submissive bone in my body. At least that didn’t come out in court.”

“Your subs were loyal?”

“They had just as much to lose as I did. Coming out as queer is one thing. Revealing your kink is quite another.”

Julia lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “It is. And ugh, the stereotypes. I’ve pretty much given up. Even on Hit Me Up.”

“Hit Me Up?”

“A dating app for folks into kink. Mostly light BDSM. The few who list total power exchange as their preference are subs.” Julia closed her eyes and rested her chin on her chest. “Or wannabe tops with no clue about it other than what they’ve read or seen in really bad films.”

Julia’s forlorn expression and hopeless tone tugged at Nüwa’s heart.

“Look at me.” Nüwa slid into her command voice and took up her power with both hands.

Julia lifted her gaze.

Nüwa gripped her chin. As she watched, Julia’s pupils dilated, the golden brown of her eyes becoming a fine rim of color. “Don’t give up. You are too young, and entirely too beautiful to be alone.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

The sensation of Julia relaxing into her command was heady.

Nüwa’s soul thrilled at the recognition, the acknowledgement. She held her gaze a long moment before she shifted her hand, cupped Julia’s face, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Julia sighed and leaned into her touch. A current of desire whipped through Nüwa, and she shuddered with the sensation.