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Cypress
I realize as we drive through town that I have no idea where we are, nothing looks familiar to me. “Where are we?” I ask curiously as I watch the scenery pass by the passenger window.
“Fort Mohave, Arizona.” Chris answers. Reaching over, he places his hand on my leg and squeezes reassuringly. I turn my head toward him and smile, placing my hand on top of his. He turns his hand, placing his palm against mine, and twines our fingers together. Leaving them resting on my thigh, he turns briefly toward me and winks before turning his attention back to the traffic ahead of us.
Keeping my gaze out the passenger window, I watch as the tall buildings disappear and the landscape changes to a vast desert landscape with scattered houses. We turn onto the highway, but not in the direction of home. Instead, we continue heading away from home, the opposite direction. “Where are we going?”
“Figured you could use a little time away.” I watch as the corner of his mouth curls up in a grin, but he doesn’t look at me.
“Oh, really? As if I haven’t already spent enough time away from home?” I realize when he winces that my attempt at humor was a huge failure. “Sorry.”
“No, Butterfly. Don’t apologize.” He squeezes my hand in reassurance. “You’re right. You have been away for long enough. But you deserve to do something fun.” He turns his gaze my way and smiles his full, happy, only-for-me smile. My heart melts and I fall just a little bit more in love with him.
“Okay.” I relent, returning the squeeze to his hand. Still watching him when he turns back to the road ahead, I watch the expression fall from his face and he gets a serious gleam in his eye. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, and I know there’s something that he isn’t telling me. “What’s going on?”
Shaking his head slowly side to side, he continues to chew his lip for several more seconds before answering. “There’s something I need to talk to you about. I’m not sure how to do it.”
“Just spit it out. There’s one thing that we will never keep between us going forward. Secrets. This is a fresh start for us, and we should be able to tell each other everything. No matter how hard. If we can’t do that, we have nothing.”
“You’re right.” He chews his lip again and I watch as he checks the rear-view mirrors. “Maybe I should pull over for this conversation.”
“Is it that bad?” I ask, concerned at how he’s suddenly acting and attempting to brace myself for more bad news.
“Yeah, baby. It’s bad. Give me just a second.” He turns the hazard lights on and moves over to the side of the road. I turn in my seat, pulling my left leg up so I can face him fully. He still has a strong hold on my hand, and I realize that he isn’t going to let me go. I don’t know that I want him to. “Cypress, your mother was involved in everything.” He watches me, waiting for a reaction.
Pressing my lips into a tight line, I think about what he told me about my mother. “What?”
“The trafficking. The women that disappeared. Your mother was involved in all of it.”
I think about what he’s saying, and it sparks something in my memory. Closing my eyes, I try to recall the conversation that Jodi and I overheard when David came crashing into the cottage a few days ago.
“Cypress?” Chris moves a hand up to cup my cheek and I lean against his touch, tilting my head to the side. My eyes squeeze shut tighter, trying to recall what was said about my mother the other day.
“David came to the cottage the other night. He was upset. He made so much noise when he came crashing into the cottage that he woke up all the women in the back room with the noise. He was yelling at Jase about something.”
“Baby, you don’t have to think about that. I know how hard it was for you being there, you don’t have to go through that right now.”
“No, I do. He said something about my mother not answering her phone. He said that she was in contact with the buyers and because he couldn’t get hold of her, he didn’t have any buyers.” My eyes fly open in a rush, and I stare straight into Chris’ concerned gaze. “The buyers. That’s what all those women were there for? And me? We were being sold into slavery as walking sex toys to some buyers?”
“Baby, don’t. You don’t have to go there.”
“Is it?” I demand an answer from Chris. I knew it was bad, whatever David and Jase were keeping us all caged up in that cottage for. I knew it wasn’t going to be for anything other than nefarious reasons. But this is worse that I could have imagined. We were meant to be sold. Trafficked. Oh, my God. When I think about how close I was to never being rescued, my head begins to spin and I’m suddenly grateful that I’m already sitting down.
“Yes.” He answers on a sigh. “It wasn’t just David and Jase working the trafficking collection. Your mother was involved, probably always has been. She admitted to it when we picked her up on accessory charges. She admitted that she’s been vetting victims for years at festivals and picking the ones for Jase to hit on in order to get close to them. Then David would pick them up. She would contact the potential buyers and set up an exchange. They’ve been doing it for years.”
“Oh, my God.” I breathe out, letting my head lay back against the door. I don’t have the strength to hold it up anymore.
“There’s more.”
Sitting back up and facing Chris fully, I swallow audibly, my hands clenching into fists. “How could there possibly be more? You’re telling me that my family has been trafficking women for years. There’s no telling how many women that were involved. Or how many of them are still out there somewhere waiting to be found. But there’s more?”
“I’m sorry baby, but you need to know” Chris unbuckles his seatbelt and turns in his seat to better face me. He grabs both of my hands in his before continuing. “Baby, they were going to sell you.”
“Well, yeah. I kind of figured that out when you told me that’s why we were all being held in that cottage.”
“No, Cypress. Before.”
“Before?”
“Before you went away to school. Before you became independent of them and left your life on the road to move to LA. They wanted to sell you.”
“W-what?” I can’t believe what he’s telling me. “That can’t be true.”
I watch as he nods his head slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Do you really want to hear all this now?”
“I need to know. What are you talking about?” My hands tighten around his, bracing myself for more news. He swipes his thumbs over my knuckles on both of my hands.
“You told me that you knew Jase was watching you. He spied on you sometimes.”
“Yeah.”
“He wanted you for himself. Your mom and David convinced him not to touch you. They were supposed to be able to get more for you if you were a virgin.” Tears that I have been trying to contain break free and spill down my cheeks. “Don’t cry, Butterfly.” Reaching across the seats, Chris unbuckles my seatbelt and pulls me into his chest. “You’re safe now. I got you.”
“D-does she k-know about t-the b-baby?” I stutter between sobs.
“I don’t know. But I’ll tell you I didn’t even bother asking. I don’t give a fuck if she knows or not. She will never be a part of our baby’s life. Never. I’ll protect you both to my dying breath, even from your family.”
I fist my hands into Chris’ shirt and sniffle a few times, willing the tears to stop. “You don’t have to protect me anymore Chris. They are nothing to me. You are our family now. They can all rot under a jail cell as far as I’m concerned. Not just for what they did to me, but for all the women they’ve ever victimized. The ones you saved in Mexico, the ones you got out of that cottage a few days ago, and however many more are still out there waiting to be found.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t want to make you cry. But you deserve to know the entire truth.”
“Thank you for telling me.” I rest my forehead against his chest as he brushes his hand over my back several times. “You saved me, Chris. You put an end to the evil that I’ve spent most of my life trying to hide from. You’re my redemption.”
“You saved me too, Cypress.”
“We saved each other.” Sitting up enough to see Chris’ handsome face, I place a palm against his cheek and run my thumb along the stubble on his jawline. It’s obvious to me that he’s had a hard time while he’s been looking for me. My normally clean shaved man has several days growth going. “I kind of like this.” I feel my cheeks heat as I think about all the places I wouldn’t mind him rubbing this scruff.
“Hmm.” He closes his eyes and presses his cheek into my hand. “Maybe I’ll keep it for a while longer.”
“Hmm,” I mimic him in return. “So where are you taking me for the fun that you speak of?”
“Have you ever been to Vegas?” He kisses the tip of my nose then rests his forehead against mine.
My eyes open wide as I pull away from Chris and look up at his smiling face. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, Butterfly.”
“I’ve been there once, but it was a long time ago. I wasn’t old enough to appreciate it for what it was.” Smiling, I sit back in my seat, turning back to face the front, and reach for my seatbelt. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go to Vegas!” I exclaim, suddenly excited to see the lights again.”
Chuckling, Chris turns back in his seat and puts the car into gear. Pulling back onto the practically deserted highway, he drives us to Sin City. A place I never thought I’d have a chance to see again. Even living just over four hours away from it, I didn’t think I’d have time to go. Between my boutique and yoga classes, not to mention I don’t have a car and the fare alone would break me, I never have the time to break away for anything as exciting as all the lights and casinos.
Chris holds my hand the entire time, our fingers twined together and resting on the center console. As we get closer to the city, the traffic becomes more congested. “It isn’t much to look at during the day,” he states plainly as we can see the taller buildings in the distance. “But once it gets dark, the city lights up brighter than the sun.”
“I can’t wait.” I bounce excitedly in my seat, my hand tightening in his grip.
“I thought we could do a bit of shopping once we get there.” I watch as the corner of Chris’ mouth curls up slightly. I wonder what he has in mind. “Then maybe walk around a bit and take in the sites.”
“Okay.”
The rest of the drive goes by quickly, the excitement buzzing through my veins increasing as we get close enough to see the buildings shimmering against the sun. Its rays reflecting of the billions of lights that won’t shine on their own until the sun goes down. The effect of the day light bouncing off the shiny bulbs is beautiful and reminds me of my crafting days when I was younger and experimenting with glitter. There wasn’t a day in my youth that I didn’t have the reflective metallic shards stuck to me somewhere – in my hair, on my clothes, stuck to my face. It’s like someone stood over the city and shook a container of vehicle sized glitter all over the buildings.
Pulling into a parking garage, the light disappears so fast that I can still see the remnants burned into my eyes. Blinking several times to acclimate to the difference, I wait for Chris to find a spot to park in. I watch, silently, as he exits the driver’s side of the car and walks around the back to my side. Opening my door, he reaches his hand out for me to grasp, and he helps me to my feet. As soon as I’m standing, he places a sweet kiss against my mouth, his palm cradling my face on one side. He holds my hand as we turn to walk to the exit of the garage onto the city sidewalk.
We visit several shops while walking through the city, hand in hand. Chris buys himself a new outfit, including shoes, and replaces his long-sleeved t-shirt and sweatpants with a broken suit. This is more the Chris that I’m used to seeing in his semi-professional appearance – all business on the outside with the bad-boy, tattooed persona kept hidden on the inside, waiting to make an appearance just for me.
We stop in a boutique and Chris sits on an oversized wing-back chair while I try on different wrap dresses. He smiles at each one as I step out from behind the dressing room curtain and model them for him. When I walk out in a bright purple dress, the hem hitting me just above the knee, he stands and walks over to me and places his hands on my waist. “This is the one.” He brushes a stray hair behind my hear before leaning in for a chaste kiss on the mouth. “Keep this one on.”
I watch as the dressing room attendant steps into the dressing room and gathers the remaining dresses, and my own clothes, and carries them to the counter at the front of the shop. She bags everything quietly and nods to Chris as we walk out of the shop, his hand now resting possessively against the small of my back.
It dawns on me as we continue walking, the buildings becoming more spaced out and father between, that we don’t have anything with us. I don’t know how I missed it before. We walked into each shop, and I watched as our things were bagged up with our selections, but we left each store empty-handed. “Where are all of our things?” I ask, curious as to what they are doing with each of the bags they put together for us.
“It’s all being taken care of.” He doesn’t elaborate and I wonder what he’s planning secretly in that head of his. Chewing on my lip, I keep my focus toward where we continue to walk, not paying attention to the buildings we’re passing by.
Chris grabs my hand and stops me from moving. I turn toward him in question, and he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me against his body. His mouth angles over mine and I open for him immediately. Allowing him to deepen and control our kiss, I moan against him and feel his grip on me tighten.
Breaking our kiss slowly, Chris pulls back and gazes into my eyes. His eyes are dark with desire, a smile spreading across his handsome face. “I love you,” he tells me. The truth of his words glimmering in his eyes, and I feel my heart swell as a lump forms in my throat. I’ll never tire of hearing those three words come out of his mouth.
“I love you, too.” I’ve never said those words to any other man in my life. To my mother, yes. But even that wasn’t enough. I realize now, after everything that I’ve learned recently, that she didn’t love me in return. Not really. This man though. He loves me. He genuinely loves me. I can feel it in every fiber of my being.
“So, what do you say?” Tilting my head to the side, I gaze at him questioningly. He tips his chin toward the building behind my back, and I look over my shoulder.
When I notice the sign over the door, I turn fully toward the chapel. “Are you serious?” I ask him without looking away from the wedding chapel sign hanging loosely over the door.
“Very.” He pulls me back against him, his arms wrapping around me as his hands flatten against my baby bump. His thumbs trace gentle circles along my belly, and I realize he isn’t just caressing me. He’s caressing his baby. The love pouring out of this man for the both of us washes over me in waves and my eyes begin to blur as they fill with tears.
I realize in this moment, that I really do want to marry this man. I knew it before, when he asked me in the hospital room. Without a doubt, I knew I was ready to become his wife. His everything. But now, standing in front of this chapel, I realize that I’m ready now. “Okay,” I answer honestly. “Let’s do it.” I turn in his arms, he loosens his hold on me but doesn’t remove his arms from around me.
“Okay,” Chris mimics back to me, tracing the slope of my nose with the tip of his own softly. He grabs my hand and pushes the chapel door open. We walk in together, single for the last time.
When we leave here, I will be Mrs. O’Neil.