“I was younger than you. I know that much. A man named, Narweh, used a bullwhip on me. There was a lot of blood. The beating left scars, but I would have died if…if Rafiq hadn’t saved my life.” Caleb cleared his throat and focused on soaping.
Livvie tried to turn and face him, but Caleb wouldn’t allow it. He simply moved her body in the direction he wanted and continued to wash her.
Her deadened voice broke the silence, “Why would someone do that to you?”
“I was….” He couldn’t tell her. He couldn’t tell her about the person he’d been, or the things he’d done. She was the one person who deserved to know, but he refused to say. “I was too weak to defend myself. Instead, I went back later and killed him.” He chuckled, lost in thought. “With the gun you pulled on me, in fact.”
Livvie was tense under his hands, her shoulders knotted. “Is that…? Is that the reason you feel like you owe Rafiq? Because he saved your life?”
Caleb’s hands inadvertently clenched and Livvie hissed in pain. He immediately let her go and reached for more soap. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
Livvie didn’t face him. She simply stared at the wall. “What about me, Caleb? Don’t you think you owe me anything?”
Caleb regretted having said anything at all. What had he been thinking to say anything so personal? And to Livvie of all people – whom he planned to subjugate for his own ends to repay a twelve year debt? It was reckless and stupid beyond anything he’d done so far.
“No,” he said. It felt like a lie. It was a lie. He owed her plenty. He’d been naïve to think he’d ever be free of his debt. He’d always owe someone. “But if you ever want your revenge against me, you let me know.”
Livvie said nothing for several minutes before she turned to look at Caleb, “I don’t want revenge, Caleb. I don’t want to end up like you, letting some fucking vendetta run my life. I just want my freedom. I want to be free, Caleb. Not someone’s whore…not even yours.”
Caleb’s throat felt like it was on fire as he acknowledged the sincerity in Livvie’s words. This had been her game the entire time. He’d known it, reminded himself repeatedly, even begrudgingly respected her attempts – but he’d still fallen for it. He deserved every bit of what he was getting. He knew it and didn’t care.
He stepped forward, prodding Kitten out of the way and rinsed his body beneath the cooling spray of the water. He could feel Kitten’s stare on his body, but refused to acknowledge her. Once he was done rinsing, he opened the glass shower door, grabbed a towel and headed for the bedroom.
“You’re leaving!” Kitten cried, busting out of the shower and gripping his arm.
Caleb pushed her away somewhat forcefully and continued into the bedroom. “I have a lot of things to do today. You’ve taken up too much of my time lately as it is,” he said coldly. For a moment he looked about the room for his pants, then realized he hadn’t come in wearing any because he’d come to address her late-night ranting some time after he’d gone to bed. He glanced at her face and saw the hurt in her eyes, tears stood at the ready. She swallowed hard to keep them at bay as her hands covered her breasts.
“You’re going to go now, after everything? I thought…” her voice trailed off, teetering somewhere between anger and hurt. Something twisted inside Caleb’s stomach at the sight of her. He wanted to kiss her and tell her things that would make her stop crying; but then just the thought he’d considered such a thing solidified his anger and resolve.
“You thought what? You thought offering me a little pussy was going to make some kind of a difference? You thought you’d suck my dick and I’d just give you whatever the fuck you wanted?!”
His words cut her deeply, as he intended. He wanted to make sure there was absolutely no confusion. He walked toward her and tilted her chin upward and she instinctively recoiled, trying to get away from his hand. He gripped her harder, holding her in place.
“I did think it was really cute when you said you loved me though.” He visibly saw her shoulders slump then and her eyes closed slowly. He let her face go and without hysterics she walked toward the bed and put her head down onto her pillow and crawled into a ball.
For a few moments, he waited for her to retaliate, but she said nothing. He walked calmly toward the door, opened it, and walked through without a glance in her direction. He closed the door behind him gently, and awkwardly wondered why he suddenly felt hollow. Wrapped in nothing but a towel, he made his way toward his room.
Once inside his room, Caleb stood for a moment, staring into nothingness as water dripped off of him. Livvie had said she loved him and he’d made her feel stupid. Something in his gut twisted at the thought and at the memory of her tears. He often thought she looked beautiful when she cried, because she was nervous, or afraid, or embarrassed, but these weren’t the same; he’d really hurt her. She’d hurt, him, too. Caleb couldn’t change who he was.
He hadn’t thought about Rafiq in a very long time. He’d been too busy playing house with Livvie. Too busy to think about the debt he owed and why he owed it. It was probably the reason Rafiq had been in his dreams as of late. It was his subconscious’ way of reminding him not to lose focus. He’d ignored it. He couldn’t do it anymore.
The night before, he’d had a dream about speaking with Rafiq about the murder of his mother and sister. Caleb had been in Rafiq’s study, learning the English alphabet and the sound each letter made. He’d been proud to discover he could use the sounds of the letters to make sense of words. They had begun to look less like a collection of squiggly lines and slowly, but surely, he could read some words without sounding them out.
Rafiq had been teaching him English and Spanish at the same time, because they used the same letters. It had been confusing at first, because they didn’t make the same sounds, but Caleb was learning. The Arabic and Urdu were much harder to read, but easier to speak because he’d grown up with them. His Russian was a mess on both counts, but Rafiq insisted he learn it.
Caleb knew he had to learn the Russian because it was Vladek’s native tongue. Caleb had become hungry for information about Vladek after Narweh’s death, but Rafiq often refused to give too much detail when it came to the murders of this mother and sister.
Somewhere in his mind, Caleb knew the incident was painful for Rafiq, but as Caleb didn’t have a mother or any siblings he knew of, it was difficult to wrap his mind around Rafiq’s emotions. With the exception of Rafiq’s thirst for revenge, which Caleb understood empirically, he often wondered what Rafiq was dealing with emotionally.
Rafiq had given him a long speech about family, loyalty, duty and honor. He said he had had responsibilities to his father and to his country.
“I expect obedience, Caleb. I expect your loyalty. Anyone who betrays me will only do it once. Do you understand?” Rafiq had said ominously.
“Yes, Rafiq, I understand,” Caleb had replied.
Caleb finally returned from his far off thoughts and began to dry off and dress. It was going to be a shitty day. That much, was obvious.
A knock on the door drew his attention. He answered and Celia immediately cast her eyes downward and held a deep curtsy.
“¿Qué quieres?” he asked more harshly than he intended.
Celia stood slowly, eyeing him with confusion, but then explained her master, Felipe, had requested an audience with him.
Caleb reluctantly agreed to come down stairs after he was fully dressed. He also reminded her to please feed Kitten. He wouldn’t be returning to her room for the day and he didn’t want her starved. Celia nodded, gave him what he interpreted to be a judgmental look and walked away. Caleb slammed the door behind her.