Epilogue: The Dark Duet

Epilogue:

The
Dark Duet

 

 

CJ Roberts

 

1
st
eBook Edition

Copyright © 2013 Neurotica Books LLC, CJ Roberts

All rights reserved.

 

******
eBook Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This ebook may not be resold or given away to others unless a separate copy has
been purchased. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places
and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously
and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 CJ Roberts, Neurotica Books

www.aboutcjroberts.com

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or
reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Photo credit: Yuri Arcurs

Cover design: Pixel Mischief 

www.facebook.com/PixelMischiefDesign 

Edited by: Emily Turner ([email protected])

Also by CJ Roberts

Books and Stories by CJ Roberts

Captive in the
Dark (The Dark Duet, Book 1)

Seduced in the
Dark (The Dark Duet, Book 2)

Epilogue (The
Dark Duet, Book 3)

 

Stories by Jennifer Roberts

High Stakes
Nikki (Sexy Shorts)

Manwich (Sexy
Shorts)

Seducing
Sunshine (Sexy Shorts)

 

Books with contributions from Jennifer Roberts

Sin City: Six
Scintillating Stories (Anthology)

High Stakes Nikki

Some Like it Bi
(Anthology) 

Seducing Sunshine

For Caleb’s Kittens

And their Tomcat

Table of Contents

There was only
one thing the void wanted. Greedily tearing me apart, it asked for Livvie. It
wanted my hopes, my dreams. It wanted my memories of her face. It wanted the
laughter we had shared. “Mine,” the void had decreed. Only Livvie could make me
whole, and as soon as I had realized it, I couldn’t stop looking for her. 

--
Caleb

Chapter One

I’m writing this because you begged.
You know how I love the begging. In fact, you probably know too many things and
know them far too well.

It’s been a long time since
Captive in the Dark
; today is Friday,
February 8
th
, 2013. In May it will have been four years since I sat
in a tinted sedan and contemplated kidnapping Livvie. I’m twenty-nine now and I
finally know it for a fact. Sometimes I wish I didn’t because I have to face
turning thirty in August. Livvie is eight years my junior, but you wouldn’t
know it by the way she talks to me sometimes (I think she just likes getting a
spanking).  Livvie and I have changed
considerably from the people you read about. However, because you begged so
nicely, I will endeavor to tell you the story you want to hear.

Before I move on, a word about names.
They were very important in Livvie’s books and it’s worth mentioning.  Shakespeare
asked, “What is in a name?” I can
tell you—a whole hell of a lot.

Livvie is now named Sophia. She changed
her name when she entered the witness protection program in the United States
in exchange for her testimony against her kidnapper and rapist (that’s me).

 However, you know her as Livvie and so I’ll
continue to call her that for your benefit, but of course, that would beg the
question: Who am I?

Am I Caleb?

Am I James?

I’ve often asked myself this very thing
and have always come up with a different answer. Perhaps the only truthful answer
is, “I am both.”

Caleb will always be a part of me—probably
the largest part. I want to be James.

James is a 29-year-old from Oregon. He
was raised by his mother and always wondered about his father. He grew up with
respect for women but also a need to display his masculinity to make up for his
lack of a father. He went to college but took time off before grad school to go
and see the world. He met Sophia at
The
Paseo de Colon
and fell instantly in love.

James never met anyone named Livvie. He
never hurt her.

We know different. We know the truth.
So, for the purposes of this story you begged me to tell—I am Caleb.

I am the man who kidnapped Livvie. I am
the man who held her in a dark room for weeks. I’m the one who tied her to a
bedpost and beat her. I’m the one who nearly sold her into sexual slavery. But,
most importantly, I am the man she loves.

She loves me. It’s quite sick, isn’t
it?

Of course, there’s more to our story
than can be surmised in a few short sentences, but I’m at a loss for justifying
my behavior back then. I assume if you’re reading this, I don’t need to make
those justifications. You’ve already made your own.

You’re reading this because you want to
know about the rest of the story. You want to know what happened that warm
summer night in September of 2010, the night I met Livvie at
The Paseo.
It was the night my life
changed all over again.

It didn’t happen exactly as Livvie
said. She’s been very kind to me in the retelling of our story. The truth is
far more… complicated.

Livvie would have you believe we kissed
and it was all that needed to be said.

I wish it had been so simple. The part
about the kiss is true. She kissed me. It had been a year since we touched. A
year since I’d watched her walk away. An entire year since she killed for me
and I repaid her by dropping her off at the Mexican border covered in blood.
She kissed me and my head
did
swim. I
can tell you unabashedly, it was probably the happiest I’d ever been before.

Then she slapped me. Hard. I think my
head vibrated.

I remember holding my face together and
thinking, “I’m going to jail now.”

“How could you?” Livvie asked. I could
hear the pain in her voice and it gutted me.

I believed she’d moved on. She’d made a
life and I’d come along one last time to fuck it up. It was the minute that
would never end. In that single minute, I replayed Livvie’s and my time
together in my mind and I berated myself for ever thinking she could forgive me
for the things I’d done.

“I won’t run, Livvie. I’ll let them
take me and you’ll never see me again.” I couldn’t meet her eyes. I’d been
dreaming of her for so long, imagining her face smiling at me. I couldn’t bear
seeing her disgust toward me. I didn’t want to remember her that way.

Slowly, the longest minute of my life
ticked away. I couldn’t hear any sirens; there weren’t any men slamming me to
the ground and putting me in handcuffs. It was strange.

“Never see you again? How stupid could
you be? You can’t just walk into my life and expect to leave me again. I won’t
let you, Caleb. Not this time.”

And if you can believe it… she slapped
me
again
.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Stop
hitting me!” Livvie was a blur. She hit me so hard my damn eyes were watering
(I was
not
crying—eyes water. I think
we all know I’m a badass and I don’t cry). After I cleared my eyes, I could see
the anger in hers, the hurt… but also her longing. She longed for me. I knew it
only because I could recognize her face as a mirror of my own.

“How could you leave me, Caleb? I
thought… I thought you were dead,” she cried. 
She wrapped her arms around my waist and held me tight. It felt so good
to have her in my arms again, I couldn’t think of anything but the feel of her
against me.

“I’m sorry, Livvie. I’m so sorry,” I
whispered into her hair. I couldn’t believe I was with her again. I can’t even
describe it to you. Suffice to say, if I’d died in that moment, I’d have been
fine with it.

We stood there for a long time. She
held on to me. I held on to her. We said things with our silence we couldn’t
put into words. I suppose that’s what she meant by, “it was all that needed to
be said.”

I felt all the things I could only have
felt with Livvie: hollow, and simultaneously, full to bursting.

“I’ve missed
you, Livvie. I’ve missed you like you wouldn’t believe.”

I don’t know how long we stood there
holding one another as tourists passed us by. We were simply another couple,
enjoying the warm evening together. No one knew who we were or what we had been
through to get to that moment. However, even in that elegantly prolonged
circumstance, I knew it couldn’t last forever. I had many things to say to
Livvie. I was afraid of the things she might have to say to me.

I felt her shaking in my arms, her
shoulders quaking against my chest, and I knew she was crying. I didn’t hold it
against her. She was more than entitled to her tears. I, unfortunately,
couldn’t express myself in quite the same way. So much had happened to me in my
life. I’d cried all the tears I had in me to weep. All I could offer was
strength. I could be strong for her. I could hold her, rock her, and shield her
from the dozens of eyes around us.

The women glared at me as they passed.
“What did you do?” their eyes accused.

The men sent pitying glances or
condescending smirks my way. “Sucks to be you.”

I ignored them. They weren’t worth my attention.

“Can I get us out of here?” I
asked.  I felt the gentle nod of Livvie’s
head against my chest. I pulled back slowly, not sure if I was prepared for
what might happen next. Suddenly, it didn’t matter. Livvie looked up at me, and
even with tears in her eyes, she smiled. I had been waiting a long time to see
her smile. It had been worth every horrible second I’d been without her.

“I missed you too. So much,” she
whispered and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry. It’s just… it’s
so fucking good to see you!”

And then
I
smiled. I took her hand and we walked. All around me, life seemed
surreal. I’d have thought I was in a dream were it not for the way my face
stung. I was tempted to mention it, to make a joke of some kind to break up the
tension just under the surface of our joy, but I opted to say nothing. Livvie
was with me and it was all that mattered to me.

“Did you drive?” she asked.

“I did,” I replied somewhat awkwardly.
“It was optimistic, I guess. I figured either it would be my last opportunity
to drive the streets of Barcelona, or I’d be driving you back to my place in
style.” I laughed half-heartedly. The longer it took to get to my car, the more
awkward the situation became.

Livvie stopped walking and I jerked to
a halt.

“I don’t think
I’m ready for that… Caleb.” She looked around as if making sure we weren’t
alone. She slipped her hand from mine.

I tried not to let it bother me. Of
course she’d be frightened to go anywhere with me, but it still stung. I tried
to smile as sincerely as possible and shoved my hands in my pockets.

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