Page 21 of Wanted
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Alex came and went. Fylox said his dad was still MIA. He was growing worried, but he didn’t let me in on his thoughts.
The visits were irregular, but Alex always had a new story to tell and a brand-new sports bra in my size because he knew I needed bras in my exile. When he came here, we gathered in the living room to watch his games. We never watched the news. I didn’t know what was happening outside of this house, except for the basketball games Alex won. Fylox and Alex discussed his career, and then Fylox left. Every time, Alex and I watched a light movie. We had a laugh. We fell asleep in each other’s arms. I always woke up first, leaving him to sleep.
And then I trained with Fylox. My coordination was good, he always claimed, but I needed to work on my strength.
On some days, he took off his shirt. On those days, I was less focused than usual. His scars were endless, and his pain unconceivable. I couldn’t comprehend who did this to his body. I saw burned skin, and I studied his knife scars. It didn’t make me want him less. Fylox was toned, less so than Alex, but my trainer was mean as fuck. When that hand of his wrapped around my throat, I actually felt it ten times worse than when Aram’s weak little hand grabbed me.
It was a good thing I was allowed to do my own laundry. My panties were in constant need of change. I washed them at night when everyone was asleep. Afterward, they’d smell like citrus, which didn’t make it any better, but at least my juices were gone.
“You should come to do it out in the sun. Let her get some vitamin D, man. She’s growing paler every time I visit,” Alex said, announcing his entry to the cellar Fylox and I trained in. Today was one of my trainer’s shirtless days. “If you make her any whiter, we’ll have a problem.”
Yes, Kamila. You should exercise. Why are you staying inside all day? I never told you to wither away in here. I protected you from the mean people of our country. You’re supposed to grow into your own now. Go out. Have fun at the beach. Perhaps it’s time you brought a boy home. How about Colton? He seems like a sweet boy. Man. How old is he again?
I turned to look at Alex, who leaned against the doorframe, and then I glanced at Fylox, whose eyes were set on me. I blurted out, “I’m fine with some vitamin D. I’m in desperate need of it, actually. Alex is absolutely right.”
As we left the dark cellar, Alex chuckled, making me all tingly inside. Fylox followed us upstairs without a single word. I felt his eyes on me, burning every inch of my skin.
An hour later, I was sparring with Fylox in the heat of the sun for the first time in weeks. It did feel nice to take in sunlight, but my sweating made it hard to enjoy it. The garden was unkempt, wild plants and trees looking miserable. It was disrespectful. I made a mental note to start fixing up this garden. I’d be here for a long time. I might as well make something out of it.
Both men in my proximity were shirtless. For a day in late autumn in this part of their country, they were enjoying every bit of sun they could get their hands on. And I stood there, unable to get my hands on anything. Fylox was fast on his feet, predicting my moves before I even made them. He always managed to bruise me somehow while acting out possible scenarios where self-defense skills would come in handy. I never managed to get through to him. I’d never thought of my life as mine to defend, so it was difficult to step into that mindset. Spoiled brats like me never had to vend for themselves. I always had bodyguards or my name to protect me. If one person laid a finger on me that wasn’t my father, there’d be hell to pay.
Your body is your temple, sweetie. You don’t let anyone harm you. Do you hear me? Promise me that if anyone ever hurts you, you’ll tell me. I’m doing all I can to protect you, but you’ve got to work with the bodyguards and with me.
“Where’s your head at? Get it together,” Fylox ordered, cornering me against one of the trees. He was in close range. I couldn’t punch him. Instead, I found myself inhaling his scent while gazing at the marks on his skin. He was undefeatable, but there was a routine to his training. It took me some days to find out when he did what and for what reason.
Think ahead. You’re the Princess of Katantia, my untouchable baby girl. I love you so much.
“Thank you,” I said. Alex chuckled, listening to our exchange. His eyes were on us while he did crouches or sit-ups or whatever the hell these athletes came up with to keep their bodies in check.
“For what?” Fylox asked, taken aback.
I swallowed. I had a lot of things to thank him for. Thanks to him and the other shirtless guy a couple of feet away, I had imagery to touch myself to. It was the least they could do for cutting me out of civilization. I missed the numbness of drugs, but I missed the excitement of sex more. In Katantia, I could leave the house, go to a Hole Store or a whorehouse, and see some pretty imagery. Maybe get off or have a chat with the girls. I also visited gay gatherings with Travis; they were the most fun. The bottom line is that sex was everywhere at home. I lived, and I breathed it. Here, I was an empty shell that resorted to masturbating to images in my head without anybody to touch or to get touched by. For a Katantian, that was depressing.
Then again, I was grateful for the absence of my father. I discovered new layers of myself in his absence.
We’re always with you, sweetie. Your daddy and I will always love you. No, your daddy loves you. He’s just bad at showing it. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise. Mommy and Daddy love you. You make us so proud.
“For helping me with everything. You spend all of your time with me, and you don’t ask for anything in return,” I blurted out. “It doesn’t seem like we get along very well, but you see beyond that. I’m grateful for what you guys are doing. Really.”
Fylox took a step back, tilting his head to the side. He studied me as if I was hard to decipher. There wasn’t much I wanted, some head, some weed, and less sweating.
“I’m not doing this for you,” Fylox responded. I was faintly aware of it, but his words hurt me nonetheless. “Jordan asked me to look out for you, so I am. I’m not doing anything he wouldn’t do.”
“Yeah, my dad wouldn’t stare at her tits like he wants to rub his dick between them,” Alex commented from wherever he was in the garden. “And he certainly wouldn’t stare at her ass like he wants to fuck it sore.”
“So, we’re allowed to curse again?” I asked, confused and completely ignoring the essence of what Alex had to say.It’s not proper for a young lady to curse. You set an example for the youth and an entire nation, Kamila. Behave yourself!
“You know better than to accuse me of those things,” Fylox responded to his best friend. The hiss was almost ready to leave his mouth. He was close to frustration, his fist twitching to hit something. I could sense that my jaw would be his fist’s victim…
“I know you, Fylox.” Alex stepped closer. I heard him come, but I didn’t see him. My eyes were blurry and set on Fylox’s hands. I patiently awaited the next hurtful thing he’d utter. We spent a lot of time together. I hoped our relationship had improved from that day when I told him about Felicita deciding between her young daughter and me.
“You think so.” Fylox’s court response was sharp, like the knives that carved his skin.
Alex let out a low chuckle. “I know what you do when you’re alone. I don’t understand it, but I know where you go in the city when you think nobody’s watching. You’re my best friend. I lost you once. I don’t think I ever found you again. I think you’re still looking to find yourself.”
“Stop talking,” Fylox demanded, raising his voice ever so roughly. My heart pumped loudly and in excitement. He scared me when he got like this, stern and unbent. If only I could get Alex to spill the details on Fylox, my life would have more juice to it. But Alex was a loyal friend, upholding his friendship first and foremost.
