Mia
I watched Andy as his hands paused on one of the shirts. There was a long silence, as though he were struggling with the answer himself.
I felt uncomfortable. I loved Andy, but his relationships with other people were his business, not mine. I felt like I’d just overstepped my boundary and worked to rectify myself.
“I’m sorry, Andy. You don’t need to answer that question.”
“No,” he said quietly. “That’s not it.” Another pause and then, “I don’t know. I don’t know what our relationship is.”
He sighed deeply and unhooked that particular shirt. It was a light-blue-and-dark-gray-checked shirt. He handed it to me and then proceeded to find me a pair of jeans.
“Andy, no need for the jeans. Just the shirt will do.”
He glanced at me and shook his head. “With that short dress, you’re way too tempting for those lousy men on the streets, Mia. You don’t understand men. You’re too innocent, living in such a small town where no one knows you exist. I was innocent too. Until I came here.”
He grabbed a pair of jeans from a slot in the corner and handed them over to me. “Here, change.”
I took the offered pants and nodded. “Okay. Thanks, Andy.”
He chuckled. “No problem.”
I began to undo the button as he turned. He was about to head out the door when he stopped in his tracks and just stared at me. He looked sick.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Andy?”
He didn’t say a word, just grabbed my wrist and peeled the material of my shirt over my chest.
“What the hell?” he swore, his eyes dark.
I was confused and looked down at myself. There was a dark bruise on my chest and lower, too, still covered by the shirt. Shit! I thought in dread. I knew this would happen. I knew Andy would react when he saw the bruises.
Oh, when we had been living under Uncle Herbert’s reign, he’d seen enough bruises on me to last both our lives. That was why he’d vowed to protect me, whatever may come, even putting himself in the firing line. That was why he never wanted to see another bruise on me ever again.
Andy undid the rest of the buttons and took the shirt off me. With only my bra on, he twisted me around to examine me closely. I was more than a little shocked by his aggressive treatment.
“Andy! What the hell are you doing?”
He growled. “How the hell did you get all these bruises?” he asked through gritted teeth.
Well, what could I tell him? That I’d gotten those bite marks and bruises from James during our lovemaking sessions? No way!
“Mia? Tell me who the fuck hurt you!” he demanded.
I bit my lip and stammered, “No one hurt me, Andy. It’s fine.”
He raked his hand through his hair in frustration. “Fuck me!”
I was pissed too. “Andy, you never use that type of language.”
He laughed sadly, as if to mock me. “Well, Mia. When you come here and go through so much shit, yeah, your language changes.”
My heart ached. “Oh, Andy…”
He looked both shocked and sick at his own aggressive reaction toward me. He worked to rectify himself by pulling me into his arms. “I’m sorry, Mia. I’m just so shocked, that’s all. Tell me who did this to you, please?”
“I told you. It’s nothing.”
“Shit! Mia, it’s not nothing. The bite marks. The bruises. Those only happen during…when… Fuck!”
I was shaken and said, my voice trembling, “When what?”
He growled in frustration. “Sex, Mia! When you have sex. Real. Hard. Core. Sex.”
“What? But it wasn’t hard. At least…not that hard,” I stammered.
“Were you raped?” he asked urgently.
“What?” I was confused.
“Were you raped, Mia?”
I shook my head. “No, of course not.”
He was quiet for a moment and then said, “Oh, I get it.”
“What? Get what?”
“It was Mr. Maxwell, wasn’t it?” he asked, his eyes bright and dark at the same time.
Slowly, I nodded.
“Shit! I can’t believe he did this to you,” he said in disbelief. Then he chuckled sadly. “I thought he was different from Matt. Shit! They’re friends, aren’t they? But I thought Mr. Maxwell was different since he was married once and everything.”
I didn’t get what he was talking about. “Andy?”
He turned to me. “Mia, what type of contract did you make with Mr. Maxwell? I know I said I’d sort everything out before you left… But now it looks like I have to sort it out immediately. I can’t leave you in his hands. You’ll suffer more than this; you know that. And I know… Oh fuck!” He raked his fingers through his hair again in frustration. “I won’t let you suffer…the pain…the humiliation… Shit! I won’t let you go through what I went through!”
I was scared at his strong emotions. “Andy, please. It’s nothing.”
He shook his head. “No, Mia. No. It’s not nothing. You always say that. It’s never nothing. Tell me what type of contract you signed with Mr. Maxwell.”
I sighed. “Me,” I said. “I signed myself over for the two million.”
He looked confused. “What? Come again?”
I swallowed and took a deep breath. “I signed a contract as James’ mistress in exchange for the two million.”
He just stared at me as if he couldn’t believe what I’d just said. Well, I wasn’t surprised, of course. I wouldn’t believe him either if he told me he’d just signed his life away as an escort or whatever in exchange for a debt.
“Fuck!” he swore. “Oh, Mia. It’s because of me, isn’t it?”
“It’s for the debt, Andy. The two million, like I told you last night.” I couldn’t believe he actually forgot about that. I thought I’d mentioned it to him already. Unless, of course, he’d heard but refused to fully accept it, accept I was now a mistress to some billionaire in order to pay off his debt.
He took a deep breath and nodded. “For the two million.” When he stared at me closely, I saw the determined look in his eyes. “I’m going to fix everything, Mia. Please trust me on this one.”
I bit my lip. “I trust you always, Andy. But please don’t do anything stupid.”
He just looked at me for a moment. “I promise he won’t hurt you again.” Then he took a few steps back. “Get changed. I’ll be back soon.”
“Where are you going?” I couldn’t help asking, panic in my voice.
He raked his fingers through his hair again and shrugged. “Personal business,” he said, his eyes on the floor.
Relief swept through me. So it was nothing to do with me and my bruises then. Thank God. I nodded, clutching the shirt and pants against my chest.
Before he closed the door, he said, “And don’t leave. Promise me you won’t go back to your own room, okay. Please wait for me until I get back.”
I nodded. “All right. But don’t be too long, okay?”
He gave me a smile and nodded. “See you soon.”
He closed the door before I could ask him what type of personal business. But I held myself in check as I didn’t want to overstep my boundary yet again. Even though we were close as siblings, I had no right to intervene in his life. And I personally wanted what was best for him, to let him enjoy his life and his freedom, which we both never really had since our parents’ death.
Then when I turned eighteen, I’d had enough of being under our aunt’s and uncle’s thumbs. I’d taken Andy and moved to another town, a smaller one, where hardly anyone knew we existed, where no one knew us or our history.
I returned my attention to dressing myself, shaking my head, wondering if Andy was overreacting about my bruises. But then again, he’d always overreacted where I was concerned, hadn’t he?
Once I was dressed, I turned to look at myself in the long mirror. I wanted to laugh. I looked like a senior high school girl in boy’s clothing. Andy’s shirt fit me just right though. To make it look more fashionable, I rolled up the sleeves and then tugged the hem under the waist of the jeans. I cocked my head to one side and nodded with approval. Yes, I looked pretty good. If I were a few inches taller, I could be a model. I smiled at the thought and headed back out the door to wait for Andy’s return.