“You can tell my brother and his wife you’re leaving your boyfriend. They can guess why.”

Elle laughed mirthlessly. She was getting tired of lying about herself.

“Leaving my boyfriend. Sounds so vanilla,” Elle said. “I was the sexual property of a sadistic Dominant Catholic priest and now I’m ‘leaving my boyfriend.’”

“You can’t tell people the truth,” Kyrie said. “They’ll freak out, and they won’t help us.”

“You’re sure your brother will?”

“Yeah,” Kyrie said. “He’s a good guy. Conservative. But he loves me. He and his wife have a pretty big house. I know we can stay there for a while, at least while we figure things out.”

“Okay. We’ll go to California. I’ve always wanted to swim in the Pacific Ocean.”

Kyrie laughed. “You’ll need a wetsuit. The water is freezing.”

Elle sighed. “There goes that dream.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault the ocean’s cold out there.” She held Kyrie’s face in her hands and kissed her. “I have other dreams. Better dreams.”

“Am I in them?”

“You’re in all of them. We’ll go to your brother’s house, and I’ll get a job. We’ll make it work. Maybe your sister’s agent can sell the book.”

“I’m sure she can. The book is so good. I love it.”

“I’ll write another one. And another one.”

“Good. I want to read them all.”

“Maybe I’ll write one with two girls next time. Athena and Aphrodite fall in love.”

“Weren’t they sisters?”

“They can’t breed. Who cares?”

Kyrie laughed, and Elle kissed her again, happy to see a smile.

“That’s better,” Elle said. “We’ve got a long journey ahead of us. I need you to be strong for me, okay? Once I leave, they won’t let me back in here. When we go, we have to go, and there’s no coming back.”

“I understand.”

“I can’t leave here without you.”

“Yes, you could. You just don’t want to.” Kyrie smiled.

“Of course I don’t want to leave without you. Not now or ever. But I have a reason to leave now, and it has nothing to do with him.”

Kyrie held up the handwritten pages of Elle’s book. “We’ll do it for this.”

“I didn’t believe you when you said you’d figure out what I was supposed to do with my life.”

“I told you I would.”

“Now I believe you. You were right.”

“Good. That’s all I needed to hear.” Kyrie reached for Elle again and they kissed. Elle pushed Kyrie onto her back and caressed her face, her hair, her neck and arms.

Elle took the lit candle off the bedside table. Kyrie raised her hand.

“Can we just sleep tonight?” Kyrie asked. “For a while, you and me. We’ve never slept together.”

“Will you wake up in time?”

“Does it matter if I don’t?” Kyrie looked up at Elle and smiled nervously. “We’re leaving.”

“Good point. I guess if we get caught now...what’s the worst they can do? Kick us out?”

“Exactly.”

“Okay. We can sleep.” Elle blew the candle out and slid under the covers. She was small herself, but Kyrie was smaller. She pulled Kyrie against her, her back to Elle’s chest. They lay together spooned tight until they fell asleep. When Elle woke up at dawn, Kyrie had already returned to her cell.

Elle took deep breaths to calm herself. They had a plan. Meet at night, leave through the oratory. Walk to the city. Buy bus tickets.

And then...who knew? And who cared? She’d have Kyrie with her, someone to take care of, someone to be with so she wouldn’t have to do it all alone.

Nothing left to do now but pack.

The day had come.

Time to go.

33

New York City

TWO MONTHS SINCE leaving Haiti and Kingsley was still alive, still functioning. He wasn’t sure how he did it, but he did it. He survived losing Juliette. He didn’t drink—not much. No more than usual. He didn’t slip back into his old drug habits. He didn’t engage in any wildly self-destructive behaviors. Of course, he did fuck as often as possible. When in doubt, Kingsley fucked. That had been his coping mechanism all his life, and it had always served him well.

Kingsley played smart and fucked only people he trusted. Women he’d known for years, who’d known him for years and had no interest in pursuing a relationship. He fucked Simone, one of the better pro-submissives of his acquaintance and Søren’s go-to masochist when his Little One was unavailable. He wondered how much time Simone had spent on Søren’s Saint Andrew’s Cross lately. He didn’t ask. Kingsley was certain he didn’t want to know. There was also Tessa, who’d worked for him on and off for years. He went out a few nights with Griffin and seduced a beautiful twenty-seven-year-old gold-medal-winning diver named Hunter, whom Griffin trained with at his gym. Kingsley had hunted Hunter, and now Hunt, as he preferred to be called, had been Kingsley’s most constant bedtime distraction for the past month.

For all his coping, he did have a weak moment and considered, for almost an entire minute, taking Calliope to bed. He discarded the idea quickly. She was eighteen and her adoration and affection for him made it easier to get through the day, to get back to work. He adored her and wanted only the best for her. And sleeping with her might compromise the high esteem she held him in, and he needed someone’s love right now, even if it was from the eighteen-year-old girl who picked up his dry-cleaning.