Page 37 of Waters that Drown Us
She takes another set of deep breaths, probably calculating the probability that I’m lying. If Iwereworking for Konstantin’sempire, I certainly would be lying. But I also would have had hundreds of opportunities over the past four weeks to take her back to Russia on their behalf, and I hope she’s taking that into consideration.
“Are you going to kill me?”
“No.” This one I can promise. Even if Bea doesn’t end up siding with me, and I can’t keep Alice from being a pawn in Clara’s scheme, I will not be the one who kills her. Clara can execute us side by side, if she needs to.
“Are you a danger to me?”
I open my mouth to give the same answer, but it catches in my throat. Alice’s eyebrow raises, but she doesn’t seem afraid, or really even surprised. She looks impatient.
“I am doing my best not to be.” It’s the most forthright thing I can say without explaining the entire situation, which I don’t think Alice wants to hear right now. She nods a little, her expression unchanging, and crosses her arms over her chest.
“I think we’re both aware that neither of us has been completely honest over the past few weeks,” she says, the faintest Russian accent tinging her words. I wonder if the slip is because she’s channeling the cold, distant affect her father is infamous for. “Why should I trust you?”
I had a feeling, if she really did show up to this meeting she planned while inebriated and terrified, she was going to ask this question. And I’ve been debating all day how to answer it.
I could launch into the full explanation, but it would sound like a preposterous cover. I could confirm all the truths I’ve told her during our time together, or how she’s made me brave, or how I feel about her. But I’ve decided that Alice has heard pretty words her whole life. But what she wants more than anything else is to know that others have faith in her. That they see her not as a girl hiding from the evils come to haunt her, but as someone who had the bravery to escape.
“Tell me what I can do to prove it to you, and I will. I swear it.”
Maybe the universe is on my side, because it seems like that was the answer she was looking for. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small plastic bag with a tiny triangle inside. In my line of work, unmarked pills in bags are never a good sign.
“Relax, it’s motion sickness medication," she says, her voice free of any of the deadpan humor I’ve come to love. She shakes the little corner into her hand and pops it into her mouth without further fanfare.
“I can’t decide if you’re a very good liar, or my instincts are very keen. Or I could be losing my mind, who knows?” She shrugs causally as she shoves the plastic bag back in her tote. “But for some reason, Iwantto believe that you’re not going to hurt me. So I’m doing something no sane person would. I’m going to let you prove it.”
I track her movements as she holds her tote out in front of her and drops it at my feet. It lands with a soft thud, the zipper splitting open a few inches with the force.
“What do you mean?” I ask carefully, watching her blink a little slower.
“You’re going to take these keys,” she instructs, fishing the familiar pair from her pocket and holding them out to me. “You’re going to drive the Class II out to the edge of the shelf. Shallow enough that you can drop anchor. And you’re going to break me.”
My heart stutters in my chest, and I can feel my eyes go wide. No. This is not happening. Thiscan’thappen.
“Alice, this is a bad idea…” I start to argue, but trail off when she starts laughing. It’s humorless, like last night when I said I could protect her.
“I really don’t care,” she says, shrugging and popping her hip, a stance I’ve never seen from her before. Could she be having a breakdown? I can’t take advantage of her in this state.
“Are you high? Drunk?” I ask, and she rolls her eyes.
“No, and I suppose you’re just going to have to believe me on that one.”
“I don’t understand,” I admit, hoping she’s not asking for what I think she’s asking for.
“You said you know I’m not fragile,” she begins, looking directly in my eyes like the force of her gaze will make me understand. “This is how I want you to prove you’re being honest, and that I can trust you in my most vulnerable state. I’ll be a little drowsy from the cinnarizine, but I am consenting here and now to have you control my body.”
“Alice, there has to be another way,” I argue, panic and desire ratcheting up my pulse with equal effect. Of course I’ve imagined this before, thought about her taking every once of pleasure I have the power to give her, even when it feels like too much. Show her a whole new world of carnality, one driven by experiencing the way every sensation can bring her closer to the edge.
But not now. Not when she’s rightfully angry. Not when we haven’t talked this through, and I can confirm that she’s in the appropriate state to consent to this. Not when I know that fear and ire are motivating her, when compassion and trust should be at the forefront.
“You said you’d do anything to prove I can trust you, and this is what I want,” she says with a finality that makes my heart sink and my blood pressure rise. “You can sayjellyfishany time. Back out. But this is whatIwant.”
“I can’t,” I say,jellyfishon the tip of my tongue. I can’t give her what she wants. It’s wrong. I’ve lied to her, manipulated her, taken advantage of her trust and vulnerability. Ican’t.
“You can,” she says, so much more sure than I’ll ever be. “Because I need you to show me that you trust that I’m not breakable, unless I want to be broken. And that I can trust you to only break me in the ways I need.”
She’s so close, but I don’t touch her. Even though I think it’s the only thing that will unbreakme.
I shouldn’t want this, but I do. Not only because dragging her along the edge of pleasure and pain would be the most exquisitely erotic thing I would ever experience. But because I want to show her how closely I can read her body, listen to her words, taste the need on her skin. That we can trust each other in this, and hopefully one day, everything else too.