Page 123 of Volatile Waters

EPILOGUE

Beauty Within Us All

In attempts to protect each other, Wolf and I never shared our true names with each other. If one or the other were abducted and tortured for information, neither could bring harm if we didn’t know each other’s legal identities. Instead, we traveled the world, gleaning to know each other outside the walls that had confined us both. It was an adjustment, to say the least. His patience with me learning not to be a Master was kind and generous. We both quickly learned I loved as fiercely as I hated, and I lacked the ability to forgive myself. So, Wolf had me working on what I could change—what I could help: Whitney.

To not blatantly interfere with her life, we kept track of her through Link’s blog posts. At first, we could see the strain on his face since Whitney had returned home. There was exhaustion in his expression and upper body language, the way his shoulders drooped. But it didn’t last. Eventually, a smile was present during his blogs. His shoulders set back. A proudly lifted chin.

“Why are you grinning, Jorien?” asked Wolf.

We were sitting next to each other at the dining room table in our island bungalow, each of us in front of a laptop. I explained, “The kid looks good.”

“Do I need to be jealous?” teased Wolf.

He knew there would never be a reason for any jealousy. I craved no one but him. My actions showed him daily, nightly, and sometimes hourly.

I sighed as the Caribbean breeze blew in through the open windows. “She’s okay.” If Link was pulling through, that meant Whitney was.

His fingers stopped typing while he stared at me in awe. “I love you.”

Every time I made efforts to correct one of my many wrongs, I got to hear those words.

I swallowed, unable to offer the same words because I still did not feel worthy of his devotion. Things like this take time.

Wolf’s hand cupped my cheek as he smiled at me before going back to his laptop.

Link continuously held back on his personal knowledge of the sexual servitude trade. There was much appreciation in my heart for his upspoken protection. She deserved it.

Wolf turned his laptop so I could see it. “Look. The kid has joined teams with these people.” I stared at the screen to see a foundation for victims of all kinds. One of the leaders of the effort, Serenity Hamilton, was the wife of a country singer, Dereck Hamilton. The woman he sang with was Destiny. “They’re into bringing about awareness and helping survivors of human trafficking.”

Survivors… My stomach soured when I thought of how the number of survivors was gruesomely outweighed by the number of slaves who would never be found or rescued, or died before they could escape.

As if reading my grim thoughts, Wolf nonchalantly set his curser on the donation button then sat back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. “Someone has been brilliant with his investments and possibly has cash to spare.” Fake yawn…

I could feel my smirk form. I knew where my lover was headed with his not-so-subtle hint about my money.

Ignoring me staring at him, Wolf asked, “Maybe we could fly to America to see a show?”

I would fly anywhere with him. “I do not listen to country music.”

After a dismissive shrug, Wolf stood then walked toward the bedroom while slowly removing his shirt, his dark, shiny hair dancing on his back. “Maybe you should start. I would do anything for a live country concert.”

Staring at the jeans clothing the best ass in the whole world, I licked my teeth, suddenly a fan of American music I couldn’t care less for. “Meh.”

One-point-five seconds later, I followed that half-naked body then ravaged my love.

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The concert wasn’t to start for hours, but Wolf was able to get a stadium security guard to tell us when a certain tour bus was due to arrive. So, behind the venue, in the back parking lot with empty semi-trucks that had been full of a broken-down stage, we stood on the sidewalk. If I was going to give a substantial donation, I wanted to know to whom.

Sounding somewhat impressed, Wolf quietly told me, “We are already on a radar.”

“Whose?” I scanned the parking lot.

“Not sure.”

When I followed Wolf’s line of sight, I caught a glimpse of two large statured men who had to be at least six-foot-seven each. One was black, the other white. Both were very still and not hiding the fact that they didn’t appreciate our presence. No one else was in the isolated parking lot, so, in Yury style, I lifted my chin at them, not appreciating their attempt to intimidate me or my love.

Wolf mumbled, “Jorien, knock it off.”