NEW EMOTIONS

NEW EMOTIONS
“He came into my room the night after my mum went missing.”
The world outside was silent, drenched in the pale gray of a coming dawn. 
Rain from the night before still clung to the glass panes, leaving streaks that caught the early light.
Inside the luxurious room filled with feminine richness and the afterglow of sex, warmth lingered, born of shared breath and tangled limbs.
Cash lay with his head on Isabel’s thighs, his hair falling over his forehead. Her fingers traced slow, soothing paths through the dark strands, untangling them absently. The rhythm calmed him, and he purred with every stroke.
He sighed, the sound was deep and tired, weighted with memories that still haunted him.
“Cash, you can talk to me,” Isabel said softly.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The clock ticked steadily, sealing them in this intimate stillness.
Then, without lifting his head, Cash murmured, “He was the one who taught me pleasure first. It was wrong, but… I liked it.”
Isabel’s hand stilled. Her eyes drifted down to his face, half-shadowed by the weak morning light.
“Who? Carl?” she asked quietly.
“Cage,” he spat, the name thick with disgust. “I didn’t know what he did was wrong until Carl sent me abroad to boarding school so I’d be far away from him.” His gaze went distant. “When I was old enough to understand what my brother had done to me, I felt filthy.”
He swallowed hard before continuing. “I got sick and had to come back home. And Cage resumed what everyone thought he’d stopped. He said he loved me, showered me with gifts, scared my friends away, and warned any girl I liked to stay clear.
“The first night I brought a girl home, we woke up to Cage pointing our father’s pistol at us. Her name was Diana.” He smiled softly “I can still remember the fear on her face. She fled and never came back. That was when Carl realized Cage had become something else.”
“What did Carl do to stop him?” Isabel asked.
“He didn’t,” Cash said bitterly. “Guess they had this pact of keeping each other’s secrets.”
He shifted, burying his face against her thighs. Isabel smiled faintly and continued running her fingers through his hair.
“I got depressed,” he went on quietly. “I kept getting into trouble. Cage would fix it before it got to Carl, but to keep him quiet, I had to do him favors. He’d say we’d move far away, live together forever, and be happy together. Every gift came with a price and I… I hated him.”
"He used to make me wear these... these things. I hated them. He he made me hate the color blue."
"What kind of things?"
"Cosplay" Cash shrugged "Sometimes I was his prostitute, something I was his mistress or his office affair. I'd wear jockstraps for him, lingeries, dresses, anything he wanted me to wear."
Isabel’s chest tightened. “Did he ever get violent?”
“Yes. After I locked him out.” Cash gave a hollow smile. “I thought he’d finally leave me alone. But one night, I woke up… and he was there. He had a key.”
“That was awful,” she whispered.
“It was,” he said in a small voice. “Later, when Carl was out of town, Cage hit me and dragged me into his room. He made me wear a collar and dance for him naked, before he fucked me. And then…” He trailed off, swallowing hard. “I knew I couldn’t turn him down or stop Cage. Carl always turned a blind eye.”
“What did you do?” Isabel asked softly.
“One day, I stole Carl’s money, one of his cars, packed my things, and left.”
“How did they take it?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Carl sent investigators, but I was always getting into trouble, so I wasn’t hard to find. Still, I never went back home. I only reached out when I needed something fixed.” He drew a breath. “Then I met Virginia. We dated, broke up. And then… I got a message from a stranger.”
“What message?”
“My mother had left something for me before she died; a letter, to be delivered when I turned twenty-two.” His jaw tightened. “Before she went missing, I remember when two men came to the house. Suits and no smiles. I remember watching from the stairs where Carl sat reading some papers they gave him. Then he crushed them in his hands. I’d never seen him that angry.”
“Do you know what was on them?” Isabel asked, leaning closer.
“No. But it had to do with her.” His voice cracked. “She’d been acting strange. Making calls late at night, whispering. She was hiding things, and it was obvious she was nervous around Carl. I think she knew her life was in danger. And I think she found out something terrible about him.”
Isabel cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing his stubble. “You think she was planning to leave?”
“I know she was. The night she went missing, she came home early, flustered. She said she needed to take me to see my pediatrician. Carl was waiting and when she said it in front of him she was trying to sound calm, but she was shaking. He refused, and told her no one was going anywhere.”
He gave a dry laugh. “That was the first time I saw her defy him.”
Isabel could picture it; the young boy on the stairs, his world fracturing. “And after that?”
“They fought madly, broke stuff. She screamed something about Carl paying for his evil, about leaving with me and telling everyone who he really was behind closed doors. Then she went quiet and that was the last time I ever heard her voice.” His fingers clenched the sheets. “She never came to tuck me in bed. I waited until midnight. She never came.”
He blinked slowly, the memory burning behind his eyes.
“I can’t even remember her face anymore,” he murmured, ashamed. “It’s all blurred, it’s just… just dark hair and the smell of her perfume.”
Isabel bent forward and kissed his temple. “Hey, you were a child. You lost her too soon. You’re not supposed to remember everything.”
“Maybe,” he said softly. “But I wish I did. Sometimes I wonder what really happened to her. Carl said she died sick, I don’t believe him.”
“You think he…” she began carefully.
“Maybe,” Cash whispered.
Silence settled between them like fog. Outside, a bird called once, distant and lonely.
Isabel’s hand moved to his chest, feeling the steady beat beneath her palm. “You’ve carried that a long time.”
“Yeah.” His fingers brushed her thigh, tracing idle patterns. “I used to dream of her every night. Then the dreams stopped. Guess that’s when I started to forget her.”
She shifted, pulling him upright beside her. The sheet slid down, revealing the curve of her bare shoulder as dawn crept in. “Look at you still talking about her,” she said softly. “You haven’t forgotten her Cash. She’s still alive in your heart. Milicent Graves is still alive.”
Cash looked at her then, really looked, and something in his eyes flickered to life.
“Why do you care so much?” he asked quietly. “About me, about all this?”
“Because someone has to,” she said, meeting his gaze. “And because I see you, Cash. The sad, lonely boy, not just the brat you pretend to be.”
He gave a faint, wet smile. “And what am I then?”
“Someone still searching for answers… and learning how to trust.”
He laughed shakily. “You sound like my therapist.”
“I’m cheaper,” she teased, brushing his lashes with her thumb. “And better looking.”
He laughed, the tension finally breaking. Taking her hand, he pressed it to his lips.
“I do trust you, Isabel,” he said quietly. “More than I thought I ever could.”
Her eyes softened, reflecting the golden hue of dawn. “Then trust that I’ll be here. For as long as you’ll let me.”
He leaned in and kissed her, slow and deliberate, needing nothing but closeness. Her fingers curled in his hair, drawing him closer, their breaths mingling. For a while, there was only warmth, heartbeat, and silence.
When they parted, the room felt lighter.
“You are my sweet puppy,” Isabel murmured with a smile.
He nodded. “Always at your command.” He kissed her again, deeper this time, his hand sliding to the back of her neck. She melted against him, caressing his chest. The kiss was unhurried but full of everything unspoken.
When they finally broke apart, dawn was arriving, soft sunlight spilling over the sheets. Isabel brushed her thumb over his lip.
“We should rest,” she murmured.
“Yeah,” he said without moving. “Before daylight ruins this moment.”
She smiled faintly. “Before reality knocks and reminds us we aren’t supposed to be doing this. Fucking.”
He chuckled, settling back down with his head on her thighs. She resumed stroking his hair, slower now, hypnotic.
“You’re dangerous, Isabel,” he murmured.
“Why?”
“Because you make me want to stay.”
What Cash didn’t realize was, he’d told this woman things he shouldn’t have.
Isabel said nothing. Her fingers moved through his hair again, gentler now. Outside, the city began to stir, but inside, time remained still.
Cash’s breathing evened out as he drifted into sleep, the weight of his confession eased, if only for a moment.
Isabel watched him, thoughtful. She wasn’t naive; she wouldn’t let his story soften her. He was still her pawn—for now.
But as she gazed down at him, head resting in her lap, hand loose against her thigh, she found she didn’t care about the danger. Not this morning.
She leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Sleep,” she whispered. “I’ve got you.”