Michael Reagan - The Devil's Handshake

“Now, why don’t you tell me your story,” he ordered as he made his way to the sofa in the bedroom by the wall as she gingerly sat down on the bed and continued to stare at him.

To please him, as she would do when with Oleg or his many clients, she told him her story including to her surprise some of the worst bits for the next hour before exhausted from the stress of her day and the realization that the “strange man” who had bought her wasn’t going to rape her, she felt herself falling into a restless sleep.

Watching the beautiful woman-child fall into a half sleep, Thomas knew without a shadow of doubt that this intoxicating young sensual creature of the Turkmenistan Mountains was the first love of his life.

“Such a determination to survive,” he had thought with admiration as he listened to her tell her story and how she became one of Oleg’s women. Keeping his counsel on the fact that she had been just a child of thirteen at the time had revolted him. He had known many women over the years in Russia who used prostitution to feed and support their families. He never judged them. Indeed he often enjoyed their company, this though was completely different.

“She was a baby!” he bitterly thought. As far Thomas was concerned, the fault lay with her father. He had seen many things on his travels, but the selling your own daughter to clear your debts. It had turned his stomach as she told him just as it was still doing now.

He made a decision. He would be her guardian no matter what destiny she wanted to choose for herself.

Seeing she was asleep, he got up from the sofa. He lifted up the blanket that had been discarded earlier and so as not to disturb her, as he could see the emotional exhaustion on her face, covered her with it.

He took one last look at her sleeping form. He smiled at her. Then he walked out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

The next morning, as she woke to get her bearings like she always did where or whoever’s bed she was in for the night when on duty for Oleg, the beautiful teenager found a red Nike tracksuit, panties, a white t-shirt and some trainers at the bottom of the bed.

Getting up, Nara then on tiptoe walked into the bathroom to take a shower, where to her surprise she also found a fully stocked ladies makeup bag from Chanel on the side. Again she asked herself all the while looking at the expensive makeup bag, “Who is this man?”

As the power jets of the walk-in shower hit her body, the water doing its job, she reflected with a clearer understanding that he was certainly strange.

“He had bought me! Although he had touched me, he didn’t take me! Then once I submitted to his will he promptly changed again into the respectful man that I had met with Mama? Questions? Questions?”

Thoughts raced through her mind as the spray continued to hit her body.

Finally ending her shower she asked a respectful question of Allah. “Have you sent me a guardian or the devil’s illusion?”

Finishing her makeup, her hair now tied back, dressed in the tight satin tracksuit with the trainers on, Nara walked out of the bedroom into the lounge of the suite to find her guardian or foe sitting at the main table with his blonde bodyguard.

“Good morning, Gunara, please come and join us,” Thomas offered on seeing her enter the room. He stood up respectfully

Nodding her head dutifully to both men although incredibly nervous, Nara gingerly took up his offer and as she did so, his bodyguard who was with him in Oleg’s office and the restaurant introduced himself.

“My name is Mikhail,” he said offering his hand smiling to her. Taking it, Nara smiled, instantly recognizing his voice as belonging to the person who carried up to this room and tried to protect her privacy in the process.

Nara quickly sat down like a little girl by the side of Thomas opposite Mikhail while he poured her a cup of coffee. She saw him wink in the direction of Mikhail.

“Miss Gurbanmammedowova,” Mikhail said taking his cue to leave with an additional smile.

Quietly, as Nara sipped her coffee Thomas opened his briefcase beside him, pulled out, then put her letter “Giving her permission to leave the country” and her passport that Mikhail had now returned to him after he advised him he was going to give her the decision to choose her destiny, on the table.

Something Mikhail had quickly said in response had pleased him, as he never saw Thomas as “Slave Master.”

“I know Mikhail, I blame that prick Oleg’s presence!” he responded.

“Er iz gevorn far ir di kapore!” Mikhail had muttered while shaking his head in disagreement drinking his coffee with his eyes twinkling. It was a Jewish saying, meaning, “He fell for her hook, line, and sinker!”

“Bugger off, you sod!” Thomas responded laughing understanding his joke.

“I will tell Hanna to stop her search!” Mikhail responded in kind continuing with the joke.

But now as he took in the sight of the beautiful young woman in front him Thomas concluded that his old friend had been correct in spite of her being only just nineteen.

“I am going to release you from my protection,” Thomas said causing her eyes to shoot up with panic. Sensing her fear, Thomas moved quickly to calm her.

“Don’t worry Oleg won’t touch you or your family,” he said, guessing at what the look of terror in her eyes was about. “If you come with me I will expect that you obey by my rules and submit to my needs without question,” Thomas carried on looking into her eyes again using Turkmen tribal law to provide Nara with an anchor despite it not being his intention at all.

He looked at her for a moment to try and gauge her. Then she answered.

“I and my family belong to you T-h-o-m-a-s. I will follow you until you say otherwise,” she answered slowly in English to show her commitment. She was smart enough to recognize that he was offering her a way out of Turkmenistan.

Putting down her coffee cup she picked up his hand lifted it up and kissed it with her lips for the effect to show her acceptance. Her training as a concubine was on display for him.

“Good, now call your mother!” Thomas ordered as he gave her a mobile phone.

“I hope you know what you are doing, old chap!” he told himself as he watched her dial her mother’s number on the mobile having caught her overt but bloody sexy professional attempt to satisfy him with an answer she knew he wanted to hear.

Later as they took off in his plane, something she had never done before, Nara watched the powerful man who now “owned” her despite his words to the contrary as he talked about things she assumed was his business with Mikhail while she pretended to flip through a fashion magazine.

She reflected on the whirlwind events of the last two days then concluded, “He is certainly different to any man I have ever met!”

“Baby, he means what he says, I know it!” her mother had said with tears in her eyes as they stood together in the bedroom absorbing his promise to look after Nara after her still traumatized mother had come to the hotel with some more clothes for her.

“Allah has sent you an angel!” her mother had said with authority.

“I know he has!” Nara had replied.

Knowing her mama was still in shock from the terrible savagery of the yesterday Nara had chosen not to argue with her not even when she had told her that she must not fail him but look after him and bear him children. That was something that was most definitely not going to happen as she had decided at the time as soon as she got Moscow she was going to escape from him and head to Dubai.

However it was only when they had emerged from the bedroom that she started to believe her mother’s assessment.