Chapter 5 - The Ashes of Hope

As desolation overwhelmed him, Robert fought back. He knew if he allowed it to take over, he'd climb in his bed and not get out for another three weeks, or at least until his dad threw him out of the house in disgust. He forced himself to think what he should do next. He'd just showered, so – getting dressed, that was the next step. He pulled clean briefs out of his drawer then went to the closet for jeans and a t-shirt. It was harder than he thought it would be.

As he looked through the hanging t-shirts, each one told a story as he slid it across the rod. The shirt he was wearing when he took her out to eat the first time, the one he wore when they went to the club, the one that was her favorite and she always commented on it when he wore it. He slid the hangers past him with more force as he rejected each one, getting angrier by the second. The one he wore the first time he took her to the movies, the black one he'd been wearing the night he'd been kidnapped. When he got to the one he wore the last day they were in Dover, he couldn't fucking take it anymore and quit.

He saw a pile of clothes at the bottom of his closet, the ones that had littered the floor of his bedroom over the last few weeks, and started pawing through them thinking maybe he'd find something that wasn't a fucking reminder of her.

As he rifled through the pile, he uncovered a pale blue rucksack. What the fuck was this still doing in his house, he wondered angrily, yanking it out. She must have left it in there and it got buried under all the clothes. He knew it would be empty even before he unzipped the compartments and looked through it. She would've taken the contents with her when she went to Chicago. They belonged to her after all, even if he'd been the one to ask the bastard for all of it.

---Then---

As soon as they walked into his bedroom, Robert saw the pale blue rucksack on his bed. He'd been so overwhelmed with everything that'd been happening since the bastard had given it to Georgie, he hadn't even had a chance to wonder what was in it. He sat on the bed and unzipped the main compartment.

Georgie sat down facing him, asking, "What's that?" He looked at her suddenly, pushing his hair out of his eyes. Did she not remember bringing it home? She looked back at him expectantly.

"Uh – ," he said, looking down as he tried to decide if he should ask if she remembered – and then he saw what was inside it.

He stuck his hand in and pulled out a handful of some of the documents he'd last seen on the round table when he was with the bastard. He laid them on the bed and then reached in and grabbed another handful of papers.

He could scarcely believe what he was seeing. It looked like everything he'd seen on that table was in the rucksack. He knew it had been part of the bargain, but it still felt like a miracle he had it. He suddenly became excited. This was Georgie's future, everything she'd need to build a new life. Before he realized it was happening, she had picked up her American passport and started opening it.

"Georgie!" he said suddenly, in an attempt to stop her, afraid what her reaction might be, but it was too late. She saw the small picture of herself and became very still.

"I'm sorry," he said gently. The silence stretched as she ran her finger over the picture.

"It's okay," she quietly, after a minute, then looked up at him. "How did you get my passport?"

"He gave it to me." She looked shocked.

"He wouldn't do that," she said with certainty.

"It was part of the bargain," he said quietly.

"Oh." She didn't say anything else while she looked at her picture again.

"There's a British passport here too," he said, shuffling through the papers and handing it to her. "You have citizenship in the United States and England!" he said excitedly. "D'you know what that means? You can choose where you want to live!"

"But I want to live with you, Robert!" she cried suddenly, looking up at him with alarm.

"I know. I want to live with you too," he said gently, rubbing her arm. "We'll be together, but you can choose where you want us to live. We can live here or the States."

"Oh," she said, relaxing.

She opened the British passport and looked at the picture inside for a few moments before she said quietly, "This is the picture we didn't use. I didn't like it. I didn't like my braces to show. It's weird it got in here."

He knew it had to hurt her to see the pictures taken just before she'd lost her freedom. It had almost killed him when he'd seen them, to see her so young, her sweet face so happy and full of life. He rifled through the papers.

"Here's your birth certificate," he said, handing it to her, and she put down the passport so she could study it.

"That's not my birthday," she said, looking confused.

"I wondered about that," he said quietly. Then, after a hesitation he asked, "When were you born?" When she told him her birth date, he was relieved. She'd be eighteen in two and a half months. It made him uncomfortable she was still underage, but two and a half months wasn't too bad.

"This is just for the official stuff, alright? We'll always celebrate your real birthday."

"Oh – okay," she said quietly, looking down at the birth certificate.

"Robert?" she said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"I don't know how old I am," she said, looking up at him embarrassed.

"You're seventeen," he said gently, hoping it wasn't too big of a blow.

"Oh," she whispered, blinking back tears.

"I'm sorry, Georgie," he said, pushing the papers out of the way so he could sit next to her, pulling her to him. She held onto him tightly while she cried quietly into his chest for a minute.

"Is it hard to hear that?" he asked when she'd recovered.

"A little," she said, laying her cheek on his shoulder. "Actually – I was afraid I might be older – like you."

"I understand," he said, stroking her hair. "I'll tell you what. When it's your birthday, we'll celebrate all the birthdays you missed, all at the same time. We'll do something special, alright?" She pulled away from him, wiping her eyes with her fingers.

"That would be wonderful, Robert. I'd like that," she said smiling shyly.

"I'm sorry your birthday is different on your documents. I was afraid it might be harder for you to live with me if you weren't eighteen already."

"I know, it's because I'm a minor," she said, surprising him she knew about that.

"I think your name is really pretty, Georgie, not terrible," he said, suddenly remembering he'd wanted to tell her. She shook her head.

"No, Frankie was the one with the pretty name, not me. Francesca Lucia Russo," she finished quietly.

"That's a pretty name too, but I think Georgia Ann Russo is prettier." She smiled at him.

"You have the same middle name as your mum, see?" he said, pointing it out.

"I forgot about that," she said quietly, tracing her mum's name with her finger.

She put down the birth certificate and saw the credit card. She knew what it was because she whispered, "Credit card," when she picked it up. She saw her name on it and looked confused again.

"You've got money, Georgie. You've got enough money to go to university and pay for the things you need until you're working."

"But I thought –. Where did the money come from?" she asked, still looking confused.

"I told you, it was part of the bargain. I asked him for all of this."

"You asked him for this?" she asked with surprise, her eyes wide.

"Yeah, I knew if I got to take you home with me, you'd need all these things."

"I can't believe you did that for me," she said quietly, blinking back tears.

"Georgie, I love you. I wanted you to be able to have a new life, y'know? A better life," he said gently, taking her hand.

"It's just so –." She couldn't continue as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Hey, come here," he said gently, pulling her to him again. He stroked her hair and shushed her while she cried on his shoulder. After a few minutes, she recovered and pulled away.

"Thank you for doing that for me. I love you so much, Robert," she said, wiping her eyes.

"Well, your welcome – and I love you more," he said smiling.

---Now---

She had everything she needed to make a new life alright, Robert thought harshly. Everything he'd thought of, that he'd asked the bastard for, that he'd been willing to do anything to obtain, no matter how vile or disgusting it was. And she'd fucking taken it and made a new life without him, leaving him broken.

He looked at the rucksack in his hands. What he wouldn't give for it to be the bastard there instead, and he was suddenly filled with a murderous rage. He threw the rucksack as hard as he could and it hit the wall in a very unsatisfactory manner before it fell to the floor. He grabbed a pair of jeans and a random t-shirt out of the closet, no longer noticing which one it was, and quickly dressed. Then he took the rucksack and went downstairs.

He walked out the back door, across the back garden to the small shed his dad used to store the lawnmower and other garden equipment. He poked around until he found what he needed. Within a few minutes, he had the rucksack in a small metal bin outside the shed, doused with charcoal lighter fluid. He struck a match and threw it in, watching the flames shoot up a good two feet when he did it. Now that was satisfying. He watched the rucksack blacken as it burned, imagining it was the bastard's skin that was roasting.

After a few minutes, he heard his mum call out in a worried voice, "Robbie? What are you doing?"

"I'm burning some rubbish, mum!" he shouted without turning around, watching the flames.

"Oh – alright," she called out hesitantly, still sounding worried.

As he watched the rucksack crumble in on itself and burn, he thought about that day. It was their very first day home, and he'd been filled with so much hope for their future together. He didn't notice the dark clouds looming on the horizon, even though they were right there in front of him.

---Then---

Robert looked in the rucksack to make sure he'd emptied it and spied something at the bottom. He reached in and pulled out a clear plastic bag filled with six identical small pink and white cardboard boxes. It was clear from the labeling it was medication. Before he could think what it might be, Georgie said loudly, "My birth control pills!"

She reached out, taking the bag from him and they both looked at the contents in silence for a moment. At the exact moment Robert suddenly felt sick to his stomach, Georgie looked up at him with horror, saying faintly, "I haven't taken my pills in days, Robert!"

It took him a moment to recover before he swallowed and said quickly, "Don't worry about that right now. We can use condoms until –." He couldn't finish the sentence because another horrifying thought came into his head.

"Until what?" Georgie prodded, interrupting his racing thoughts.

"We'll just use them until it's – safe for us to go without," he finished, stumbling over the word.

"Oh, okay," she said, looking at the bag again. "Should I take one tonight or should I not wait and –."

"Tonight!" he said sharply, interrupting her. "Look, was there any time you forgot to take your pills at all during the last days we were there?" he asked quickly. She looked up at him, suddenly worried.

"I'm not sure," she said faintly.

"Think, Georgie! This is important!" he said loudly, nearly shouting and making her jump.

"Um," she said, looking at him nervously, blinking hard. He realized he'd scared her and made an effort to calm down.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout at you," he said more quietly. "Let's think about the days one at a time, alright?" She nodded with him, still blinking hard.

"The night before we were in that – that room, did you take one then?" That would've been the night of Christmas day.

"Yes, I'm certain I took it then," she said firmly, nodding her head.

"Right. Now the next night, that was the night we – found out – I was – leaving," he trailed off at the end because he already knew the answer. That was the night they'd lain on the floor of the sitting room, completely grief stricken from the news.

"No, Robert," she said sadly. "But I took one the next morning, when I brushed my teeth." He remembered finding her getting ready to brush her teeth. Suddenly, her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes went wide.

"Robert, we had sex that night!" she said in a hushed voice.

Bloody hell, she was right. What the hell had he been thinking? How could he have been so thick to allow that to happen? If he'd just thought about it for two fucking seconds, he would've known she hadn't taken one the night before.

"But I took another pill that night. Do you think it's alright?"

"What about the night after that," he said insistently. "The last night we were there. Did you take a pill that night?"

"Um, I – think so?" she said hesitantly.

"Georgie! Think!" he shouted, completely losing his cool.

"I don't remember! It was a really bad night!" she cried, tears welling up in her eyes. That was a pretty fucking horrible night, he thought bitterly, remembering what she'd told him.

"Robert, I can't be pregnant! I don't want to be pregnant!" she cried desperately, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I'm too young! I'm only seventeen years old!" He could tell she was starting to panic. He took her hand and put his other hand on her cheek while he looked in her eyes.

"Listen to me," he said firmly, attempting to calm her down. "I don't want you to worry about it, alright?" She nodded, looking at him intently, focusing on his words.

"We'll get a pregnancy test, alright? You'll take the test, and when we know whether you are or not, we'll sort it out then. There's no point worrying about it now when we don't know anything yet, yeah?" She nodded again as she looked intently in his eyes, but the tears continued to roll down her cheeks. He pulled her to him for a hug and she sobbed into his chest for a minute.

"Don't cry, alright? You're not to worry about it now, yeah?" he said gently.

"Alright, Robert," she said quietly, and pulled away from him, wiping the tears as they came with her fingers. As she looked at him, he could see how hard she was trying to be brave for him, and he was suddenly filled with a profound sadness.

He immediately pushed the feeling down. He had to be strong – strong enough for both of them. Because it wasn't just the possibility she might be pregnant that had him feeling sick to his stomach with worry, it was the possibility she might have a sexually transmitted disease. The last night they'd been in the flat, she'd told him she'd been raped by multiple men. Was a condom used every single time? Not bloody likely, he thought bitterly. All it took was one time without for her to catch something. And if she had an STD, that meant he did too. There was no way he would've escaped it after a month of unprotected sex with her.

There was no other choice, they were both going to have to get tested – and that was a huge problem. How on earth was he going to tell her she might have a disease, and that she might've passed it on to him? He knew it would kill her to think she might be responsible for harming him. She was in no way ready to deal with something like that right now. She was far too fragile.

One crisis at a time, he thought, taking a deep breath. They'd deal with the pregnancy issue first. He'd make sure they used condoms so they were safe, and that would buy him some time, time for her to recover from what she'd been through and get used to her new life. When she was strong enough, he'd bring it up and they'd get tested.

"Hey," he said suddenly. "Why don't we take the papers down to show my dad, yeah?" It was the ideal distraction for both of them.

---Now---

When the rucksack was reduced to a smoldering mass, Robert got a watering can from the shed and filled it. He soaked what was left in the bin and dumped it on the grass. He put everything away and then threw the remains of the rucksack in the waste bin by the side of the house.

It wasn't until that moment he realized he was shivering and his teeth were chattering. It was April, still too early to be outside without a jacket, and he was only wearing a t-shirt and nothing on his feet. How had he not noticed, he wasn't dressed properly? It disturbed him that he'd been so unaware. He needed to get a grip, he thought as he went in the house. The last thing he needed was to be going mental.

****

Poor Robert!  The very first day he had Georgie home things were already starting to get seriously complicated.  So now we're left to wonder, is she pregnant?  Does she have a sexually transmitted disease?  Does he have one too?  Is this what caused them to break up?  You'll have to read on to find out!

Thank you so much for reading this story!  I hope you're enjoying it so far!  And if you are, please show some love with a vote and a comment.  Writing this has been a wonderful experience, but getting support from readers like you has been like the icing on the cake.