Chapter 202

..."Something else we need to talk about – a delicate matter, I guess you could say."

Art let out a chuckle. "'Delicate?'" he questioned. "More delicate than what we've just discussed?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid so."

"So?" Art said, raising an eyebrow.

Jeff couldn't decide how to start. After a moment of silence, Art grinned at him, realizing that Jeff was having difficulty initiating the conversation. "So, the guy who somehow propelled a steel ball up a mountain and destroyed a rock so spectacularly, the guy who easily handles having fourteen wives, is suddenly having problems talking to a brother Alpha. Come on, Jeff. Whatever it is, it can't be that bad."

"You should marry Hope," Jeff blurted.

"What..." Art started.

"You saved her from being a sex slave, saved her life. You should take her for your wife. She's intelligent as hell; she's beautiful, and besides that, I think she has feelings for you. You shouldn't let her get away."

Art just sat staring at Jeff. "But ... I thought..."

Jeff suspected that Art was going to say something about Hope becoming Jeff's wife, and the Prime wanted to make sure that Art didn't think he was Hope's second choice, somehow. "I think she loves you, or at least would if you gave her the chance. You two have done a great job with the two sketches she's finished. The General is currently surveilling the diplomat, as I've already told you. Sooner or later this guy is going to screw up and give us an opening to take him out, and do it in a manner that won't throw suspicion on black ops. The General already has some ideas about that, and so do I. In the meantime, I think you should make time to be around Hope on a more ... personal basis.

"Talk to your wives about her. I'll bet they'll be behind the marriage one hundred percent. There's something about her that ... I don't know. I just think you'll be pleased if you decide to make her your wife."

"But I thought..."

"Thought what?" Jeff interrupted, not allowing the young Alpha the opportunity to voice the idea of Jeff intending to marry Hope. "I've believed for some time now that the two of you were perfect for each other..."

"She was afraid of me to start with," Art quietly responded.

" ... Was afraid of anyone who was male, or at least, she didn't want to be around any male. Who could blame her? But she does fine with you two being alone when you're working on a sketch. I'm telling you, I've seen the way she looks at you. Ask her to do something with you – with the three of you, if you like. Have a private dinner, or supper as we call it, in your suite. Or have a small swimming party, just the four of you. Take her and your wives up here, if you want," the Prime said, motioning with his hands to their surroundings.

"Tell Bobby and Sandra that you're thinking about Hope for another wife. Bet you they'll be all for it in a heartbeat."

"Jeff, are you sure you don't..."

But before Art could complete the sentence, Jeff interrupted again. "What do I have to do with it? Oh, I'm legally responsible for her until she's eighteen, but we both know that judge will never question anything about Hope. He was tickled to death to keep her out of the system. All you have to worry about is how the two of you feel about each other, and how your wives feel about Hope as another wife."

Art was a sharp guy and realized that Jeff had redirected the conversation each time he (Art) had drawn close to commenting that Hope might become another wife for the Prime.

"But we knew you had given her a place to live. You went and got her, pulled some strings to get her out of Georgia..."

"We've just given her a place to live," Jeff insisted, stressing the word. The women, yours included, have done more to make her feel at ease – at home, if you will – than I ever have. Now it's time for you to spend some time with her. I'll bet she will jump at the chance to be with you. Just remember to go slow. Her reaction to things might not be logical at times. That part, that caution, comes from Helen. Since your wives are nurses, they will probably understand a lot about that. Talk to them about Hope."

Art sat quietly for a moment. Realizing that Art was holding something back, Jeff decided to be blunt, "So, what are you not telling me?"

Art picked up a small rock and tossed it against a nearby boulder, obviously thinking. Just as Jeff started to speak, Art began again, "Bobby and Sandra have been bugging me about going after Hope. They say she'll make me a fine wife. I kept telling them that you would..."

"No. I feel almost like ... her father. I love her, but I can't see myself taking her to bed." He made a negative gesture with his hand before going quickly on, "Oh, she's definitely wife material, but not my wife. Listen to your women."

"Shit, I thought she was going to be yours ... Okay. I'll think about it. And yeah, I do have feelings for her."

"Good. Now let's change the subject a bit. Are there any more of the slavers that you remember that you think a sketch would help with?"

Art shrugged. "Not really, I did see a few other people that appeared to be something other than just lowlife muscle, but I have no idea what their function is in the organization."

"No matter. The sketches might still help either the General's or the FBI's investigation – maybe both. You never can tell. If you can remember enough about them, why not work with Hope to come up with what sketches you can? While you're doing it, you could invite her to go snowmobiling with you and your wives, or have your wives come in during one of the sketching sessions and ask Hope to go with you for an outing. I would suggest asking her to go as soon as a sketch is done, before she has time to think about it and back out."

There was a moment of silence as the men seem to study each other, then, "Jeff, are you sure about this?"

"Why wouldn't I be sure?" the Prime quickly responded. "She's had a shitty last couple of years in her life. Time for those nightmares of hers to be replaced by dreams of her Alpha. And you're that Alpha. I'm dead certain she's interested in you."

"Maybe," Art reluctantly agreed.

"Something else, maybe even a little more delicate than what we've just discussed. If things work out for you ... Well, Hope was repeatedly raped, and Little One, uh, can ... make her whole again, if she wants. Uh..."

Art just looked at Jeff as he struggled with the sentence. "Whole again? Do you mean..."

"Yeah, Little One can make her the way she was before ... Put her hymen back, even. If that's what she wants. Might have your wives, uh, very diplomatically ask her if she wants that. Little One has healed her, so there's nothing physically wrong with her, but having her hymen back might be something that would appeal to her. Maybe not, but it's a thought. It can happen if she wants it to."

"Jeff, we're kinda jumping the gun here..."

"No, we're not," the Prime insisted. "You sit down in that room with her, do your thing to produce the next sketch, then ask her to go riding with you. You and your wives bring her up here, sit and talk. Lean over and gently kiss her. Let nature take its course. Hey, you know what to do. I guarantee she'll respond to you. But before you get married, have your wives ask her if she wants her hymen back. Trust me, virgins terrify me, and I've only had two in my life. But unless I miss my guess, Hope needs to feel ... virginal again. Somehow, she needs to put the rapes behind her. I think she needs to get married, give her husband her virginity, maybe – factual virginity or not."

"I don't know what to say, Jeff. I really thought that she..."

But again, Jeff spoke up before Art could complete his sentence. "Forget that. The two of you are made for each other. I suggest you go talk to your women."

The men rode around for the next hour or so. Art, obviously stalling, wanted to try several new areas before Jeff finally talked him into going back to the Retreat.

When they finished cleaning the snowmobiles, and had parked them, Jeff turned to Art. "One more thing. If you are going with us to take out the diplomat and his guard..."

Art interrupted with, "You know I am."

" ... then you need to go with Kayla in the morning. I'll talk to the Sergeant and have him teach you the basics of our helmet functions as well as getting you some time on the range with the pulse rifle. You have to understand though, that chances are you will only be an observer on the mission – particularly if my idea works out. But I won't take you with us unless you're up to speed on, at least, the helmet's minimum functions, and you can defend yourself with the rifle if need be."

Art grinned back at the Prime. "I need to be doing something, anyway. Sure beats sitting on my ass worrying."

"I'll tell the Sergeant to use Kayla to help teach you. You'll need a partner to practice using the radio frequencies, anyway. She's still working through the more advanced usages of the helmet, so a refresher on the basics won't hurt her. Ever shot a rifle?"

"Basic familiarization course with the FBI, plus I've hunted some with a 30.06."

"Good start. Hopefully, we won't have to use the pulse rifles, or any firearm, as far as that's concerned, but we'll go prepared for the worst. Never hurts. Understand though, Art, if things go the way I hope, all you'll get to do is watch. I would love to go in and blow this guy away, but he's a diplomat. His death needs to look like an accident. An accident that no one else can be linked to – no one."

"Just let me be there. Let me see that asshole die. I want to be able to tell Hope that I saw him croak. That's all I ask."

Jeff slapped his Alpha on the back. "Go talk to your wives. They need to be up to speed on the thing with Hope."

Diana walked in the entrance of Hope's personal area in the new school. "May I come in?"

"My gosh. Sure Diana."

"I brought us a couple of cokes. Want one?" the Queen asked as she handed a soft drink to the girl.

"Sure, thanks," Hope answered, worrying that she had done something wrong. Although Diana had her own study area and was taking college courses, she had never before come to visit in Hope's personal area.

"May I sit?" the Queen asked as Hope unscrewed the top off her drink.

Startled that Diana would bother to ask, Hope motioned to the extra chair, the teenager's worry cycling up a notch at the beautiful woman's formality. "Certainly." Then as Diana sat, "Uh, what ... can I do for you?"

Diana reached over and put her hand on top of Hope's for a second. "First of all, you can relax. It's me that's a little uptight, and I'm obviously projecting it."

That comment did little to calm the teenager's nerves.

"Crap," Diana mumbled barely audibly, as she absently opened her drink and put it on the table. Standing, she pushed the comfortable chair closer to Hope's, sat, then leaned forward to take the girl's hand in hers for a moment. "I'm doing this all wrong, because ... well, because I don't know how to do it right," she finished in a rush. She couldn't help but let out a soft sigh. "Look. First off, you have done absolutely nothing wrong. There is nothing wrong. There's just something that I need to discuss with you and I don't ... know where to start, let alone know how."

Amazing both of them, Hope managed a small giggle. "Well, as they say, why not just start from the beginning?"

The two looked at each other for an instant, then both smiled.

"Oh, delicacy be dammed," the Queen said. "There's no other way but to say it. You need to marry Art. You'll be sixteen in a few days. Heck, Paulette just turned fifteen. She's now married to Jeremy and we both heard what a wonderful time the three of them had last night, and it's obvious they're head over heels in love with each other."

"Marry?" Hope whispered. Of all the things she had expected Diana might say, this was certainly not one of them.

But Diana went charging on. "Certainly. I think the two of you have feelings for each other. I suspect Art would have done something already except for..."

" ... my background," Hope interjected.

"Uummm, yes, but I think I mean it in an entirely different way than you do, at least judging by the tone of your voice. I think he's holding back because..."

But Hope went on, not listening to Diana. "He wouldn't want me. No man would who knew how many men I've fucked," Hope said, her voice fragile.

But Diana was shaking her head. "Darnit, Baby, comments like that are why I was nervous about starting this conversation. To begin with, those men raped you. You didn't want to be there, did you?"

"Of course not."

"Did you want to fuck them?"

"No. I hated it, but I had to or my ... father," she said, fairly spitting out the word, "would beat me if I didn't."

"So, we've established that you didn't 'fuck' any of them. You were raped. That needs to be a settled thing, Missy. I don't want to hear you deriding yourself because of what those pigs made you do. All right?"

"Yes, Ma'am." But they both knew it was far from over.

The Queen retrieved her drink, took a sip and returned it to the table beside Hope's, reached over and pulled the girl to her, encircling the teenager in her arms, the woman rubbing the girl's back. Hope, although silently crying herself, was starting to feel Diana's tears dropping onto her neck.