You Don't Own Me(36)

‘Lick it off,’ he says sternly.

‘Thought you’d never ask,’ I say, and resting on my palms, extend my tongue to the maximum and lick him, making it wet and sloppy, the way an overeager hound would.

He jerks back. ‘Are you looking for trouble?’

‘Take your pants off and I’ll tell you what I’m looking for,’ I counter.

He puts the tray on the floor and, catching me by the shoulders, rolls me onto my back. I look into his eyes. ‘I have to freaking spell everything out to you, but damn you’re still my dream man,’ I tell him, and clawing my fingers into his hair, I pull his sweet mouth down to mine.



Later that morning, Zane takes me to the ruins of the Coliseum. Of the three concentric ovals only a third of the original stone exterior remains and it is the inner oval that is most intact. The sheer immensity of the structure gives me the unsettling feeling that these ruins were the dwellings of beings much larger than me.

Standing on the moss-covered bricks at ground level I look up at the huge stone stadium, and for a second I get the feeling for what it must have been like to stand in the stadium during ancient times. To hear thousands of people baying for your death.

‘Ten years to build, using sixty thousand Jewish slaves with eighty entrances, thirty-six traps doors, accommodating fifty-thousand spectators for festivals that lasted up to one hundred days. During which half-a-million people were slaughtered and a million animals were brutally killed. It is one of the greatest and most unashamed celebrations of human violence. I guess we were all more honest in those days,’ Zane says.

‘Humanity has come a long way since then,’ I tell him quietly.

He sits on the stone seat. ‘Don’t you see the sheer ferocity that runs your world?’

I shake my head. ‘No. I see it run by law and order, by democratic governments.’

He sighs. ‘Your government is the biggest example of naked ferocity.’

‘What?’ I say with a laugh.

‘In fact, I’d go so far as to say there is no difference between what your government does and what I do.’

I snort contemptuously. ‘That’s ridiculous.’

‘Why is it ridiculous?’ he queries. His eyes are watchful and I realize that he is very serious about what he is saying. As bizarre as it sounds to me he actually believes what he is telling me.

‘OK,’ I say slowly and go to sit next to him. ‘Correct me if I am wrong, but agents of state don’t lie, extort money, murder rivals, train and initiate uniform enforcers, constantly go to war with their neighbors to protect their borders, and enforce protection rackets. I could go on …’

His mouth twists into a smile. Sexy or Cruel? Maybe both. The arrogant tilt to his chin tells me I have walked directly into his trap.

‘I hate to break it to you, my innocent little fish,’ he says, his voice a sly caress, ‘but governments routinely undertake all those activities you mentioned and more. Governments do protect their borders, they lie all the time, and they extort money through taxes. Try not paying your taxes and see how ferocious your government really is. What are extrajudicial killings and kill lists, but the state assassinating its enemies and rivals? Just as I have enforcers they have their police and army to implement their policies. They provide their citizens protection for reasons I maintain law and order on my turf. The only real difference between them and me is my borders are smaller and more fluid.’

I frown. ‘It’s not the same,’ I insist, but as always when he speaks, he shows another side to an argument that I have never even considered might exist.

‘There is none so blind as she who will not see,’ he says, and taking my hand pulls me to my feet.

He takes me to one of the trap doors through which the slaves and animals that were held underground were unleashed into the arena and I feel a chill in my body. I turn towards him.

‘Even if the whole world is violent. Even if the very government we look upon as our protectors is violent, I never want to use that as a justification for my own violence.’

He gazes at me with unreadable eyes.



We have lunch at a sidewalk café and I order exactly what I had the night before. Pasta with cheese and pepper. There are no truffle shavings on it, but it is still incredibly good. Zane has the same.

Afterwards, we go to the Borghese Park and walk in the fallen leaves. It is very beautiful with the changing colors of fall. I look up at Zane and can hardly believe that this is my life. This is the kind of dreamy fantasy existence I expect to find in my favorite books.

We eat gelato, soft Italian ice cream, in the fresh air. Then the highlight of our trip: Zane has arranged a private tour for us of the Sistine Chapel.