by Karen Glista
“Four times.”
Makayla’s mouth gaped open. “You didn’t! Four times? Is that even possible?” she screeched, loud enough to wake the dead.
Donja raised a finger to her lips. “Shush!”
“Holy shit!”
Donja gripped Makayla’s arm and they shared a look, lights sparkling in her eyes. “But you know what?” she whispered with a wicked smile, glancing past her to the door as if fearing someone might hear, “four times could never be enough. I want more.”
“You shameless hussy! Weren’t you in pain? Heather told me that first time was a bitch.”
“I won’t lie, it hurt like hell but then…you kinda get past it and then, mmm, you won’t believe how it feels to dive into pools of ecstasy. I’ve heard the word, but until you go there, you just don’t understand, it’s so beautiful,” she paused licking her lips, “not to mention the security and joy of knowing you have his heart,” she mused with half closed eyes.
“You are in love, oh my God, it really happened,” Makayla whispered, the seriousness of her voice, haunting.
Donja took a gasping breath. “Yes,” she whispered, “and I want to fall asleep in his arms every night for an eternity,” she mused, “only to wake every morning and see his face, those eyes, taste him and know he’s mine. Oh girl, it’s done, over, I’m a goner, hopelessly devoted, can’t live without him.”
Makayla mumbled under her breath and then her face quirked up, “I’m jealous!”
“Just go for it!”
“He won’t, I’ve tried. Grrrr!” She gritted her teeth.
“Grab him, I mean literally with your hand and don’t let go no matter what he says. Get him hot enough and he’ll give in, just like Torin did.”
“You bad girl,” she laughed, “I may just try that tonight.”
“You have a date tonight?”
“Yeah, you did know that Gage and I are joining you all for dinner, didn’t you? Your Mom asked us to join you guys. Can you believe it?”
Donja tucked her hair behind her ears. “I did, I just didn’t know she invited Gage, but I’m glad.”
Makayla rumpled her brows. “I was shocked, because she’s been ballistic, screaming, crying, breaking dishes, you wouldn’t believe.”
“Oh yeah I would, but thank the stars she’s had a change of heart.”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Makayla cocked her head, “there’s a man who’s supposed to meet us in about thirty minutes at the library downtown. He has information about the pictures.”
“A half hour?” Donja said scooting from the bed. “Let me get dressed,” she grimaced. “Hmm, I’m a little sore,” she said donning her jeans.
“Well what do you expect, hussy? You can’t even walk straight.”
“Well I lost a bit of blood and he had me drink wine to help replenish, but I am still weak.”
“I was referring to four times in the sack, you hussy.”
Donja laughed…really laughed and it felt good. “Call me what you like, but it was wonderful, though I am sore…hmm, I might wait a while before we try again. Hey,” she said remembering the picture. “You’re not gonna believe this but Torin’s first wife, who was Chippewa, looks very much like one of the women in those pictures.”
“Really, you saw her?”
“A hand-painted birch, but it’s super old and though I can’t be sure, I swear there’s a resemblance,” she said snatching her purse and heading for the door.
Makayla joined her in the hallway. “Didn’t it bother you to see her? I mean, he still has her picture, rather weird don’t you think?”
“Hmm, not really,” Donja said making her way down the hallway. “He took it down before I left which was sweet, but what’s weird is that I moved to the Soo, into this house where we find a hidden room with a wedding album and hand painted pictures of brides, one of which is possibly my fiancé’s dead wife. I mean, go figure. What’s the odds of that happening?”
“Sheesh! That’s too spooky,” Makayla whined as they exited the front door, intense sunlight forcing a hand to shield her face. She heaved. “Wow, cold yesterday, a hundred degrees today, this feels like a sauna.”
“Yeah, it’s steamy, I suppose we can thank the storm last night,” Donja grumbled.
“That’s Michigan, always something with the weather,” Makayla frowned. She tucked her hair behind her ears. “All right, since you’re not going to say, I’m going to ask. What happened to his wife?”
“She died of old age, two hundred years ago.”
“And he stuck it out with her—old and wrinkled to the end?”
“Yes.”
“My God, that’s true love.”
“Umm hum,” Donja rocked her head up and down.
“I should be so lucky.”
“Well,” Donja said stepping over debris which littered the walk, “she could have crossed over and stayed young, but for whatever reason, she declined.”
Makayla scrunched her nose. “Ouch! That must have been a dagger to the heart.”
“I think you’re right. That’s why he never remarried.”
“Are you telling me he’s been alone all this time?” Makayla asked as she raised her hand and clicked the keyless remote on her Lexus.
“Yeah, isn’t it romantic?”
Makayla stopped eyeing the yard littered with broken branches. “Wow, it must have been one hell of a storm. Can you believe I slept through it?”
“Alone in this haunted manor, aren’t you the brave one?”
“Not really,” Makayla grinned, “I borrowed Maestro from Frankie.” Strolling for the car, she spied her dad and Frankie piling limbs into a wheelbarrow. “We’re going to library!” she shouted.”
Carson raised his hand to shield his eyes. “Okay, but don’t be long, we’re going out for dinner!”
“Oh, we won’t, we’re looking forward to it.”
The Library
Inside the bustling Michigan Soo, Makayla sped through a light and turned onto Library Drive. She paused with her blinker flashing as traffic flowed by.
“Wow. Nice library,” Donja said, eyeing the modern building. “Baylis Public Library,” she breathed, a name she wouldn’t forget. Makayla sped into the parking lot and parked the Lexus. They gathered the pictures and the wedding album in hand.
“It’s a very nice library,” Makayla remarked as they walked the sidewalk. “It’s affiliated with the Hiawatha Cooperative and Michigan Library. Do you like to read?”
“I do, actually, and as I’m sure you would guess, sci-fi and paranormal romance is my fav.”
“I’m a historical romance lover,” Makayla said.
Donja spied a black Mercedes in the parking lot and instantly thought of Torin. She scanned the exterior and noticing a dent on the driver side, realized it wasn’t Torin’s.
Inside the glass door where the smell of books wafted, they found a table and had no sooner sat down than two men approached them.
“Are you Makayla?” one of the men asked.
“Yes, and you must be Jonas?”
“I am indeed,” he said, as he pulled out a chair and sat down. He was lean, about forty with dark skin and ebony eyes that matched his closely buzzed hair. “This is my associate, Rubio,” he said as the other man, who was nigh on seven feet tall with a bald, shiny head, a gold tooth, and tattoos on his muscled arms, sat down.
Donja felt an instant nervousness and for no credible reason, for they were surely safe in a public forum, scooted closer to Makayla. Jonas seized the album as Donja and Makayla shared a look and began to flip through the pages, sharing a glance with Rubio. He slammed it tight and slid it back to Makayla. “The drawings,” he asked, “did you bring them?”
“Yes,” Makayla said, pulling them from a plastic bag.
Jonas and Rubio studied the pictures, with suspicious glances back and forth and then, Jonas pushed them across the table to Makayla. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time,” he said with a smile that revealed tob
acco-stained teeth, “but these are not the pictures we’ve been searching for.” He stood up, Rubio at his side. “What happened to your neck?” he grinned, his eyes locked on Donja.
Donja felt herself shrinking and pulled her locks tight around her neck.
“Something bite you?” he asked stretching his thick neck unnaturally.
“No, I…well,” she stumbled over her words, “have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Good answer,” he said as he spun to walk way, Rubio at his side. When the library door closed behind them, Donja exhaled forcefully.
“What the hell just happened?” Makayla whispered.
“I don’t know, but let’s get out of here.”
Outside the library, the first thing Donja noticed was Jonas and Rubio standing beside the black Mercedes. She tried to ignore them, but she could all but feel their eyes upon her. A furtive glance while clinging to the wedding album forced a shudder. “They’re staring,” she whispered.
“Just ignore them,” Makayla mumbled with a stolen glance as they hurried across the lot. Inside the Lexus, Donja breathed relief. Makayla cranked up and locked the doors. She backed up and waited as a group of kids crossed the parking lot. She glanced at the side mirror. “They’re getting in the car.”
“Just go,” Donja said sinking down in the seat.
Makayla exited the parking lot and had not driven more than a mile when her phone beeped. “Get that,” she said, her nervous eyes locked on the rearview mirror. “Oh crap!”
“What?” Donja blurted.
“They’re following us.”
Donja, who was fumbling in Makayla’s purse for the phone, whirled in the seat and glanced behind. And there it was, the black Mercedes trailing them.
“This is not good,” Donja said, just as the phone beeped again. She jerked Makayla’s wallet out, digging until she found the phone. She answered it and put it on speaker.
“Makayla,” a deep male voice sounded, “are you there?”
“Gage,” she breathed. “Two men are following us.”
“Mortals?”
“It’s hard to tell.”
“Describe them.”
“A tall, muscular black man named Jonas and the other one looks rough. He could be an Affiliate.”
“What’s his name?”
“Rubio.”
“What the hell!” Gage admonished, “he’s an Affiliate all right but it makes no sense. Why would they follow you? You’re both marked.”
“We had pictures online, some old ones and they wanted to buy them, so we met and now,” she said, “they’re on my butt.”
“Where are you?”
“Just left the Soo, headed out River Road.”
“Get the plate number for me.”
Donja spun in the seat, the Mercedes on their tail. “MCW 2401. They’re getting closer,” she screeched.
“Speed it up and get home. Don’t stop for any reason!” Gage replied with a commanding tone. “I’ll call Torin, he’s at the bridge which is where I was headed. We’ll be there as fast as possible.” The line went dead and Donja noticed that the two-lane road unfolding before them was empty, not a car in sight. She glanced to Makayla then the odometer which was inching past eighty and rising. Suddenly the Mercedes sped into the passing lane. “Look out!” Donja screeched with a hand to her mouth.
The Mercedes swerved recklessly and bumped sides with the Lexus. Makayla screamed, over compensated and the Lexus slipped off the road, fishtailing on the graveled shoulder. She spun the wheel and bounced back to the road into the opposite lane.
Ahead of them, the Mercedes slid to a stop in the middle of the road.
Makayla swerved onto the shoulder and managed to pass, metal to metal with an eerie scraping sound which caused them both to scream.
Donja glanced back just as the Mercedes peeled rubber with its tires smoking. It lunged forward at an incredible speed, racing toward them. “Go, go, go, hurry!” She screamed. She turned to the passenger window, the Mercedes inching up beside them. Jonas turned his head to Donja and their eyes met. He suddenly turned the wheel, gripping it with both hands and slammed them from the passenger side. Donja screamed, the impact knocking her atop the console as they left the road, bouncing and plowing through dense underbrush. They slammed into an embankment so hard that the airbags from the dash and steering wheel exploded. Donja, stunned by the bag which felt like a basketball to the face, struggled against the billowing mass. “Makayla!”
Without warning the passenger door was wrenched from the car with a horrid noise.
Donja screamed as powerful hands snapped her seat belt. She felt him grasp her tightly and she knew it was Jonas. He pulled her from the car, kicking and screaming, pitched her over his shoulder and trudged into the thick underbrush. As they neared the top of the ravine, she glanced back. “Makayla!” she cried, unsure if she was dead or alive. She struggled but his grip was painfully tight. She managed to raise her head and through the thick brush saw Rubio rip the back door from the hinges and toss it aside. “Makayla!” she hollered, her voice echoing off the river banks but all she could hear were the rapids of the St. Mary’s, and then she saw Rubio moving through the bushes with the wedding album in hand. “Makayla!” she screamed again. Hearing nothing, her terror turned to horror. “Let me go!” she squealed, her voice breaking.
Outside the Mercedes with gravel crunching beneath his black boots, Jonas opened the back door and threw Donja inside. She bounced across the seat, her heart hammering. She immediately tried to open the opposite door, frantically flipping the chrome handle. It was locked. With her mind filled with thoughts of rape and murder, she tried to climb over the seat. The front door swung wide, then Jonas slid behind the wheel just as Rubio took the passenger side and slammed the door. Jonas hit the gas, gravel rattling in the fender wells as the Mercedes fishtailed, then bounced onto the highway, picking up speed.
“Let me out this car!” Donja screamed, frantically trying to open the doors. “Let me go!” she screeched as a dark tinted glass slid up from within the front seat entombing her. She beat on the glass, screaming and begging to no avail until finally with her heartbeat threatening to rupture her chest and her fist throbbing with pain, she collapsed on the seat, hands over her face, sobbing.
~~~
Makayla, completely dazed with the breath knocked from her lungs by the airbag, gasped a breath. She felt a burning pain on her nose and then it all came flooding back. She remembered being forced from the road. She caught the coppery taste of blood and raised a hand to her lips and nose which were bleeding. “Donja!” she cried, fighting the airbag which slowly deflated the smell of gas penetrating her nostrils. “Donja!” She glanced past the passenger seat, the door was ripped away—gone. Fear gripped her like a vice and then she noticed her open purse, the contents scattered upon the floorboard. She saw her phone and stretched across the seat. She snatched it up and hit dial.
“Hello,” Gage answered.
Hearing his voice, Makayla lost it, screaming and sobbing.
“Calm down, baby, take a deep breath.”
“Help! They ran us off the road,” she blubbered, “and I think they took Donja, I can’t see her anywhere.”
“Are they gone?”
“Yes, I think so, I can’t see their car, but I’m in thick underbrush.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No, not seriously but hurry,” she sniffled, “there’s steam coming from under the hood and I can smell gas.”
“Stay calm, baby, deep breaths. Now listen to me. I need you to get out and get away from the car. Hide until I get there.”
“Hurry!” she sobbed, fighting the seat belt which was jammed.
“Where are you? I’m close but I don’t see you.”
“About a mile from our drive, left side facing the river. Hurry…oh no, the seat belt’s jammed!”
“Almost there, just hold on baby and don’t call anyone. Do you hear me? No one.”
> Vengeance
Investigating a crime scene on the banks of the Ontario Soo, Torin felt his phone vibrate. Burdened by the sight of Marie, Antonio’s daughter who had been mercilessly tortured, not a bone in her body intact, he ripped the latex gloves from his hands. He fumbled nervously in his pocket for the phone.
“Hello.”
“Torin!” Antonio’s voice blasted.
“I’m here.” Torin answered softly, walking away from the officers.
“I had a message to call you about my daughter.”
“From who?” Torin asked.
“I can’t say, it was a strange voice. Where are you?”
“Crime scene, Ontario Soo,” Torin paused, “another victim and I,” he paused, “was just about to call you.”
“Marie’s missing.” Antonio said.
Torin didn’t respond, searching for words he could not find.
“Oh no—oh God no,” Antonio moaned, “don’t tell me—no!”
“I’m sorry,” Torin whispered, squeezing his eyes tight.
The phone line crackled.
“Are you still there?” Torin asked.
“Yes,” Antonio gasped.
Torin gave him a moment. Finally, he heard Antonio sucking in air and then Antonio exhaled forcefully. “Was it him?”
“Yes.”
“I want the bastard,” Antonio sobbed.
“I understand,” Torin answered softly.
“The hell you do,” Antonio blurted, “she was my baby girl,” his voice cracked.
Torin closed his eyes.
“Find him,” Antonio said, his voice more in control, “do you hear me, Torin?”
“Yes, and again, I’m so sorry.”
The phone beeped an incoming call.
“I have a call, I need to take it,” Torin said, thankful to escape the misery. “I’ll call you back.” He ended the call and answered.
“Torin, it’s Gage, get to River Road fast, there’s an Affiliate on Donja and Makayla’s butt. Hurry!”
~~~
Inside the sleek, black Charger with the emergency light flashing, Torin sped out Highway 75, approaching 120 mph on the two-lane road. Sixteen miles outside of the Soo, he spied Gage’s burgundy Toyota Tundra parked on the shoulder. He slid to a stop, gravel flying, jumped out and ran to the truck. He opened the door and slid inside. Gage was behind the wheel, Makayla who had a bloody nose, sobbing in his arms.