Jaden

by Shayne Ford

  I push off the bed, throw a robe on me and walk outside.

  He sits at the table, smoking, his eyes drawn to the ocean. Drops of water cling to his skin.

  I pull a chair out and take a seat as well.

  He puts his cigarette out and motions to me as he rises to his feet.

  “Come,” he says, taking my hand.

  He leads me down the stairs and to the beach. Nonchalantly, he shimmies out of his sweatpants and peels the robe off my shoulders.

  Nervous, I look around.

  “What if someone sees us?”

  “We’ll get out before the sun comes out.”

  He pulls me into the ocean, the water quickly rising to my chest. Dark, the mass of water stretches in front of me as far as I can see.

  Panic crashes through my blood.

  “I can’t,” I mutter as I barely feel the ocean floor beneath my feet.

  I start swimming back.

  He catches me and pulls me back to him. I lock my arms around his neck and loop my legs around his waist.

  He pivots so I can see the shore.

  “Is this better ?” he asks.

  I nod, my gaze dipping to his lips.

  “What scares you?” he asks with the same soft voice.

  “The ocean.”

  “Not now. ”

  Holding my gaze, he lets his eyes drill deep in places I have always tried to hide.

  Gently, I touch his face, tracing his lips with trembling fingers.

  What scares me?

  Nothing. Not anymore.

  But I can’t tell him why, so I stay silent.

  “Why were you set on me?” he asks, locking my eyes again. “Why me, Senna? Anyone could’ve given you what you wanted.”

  I slowly shake my head.

  “I’m not so sure,” I say, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I don’t know why. That’s how I felt. Right from the beginning. Something pulled me to you. I can’t explain it. It has never happened to me before, so I went for it. I followed my instinct.”

  He ponders for a moment.

  “Weren’t you afraid?”

  I shake my head.

  “Not many things scare me, and men surely are not one of them. I knew you weren’t any man, but it didn’t matter to me. I saw something in you I haven’t seen in anyone else, other than in me, perhaps. That’s why I couldn’t just walk away and forget about you. I had to find out whether what I saw was real or not. In a way, I haven’t had a choice. I had to try to get to you. ”

  I pause.

  “For a long time, I was trapped in a world of my own, convinced that my fate was sealed. There was very little chance I’d find someone like you, so I grabbed the opportunity with both hands.”

  “And?”

  I slowly stroke his neck.

  “I think you are much more than I imagined and way deeper than I envisioned. And I think your life is full of secrets and stories and scars. Some of them are on your arms, and some of them are in your heart.”

  He watches me in silence, his eyes looking silver in the moonlight. Nothing reads on his face.

  “You don’t like to talk much,” I mutter, my thumb trailing his lips, my gaze dropping to his mouth.

  “No kiss, you say.”

  “No,” he murmurs.

  “What would it take to––”

  He glances at the horizon.

  “The sun is rising. We need to go,” he says, cutting me off brashly.

  Without another word, he peels me off him and swims away. I have no other choice but to follow him and head for the shore.

  10

  SENNA

  A smell of food fills my nostrils, poking at my awareness.

  Slowly, I open my eyes, blink a few times and glance at the window. It’s still dark. How long have I been sleeping?

  Damnit.

  Naked, I roll onto the sheets, and suddenly, bolt upright. Panic surges through me as I realize it’s evening. As in Saturday evening.

  Oh, my fucking God. The party must be well on its way.

  “Jaden?”

  Where is he?

  Frantically, I push off the bed and search the rooms.

  A dinner table for two is set on the terrace, a delicious smell wafting through the air. My stomach begins to growl. I wish I had time to eat. I can’t believe he let me sleep the whole day and didn’t even bother to wake me.

  Maybe I should take a bite. I pile food on a plate, and rush inside, dashing straight to the closet. Food and clothing don’t mix well, especially when you are in a hurry. I do my best not to ruin my gown while shoving morsels of food into my mouth.

  I lay my dress and shoes on the bed, stuff my mouth one last time, and dart to the shower.

  Minutes later, I put my makeup on––carefully painting my lips and highlighting my eyes, then brush my hair and slip into my dress, spending a few rushed moments to examine my reflection in the mirror.

  The green metallic gown clings to my body, setting off the swell of my breasts and the curves of my backside. Satin strips embellished with rhinestone buckles criss-cross my bare back.

  Emerald earrings dangle from my earlobes, almost touching my shoulders. I put my heels on and strut to the door.

  Gingerly, I follow the path of petals all the way to the building hosting the event. The place is packed with people. There are way more than I expected.

  They fill the ballroom and the terrace, some of them clustering in groups on the beach. Who are all these people? I hardly see a familiar face.

  Eventually, I spot a few family friends. Some of them recognize me, and we stop to talk banalities.

  It doesn’t take long before I pull away from the big crowd and settle on the terrace.

  “Senna?”

  Isabel’s voice makes me swivel my head.

  I turn around and take her in. Her eyes light up with glee. A beaded nude gown hugs her body.

  “Do you feel any better?” she asks, throwing me for a loop.

  “Do I feel any better?” I mutter, lifting an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  “Your stomach... Jaden said you didn’t feel well. Hopefully, it wasn’t the food.”

  “Oh, my stomach... Yes. It’s much better, and I’m fairly sure it wasn’t the food,” I say, rolling with whatever shit he made up.

  Why would he say something like that?

  “Well, I’m glad,” she says, smiling.

  “Have you seen him?” I ask, concerned that he started to run his mouth.

  She looks at me, puzzled.

  “Jaden,” I say.

  “Oh, yes. He sat with us at our table a few minutes ago.”

  She cranes her neck out, looking for him inside. Unable to locate him, she shifts her gaze.

  “Isn’t he there?” she asks, pointing across the terrace.

  Leaning against a hand railing, hand in his pocket, eyes narrowed with a smile, he listens to a voluptuous brunette who laughs at him as if the sun rises from his eyes.

  Her chest rocks up and down, making my teeth grit.

  “Yeah... That’s him,” I murmur, my eyes throwing daggers in his direction.

  “I’ll see you inside,” Isabel says as she registers the change of expression on my face.

  “Okay,” I mutter, unable to peel my eyes away from him.

  She glides away, someone else demanding her attention.

  “Hey.”

  An arm snakes around my waist, twirling me around.

  “Hey,” I say, smiling softly.

  “Are you okay?” Nick asks.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Your friend told us the story.”

  “What story?” I ask, grappling with irritation.

  “The shark story. He said that you were swimming, and at one point you thought a shark was following you. Are the sharks swimming so close to the shore?”

  Oh, my fucking God! I’m gonna kill the motherfucker.

  “Yes, the shark story... It was terrible,” I say, swiftly excusing my
self and tearing away from him. “I’ll catch up with you later,” I say, placing a light kiss on his cheek.

  Holding the bottom of my gown with one hand, I slice my way through a group of people when someone bumps into me, making me stumble into the woman at my side.

  “Senna?”

  The woman’s voice stops me in my tracks.

  If she’s here, he must be here as well.

  I slowly turn.

  “Evelyne,” I say dryly, a cold smile plastered on my face.

  Pursing her lips, she runs her eyes down on me, not even trying to hide her disappointment.

  “You cut your hair,” I say, attempting to start a conversation.

  Her blonde hair is shorter than I remember, now barely touching her shoulders. Her cheekbones push against her skin, her blue eyes blinking at me, framed by faked lashes.

  The black gown makes her look older and skinnier, arguably not something that she really needs.

  “You look different,” she says, her eyes lingering below my chin.

  “I do?”

  “Yes. Trashier,” she says, throwing the word at me without a flinch. Her lips quirk in disgust. “I bet it sits well with a certain kind of men,” she adds.

  “What kind of men?” I ask, swallowing a nasty retort to keep things civil.

  “Players, drifters. The man you date. That writer... I always thought you’d do better than that,” she says, her voice strikingly condescending. “I’m not so sure right now. Not looking like that, anyway. I can’t think of any serious man who’d marry someone like you.”

  “I’m not looking for a husband.”

  A malicious smile stretches across her face.

  “Well, maybe you should. Good looks won’t last forever. Besides, you don’t have an education, a career, not even a skill to make a living. What is exactly what you do? Dumpster diving?”

  I blanch.

  She can’t possibly know.

  “Are you mooching on someone? Oh, wait...”

  A knowing grin curves her lips.

  “Have you gotten yourself a sugar daddy?”

  I suck in a short breath.

  “It was nice seeing you, Evelyne,” I say curtly, trying to avoid the trap, although I’m fairly sure it’s a bit too late for that.

  Her eyes flip over my shoulder just as I begin to spin around.

  “Senna?”

  The male voice slices through me with the precision of a laser, rendering me still.

  My knees slacken as my hands begin to tremble and a shiver sweeps my spine. Evelyne’s eyes train on me, gauging my reaction as I take a step back and face her husband.

  “Lance.”

  His eyes lock mine, no emotion flashing in his gaze.

  “I haven’t seen you in a while,” he says.

  I can almost sense Evelyne’s pulse exploding in her neck.

  “Where have you been hiding?” he tosses at me as Evelyne’s attention shifts to someone at her side.

  A dark glint flashes in his eyes as he scans my dress and body.

  “You haven’t changed,” he murmurs.

  His undertone comes seasoned with a wolfish smile and not much mystery. I know exactly what he means.

  He hasn’t changed much either. Dark-haired, buffed up, he has the same wandering eyes and sinful lips.

  “If anything you’re more beautiful,” he says quietly, mostly to himself.

  The air gets stuck in my throat as he runs his gaze on me again, swiftly undressing me with his eyes.

  Evelyne turns to us the same moment a familiar scent of cologne rolls over me and Jaden’s arm loops around my waist. He splays his fingers on my back.

  “Where have you been, sweetheart?” he mutters, planting a kiss on the corner of my lips, masterfully handling his act.

  We connect eyes, and despite the fact that Evelyne and Lance gawk at us, we stall for a moment, trapped in a shared stare that makes my heart flutter.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” he says as I give him a swift once over, barely hiding my surprise.

  The tux falls smoothly on his hard, tall body, his hair, all swept back, revealing his stunning face. The glint in his eyes gives away his undeniable sexual power, his smile making me wet between my thighs.

  Slowly raising an eyebrow, he relishes my surprise. Spellbound, I watch him run his fingers along my jawline and his lips curving into a warm smile.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Lance shifting his gaze from me to Jaden as he tightens his arm around my waist, and pulls me into him.

  I wrap my arm around Jaden as well and rest my head against his shoulder. The brief theatrical moment, as phony as it is, spurs butterflies in my stomach.

  “How’s the writing business these days?” Lance asks, irony drenching his words.

  “It has never been better,” Jaden says with unfaltering confidence.

  His lips curve into a mischievous smile, and for a moment I fear his retort. To my surprise, he reins in his reaction.

  “People love my work,” he chimes, sweet and pure like an angel. “They chase me around for more, they love it so much,” he says.

  I bite my lip to stifle a grin.

  “It’s not for everybody, and it’s an acquired taste, but it makes people tremendously happy,” he says, adding a charming smile to his charade.

  Evelyne opens her mouth to comment. Faster than her, Jaden turns to me.

  “You must be hungry, love,” he says, lacing his fingers through mine.

  He motions at them goodbye, and I wave at them as well. Dumbstruck, Lance and Evelyne watch us pulling away.

  As we put some space between the party and us, he slides his hands off me and starts undoing his bow tie, his smile falling from his face.

  “Who the hell are these people?” he asks, pissed.

  As soon as we near the corner of the building and people are no longer in sight, he tucks the bow tie in his pocket.

  “Jaden?”

  I grip his arm. He turns to me, his eyes brimming with disappointment, gray like a pile of ashes.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “Nothing.”

  “That’s not nothing. Did they say something to you?”

  His lips tilt into a sad smile.

  “Do they really need to?”

  “They can be mean sometimes,” I say.

  He locks my eyes.

  “That’s not mean. I don’t give a fuck about mean. I couldn’t care less if it was that. Besides, mean is genuine, but these people are just...”

  He pauses, looking for the right words.

  “They think so highly of themselves they resent anything that doesn’t fit their taste or view of life.”

  “It’s just a different world. They don’t like me either, if that’s any consolation,” I murmur.

  “No, it’s not... Why would they not like you?”

  “I’m different than them.”

  “You mean your head is not stuck up your ass.”

  I smile.

  “Yeah. You can put it that way.”

  “Money is a wonderful thing if you don’t let it go to your head,” he says, bitter and disillusioned. “Do you mind if I go back?” he asks.

  My eyes stay on him for a few moments, drinking him in, the emotions fleeting through his eyes showing me a different side of him. He looks so much different than the man propped on his bike in the back alley selling his body for a buck.

  “What is it?”

  “You look good,” I say, my eyes roving down on him. “The tux looks great on you.”

  “You too,” he says, giving me a side glance.

  “What did they say to you?”

  “It’s not about me. They said a lot about you.”

  “Really? What exactly did they say?”

  A sad smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

  “That you’re a failure... That you would’ve had a great future had you not dropped out of Med School. That no decent man would marry you. ”

>   “They are who they are. You can’t change the way people think or see things.”

  He whips his eyes at me.

  “If you’re a failure Senna, what does that make me?”

  “It doesn’t matter what they say.”

  “It doesn’t matter unless it’s the truth.”

  He pulls away from me, heading to the bungalow.

  I sweep the bottom of my gown off the ground, hold it up and rush after him, trying to keep my balance on my heels.

  “It’s not the truth, Jaden,” I say, finally catching up with him.

  “It’s not when it comes to you.You’re as far from a failure as I’ve ever seen. I don’t know anyone else so young, making the kind of money that you make, running their life the way they want. And unless you do something illegal–– which I doubt, you’re someone I’d consider a success.”

  He stops, and I catch my breath.

  “Do you really mean it?” I ask through gasps.

  “Every fucking word,” he says.

  We enter the bungalow a few moments later.

  He darts to the closet and spends a few moments collecting his clothes before he walks out and plops his travel bag on the bed.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m leaving.”

  “You don’t have to leave, Jaden. We’re not going back to the party.”

  “It doesn’t make a damn difference to me,” he says, shedding off his clothes.

  He pulls his jeans on and a T-shirt, and then he shoves everything else in his bag. He lays the tux on the bed.

  “I’m not such a success,” I say, my voice lined with sad realization.

  “Why’s that, Senna?”

  “I have nothing besides money.”

  “And independence,” he adds. “That’s not nothing.”

  “Okay. But it wasn’t always like that. I’ve been where you are.”

  He drops everything and closes the distance between us.

  “Have you?” he asks, a dark emotion glinting in his eyes.

  I nod.

  “Yes...” I say softly. “Years back, I was out there on the street, fishing for food in dumpsters, and taking jobs that wouldn’t leave me with enough money to buy the cardboard to sleep on under the bridge. And it’s not as if I didn’t think about sucking cock for money, but I wouldn’t have survived on the street. Not then, at least. I would’ve been dead by now.”