Resisting the Bad Boy - A Standalone Bad Boy Romance

by Gabi Moore

  For a long while, I sat there, staring at the highway, and listening to talk radio. The stories were mildly interesting, as were the responses of the callers, but they weren't interesting enough to hold my entire attention. The only purpose that they actually managed to serve was separating myself from the silence that threatened to swallow the car in my isolation.

  Before passing out himself, Erol had informed me of the highways to keep an eye out for, as well as a few major landmarks that would indicate we were headed in the right direction. The trip would take all night, and I would be driving for the rest of the time if I had anything to say about it.

  I had the unshakable feeling like we were headed for a trap. Some terrible situation was about to unfold; yet there was no alternative available to either of us. We needed to move forward into the unknown and deal with whatever savage consequences existed before us. Meanwhile, all that was asked of me was to keep my eyes on the road, and maintain consciousness while the dogs and my passenger slept in the cab.

  I had a hard time feeling anything but contempt for the man, but I got the feeling that it wasn't so much contempt that I was feeling, but frustration on a larger scale which was lashing out wherever it could. I was so unbelievably bitter, angry and depressed, that the full magnitude of it couldn't even be expressed coherently. All I could do was stick to the task at hand, and deal with whatever emotions were most aggressively emergent.

  In all reality, Erol really wasn't a bad guy at all.

  He was good looking, compassionate, intelligent, intuitive, and let's face it, even if he was driven in a way that the rest of his society didn't support, you couldn't exactly call him unmotivated. The way he laid down there with his dogs gave me plenty to think about, as I wondered what his life had been like before I showed up and made things more complicated for him.

  And more complicated yet, I thought.

  By the time this was all over, I had some serious doubts as to where he would find himself. Then again, none of us really knew what would happen when, and if the portal could actually be opened. As far as I was aware, the only information we actually had was some combination of actual experience and theoretical knowledge. The problem was that neither of us had experience with opening the portal for any extended period of time. There was no way of knowing what would happen.

  My thoughts were interrupted by the strangest conversation coming out of the speakers of the car.

  "You know when I wake up at night, and I look out the window, I see her and she's there waiting for me."

  "Who's that? Whose there waiting for you?"

  "They are. The people. The people of light. They are asking me questions, and hoping that I do good things for them, and I just want them to know that I'm doing my best. I am doing everything I can and I don't know what to say about it except that the dark ones."

  "The dark ones?"

  "That's right, I call them the shadow people."

  "Are these actual people?"

  "Well, no. I'm not talking about humans. These are extra-dimensional beings that a previous incarnation of the government came into contact with. They are not who they say they are... I can't trust them."

  "Sounds difficult... are you all right where you are at right now. Are you safe?"

  "Well, of course. I'm here by my bed. I've got one standing in the corner of the room, and one standing on the side. They are telling me they live here, and that this is their home too."

  "So, they aren't doing anything to harm you, and they live there. Have you told them to go to the light?"

  "I tried, and they laughed at me."

  "The laugh, is it an audible laugh?"

  "No, it sounds like the scratching of leaves against a frosted window...."

  "Gods, that's enough."

  I reached my hand out and switched off the dial. The absence of noise caused Rosemary to get up and look at me. She blinked lazily, and then settled down again.

  "So much for the radio, can't believe you listen to that shit."

  I didn't expect Erol to be up, but as soon as I spoke, he got up with a groan and a yawn.

  "It's nice to know that there are others out there even crazier than myself."

  His statement gave me pause.

  "Gets lonely working on portal theories, and meditations on the paranormal. I need some company, and so I turn to the radio in order to find what I'm looking for. The strangest part about that entire conversation is that is just some snippet from someone's life."

  "You were awake for that?"

  "Sure. I was awake enough to listen. I allow myself to drift off like that, and the radio keeps me company. Of course not while I'm driving, but since you're taking care of that..."

  I strained my mind to wonder what it was exactly that the man on the radio had been experiencing, but I couldn't come to any sort of conclusions. Erol must have known what I was thinking, because he responded to my unvoiced question.

  "The problem is that most psychic phenomenon is a subjective experience. It's all dependent on the way that a person interprets information that enters their perception. It could very well be that a shadow person and a woman of light were taking up space in that man's room. The problem is that not everybody is even open to those sorts of possibilities, and so there is an inherent loneliness in experiencing psychic phenomenon. When you factor in the subjectivity of interpretation, all of the sudden, we are in territory that is even more isolating."

  I nodded.

  "So, you get aliens, angels, ancestors..."

  "And all the rest of it. The point is, we have no idea what is on the other side of all of these experiences. All we have is the figurative finger pointing at the moon."

  "I understand."

  "That's why I think this mission we are on right now is so important. The entire premise here is that we might be able to create an opening between dimensions. The hope is that it changes something, and makes it so that people don't have to believe that people are crazy just because they are having psychic experiences. If I'm correct in my theory, I think we will all come to accept psychic experiences as an aspect of life, not as some unique phenomenon, or indicator of insanity."

  I was stunned.

  "I can't believe it..."

  "What's that?"

  "The audacity of males is cross-dimensional."

  He had a good laugh about that, which was nice to hear. I was being completely serious, but it was nice to at least see some element of comfort in the situation. The laughter was short-lived, leaving us in the darkness of the car once more, but it was a moment.

  "You know, I have the feeling that the audacity is complimented equally by some level of sacrifice that we are never fully aware of until it happens."

  "Try not to complain too much for me."

  "Oh, I'm not intending to be sexist. Women definitely have their own sacrifices that they need to make over the course of their lives. I just think that more often than not, men are called to make sacrifices that are more physical in nature; usually more permanent."

  "Are you afraid?"

  He shrugged, and winced involuntarily.

  "I've had a few dreams. Nothing that prevents me from wanting to move forward, but I consider them to be warnings. Dreams are powerful things, and I don't think it is ever wise to ignore them."

  "You know, I'm familiar enough with your culture to know that most of your stories have been written by men."

  "Interesting, but I don't think it negates my statement."

  I grinned.

  "You would think that."

  This brought out another laugh, though, this time it was less severe than the first. Both Amethyst and Rosemary were up for the occasion. Amethyst was even wagging her tail back and forth against the rear cab of the truck.

  "If you see history, and the mythological process of storytelling as an anthropological record of the psyche of the storytellers, and the storytellers were predominately men, that doesn't preclude these records as being used to assemble an ar
chetype of male experience. It might prevent anyone from talking about ‘human’ or ‘female’ experience, but one would hope that over enough time, something would have been distilled there, inside of those stories."

  "Like the Tarot."

  He nodded.

  "Exactly. A pictorial account of human behavior throughout the ages."

  I didn't bother to tell him that instead of being centered within a masculine viewpoint, he was also now centering himself within a human viewpoint. The point seemed moot, as I doubted he could have expressed his thoughts in any other way.

  "Do you even know who I am, or where I'm from?"

  Another smile, though this one was a bit more sad than the last.

  "I see what you and I are doing as an adventure. Imagine you were driving late at night, and you were listening to a radio show..."

  "And I heard you talking about how you went to discover a portal between dimensions with some type of alien visitor..."

  A smile brought a squint to my eyes.

  "You're right. People would think you were crazy."

  "So I accept what ever is happening, and hope that at the end of it all, there's going to be something there worth while for me."

  "Hm. You're just the passenger. Not a bad way to deflect responsibility."

  "C'mon, let's roll down the window and put on some tunes."

  "And Everything Looks Good Tonight..."

  "La La La La La La La La..."

  The dogs joined in, and we both sang the chorus. Sacrifices would most certainly be asked. No story was complete without them.

  For the moment, I knew he was right.

  No reason not to enjoy it while it lasted.

  * * *

  "Well, we're here."

  "We may have bonded this trip, but that doesn't give you permission to make inane statements of observation."

  "Oh, right, gotcha. You get to play a hardass now that you've been behind the wheel all night."

  I let the response slide, and did my best to appreciate the scenery.

  Our final destination was more beautiful than I had anticipated. There was definitely something magical about those beaches. The stones on the ground looked like they were made of gems. Some of the stones were pitch black, others were blue, green, and rose colored; all of them were smooth enough to where you could see your reflection in them if you squatted down toward the ground.

  The sound of the waves and the wind provided a backdrop for the birds of early morning. We were there at dawn, and the sun rose behind us in the sky. Light shot outward toward the ocean, and I smiled thinking about how beautiful the sunset was going to be later on that night.

  Assuming we make it that long...

  The thought came into my head unbidden. There was no reason to believe that all safety and beauty should dissipate throughout the course of the day, but still I felt uncomfortable. I couldn't tell if it was because I was operating on a lack of sleep, or if it was because of some more legitimate reason. I was certain that our arrival meant my full awareness was necessary.

  The memory of the dream from the day before was still fresh in my mind. The sun of the demon world cast a dark shadow in my thoughts. The soft glow of these coastal dunes at dawn was much more to my liking.

  "Now what?"

  I turned away from the lapping waves to find Erol was carefully attending to his rats.

  They were running along his shoulders while his arms were spread outward from his body. Both dogs scampered around him and barked playfully at their master. He looked so loved, and yet he was alone.

  I walked over closer, and gave Amethyst a scratch between the ears. She pounced after a stick on the ground and brought it to me expectantly.

  "Did you hear me?" I asked, as I threw the stick into the ocean.

  He started to speak, but was interrupted by a sharp bark from Rosemary.

  The cry surprised both of us, and we watched as the dog positioned itself between the truck and a figure that was standing on the edge of the dunes.

  Chapter 14

  "Rosemary.... Hush!"

  Amethyst came back drenched in seawater, only to drop the stick at my side, and lower her gaze in the direction of the figure on the hill. Amethyst's stance grew closer to the ground, and a low growl came out from her throat.

  "I think we've found out where we need to go."

  Even as I spoke, the figure fled from the hill, opting to disappear backward into the depths of the sand dunes.

  "You think following them is a good idea?"

  His voice was laced with reservation. He didn't want to have another episode like the restaurant any more than I did. Still, I shook my head.

  "I don't think it's going to be like that. If they wanted to attack, they would have done so already. Our guard was down. We need to follow."

  Whether or not the decision to follow was an aspect of the will of fate, or not was not a concern for me. I had my own questions to answer, and I had a suspicion that the if we moved in the direction that this stranger lead us toward, I might find more than just the answers to my questions. I would find the transfer point. The portal used by the Wilder Fae to track us down.

  I had been too blind before to piece things together. The battle had been too shocking.

  “Put your stuff away, Erol, and stay with the dogs. I need to have a word with this stranger.”

  “What if they come back while you’re gone?”

  “Like I said, if they wanted you dead, you would already be gone. I’ll be back shortly.“

  I sprinted off in the direction of the figure. They already had a fair enough start on me, but I had a feeling that we would talk soon. You don’t make yourself known unless you wish to be known — especially if you are the Wilder Fae.

  My feet sank into the sand, and I could feel the grains of sand on the dunes slip in-between my toes. My muscles burned as I ascended the hill, but the exertion felt good. I smiled, thinking about how cramped my legs had gotten after driving all night. An early morning run was exactly what I needed to wake my body up again.

  When I arrived at the top of the dune, I noticed that the figure I was chasing had left footprints along the crest of the next dune, which lead toward a hill. I accommodated for the change in trajectory, and made it my goal to balance along the crest of the dune with each footfall.

  Scanning the peaks of the dunes, in mid sprint, I saw my target ahead of me by forty yards or so. All of the time I had spent in training came back to me, and my body assumed the position of peak physical performance.

  The landscape around me came into hyper focus, and I became incredibly sensitive to the most subtle changes in the shape of the dune.

  I wanted my feet to land at precisely the right angle, allowing me to minimize drag in the sand, and make up the distance left to cover.

  The dunes went on for a half-mile or so, before transferring into more stable ground. The trade off was that instead of negotiating the surface of the dunes, the chase would lead up the trail toward a set of beachside cliffs.

  My breath ran heavily, and my vision started to go soft. At that moment, I had only one goal:

  I had to capture that person and make them answer for the intrigue surrounding the attack at the restaurant.

  A leap from the final crest of the sand dune left me skidding down the side of the final hill. At the base of the dune, the ground assumed a different texture as I climbed upward on the hill toward the sea cliffs. The sand had been replaced by a more firm foundation. In addition to the foundational changes of the soil, sparse, wind-blown trees began to crop up on either side of the trail.

  Through the switchbacks, I sprinted up the hill, until the trees around had grown tense enough to provide a semblance of protection. That coverage was all that the Wild Fae needed to deceive me in my pursuit. While I ran headfirst up the hill, I was tackled from behind by the very figure I had chased.

  The impact threw me off balance, and I fell face first into the ground. My body burned from t
he abrasions on my skin. I also lost what breath was inside of my body while my assailant brought their entire weight down on my chest cavity.

  Stars exploded in my vision, and for a moment, I lost all context. My body was little more than a vector for confusion and pain in that moment.

  Without wasting any time, my attacker wrapped a cord around my throat, and pinned my shoulders to the ground with their knees. I struggled, and bucked my hips, but the more I thrashed around, the tighter the cord grew on my skin. I flailed around for a moment longer, refusing to give into the submission.

  Then everything went black.

  * * *

  I woke up with cords wrapped tightly around my body. My neck ached, and my jaw was spread wide by rope. When I spoke, the words only came out as muffled yelps, but that was enough to let my captor know that I was conscious.

  The figure I had chased was alone, by all appearances. More of them could have been waiting in the trees beyond. My wits were not the sharpest they had ever been. I was both fatigued, and in physical pain, but I was alive, and that counted for something.

  "You don't recover nearly as quickly as you used to..."

  My vision blurred, and I looked at the figure standing in front of me.

  They were dressed in the garb of the Wilder Fae Assassins.

  Dark green clothes.

  Masks covering their faces, but their bodies displayed alluringly for all to envy. This one was a woman, and she looked not only beautiful, but also highly capable. I realized then, that even if I had not been in a state of fatigue, I would have had difficulty matching myself against her prowess.

  While we all had trained hard during the years of conflict in the Revolution, the Wilder Fae had always trained. They exercised and ate like warriors even in times of peace, so that if, and when -- for it was always a when -- conflict arose, they would be prepared to do what was necessary to protect their way of life.

  The Wilder Fae were some of the fiercest allies during the time of the Revolution, but they were also some of the most philosophically stoic. Their separatist attitudes protected them from getting caught up in the nationalistic self-righteousness that infected both the Revolutionary Troops, and Xan's Army.