Courted by Karma (The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod)

by Ellen, Tracy

  “Phil, give me a minute, please.” Without another word, I climbed into the far back bench seat and sat stiffly staring sightlessly out the window.

  I was able, little by little, to start compartmentalizing my raging emotions so that I could sort out my thoughts over what I’d witnessed in the barn.

  Was I surprised to hear Luke owned the company and was not simply an operator like I was led to believe, or assumed?

  At this point, if I found out he was the Messiah, I wouldn’t bat an eyelash.

  Do I think Luke was having a thing with Svettie, or would have a thing?

  Not while she worked for him, but who the hell really knew?

  Was Luke my boyfriend?

  No, he was not.

  Do I have any rights to barge in and accuse Svettie of anything?

  No, I do not.

  Was not Luke very clear that he’s never told a woman he’d be faithful in his life?

  Yes, he was very clear.

  Was I not completely happy to hear this from him less than twenty-four hours ago?

  Yes, I was.

  So then why was I completely devastated right now?

  That was the question I was struggling to put into words to answer. For my soul to understand why I think it was best if we parted ways, I felt I owed it some sort of an explanation.

  I have met the man that I’ve come to understand fulfilled me in all the important ways--brain, body, and soul. Luke made me think, scream, laugh, and after last night, love. I have never experienced such overwhelming and complete attraction. If the last twenty-five years of being out in the world and surrounded by men were any indication, I probably won’t ever experience it again.

  People have an idea of me that couldn’t be farther from the truth, but since I don’t care what most folks believe, and since it’s nobody’s business, I haven’t bothered defending myself or correcting any misapprehensions. NanaBel knows who I am, and that’s good enough for me. Nobody else in my circle of family or friends has ever asked me for the truth, and so I let people assume what they want.

  Bottom line, I was practically a virgin in the scope of my sexual experience.

  Not that I cared about virginity, except in this case as a word to describe the status of my cha-cha in direct relation to its limited contact with men’s penises. Without giving a play-by-play of the last fifteen years, suffice it to say Mike and I just started to have sex before we broke up. Before Mike was my boyfriend, I was a virgin. For all practical purposes, I may as well have been one since we broke up. In depressed desperation, I tried to have sex a couple of times in the early years after Mike and I ended. I threw myself in for the kill, but without sexual attraction or interest, it was just too empty and no fun for me.

  I’ve spent the last ten years trying to be attracted enough to all sorts of different men to want to have sex, but like forcing the love doesn’t work, this hasn’t happened for me, either. Perhaps it was strange, but I’ve never worried I have a low sex drive or mental problems. Well, not serious ones, anyway. This was probably because I wear out my toys quite regularly, my jeep could drive itself to The Smitten Kitten sex shop in Minneapolis, and I owned stock in Energizer batteries.

  Somehow, my serial dating in the quest for a man that set off even a glimmer of attraction had morphed into a reputation of me being a woman of enormous sexual appetites. It was a fallacy that I, unashamedly and without a backward glance, screwed anything that wasn’t nailed down that struck my fancy. This has always saddened me, as I think it sounded quite fun and only wished it was remotely true.

  And then I met Luke Drake. He walked into my store and my blood boiled from twenty feet away. He got called away to work, but he couldn’t stop thinking about me for months, either. We had a first date and he pulled my panties off within five minutes and buried his face between my legs. We fucked like rabbits, dogs, monkeys, and humans every chance we got. He was taking me places sexually I’d always dreamed of visiting. We reflected each other’s light, and we feed each other’s darkness.

  So what does this have to do with being devastated at what I witnessed in the barn?

  It took only one hour of loving Luke Drake, and I’ve gone and ruined everything I just described. I don’t feel it was very fair I got to experience love for only one hour before it went to hell, but that’s karma for you.

  I heard a saying lately that everyone you meet in life was either a blessin’ or a lesson.

  In the first hour of experiencing this phenomenon called love, I’ve also experienced my blessin’ and my lesson with Luke.

  The blessing I received was to be transported by the happiness, exhilaration, and rightness of these incredible feelings. Mac was right; love was much different from the infusion of chemicals into the bloodstream called sexual infatuation—even from the enormous overdoses of sexual infatuation that I’d experienced.

  I know. How odd was that, right?

  Since meeting Luke, it was no secret that there hasn’t been a zeptosecond when I haven’t worshiped the man’s penis. To understand the depth of my love for Luke, simply put, it meant I wanted what was best for Luke, even more than I wanted to worship his penis.

  The lesson I learned eavesdropping in Luke’s barn was that I was not the best woman for Luke.

  My devastation was the direct result of knowing I could have killed Svettie while watching her disrobe for Luke. I could have beat Luke for acting like a typical man and looking at her bared body for even a moment. If those dark, flip-side feelings of my love for Luke existed without any discussion of a commitment between us, I could only shudder imagining how scary I’d be in a relationship.

  I don’t like Svettie and never will, and I’ll have a very hard time restraining myself at Thanksgiving dinner, but she’s not the real problem. I was the problem.

  I never known this until fifteen minutes ago, but apparently I was a violently jealous woman. Luke’s a man that raised violently passionate feelings in women. I couldn’t live that way. He’ll never know how close I came to asking him to go steady, but even as I was aching already at the thought of him and his penis gone from my life, it was for the best.

  It’s not that I don’t love him any longer after seeing him with Svettie. I’m afraid I was going to be cursed with loving Torquemada for a long time, if not forever. I’d deal somehow. While I wanted to boil Svettie in hot oil and I don’t get why Luke dealt with her so gently, I did have faith there was a reason. I might not agree with his reason, but I know Luke’s got one.

  I trust Luke Drake.

  It was the cold-hearted killer in me that I couldn’t trust.

  Turning from sightlessly watching out the limo’s window and with a quivering lip held firmly checked, I told Phil to drive me home. I ignored the voices in my head and I ignored the vibrating text from Luke on my cell: John said he just saw you? Sorry you had to leave.

  Chapter XX

  “Mustang Sally” by Muddy Waters

  Thanksgiving 11/22/12

  7:53 AM

  “Stop!” I ordered Phil the driver. “Take me back to the farm!”

  “Uh, I haven’t left yet.”

  I threw open the door and started running back up the lane.

  ‘What in the HELL was I thinking? Has love made me insane already in less than two hours? Am I not the woman that knows there is no other man that makes me scream, laugh, and think like Luke Drake? Am I going to slink away with my tail between my legs because I am scared of my passionate yet oddly sociopathic nature?’

  ‘HELL NO!’ Everyone screamed back, laughing and jumping in the air while high-fiving.

  I saw the silver car ahead of me about halfway up the lane, cautiously navigating the ruts and valleys.

  ‘That’s right, hell no! I NEVER run from myself because I’m scared! I have a fighting spirit!’

  ‘GO ANABEL!’ The roaring and clapping in my head was louder than a stadium of Super Bowl fans trying to drown out the opposing quarterback’s play calling. I threw my
arms over my head and waved my fists. Then I tucked my head, and pumping my arms and legs, got down to some serious Terminator running.

  I have a penis to claim for my very own and a Russian bitch to maim, but not kill. It was Thanksgiving after all. I have a lot to be thankful for, and so will Luke once I was done with him.

  It took only a few seconds for me to catch up with the silver sedan. As I drew abreast of the heaving car from the safety of my narrow path on the left side of the lane, I glanced over. The surprise on John’s face made me laugh, but I didn’t slow down.

  I heard windows whir down and I glanced over again. Damaris was holding onto the overhead strap and calmly watching me from the back seat of the bucking car with a slightly raised brow and a small smile. Paul was swaying and waving with a big grin from the front.

  I grinned back and shouted over to them all, “I’m on my way to sit your son’s ass down and tell him some hard facts, so you all better steer clear of the barn for a while!”

  Paul laughed and called back, “Go get him, tiger! Then come to the house for a cup of coffee with me!”

  Laughing, I huffed out a breathless, “If Luke ever allows me into his house, does that offer include Mama Drake’s baklava?”

  Damaris’ smile widened into almost a grin when she answered, “It does, dear!”

  John stared back at me with an inscrutable face behind his Ray-Bans.

  Pulling ahead of the car, I glanced back and gave him another dose of the Viggo V. “No cheating and calling ahead to warn your little buddy you saw me again, snake man!” Jumping over a puddle at my feet and glancing back again, I called to Damaris, “Don’t let him call, Mama D!”

  Luke’s mother threw back her head and laughed. She assured me, “I won’t, dear.”

  “Watch his texting fingers, too!” I gasped, not used to full out running across rough terrain.

  “I’ll smash his phone to smithereens should he even attempt a text!” Damaris called to my back.

  Laughing, I turned my head and started to say something extremely witty back to her, but what came out was, “Eeeeeek!”

  Tripping over the raised edge of an unseen rut on my path, I flew headlong into the ditch. I do remember the thought flashing across my brain that the poltergeists at this accursed farmstead have finally gotten me, but then my head bounced off a good-sized rock lying in wait beneath the brittle, dead grasses in the muddy ditch.

  I blacked out.

  Chapter XXI

  “Bad To The Bone” by George Thorogood and the Destroyers

  Thanksgiving, 11/22/12

  8:00 AM

  Lying with my eyes closed, I could tell by the smells that I was in the barn and on the large sofa.

  I hadn’t been knocked silly in the ditch for longer than a second, but I was rattled by this latest head bouncing and my body felt skinned up. I was lucky that it was my cranium that made contact with the rock, instead of a more vulnerable body part, but maybe the constant head injuries I’d received lately had rendered me incapable of being the best judge. I knew one thing; rather than answer questions, it felt too good to quietly lay with my head on Damaris’ lap in the back seat of the car and have my forehead gently stroked by a mother’s cool fingers while John drove us to the barn.

  So after verifying I lived, I played possum.

  John’s busy fingers must have texted Luke because he met the car at the ramp. I peeped to verify Luke was not running around dressed in his towel loin cloth. He was wearing sweats and a T-shirt. I kept my eyes closed when he gathered me carefully into his arms and carried me into the barn.

  His fingers stroking my forehead were warm and I sighed. Along with my dignity in the tumbling fall, I’d lost the momentum of my determination to shout my love from the rooftops the minute I saw Luke. Aware of the hovering audience now, I felt a little tongue-tied.

  So I did the only thing I could do when feeling a little shy and uncertain.

  That’s right; I gave him a hard time.

  Fluttering my eyelashes, I tossed my head and said with a fretful frown, “Why do I keep seeing a wet towel and the color bright orange, Luke? Make it go away, it’s hurting my head.”

  Damaris and Paul murmured in sympathy off to the side while I heard a sharp intake of breath from behind Luke. My Love was sitting on the edge of the leather sofa at my side and Svettie was hovering behind him. Even before I opened my eyes, I could feel her glowering down at me. Luke’s fingers hesitated for the merest moment on my forehead.

  “Where’s Svetlana? Is she here?” I waved a hand in agitation and looked around unseeingly. “I want Svetlana!”

  She stepped forward a little, nervously tightening the belt of her orange robe, and responded warily, “I am here, An-a-bel.”

  “Oh good! Come here closer, please. Yes, lower your head like that. I just want to say…,” with a sharp flick of my wrist, I slapped her smartly across the face, “that we’re far from even.”

  Holding her red cheek, a shocked Svettie jumped back while crying out in pained anger. “Everyone, did you see that! Luke, vy is she slapping me?”

  John gave a sharp yip of laughter and Svettie glared at him hatefully before running over to seek comfort from Damaris and Paul. They were both wearing identical composed expressions of neutrality, but I saw Damaris’ lip quiver while she absently patted Svettie’s arm.

  Looking up, I met Luke’s veiled eyes and asked sweetly, “Yes, why did I slap poor little Svetlana?”

  John, pacing like a caged lion in front of the sofa, put in cheerfully, “My guess is you have a concussion again.”

  Luke said softly, “No John, like I told you before, she’s always this way.” Without taking his gaze from mine, Luke added, “Will you all excuse us and give Anabel and me some privacy?”

  Damaris spoke briskly, “Of course, son. Come along, Svetlana. You need to get dressed, anyway. What are you thinking wearing a summer robe outside?” She stopped by the sofa and squeezed my hand briefly. There was an enigmatic smile on her narrow, elegant face. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt too badly today, Anabel.”

  I tore my gaze from Luke’s to smile ruefully up at his mother. “It’s that fighting spirit at work.”

  “I see that,” Damaris answered drily and I giggled. Svetlana huffed loudly and marched angrily out of the man-cave. Her white fur boots scuffed noisily on the cement and her bright orange robe barely reached mid-thigh. Seen from behind, I couldn’t help noticing her legs were so thin that she’s bowlegged.

  ‘Hey, I’m not being catty; it’s just a factual observation!’ I smirked along with the laughing, hooting voices in my head. ‘If I was being catty, I’d say something about the old growth forest around her Kamcha-chatka region.’ The voices loved that one.

  John and Paul followed behind the departing Russian women. I heard Paul say on a sigh, “I suppose I should talk to the poor girl.”

  I rolled my eyes inside and now understood where the patience in Luke originated.

  Damaris said evenly, “Not until the poor girl gets dressed properly, dearest.”

  I smiled inside and now understood where the brains in him originated, as well.

  Paul only sighed louder and complained, “See how she ruins all my fun?”

  John chuckled and slapped Luke’s dad on the back as they left the room.

  I glanced back at Luke to see him ignoring all this chatter. His black, satanic eyebrows were almost touching in the middle.

  Before leaving, Damaris tapped Luke on the shoulder to get his attention.

  Looking down into her son’s face, Damaris smiled. “I received a call. The missing witness showed up this morning. She’d left town without word to help a sick relative.”

  Luke nodded and squeezed his mother’s hand affectionately. “That’s good news.”

  I kept a bland look on my face, since I wasn’t sure if Damaris knew Luke had told me of Svettie’s legal circumstances, but this was great news. It meant the Russian crime boss wasn’t killing off witnes
ses before the trial of his money man. Svettie wasn’t in imminent danger of dying. Not that I cared if she got picked off, but for a killer to get her, they’d have to get through Luke first. That I did care about.

  Stumped for a second, I realized it also meant I’d have to find a way to call off Godmother Jamie’s Helter Skelter grapevine now that the threat was gone. Or did I? Maybe Ron Hansen seeking revenge somehow was not that crazy of an idea and I should let the town stay vigilant on our behalf. I could tighten up the specific reporting parameters and avoid the men seeking hookers. After I picked Luke’s brain and did some research on how to run a surveillance group, the whole town could become my personal network of field operators for all sorts of fun purposes. I decided to think about my megalomaniacal idea for a while before making a decision.

  Right now, I was alone with Luke Drake for the first time since I’ve discovered I loved him and this needed my undivided attention. He was not looking very happy.

  “Do you feel okay enough to talk?” Luke asked, and his voice was very cool. He didn’t refer to what his mother said and I liked that he took for granted I understood the significance of what it meant. Or maybe he didn’t care if I did. He really did look mad.

  When I nodded, Luke stood up and crossed his arms. He stared at me steadily and a muscle jumped in his cheek.

  He got right to the point. “You said you would not kick Svetlana’s ass.”

  I winced and sat up. Swinging my legs to the floor, I brushed some dried grass and mud off my sweat pants while I collected myself at his words. This was not what I expected him to say and I was dismayed to see him truly angry. I held back the hurt his concern for Svettie caused in me. It was harder to hold back the images of seeing Svettie strip her clothes off before him, as if he was a God who’s feet she longed to worship at in adulation. Then I laughed grimly at my thoughts. Didn’t I want to do the same thing? Maybe every woman Luke came in contact with wanted to do this for him.