Play at Soul's Edge

by Sophia Amador

  Then he told himself he must not cry, and the tears dried up. He tried to slide his hands out of the zip ties, but they were clamped over his wrists too tightly.

  He thought of going out the kitchen door to get help, but he couldn’t reach the doorknob. He thought of flicking the light switch on and off to signal a neighbor, but it was also out of reach. He shouted for help, but no one came.

  So he methodically attempted once more to slip his hands out of the zip ties. He worked and worked at it for a long time, as the whimpers and cries from the living room gradually became fainter and fainter until they stopped altogether.

  When they finally found five-year-old Adrian the next morning, still handcuffed to the chair in the kitchen, the soft skin of his wrists was so battered it looked like raw meat. The chair arm was covered in blood.

  Much later, they told him his family was dead, but he didn’t cry. He never cried again.

  Adrian buried his nose in Elisa’s waterfall of wavy hair, spread across the pillow. To think it had once been all a whim. He had long thought Elisa was attractive, with her lush curves and luminous skin. He had been drawn to her quick, sharp wit. But for so long she had been a rival, nothing more. She had nothing he wanted. As a rule, he stayed away from the more straitlaced girls. Why waste his valuable time convincing someone to give him what was freely available from so many others?

  But something had changed at the beginning of the school year. Despite her prim wardrobe and innocent mannerisms, Elisa had begun to exude an unconscious sensuality. He found himself noticing the flash of sunlight over her mass of auburn curls, the swing of her slender hips, the swell of her breasts beneath her demure blouses. Every time she walked by she had stirred him.

  It no longer seemed a waste to spend time with her.

  Most people were boring; their motivations were selfish, straightforward, and transparent. They were so easy to manipulate. So easy to predict. To twist.

  But Elisa kept surprising him. Intriguing him. Her sudden turn to what she thought was the dark side was a prime example. He wasn’t sure whether to be amused or worried.

  And there was something about her that kept bringing up odd feelings within him, flashes of memory from long ago that he had thought well sealed.

  His mother had been a kind, sweet person.

  He frowned and shifted in the bed, curling himself more tightly around Elisa as she slept.

  In the past, he had always felt a vague letdown after he slept with someone, a feeling that somehow, they had not measured up. He had always assumed that he simply grew bored quickly with his lovers. But his feelings for Elisa had, if anything, become more intense after last night.

  He had found himself wanting to pleasure her, to give her joy, to make her first experience one of wonder, not merely to gratify his own ego, but for her. And now all he wanted was to repeat the occasion, to build on it, over and over again. For the first time in his life, sex had been more than a performance, more than merely a giving and taking of pleasure. It had transcended all of these and had taken his thoughts and emotions in entirely new directions. He had found himself considering what would be best for another human being besides himself. As she lay in his arms, he struggled with the strange and unknown feeling that he wanted to share everything he had with another person.

  He lifted his face up to the first light of dawn and found himself smiling. Why should he deny himself this new joy? He had always gotten whatever he wanted, whatever the cost. Why should he not get what he wanted now?

  But it would be dangerous. For the first time a chill swept through him at the thought of danger. Not to himself; he had lived with risk for so long it no longer mattered. But Elisa would be plunged into ever greater peril from both his enemies and his own subordinates.

  A fierce conviction welled up in him. He would protect her at any cost. At all costs. Those who even attempted to hurt her would be punished. He would burn, maim, kill, do utterly anything to keep her safe, regardless of the consequences.

  His train of thought halted, his fury abruptly quenched.

  Would she want him to?

  Ordinarily, he would simply manipulate or force anyone who disagreed with him into wanting exactly what he wanted. But he did not want to manipulate Elisa.

  He wanted her to know him. To know his true self, down to the core. To love the person he actually was. As an equal. A partner.

  Was it even possible?

  Could she love his true self?

  Of course, he could go legit. Assuming he could get out from under the arrangements he had made with some very bad, very powerful people.

  He had always known that with sufficient capital and connections, he could rack up profits while staying on the reputable side of the law, something that would not have been possible had he remained a poor child from the slums of Rockton. His lips twisted briefly. Despite the constant media blather about rags to riches stories, the so-called American dream was a myth perpetuated by the rich to keep the poor docile. In reality, the poor had no chance to move up unless they broke the rules. Adrian had no choice. He had to make the decisions he had. He hadn’t wanted to deal drugs at first. But what other choice did a powerless boy have?

  How did Balzac put it? “Behind every great fortune lies a great crime.” With wealth one could buy legitimacy and respectability. He could list the stories of the great American entrepreneurs, all their sordid pasts, the subtle and blatant cheating, deceit, even murder that had been committed, and how it was all washed clean by the flood of wealth. He would follow in their illustrious footsteps.

  He had once planned to first complete his Ivy League college education. There he would gain the legitimate business connections that would catapult him to the top of the business world. And there, he had long assumed that he would find a daughter of a rich, powerful family, woo her, marry her, and make himself indispensable to the rulers of the family, insinuating or threatening his way to an executive position in the family business. It would be the fastest way to acquire control over billions.

  Elisa slept peacefully beside him in the morning light. Her face, in repose, was exquisite—burnished lashes laying dark gold filigree across her cheeks, delicate breaths parting her lips rosy in the sunrise.

  It would be boring, after all. Too easy, to marry into money. How much more challenging, more satisfying, to build that huge fortune all on his own, pitting only his wits and cunning against the business world. Why should he tie himself to an inferior, waste time and energy manipulating them? How infinitely preferable it would be to make his choice of companion based on his own desires, on intellectual compatibility, on beauty—on love.

  He stroked Elisa’s cheek. She murmured something unintelligible.

  He rolled over and stared at the ceiling. He had deliberately created a particular persona for himself as leader of Tenebras, his only goal to exercise control over the violent and aggressive members of his gang. He had built up and nurtured that persona to be a figure of fear and dread, larger than life, almost supernatural in his abilities and inclinations. As Machiavelli had said, it was better to be feared than loved.

  But what could he do now, if he wanted to be loved after all? What would be her reaction when she found out that her boyfriend was actually the dreaded “Captain” of Tenebras? Could she accept it?

  And could he get free from his entanglements? Or would they kill him—and Elisa?

  Elisa

  She woke up warm.

  That never happened. She usually awakened curled up in a tight ball, freezing beneath the covers. For some reason she could never get warm in the early mornings. But today, she was enfolded in Adrian’s arms. His heat surrounded her, and the deep, slow beating of his heart thumped against her cheek. Elisa’s face was pressed to the muscles of his bare chest, her fingers tangled in his messy hair, his curls soft against her skin.

  She was completely naked, lying in bed with a dangerous man.

  She tingled all over. She was a little sore i
n an unusual place, but even that simply made her vibrate like a tuning fork. Then she noticed something else. She always awoke with her mother’s or Carlos’s voice in her ears, scolding her about all the things she had done wrong the day before.

  Today there was silence.

  Last night she had violated just about every rule she had been brought up with. She had given her virginity away. And to someone who admitted he was hiding something. But instead of guilt, she felt only exhilaration. Adrian’s dark secret intrigued and thrilled her. Rationally, she should be afraid. But deep in her heart, something sang with joy.

  16

  Elisa

  THE BED DIPPED and creaked, and Adrian fitted himself around Elisa. He nuzzled his mouth into the back of her neck. His lips traced the delicate skin just under her hairline, sending tingling streaks across her bare shoulders and throat. She wasn’t used to sleeping in the nude; the sheets rubbed the soft hair along her pubic bone. All the sensations bombarding her felt odd. Erotic. A word she normally never used.

  “Mmmm,” he said. His lips vibrated against the fine hairs at the nape of her neck. “It’s more wonderful than I could’ve imagined, waking up in bed beside you. We’ll have to do this more often.”

  It might be nice to stay in bed and explore these new experiences. But she wasn’t sure exactly how she felt. Warm and happy, yes. Thrilled, yes. But also a little embarrassed and not at all ready for a morning-after talk.

  So she jumped out of bed. “Dibs on the shower!” This was the first time she’d ever been completely naked when she got out from under the covers. “Brr!” She shivered and ran into the bathroom.

  “I’d call foul, but that is one fine ass you’re shaking as you monopolize the facilities,” he called. She laughed and locked the door.

  By the time she finished showering she had gathered enough courage to leave the bathroom and face him again. She slid open the door and smelled the unmistakable scent of something rich and savory frying. She found Adrian in the kitchen, leaning casually against the stove, a spatula in his hand. He was completely dressed and as elegant and immaculate as ever. Four eggs, their glossy yolks bubbling, were sizzling in her largest skillet, and several slices of bacon were spattering away in her second-largest. Her stomach rumbled.

  She leaned against the doorjamb. “Wow, you cook, too?”

  “One of my many secrets.” He flipped the bacon over with a pair of tongs.

  Her insides clenched. She didn’t want to hear his secrets. Not today, not so soon. For some reason, she remembered her flight of fantasy in the cafeteria, when he had threaded his fingers around her neck and squeezed, absolutely no expression in his eyes.

  “How do you like your eggs?” he asked.

  “It’s no secret I like them sunny side up,” she said. “Although I do have a fondness for over easy on alternate Thursdays.”

  “Sunny side up it is.” He tipped the skillet, spooned hot melted butter over the yolks. His movements were sure and practiced. “How are you feeling?” he asked after a short silence.

  She glanced away. “I’m fine, Adrian. I feel terrific.” She wasn’t lying, but she couldn’t bear to think about it in detail right now. It was just too much. He had swept into her life the way he drove, fast and aggressive, thrilling and illicit, and changed so many things. Part of her wanted to rush after him, to follow wherever he led, but another part needed to jam on the brakes.

  He arched a brow at her non-response but didn’t probe further. She puttered around, getting out knives and forks. Bread popped out from the toaster, and Adrian slid the eggs and bacon onto a couple of her chipped plates.

  He set the dishes on the rickety card table. “Breakfast is served.”

  She sat across from him, avoiding his eyes, and stared at her food instead. The egg yolks gleamed golden in the morning light, the lacy brown edges of the whites bubbling gently. The bacon lay drained on a paper towel, completely crispy, not charred or soggy anywhere. It smelled mouthwatering and her stomach growled in anticipation. She picked up a slice of bacon with thumb and forefinger, crunched it between her teeth, and had to close her eyes at the roasty, rich flavor that suffused her mouth. It was so utterly satisfying she moaned a little.

  He chuckled. “The way to a woman’s heart.”

  “...is through her mouth?”

  His eyes were hooded. “As well as other places. I don’t think I’ve ever seen lips so glistening and tasty as yours.” He licked a crumb off one of his. Then he deliberately swept his pointed tongue from corner to corner of his mouth, making her remember exactly what he had done with it last night.

  Elisa blushed. Wasn’t she supposed to stop doing that, now that she was a woman and no longer innocent? Now that she was a rule-breaker, a fallen soul? She swirled a piece of buttered wheat toast in the yolk and scooped it into her mouth to cover up any trace of embarrassment. Bad girls weren’t supposed to be ashamed, were they?

  Toast. Wait. “I didn’t think I had any fresh bread left. Nor any eggs.”

  Adrian inclined his head but said nothing. She ran to the refrigerator and yanked it open.

  Her shelves were bursting with fresh produce, leafy red and green kale sticking out from the crisper drawer, two dozen eggs nestled neatly in their cups in the refrigerator door, butter and cream and six pomegranates perched on the top shelf, and just beneath them a net bag of mandarin oranges with green leaves still attached.

  She gaped at Adrian out the pass-through window. “What happened?”

  “I guess if I said magic you wouldn’t believe me.”

  She scowled at him.

  “Too bad you’re not more gullible. It’s easier when people believe everything I say.” His voice was lazy and amused.

  She lowered her brows, and he rotated his hands palm upwards with a mock sigh. “All right. I was up early and ordered some groceries. Paying you back for your kindness giving me a home for the night.”

  “You didn’t need to do that.”

  “I don’t need to do anything. I do whatever I choose. And today, I chose to give you a gift.”

  It would have been rude of her to protest any further. “Thank you.” She opened another cupboard and sucked in her breath. “My favorite organic pastry flour!” There were not one but three bags of the sinfully expensive flour she adored baking with because it felt like silk under her fingers.

  Her guts twisted. How much did this all cost? “Adrian, I—”

  Suddenly she was afraid, so afraid that something terrible would happen if he told her. She closed the cupboard. “This is terrific!” she said brightly. “Thank you so much!”

  Adrian set down his fork. “Aren’t you going to—”

  She panicked. “No, I don’t need to know.” She pushed her chair back from the table. “Besides, we have to get ready for school, don’t we?”

  “Elisa, listen—”

  “No!” She jumped up and put her fingers in her ears. “I’m not listening, la, la, la, la…” She backed away toward the bedroom. “Too busy loading my books into my school bag, la, la, la.”

  He shook his head, laughing. “All right. Have it your way.”

  His cell phone rang. He glanced at the number on the front and his smile faded, but he put the phone to his ear. “Yes.”

  So much authority compressed into one single syllable. Elisa grabbed the doorframe to steady herself, realizing she was trembling.

  There was a short silence. “On my way,” Adrian said curtly. He rose from the table. “I’m sorry, I need to go. See you at school?”

  “I’ll walk you downstairs,” she said, her heart still beating rapidly.

  It was a chilly, overcast morning. Adrian took her in his arms and kissed her. His lips lingered on hers, warm and sweet as butter and honey. “Elisa,” he said softly, cupping her face in his hands, “what happened last night meant a lot to me. I’m sorry to have to leave so soon. Forgive me?”

  He zoomed away from the curb with his usual abandon. Where he was going, wh
at he was doing, she didn’t want to know. She felt those long fingers around her throat once again and she heard the fortuneteller’s voice creaking. “You are in danger. The shadow has him…”

  Ben

  The alarm clock rang, and Ben reached up to silence it. He dragged himself out of bed. The dance the night before had been miserable.

  He skipped breakfast, saying a quick goodbye to his father. Then he was out on the street in the chill air, running to Elisa’s apartment building. He didn’t know yet what he would say, but somehow he would convince her of the danger Adrian posed.

  He skidded to a stop as he rounded the corner onto Elisa’s block. To his horror, he realized that Adrian and Elisa were embracing on the sidewalk outside her front door. They parted, and Elisa waved cheerily to Adrian as he strode to a car parked at the curb and sped off.

  Ben’s entire body tensed. Had the bastard actually spent the night with Elisa?

  His feet carried him forward; he ran to Elisa as she stood there on the sidewalk, not even wearing a jacket, seemingly oblivious to the early-morning cold, still gazing after the car.

  “Elisa,” he gasped, coming to a stop a few feet away.

  She whirled, the fear in her eyes becoming relief when she recognized him. “Ben,” she said. Her voice sounded even warmer and more lovely than usual. “What are you doing here so early in the morning?”

  “I—needed to talk to you about something important,” he said, still out of breath.

  Then he stopped. He couldn’t help himself. “Was that Adrian Salas I saw driving away just now?” He couldn’t keep an angry note out of his voice.

  To his chagrin, Elisa blushed at his words. “Yes, it was,” she said very quickly, not meeting his eyes. “His aunt wouldn’t let him in the house last night, so he asked if he could sleep on my couch, and I said yes.” Her face grew bright red, and she wrung her hands together.

  Ben shook his head. Something more than Adrian innocently sleeping on her couch last night had happened. “Elisa,” he began, “Salas really isn’t good for you. He’s just not safe.”