by Eve Langlais
“First off,”—his hand cupped her chin to bring her gaze up to meet his—“you are not nobody. You are Princess Ariel, survivor of the sea and snake, vanquisher of the fake repair person.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I could have done without the reminder.”
“It’s to show you that you are a fighter. You keep persevering.”
“I am muddling along, trying to figure out who I am. And failing. The person you just described isn’t real.”
“You feel real to me.”
She glanced at his face. He had his entire focus on her. It pleased and discomfited at once. What did he see when he looked at her? Because when Ariel looked in a mirror, she barely recognized the face. How had she gotten the scar on her belly? What of the one on her arm?
“What if I don’t like myself?” she admitted.
Hugo could have said many supportive things at that point, but he said the one thing that had her squaring her shoulders instead. “Don’t be a coward. If it turns out you don’t, then fix it. You don’t give up.”
Her chin lifted. “You’re right.” Why was she waiting for a revelation to find her? She was strong. She could do this.
Ariel strutted back out into the main bar area, her gaze tracking the room, looking for the woman who’d stared at her. One thing nagged her.
If they were acquainted, and Ariel had been missing, surely a friend of hers would have rushed over to check on her welfare.
The woman was gone, and she felt foolish. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
Hugo squeezed the fingers she had on his biceps with his free hand. “Don’t stress about it.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“It is. But I am sure you can worry enough for the both of us.” He was non-apologetic as he walked them back into the private lounge filled with eight men and two women, one of them a waitress in black and white, bringing them drinks.
At least she wouldn’t be the only female at the party. Gang-bangs were only fun in the movies. In real life, chafing started at number three.
She blinked.
Ariel didn’t want to know how or why she remembered something like that.
The other female sat in the back, phone in hand, not paying the room any attention. She had her blond hair shaved on the sides and back, but long on top. Her tight shirt showed off an enviously sized bosom and ample cleavage.
A man rose from a table and waved. “Hugo.” The guys strode for each other in the manner those who are old friends do. There was some back-slapping and a handshake. Then an enthusiastic back and forth about how things had been and comments on Hugo’s luck in living in paradise.
She tilted her head and looked at the man. The name came to her tongue a mere second before Hugo said it.
“Ariel, I’d like you to meet an old acquaintance of mine, Mason. Mason, this is Ariel.”
She liked that he didn’t mention the fact that Ariel wasn’t her real name. She held out her hand, and Mason hesitated only a beat, barely a second, and yet she noticed it.
“Ariel, is it? Lovely to meet you.”
“Have we met before?” she asked boldly. “You seem familiar.”
Brow creased, Mason glanced at Hugo instead of her, as if asking for permission to speak.
It was at that moment that they were interrupted.
A woman with smooth, dark skin grabbed Mason’s arm. “There you are. I need to speak with you. About your fiancée.” A heavy French accent rolled the consonants.
“Hey, Marie. Is everything all right with Audrey?”
“She’s fine. But you need to come chat with me. It’s been too long, mon petit chou.”
Mason shrugged as he was dragged off.
Whereas, Hugo frowned. “I wonder who that woman is. I don’t believe I’ve ever met her before.”
Given that Marie was gorgeous, Ariel could see why he would be interested. It didn’t make her words any less tart. “Then maybe you should go after her,” she snapped.
He glanced at her. “Why?”
And that quickly, her jealousy evaporated. She was acting crazy. “That man. Who is he?”
“Mason. Who I might add is practically married with a kid.”
“I thought he acted oddly.”
“Did he?”
She frowned. “As if he knew me but pretended not to. Why would he do that?”
“The only reason I can think of has you as ex-lovers.” That brought a scowl to his lips. “That would be unfortunate.”
“Meaning?”
He glanced down at her. “Nothing. Shall we tour the room and see if anything else jogs your memory?”
“I’d rather leave. You do realize there’s hardly any women here.”
“Give it a few more minutes. The entertainment is about to start.” He angled for the stage.
She understood the implication. “You brought me to a strip show?” she hissed. She wasn’t sure if she was outraged or titillated.
“They don’t just strip. They dance, too. But don’t worry, they’ll mostly be harassing, Philip, the groom-to-be.”
“You brought me to a bachelor party?” She couldn’t help the incredulous tone.
He smiled. “I did.”
She could have freaked out more, but then she remembered what he’d said about choosing how she wanted to be. The type of woman who hid and whined from the world, or the kind that boldly prepared to watch women strut their stuff on a stage. With her hand on his arm, and her head held high, she found it easier than expected to mingle as Hugo said “hello” to a few more people in the room. Including some guy called Devon who was dating the bride’s best friend. From the sounds of it, she had a few close gal pals who’d all come for the destination event.
It made Ariel wonder if she had a circle of close female friends. Or did she have a cat? What if she owned a bunch of them and because she was missing, they starved?
“What’s wrong?” Hugo asked. “You got this holy-shit look on your face.”
“Do I look like a cat lady to you?”
“Nah.”
She sighed.
“Maybe dogs, but more like goats. I’ll bet you raise those little goats that are so popular these days and dress them in pajamas.” He said it quite seriously.
“Not funny.”
“Only because you fear it might be true.”
He deserved the glare.
The lights flickered and dimmed, the show about to start. He led her to a table off to the side at the back. She appreciated the discrete location but liked, even more, the glasses of wine he ensured kept coming. He had his back to the stage, not even turning his head when the music started.
A dancer strutted out, her white dress skin-tight and showcasing a lovely figure. She wore a mask over her tanned features and a fluffy boa around her neck.
Marie stood from her table and began moving for the stage. Perhaps she wanted a closer peek.
The woman on the stage looked right out over the front rows, and Ariel could have sworn she sought her out. In that moment, she knew it was the same woman she’d seen earlier, the one who’d been staring at her.
Back again now. Staring once more. Her fingers moved intricately in a pattern that felt familiar. Some kind of dance move, maybe? She almost wanted to reply but kept her hands tucked in her lap.
Movement at the back of the stage drew her eye to a face peeking from the curtains, the shape of the nose, the lips, the hair…
Audrey.
The name came and stayed. But no other context with it. And probably a guess, given Ariel had heard that guy Mason mention it earlier.
The woman on stage was joined by another and another, which seemed confusing until she realized they all had significant others in the crowd. The dancers, who never stripped, were helped off the stage, and much laughter arose as they all began to mingle with the men.
Hugo smirked. “Happens every single time.”
“You expected the party to get crashed.”
“It’s become a bi
t of a tradition.”
“Who are the bride and groom?” she asked.
“The one wearing the crown in that guy’s lap.”
“Duh,” she exclaimed. “I meant names.”
He leaned closer. “Are you sure you don’t know?”
She scanned the couple again. “They don’t even seem vaguely familiar.”
“I don’t know the bride myself. I’m an old friend of her grandfather’s and the groom.”
Her gaze kept darting from face to face, and it didn’t help that she kept seeing them staring right back. But none approached.
None of them knew her. She imagined things.
It became too much. She rose. “I need to leave. My head hurts.” She didn’t wait for a reply but fled, and only as she reached the sidewalk outside, did she notice that Hugo had followed.
He tucked her hand back on his arm. “It will be a minute before the car comes around.”
“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t leave the party. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m not big on parties, and I think you need me more right now. You remembered something.”
She wrinkled her brow. “No, not really, but I swear all those people were watching me. It’s probably me being paranoid, but it was driving me nuts.”
A woman stepped outside, the one in the white dress. The bride. “Hey, you guys all right?” she asked, but her gaze was on Ariel.
“Fine.” Ariel faked a smile. “Congrats on the wedding. When’s the big day?”
“Tomorrow,” the woman said, still eyeing her.
“I am sure it will be beautiful.” The valet brought the car, and she practically leaped into it. Anything to avoid the woman’s dark gaze.
It made her head throb even harder.
Hugo joined her, sliding into the driver seat, but waited until they pulled away to say, “I don’t think you’re crazy anymore.”
“I never knew you did,” she grumbled.
“That woman was eyeballing you something fierce.”
“Right? But if she knows me, why didn’t she say anything?”
“Gee, I don’t know, because maybe it would ruin your cover,” he drawled.
“Oh my God, are we back on the I’m-faking-it thing again?” Ariel snapped. “If you think I’m such a liar, then stop this car.”
“Please, like you’re going to get out.” He slowed to a stop and smirked.
She got out of the car and began to walk.
He kept pace with the windows open so he could talk. “It isn’t going to work.”
“I can’t believe you still think I’m lying.”
“That woman knew you.”
“If you think that, then why don’t you turn that car around and go ask her?” She planted her hands on her hips.
“Maybe I will.”
“Do it. I dare you.”
Rather than reply, his tires screamed as he u-turned in the road. He drove away, and her shoulders slumped.
He really did think she was a liar. He should also add idiot to that list. She had no idea where she was. No money. Nowhere to go. And she’d pissed off the one person being nice to her.
Not the only one, actually. But she didn’t want to ask Pierrot for help.
The noise of the neighborhood surrounded: radios playing clashing songs, people talking, televisions blaring. There were people still outside, leaning against the wall, smoking cigarettes. A man walking his dog.
The footsteps shadowing her.
She was being paranoid again.
Hugging her body, she walked a little faster, and that served as the trigger to have her surrounded by three men, their pants hanging low on their hips, their upper bodies barely covered by tank tops, their inked artwork on display. They smiled at her, one with a gleaming golden tooth. But it wasn’t friendly, more in line with a predator about to bite.
“Hey, baby, whatcha doin’?”
The smart thing wasn’t to encourage them, and yet her mouth moved before her brain stepped in. “Well, hello there, sugar.” The drawl emerged in full force. “I don’t suppose you nice boys could help a girl out? I seem to be lost.”
One of them straightened his slouch, and surprise etched is face. “Er, you can come to my place. It’s not far.”
“That’s awfully kind, sugar.” She poured on the sweetness. “But I’m just looking for a bit of money to get me a cab and a hotel for the night.”
“I know how you can earn it.” The one with the golden tooth leered and grabbed. She danced out of reach.
“Not out here.” Her heart raced as she did the one thing she knew she shouldn’t. She entered a dark alley with three strangers who expected sex.
Surely, she wouldn’t do something like that, not even for money. When they crowded close, she wagged a finger. “A woman my age likes to take her time. One at a time,” she emphasized. “Don’t worry, you’ll each get a turn.”
It felt as if she watched from outside her body as she led the first of them behind a stack of crates.
The stench of piss rose from the ground. A moment later, the guy who thought he was going first ended up with his face smothered against it. Her body moved without her even thinking, grabbing him by the head and yanking him down to meet the rapid thrust of her knee, his sharp cry covered by her fake moan.
He went limp, and she stood over his slumped frame. Not dead she realized, given his chest rose and fell, but she’d done something to him.
She looked at her hands.
Her killer hands.
Who was she?
A woman about to be in trouble, because she heard one of them shouting. “Hurry up, my balls are gonna burst.”
Ariel dropped to her knees, not to help but to rifle through pockets for a bit of change. Not even enough to buy a meal. She grimaced.
She eyed the crates, knowing two more of them stood on the other side.
Could she do it again?
Only one way to find out.
She leaned around the corner and crooked a finger.
The second one came in fast, his lips wet, and his eyes bright. He stumbled on his friend’s body, and before he could cry out, her hands were moving again. Too fast for her to grasp. Doing things she was pretty sure she’d never even seen in films. Soon, thug number two landed on his unconscious friend.
Rifling through his pockets, she discovered that he had barely more than the first guy. The third one had enough to maybe get her a room for the night, and she tucked it into her bra before emerging from the alley. She glanced left and right, in time to see low-slung headlights creeping up the street.
The luxury car stopped, and the passenger door opened.
“Get in,” Hugo barked.
“Did you get an answer?”
“No.”
“Then why come back?”
His gaze locked on hers. “Because I’m a sucker for pain. Get. In.”
Rather than tempt the fates, she threw herself into the car. He put it in drive before glancing over at her.
“You’re okay? Nothing happened?”
Should she explain that she’d taken out three young men and robbed them, or play dumb? “Lovely night for a walk.” Pity, it did nothing for her headache. It throbbed worse than ever.
They spent the rest of the drive in silence and parted ways at the front door. She hurried to her room. Yet closing the door didn’t get rid of the tension in her.
She was restless and not the least bit tired. The incident in the alley should have frightened her, made her question what kind of person she was. Yet, adrenaline still coursed through her. She felt…brave.
She exited via the balcony doors, the meek part of her advising that she stay inside where it was safe. But Ariel was beginning to grasp that she was anything but meek. The fiery hair should have given that away.
The muggy air moistened her skin, the lack of a breeze not carrying it away. She lifted her face and sucked in a breath as she stared at the stars, so many of them dotting the sky until a cloud passed ov
erhead.
The world grew a bit darker. The lights of the garden provided only dim illumination. They created so many shadows wherein things could hide. She should go back inside. Instead, her feet took her to the pool.
One that had been drained while they were gone and showed brushes at the bottom, along with buckets. Getting resurfaced. The evidence of the death already gone.
She heard music coming from across the way and saw the flicker of a lantern, lit with a flame. Someone was out here.
The hot tub was set into the ground, and so it gave an unobstructed view of the sea. As she neared, she could clearly see the man sitting in it, his bare shoulders jutting up from the edge.
She didn’t realize she’d made a sound until Hugo said, “Care to join me?”
“I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” was her reply, rather than a straight no.
“Neither did I.”
It was only then that she noticed the pile of clothes by the lantern, the suit he’d worn for their outing in a neatly folded stack.
Again, the right thing to do would be to walk away. To leave this temptation alone.
She still had no idea if she was single or not.
Knew nothing about herself other than the fact that she might just be someone he should be leery of.
Her fingers acted of their own volition, untying the sash that kept the sarong part of the dress closed, then the inner clasp so it could slip off. He didn’t turn to look; however, he was aware. She could tell by the rigid set of his shoulders.
Her bra followed the dress, along with her shoes. She kept the thong on. She moved to the steps on his side, rather than those at the far end. There was no handrail to hold onto. She hesitated. What if she slipped?
“Let me help you.” He sprang to his feet in the warm water, shock in his gaze, but smoldering admiration, too.
She felt heat flushing her, not in embarrassment. She enjoyed that he stared. Heat blossomed between her legs, starting a dull throb.
He held her hand as she stepped into the hot tub, the water soothing, but not as warm as expected, and fragrant with some kind of scented oil that made her think of spices.