by Sana Abid
"Then how are we…" I swallowed hard. "How did we end up here?"
"Magic." He cracked his famous smile. "Not black magic, though."
"Magic," I repeated like a mindless parrot and swooned back, almost fainting at the word. "Is it too hot suddenly. Oh, my God, I can't breathe!"
"Viv!" Jay sprung up and before I knew it, he had his arms around me, patting my back. "Relax," he said in a hushed voice. "Sshh." I shivered naturally under his touch. What else could I do? My eyes squeezed shut as his hand on my back created a sort of rhythmic pattern when he stroked it, a poor attempt to calm me down. It had the exact opposite effect. How the hell could he expect me to relax when he was Jay Stonepelt? The Stonepelts practiced magic. Jay had magic.
"I want to go home," I managed to say between the air strangling me and Jay's tight embrace suffocating me.
"We can arrange that," he said as he pulled away, smiling. "I had a feeling this was a bad idea. My brother did say not to show and tell our magic to anyone." Under the sun, his skin glistened and, in return, burned my own. His long lashes would be the death of me.
"Then why did you?" I asked, reminding myself to breathe yet again. Inhale. Exhale.
A sheepish grin formed on his face as he stretched his arm back to scratch the nape of his neck. "It looked like you really needed that escape. I was just trying to help, but it's okay if you want to go—"
"Does everyone in your family have magic powers?" I asked with a sudden curiosity, biting my tongue. Did I really want to get sucked into his world?
Excitement blossomed on his face again. "Yes. My dad didn't though. Only my mom's side of the family. My great, great, great grandmother was a… witch. Heard of the Salem witches?"
I gulped. "Of course."
"Yeah. She luckily managed to keep her powers hidden and passed it on to her kids and the cycle continued."
"This is… wow." My mouth became too dry to speak, an acidic taste crawling its way up from the back of my throat. Was I about to throw up? Salem witches. Magic powers. What the hell.
"We should go back. You look sick."
"Yes." I pursed my lips.
"Plus, we've been here for a long time. Staying too long has its consequences."
CHAPTER 3
Everything was dark. I was awake, but my eyes were shut, burning as if they had caught a glimpse of the sun and stared at it too long at it. I remembered that I hadn't stared at the sun, but there was some sort of light. A very bright one.
Whatever it was strained the hell out of my eyes. My body protested to keep them shut, but my brain rebelled against it all. I cracked them open, spines of thick encyclopedias staring back at me as if they were waiting for me to gain consciousness. Encyclopedias. Hope's Café. Rain. The girl in bed with Ron. The fight.
"Jay," I remembered, turning my head to where he was.
Gone.
Jay Stonepelt: one of the two sons of Mary and Eric Stonepelt. After the death of his parents, Jay acquired the Stonepelt property, while his brother, Tate, moved to L.A. where he took over Stonepelt Co., which sells high-tech gadgets, computer software, and more. No one really knows how the Stonepelts died. Jay claimed they overdosed, drowned in a river, and were nowhere to be found. The town says that that was just a story.
Citizen Amy Shelpt swears the brothers murdered both their parents for their property and both of them are planning on dooming the entire world with their evil powers.
Police had searched the house and had investigated all that they could, but after no evidence found, the case had to be closed. After the death of his parents, Jay was rarely seen out in public again. If seen, he will probably not be recognized. However, Tate remains a public figure despite the conspiracy theories about him, and over the years, he has gained the trust of his customers, including nationwide buyers. Many believe the brothers were still up to no good. Many say underneath their skins, they looked like Slenderman; some say they had claws for hands and scissors for a tongue. Others say—
I stopped reading after the whole description about the Stonepelt brothers, exiting the tab on Google. Claws for hands? Scissors for tongues? That was excruciating to read, but it wasn't remotely the only thing that bothered me the most about the whole summary. It was the fact that they were suspects for their parents' disappearance. Sure, the police didn't find anything against them. That didn't mean the chances of them being great serial killers were zero. Like they knew magic, for God's sake, or so they claimed. Chills ran down my spine as I thought about both possibilities: one, Jay was a murderer, and I was touched by a murderer; two, even though Jay might not be a murder, he still had magic.
He was dangerous one way or another.
"Please, Viv," Ron pleaded, " you sure you want to—"
"First of all, stop calling me that. You never had before." I felt my jaw tighten. Only Jay could call me that. "Secondly, hell yeah, I want you out of my house." I pointed at the last cardboard box with my index, its nail perfectly polished from yesterday's manicure.
"It won't happen again. I swear, I'll change."
"Really?" I faked interest, raising my eyebrows as if his words actually affected me.
"Really." He smiled.
"I don't give a fuck." I rolled my eyes. "Leave the keys on the counters and get out. We're over."
You'd expect that after kicking Ron out my life, I was going to make a huge comeback with a smile so big, it'd look like the Great Wall of China was plastered on my face. You'd think I'd go to clubs, finally drown myself in alcohol. Play with other boys. You'd think that, but I didn't. Hell, I didn't even go out to get a pint of my favorite ice cream, cookie dough, to celebrate, now that Ron was out of my life. Nor did I submerge myself in the bathtub to relax with foamy bubbles. I just sat there on my cherry red sofa, cuddled deep within my comforter—the only comforting thing left in my life— as I blinked my bloodshot eyes at the TV. God, this was agonizing.
Another week went by, yet everything felt the same as it was before. Maybe even worse. My life was in a downward spiral, in a potential risk of being flushed down the toilet if I didn't do something about it. My job sucked because all I did was sit at the front desk of Miller Co. and deal with impatient, rude, insensitive people all day. And that included my jerk-face boss, Liam Miller, who always made me get his coffee whenever he saw me, when clearly, he had his own damn assistant. Were the words coffee machine stamped on my forehead? Maybe I should get them tattooed on there, so everyone would know what my job was at Miller Co.
Master's in Financial Analysis. Bachelor's in Management. Yet, I got hired as the receptionist. Why? I didn't know. I didn't know at all.
"Come on, your job could be worse. They hired you to be a receptionist because you have a pretty face that people want to be greeted with. Plus, you're like great with communication, right?" Coby the janitor shrugged as he scraped the spaces between his teeth with a toothpick's end.
"Yeah, helping people." I rolled my eyes before taking a bite of my usual hummus and egg sandwich. Damn it, it was cold. Putting it back in my lunch box, I wiped the sides of my mouth. "Not greeting insensitive jerks."
"You dealt with insensitive jerks all your life." Coby laughed. He was talking about himself. "At least you're getting paid for it now. It's better than cleaning—"
"Don't," I cut him off. "Not to be rude here, Coby, but you used to skip class in high school every day to go smoke with your friends. What job did you expect? You don't even have a GED, which you can still get by the way."
"Nah." He shrugged.
"Exactly. You're okay with what you have. And that's fine, but I'm not." I sighed.
"Then quit."
"Not right now. I will when the time is right." The words were mostly directed to me, but Coby smiled anyways and went back to work. I did too. But I was working in my head, finding a way—any way— to make my current situation better.
People came and left, and I gave them the warmest greetings and the nicest goodbyes. It was all automatic. I w
as a robot on auto-pilot mode whose every action was in favor of Liam's commands.
By the time I left the building, my jaw felt like it needed to be screwed on tighter, and my feet were on the edge of looking like a patch of bleeding blueberries with all the bruises that my high heels gave me. Every woman in Miller Co. had to wear nothing less than four-inch heels. My stomach was complaining because all I fed it were the two bites of my sandwich in the last six hours. And finally, my head wanted to crack open because it hurt too much from all the mental problem solving. Still, I had no idea what to do.
Jay Stonepelt reappeared. He came to my dreams last night. At first, my dream self didn't even know it was him until I saw that familiar green book that he had the day we first met. The room was dark with just a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling, the light so dim that it didn't unveil his face from all the blackness. Only the book showed. But I knew it was him for sure after he spoke.
He told me he can give me an escape.
"An escape from what?" I yelled back at him. I didn't know why I was yelling when he spoke in such a calm voice.
"Look around you. You're tied down."
I still couldn't see his face. But when I looked over to my sides, I saw thick ropes tightened around my wrist, nipping at my skin whenever I tried to slip out of them. "What the hell?" I struggled to free myself. "Why am I tied down? Let me go. Let me go."
"You tied yourself down, Vivian." He said my name in such a deep tone, it made me shiver even though my body felt like it was burning.
"Why would I tie myself down?" He didn't answer. I stared at his hands. His fingers were beautifully curled around the book. "Tell me," I begged.
"You already know," Jay said, and I imagined him shaking his head.
"Please," I croaked. "Help me."
"I could help you escape. Yes." A footstep meant he was closer. "Would you want that?"
"Yes." I breathed, stretching my neck to get a better view of him. But just as the light revealed his chin and a pair of light pink lips, the bulb exploded. Then, I couldn't make out anything. Not even the green book.
"Jay," I screamed. I feared he was gone, but right after, a hand cover my mouth, so warm against the icy air around us.
"Ssshh," he coaxed. "It's okay." He slipped his hand off me. In the dark, I felt his body press on to mine, half of his weight on me that got me to grunt. It felt so good. I sensed his hands working upward to where the ropes were. They tugged on them, again and again, until each time I felt freer than before.
"Hurry," I begged.
"I'm trying," he spoke into the side of my neck, burning my skin with his husky voice. It was all too much, the sudden pleasure to be tied down, the desire to be free, that my brain couldn't take it anymore. By the time Jay got the knots loose, I was already half awake, squeezing my eyes shut to continue whatever was left of the dream. I held Jay close to me when he freed me, and he patted my back in the same rhythmic pattern that he did before. I never felt happier in my life.
"Thank you," I told him. Maybe a tear felt. I didn't really remember. All I remembered was how saturated my mind and heart were of emotions.
"I didn't do anything." He pulled me away so he could cup my face. "You freed yourself."
"No, you helped me. Let me see you."
"Not yet." Then he kissed me.
My eyes flung open. What the hell?
CHAPTER 4
I last saw Jay seventeen days ago. Well, if you didn't count that dream. My cheeks flushed remembering most of it as I strolled down the sidewalk after office hours. Why did I even dream that? Ropes. The green book. Jay's hand. My brain couldn't wrap itself around the fact that my heart wanted more of Jay than just his hands. It didn't speak the same language as my heart. And I didn't understand the sole purpose of the dream. Was it that I felt tied down or was it that I wanted to be tied down… by him? One had a metaphorical context. The other was just terrifically erotic.
Shaking my head, I rushed past strangers and shops until I reached the very place where it all began. Hope's Café .
The scent of coffee hit me the minute I swung the door open. Unlike last time, there were fewer people inside. Less of everything. Laughter, conversations nodding, kissing, cuddling, enjoying. The only thing that was the same was the background music. The jingle that I struggled so hard to get out of my mind, blasted once more in my ears. Great.
"Hi, how can I— oh, hey, I remember you." Lisa smiled. "Black coffee, right?"
"Not today." I smiled back out of respect.
"I figured that's not why you're here." She raised a shoulder in a half-shrug before smirking. "He's not here."
"Who?" I played dumb. Was I really that easy to read like Jay had said?
"You know who."
"Oh." There was no point in hiding my disappointment.
"Jay is going to be out of town for quite some time." She gave me a sad smile.
I nodded, embarrassed. "Got it." Shit was I about to cry? Swallowing hard, I forced a smile.
"Are you okay?" She raised her brows in worry.
"Don't worry, it's fine." With one more nod, I scanned the place because my heart gave me a glimmer of hope that he might be here, and when I found absolutely nothing, I turned around and left.
After the encounter with Lisa, I began to miss Jay even more, day and night. I wondered what he was up to. Was he wandering off in another book with another girl? Could I be the only one? I doubted. Jay was insanely handsome, and from my personal experience, he had powers. Why would a guy like that ever want to be tied down to me and me only?
Tied down… I groaned, swallowed my bitter coffee, and tried to dust away any memories of the dream from my head. This was the worst place and time to get turned on. "Good morning and welcome to Miller Co. I'm Vivian Halls. How can I help you?" I was still zoned out when a man in a navy suit spoke. "Hm? I'm sorry. May you repeat that for me?"
"Sure." He smiled. "Tate Stonepelt. I have a meeting with Liam." Tate Stonepelt, I typed the name into the computer's system. The name sounded familiar. I blinked at the man whose face also looked so unrecognizable, yet so familiar at the same time. I ignored the eerie feeling that I knew him and picked up the phone to call Liam when the Devil himself showed up.
"Hey, Tate, you made it," my boss boomed, his arms wide open in front of him. However, Tate didn't return the gesture and turned his head only to take a glimpse of Liam before looking back at me. Those eyes, they reminded me of… oh shit. That's right. Jay Stonepelt. Tate Stonepelt. Brothers.
I mentally kicked myself for forgetting such an important piece of information. I needed to ask him about Jay. That is, if he knew anything about Jay. But how? How could I ask with Liam hovering over us like a big ugly hawk with his stupid mustache that looked like two hamsters were glued above his upper lip? I'd have to wait.
"How could I miss it?" Tate peered over his shoulder. "You got my attention with a very interesting deal."
"That's my boy!" Liam playfully smacked his shoulder. Then he turned to me. "Halls, get us some coffee from across the street. Hurry." I fought the urge to tell the rascal to tell his damn personal assistant to get the coffee because I needed to keep a good first impression in front of Tate, who looked an awful lot like his brother now that he was here in person.
"Sure thing," I chirped like a freaking blue jay.
"Nah, hold the coffee." Tate smiled at me as if he knew how much I was dreading to cross the street to buy coffee. We had our own coffee machine, for God's sake. And extra cream too.
"You sure, Tate?" Liam asked, appalled. Did Tate say blasphemy or something? I must've missed it. God, it was so hard not to roll my eyes.
"Yep, let's go, shall we?"
"As you wish. Halls, get me some coffee. Go."
How peachy. "Yes, sir."
Liam must be stupid if he thought I was actually going to cross the street and wait in a long line in these five-inch pumps all so he could enjoy a measly cup of soy latte with extra whipped cream at
the top. No sugar though, he's watching his weight. I wondered if he'd fire me if he ever figured out that I always brought him coffee from our lounge room. If he did fire me, I think I'd actually be grateful. My feet were killing me, and it wasn't even noon.
"Here you go, sir," I told him, placing the cup down on his coaster. It was such an ugly coaster with two roosters on them… fighting, I hoped.
"You may go." Liam gave me a dismissive wave before continuing his business proposal with Tate. Nodding, I turned for the door but stopped when I found Tate staring at me. What, did it show too much that I wanted to strangle Liam?
"Tate, are you even paying attention? Wait, hold up. I have to take this," Liam said and got up. "Halls, make sure you bring me those files I emailed you last night. I'll be back, Tate." Then he left the room to talk in the hallway, the door slamming shut behind him. Tate and I were alone.
"Doesn't he have an assistant to fetch him his shit for him?" Tate was a supporter of eye contact.
"He does." I sighed, pulling the hems of my tight brown skirt down. "I don't know why he's always telling me to do it. I do everything for him. Might as well let me be his assistant, at least the pay would be higher."
"Unless he has no assistant," Tate pointed out coolly.
"Huh?"
"Unless he has no assistant and makes you do everything. Saves him money big time."
"Oh, my god," I gasped when it hit me. "He's been—"
"Using you all this time? Yeah." Tate pressed his lips. My body began to tremble with anger, blood boiling and all that crap. "People like him exploit people like you. I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?" I asked.
"I don't know. I don't even know why I want to make a deal with him. Liam's ideas are old-fashioned and crappy. Look at you. All you girls are dolled up as if he wants to show off your bodies not your brains."
"Yes," I agreed. My throat itched to ask about Jay, but the timing was just off.
"My company's manager said that Miller Co.’s profits are going up, so I figured why not have a meeting?"