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Magic, Mystery & Zombies: YA starter set

Page 7

by Elle Klass


  Disgust twisted across her face and her eyes narrowed into slits. “I manage the catering company.”

  I sensed a strong bout of sarcasm and didn’t like her tone, something inside me clicked, as though she thought me beneath her, so I handed her my empty glass and hissed, “That’s great! I sure need a refill, you mind?”

  Her slitted eyes narrowed more beneath her straight eyebrows and her lips curled into a fake smile. “Sure.” A few minutes later she appeared with a new drink which she handed me.

  “Thank you so much.” The drippy sweetness drizzled off my tongue like cinnamon roll icing. Kamisha giggled at me from across the room. Just then a gentleman approached me, a photographer attempting small talk. I handed him the drink and excused myself to the restroom. I didn’t want the drink; my sixth sense told me she was bad news.

  You Don’t Belong

  The next day Kamisha, I and a couple other girls, Ashley and Sharl, set out to snorkel then relax on the beach. Joy and importance bubbled inside as I never in my life had a girl day. We wiggled our toes in the sand, passed sunscreen to each other, complemented one another’s bathing attire, and guy watched.

  A sizzling hunk, his muscles carved from the hardest stone, and sun-kissed blond coursing through his shoulder length chestnut hair, introduced himself along with his buff friends - each one sported muscles on their muscles. They were participating in a weightlifting competition, although my mind never heard the rest as the curvature of their arms, legs, and their entire packages enthralled me. Their suits left little to the imagination. It took effort to keep the drool inside my mouth instead of pooling in the sand beneath me.

  I caught the tail end of the conversation as the one with the largest bulge protruding from under his Speedo asked, “Around eight tonight at the… ” His voice trailed off as his brown come get-me-eyes met my bewildered gaze. The group of male demi gods sauntered off, but Protruding Speedo’s eyes, continued to linger on mine as he trailed away.

  “OMG, they were hot!” said Ashley, her face covered in pure lust.

  “Hot, honey.” Sharl air fanned herself. “They were flawless and I’m gonna have me one later!” Hunger dripped from every pore in her body.

  I scrunched my face in embarrassment. “Did Mr. Bulging Speedo…” They burst out in laughter, Ashley rolled in the sand resembling a powdered donut formed from a well-built female shaped cookie cutter. I hadn’t meant to say it, the words transported from my head and out my mouth.

  “I… I… ” I dropped to the sand joining Ashley in a fit of laughter.

  Sharl and Kamisha roared in laughter and rolled in the sand beside us, soon each of us resembled Ashley. I loved Paris but felt at home hanging with these girls in the Caribbean.

  Early evening we moseyed to our rooms. Potted tropical plants positioned between puffy couches and chairs filled the lobby. An unfamiliar voice called my name. “Justine?” I scanned the lobby to find the body the voice belonged to. A resort staff member walked towards me. “This was left at the counter for you.” She placed an envelope labeled Justine in my hand.

  “Thanks.” I assumed it was a message from Didier and placed it on the dresser for after my shower.

  Clean and eager to see what he left me, I tore into the envelope and unfolded a note. Something fell out and hit the floor, my picture, the lost or stolen one. In red smudged lipstick the note read You don’t belong.

  My heart beat fast while my mind put the clues together. The night before my picture disappeared, I thought I saw a shadow. Old fear and memories surfaced into my conscious. Slug wanted me dead, Frank Tomey killed Einstein as he risked his life to save mine, pushing me out of the way. I clutched the letter in my hand and jetted across the hall, knocking on Sam’s door. He answered immediately; my distress visible to him.

  “Justine, what’s wrong?” Speechless, I handed him the note. His eyes scanned it, then he shoved me into his room, entered the hallway closing the door behind him, after several minutes reappeared. “The hallway is clear, but you aren’t staying in that room. You will stay here in mine.” Sam called the front desk and Didier.

  I planted myself on the chaise to wait him out. He paced across the room and onto balcony several times pulling at his chin and right ear while he spoke. He put up with tons for my sake. When he finished making calls I asked, “Can we get a drink?”

  His eyebrows turned downward into a V. “A drink?”

  “Yup, my treat. You are always there behind the scenes and I don’t know you.”

  “A drink? Sure, sounds good.”

  He agreed without the hesitation I expected. Perhaps my idea hit the spot, or he was doing his job, keeping tabs on me. We headed downstairs to a bar.

  I plopped my bootie on a bar stool, Sam scanned the room before taking the stool beside mine. I ordered an Aruba Ariba for myself and a beer for Sam. “How did you get into this whole body guard thing?”

  “You get right to the point, don’t you?” His square jaw barely moved when he spoke. “I played professional football back in the states until I injured my knee and got cut from the team. I realized maybe pro ball wasn’t for me.”

  “Football. I’ve never watched.” With my unfortunate upbringing, football and other spectator sports were something still undiscovered.

  “Have you noticed anything odd since you’ve been here?”

  “I might have seen someone in my room the other night and the next day a picture of Didier I brought, disappeared.”

  “My job is to protect you and you failed to mention this?” His voice became hard.

  “I didn’t think anything about it… then.” I lied a little, but suspicions laced my life.

  “It’s probably nothing, you’ve become popular, threats are part of the territory, but I refuse to take this lightly.” He lifted his beer and took a large swallow. “Didier is on his way here. He planned on making this a surprise but under the circumstances, you should know. You will stay with me until his arrival.”

  I sucked down my drink so quick the effects of the 151 Rum showed. “He is a wonderful man.” I yacked on describing my first night in Paris and how Didier and I met. “Did you meet him when he hired you to protect me?”

  “No, we’ve been friends for years. We met when I played ball. When the team cut me he offered for me to come to Paris and work for him. I needed a change and accepted his offer.”

  “As a bodyguard.”

  He chuckled. “No, not at first, I have a bachelor’s in law enforcement and criminology. Didier hired me as head of security. It wasn’t until you came along that he asked me to be your bodyguard.”

  “That seems like a demotion?”

  “No, I have never seen him taken by anyone as much as he is with you. He gave me a raise to keep an eye on you and knows of your adventures wearing his clothes as a disguise.”

  “You got me on that one. Who ratted, Jean the concierge?”

  “It doesn’t matter, he worries and you are a bit of a mystery.”

  “Mystery, how?” I finished the last drop of my drink and ordered another.

  “You show up out of the blue and ask how? What matters is he loves and cares for you; your safety means everything to him. Drink up and go nowhere.” He got up and left.

  Sam returned thirty minutes later. I passed the point of tipsy and reached full inebriation. I remember Sam saying, “Time to get you to bed.”

  The smell of coffee and Sam’s voice woke me. In my half-awake mode Sam’s voice reminded me of a dog barking, but as my mind adjusted to being awake, I heard him clearly. “It was a photographer… a heart attack, but after her threat, I’m not so sure… She knows, when she wakes up we’ll collect everything… we’ll be ready.”

  I pretended to be on the verge of waking up as he entered the room from the balcony, noting my stretches he offered coffee. I sat up in bed and accepted his offer, my mind sifting through his words, attempting to make sense of them. He had been right, I was calm yesterday considering a misguided soul wh
o referred to himself as Slug wanted me dead. His written words I will hunt you down and kill you both flashed across my brain. A jealous girl couldn’t be worse. The fact the psycho woman had been in my room made my skin crawl. I assumed it was a girl because the lipstick made the threat appear feminine.

  Proposal on the Atlantic

  Didier’s yacht became visible when the sun leveled with the ocean’s horizon. Reds and oranges played with the wave crests until they disappeared. The yacht docked, and I ran to him, wrapped my arms around him as we locked in a long sensuous kiss. “You’re good?” He asked while he lifted me off the ground and twirled me in circles. His biceps swelled beneath his shirt sleeves threatening to rip the seams.

  My feet and legs flailed in the air and one of my flip-flops flew off and sailed across the sand. The wind whipped my ponytail across my face. I brushed my hair back and our eyes met. The green part of his eyes more vibrant in the Caribbean sun. “I am. Even better because you’re here.” He was my knight in shining armor, my fairy tale prince.

  Once we settled on the yacht, he and Sam excused themselves behind closed doors. I knew I was the topic of their conversation and my anger rose. Why couldn’t they talk about me to my face? My past I kept secret from them - how I survived on my own without men, no bodyguard, no monetary resources, just me and my precious Einstein. We learned to survive currents of fury together.

  Twenty three minutes later they reappeared. With my stern face on, I gave them each a piece of my mind. “Gentlemen if you are going to talk about me when I’m present you need to include me in the conversation. Sam, I want you to teach me self-defense in case I’m ever in a jam and neither of you,” crunching my eyes into slits, I scanned each, “is present to rescue me.” My ulterior motive to learning self-defense was to defend myself against the likes of Slug and whatever evil came my way. I told neither of them that tidbit of information. I focused my attention back to Didier and Sam as they swapped glances back and forth. Obviously, there was a secret going on between them that involved me; I deserved to be informed!

  “You are right, our discussions involving you should include you.” Didier said with a half bow, one hand behind his back.

  Sam responded, “Justine, self-defense is excellent thinking, especially after yesterday’s incident. We’ll start as soon as we get home.” Sam excused himself, leaving Didier and I alone.

  Didier grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses, gesturing for me to sit with him. “Tell me about the last few days. Did you enjoy your time?” I had to give it to him, he had a calm way of diffusing a situation. At the moment I was content to sit and talk along with a few other things… instead of argue.

  We took a leisurely trek across the Atlantic and through the Mediterranean to get home to France. The final night may hold as the most romantic of my life. He bought me a special dress to wear. It was white with small silver sparkles embedded in the delicate fabric, and the neckline plunged across my breasts, leaving the crests open to viewing, it continued its flow across my arms and back, which formed into layers towards the hemline flowing longer than the front. For the finale, I put my hair up in a beehive with my long layered bangs crossing from the top of the hive and sweeping across my forehead. I completed my attire with a fragile silver chain carrying a single diamond which rested fashionably above my cleavage.

  I joined Didier on the deck for a candlelight dinner, his face lit up when I came into full view. “You are an angel.” He pulled out my chair and kissed the nape of my neck as I sat. After dinner, he walked to my left side and placed his hand, palm facing out in front of me, and I placed my palm down in his. He slipped a delicate white gold ring, studded with small diamonds, a single tasteful diamond in the center onto my third finger. My eyes looked into his, tears staining my cheeks as he asked, “Justine, will you marry me?” In the heat of the unforgettable moment I remembered Didier and Sam’s private conversation. Now I understood why it was private.

  My throat choked and tears formed in the corners of my eyes. I whispered, “Yes.” We joined in a long kiss. My fears and terrors of the past floated away.

  Spiked Punch

  Despite his intimidating size, Sam was an awesome guy. We spent a couple hours in the hotel’s gym daily, where he taught me self-defense moves. I could now not only squish any man in the groin or gouge an attacker’s eyes out, but in one quick movement I could toss an attacker over my body and onto the floor on his back. He taught me how to shoot a gun since I asked to learn. I didn’t want one but felt it would be a useful skill to have. I learned to use a knife and the location of the most debilitating area on the human body.

  Sam’s words I overheard the last day in Aruba played like a broken record in my mind, It was a photographer… a heart attack, but after her threat, I’m not so sure. As he demonstrated how to karate chop someone’s neck I asked, “Was I the only person threatened in Aruba?”

  “To my knowledge, yes. Concentrate.” I left it alone and researched on my own, but what I discovered forced disappointment to well up inside me. Protection was one thing, but keeping danger covert was just plain wrong and I knew something Didier and Sam didn’t because of their secrecy. It was meeting time with both of them to gather and compare our notes.

  The boys, Didier and Sam wore the guilty puppy I-left-a-present-on-the-floor expression. “Gentlemen, I understand you are concerned with my safety, but so am I. You have withheld information from me. A photographer died, seemingly of a heart attack, except he had no history of heart problems. He was the man I handed my drink to after requesting it from a rude caterer. I chose not to drink it, handing it to him and excusing myself.” I gave them both the evil eye.

  “My job is to safeguard your very being. I cannot do that unless you tell me everything.” Sam stated with a hint of sarcasm.

  “People are rude. That doesn’t automatically mean they’re harmful. I am as much to blame. I believe someone spiked the drink and unaware, he drank it, causing an induced heart attack.”

  Didier’s soft eyes converged with mine and he cut in, “You believe the drink was for you?”

  “Yes.”

  He folded me into his arms. “Sam, you remember this woman?”

  “I do and I’m on it.”

  As Sam looked into the incident further, Didier and I planned an engagement party. He spared no expense. Over the past year and a half Didier spoiled me more rotten than sour milk. He bought me an unbelievable jewelry collection. Many of my pieces were one of a kind tailored for me. I enjoyed the jewelry but didn’t live for it. I wondered if the people I stole jewelry from to pawn had missed theirs. Did I steal one of a kinds or heirlooms passed from one generation to the next? I wished they understood they helped two young children in this horrible, cruel and unforgiving world. Somehow, one day, they would understand. I would sell my jewelry to help those on the streets. In fact, most of the money I made since coming to Paris I donated. I kept a small nest egg, in case of an emergency. I didn’t need it; Didier provided everything I might need and much, much more. My closet overflowed with clothes, every piece boasted a designer’s name. In my opinion, clothes were clothes. They covered my body. Shoes were shoes. They covered my feet. The more I didn’t fawn over my gifts the more gifts I received. He fawned on my selflessness. I told him I would be happy if he donated the money to families in need and sometimes he did.

  Here and Gone

  Our engagement party stood out as the soirée of all soirées: co-workers, friends, and I invited Kamisha. I unexpectedly grew used to the flamboyant lifestyle, but on the inside - it wasn’t me. The focus of the night centered on Didier and I and it overwhelmed me. People I barely knew, or never met congratulated me, and young ladies eyed me with envy. Whispers circulated the room: Who is she? Where did she come from? Then You don’t belong… You don’t belong in smudged lipstick echoed inside me. I snuck away finding a deserted room I closed the door behind me and took a deep breath then composed myself. The echoes in my head faded, and I emerged i
nto the hallway.

  The door closed behind me and a warm, sweaty hand slipped across my mouth. Heavy breathing followed by a crackling voice said, “You need to go back to wherever you came from, Justine.” Her voice reverberated inside me and Sam’s self-defense skills blossomed into action as I grabbed hold of the mystery woman’s arm and slung her over my shoulder. A puff of dark hair and a small frame came thundering forward, landing on the floor with a loud thud. I drove my shoe into her side for good measure and ran down the hall, rounding the corner I ran into Sam.

  The expression on my face gave away my fear. “Wow! Where have you been? What happened?”

  “I threw her in the hall, on the floor.” I squeaked. He burst down the hall.

  Didier’s forehead creased with lines and his eyes grew dark as he walked towards me. He scrutinized our actions. “Where is Sam?”

  “I used the skills he taught me. A woman caught me from behind, I flipped her, and left her in the hall crumpled on the floor.”

  A look I didn’t expect came over his face as his lips curled into a smile of satisfaction. “I will remember not to get on your bad side. Was she the same woman from Aruba?”

  “I don’t think so. Her hair was dark and short, although her size and frame are correct. With her hair covering her face, I can’t be sure.”

  The woman disappeared by the time Sam arrived. He and security scoured every inch of the hotel, and scanned the video footage, though apparently she busted the camera in that hallway. My immediate thought was, how convenient you little bitch. They didn’t find her, although we didn’t come up empty handed. I threw her so hard she left a small blood stain behind, it got collected and sent in for analysis. In the cover of night she fled, but I would soon know who she was and I’d be ready. My devious mind schemed for her return.

  Over the next few weeks, I assisted in planning my wedding and succumbed to being a public societal figure. In the past I worried about my transgressions slamming me in the face, but now I looked my fear in the eye and assisted in the hosting and planning of various charity events. I wanted this would-be assailant woman to find me. With my ears open and eyes peeled, I watched and waited.

 

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