One Wild Ride

by Elizabeth Lynx

  I was surprised when he still wanted to talk to me even after finding out that I was married. No guy would do that unless they wanted something from me. Something that I might not want to give, like my life.

  “It’s not your mom I’m worried about,” I mumbled as I twisted my head to figure out where we were.

  He placed his hand on my shoulder and I tensed.

  “Why would you be afraid of me? I would never hurt you. Since I first laid eyes on you all those years ago, all I ever wanted to do was make you happy.”

  I whipped my head around. “What? Years ago. You mean . . . weeks ago, right?”

  “Shit.” Alex pulled back. “I didn’t mean to say that. It doesn’t matter,” he said waving his hands at me.

  “Mr. Hawthorne, we’re here,” the driver said as the car came to a stop.

  I glanced out the window and noticed we were in the Roger’s Park neighborhood, near the northern Chicago border. I recognized a restaurant I had been to before. At least, if I had to escape, I knew where I was.

  The driver took us to a garage and dropped us off. Alex took me to another car—a yellow Volkswagen Karmann Ghia. Before we got inside, Alex looked under the car. When I asked him what he was doing, he only told me it was to make sure we were absolutely alone. That answer didn’t help my anxiety. I glanced around to find an escape. Before I could get away, he put his hand on my arm, opening the car door, blocking my escape.

  I thought that was where he wanted to talk but we ended up going north, out of the city and to a motel. My eyes took in every road sign and turn we made. When I got away, I’d knew where to run.

  I tried to think of an excuse to not go into the motel room, but Alex pulled me inside. Not much had changed in this room for a few decades. It smelled of mildew and everything was either brown or dark green.

  If he thought I was compliant he would be more likely to leave me alone, and then I could escape. I sat on the bed and tucked my hands under my thighs.

  “Is this where you plan to kill me? I have to say, Alex, I thought if you were going to off me it would be in a classier place.”

  I, obviously, wasn’t very good at being compliant when it came to possibly being killed.

  “Why do you think I want to kill you?” Alex asked as he sat on his knees in front of me.

  “Because I’m married.” I crossed my arms around myself feeling my old life creep back in.

  That life would be right at home in a room like this.

  “I’m not going to kill you because of that. I’m not going to hurt you at all, ever. I only want to find out the truth and knowing my mother, she would find a way to listen in on what we say. I don’t want what you tell me to be twisted later into something unrecognizable from her.”

  My shoulders slumped as I decided to stop making excuses to run from Alex. He wasn’t going to kill me. If he had wanted to harm me, he had plenty of times in the weeks I have known him to do it. I think I was only worried that he would see the real me.

  Maybe, like my parents, he wouldn’t like what he saw.

  As much as I didn’t want him to see, it was time to own up. Out of everyone I knew, I guess Alex would be the one that would most understand.

  “My father, he’s a lawyer. Not the type of lawyer you think of, but the one who works for the scum of the Earth—you know, the mob, criminals, even a few terrorist organizations last I heard.” I felt sick talking about him.

  Alex moved up to the bed and sat next to me, placing his arm around me. Until he pulled me close, I hadn’t realized I was shaking.

  “When I was a teenager, my father went to work for a group in California. They called themselves the Freedom for Oppressed Peoples. I was so happy he was finally working with a good organization. He took me and my sister to a party they had. I was excited because I wanted to find out more about helping people. I had a dream since I was young to use my art to help others.”

  I shook my head but continued, “But the name of the organization was a front. It was another criminal organization. But this one wanted to infiltrate the government. They were Russian. They wanted to work to destroy various governments around the world, giving them the power. And my father offered me and my sister up to two of their high-ranking officials so they could get citizenship.”

  “Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Aria.”

  Alex’s fingers began to rub my back and it felt good. It helped to settle my nerves.

  “We were left at the party and locked in a room together. My sister told me at the first chance I got, I should run. So, that’s what I did. The next day I was forced to sign some paperwork. They left me alone in the room with the man they had told me I married. Most of the things the people said was in Russian, which I didn’t understand. But the worst part wasn’t the fact that I was married . . . it was what the man did to me after. He took a part of me that I can never get back.”

  I felt tired. Scooting toward the pillows, I lay back on the bed. Alex gave me some space but moved to lie near me.

  “When I used the bathroom after it was over and the man was asleep I noticed a small window. I climbed out and ran. I didn’t know where I was but somehow, I found a woman on a bicycle and told her what happened. She called the police. Later, when the police raided the house—”

  I stopped. Turning to my side as I curled up in a ball, the tears flowed and I didn’t know if I could ever get the words out. I miss her so much.

  “It’s okay, Aria. You don’t have to tell me anymore,” Alex said as he eased closer.

  He curled up behind me and hugged my body to his. I needed that. Every time I thought about that time in my life, about my sister, I was alone. Only able to cry into my pillow. I never realized how much it helped to have that touch, to have someone to talk to, until now.

  “It was abandoned. The house. Things were torn up as if they were trying to get out in a hurry. Only they left one thing behind. My sister.”

  “Was she safe?” Alex asked, his hot breath tickled my neck.

  “No, she was dead. The coroner said they found heroin in her system. She never did drugs, never. I was the wild one. Ava was the straight-laced one. She did everything right. I called her a parent’s wet dream.” I laughed at the memory.

  “She was the one who talked me into going with my parents to that supposed party. She said she wanted to help Mom and Dad. That she had heard them fighting about money problems. Ava believed that if we supported them, looked like the happy family, then these people would give my dad money. Instead, they destroyed her.”

  I gritted my teeth and bit out, “I knew they filled her with those drugs. They killed her. My father basically sold us and caused my sister’s death. And all I could think about was the fact that I left her there. She was scared and alone, and I ran away. She had just turned eighteen. About to start a life as an adult, instead everyone she loved left her to die. I may have only been seventeen, but I was old enough to find a way out for her.”

  A sob rattled my body. It was deep and long and still not enough. Despite how much time has passed, I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for leaving my sister to die.

  EIGHTEEN

  Alexander

  She brought painwherever she went. My mother. Her words, her actions, only rotted away lives that were happy before she entered them.

  I used to feel bad for my mother. I used to think she was the victim in this world. But youth had a habit of making any parent seem perfect.

  I watched Aria sleep after her confession. Lying next to her as thoughts about my life, my mother, and this stunning artist swirled in my head. My heart ached knowing my mother tried to twist Aria’s life into one of the pieces on her board game. It was coming together. All of it.

  Of course, my mother knew of Aria. She probably planted her to begin with. Maybe even three years ago when I first saw her in that gallery.

  What I feared was that she might have known Aria far longer than three years.

  Nothing was an accident wi
th Emma Hawthorne, despite what she may say. The only thing that I haven’t been able to figure out was why?

  Why use so many people? Why control your son’s life to the point that he won’t go outside in the daytime? My mother may be evil but she wasn’t crazy.

  “What time is it?” Aria’s head lifted from the pillow, her hair stuck to her cheek. My chest rolled with an intense twinge. I wanted to see that silly, sexy, sweet look every day.

  “It’s about six in the evening. I’m getting hungry. Do you want to get something to eat?” I asked as I turned to my side to face her in bed.

  I wanted to kiss her. Pull her close to me, but I knew now wasn’t the time. She needed to relax after opening up.

  “Yes. That’s sounds great. What’s good to eat around here?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I have no idea. Why don’t we take a walk and find out?”

  She smiled and when her hand lifted to my cheek, I felt my heart stumble. Now I really wanted to touch her and never leave this bed.

  But we did leave and after a few minutes, we were walking down the street. I had been to this place many times but never came out for a walk. Mainly strip malls and gas stations.

  “Not very scenic,” Aria said.

  “I don’t know about that. I like it here. Everything is what it is. It doesn’t pretend to be something it’s not. Like over there,” I pointed to a sign at a strip mall, “it just says laundromat. Nothing fancy. If you need to do laundry, you know exactly where to go.”

  Aria laughed and slipped her fingers into mine sending prickles up my arm. “You’re right. I never thought of it that way. How about that place? Sausage, Chicken, & Fries. I have a pretty good idea what I’m going to get in there.”

  “I think we found where to get food, and we didn’t even need the Internet,” I said.

  We walked over and ordered our food. There wasn’t any place to sit and eat so we took it back to the motel.

  I ordered most of their menu and realized, after we ate half of it, not to order food when I was ravenously hungry.

  I leaned back in the small chair in our room. “I think my stomach might explode.”

  “But what about dessert? We haven’t even gotten to that yet. You’re a lightweight,” Aria said before taking another bite of her fried chicken breast.

  “My God, woman, how can you eat so much? You’re so tiny.”

  “Pacing. Any true food connoisseur knows to spread out the meal. Take lots of small bites and never fill up on water. Water is for losers.”

  I threw my head back and laughed. I don’t know when I had enjoyed myself that much. It was nice talking about nothing with someone and knowing they weren’t going to run off and tell my mother everything I said.

  “You can have the dessert. I’m going to lie down on the bed and let that food work its way through me.”

  “Unbutton your jeans,” Aria said after she wiped a napkin across her mouth.

  “What?”

  “I do that all the time when I stuff myself with food. It helps. And since you are a newbie at gorging, I thought it might help,” she said pointing to my zipper.

  “Oh, uh, okay.”

  I unsnapped the top button of my jeans and she was right.

  “This is what it must feel like to take off a girdle,” I said and then burped, which felt incredible.

  “Now you’re getting it. Let everything go. But if you have to fart, please release that in the bathroom. No need to call in a hazmat team to air out the place.” She laughed as she stood and walked over to the bed.

  “What about your farts, Aria? Maybe you’re the one who wants to kill me. Death by suffocation due to too many farts.” I fell back on the bed kicking up my legs.

  Her eyes widened. “You have no idea what my farts smell like. My ass burps could smell like honeysuckles and baby powder.”

  I lifted my shirt and rubbed my belly hoping that would help.

  “You know what would really help with that? Sex,” she said standing over me next to the bed with a straight face.

  “Does that ever work? With guys. Just saying it like that?” I tried to sit up but I farted.

  Aria covered her nose with her hand. “Eww. Oh no. Now I have to call the fumigators.”

  Her shoulders shook. That was it. It was time to teach this woman a lesson.

  I grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto the bed. Her giggles grew louder, deeper as she fell.

  “No! Someone help me. He’s trying to murder me with his gas. Fartocation!” she said in between fits of laughter.

  I climbed on top of Aria and pulled her arms away, pinning her down.

  “Looks like you’re trapped. This was my plan all along, Aria. To get you in this small room so I could fart you to death,” I said.

  That’s when I realized how close her lips were to my cock. It grew warm and hardened at the thought. My laughter slowly died as did hers. She must have been thinking the same thing as her eyes drifted to the jean-clad bulge growing on top of her chest.

  “Do you not want me, Alex? Is that it?” Aria’s eyes lifted to mine. There was something different in the way she looked at me. A sadness or vulnerability that I hadn’t seen before.

  “Of course, I want you, Aria,” I said as I climbed off her and lay on my side next to her. Folding my arm, I propped up my head with my hand. “I keep waiting for this to feel right or natural. And every time I want to kiss you or pull you close something in my head stops me. I talk myself out of it because I’m afraid you won’t like what you find in me.”

  She smiled and with her hand, she pushed me so my back was flush against the mattress.

  “We are going to play a little game, Alex. It’s called, what do you really want.”

  “All right.” Willing to say yes to anything she said.

  My brain began to feed me doubts so I shook my head, trying to stop them. Aria was here with me in a motel room. Nothing about the night screamed lavish. All the times I told myself women only cared about my bank account, I couldn’t say that here.

  This place was shoddy. Our dinner was cheap. Aria wasn’t getting turned on because expensive things surrounded her, she was getting turned on because I was with her.

  And that thought made me hard.

  “What do you really want, right now, Alex?” She tucked her legs under her, hovering over me.

  Her body. I wanted to see her body.

  “For you to take off your top.”

  Her lips curved into a sexy smile and she reached up, unbuttoning the three buttons at the top of her black- and white-striped blouse. Her creamy skin stretched as she pulled the top from her skin, throwing it onto the floor.

  What was left was a smooth stomach, petite but perky breasts hidden under violet lace, and long, lean arms. Those were the facts, but what did I care of facts at that moment.

  I loved color and texture. Tone and movement. My eye was attracted to line and contrast. I looked for that in every painting and I couldn’t help but notice it on Aria.

  But she was no painting. She wasn’t even a masterpiece. Aria was real and something no painter, no matter how talented, could ever capture the extent of her beauty.

  “You are more beautiful than air.”

  “Air? You can’t see air, Alex.” Aria laughed but there was hesitation behind her eyes.

  Her arm lifted to cover herself and without thought, I stopped her. “No, but I can feel it. It feeds me. Without it I couldn’t live.”

  “Oh, well, when you put it that way. It’s not bad.” She lifted her hand, drifting her fingers across my arm. “Now it’s my turn,” Aria said as she lifted her deep brown eyes to mine.

  My heart picked up in my chest and I wondered if she could hear it. I both feared and desired what she wanted. For three years, I imagined her telling me how she wanted me to fuck her. And then I would imagine doing it.

  But now that the time had come for her to answer that question, I was afraid of what the answer might be.

 
“Aria, what do you want?”

  NINETEEN

  Aria

  “I want everything,” I said because I did.

  But I needed more from him. We came here today to talk but he hasn’t explained anything to me yet. I have come clean about my life, my marriage, but he’s not said a word to me.

  “We have to start somewhere. What would you like first?” Alex said as his eyes stayed locked to my chest.

  I moved across him and swung my legs on either side of his stomach, pinning him to the bed. His chest felt firm as I drifted my fingers over him.

  “With a question,” I said, wanting to ask more than just one. “You said earlier that you first laid eyes on me years ago. Since you were a recluse, how could that have happened?”

  His eyelids slid down my body. Alex made a sound, telling me that wasn’t the question he expected. Resolve settled over his gaze when he finally looked up at me.

  “I wanted to go to an art show in a new gallery that opened up. The one that showed your paintings where I bought your work. That gallery was brand new three years ago.”

  “I remember. I asked the owner for a job, hoping to get her to show my work eventually. She did, but it took years of working for her in addition to my job as a bartender.”

  His eyes dipped to my chest for a moment before he smirked and turned his head to stare at the light peeking through the old curtain.

  “I talked Bradley in to coming with me. When we got there, it was an interactive showing. One area had a white ball pit that people could play in and another area had the white balls hanging from the ceiling—”

  “With strings hanging from the balls and you could turn them on and off with the string. I remember. You were there?” I asked as my mind raced through the crowd of that night trying to find his face.

  “Yes. And I saw you. I remember worrying if you were one of the prostitutes my mother had hired. In a way I wanted that, because then it meant I could get close to you but in a way, I didn’t want that for you. My heart began to ache thinking that you could be part of that life. But you weren’t.”