Aphrodite's Stand

by Sandra Scott

  Across the seat, Sly laughed with carefree abandonment. “No, silly! I have family around this area, but I have not seen them since my mother and father passed.” To Racine’s relief and then alarm, Sly placed both hands on the wheel only to take her sparkling green eyes off the road and dangerously grin her way. “Please, Racine, trust me. I know where to go.”

  Racine pointed to the road before them, causing Sly to laugh again. Smiling endearingly, she faced forward to resume her driving.

  The women kept silent for the remaining miles, each in her private thoughts. Soon enough, Racine felt the vehicle’s deceleration. Her heart pounding, she realized they were about to arrive at their destination. She sat straighter, rubbing her sweaty palms on her bare thighs.

  At a narrow path ahead, Sly turned right and reduced her speed even more to travel through a dense, forest-like area.

  “What are you doing?” Racine asked. Tense, she leaned forward to stare beyond the windshield gently lashed by the branches of green foliage. “Where are we?”

  In silent concentration, Sly slowed to a crawl and maneuvered the automobile into a small clearing. Stopping, she threw the vehicle into park, and her foot pressed hard on the emergency brake. With a firm turn of her slender wrist, she cut off the engine.

  Unbuckling herself, Sly twisted in her seat toward Racine. “We must conceal ourselves. We do not want this Mr. Hog to catch us sneaking on him.”

  Before Racine had a chance to answer, Sly opened her door and jumped out.

  Now fuming, Racine mimicked her actions, slamming the door behind her. Quickly standing atop the running board on her side, she scowled across its roof at Sly. “Listen up, buddy! This is my sister we’re here to rescue, so I’m in charge.” She paused to intensify her glare. “You got that, Lacey?”

  Sly hesitated, her face earnest as she contemplated Racine’s words. “Yes, I understand. I am truly sorry.”

  Taken aback by her cohort’s immediate contriteness, Racine was rendered speechless for a few seconds.

  “So?” Sly said after the silence lengthened uncomfortably. “What do you want to do, Cagney?”

  “Well, first, we need to erase this Cagney-and-Lacey thing,” she said with a cough. After jumping to the ground, Racine circled the vehicle toward Sly. “Second, we need to stake out the place to see what’s what.”

  Racine paused, searching the foreign land. “So, hmm, since you know this area, lead on.”

  Grinning broadly, Sly motioned to Racine.

  The Grecian dove into the thick foliage, and after feeling a flash of uncertainty, Racine went after her. To her disconcertment, she ducked and dodged swinging branches, prickly bushes, and rough-edged boulders for more than a mile. Suddenly, Sly cleared the brush and abruptly stopped at an overlooking ridge.

  Breathing hard, Racine pushed through the last of the bushes and nearly collided with Sly. Leaning over with her hands on her knees, she stole a breathless glance at her cohort.

  “Why aren’t you”—Racine coughed—“out of breath?”

  “Pilates,” she said simply.

  Figures. “So what do you see?”

  Shielding her eyes against the late-afternoon sun, Sly slowly scanned the expansive landscape. Suddenly, she gasped. “There!” She pointed toward the lower valley at a sprawling yet timeworn edifice. “See that villa over there?”

  Straightening, Racine moved closer to Sly, her eyes traveling the length of the girl’s arm to see a house; next to it was a partially hidden old white van parked alongside the north wall.

  Overcoming her shortness of breath, Racine wanted to jump for joy. “It’s the van Mom talked about! I know it is! Andra’s in there—let’s go!”

  Racine moved forward, but Sly immediately grabbed her arm. Livid, Racine glanced at the smooth olive-colored hand that restrained her. “Get your grubby paws off me!”

  “Racine, I am sure this Hog person has moved Dr. Andra from the van to inside his villa. I believe we must search there.” Sly dropped the offending hand and raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. “We must proceed—how do you say?—stealthily.”

  Begrudgingly, Racine remained still, realizing her rashness at trying to get to Andra might end with them getting kidnapped as well—or worse.

  Sly’s next words agreed with her. “However, we do not want to get caught and be like Dr. Andra, do we?”

  “No, we do not.” Racine’s focus returned to the villa, and she scanned the land surrounding it. All appeared quiet; the inactivity made the structure look like a deserted lover, but she didn’t believe the deception for a second. She felt her sister’s presence somewhere in the old house.

  Diligently, her eyes circled to its back. Squinting, she stopped at the partial view of a door to a cellar built into the ground underneath. She would have bet money it was most likely secured with a thick, bulky padlock.

  At least that’s how most cellar doors are situated in every scary movie I’d ever seen featuring spooky, deserted-looking houses inhabited by deranged kidnappers.

  She turned to Sly. “Toward the back, do you see a corner sticking out like it could be part of a cellar door? It could be a way to get inside the house undetected.”

  Sly narrowed her eyes to examine the nearly hidden exterior door. “I believe you’re right. Let us go.”

  Once again leading the way, she crouched as she descended the slope before them; dirt, sticks, and small stones ricocheted behind her until she landed feet first at the bottom of the gorge. Hands on her hips, Sly turned to watch Racine make her way down courtesy of her backside. After neatly crashing to a stop, Racine jumped to her feet and took a moment to brush clinging dirt and twigs from her shorts.

  Motioning to her left, Racine pointed out a small ravine that circled around the house alongside the van. Crouching, the two scurried along its path until they reached the rear of the decrepit automobile.

  Slowly, Racine straightened and stretched her neck to take a cautionary peek inside the windows of the rear door. The dimly lit space, cluttered with dirty rags and discarded bottles was empty. Looking over her shoulder, she shook her head at Sly and carefully made her way to the front bumper. She glanced around it.

  The view from that side of the house made the structure appear even more abandoned.

  Racine motioned to the neglected backyard.

  Nodding, Sly slid along the side of the van until she also reached the front bumper. Looking about, she kept her right arm tucked close and bent lower, running past Racine and over to the side of the house. Leaning against its side, she glanced back and, with her left hand, made an all-clear gesture.

  Once she reached Sly’s side, Racine paused and then nudged her cohort. “What if we get to the cellar doors and there’s a padlock there? How are we gonna open it?” she whispered. At Sly’s silent shrug, Racine thought for a moment. “You know what? I’m keeping my fingers crossed that if there is one, it’s probably old and rusty like everything else on this place. We’ll just have to find a way to break it open. Let’s go.”

  Keeping low, they slid their bodies along the exterior of the house, ignoring the fact that the trendy garments they wore steadily accumulated more dirt and grime along the way.

  The pseudo-detectives, fashion hogs in their own right, didn’t notice.

  54

  Fascinated by Beauty’s exquisite backside as she ascended the dimly lit shadows of the stairwell, Hog studied the feminine curve of her back, her impossibly small waist, and the muscular roundness that formed her buttocks. Before him, her toned legs climbed toward the lit landing of the villa’s main floor, and it was all he could do not to reach out and hurry her moving parts along.

  But he would be gentle. At least with her. The woman who walked before him was indeed a special female—just like his first Beauty—and he would treat her accordingly.

  Those others from the past, the f
emales he had to either pay for or lure to various hotel rooms, he soon found they were nothing special, just bodies to unleash lust, anger, or frustration upon. Only a few had produced tears as noses were broken, wrists were fractured, or lips were split due to his bloody rage.

  To his initial surprise, some actually took pleasure in the thrashing he gave them. Those females were the ones he felt uncomfortable around. Taking a beating from him, only to like it—well, they couldn’t be right in the head. He felt society had enough troubles without women like that running around loose, so out of concern for the rest of society, he disposed of them as often as he could.

  Andra stumbled on a step. He reached out to steady her, only to have her angrily push his hands away.

  He chose not to be offended by her refusal to accept his chivalry. Unlike his first Beauty, not many modern women appreciated such things.

  His current Beauty reached the top step and, with a slight hesitation, crossed over the threshold into the kitchen. Uncertain, she stopped to survey the unknown territory. Taking advantage of her indecisiveness, Hog finally gave in to his lust and drew her to his body.

  She stiffened as he wrapped eager arms tight about her waist.

  “I want you so badly,” he whispered against her ear. Her body jerked within his embrace. “Your body’s telling me you want me as well.”

  Ignoring her quiet sniffling, he kissed her thick hair, which was currently fixed into a long French braid. Deducing she must’ve plaited her hair after he’d left her in the cellar to attend to Paulo, Hog gently tugged it.

  “This will never do. Before we hit the sheets, I want you to release your hair. Let it flow with wild abandon about your shoulders. You hear?”

  She remained quiet, her frame rigid as he tenderly caressed her bare tummy exposed below her torn blouse.

  “Ah, Beauty, I could fall in love with you,” he said, inhaling her mussed hair, which smelled like mangoes—and dust. His hands traveled upward to stop beneath her breasts, his fingers lightly touching the smoothness of their round underside. “As a matter of fact, I’m just about there. How about you, my darlin’? Feelin’ anything yet?”

  Silence answered him.

  Taking in her compliance, Hog believed it was a good sign that she in fact truly desired him, the man who could truly make her happy.

  Unable to wait any longer, he pulled away to reach for her blouse’s first button. Leisurely, he unfastened it. “I’m gonna take this nice and slow to allow you to savor our first time together.” He kissed her earlobe and was only slightly offended when she jerked away. “Look, this has got to happen—you and me. Get used to it, Beauty.”

  Andra shook her head. “My name’s Andra Theonopilus.” Her breathing took on an asthmatic sound when his fingers lowered to the next button. “No matter what you do to me, I’ll never belong to you.”

  “Like I said before, we’ll see. Just remember your patient below.”

  Chuckling softly, he went on to whisper the things he planned to do with her, watching with perverted interest how her bottom lip trembled and the hands at her sides clenched into tight fists. The power he wielded over her was intoxicating, surpassing the rush he’d always experienced after closing a major business deal.

  His fingers moved to the next button, when she whipped around to face him. A slap as hard as a kick from a bucking bronco plastered his cheek, causing his head to lurch to one side. Rising anger at her violence against him rapidly turned to delight.

  “The Good Book says to turn the other cheek. I’m willing.” He grinned down at her, his deviant smile causing her defiant expression to turn into fear. “I’m glad you’ve got a lot of spunk, my Beauty. You and I are both gonna need it where we’re going. Tit for tat is what I always say.”

  He grabbed her wrists as her fingernails went for his eyes. She let out a small yelp when he put a tight squeeze on them.

  “Yessiree, that’s exactly what I want.”

  Catching a flash of movement in his peripheral vision, Hog froze. His glance rapidly shifted toward the window above the kitchen sink, watchful, waiting. He couldn’t tell what he’d seen—or if he’d actually seen anything at all—since it had happened so fast.

  Dropping her hands, he stood before his Beauty, his mind undecided. He knew his tempestuous lust for the woman before him dulled his usually sharp senses, almost rendering him useless. Subsequently, his brain and body warred with one another. His aching body wanted to satisfy his volcanic desires with this woman, yet his brain pulsed with the desire to check outside in case something was wrong.

  His Beauty gazed at him, her lovely dark face filled with confusion—and relief—at his paralyzed state.

  His hands now clenching and unclenching at his sides, Hog attempted to gain control of his warring halves.

  In a split second, Hog decided. “Come on,” he said. Grabbing one wrist, he yanked Andra along.

  55

  “Can’t this jalopy go any faster?”

  Stefano glanced sideways at Jayson, taking in an agitated face created from hard angles. He chose to ignore his brother’s ire and calmly returned his eyes to the road. He knew the speed the vehicle currently traveled was already twenty miles over the limit; he was determined not to risk their lives in order to appease his riding companion’s need for speed. “Jalopy? This Jaguar, little brother, is the best money can buy.”

  At Jayson’s exaggerated sigh, Stefano compensated his misery by increasing the car’s speed a few more miles per hour. “Is this better?”

  Jayson impatiently shrugged him off. “What good is this expensive car if it can’t get us to Andra any faster?” Brooding, he exhaled even louder. “Could you go any slower?”

  “We are making good time,” Stefano assured him.

  Jayson crossed his chest with rigid arms and stared straight ahead.

  Uneasy, Stefano focused on the road, his gut alerting him that Jayson’s agitation was not entirely about his urgent need to get to his wife. He waited out the silence until his gut was proven right.

  “Stefano, you lied to me earlier.”

  He’d dreaded the arrival of Jayson’s words, for he’d known they would eventually come. He exhaled in one long breath; however, he remained mute for the time being, allowing his younger brother the right to say his piece.

  “And I was too much of a coward to refute your words. You lied to me, and I wanted to accept your lie.” Jayson’s face veered off to stare at the scenery that rushed by his window. “But now that we are going to her …”

  Stefano’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter in painful anticipation.

  “You’re in love with Andra.”

  Jayson’s quiet words came forth as a declaration. Strangely enough, Stefano experienced relief. Technically, Jayson hadn’t asked a question; therefore, technically, he did not have to supply an answer. Yet despite his reprieve, numerous versions of denials, rebuttals, and downright falsehoods rushed to fill his tongue. Stefano sifted through each one, trying to pick the right one to aid himself in feeling less guilty. He couldn’t.

  “Yes,” he finally admitted.

  An unseen hardness radiated from Jayson’s side. His frame stiffened; an unavoidable silence filled the vehicle, as dense as granite and just as impenetrable. Yet Stefano knew that just as quickly as the wall around Jayson’s heart had been erected, he had to hurry to tear it down.

  “Jayson, I did not mean to,” Stefano said. “It simply happened. Please forgive me.”

  At Jayson’s continued silence, Stefano rushed on. “I must tell you that nothing happened between your wife and me. I swear it on our mother’s grave.”

  Jayson’s eyes were glassy hot as he turned toward him. “Don’t bring our mother into this.”

  “She loves you.”

  “Who?” Jayson spat bitterly. “Our mother or Andra?”

  “Both.”
Keeping his eyes on the road, Stefano suppressed a sigh. “Our mother did not want to leave us; she had to leave us. With my illness and what it has put me through, I finally came to this conclusion, and so must you.”

  Jayson sniffed hard. “I love my wife, but I used to be terrified to love her with everything I have to give.”

  “Why?”

  Jayson’s shrug was slight, barely noticeable. “Because I was afraid she would somehow, in some way, be taken away from me.”

  “Like our mother.”

  Jayson’s slow nod gave way to a look of determination. “That’s how I used to feel about my Doc. But now …”

  “Yes?” Stefano prodded. “Go on.”

  “My fear of losing Andra is greater than my self-preservation instinct and my desire not to get hurt if something did happen to her. Like when I lost Mama.” Jayson turned to stare directly at Stefano. “And just like with Mama, I have to compete with my love for Andra—with you.”

  Jayson’s sudden weeping startled Stefano to the point he almost lost control of the car. The need to reach out to his sibling washed over him, yet at the moment, his touch might not be welcome. He kept his trembling hands on the wheel.

  “Jayson, Mama loved you very much. You were always her favorite. Once she even apologized to me for loving you more than she could ever love me.”

  “What?” Jayson asked, his attention full upon Stefano. “Why?”

  “She never wanted you to know this, but she had been raped by Papa before they were married. As a matter of fact, that’s the reason she decided to be with him – because of me.”

  At Jayson’s mute shock, Stefano stared straight ahead at the road.

  “With you, it was different. By the time you came along, she loved Papa. You were born out of that love. With me, it was different for her, traumatic. I believe what you saw between Mama and myself was her attempt to over-compensate for the love she could easily give you, but was unable to truly give me.”