by A D Seeley
She brought it to her lips, giving it a tender kiss. Growing up in a Catholic-run orphanage had taught her to believe Father Carroll when he’d told her that it would protect her. After all, hadn’t she been protected thus far? She had been the only one to survive the fire….
The priests and nuns at the orphanage had always told her that she’d survived for a purpose. And they’d also treated her differently than they had the other kids. They were always very protective; acting like something evil was out to get her.
She was glad that, although she visited them as often as she could, they couldn’t see her now. If they found out exactly how “of the world” the club they knew she worked at was, then they would say that she was tempting the Beast to take her. But she knew better. She may wear a skintight and low-cut spaghetti-strap mini-dress that showed off her long legs and plenty of cleavage as her uniform—as well as dark eye makeup and crimson lips—but she still wasn’t of the world. She was still the religious little girl who had been taught to fear God’s “punishment and wrath.”
She didn’t feel that way, though. She felt like He would be like any other father. That He would have unconditional love. Yes, that He would get angry at times, but that He would always forgive. That He would do anything to protect His children. But maybe those were just the fantastical dreams of a fatherless orphan….
The doorbell buzzed just then, an ancient reminder of just how long ago this building had been erected. Because it surprised her, she looked at the clock. Eric shouldn’t be here yet…not for at least another fifteen minutes. At least she was ready. She refused to ever make someone wait for her.
A genuine smile on her face, she opened the door. But it wasn’t Eric.
“Tracker! What are you doing here?” She wasn’t angry—it was difficult to get her so—just surprised.
“I thought I’d come meet this guy,” he said, his normally sweet, boyish face hard as though he was preparing himself to go into battle.
Annoyance shot through her for a split second. She didn’t need him to protect her; especially from Eric. Eric was quiet and shy. There was no way he would ever hurt her.
“You’ve already met him.” He was in the same study group as the two of them.
“But not as a prospective boyfriend.”
“Track…. Come on,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve known me for how long?”
He sighed as he walked in and closed the door behind him, ruffling up his spiky hair.
“Forever.” They’d grown up together after he’d moved to the orphanage when he was thirteen.
“And how many boyfriends have I had?”
“None.”
“So what makes you think that Eric will be any different? I haven’t even kissed a guy on the lips. And, although Eric’s a nice guy, I’m not attracted to him.” Eric was short and probably weighed less than she did soaking wet. And it’s not like she weighed much with her willowy body. She was tall and thin with a long, guitar-shaped torso that forced her to layer her clothing so that her abdomen didn’t show, as well as womanly breasts and hips; a strange combination. It gave her the look of a lingerie model—Crystal had plenty of magazines hanging around that sold the skimpy attire—which was why she made such good tips at the club.
“Then why even let him think he has a chance?”
Looking straight into his eyes level with hers, and placing one hand on her cocked hip, she said, “Because he’s sweet. I couldn’t say no when he finally mustered up the courage to ask me out. You know he’s been trying to get the guts for months now.”
“Of course you could’ve said no! If I asked you out, you’d say no.”
“No I wouldn’t! I love you to death!”
“Yeah, like a brother…” he grumbled, looking down at his trashy white tennis shoes that were more brown and green than white.
“And what’s wrong with that?” she asked him, trying to cheer him up despite the fact that he was being ridiculous. “Boyfriends come and go, but you’ll always be a part of my life.” The way he was acting was making her wonder if he had a crush on her.
Just thinking that embarrassed her. She shouldn’t be so vain. He was just being nice and she was reading too much into it. Mentally checking herself, she said, “Well, whatever the case, Eric will be here any minute.”
“I know. I just want to make sure he’s gonna treat you right.”
She felt silly for thinking he liked her. He was obviously just being a good “brother.”
The doorbell buzzed again.
“Now, be nice,” she said, narrowing her eyes in a warning to Track.
His hands up in surrender, he said, “I will, I will.”
“Hi Eric!” she exclaimed when she opened the door.
“Hey,” he said as he played with his dark hair, which was outrageously slicked back for the occasion. His face falling when he saw the head hovering beside her, he said, “Oh hey, Tracker….”
“Mm-hmm,” Track said, lifting his chin.
She didn’t understand Track sometimes. Sometimes he could just get so protective and mistrustful; like he was being right now.
Noticing that Eric was in a nice shirt and slacks—dressed up much more than she was—she asked, “Is my outfit okay for whatever it is we’re doing?”
“Yeah, what are you two doing?” Tracker interrupted, putting his body between her and Eric.
“I got reservations at Herod’s,” Eric said, puffing his toothpick-like chest importantly.
“Wow! How’d you manage that?” she asked, impressed. Herod’s was the hottest new restaurant in town and was impossible to get into unless you were rich and famous.
He shrugged. “I have my connections.”
“You?” Tracker snorted. Now he was just being rude.
Hara elbowed him lightly in the ribs as she gave Eric a bright smile. “I think that’s wonderful. I better go change into something nicer. It will take five minutes. Do we have time?”
“Of course,” Eric said, gesturing for her to go ahead.
She quickly made her way to her bedroom, where she threw on a white Grecian-style dress. It was a halter connected to a large silver ring that wrapped around her neck. It then flowed to the ground, only held back by the cinched empire waist. It had a back to it, but that didn’t begin until under her shoulder blades, where the cinching in the front originated. She’d been trying to find an occasion to wear this dress for over a month now.
After donning silver flats, she threw her hair into a haphazard bun secured with two silver sticks, tendrils loose everywhere. Perfect. Now she liked her hair again.
As promised, she made it back to the boys in time.
“Shall we go?” she asked Eric because he just kept gaping at her in awe.
“Um…yeah…sure….” With that, he took her bare arm that was slightly thinner and much longer than his, and they left both her apartment and paranoia behind.
***
Inac let out a sigh of relief; they were finally leaving. It wasn’t that he was afraid of them finding him. More that he didn’t want to have to kill them just yet. He really wanted to corrupt the pristine little Hara first.
He waited in the roommate’s closet for a few more minutes in case they came back—it was plenty spacious because everything was spread around her bedroom instead of occupying its racks. He really hadn’t planned on still being here when Hara got home, but he’d lost track of time. For some reason, learning all about her was fascinating. Of course, he liked learning about people before he got rid of them.
He had been so engrossed in her crush on him that he hadn’t realized the time. It wasn’t until he’d heard the key turning in the lock that he’d realized how long he had been there. He had then run to the roommate’s bedroom door, barely closing it behind him before Hara entered the apartment, calling for her roommate—she obviously had good instincts because he’d been silent as he’d dodged the minefield of objects covering the floor on his way to t
he closet as Hara walked toward the very room he was in. Again, he had barely closed the closet door as she’d opened the bedroom one.
It was fortunate that Hara, though her instincts were incredible, just as obviously second-guessed them. For a moment he’d thought that his plan to corrupt her wouldn’t work because she was bound to sense his true nature. But now that he’d learned so much about her, he knew that she would give him a chance no matter what her gut told her. He was lucky she was so innocent and trusting. This would be a piece of cake.
As he hustled down the stairs toward his bullet bike, he pulled out his cell to call the manager of Herod’s.
“Hey, it’s me.” He knew Étienne would know who it was.
“Mr. Adamson, what can I do for you?”
“There’s going to be a couple coming in soon. I don’t know the last name, but the first name will be Eric and he’ll be with a gorgeous blonde.”
“Okay…?”
“After dinner, I want you to tell him that his credit card is denied. Do whatever you can to force the bill on the woman.”
“And if she doesn’t have the money, sir?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m on my way to handle it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Inac didn’t say goodbye before hitting the end button. Now finished with that stage of the plan forming in his mind, he made another call.
“Go for Santoni,” a deep voice answered.
“I need you to do something for me….”
***
“What do you mean it was declined? I’ve never even used it,” Eric argued, his face turning as red as the walls.
“Perhaps you forgot to activate it then, sir,” the waiter replied. “I can try another one if you’d like?”
“Please do,” he said, handing over another card from his wallet. He was extremely flustered, which only made Hara feel awkward with the entire situation. Trying not to let Eric see her awkwardness, she played with the bread crumbs on the beautiful pressed white cloth that covered the round table they sat at.
When that one—and another three—came back declined, she grabbed the silver clutch she’d brought and said, “Why don’t you try mine?”
“I’m sorry,” Eric said, almost crying from what she guessed was a combination of frustration and humiliation. “I don’t know why they aren’t working. I swear they aren’t at their limits.”
“I know,” she said with a smile. “How about I take care of this and you can just owe me dinner some other time?” He cracked a small smile back, probably thinking that she was asking him for a second date.
She took a card and began handing it to the manager—who had followed the waiter over two cards ago—when a deep voice that got her heart racing asked, “What seems to be the problem, Étienne?”
She began turning toward the voice she’d been fantasizing about for days now when he moved up next to her. And wow, did he look good. She thought he’d looked good in a tight T-shirt and distressed jeans, but cleaned up…he looked like a cologne model from one of Crystal’s magazines. His all black suit was draped perfectly over his broad shoulders, he wore no tie, and the first couple of buttons were undone to show his muscular chest underneath, as well as a tiny bit of the tattoo on his neck. From what she could see now, it apparently moved down to the right side of his chest and who knew where else. It was only then that she remembered that his left arm had been tattoo-free, but the right one had consisted of the same design that was on his neck….
“This gentleman’s cards have all been declined, sir,” the manager said, his nose rising with a pompous air in response to Mr. Adamson’s entrance.
“Have they.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, sir.”
“So his girlfriend was about to pay?”
“Yes, sir.”
A part of her wanted to correct him; to let him know that she wasn’t Eric’s girlfriend. It was the human part of her responsible for her carnal desires. The part that tingled in anticipation of his lips on hers. The part that longed to be touched by him; to be held by him. It was so ridiculous, though, that she squashed it down like Vinnie would squash down a spider that dared to enter his club. Mr. Adamson was revolted by her. He hated her. And she didn’t even know why….
“You should know that a woman as enchanting as she is should never pay for her own dinner, let alone anyone else’s,” Mr. Adamson’s perfect lips said.
Wait…what? Enchanting? He thought her to be enchanting? Now her heart was really pumping. The butterflies in her stomach were flying each and every direction so forcefully that she wondered if any would fly out of her mouth. Puking all over his shiny black shoes was bound to make a great impression….
Mr. Adamson grabbed her hand that was offering the card with surprisingly soft, dark fingers—he had a very deep olive complexion that was absolutely beautiful and different from any she’d ever seen—and brought it to his mouth, lightly kissing a knuckle.
She couldn’t breathe as she looked up into his eyes. Fire was flowing from his lips and taking over her body. She felt her lips part slightly, waiting for his to descend upon them. That she had never felt for a man before.
But he didn’t kiss her. Instead, he let go of her hand, which didn’t move from its place in the air. It was stiff, begging for another touch from him. It didn’t get it.
“Of course, sir,” the manager was saying, bringing her back from the precipice Mr. Adamson’s lips had taken her to. “What would you like me to do?”
“Comp it.”
“And the tip?”
Mr. Adamson pulled a thick black wallet out of his slacks and handed a couple of bills to the waiter—she didn’t see the amount.
“Thank you, sir,” the waiter replied before walking off, the manager not far behind him now that the situation was resolved.
“Yes, thank you,” Eric added, his voice full of suspicion.
“You’re welcome,” Mr. Adamson said, though his eyes were on Hara, who hadn’t moved her’s from him since he’d materialized.
“Do you two know each other?” Eric asked.
In a thick voice, Hara said to Eric, though her eyes didn’t move to him, “Mr. Adamson’s thinking of buying the club I work at.”
“Actually, I already bought it. And please, it’s Inac.” He said it like E-knack.
Her curiosity piqued, she said, “Inac? That’s an interesting name. It almost sounds like a biblical name.”
He had been smiling before, though it hadn’t reached his dark eyes. Now, however, his smile became larger and a mischievous sparkle lit his eyes up like Vegas—which she’d driven through on her way here from New Hampshire four years ago, so she would know. It was like he was enjoying some private joke.
“And what about Anahara?” he asked, his eyes twinkling. “That sounds like something even more ancient than the Bible.”
She giggled. “What can I say? My parents were weird.”
“As were mine,” he said as he sat himself on the edge of the table, looking at her and nothing else.
He was looking her directly in the eye, not wavering one bit. If he was flirting—she couldn’t tell—then he was being quite forward in his advances. You just didn’t look someone in the eye like that. Now she was getting flustered, but the kind opposite of what Eric had been.
Eric! Inac’s intense gaze had made her completely forget about him!
“At least Eric had normal parents,” she said, forcing her eyes from Inac’s to smile at her date to bring him back into the conversation. She feared that if she didn’t, she would become forever lost in Inac’s obsidian eyes.
“Normal is overrated,” Inac responded as he stood up, which in turn seemed to break the spell he had cast on her. “Well, you two lovebirds have a good night. I have places to go and people to see. Come back when you have money to pay for your meal,” he added over his shoulder. He had yet to really acknowledge Eric.
“And you, my dear,” he said, grabbing her hand again and saying t
o her in a voice that felt conspiratorial, “come back anytime you’d like. It will be on the house.” He then kissed her hand again before disappearing.
As soon as he was out of eye shot, she felt she could breathe again, though her hand still burned. What was up with the effect he had on her? It’s not like he was that special to make her body respond the way it did.
Sure, he had a muscular body a god would envy. And he had a defined jaw and a rugged chin with a cleft in it, all covered with thick dark stubble the same length as the stubble on his head. He also had substantial eyelashes as black as his slightly tilted, exotic eyes, and a straight, aristocratic nose above his full, defined lips that spoke with a velvety tone that was like the musical tinkling of water dancing over rocks. And then there was that beautiful skin tone, dark against her alabaster skin, which made it difficult to determine his nationality. He had angular cheekbones, so maybe Italian, though the nose was somewhat Greek in nature? Whatever the case, all his characteristics didn’t add up to her almost fainting over the guy, no matter how gorgeous and masculine he was.
“Well, shall we?” Eric asked in a clipped voice. It seemed that he had noticed the effect Inac had had on her and couldn’t help but compare it to the lack of such effect he had on her.
Still slightly dazed, she nodded before standing to follow him out of the restaurant. Now that she’d really studied Inac, she couldn’t help but notice how ordinary Eric was. Where Inac was exotic and alluring, Eric was plain and dull. He was like the rusted old penny next to a cartload of precious gems.
They walked through the dark parking lot, empty of people because everyone else had paid for valet. It seemed to help her come back to her senses, and she realized how rude she was being to Eric.
Trying to remedy the situation, she said, “Thanks for dinner, Eric. It was delicious.”
“Yeah, no problem,” he said, kicking a stone. His feelings were hurt and she didn’t know what to do about it.
They were almost to his beat-up old sedan when she heard a rustling. Suddenly, cold fear gripped her. Her paranoia was back in full force as her primitive instincts kicked in. The part of her that had been instilled when her ancestors had lived in caves was telling her that she was being hunted.