Fiendish Play

by Angela Richardson

  Anais’ hand was suddenly over my lips, forcing me to stop talking. Her hand’s touch on my body making all my senses ignite. There was an electric current coming from Anais’ hand and through my mouth. It was like I was experiencing touch from another person for the very first time in my life. The weird and powerful sensations making my mind go into overload trying to understand what exactly was going on. Anais must have felt it too because she didn’t move her hand off my mouth right away, rather she stared at its hold over my lips, keeping it firmly planted so we stayed connected. Her eyes locked on mine, staring deep. She was clearly fascinated and drawn to something I think we could both feel. When a minute had passed, Anais pulled her hand away from my mouth slowly, swallowing back a breath from breaking the connection we had made. I couldn’t help but notice she had licked her lips at the same time.

  Finally, she found her voice. “James. We can’t talk about last night. Especially out in the open like this. I know that sounds crazy, but I really am trying to protect you...and myself. So please...I beg you...not now. No questions. Just pretend this is the first time we’ve ever met. Okay?”

  Yes, she sounded crazy and overly dramatic, but I believed her. I believed every single word that came from her lips. “I’ll drop it, for now Anais...as long as you stay and continue to show me around.”

  Anais took a few steps back, considering my request, trying to be reasonable. “Fine, but it will be a quick tour alright.”

  I grinned at Anais. The gesture made her smile back at me too. Anais Aston had a beautiful smile. It was one I committed to memory immediately. She had naturally deep-red plump lips that were so sexy when pouting and even more beautiful when spread cheek to cheek in a glorious smile. I never wanted to forget that expression. It made my heart illuminate in a way I couldn’t even explain. It was like she was a switch to a light I didn’t know could be turned on.

  I followed her out of the arts building and across many landscaped lawn areas, near pathways, and under arches. We strolled through the intertwining and intersecting buildings. She pointed up and down at various bigger structures, going briefly over their history. She was definitely up to speed with the every detail and every brick ever laid here. Her vast knowledge was just another quality that impressed me. She also launched into conversation about her study in philosophy. How she loved to explore the concepts and criticism of beliefs. And that she one day hoped to become a professor just like her uncle and teach the great workings of the ancient philosophers. I couldn’t help but notice that when she was talking about what she loved, she really opened up with her personality. Physically and mentally, she had become a burst of enthusiasm and passion that only made me want to know her even more. The expression ‘there’s something about her,’ felt like it was made just for Anais. I couldn't take my eyes off this girl. Not even for a second.

  Seeing her stand against the dark gray sandstone walls, her body gliding through the archways, her ballet flats shuffling on concrete, it hit me. Like a rush of wind hitting my face. It was all forming in my head so quickly. My final year piece. And then as her hair got swept up around her face as she walked in between some large leafless trees, her plump red lips moving back and forth against the sunlight, the pointed roofs set behind her as she adjusted her hair and the rays of sun catching and streaking in between — I saw it. As she moved against the university backdrop, it came together perfectly in my mind. Anais Aston had inspired something I had hoped would be my greatest sculpture to date. I couldn’t wait to get to the hardware store and find my materials to get started. Something had sprouted deep in the creative forest of my imagination.

  By the end of the tour she was giving, she had moved closer to me. Our hands even touched and she didn’t immediately pull away. I loved that we fell into step comfortably. I was even working up the nerve to hold her hand. “Be bold,” I told myself. “Chase the impossible dream.” But that all changed when we heard a voice come up behind us. Because as soon as Anais heard him, her demeanor changed instantaneously. And this little intimate moment we were sharing, drifted away like a whisper in the wind.

  “Anais, hey Anais!” the deep masculine voice yelled from behind. Both our backs turned at the same time, but Anais’ reaction was different to my own. Her face not even going up to see who it was. She looked stiff as she moved away from me, making sure we had a very noticeable distance that set us apart. The happy emotion that I saw on her face was long gone. There was a cold and distant glaze in her eyes and a frown which showed on her lips.

  We turned to see a guy, who looked every bit our age or maybe even older, come striding over to us. Black hair, eerie blue eyes. The kind of eyes that pierced your own when you looked too hard at them. And tall, very tall, with broad shoulders. He looked all fraternity with his dressy beige pants and collared white Tee, but something about him didn’t seem that simple. No, this guy was something different altogether because he instilled fear into Anais by just calling out her name. That was her reaction, I was certain of it, especially after what I witnessed last night.

  “Hello Byron,” Anais said flatly. It was weird hearing her voice sound so disconnected to the rest of her body.

  “I was hoping I’d see you today,” he said looking her up and down very quickly, making some sort of assessment.

  “And why’s that?” Anais’ tone filled with anger now. The edge to her words almost lethal. A protective feeling emerged in me at the same time.

  “Oh no reason,” he answered, sounding musical, his eyes flicking towards me quickly before resting back on her. “Just wanted to see if you looked any different today.”

  Anais sucked in a little breath and put her hands behind her back. From where I was standing, I could see her fists ball and tighten. “And how do I look?”

  “The same.” He grunted. Now he switched his focus on me. “Still the beautiful sweet Anais we all know and love.”

  Wow, what a performance I was getting.

  “Introduce me to your new friend Anais,” the guy said, still trying to figure me out. His eyes looking me up and down.

  “He’s not my friend Byron. He’s my uncle’s new transfer student he wanted me to show around. He asked me to his office this morning. You can check with him if you want.”

  It did sting hearing Anais dismiss us being friends so quickly like that, but something told me she said it for protective purposes only. I was fast picking up her quirks for telling lies.

  “Gee Anais. Don’t be so silly. You make it sound like I need some sort of explanation from you. Now please, introduce me,” he requested again, a little harder than before.

  Anais made a hand gesture to me, like some kind of game show hostess showing off a prize. “Byron Fraylock, this is James Riley. He’s my uncle’s new prodigy all the way from France.”

  Prodigy? Is that what the professor thought of me?

  Byron reached out for a handshake, obviously impressed. I shook his hand back. “Nice to meet you,” Byron said, his voice sounding much different to how he was addressing Anais. “If Liam thinks so highly of you, that says a lot. Believe me.” His eyes flicked to Anais and then back to me. “I hope Anais is being a good host in showing you around.”

  “Thanks. And she is, being a very nice host. She just gave me a very informative tour of the campus. I didn’t realize how much history there was here. But Anais here brought me up to speed.”

  Byron looked very pleased by what I said. “Good to hear,” he began. “Because here at Cloverley, we’re always on the lookout for the best and brightest. It’s what we pride ourselves on.”

  “You sound like you’re scouting for something. You in a fraternity?”

  Then Byron laughed, amused by such a question. “Fraternities are for people who are sheep. They’re for the weak-willed.”

  “Okay...And you’re in?” I asked curiously.

  “Something far more superior,” he clarified, but it wasn’t a specific answer. He was purposely being vague for a reason. Not that
I was about to ask him to go into more detail. I wasn’t looking for answers. I was just making pleasantries to diffuse Anais’ obvious mental agony over his presence.

  Anais cleared her throat. “Ummm, so I’m going to go now...I’ve done my bit for my uncle.” She quickly glanced at me, her eyes seeming apologetic as she tried to escape. “I’m sorry James. I have to go. I’ve got some research to do...” She trailed off.

  “That’s fine Anais. And thank you for the tour. It was very nice meeting you.” I shot her a quick smile, hoping she could see my support.

  She quickly spun on her heels in the opposite direction, but not before remembering Byron was next to me too. “See you Byron,” she said sharply. She waited a moment for him to say goodbye as well, but it was almost like she was waiting to be dismissed. Byron saw her discomfort and waited another minute before saying anything back. He was certainly making it very clear that the power was in his hands...or more specifically, his words. “Alright then,” he said after an excruciating long pause. “See you later Anais.”

  As soon as he gave her his seeming dismissal, she took off in the opposite direction, quickly disappearing out of view. Byron stared off after her but then turned his attention back to me. His persona becoming friendly, almost chummy as he made conversation. He asked about where I was from, my study and my work with the professor. He was interested to learn more. But I knew that for whatever reason Anais had vanished, it had something to do with Byron’s presence, and how much she looked like she feared for her life. I was certain that what had happened to Anais being tied to that tree was somehow linked to this Byron guy. How he was involved or why...I would need to find out, and I was about to make it my mission. But I figured if I was going to get anything out of him, I should at least pretend to be friends. You know what they say about keeping your enemies close and all.

  {6}

  Twenty-one years ago...

  DELIA

  Fishnet stockings, garter belt, black satin corset, long ice blond hair set in ringlets and the tinge of ruby red on my lips. I knew I looked every bit the fantasy. It’s how we had to appear after all. Goddess like. Mythical. Magical. An illusion. A brand new shiny toy. Being an ‘Elite’ Lappell woman meant I was reserved only for worldly chapter presidents and leaders within our special group, so I had to be perfect. I had to be the best on offer.

  I was rinsing out my mouth with mouthwash as I prepared myself. I couldn’t even bring myself to look in the mirror. If I did, I would probably spit the mouthwash out at my reflection. I had to control the hate I had for the Lappell...and myself. Being Elite in the Lappell had only got me so far. I still had to perform like a common prostitute, except I wasn’t getting paid. So what do they call a woman who gives herself up like this without money? A slut? No. Not here. A slave? No, there were no shackles on my wrists...no gun to my head. Then what was I? Emotionally blackmailed with fear? They could hurt and destroy my family and friends. Turn my life upside down. They had taken away my choices with their power and threats and turned me into one of their soldiers. A person who would obey their commands and lie down and play dead if they asked, or in this case, lie down and spread my legs.

  I looked quickly in the mirror and squeezed my eyes shut. Every time I looked at my body, all I could see were the fingertips of a past I could never erase. Their awful touches that would forever make my skin crawl. The very images in my head made me empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet bowl. Thankfully it was just the awful regurgitated taste of champagne. I knew I should have eaten earlier, but I couldn’t stomach a crumb knowing what I had to do tonight. Fuck! I would need to rinse my mouth again and make sure I reapplied my lipstick. That meant seeing myself in the mirror once more. Is it normal to hate your reflection so much?

  I heard the room’s front door creak open. “Here we go,” I muttered to myself. I took another swig of the mouthwash. I couldn’t get enough. There was already a bad taste in my mouth. Too many disgusting memories painted on my lips and forced down my throat. “Push it away Delia. They’ll never own your heart or your soul. It’s just your body. Flesh on bone. That’s all.” I kept telling myself the same thing over and over in my head. It’s the only way I could get into the right frame of mind for the show.

  “I’ll be right out,” I sang, using a completely different voice to my own. It was the whorish, sweet girl voice men just loved to imagine goes with this pathetic lingerie fantasy. I looked down at the minty fluid sitting at the bottom of the hand basin. Maybe I should take one more gulp? Or keep chugging until I was dreadfully sick. I mean how much mouthwash would it take to kill myself? That would have to be better than this. I made a mental note to research mouthwash related deaths later on.

  “We’ll be outside in the hall.” I recognized our security men’s voices as the front door shut. I had heard them many times before. He was here, which meant I had to put my best foot forward. I readjusted my breasts that wanted to spill over the top edges of the corset and took a deep breath. “Let’s get this over and done with,” I told myself, trying to make it seem like it was just another night. I didn’t want think about the new emotional scar I was adding to my body. God — how many scars does it take before they break you? Apparently...for me...a lot. I hadn’t let them ever break me. It was a long-standing fight I had with the Lappell and their control. It was the only way I could go on every day. The only way I could remain functional. I kept the fight within myself. I could feel like I was winning by never allowing myself to cry or become a broken down mess. It’s what they ultimately hoped for. That way, there would be no resistance. But I would never give them that satisfaction. Not while I still had hate for them in my head, hope in my heart, and air in my lungs.

  I walked out of the bathroom and saw a guy hunched over on the bed. His back was to me so I couldn’t see his face. I glided across to where he sat. My six inch heels tapping on the floor alerting him to my presence in the room. His back stiffened, sensing I was near. His head turned to face me. I stopped, shocked by the young handsome face opposite me. He was not what I expected. Not. At. All. “You’re young,” I blurted out without even thinking. Normally it was aging leaders and chapter presidents looking for a good time. I couldn’t believe my voice just popped out like that. My self-control leaving my body from the shock of his pretty boy face.

  “What?” he said, his eyes roaming my body before he averted them to the corner of the ceiling.

  “I’m sorry. You’re just a lot younger than what I expected. Not like...”

  “I’m twenty five. I hardly call that childlike,” he said, still not making eye contact.

  “I didn’t mean you were...”

  “Can you just go back to the bathroom please? I think it would be better if you just stayed in there. I’ll slip out quietly in an hour or so. Don’t worry; I’ll make sure they know we sealed the deal.” He sounded forlorn, like this was the worst kind of situation he was in. He finally allowed his eyes to fall into my line of view. He looked me up and down one more time before turning his body back around so he faced the door and then placed his head in his palms.

  I was taken aback, sure. I had never seen this reaction before. This was instant rejection and what looked to be some form of regret. It could have also been hesitation and some kind of fear as well. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he was feeling. I couldn’t draw an accurate conclusion. I mean, even if he appeared remorseful or truly questioning what he was supposed to do, I wasn’t convinced his emotions were real. This had to be some sort of set-up against me. In this world, you can’t trust anyone or anything, especially when they act the opposite of what you’ve come to expect.

  “I don’t understand. Is this a test?” I asked with caution, now moving towards him to show that I was more than ready to comply with my duties.

  He stood now, turning towards me, shaking his head. He was tall, with dark brown hair; the slight growth of side burns on his face actually suited him. A strong jaw, dark earthy-brown eyes which
looked woeful and kind. He wore a plain white Tee and dark distressed blue jeans. I noticed he didn’t dress like the others. No designer suits which screamed elitist snobbery. No. He looked like James Dean in his get-up. Like he had worn what he did because he was naturally rebellious or proving a point.

  My eyes then shifted to his hands. They were very big and broad and they were scratched up, covered in calluses and blisters. I continued to stare at how large they were and wondered why they looked like they did. He cleared his voice harshly as he moved his hands out of view and behind his back when he realized I was staring at them.

  “No, this is not a test, I assure you. Now please,” he took a step towards me but stopped, keeping his distance, “go back to the bathroom.”

  I stood frozen. Shocked. Perplexed. I didn’t understand what was going on. Why was he here if not to get his entitlement? His turn for fun? To get a high from all the power? There had to be another reason for this...this bizarre behavior.

  “Am I not to your...uh...tastes?” I managed to get out without trying to sound offensive. It was the only conclusion I could draw in my head. I had never been turned away before. He must have preferred the company of men.

  “Huh...?” He looked at me trying to understand what I meant. Then it looked like a light bulb went off in his head. “Oh...ummm. No. No. I like women. And it’s not that you’re not pretty because you’re stunning. Really...really, very beautiful. But I can’t...I’m sorry.”

  “Can’t get it up?” I said bluntly. Conclusion number two. It had to be medical...or perhaps it was a size thing. Some sort of insecurity happening downstairs in the pants’ department. I was already getting tired of the mind games he was playing. Best to just get the issue out into the open so I knew what I had to work with.