by Kyanna Skye
“I want you to. This is nice.” She let him hold her on the beach before they went inside. Lana wasn't sure how she could possibly get away from Tony. He was everything she didn't need but wanted more than anything else.
Chapter 7
Lana turned over and opened her eyes so she could watch the morning tide come in through the window near the guest room bed. The sun slammed her in the face, forcing her back. They’d both had too much to drink.
When she felt like she had enough strength, she got up and found a pair of slippers for her to wear at the foot of the bed. Tony was very respectful. He didn't come onto her. Instead, he gave her a room to sleep in.
She walked through the hall and out into a small dining room where Tony was moving around the kitchen with his shirt off, wearing an apron. He was stirring something on the stove when she walked in. “What's going on?” she asked drowsily.
“I'm making breakfast.”
“Sounds amazing.” She sat down on a stool at the kitchen bar.
“Here.” He reached into the fridge and pulled out a cup of blood-red liquid.
“What is that?” She stared at it like it was raw, blended cow meat.
“You had a lot to drink last night so I made you a virgin Bloody Mary. Keeps the hangover at bay.”
“Really?” She picked up the drink and swirled it around. The smell of the tomato juice made her want to vomit.
“Trust me. It works.” Tony threw some chopped vegetables into a frying pan. He looked back at Lana, who was resting her head on the counter, staring at the cup. “Come on. Take it.”
She picked it up, closed her eyes, and took it in one gulp. The salty, tangy flavor stuck in her throat and threatened to come back up. But once the drink hit her stomach, she woke up and the pain in her head went away. “That's terrible.” She set the glass down with a sour face.
“But it works.” He threw some eggs into the frying pan and ducked down to check something in the oven.
“What are you making?” The room smelled like charred meat.
“Couple different things.” He pulled a glass of orange juice out of the fridge and handed it to Lana.
“Come, sit down.” She noticed there were fruit bowls sitting on the table when he began setting down platters of food beside them. There was everything from eggs to pancakes—even different syrups. She had a pancake with strawberries and blueberries.
“This is amazing. So, this is a separate living space from the rest of the house?” she asked.
“I don't live in the whole estate. Many of the rooms don't have ventilation or air conditioning. This is my house.” They were in a cottage attached to the back of the main house. It was made of modern, fabricated materials—plaster, glass windows, and wood, but it still had the old, red-tile roof.
“I can't imagine living the way you do. How did you become so rich, Tony?” She took a bite of her strawberry.
“I'm an heir. It's a family fortune, but I'm the firstborn.” He took a bite of egg.
“In your family, the firstborn gets the largest share of the fortune.” She laughed and took a drink of her juice. “That is the most archaic thing I've ever heard.”
“Yeah,” he laughed. “I know, but it's how things are done.”
“Old, old money.” She cut a piece of her pancake off and let it dangle on her fork in her hand. “That's it, right?”
“Yeah. Old money.” He took a bite off the head of a sausage. “I don't like questions, you know. I'm a quiet guy.”
“I don't get it.”
“So. I don't owe you an explanation; not yet at least.”
“I want to know what I'm getting myself into. That clinic....”
“Nah.” He picked his plate up and brought it into the kitchen. “This conversation is over.”
“No.”
“Whatever.” He shook his head and rinsed off his plate. Then he walked back to the table and leaned in close to her. “Are we okay?” He'd gone from abrasive to irresistible.
“Yeah.”
He pecked her on the cheek. “You're safe. You don't have to worry about anything else right now.”
“I like it here.” She looked around. “I've always wanted a little beach house at the top of a cliff.”
“I have one,” he beamed.
“You do, don't you.”
'“It has a stretch patio facing the cliffs on the second floor. It's amazing.”
“Oh, god, I have to see that.”
“You do,” he affirmed.
“But I have to get back. There are things I have to do in the city.”
“A few more hours?”
“No. It's already late. I'll give you a call.” She finished her food and got up. He grabbed his car keys and they left.
While driving into the city, Lana felt like the dream was ending and it was time to get back to reality. Girls like her didn't just get picked up by rich men, and he wasn't just any rich man. He was involved in something sinister, and she didn't want any part in it. Still, she wasn't sure she could resist him.
She couldn't.
He dropped her off with a kiss and lingered just a little bit longer with his hands wrapped around her. She had absolutely no choice in the matter; she was his and there was no way she was going to escape.
Chapter 8
Lana rested the whole day, trying to collect her thoughts. She was still in crisis after Jim nearly died, and now she was running into a whirlwind with a man that may or may not get her killed. She couldn't come to a conclusion about what to do about Tony until the next day when she was driving to the clinic.
She was going to end her affair with Tony and try to avoid him so she could build a life for herself in San Diego. That thought was almost comforting while she moved through her day, but it also left her feeling a little unsettled. She had just spent an amazing evening in a beautiful house with a man that she couldn't stop thinking about. Lana simply couldn't walk away from that.
He was a good man too. He knew how to cook and how to dress. Any other time in her life, she would've melted at his feet. Why did she have to meet him now, when she was losing her mind, and reeling from her escape from hell?
Dr. Matthews left Lana to close the clinic that evening. It looked almost benign, with beige tile and a modern, floral painting hanging on the wall. But when Lana looked down at the tile, she noticed blood spray, and her ears were still ringing from the men howling in pain. She thought of all the men that had died there and left shivering.
Tony was leaning against a sleek, navy-blue motorcycle when she turned around after locking the doors.
“I'm not getting on that thing. I'll wriggle around and throw it to the ground.”
“No, you won't. Trust me.” He patted the shotgun seat. “It's easy. I promise.”
“You're going to drive 80 miles an hour.”
“No,” he said defensively. “I'll only go 60.”
“Oh, god.” She was trembling. “And you better slow down for the turns.”
He held his hands up. “I swear. Nice and easy.”
“I'm gonna die.” Lana stopped in front of the bike.
“Why do people ride these things?”
“You really don't know?”
“No. It's not safe.”
“Get on. I promise you won't die.”
Lana had a little trouble lifting her legs over the back of the seat, and there was nothing holding her in behind her butt. She could've easily slipped off.
“Here.” He took her hand and put it in the pocket of his leather jacket. “You put your hands in there and hold on as tight as you can.”
He threw the bike back out of its parking space and onto the road. She screamed as loud as she could. The wind was blasting her in the face; she could barely see, it was so strong. Then they curved up into the hills where they both had to move as one unit and maintain their balance.
After a while, they began to read one another instincts and they learned how to move without thinking about it. T
hen they reached level ground, the countryside opened up, and she felt like she was flying. Riding on a motorcycle was a completely different experience than riding in a car. Lana was exposed to everything—the wet, ocean air, the sounds of insects, and the little gusts of the wind that pushed the bike around.
They stopped in a field near a cliff. When Lana jumped off, she was shivering.
“That was amazing!”
“I do it every chance I get.” He took her hand. “Come on.” They walked towards the edge of the cliff were a small trail had been carved into the rock. It curved down along the rock wall into a sea cave where a small bank of sand offered a place to sit down.
“Private beach,” he said casually.
“I can't imagine anyone finding this thing.”
“You can't see it by land.” He picked up a pebble and tossed it into the calm water. “The cliff edge hides it and,” he pointed to rocks jutting up out of the water at the mouth of the cave, “you can't sail into here.”
“How'd you find it?”
“It's an old, family place. Everyone knows about it, but we don't know how the trail got there.”
She faced him. “What's the water like?”
“It's nice. Try it.” The water from the sea cave was cut off from the rest of the tide. Instead, it sat in a smooth basin.
Lana walked to the edge of the water. The bottom was granite, so it was soft against her feet. When she stripped and stepped in, the water engulfed her toes. It wasn't perfectly warm, but it wasn't freezing cold either. She stepped in farther towards the center of the basin to dip her head in and get her hair wet. When she turned back towards shore, Tony jumped on her and bit into her neck softly. Then he clasped his hands around her stomach.
She pulled back to the shore and sat down.
“What?” He swam towards her.
“I can't trust you. I don't even know what you do for a living.”
“I don't do anything, not currently.”
“Come on.”
He pushed back from the edge of the pool and swam deeper into the water. “There's no questions.”
“I can't do this. It's too weird.” She got out of the water and started gathering her things.
He didn't argue. Instead, he sat with his back to her and waited for her to get dressed. Then he took her up the cliff silently. “I'll call a car,” he said, leaning against the motorcycle. He was going to respect her choice quietly, without arguing like a man.
“Please do.” She couldn't stand going down the road on that thing after rejecting him, and he didn't seem very comfortable. He saw her home, though. She stared out the window while they were sitting outside the motel. Every few seconds he'd look at her out of the corner of his eyes. It made her uncomfortable.
Lana wanted to tell him to look away, but she didn't want to open things up for conversation. It was bad enough that he was sitting next to her. She didn't feel right until she finally pulled herself away and walked back into her room.
It felt unreal having a man like him swooning over her. She could fall right into it, but there was something sinister going on. The clinic, the money, and, of course, the secrecy—she might have been able to accept Tony's secret if he told her what it was, but if she didn't know what she was getting into, she couldn’t stick around.
Chapter 9
Lana spent the next week looking for places to stay. She eventually chose an old one-bedroom apartment. It had a balcony facing the water, so she could sit outside and watch the sunset.
The manager agreed to move her in the next day after work, so she brought all her things and started getting situated. She wanted to do a lot to the house, like bring in nice couches and patterned rugs to cover the wooden floor. She'd hang up paintings and put up drapes.
When she finally signed the lease and they left her there alone, she found herself in the kitchen, going through the cupboards, and in the bedroom, looking through the closets. She was memorizing every piece of the house and making plans for it.
But she was starting from nothing except for a few trash bags with clothes and some toiletries. She picked some basic things up at the store. There was soap, a little shower curtain, and a cheap blanket-and-pillow combination. That would do her until she had another day off and she could go shopping again.
It didn't feel normal when she walked out of her room in a towel to take a shower. She was used to her cramped quarters in the trailer. It felt too open, which made her feel exposed and vulnerable. Down the hall in the kitchen, the trees were whipping against the window screen above the sink. She must've left it open.
When Lana opened the bathroom door, the creak made her jolt. She would never get used to that. Or the way that her footsteps crashed against the floor. She was going to need rugs everywhere to dampen the noise, and some furniture to take away the echo.
The water fixtures were old and tough to twist, and when she turned on the water, it came out orange at first. But it was warm, and she had a new loofa she bought to go with a vanilla-scented soap. She let herself soak, then spread the thick liquid over the sponge. It went on soft and rich and it left behind a thick lather that caressed her legs as it drifted down towards the drain.
She was just about to turn the water off when she heard a thud in the living room. She grabbed the towel and ran out into the cold air. The wind had blown the screen off the front window. She turned back, shaken by the sound, and walked into the bathroom so she could finish rinsing off.
She let the water hit her in the face before she turned it off, hoping that it would relax her. Then she shoved the curtain aside and jumped back against the tile wall, struggling to keep her balance against the slippery tub. “What are you doing here?”
“You burnt the fucking trailer.” Jim slammed her forward and cracked the tile, lodging his hand in the wall. He took it out effortlessly and stared at her with his breath like rotten meat hitting her right in the nose. “You just thought you'd leave me there to die in the desert?”
“It's what you deserved.” She tried to step past him, but something caught on her foot and she fell, first onto the sharp corner of the bathroom counter. Then her head smacked against the linoleum.
“You didn't have to do that.” He was leaning over her, covered in dirt with a layer of crust surrounding the sides of his mouth. “Why'd you do that?” He picked her up and all she could think about was that he was going to impale her somehow. Then he threw her across the hall into the bedroom.
“What are you doing to me?” she wailed. He was walking closer while she slid back until she hit the wall. “Why are you doing this!?” she was begging him.
“You left me with nothing.”
“After everything that's happened, I think I've earned a little bit of leeway.”
“Nah. You were a wretched bitch. I've been wanting to do this for years.” He crouched down to face her. “You're dead.” He spits in her face.
There was no way she could fight him. He was at least twice her size and could probably take down a bear. If Jim wanted her dead, she was going to die, and there was no stopping him.
He paced around in front of her, mumbling to himself. Then he made the sign of the cross and pulled a gun out from the back of his pants. The clap nearly blasted out her eardrums. He was on her in less than a second. A pool of black-red blood was spreading across the wooden floor underneath him.
“Come on.” She was staring at his body when a strong voice and even stronger arms pulled her up by her shoulders and wrapped a robe around her naked body. Tony walked her outside.
She sat on the front windowsill and stared at the grass in the yard.
“You've seen plenty of dead bodies before.” He leaned against the railing across from her.
“No.” She shook her head. “That one was different. We were together for ten years. I won't just get over that.”
“I'm just glad you're okay.” Tony put his arm around her, and she let her head fall on his shoulders.
“He us
ed to be the sweetest boy, never skipped class, never failed a test. He was so shy. That's why I was attracted to him. After we left school, his mother died and he started drinking and went downhill.”
“He's not the same person that you fell in love with. Drugs and alcohol change a person. They kill what little good is left inside them.”
“But there's always the memories of how he used to be, you know? I just wish things had worked out differently for him. He could've had a good life.” Lana turned to look back in the house, but she couldn't see anything from the front window. “What am I going to do about the body?”
“Just don't worry about it for now.”
She pulled away. “How did you find me?”
“Honestly, I stopped at your work to talk to you. Then I saw that creep following you, so I came here and saw what happened.”
“You're not alone.”
“I didn't know what was going on. I wasn't taking any chances.”
Lana saw a pair of red lights pulling away from the side of the house.
“Lana, come with me tonight. I just... I know there's no more danger, but I can't stand to have you out of my sight for a second, not after that.”
“All right. Let me get a bag.”
“Screw those old clothes. I'll get you new ones. I'll get you out of this place, and buy you something nice. I don't want you running around unprotected either.”
“No. I'm an independent woman, and Tony, I haven't made a decision about you yet. Even if I did become your girlfriend, I wouldn't let you buy me everything. That's not how these things work.” She turned around and walked back into the house to grab a set of clothes.
In the bedroom, it looked like nothing had happened. There was no blood stain, no body or gun. Somebody had come in and cleared everything out while she was outside with Tony. Whoever had cleaned up the murder scene worked quickly. They were professionals.
“Ready?” Tony was behind her.
“Oh,” she whipped around. “Yeah.” He took her back to his estate in a black Escalade and drove slowly this time. Every once in a while, he would take a peek at her.