"New and improved I see," he said, adjusting himself on the couch like he had meant to sit down instead. The DO NOT SIT ON MERCHANDISE sign above was of no concern.
"Now, where were we?" I didn't want to let on that I was just as surprised as he was.
Acting wasn't my strong suit but I could fake it for a little while. I hoped anyway. Maybe if he thought I was a bad ass it would be easier to get answers out of him. Richland's eyes lit with amusement.
"Alexis, you may be different but not that different," he sputtered through suppressed laughter.
"Well, do enlighten me on my many differences." I had absolutely no freaking clue what he was talking about. Maybe now he would give me some answers.
"Can't do that, but I can take you to dinner," he offered, popping off the couch. The wolfish grin that dawned his handsome face held promises I didn't want to accept.
"Sorry, but I think I will eat alone. Another mystery man is not what I need right about now."
His snort was loud and exaggerated.
"Now, ain't that the truth. Are you coming?" he called back strolling towards the door.
What other choice did I have? I could eat alone and go back to my room to ponder what in the hell was going on, or I could get a free meal with someone who could possibly give me some answers. So I followed him out to the parking lot. A dark blue BMW stood out like a sore thumb. I stood unable to do anything but stare at yet another car that probably cost more than I would ever see in a lifetime at the rate I was going. I didn't remember seeing the car out front before. I gave Richland a questioning look and got a wink in answer. Like a gentleman he opened the passenger side door, letting me slide in. The new car smell was sexy and the low purr of the engine when he started her up was simply amazing. If I ever won the lottery I was definitely buying one of these. Techno music quickly drowned out the sound that made this car simply heaven. I mentally sent out a promise to my poor neglected Bug that I would clean her up the first chance I had. The smell of Chinese food that permeated her cloth seats would have to go.
Richland drove it like a sports car, squealing out of the parking lot. I wasn't the poster child for driver safety but his driving warranted a seatbelt. The thumping of music grew louder each time I tried to yell out a question. He was avoiding the questions he knew were coming. So I watched as scenery rushed by us like a movie on fast forward as we escaped town at speeds that should have gotten us pulled over. Houses and business morphed into dense trees as we made it farther and farther from the small town. I wanted to turn down the volume, but it was no use. I would only end up cursing that little volume button on the steering wheel. We had ventured into a sound war. I could kick myself for even getting into this car. The sleek upholstery couldn't even rectify this situation. My mother would be so disappointed in me right now.
I tore my eyes from the scenery to glare at Richland since that was the only other option I had. Maybe I could convey how I felt with my eyes.
"What the hell?" I shrieked at him.
He was already staring at me. Richland slammed on his brakes careening us sideways. My head wrenched sideways, barely stopping before making contact with the glass. Cracks and pops rode up my spine, blurring my vision just for a few moments. I felt an instant migraine begin to form at the base of my skull.
"What? What happened?" he screamed back just as dazed as myself. I took a moment to check myself over and make sure that some other driver wasn't about to slam right into us. Luckily we were alone on the road.
"What happened?" I mocked. "You could have killed us! You need to pay attention to where you are going."
"That's it? I thought you saw Bigfoot or El Chupacabra or something cool like that." His jokes were not amusing.
I watched as he scanned his surroundings but unlike myself I'm sure he was searching for monsters that didn't exist. Maybe the longer you stayed in this town the crazier you became. That did not bode well for me if that was the case. When Richland seemed content with the fact that there were no mythical monsters chasing us down, he slowly pressed on the gas, resuming our trip to who knows where.
"Your clothes were the reason that I was staring at you so," he confessed. "Do you need a change of clothes?" For the second time tonight I had forgotten that I still sported paint splattered clothes and Dutch Boy highlights.
"I actually have a change of clothing in my bag." He seemed visibly relieved by that fact. I wouldn't want to take me into a restaurant looking like this either. His expensive taste in cars led me to believe he had the same taste in food.
"Where are we going?" I took the reprieve in deafening music to get in a question or two.
Surprisingly, he didn't crank it back up. My question must have flown under the no answer radar.
"That is a surprise. But there is a Chevron station up ahead. You can change there," he said flashing me a quick smile before returning his eyes to the road. I really hated surprises.
Finally alone in the bathroom, I changed out of my paint splattered clothing and changed into my lavender sweater, skinny jeans, and wrap around heels. I scrubbed my face with warm water. It felt surprisingly good to figuratively wipe away some of today’s pain. I ran a comb through my hair before redoing my ponytail. I couldn't get the paint out of it until I could have a proper shower so he would just have to deal with it. I even went as far as applying some base and lip gloss. When I headed back to the car Richland was already standing at the opened passenger side door. I couldn't help but giggle out loud.
The mental image of him hopping out of his car as soon as I entered the bathroom to stand waiting just crossed me as hilarious.
"What decade did you fall out of?"
Richland's mouth opened and closed pondering his response. It was meant as a figure of speech but he seemed to be taking it as much more.
"What? Men don't have manners where you come from?" he said, skirting around whatever knee jerk response he was avoiding.
I took the lack of music as a good sign. Maybe he wasn't so anti-conversation after all.
"So…Why were you sent to be my babysitter?" I was hesitant at first but let the rest of my question fall out in a rush. I couldn't chance the music coming back to life before I could get it all out.
"Babysitter my ass," he grumbled, rubbing a spot on the back of his head.
"Okay then, how would you describe it?"
"I'd say I was there more as an investigator."
Why would I need an investigator? A rock is more interesting than me.
"What is his interest with me?" I had a feeling I had gained my very first stalker. But Richland's laugh was bitter, void of any humor.
"If only it was pure interest." His voice came so low I wasn't truly sure what he had said. But panic set in anyway. Christ, what did I walk into?
"Okay, just stop with the cryptic mumbo jumbo! I just wish someone would tell me what the hell is wrong with me?" Fear and frustration had my voice cracking with unshed tears.
"I cannot tell you a thing, Alexis. In fact I have told you too much already."
For the first time since we met his voice was filled with pity. I had enough self-pity, I did not need it from someone I barely knew. This ride was supposed to glean some sort of answers. Answers that I knew he had. I couldn't deal with this right now. Suddenly, pain shot through my chest as stars formed across my line of sight. I couldn't take any more avoidance.
"Stop the damn car! I think I’ll walk from here." Even though here was in the middle of nowhere. I would take my chances. If all else failed I had a cell phone. I could call information and get a taxi. Surely they had taxis here. I couldn't recall seeing one but none the less I couldn't stay in this car any longer. But the car didn't slow, and the music regained its tireless beat.
"Stop. The. Car." Each word came out louder than the last.
Silence, the music died and the BMW came to a rolling halt. Everything ceased to work. We sat in pitch darkness. Richland swore under his breath and slammed his fists into the st
eering wheel. The locks clicked before I had time to open my door.
"You are not getting out." His voice was low and angry. My tattoo and the pain that accompanied it flared to life giving birth to my anger that overrode any sense of danger.
"Then what was the point of stopping the car?"
"I didn't!" He glared at my chest. The pain thrummed harder as realization came over me.
"I did." My voice was small and hard. Memories of the Inn flooded through me. I felt like crying but no tears would come. Just plain anger poured through me, blocking any normal reaction one would have when they learned some horrible fact about themselves.
"Then start it back up!" I hissed.
"I can't." His two word responses were beginning to grate on my nerves.
"What do you mean you can't?" Instead of responding he pulled out his phone and furiously started punching buttons.
"Stay here!" he commanded, stepping out of the car. I watched him pace in front of the car while waiting for whoever to answer the phone. I reached over and turned the key but nothing happened. The damn thing didn't even turn over. I slammed my fist into the dash. Damn it!
Whoever he was trying to call must have picked up because his pacing had picked up speed and his lips moved far too rapidly for lip reading to be possible. His voice had risen letting me hear a muffled version of the conversation. Still, it received no answers. The language didn't even sound English. I reached over to let myself out, ignoring his direct order. I didn't take orders from my boss so why would I take orders from him. But the continuous clicking of the locks pelted into my skull until he made it back to the car.
"Really, now you’re holding me captive?"
His hazel eyes bored into mine, absent of all the humor and light that they had carried so far.
"Who did you call?" Maybe now he'd like to answer some questions. Answers equaled solutions and I could really use some solutions right about now.
"Sebastian said if you are powerful enough to stop the car then you have enough power to start it." His face echoed my sentiment. There wasn't a chance in hell that I could do that. I still didn't want to believe that I was the reason we were stranded out here to begin with.
"I am not a witch!" I said in protest.
"We'll see." Okay we were back to the two word responses.
"You all think I'm a witch?" My life as this point felt much like this car. It was on a road going nowhere.
"Look. I. Cannot. Tell. You. Anything. Else." His words were slow and loud like he was beginning to think I was deaf and dumb.
"Just start the damn car." He sounded tired almost as if he was just as sick of all this as I was.
"How?" Now I was pleading. How could I fix something when I had no clue how it had happened to begin with? If he would just give a little I could grasp onto it and figure things out without him breaking whatever code of silence he was bound to.
"If I knew that I would have already done it."
"So all Sebastian said was that I knew how to fix this?" He lifted his arms up in the universal sign for isn't that what I just said and left it at that. I wracked my brain, digging around trying to find the answer to a question that I didn't know only to come up empty. So I did what any girl would do and dug out my cell. I was supposed to call Jonathon back in an hour so what better time than now. But Richland was quicker. In a blink he had my phone in his hand.
"No, Jonathon cannot help you."
"Nobody can help me! At least nobody wants to help me!" I reached to grab my phone but his reflexes were far too quick. Pity reared its ugly head once more in Richland's features. The only two options I had left were to tap into the anger that was building and attempt to retrieve my phone or try to start the car with my mind. The latter sounded a bit crazy. Another option sounded even better. Use this to my advantage
"If you answer some of my questions, honestly, then I will try to fix your car."
He laid his head against the steering wheel. I didn't like the silence one bit. It felt too harsh against the craziness within.
"One question, one answer." His reluctance rang clear in his words.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Who am I?"
That was the million dollar question. Everything that had happened brought me back to this very point. Richland sat staring into the darkened expanse of woods that surrounded his car. The minutes ticked by. The weight of my question was becoming heavier and heavier. If he thought his silence would derail me from the answer he was mistaken. I didn't like secrets; especially the ones about me. He turned to face me, slow and deliberate. A single tear tracked down his solemn face. My heart sank and my chest felt as though a brick took up all the space. Was it that bad to cause a stranger to suffer so much?
"You are my sister," he whispered. Surely I had heard him wrong. Maybe I reminded him of his sister. The confession pulled at that part of me that had fought to stay away. Keep itself unknown. I began to suffocate. I grabbed at my own throat trying to rip it open to let the air in. Even the cool breeze that came steady through Richland's open window was unable to push air into my lungs. Fire burned up my skin as the moonlight dimmed in and out. I could hear Richland's voice as it moved in and out. He sounded like a grown up from a Peanuts cartoon. I tried to grasp on to what little I could see and hear but my hold on my consciousness was diminishing far too quickly. Finally the world faded away to nothingness.
The wet, hard feel of the wood helped me remain awake as searing pain sliced across my naked back. Tears streamed from my eyes into a pool of blood that slid down my body onto the stone floor. Though my vision was blurred, I could still see the audience that has gathered to watch my public lashing. Soon their growing numbers would only be known to me through sound. My battered knees stung from the shards of rock that had purposely been laid out as an additive to my punishment. I scanned the crowd through swollen lids to find my family. In the very front stood my mother and sister; shame and disbelief consumed their features that are so much like mine. But my mother stood cold and disconnected; nothing of how she felt could be read on her face. She had told me once that she would love me no matter what I decided and I held that knowledge close. She would still love me even when the town had cast me out.
I weakly pulled at the ropes that bound me to the pole. It was no use. I was far too weak to break ropes that had been created especially for me. The villagers’ screams hurt far worse than any physical punishment. Men, women, and even children declared me a sinner and a whore. My family remained silent, leaving me what little respect they could. My mind pushed aside the pain, numbing the areas that had pulled tears down my bloodied face. A result of his punishment that had taken place behind closed doors.
I could feel them just beyond the town's gates but knew they couldn't pass. The wards were far too strong. The wolves' mournful bays pierced my heart causing much deeper wounds than the lashing against my back. I couldn't beg for forgiveness because for them what I have done is unforgivable. My body went slack against the pole; my breath no longer came at regular intervals.
"How could you do this to your own daughter?" I tried to ask him but small moans had replaced the words that I so desperately wanted to speak.
Rays of sunlight that shone between the blinds woke me. I knew immediately that I was lying in my bed at the Inn. Pulsing pain shot through me like a rocket bringing to life the flower on my chest. I ran my hands down my body. Pain from nonexistent wounds ghosted along my back. Blinking away the lingering sleep, realization slammed into me. I was lying atop of my bed still in my clothes from the day before. The events from yesterday tumbled through me followed by more powerful questions. My whole body shook with the assault on my emotions. Coming here was supposed to be my escape from the mundane. I was supposed to find answers to what I wanted to do with my life. Instead I stepped into a myriad of problems well beyond the norm.
Images from my dream mixed in with reality causing the pain in my chest to border excruciating; the mural that I painted with n
o artistic ability what so ever, stopping the world on command, and the possibility that Richland was my brother. The last part was absurd. I knew my parents and the love they had for me; they would never conceal the fact that I had a brother out there somewhere. Adoption was off the table as well. There is a birth video boxed away in the hall closet that my mother insisted on gifting me for my tenth birthday. I had yet to watch it and I didn’t think I ever would.
I really wanted to hide away in my bed until all the scary stuff was over but I came here to become an adult and hiding wasn't what they did. Instead I pulled myself out of bed and tried to blanket myself with as much confidence as possible. Maybe Jo would be able to give me an explanation to what my brain refused to process. I wanted something easy. Yet Jo was another issue that I couldn't work out. Why was she so adamant that we avoid Sebastian and his shop? Richland didn't seem too thrilled about Jo's presence in the shop either.
Richland. Even thinking his name conjured something much stronger within. I took a few desperate breaths to try to clear the weight of it all before it crushed me. With mechanical precision I stripped out of my clothes. A warm shower sounded perfect right about now. I gave the alarm clock a passing glance; the time stopped me dead in my tracks. Work; I had been so caught up in my own issues that work was far from my mind. I scrounged around in my bag for my cell phone. I was sure that I had a million missed calls by now. Maybe I would get lucky and get fired via voicemail and wouldn't even have to go in.
"Huh, no missed calls," I voiced out loud. I toyed with the idea of not calling Jonathon but guilt won out. After all, he did let me have a phone the least I could do was try to explain why I completely skipped out on work. Without even thinking of a proper excuse I tapped call under his name. As the phone rang against my ear a soft knock preceded the swiping sound that a key card makes just before the door swung open.
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