Cursed, Book One of The Devils Roses

by Tara Brown

  He looked like he was trying to be relaxed but was failing miserably.

  I smirked at him, “Now we have officially met, don’t you want to talk about why I was on the floor throwing up?”

  He fought a smile still looking at me intently, I was reading the giant get lost he was sending my way but I ignored it as I continued, “I was drugged at a party. You were there, how do you know Shane?”

  He shook his head, “I don’t know Shane, and I wasn’t at the party. Who drugged you?” He didn’t seem interested at all but being polite by asking.

  I wondered if he was toying with me, “Everyone thinks YOU did.” I said boldly.

  His face dropped, “I would never do such a despicable thing. Why would you say that? Besides if I was apparently the one picking the vomit out why would I save you after trying to kill you?”

  Unaware that we were still holding hands I watched him seem to struggle with being near me.

  I looked him deeply in the eyes, it was hypnotic, “You swear on my mom’s grave you never drugged me?”

  He flinched, “God you don’t kid around do you?” He looked me severely in the eyes back and squeezed my hand faintly, “I have never and will never drug you. I could never hurt you.”

  I hadn’t taken a breath in a while and started to feel light headed though I’m not entirely certain it wasn’t from being drawn to him more than anything in the entire world.

  “You are so familiar to me.” I whispered still close to his face, his lips were inches from mine. I could feel the heat of his breath on my mouth. He dropped my hand leaving it hanging in the air cold suddenly.

  “Maybe you dreamt of me Aimee.” He smiled the most delicious smile I had ever seen. He looked liked he was struggling with something though internally.

  I backed away needing to come out of the bubble we had somehow stepped into where we were the only people in the world.

  “Beloved.” He whispered.

  I was speechless; it had been a long time since anyone had said that word, “What?” I felt the color draining from my face.

  “Your name it means beloved.” He looked distractedly at me and shook his head.

  I took another step away from him, “How do you know that?”

  “Je parle français.” He spoke tenderly.

  I nodded, “well your name means great protector.” I don’t even know why I said it but he started chuckling, “I know.”

  “My mom called me beloved, all the time.” There was gloom in my voice I couldn’t stop.

  He winced, “How did she die?” He was making conversation and being nice to me, but I could see by his flinching eyes he wanted badly to escape. Now that I had finally found him I wasn’t going to make it so easy.

  I never took my eyes off of him as I spoke quietly, “She was driving from the city to here, she started to get sleepy I guess even though it was mid day so she got out of the car on the side of the road and did some stretching. Sometimes she did that. There was a trucker driving toward her and a dog ran out in front of him, a big dog he said. Like a wolf. He swerved and lost control of the tandem trailers he was pulling. My mom was in front of the car when the back trailer swung around.”

  He cringed seeing the pain on my face, “I’m so sorry.”

  I had never told the story before; those words had never left my mouth. I didn’t cry like I thought I would if I ever had to tell the story of my mom’s death. For some reason I was happy he was the one I told.

  “She was actually really close to home too, that’s the weird part. She was only about thirty minutes away. It was nine months ago.”

  He nodded, “That’s tragic.”

  “She was an art historian.” The words just kept popping out.

  He smiled, “The most complete detailed biographies in history are art.”

  I shook my head stunned, “That’s what my mom always said.”

  He laughed; it was like music to me, “I guess art lovers all feel that way. I am a huge art buff myself.”

  I was having a hard time to guess his age, he was a man of that I was certain but I couldn’t imagine him being twenty-five yet. His face was young looking but his eyes were wise.

  “Want to go for a coffee?” I asked quickly before he could end our conversation.

  He frowned trying to be polite, “I really need to get going.”

  I panicked wanting to grab his arm and drag him somewhere I could make him be mine.

  Seeing the desperation in my eyes he softened for a second, “well I guess one quick coffee wouldn’t kill.” He offered me his arm, he was a gentleman.

  I nodded, “Okay.” He must have been able to sense the relief in me as he agreed. He seemed so distant even though he was right beside me.

  I felt my phone going off in my pocket and smiled, “I need to tell my dad where we are going.” I grabbed my phone and texted my dad a message explaining I had gone for a coffee with a friend to talk about art.

  I put the phone back in my pocket certain my dad was texting me back but I ignored the texts and walked holding onto Aleksander's strong arm.

  He escorted me from the library across the street to the café called Cup O’Feelin, it was a jazz café that was seasonal and now that it was April it had reopened for the summer. Coastal towns rely a lot on tourism.

  “So what are you reading now?” He asked looking down at me, his gaze burned through me and I felt things a little nerd like me had only ever scoffed at.

  “Ancient medicinal practices, it’s riveting.” I replied smiling. I didn’t watch where I was walking and I didn’t look around me, I walked trusting him. Something about him made me feel so protected. I felt healthy again somehow stronger.

  He opened the door for me and waited as I walked through I only took my eyes off of him for the second it took him to walk in behind me.

  Adele was singing on the radio about love and hurting as we walked in, I could smell the coffee and fresh baked treats but I hungered for something I couldn’t quite name. I didn’t know what it was like to lust after someone. I wanted him to touch me, I actually envisioned him pulling his shirt off and then mine and how warm his skin would be next to mine. I imagined him soft and smooth but hard under his skin. I blushed nearly fanning myself and smiled at the woman at the counter. Oblivious to my existence she smiled at Aleksander and nearly drooled, “Why hello there, see anything you like?”

  I wanted to shout up and down, ‘I do I do.’

  Aleksander never took his eyes off of me, “Whatever the lady is having.”

  I smiled, at him and spoke to her, “Soy latté and a lemon tart please.”

  “Lemon for you as well?” She asked trying desperately to get his attention, he nodded and handed the cash to her but his eyes were locked on me.

  We looked like Bambi and Faline twitterpated unable to be around normal people, at least I did.

  I sat down at the table he guided me too and watched him get our coffees and tarts. Normally my favorite treat but I could barely taste it as I listened to him talk in a way that seemed nervous almost. I noticed the other women in the room were watching him almost as intently as I was.

  “So why are you here?

  He smiled, “Maybe this is my hometown.”

  I shook my head, “No way. You’re not from here so start talking.”

  He nodded, “You’re right I’m not from here,” he laughed and bit into his tart, “I am here for work. Just a couple weeks.” He started to chew; I had never noticed anyone eat before except Brad Pitt in Ocean’s Eleven but this was better. His cheeks and jaw muscles flexed while his lips glistened with the movement.

  I was entranced until suddenly the words sunk in, “What, a few weeks. Then where?”

  “Back home.” He shrugged.

  I shook my head, “Where is home?”

  “It’s far away from here, god this soymilk is disgusting.” He grimaced making me laugh. It seemed like he was letting himself relax a little.

  “It’s an acq
uired taste. Start with chocolate it’s easier that way.” Sipping my coffee was hard because my heart was panicking. He had a few weeks and that was it.

  “Where are you staying Aleksander?” I wondered if he liked Aleks better.

  “I am staying with the family I’m here helping. When my work with them is over I will be on my way unfortunately.”

  I frowned confused, “Are you like a social worker?”

  He nodded, “Exactly like a social worker. I can’t talk about it though, it’s confidential and I take that very seriously.” Again the stern nature was back. He was better at putting up walls than I was.

  I noticed for the first time he was wearing a beige shirt with a cross on it, “Are you’re a Christian?”

  He laughed, “I don’t think of it like that. I try not to classify religion that way. I believe in god but maybe not church. The cross on my shirt is mine to bear, that’s the meaning of the shirt.”

  I smiled, “I like it. That’s a smart idea. Instead of assuming god and Jesus will save you and you can sin and say sorry for your crimes. This way your crimes are yours and yours alone.”

  He lifted his mug up and drank making a face that made me burst into laughter. I notice the women in the café were also laughing at his face. I was getting a bit creeped out by the attention he was getting, “Is it always like this?”

  He looked around, “What?”

  “The women are staring at you, they look like they might attack any second.”

  He smirked his sexy smile at me, “Fresh meat in a small town gets notice. I could have three arms, to these women all I am is new. How do you feel about the boys in this small town? Do you judge them by the girls they’ve already dated?”

  I grimaced, “You have no idea.”

  I stuffed the last of my tart into my mouth and sucked back my latte, “Let’s go.”

  He stood as I did and walked ahead to get the door for me, I loved that about gentlemen. When we were outside again I nudged against him slightly, “What are you reading?”

  He laughed but his eyes bore down on me, “You.”

  I sucked my next breath in as my eyes widened. It scared me how intensely I liked him after half an hour.

  He nudged me back, “I am reading Bram Stokers Dracula, in Romanian.”

  I sighed, “How many languages do you speak?”

  He shook his head, “Too many to count.”

  I had felt proud until he had said that, “I only speak four. But I’m working on my fifth right now.”

  “I’m surprised the CIA hasn’t scooped you up yet, you’d be a good spy,”

  “You’re obviously not American I can hear an accent, it's faint and only present on the slightest words. Where are you from?”

  He laughed, “You’re very clever for what, eighteen?” He was asking my age, this was a good sign.

  I nodded, “Just. I graduate in less than two months.”

  We walked talking as the backs of our hands brushed against each other.

  “Where will you go after you grad?”

  “University in the city and then work in the city I guess. No more small towns.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

  “What do you want to be?” He asked staring out at the sea.

  I shrugged, “It was a doctor because I wanted to help people but recently I went to visit a friend at children’s hospital in the city and it broke my heart. Now I’m not sure where I fit.”

  He moved my hair out of my face as we stopped at the end of the pier and the wind had taken off with it, “You’re young, you will figure it out.”

  I looked up into his eyes, they looked as if they had crystals inside, and they sparkled with life. His face was that of a Greek statue from thousands of years earlier, perfect and chiseled. He looked so strong fierce when he stood there by the sea, I could imagine him as a king or great leader. He suited the strength of his name, like a Viking standing at the helm of the Great War ship.

  He looked at me shivering and frowned, “You’re getting cold.”

  I hadn’t noticed I was getting cold, I had felt great. “Sorry I didn’t realize. I’m still very weak.”

  He frowned, “Were you sick?”

  I glared at him trying to see if he was serious, “I was drugged at a party. We had this conversation remember?”

  He looked confused, “You were serious?”

  I nodded, “Yes. A man date rape drugged my friend’s drink and she and I shared it. She is actually in liver failure now at children’s. She is the friend I was visiting there.”

  He looked very angry and concerned, “That’s disgusting. What happened after you took the drugs?”

  I shrugged, “The memories are really fuzzy, but we were found in a pile of vomit each and she was taken to hospital right away. I apparently put myself to bed so everyone thought I was fine but the way I remember it was that you were there and I was choking and you got the vomit out of my throat and saved me. Then you cleaned me up and put me to bed.”

  He shook his head, “It must have been a dream. The man who drugged you never got a hold of you though?” He truly almost had me convinced I had dreamt him up.

  I shrugged, “We don’t know, we don’t think so. But he’s following me now. He is stalking me.”

  He grabbed my arms quite firmly unexpectedly, “You need to be very careful then. He means business if he’s stalking you after drugging you.”

  I winced, “You’re hurting me.”

  His grip loosened instantly, “Sorry, it just makes me so angry. I can't stand the idea of anyone hurting you least of all me, sorry about that.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that sort of intensity or familiarity but my cell phone was going wacky in my pocket. “I have to get that.” I spoke softly pulling the phone out and looking at the dozen messages.

  I called my dad quickly, “Excuse me for a moment. Please just wait here.” I held up a hand and walk to the other side of the pier.

  My dad answered in a panic, “Hello.”

  “Hey dad.”

  He bellowed into the phone, “Do you have any idea what I have been going through this last hour. I sent Shane looking for you. I almost called the police young lady.”

  I shuddered, “Sorry, I just got caught up in the conversation I was having. It was refreshing to be a normal kid for an hour.”

  He groaned into the phone, “Aimee the coffee shop phoned and said you were having coffee with a strange man no one knows. He could be the psycho.”

  I shook my head as I looked down the pier at him, “No dad he’s not. I know his voice a little bit and this is not the guy. His mouth isn’t the same anyway. He’s a fellow art lover from the library not a crazed rapist. ”

  “Okay well I want you home in the next half an hour. You have school tomorrow and you’re going, for the full day. God I feel like I’m talking to your sister not you Aimee.” He hung up the phone and I felt a lot of guilt left dangling at the end of the conversation. My poor dad had been through enough, he didn’t need me acting like Alise to top things off. I looked down at the end of the pier again and I knew I was going to have to find a way to be with Aleksander because the next three weeks were going to fly by.

  The pier held private moorage all summer long so it was starting to fill up and in the midst of the boats and docks I couldn’t see him. I looked around and I was alone.

  I tried to run back around the corner to see the entrance to the docks but my side hurt too much so I slowly walked but he was gone. I wanted to cry but at the entrance I saw Shane walking down the pier with a stressed and worried look on his face.

  He looked beautiful in his jeans and dark blue t-shirt, which made his troubled blue eyes stand out more. He looked relieved as he frowned at me, “Aimee you need to be more careful, where is he?” Shane spoke softly taking my hand as he stopped directly in front of me. He looked hurt which made me feel sick, I hadn’t done anything to feel guilty for, technically.

  I shrugged, “I don’t k
now, he was here and then he left. At least now I know who the guy with the crazy blue eyes from your party. His name is Aleksander. How could you possibly know already I was with him?”

  Shane shook his head looking at me with disappointment filling his expression, “Thelma at the coffee shop called your dad, Aimee where is he?” He ended the sentence angrily.

  I shivered from the cold ocean air, “I don’t know. I phoned my dad and he was gone.”