by Alice Ward
He turned off the main road onto a dirt path. Beneath the palm trees and the cry of the monkeys, we went up an incline, roaring through the jungle until the path met a wooden barrier. There, Corey parked the bike and helped me off. The earth was soft beneath my feet, much more wholesome than the city streets.
“You okay?” he asked, inspecting me, full of concern.
“I will be. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” he said, irritated. “It was my fault you were in trouble. I shouldn’t have let you wander the market alone. I should have met you at your hotel room.”
“I’m not a child,” I argued for his benefit. “I should have known better than to wait in an alley. When I didn’t see the blue column, I should have stood near the stalls.”
He pushed my hair back from my face. “There was no blue column, not anymore. They must have torn it down.”
“But you found me anyway,” I said, grateful. “I’m beginning to think you have some sort of superpower.”
“It’s your magnetism,” he countered, pulling me close. “You draw me in.”
He was pressed against me, his skin touching mine. I could feel his heart, and his need. It grew against my thigh, large and stiff. His breath smelled of passion. I leaned forward to taste it, to forget everything that happened earlier, but Corey stepped back.
“You’ve had a rough morning,” he said, clearly struggling against his integrity and his desire. “I hope what I’m about to show you can make it a little more pleasant.”
Only if what you’re about to show me is your naked body.
I didn’t need his chivalry. I needed his touch. He wouldn’t be taking advantage of me. I’d wanted him since the moment I first saw him.
I’d never been very direct when it came to men. I wasn’t bashful, but I was cautious. Being around Corey was different. I had no guard. I was sand running through his fingers, but I couldn’t tell him, as much as I wanted to. I had to maintain some dignity, so I followed him into the jungle, trusting him with my life but not my yearnings, not yet, not until the moment was right for both of us.
“Were you born in Chicago?” I asked him as we walked. Corey kept a steady pace beside me, refusing to let me out of his sight.
“Born and raised.”
“But you weren’t happy there.”
He laughed. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you need the world,” I said, quoting what he told me at the bar.
“You remember that?”
I looked down at my shoes. “It’s a little hazy.”
“You’re right. I wasn’t happy in Chicago. My life there was restricted. People were constantly watching over my shoulder. It was fucking intolerable. So I left.”
“To be the Batman of the jungle.”
“And the desert. And the artic. I’ve been all over.”
“But you’re so young,” I pointed out. He was only a few years older than me. “What are you, twenty-eight?”
“Close enough.”
“How do you afford it?”
“I can’t,” he confided, but he said no more.
I probably didn’t want to know. Corey was lawless. Who knew how a man with his bravery and strength earned his passage. He could be a hired gun. Or a courier for international mobsters. He hadn’t volunteered his last name, and there was probably a reason for it.
“Will you ever go home?” I asked, hopeful.
“I might,” he said, smiling, his eyes growing soft. “If there’s something at home waiting for me.”
It wasn’t a promise, but it made me soar, destroying all the bad of the morning.
“I’m glad I met you,” I said, nudging his shoulder.
“I’m glad you met me too.”
We hiked until we came to the ruins of a temple. Amid fallen stones browned with age sat a Buddha statue twice our height. He wore a pointed crown over his serene smile, and his arms draped neatly over his folded legs. I pictured my grandma sitting beside him in the same position, and a wedge of my grief healed.
“This is the kind of peace I hope to find in my own life,” I said, speaking frankly, running my hand across the Buddha’s foot. “A peace that’s settled and calm.”
“That’s what you say, but I’ve seen your hair loose, and your soul set free,” Corey said, his deep voice dropping even lower, full of an unmistakable longing. “You’re as wild as this jungle. You’re as wild as me.”
“We’ll see,” I said simply, but unable to agree. “Thank you for bringing me here. I feel better.”
His eyes sparkled. “We’re not here yet. Follow me.”
We continued up the path. I couldn’t imagine anywhere more impressive than the temple, but when we stopped once more, my breath was taken from me.
In front of us, a herd of elephants bathed in a shallow lake that was fed by a crystal clear waterfall. Green flora cascaded down from the rocky incline, their undergrowth weeping. One of the elephants held its trunk up into the pouring water, drinking it in and spraying it back out.
“They’re magnificent,” I said. “Are they safe?”
“They are. We’re on a reserve. Armed guards patrol the land.”
“This is wonderful.” I took an eager step forward, but Corey held me back. “Slowly. We don’t want to startle them. They’re used to people, but they’re still protective of their young.”
After I stripped down to my bikini, we took small steps into the lake, wading up to our hips. I fell to my knees, immersing myself in the water, enjoying its caress. When I resurfaced, I was renewed, full of a hot energy I couldn’t ignore. The elephants weren’t far, but I didn’t want to disturb them. Instead, I turned towards Corey, who followed behind me, making sure I kept my footing.
“I love the way you care for these animals,” I said to him, the simple sentence feeling like the most truthful I’d ever spoken.
Before he could respond, I pushed myself against him, our bodies meeting in the warmth of the lake, and I kissed him, offering him my passion. He took it readily, his mouth hard against mine, his lips burning me like the sun. I felt mystical in his arms, boundless. I could have easily drowned in the kiss, but Corey broke away, his eyes seemed to be lit from within as he blatantly admired all that I had to give.
“I knew you were wild,” he professed.
Drops of water dripped down from my hair, running sensually across my shoulders and chest before returning to the lake. Corey traced them with his finger, lingering where my bikini top scooped down. Licking his lips, he cupped my breasts and kissed me again, this time with much more force. His kiss hurt, in the right way, filling me with pleasure.
Needing more, I reached into the water and pressed my hand against his cock. He was hard, ready to plunge inside me, to gratify me as his tongue did now, vigorous and relentless. As he pulled down the straps of my bikini, moving his kisses to my shoulders, I let go of his cock and tugged at my bottoms, ready to open myself to him.
“Hang on,” Corey commanded, looking around.
“Don’t stop,” I pleaded, not caring if there was danger. I needed his sex. Needed him. Needed us.
“I think people are approaching.”
I froze, my desire betrayed by my dignity. “Are you sure?”
“Unfortunately.” It seemed to strain him to say it, like his ache matched my own.
“Does it matter?” I teased, rubbing my hands along his abs, tempting him.
In response, he nibbled at my ear. “You’re not the good girl you make yourself out to be,” he whispered as he helped me pull the bottom of my bikini back up. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
“Next time,” I echoed, disappointed. “I don’t think there’ll be a next time. My flight leaves tomorrow morning.” I perked up. “Unless you want to stay with me in my hotel?”
“I can’t,” he said, his face twisted in torment. “After I drive you back, I’m scheduled to help out here at the reserve.”
“Then let’s meet here at t
he lake at midnight. We can finish what we started.”
He shook his head. “It’s treacherous in the dark. There are more than poachers in the jungle, creatures that bite. There are many things I want to do to you, things your body will never forget, but one thing I won’t do is put you in danger. Not again.”
I was crestfallen. “So this is goodbye?”
“No,” Corey assured me. “This isn’t goodbye. I’ll find you, Imogen. You know I will.”
***
Packing was hard. Soon, I’d be far from Corey and any chance we had to be together. The next morning, when I reluctantly dropped my key off to the receptionist at the hotel, I felt as if I was leaving a piece of my heart behind with it.
“Cute elephant,” she said, pointing to the plush trinket attached to my rucksack. “They say an elephant never forgets. They mourn loss, like we do. When they return from their migration, they visit the bones of those they left behind.”
“That’s sad but beautiful,” I said to her. “Is that everything you need from me?”
“You’re checked out,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips. “Thank you for your stay.”
“Thank you. This trip turned out to be very enlightening.”
At the airport, when I was instructed to put my rucksack on the conveyer belt to baggage, I quickly unhooked the elephant and stuck it in my pocket. I couldn’t lose it. It was my reminder of Corey, so that I would never forget.
Perhaps I should have forgotten. Compared to what I was about to endure in Chicago, Thailand was a sweet daydream, even with its dangers. A heat existed in Chicago that had nothing to do with the sun. It was ruled by the night, a black velvet that aroused and smothered. There were thrills, there was pain, and there was pleasure. So much pleasure.
CHAPTER TWO
The Midwest
With a sleek skyline that reflected against the waters of Lake Michigan, Chicago wasn’t a city. It was an empire, ruled by the men and women who sat on the upper floors of its skyscrapers, nobles of the city. There was an order to the city that made it glide. Compared to the relative ease of Milwaukee, being in Chicago was like peering through the engine of a really fast car.
Not that I knew much about fast cars. Rusted and loud, my little yellow hatchback that I’d driven to Chicago showed its age. I’d put daisy stickers on the back window to try to perk it up, and I’d hung my elephant trinket over the rearview mirror, but stickers and elephants couldn’t keep it from falling apart. With the engine constantly stalling, I’d be lucky if it made it back to Milwaukee in one piece.
The hatchback had been my grandma’s car, before she was confined to a wheelchair. I should have put aside some of my inheritance to buy a new car, one that would survive the year. But I couldn’t part with my sunshine on wheels, not until the day the engine refused to turn over, and even then I’d probably keep it in the garage, a monument to the life I’d known before I was without a job or family.
The hatchback was parked down the block, a short walk from where I stood now. Before me loomed a skyscraper that absorbed the dark gray clouds that hung above the city, to the point that it appeared black and windowless, its only light the fiber optic cherry blossoms outside, a telltale sign I was in the right place — Stafford Scientific, one of the most reputable technological companies in the world.
It was legendary, but I was nameless. There was no way Stafford Scientific would hire me, not for any position of significance. They filled their halls with geniuses, those who held degrees that made my master’s degree look like a crumpled piece of paper. My hands began to sweat, moistening the envelope I held. I wiped my palms against the pleats of my blue skater dress, afraid my nerves would dehydrate me.
“Corey, what were you thinking?” I mumbled.
I didn’t know how Corey had managed to arrange the interview for me. I hadn’t heard from him since I’d left Thailand weeks ago. I often thought of him, of his arms wrapped around me in the lake, of what would have happened if we hadn’t been interrupted. I believed that he would find me, that we hadn’t said our last goodbyes. Hope that I would see him again had propelled me here, alone in an unfamiliar city, as much as my desperate need for a job.
I’m going to be laughed out of the building.
If I was, Corey could still find me in Milwaukee, evident by the letter I held in my hand, my invitation from Stafford Scientific to interview with them. It’d been delivered directly to my grandma’s house, which had been passed down to me. I guess that made it my house, but I didn’t think of it that way. I didn’t want to. My grandma had worked hard for it. My only claim to it was her death.
The invitation from Stafford Scientific didn’t mention the position I was being considered for. Based on my lowly master’s degree, if I were hired, I’d probably spend the day fetching coffee for the geniuses or mopping up after their experiments. I didn’t care. I wanted the job. I needed the change as much as the money, a life that was far from the loneliness I felt in Milwaukee. After Thailand, Milwaukee wasn’t as appealing as it had once been.
Holding tightly onto the straps of my canvas bag, which I wore over my skater dress and a cardigan, I braced myself. I had no idea of what waited for me inside the skyscraper. The dark exterior was its armor, protecting its secrets. Pushing myself forward, I tapped a cherry blossom, which glowed brighter under my touch, and passed through the automatic doors to face my destiny.
Where am I? I thought, awestruck as I stepped into the lobby. And when am I?
The lobby rose up several stories, creating a wide open space filled with movement and innovation. A split staircase connected the mezzanine to the ground floor, the illuminated steps flashing a sequence of bold colors and abstract patterns. Huge digital screens were fixed across the marble flooring and along the staircase. On each screen, the image of a woman with mocha skin, profound brown eyes, and a friendly smile greeted all who passed by. With her stylish bangs and smooth complexion, she looked like she belonged on the cover of a magazine.
A digital assistant, I recognized. Fascinating. It’s like putting a face on Siri.
The lobby was full of people, most in lab coats, but they weren’t dressed like any scientists I knew. Their clothes were exquisite, as if they were attending a corporate event and the lab coats were an afterthought.
“Deborah O’Brien,” one of the scientists said to a nearby screen. “When is my first meeting?”
“One moment, please, Deborah,” the digital assistant responded. A few seconds later, a map of the building appeared. “Your meeting is at three o’clock this afternoon in the boardroom on the research floor. Would you like me to send the brief to your personal device?”
“Yes, please,” Deborah said. “Thanks.” And then she scurried off.
Though the building was dominated by the Technological Age, I was happy to see whoever designed it had incorporated natural elements into the lobby, as if saying the advancement of humankind was as organic as the woodlands outside the city. Tall plants thrived between the digital screens, and to the right a waterfall gushed from the wall, landing in a pond where koi fish swam. Best of all, on the ceiling were lights that charted all the constellations in the sky. The constellations that currently overlooked Chicago pulsed the brightest, a reminder that though we couldn’t see them, the stars, and all other aspects of science, constantly governed us.
Perhaps there was a place for me here after all even though Stafford Scientific wasn’t known for saving the whales or monitoring its carbon footprint. It invented contraptions that offered diabetes sufferers a painless way to inject insulin. Holograms and three-dimensional technologies were developed within its labs. Rumors circulated that they had made massive leaps in nanotechnology, little robots that could repair the human body from the inside.
I’d read almost every press release possible on the company to prepare for the interview, and none had mentioned anything concerning environmental conservation. But now, standing like a lost girl in the middle of the
lobby, it seemed there was more to Stafford Scientific than the newspapers reported.
“Miss Clare,” the digital assistant called out to me from a nearby screen. “Welcome to Stafford Scientific. I trust your drive from Milwaukee was not too bothersome?”
I whirled around, wondering how the hell she knew who I was. “Umm, no,” I answered awkwardly, gripping my canvas bag tighter. “It was fine.”
“Fantastic. Your interview will be on the top floor. Please make your way through security and to the elevators.” A map of the lobby appeared on the screen. “Security is located within the central booth.”
“Thanks,” I muttered.
At security, an elderly man with deep laughter lines sat in the booth behind a flat screen computer, his blue uniform perfectly starched. “Afternoon, doll,” he greeted. “I’m Old Ben. How can I help you today?”
“Hello,” I returned. “My name is Imogen Clare. I’m here for an interview.”
I reached into my bag for my driver’s license, but he waved his hand. “Not necessary. I have all your information here.” He leaned towards the computer. “Imogen Clare,” he instructed the machine, louder than what was likely necessary.
Sure enough, on a screen fixed to the front of the booth, my photo, my home address, and even a short personal history appeared. There was nothing too impressive to read. I’d done well in school, despite holding two jobs. My grandma had paid for my tuition, but my books and other costs were on me. Because I was either studying or working, I hadn’t gotten into much trouble.
I groaned. Yep, there it was. The one time I had been in trouble. When I was a senior, I’d been arrested for indecent exposure. A group of us had run naked into Lake Michigan, our decision ruled by the buzz of cheap wine, but we’d been released without charge.
My grandma’s death was mentioned at the bottom of the screen, as was my mother’s abandonment.
No known living family.
“You really do your research, don’t ya?” I asked, slightly uncomfortable with how transparent my life was.