The Novice

by Ava Lohan

  How could taking me out on the motorcycle fix whatever happened in the past?

  He pointed at me with the key. “It doesn’t have to mean anything to you. It means something to me.”

  He continued on toward the unknown destination. I quickened my step and caught up with him around the corner. The sight of the underground garage, as big as a house, made me want to burn it to the ground like a pyromaniac.

  We stood in front of a wall of shelves filled with helmets in every color. Kegan stopped in his tracks, causing me to almost run into him. He studied the shelves as if I didn’t exist. He would never open up to me, he would never go back to the topic, and I was finding it impossible to digest it all. I had told him everything about my family and he was so cautious in what he told me.

  “Green or purple helmet?”

  Kegan was cool and calm. It made my blood boil.

  I took a deep breath and bit my tongue to prevent myself from yelling out insults. Insults for bringing me to his sexual amusement park, for this attraction that I couldn’t control, for keeping me in the dark about everything and treating me like his property, just another car to play around with. He was taking our contract seriously—I was his. Like those damn helmets he was staring at, like the clients he cared nothing about.

  “Red?” I ventured.

  He let out an annoyed sigh. “Green,” he decided for me.

  He took it off the shelf and handed it over to me without ceremony. It was the first time I’d ever held a helmet. It was heavy. I managed its weight for a fraction of a second before his hands were around my waist and my feet were in the air.

  “Hey, what the hell are you doing?”

  “Isn’t it inappropriate to talk like that where you’re from?” he quipped as he threw me over his shoulder.

  I swore in response and punched his back. “Put me down, now.”

  Kegan pretended he couldn’t hear me and started walking. I held the helmet by the chin strap while my eyes saw the world from a different perspective, with my legs flailing in the air and one hand grabbing the jacket of the first guy to ever carry me.

  “I told you I hate waiting,” he teased. He was now running as easily as if he had a blow-up doll over his shoulder. “This is the consequence of making me wait.”

  He held me tight with his free hand. This position was giving me a stomachache. If his jacket tore, he only had himself and his ways to blame.

  “Is this how you treat your clientele? Now I understand why they call you a beast.”

  “I’ve actually never carried anyone like this before.” His arm held the top of my legs firmly. The contact with his skin only made me dizzier. “But I have to admit it’s fun.”

  He smacked my butt with his free hand. “What do you think?”

  I mumbled an insult and he burst out laughing. He turned. I closed my eyes for a second.

  “I’d rather walk,” I complained, even if feeling his arm under my butt wasn’t that bad.

  “Pray to me and maybe I’ll let you down.”

  I let out another stream of swear words. Silence. Kegan’s footsteps. Silence. I thought I wouldn’t hear his voice for some time, but I was wrong. He stopped.

  “Hold the helmet up so it doesn’t hit me, or I’ll take the money for a new jacket from your contract.” He was serious again.

  “Yes, master,” I snarled.

  He grabbed me by the hips and slid me slowly down his body, as if he wanted me to feel every part of him. Chest. Hips. Thighs. Forbidden areas. It was his revenge for not choosing a car to receive his coup de grace. His dangerous smile confirmed that my suspicion was right.

  The glare I shot him did nothing more than transform that smile into a glimpse of heaven. His teeth were immaculate, the exact opposite of him. For the first time, I thought that not even a truly devout virgin like Sara would be able to resist someone like Kegan.

  My feet were finally back on the ground. I didn’t need to turn around to know that he was standing behind me, next to the motorcycle I was beginning to hate. His arm was still suspended in mid-air, far from his body. Kegan took my helmet and fumbled with the chin strap. Two seconds later he was placing it over my head and strapping me in.

  “You know, I think you’re going to regret this.” He couldn’t mask his delight. The word regret echoed in my mind. Equal to his euphoria was my panic. “Because I don’t care that it’s your first time. I’m going to go so fast you’ll wish you’d never challenged me.”

  Damn you Jenna. Damn my curiosity. And damn that green helmet strapped firmly to my head.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It didn’t go exactly as Kegan had warned. Despite his racing through the streets, I wasn’t afraid, nor did I regret my insistence. It wasn’t how Jenna had always described it. Riding on the back of Kegan’s motorcycle wasn’t like flying. It was just Kegan, with my arms around him, my chest pressed against his back and my thighs glued to his jeans. The city flew by—everything that I saw was quickly forgotten to make space for what came next. When he finally stopped and I had to get off, it was like waking up from a dream that I never wanted to end.

  “Riding again was…” Kegan put his helmet under the seat and caressed the leather like it was a dog’s head. “It was…” He stopped trying to finish his sentence and whistled, incapable of finding a better way to express the happiness taking control of him.

  “It was going over the speed limit and risking getting pulled over.” My scolding had no effect on his mood. I touched my hair, imagining the damage the helmet had done to my ponytail. I tugged on the elastic, wrapped it around my wrist and ran my fingers through my blond hair in an attempt to make it somewhat presentable. Kegan shrugged his shoulders.

  “I pay a lot of speeding tickets. They’ll never take away my license, though,” he said with a smug grin. “It’s one of the perks of mixing with high society. You can always corrupt someone, one way or another.”

  I’d never seen him so happy. The smile on his face as he touched his bike was different, not one of the ones he used to seduce his victims. It was sincere, devoid of any sexual connotations. You could see it in his eyes. Oh, how I wanted to take off his sunglasses to see the euphoria exuding from every part of him. I settled for his dimples and admired them in awe.

  The Kegan Anderson now standing in front of me was no sovereign of a sexual paradise. He was just a normal guy, like all the other ones walking past us along this Long Island road.

  And it was embarrassing—it looked like we were on a real date. Something I had never experienced before. Kegan must have read my mind because he stopped smiling instantly, as if he had just realized what kind of smile I had just witnessed. He then sealed his lips shut, and I said a silent goodbye to that innocent grin, imagining I would never see it again. Just a few days more and I would never see him again either.

  Kegan gave one last look at the motorcycle and put on the impenetrable armor that I knew perfectly well. “Let’s go,” he said as he touched my arm, and we blended in with the passersby.

  We were on a street that I didn’t know. I’d never had the chance to see Long Island on foot. We passed one shop after another. Expensive clothing, jewelry so jaw dropping that I didn’t bother wondering how much any of it cost. Judging by the last window we passed, we must have been on one of the most exclusive streets in the city, if not the most exclusive. A street where someone from my social class could look—maybe dream—but definitely couldn’t buy. Kegan, on the other hand, could have probably emptied every single one of the shops without any harm to his fortune.

  Neither of us spoke, but the silence between us didn’t bother me this time. He stopped every once in a while to look in a window and I took advantage of the opportunity to observe him without getting caught. I wasn’t interested in the window displays. Kegan was a much better attraction. All of my being focused on him. His movements, the way he stopped to look at items on display, the way he smoked.

  He seemed to attract the attention of ev
eryone who passed by, but he didn’t seem to care.

  Like a god who’d descended from the heavens to join us on the sidewalk, his presence was overwhelming. Everyone who walked past us that day was drawn to his face and body, even for just a brief second.

  My heart beat faster and faster every time someone turned toward me and I risked being found out. His cell phone rang. Kegan stopped and I followed suit. We were standing in front of a shop selling sunglasses. He looked at the frames on display—I checked out his backside. I overheard two girls commenting on it moments before and decided to have another look. They were right: he was devastating from behind too, especially in those black jeans. And those poor girls hadn’t even had the chance to see him without clothes.

  “What are you doing?”

  I jumped back, feeling like a pervert. I raised my gaze for a nanosecond, just enough time to see his dark lenses pointed at me. My body flared. Shit. The question was more than valid—he had caught me red-handed.

  “Were you looking at my ass, Sister Rose?”

  His shock was directly proportional to my embarrassment. I didn’t know what to say and concentrated on his ringtone. Demons by Imagine Dragons. Each note rang louder and louder, but he didn’t answer. The only way to dodge his question was to ask another one.

  “Are you going to answer?”

  “It’s Finn. I already know what he’s going to ask.”

  He declined the call.

  “So, you were looking at my ass.” He said it loudly, attracting the attention of a couple that had just walked by. They turned to look at me. Kegan laughed. The couple were just a few steps ahead of us.

  “Did you see the way they looked at me? You’re an idiot,” I snarled.

  I glared at him but he didn’t back down.

  “I have a nice ass, Sister Rose—it’s perfectly normal to look at it. Or, then again, maybe it’s not, considering you want to spend the rest of your life in seclusion and chastity.”

  His challenge was interrupted by a new passerby. Damn it: that guy had heard it too. Was Kegan trying to make me die of embarrassment?

  “I was looking at the sunglasses. You’re the one who thinks about sex all the time, remember?”

  His phone started ringing again but he still didn’t answer, letting the song play as we stared each other down. His eyes were shielded by his Cartier sunglasses while mine were exposed, trying desperately to get him to stop provoking me.

  “On a scale from one to ten, how much do you want me to take these off right now?” he teased, touching his jeans.

  “One?”

  I didn’t answer. His fingers were on the button.

  “Two?” He unbuttoned his jeans. A malicious smile spread across his face. “Shall I go straight to ten or will you admit you were looking at my ass?” He pinched the zipper between his thumb and index finger. “Ten.” He slowly unzipped his fly.

  My eyes narrowed and my jaw dropped. He was really going to take them off!

  “Jesus Christ, contain yourself.” I ran up to him and pulled his hand away from there. “Yes, I was looking at your butt. Are you happy now?”

  He had turned off my embarrassment button and had turned on my irritation. He just shrugged and adjusted his jeans. The chorus of his ringtone inspired my next question.

  “Do you wear those glasses to hide your demons?” This time it was me turning a part of him off.

  His sarcasm switched off and his indifference came back on. Kegan tensed up. “What are you talking about?”

  I must have touched a nerve. This time it was my lips that curled into a provocative smile. “Your ringtone.” I sang along to the chorus. “You wear your sunglasses so I can’t see your demons. You’re hiding something. Easy.”

  He declined the call again. “You’re not making any sense. I don’t like the sun in my eyes.” He put his phone on silent before looking up at me again. “You need some sunglasses, too.” He changed the subject and ushered me into the store. It was useless to protest.

  Once we were inside, Kegan made me try on a million pairs, shaking his head or spitting out a merciless no with every frame. I knew that the glasses were just a distraction—I must have really gotten to him. And now I was curious to know his secrets, even if they had nothing to do with me.

  “No,” he said for the thousandth time.

  “Yes,” I said, contradicting him. “I like them. They’re purple and purple is my favorite color.” They were a bit big, but I positioned them the best I could to stop them from sliding down my nose. If he really didn’t like them, then that would be an even more valid reason to fall in love with them.

  “They’re falling down your nose and they aren’t doing anything for me.” Kegan turned to the sales assistant. “Put them back.”

  “No,” I protested.

  “Take those glasses away.”

  The girl didn’t know what to do. She kept looking at him, standing near the mirror with his arms crossed, and then at me, sitting on a stool in front of the mirror. We were the only customers in the shop and most likely the worst she had ever had to deal with in her entire career. I saw the panic in her eyes and felt sorry that we were causing her distress. She was definitely looking forward to seeing us leave. I couldn’t blame her. She approached me cautiously.

  “May I?” she asked timidly, extending her hand in my direction.

  I sighed and handed her the sunglasses. She looked relieved as she put them back on the shelf. I did it for her, not to please Kegan. He must have understood, as he then slid his sunglasses down his nose to flash me a fiery look.

  “Take those glasses from the window,” he said without taking his eyes off me. “The purple Cartier pair. From the new collection.”

  The shop assistant took off like a rocket. I hardly had time to catch up to her before she showed up in front of me with the glasses that I could never afford in hand. They were gorgeous, and man did they look great on me. They were the perfect fit. Kegan kept watching me. I tried my best to avoid his gaze and focused on my reflection in the mirror.

  “These are nice,” I admitted in defeat.

  “They look good on you.”

  His compliment activated the butterflies in my stomach.

  “They’re perfect!” the salesgirl said, showing more enthusiasm than necessary. She couldn’t wait for us to leave. “Your boyfriend is right, they look amazing on you.”

  She took the sunglasses from my face as one word echoed in my mind like an alarm. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend? Kegan didn’t say anything. He didn’t protest the use of the term or make a joke. I had the feeling that he was testing me with his silence. I hardly recognized him: he was staring at the floor in apparent discomfort. His nails dug into his palms. His glasses hid his eyes. What was he doing? Was he testing me to see how I would respond, or was he actually speechless?

  The salesgirl probably wasn’t the only one who thought we were together. The couple on the street might have thought so as well. The butterflies in my stomach were going wild. My heart galloped. Oh, how I loved this illusion. Kegan, on the other hand, definitely didn’t. He looked like he was about to lose his lunch. I killed the butterflies, steadied my heartbeat, and went on the defensive.

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  Silence. Both of them looked at me. The salesgirl apologized profusely, mortified for what she had said, making me regret my bitter tone. Kegan looked up from the ground but didn’t say a word. The embarrassment passed and we made our way to the cash register, where I obviously wasn’t going to pay. I only had five dollars shoved in the back pocket of my jean shorts. The sales assistant’s attitude had now surprisingly changed, evident in her admiration of Kegan. She smiled at him one, two, five times in one minute.

  I frowned. “I’ll pay you back the second we get back to your perverse house,” I said, raising my voice when I said the word perverse. I would have grabbed a stack of hundred dollar bills and given him back more than he was about to spend.

  The sa
lesgirl looked at me from under a raised eyebrow before turning her attention back to Kegan. It wasn’t hard to imagine what was going through her mind. Perhaps she wasn’t in as much of a rush to get him out of the door now that she knew we weren’t together. But she sure wouldn’t have minded having me out of her way.

  She wasn’t even trying to hide her interest. Her fake shy smiles were nauseating me.

  And Kegan? Kegan had focused his attention on her and her alone.

  “Are we ready?” I asked, tapping my fingers on the counter impatiently.

  He ignored me, like I was the third wheel in this situation. I cleared my throat. It didn’t help.

  “One minute. I just have to go check the price.”

  I no longer felt sorry for the salesgirl. Her voice now had a far more sexual tone than before. She was stalling on purpose. If I could go back in time, I would've made her get me another hundred pairs of sunglasses to try on and given her nightmares for the next ten nights. She was writing something down on a piece of paper. I watched her hand as it moved.

  Kegan distracted me. “You’ll pay me back all right. Both inside and outside of my perverse house.”

  He brushed his hand against my backside as a devious smile appeared on his face. He was as presumptuous as ever. I was on fire. So was the salesgirl. She placed the pen on the counter.

  “You know,” he said, looking straight at her, “I’ve never done it in a sunglasses shop.”

  Silence. Smiles on both their faces. Silence. She slipped him the piece of paper across the table.

  “What?” I exclaimed, indignant for what he’d said and what she’d done. He didn’t lose his composure in the least. My eyes were nearly bulging out of their sockets. He was flirting right in front of me. I’ve never done it in a sunglasses shop. I was both shocked and angry. I didn’t even know how to describe the feeling because I’d never experienced it before. The two emotions mixed together with the acid in my stomach, making me want to smash both their faces in. How could you possibly describe that?