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Unlocking Adeline (Skeleton Key)

Page 2

by J. D. Hollyfield


  “I come here a lot and I come for pussy. Ye willing to offer yers up for me tonight, sweet girl?” He lifts his beer bottle and without taking his eyes off mine, he takes a deep swig. I say nothing as my mouth hangs open in shock. He boldly just used the word p-u-s-s-y, and I definitely wasn’t prepared for that one. I stare at his Adam’s apple as he swallows. Wanting to follow that sip all the way down— “Ye gonna eye fuck me some more, princess, or shall we part from this shit hole and go somewhere? I’ll let ye have yer way with me all night long.”

  My mouth still hanging low, I twist to look at whoever is sitting next to me. Huh. It’s another dude. I turn back. Okay, so he is talking to me. “I’m a… I’m a…” If this was an audition to play the role of a gaping fish, I’d be nailing it. Adding to my uncomfortableness, he leans in, his warm breath hitting my still chilly earlobe. “What shall it be, princess?”

  Oh God, his voice. Have I mentioned he has an accent? And it’s like a sundae with both caramel and hot fudge, cold lemonade on a hot summers day, salted French fries right off the fryer—Focus, Addie. Vibrating sex voice or not, he’s not the guy I want to or should share my birthday kiss with. And definitely not one Dad would approve of.

  Trying to pull it together, “Um, yeah so, I’m just gonna have me a drink here and be on my way, alright, mate?” Oh my God, now I’m Australian?! I will die alone. I shake my head and turn toward the bar, needing a time out from this intense stranger.

  “What can I get you doll?” the bartender asks, placing his hands on the bar.

  “I’ll just have a beer. Anything on tap.” Beer is the closest form of alcohol my parents keep in the house, so I order what I know.

  “Sure thing. Can I see an ID?” Ugh. I hate this part. I should have just ordered water. “Yeah, of course. Duh. Only of age drinkers come to bars,” I give him the universal “Pfft” face and reach for my purse. You’re twenty-one now, Addie, chillax. I can totally be in here. I grab for my bag and realize the man hunk next to me has scooted in closer, his nearness causing my skin to shiver. Shit. What did I get myself into? I should have just gone home. Signed up for an online dating website. If I wanted to drink so badly, I should have picked up a six-pack on my way home, anything but this intense guy sitting next to me. To be honest, there was something familiar about him that drew me in. Like I knew him, but I would have remembered someone as intense as this guy. It’s probably because he’s your typical hot guy, rough around the edges, with that bad boy persona. The one with the accent that all girls fall for, and then end up hacked to pieces in an alleyway by the end of the night. Thankfully, that thought reminds me that something about him does scare me. Like I should be afraid. My dad’s warning once again brews to the tip of my mind. The typical whatever ye do, don’t talk to stranger’s speech.

  Come on, Addie, you’re not a kid anymore.

  I shake it off. I need to stop letting his fantasy world of crazy stop me from living my life.

  As the bartender places the beer in front of me, I grab for it, giving any reason not to have to make conversation. Maybe if I just ignore him, he’ll lose interest and leave.

  “Why don’t ye hurry up with that drink? I am eager to claim my little prize that so naughtily fell into my lap this evening.”

  I choke on the liquid in my mouth.

  Whoa! Hello, serious potty mouth. Too bad survey says, I’m a huge wimp and I’m going to forfeit this round. Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea. Even if I was dying for an adventure, there is no way I will go through with this. Tomorrow I will try picking up a guy at the movie theatre. Or the library.

  I take another sip struggling to get the beer down, but when I finally do, I pivot to face him and jump a tad at how close he is to me.

  “Whoa. Um, yeah, so… I’m sorry, but I don’t think…” I begin declining his offer, but my words trail off as our eyes meet. Immediately, he has this hold on me, one that forces us to keep eye contact. He makes me feel as if he’s not just staring at me, but completely through me. I try to pull away, but I can’t. My mind won’t let me. The more he holds me visually captive, the more I feel the recognition erupting inside of me. His eyes. Why do I know those eyes?

  Then, like a raging force, it hits me.

  It can’t be.

  Just like my dad’s stories.

  The man with a crescent moon embedded into his iris. But there is no way he’s… he’s…

  I fight harder to pull my eyes away from him, but I’m trapped in his visual hold. My body begins to gently tremble and without knowing it, I lift my hand to the man’s cheek.

  And I poke him.

  There is no way he can be real.

  Oh God. That feels like real skin. This sends my back dead stiff.

  No.

  It can’t be true.

  I turn and grab for my purse. His hand surges outward wrapping around my wrist. The moment he cloaks his hand around my arm, I feel my skin heat.

  “Stop, what are you doing?”

  “I think ye know, Adeline.”

  “Wh—what? How do you know my name? Let go of me.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to be happening.” His deep voice sending a spike of something through my body.

  “I’m… I’m not sure who you are, or how you know my name, but this seriously was a bad idea.” Super bad idea. I’m not sure what I was thinking. His eyes; they are just like in my dad’s stories. The crescent moon. The eyes of the prince who comes to claim his princess. Which is strange, because unlike in my dad’s stories, when he rescues his princess, this guy looks like he wants to kill me with just his stare. And right now, I think he is trying to. I try to pull my arm away from him, but his grip tightens.

  “Ye know who I am, Adeline. I can tell. The way ye look at me. The way yer skin tingles with acknowledgement. Ye were told about me. And now that I have found ye, it’s time ye return home.”

  “Let go of me!” My voice rises, almost in hysterics. No matter how hard I pull, his grip only tightens. I’m starting to get scared. Scratch that. I’m already scared. I turn to beg the bartender for help, just as a fight breaks out in the bar. Two large men are thrown into us, and to avoid the collision, Hot Guy releases my wrist to block us. That’s when I jump off my chair. A full-blown brawl erupts, and I find myself diving to the floor, crawling through the herd of legs to get to the door. Oh God, oh God, oh God. Popping up by the back door, I look around and I see him. He is pushing people left and right. No, he is tossing people to get to me, and he looks pissed.

  Oh shit.

  Hot Guy just went from hunk to hulk.

  I turn, pushing a drunken girl into the wall and run toward the back door. Don’t be locked, don’t be locked, I pray as I slam myself into the lever, and thankfully, pushing the escape door open to the back alley. I waste no time and bolt down the alley to the street. I’ve never been a good runner, but when you add adrenaline to the mix, it’s amazing how fast one will go. Sadly, it seems that is the same with my angry new friend. I exit the alley, take a quick left, and run into the open coffee shop. I run through the back, scaring customers and being yelled at by the employees. I just need another back door to throw him off, and then I’ll backtrack back by the diner. I’ll wait a little bit, and then I need to get home to Dad. He has a lot of explaining to do. That man is not supposed to be real.

  Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me and I just thought I saw the mark. I mean, I did want him to be real my whole childhood when dad told me those stories. He’s not real. That’s my final answer. Out the back door I go, I take a sharp left, slamming into an unexpected huddle of bodies. I bounce off them and slam onto my ass.

  “Damn ese` what do we have here?” a male voice asks, sounding like a big time gangbanger.

  “Fresh meat tonight yo. Dayum!”

  I shake my head and look up to see a group of guys. The fresh scent of pot lingers in the air, and I take notice that they’re smoking a blunt. Wiping off my dirtied jeans, I get to my feet. “Yeah, so sorry about
that. You guys sure do make a better door then a window.” What? That doesn’t even make sense. “Okay, so yeah, I’ll just leave you homies to do yo thang.” My voice is shaky, clearing showing my discomfort. I side step what seems to be their leader, but he blocks me.

  “Yo girl, where you think you’re going? You too fine to be here all alone at night.”

  “Yeah, so true. I was just playing a game with my crazy boyfriend. He’s kinda Scottish and huge, and totally about to jump out of that back door, so if you don’t mind, I’m gonna head out. Bizounce. Book it. Drop it like it’s….” Ugh. I fade out. I didn’t watch enough diverse movies when I was young.

  “Ain’t nobody be coming for you, girl.” He steps closer, grabbing for my waist. I try and swat his hand away but his homeboy steps behind me, blocking my escape.

  They’re starting to form a circle around me and unsettling feeling begins to set in. “Nah, it’s all good, dude. For real. Didn’t mean to bust in on your illegal party an all… I mean it’s cool. Pot and all. Go weed.” I raise my hand slowly to fist pump. Everyone is staring at me, and I feel like I am making absolutely no headway on getting out of here. Hottie Hulk is about to find me for real, and I’m not sure which scenario will be worse.

  “Come here, baby. Why don’t you offer me something and maybe I’ll let you go.”

  “Ew, like what?” Okay, so maybe this scenario would be worse.

  “Like this, bitch,” he replies and slaps me across the face. The same time I stumble back, two men grab at my feet. I’m a bit disoriented, but not enough that I don’t get a good kick to one of my attacker’s chin.

  “Fuck! That bitch just clocked me!” He steps back, dropping my legs and my lower body falls to the ground. His hands are replaced by another member, as they pin me to the dirty alley floor.

  “Get off me! What are you doing!?” I’m screaming and buckling my back. The leader crawls on top of me and begins to unbuckle my jeans.

  “Help! Get off me! HEL—” My mouth is covered by someone, and I feel my pants being unbuttoned. No no. no. How can this be happening to me? I don’t stop fighting, even though their grip on me is tight, causing instant bruising on my skin. I manage to bite the hand that’s covering my mouth, which results in another hard slap to the face.

  “Help!” I scream while my mouth is free.

  “Bitch ain’t no one gonna come save –”

  His body is instantly ripped off me. I watch his friends prepare for a fight, but they never even get the chance. Bodies are tossed. One gang member tries to retaliate when a knife is inserted into this throat. It’s then I see him. The one with the crescent moon hidden within his iris.

  And I begin to scream.

  Like a banshee.

  It takes less than thirty seconds for him to disarm all the gang members. I’m still lying on my back, trying to button up my pants. He walks up to me and covers me with his tall frame, sticking out his hand. “Get up,” he demands, lowering his hand for me to grab. I lift my hand slowly, as if I’m being compliant. That’s when I lift and kick him straight in his junk. He pulls back, bending over. I roll to my side, get my footing just right, before lifting myself off the ground and into an impressive sprint.

  “Daddy, do you believe in monsters?” I wonder, thinking about how meanie Stacey Cartwright from school tried to tell me I had them under my bed.

  “I believe that there are people out in this world that might want to do bad things, but don’t worry, I will never let them take ye from me.”

  “Who would want to take me?” I ask, worried that those monsters will sneak up and snatch my little ankles and drag me under my bed.

  “Oh, baby, I didn’t mean to scare ye. I’m sorry I was lost in thought. No one is going to take ye. I promise.”

  “What about those people in your stories? The Wen’s. The pwince with the crescent moon. Will he come for me one day? Like he does his pwincess?” Daddy’s face falls for a second. Long enough for me to worry.

  “No, Addie Bear. He won’t. Those are just stories. But in those stories he does come for his chosen. He comes for his princess because she is special. Gifted at birth. Ye see in their land, they abide by what they call The Book of Wren. They match two families and make a promise to come together and create a beautiful child. A girl. And that girl will become not only a princess, but one day Queen. She will marry the prince and together they will build a great empire. It is their destiny.”

  “Daddy, I want to become a pwincess! Can I?” I hope he says I can, but he looks so sad. “Baby, sometimes those alliances don’t form. Sometimes the princess needs to stay where she belongs, where her mommy and daddy can love and protect her.” He stops, as if he is losing himself again in a memory.

  “But why don’t they form? Are they broken?” Daddy snuggles in closer on my bed, kissing the top of my forehead.

  “No, they aren’t broken. Sometimes the mommies and daddies just don’t want to give up their daughter. Sometimes they choose another path in life. So they leave their home to make sure they are able to give their children their own options.”

  I try and think about what he says. We’ve been learning in school about keeping promises. I want to tell my daddy that if he promised someone something, then he should honor it. Like in the book, Winnie the Pooh, when Christopher Robin makes Pooh promise that he will never forget how brave and strong he is. But he looks sad, and I don’t want to make my daddy sad.

  “Don’t worry, Daddy, I will never leave you. I promise.”

  I’m running, like bat outta hell running. I’ve lost all feeling in my legs two blocks ago, and I am functioning on pure adrenaline. I know that if I stop and acknowledge how tired I am, I’ll wither like a baby, and he will catch me. And if he catches me, I am going to go on a limb and assume it’s not going to be a good thing.

  I take a swift left, around the corner of the town square, and head up Mille Street. I know the bookstore, two blocks ahead, stays open late. Most shops close around dusk here in Merryville. Being a small town just outside of Seattle, by dinner time everyone is tucked away in their cozy homes, so there is never a need for most establishments to stay open late. That and I’m sure the increasing crime is keeping people safely locked behind doors at night.

  “Two more blocks,” I chant to myself as I pass by another dark alleyway in fear. More gangbangers could be hiding behind the shadows and snatch me. The horror of someone grabbing at me causes more panic, pushing my feet harder onto the pavement. The vision of him as he, in no time flat, stopped those gangbangers from hurting me.

  “One more block.” I chant, as I jump over a pile of loose garbage lingering on the sidewalk, landing in a puddle of water hidden by the bags. “Shit,” I hiss, almost losing my balance. The iciness of the water shoots up my legs, shocking them into feeling again, and adding to the already chill of the cold November night. Even the sweat I’ve built up from my five block sprint to escape isn’t keeping the chill away.

  I make it through the last stretch when I see the glowing sign of Gilmer’s Bookstore. OPEN, it shines at me. My salvation. The place that is going to give me shelter and protection away from him. Someone will be in there to help me.

  I try not to look behind me because I know what happens. I’ve seen those movies, where those idiotic damsels stop at the worst times, just to see where their attacker is, and bam! They get snatched. I’m not stupid, though. I know he’s close. I can hear the smashing of his boots hitting the concrete, he’s that close. But I am not going to turn around to confirm it.

  I make it to the store, and my hands wrap around the doorknob. Yes. “I win, sucker,” I huff to myself, as I try turning the knob. Just at that same time, a gentleman on the other side flips off the OPEN sign and a bright CLOSED sign appears.

  No!

  “No!” I scream, as I pound on the door. “Help! I need help!” The store owner looks at me. He seems confused at my hysterics. He points at the closed sign, “I’m sorry we’re closed. Come back tomorro
w.”

  Tomorrow? Not sure I have that long. I bang again. “Please, you don’t understand! Please let me in!” I beg. I may begin to shed a tear, because let’s face it; the careless cool girl persona in me is slowly cracking. It’s been one hell of a night, and if I make it out alive, I swear to change my ways.

  “Please, sir! I’m in danger! I need to use your phone!” I yell, as he investigates my plea. Thankfully, I see him give and begin to turn the lock. Yes “Come on, come on.” I bounce up and down now, turning like that damn damsel to see where my predator is. He was close; he should have caught up to me by now. Where is he? Just then the door opens, and I stumble inside.

  “Addie Bear, I need ye to promise me ye will come straight home after work.”

  “But, Dad, why? I want to hang out with some friends after work! What’s the big deal?”

  “Addie, please, I’m trying to keep ye safe. Can’t ye just understand that?”

  “Dad, from who, the boogie man? I’m not five anymore. I’m twenty-one now. I need to stay out later than sun down. I need to be a normal adult.”

  “Just please, Addie, I worry. I’m afraid.”

  “For what, Dad? You’ve been acting so strange lately? Ever since Mom got better, you haven’t been yourself. Is there something wrong? Is Mom relapsing?” My dad approaches me, placing his warm hands on each side of my face.

  “No, baby girl, nothing is wrong with Mom. But I just need ye to come home, okay?” His eyes flare with worry. Something isn’t right, but he is trying to hide it. He offers me that look that he always gets when he gets deep into his stories. His fables. As if he almost believes them to be real.

  “Dad, I love you. Fine, I’ll come home, Okay?” Instant relief spreads across his face.

  “Thank ye, Addie. Thank ye.”

 

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