by Rayns, Lisa
“She’s not your baby.”
The voice that startled everyone and stopped the kids in their tracks came from directly behind me. I turned and watched with amazement as Mr. Interested situated himself between the boys and me.
“What the hell?” one of the boys called.
“Where’d he come from?” another asked.
“It doesn’t matter. We’re taking that necklace!” the leader stated, pulling out a switchblade and flipping it cockily. “Hey, man! We saw her first, but…there’s probably more than enough to go around if you want in on this action.”
I felt nauseous at the sight of the knife. I wanted to scream to the man and call him away from the threat but not knowing his name deterred me. Nothing came out anyway.
“You are most certainly not taking the necklace,” Mr. Interested insisted kindly but confidently.
“I mean it, man. Back off or I’m going to slice you up.” He held up the knife again and spun it.
“What was that?” one of the boys asked, backing away.
“He’s a demon!” another shouted.
Demon? I glanced at Mr. Interested, seeing only the back of his strong body. His pose was comfortable, relaxed, and he still had his hands in his pockets. He looked more like an angel standing protectively in front of me.
The leader’s smile turned nervous and shaky, but at the same time, more dangerous. “I’ll do it, man! Back off. We’re taking it!”
Mr. Interested laughed easily. “I don’t think so. The lady isn’t ready to relinquish the diamonds. Not now, not ever. They belong to her.”
“Who are you, her bodyguard?”
“Hmm. Let’s find out,” he said, walking into the group of teenagers at a relaxed pace. The kids backed away slowly until the shadows engulfed them all.
I took a deep breath and held it. I couldn’t run. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even think about what would happen. I heard some scuffling and some talking but it was so low that I couldn’t make it out. When the leader came out of the shadows, walking toward me, I balled my hands into fists and strained for a fighter’s pose. I was ready to defend myself when the boy dropped his head.
“I’m sorry for scaring you, lady. It won’t happen again. My friends are really sorry too,” he said, gesturing toward the other kids who walked out of the tunnel to meet him.
“Yeah, sorry,” they called one by one as they staggered past me.
My fists fell, and I stared into the shadows still unsure of what to call him. “Mister…?”
He finally emerged, appearing unruffled as he made his way to my side.
“Are you all right? Are you hurt? What did you do? How did you get them to do that?” I talked faster than my thoughts could keep up.
He shook his head calmly, one side of his mouth curving up. “So many questions,” he said as he escorted me into the underpass.
“Questions you never answer,” I reminded him, enjoying the safe feeling of his hand on my lower back. “I really hate not knowing your name.”
He chuckled in response and the sound bounced off the cement walls around us to echo through the darkness. He paused when we were in the center of the passageway. “I lied to you, Elizabeth,” he said, his dark tone making him sound dangerous but I couldn’t see his face.
I swallowed hard, wanting to leave the spooky place. “About what?”
“I hate your plan,” he said bluntly.
“Why?”
“You want to spend the next two years wasting away in school and working constantly, but you don’t need to.”
With the darkness closing in on me, I felt around for his hand. He wore gloves but I interlocked my fingers with a death grip. “I don’t mind working for what I want.”
“Money can be provided. You could travel the world, live somewhere else. Anything you want can be yours.”
Sucking in my breath, I took a step forward and tried to pull him with me. “Can we leave? I want to get dry.”
He remained unmoving, like a ton of bricks. “Would you still choose your plan?”
“Yes,” I said, feeling more than a little annoyed. “I don’t expect anything from anyone, and I still don’t know you.”
He chuckled again, his tone lightening. “If you don’t know me, why are you holding onto me so tightly? If I am a stranger, it seems you should be frightened to be alone with me in a dark place.”
“I am scared,” I admitted, giving up on the useless attempt to move him. “But not of you.”
“Why not?”
I froze when I felt him move closer to me. My heart pounded a loud beat that resounded through my ears. My head started whirling as his musky scent rose into my nose, and I inhaled him fully, praying he would kiss me. Fear was forgotten when I heard the fabric of his clothes stretch toward me. His gloved finger traced my neckline as though he could see me in the dark.
“Think about it, Elizabeth,” he said before he moved forward and persuaded me to follow.
I scooped up the remnants of my brain and tried to piece together what I was supposed to think about. Did he mean the wasting away in school, the working constantly, the money he offered, or why I wasn’t afraid of him? I couldn’t believe that he seriously wanted me to give up my plan for him. Who did he think he was? When we emerged from the underpass, my eyes traced his exquisite face and his powerful body.
Oh yeah. He was the man I’d wanted to make an exception for so what was the problem? Feeling safer outside of the underpass, I released his hand and sat down on the curb, forgetting all about wanting to get dry. “For your information, an education lasts a lifetime, and what the hell would I do if I didn’t work?”
The streetlight to the right of him dimmed and blinked as if it were on its last few hours of life. He stood above me, looking like a well-built giant when he started to pace. “That’s it then? You’re afraid of what will happen if you have time on your hands. Do you hear what you’re saying, Elizabeth? You’re afraid of enjoying yourself. You’re afraid of living.”
“Where did you get that?” I asked defensively. “I don’t like hanging out with kids my own age. They bore me so what I am supposed to do?”
He snapped a glance my direction. “Do whatever makes you happy.”
“I thought I was until you started this argument.”
“No. You have to stop hiding behind this schedule you’ve created to keep yourself from your life.”
My anger swelled to boiling temperatures. Scrambling to my feet, I planted my hands on my hips. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
He stopped pacing to look at me seriously. “You could have died tonight.”
I tossed a glance at the tunnel before I removed the necklace and dropped it into his hand. “If it weren’t for the necklace, I would’ve been fine.”
He caught it easily and slipped it into his pocket without saying anything.
Guilt sat in the pit of my stomach and then clawed its way up until my temper broke like a fever. “Thank you for whatever you did back there. I didn’t mean to act ungrateful,” I said softly.
“That’s why I’m here,” he returned, matching my tone.
“It is?” I asked. “You’re here to save me? Are you my guardian angel?”
He shook his head but wouldn’t make eye contact with me.
“Because if you wouldn’t have given me the necklace, I wouldn’t have needed saving.” I spoke lightly, teasing him to try to drag him out of his dark mood. For some reason, I needed to see him smile at that moment more than anything. I yearned for his happiness.
“That’s not fair,” he argued with the most exquisite amused expression. “What about the helicopter at the party? You didn’t have the necklace then.”
I laughed at the memory. “You’re right and just think what that thing could have done to my hair.”
“I should stay with you tonight,” he said seriously. “You’ve had quite a shock.”
I almost swallowed my tongue. “What?”
�
�I should stay with you,” he repeated.
“Ummm…no,” I said anxiously. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’d get caught and then…” I sighed. “Honestly, my mom would probably cheer me on.”
“What’s stopping you then?” He reached out to grab a strand of my wet hair and placed it gently behind my shoulder.
Nervous as I felt, I waited until he withdrew his hand to speak. I felt unable to refuse him while he touched a part of me. When his hand returned to his side, I took a deep breath. “Well, let’s throw the fact that I don’t even know your name right on top of my list.”
“Or maybe you’re afraid of living as I suggested.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I met the challenge in his eyes. “All right. Tell me your name, and you can stay with me.”
“Draven,” he said easily. “My name is Draven.”
Stunned, my mouth fell open as I stuttered, “You…you’re right. It…it wasn’t on the list.”
“As I said.”
The consequences of my agreement sunk in much too fast, and I found myself panicking. I wasn’t ready to take him home, whether I knew his name or not. “So,” I started, trying to put off the inevitable. “You hate my plan, you’re rich, you’re good with children. I guess I know some things about you now. What else should I know before someday gets here?”
He faced me, looking thoughtful. “You know much more than that.”
“I do? What do I know?”
He smirked and then cocked his head to the right, a move I found myself falling in love with. “I’m interested, and as impatient as I might be, I am waiting for you.”
It took a few minutes for his response to sink in. Was he….? That couldn’t be right. “You’re…waiting for me to graduate from college?”
“Yes,” he said with a definitive nod.
I laughed automatically. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m quite serious,” he confirmed, his eyes intense, sharp.
In a daze, I stared back at him, and my question fell out with an unmasked expression of wonder. “What happens when you’re done waiting?”
At the question, a grave look framed his eyes, making me swoon and want to fan myself with my hands. “Do you believe in destiny, Elizabeth?”
“I don’t know. I believe everything happens for a reason, although you may be an exception to that rule.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you don’t make sense. I’ve never seen you before, and you suddenly show up and act interested in me––”
“I’m not acting,” he interrupted. “I am interested.”
“Okay, but I can’t figure out why. You apparently have everything.”
He frowned sadly. “Looks can be deceiving.”
His changing moods made my head spin until I wanted to scream. “What exactly do you want from me, Draven?” I asked directly.
“I want you to choose differently,” he demanded, frustration oozing off his face.
“How can you ask me to give up my dreams?”
His hard expression faded into one of pain. “Will you be all right alone tonight?”
I managed to move my head in a small circle.
“Then I must go. Good night, Elizabeth.” He tipped his head before he turned and walked away.
The pain that resided on his face moments ago pulsed through me and made me feel horrible. I’d hurt him, and the ache that ricocheted back made me want to disappear. Instead, I ran home and collapsed on my bed in tears. My heart felt broken as if that one look on his face had shattered it.
Once a shower warmed me up enough to stop my shivers, I dressed in my nightclothes and sat down on the bed, hugging my legs. My mind kept replaying the evening over and over again. The diner, the boys, the knife, the rescue, the almost kiss, the conversation after, and that last look on his face. Nothing else we’d done mattered. I’d hurt him. It seemed cut and dry and I felt devastated.
I stayed in bed for the next three days, sick with a cold and the hurt that impaled me. More questions surfaced. Where had Draven come from? What did he do or say to those kids to make them react the way they did? “That’s why I’m here,” had been his only answer but that wasn’t enough. The strain of trying to figure out the riddle left my head aching.
I wish I had some chicken soup.
For a moment, I thought about getting out of bed to make some but then I realized it wouldn’t help. My mind would still be a jumble of guilt and confusion because I’d hurt him. I couldn’t fathom why that affected me so badly but it did. I felt a connection with him deep in my gut but I couldn’t understand why he would take such a strong and sudden interest in me.
A half an hour later, my mom knocked and came into my room carrying a large bowl of soup with some crackers. “I brought up the chicken soup you ordered.”
I sat up so fast, my head throbbed. “What are you talking about? I didn’t order anything.”
“Well, it was delivered for you from Delish. They said it was already paid for.”
Once the shock wore off, I ate the soup, all the while telling myself that I wasn’t crazy. It was homemade, hot, exactly what I’d wanted when I’d thought of it. My mind sharpened, and a little bit of the self-loathing I’d been harboring dissolved with the steam rolling out of the bowl.
I wish…
I stopped the delusion cold, deciding that there was no genie granting my silent wishes. That sort of thing just wasn’t possible. It was a coincidence, a very, very strange coincidence. But if that were true, then what would be the harm? I had to test the theory.
I wish Draven would forgive me and ask me out on a date.
Yanking the covers over my head, I waited…and waited. Nothing happened. The phone didn’t ring. My mom didn’t show. Satisfied with the test results, I threw the covers off and sighed. The three days of bed rest had played tricks on my mind. I had to get up and move around.
A hot shower served to loosen my stiff muscles, and I did some stretching exercises to get the badly needed oxygen flowing back into my head. I felt strong and clear-headed when I finally stepped out of the bathroom. My cold was gone. I felt confident. I felt like myself.
Then, I gasped.
My mind strayed into a foggy place as I walked over and picked up the card that lay on my bed. It wasn’t a normal card. The fancy, light brown parchment folded in half bore text printed in an elaborate calligraphy font.
Elizabeth,
It is with deepest honor that I am requesting your presence this Friday night. I will find you at sunset, wherever you may be. There is nothing to forgive but please accept my apologies for upsetting you the last. I remain – Interested.
Draven
“Mom!” I called. When she didn’t come fast enough, I ran to my door and met her in the hallway. “Were you just in my room?”
“No, I was making supper. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lied, unable to swallow due to the large egg-sized ball of doubt that had lodged itself in my throat.
Her suspicious expression lasted a moment before she peeked downstairs. “Dinner’s almost ready. I’ll be back.”
When she rushed to the kitchen like something was burning, I returned to my room, changed into my nightclothes, and climbed into bed, hoping I wouldn’t be committed. It couldn’t be real. I kept glancing at the card on my nightstand expecting it to disappear when I blinked. It didn’t.
With all hope of my sanity given up on, I didn’t see the need to stop there.
I wish I could talk to him.
I jumped when my cell phone rang but hastily snatched it from my nightstand and yanked the charging cord out of it. “Hello?” I breathed nervously.
“You’ve caught onto me,” Draven’s eloquent voice came with a chuckle.
My hands started to shake, and I almost dropped the phone. “H…How are you doing this?”
“I told you. It’s a gift of mine.”
I pictured him holding out a glass to me as he had at the party, calming only slightly. “But it’s not possible. I feel like I’m losing my mind. You’re literally making me crazy.”
Another chuckle soothed over some more of my tension.
“Look, you don’t have to go out with me. I was just messing around, toying with a theory.”
“I would love to go out with you,” he said, sounding sincere.
“Really?”
“Of course I would. I told you I was waiting for you.”
I shook my head, my confusion mounting. “But after what I said––”
“You said nothing wrong, Elizabeth,” he said, his voice distressed. “Someday you will understand.”
I didn’t get angry. Another promise of someday and a real date were enough to soothe my restless soul for one night.
“Sleep now.”
“I can’t…”
“Oh, Elizabeth?”
“Yeah?”
“Have you ever thought about marriage?”
I dropped the phone, my eyes bulging as I watched it fall to the floor where it closed by itself. Lying back on my bed, I spread my arms out and looked up at the ceiling, listening to my heartbeat.
Who was he? Is that why he wanted me to give up my plan? Or was he trying to drive me crazy? Maybe he wanted me to give up on my plan just so I could spend the rest of my life in an institution.
Sighing, I took a breath.
After a light knock, my mother stuck her head in the door. “Do you want some dinner?”
“No.” I sat up when she started to close the door. “Mom, do we have a history of mental illness in our family?”
“I don’t think so,” she said with a laugh. “That’s an odd question.”
I held up the card from my nightstand. “And you do see this card, right?”
“Yes, of course I do. What’s wrong, Elizabeth?”
She came all the way into the room and sat down on my bed, crossing her arms over her legs. She’d taken the last three days off of work to take care of me so she looked relaxed in the jeans and a loose fitting green top that matched her eyes and mine.
I knew I’d gone too far when she crossed her arms. That always meant she planned to stay, but I couldn’t explain what just happened to her without serious repercussions. She’d either verify that I lost my mind or she’d insist that I had put it there myself and forgotten about it. And if by chance she did believe that someone had been in the house without her knowledge, she’d call the police and have fifty new locks installed.