by Sam Herrera
“Where are we going?” Sarah asked, frowning at me as I turned the Winter left. We were clearly not heading home just yet.
“Did you pack those sleeping bags, pillows and the lunch like I told you?” I asked.
“Yes, but you never told me why.”
“You’ll see,” I smiled.
SARAH
I looked around with a sense of wonder. We were on the head of the Statue of Liberty. “My God, Kyle.” He grinned at me and patted the sleeping bag next to the one he was sitting on. I sat and we shared out the goodies: ham and mustard sandwiches, fruit salad, slaw and Cheetos. We ate until we were very full.
“I always enjoy that.”
“What?”
“Seeing a girl really enjoy her meal. I hate it when you guys order water and salad and shit like that.”
“Well, I often think I should be ordering things like that,” I remarked, pinching an inch of my stomach.
“None of that,” he scolded. “My girl is damn well gonna appreciate herself.”
“Yes, sir.” I opened my mouth and he threw in a Cheeto. I smiled at my handsome new boyfriend as I chewed thoughtfully. “What?” I asked, grinning, seeing his smile broaden mischievously. “Kyyyyyle. No.”
“Why not? There’s no one around for miles.”
“Is that what you said before the rescue choppers showed up?” He chuckled, remembering.
“Let’s take a chance. C’mon, pretty please.”
“You’re insane,” I grinned. But, yeah, why not? I stood and began to strip, all my nervousness suddenly gone. He lay back on his elbows, watching eagerly, his green eyes shining. I stood before him, naked, with my skin getting goosebumps from the chilly wind.
“Get under the sleeping bag, Sarah, before ya catch a cold,” he told me. I crouched and slid into the bag, glad of the warmth. I watched as he too removed his clothes, admiring, again, his taught, muscular frame. He lay next to me and our bodies joined just as our hearts did.
“Hi,” he smiled as he came up for air from a deep kiss.
“Hi,” I beamed. I threw back my head as he entered, my body welcoming him, needing him, and we began to move in a rhythm as old as time. I love you. I came long and hard, biting down on his collarbone, until I drew blood, against the cry of pleasure. Kyle, however, had no such restraint; his yell was deafening and primal. We lay side-by-side, breathing like steam trains and utterly spent.
*
“I’ve been drinking for a long time. And I’ve just recently been going to AA for it. My husband, Simon, died in a car crash. It completely broke my heart.” I smiled as one large, strong hand moved to press lightly on the skin over said organ.
“I’ve been in prison for a while: two years.”
“What did you do?”
“I assaulted my C.O. while in the air force. The guy was a total dickhole,” he smiled wryly. “And, in jail, the others saw me as a challenge; I was always getting shit. I thank God I got out when I did.”
“But, if they started it…?”
“Tell that to the wardens,” he snorted. “When I got out, my family just didn’t wanna know. No great loss; hated Dad anyway. He never visited, y’know? At all. Neither did Sandy. My sister,” he explained. I pressed my own hand to his warm, scarred chest, over his heart. I saw a kindred spirit in his eyes, someone who had suffered the same as I had. I decided to trust him a little more. I turned on my other side, watching the clouds drift by, noting how large and fluffy they were and how blue the sky between them was.
“Kyle,” I smiled over my shoulder. “Round two?”
“Oookay.”
He ran his hands and lips over my back, shoulder blades, forearms and ass. I took his hand and moved it all the way between my clenched buttocks.
“Oh, Kyle,” I moaned as his finger began moving in and out, filling me to the brim. I threw back my head and thrust my hips back and forth in time with his thrusts, begging him for more and more. I arched my back as I climaxed yet again and collapsed into his strong arms, sweaty, boneless and so content and happy. I looked over my shoulder and we kissed softly.
“I wonder what the next YouTube clip will be: Liberty Porn?” I chuckled.
MARA
I kicked back in our new digs: a nice enough place and very different from the mansion. It was a quaint English country estate. I looked down at the marble floor, with its black square pattern, red leather sofas and even its own library with all the classics. It was a historic home called Blackwell and it was just one of many surrounding Windermere, England’s largest lake, almost an inland sea. I started school tomorrow. Right now, I was happy to just chill, either in my room or outside on one of the lawnchairs, safely out of earshot of Andy’s blaring rock tunes.
“Hello, Mara.” I looked up to see a tall, dark-haired, vaguely familiar woman standing in the doorway.
“Who are you?” I asked, eyeing the sharp suit and straightened hair. Perhaps she was an employee or something, but what was she doing in my doorway?
“My name is Eve Marshall. I’m…well, I’m your father’s girlfriend.” My face hardened. Another bimbo stupid enough to believe his lies. It was true though; the moment we had landed he’d locked himself in his study with the phone glued to his ear, same as always.
“Well, I’d say good luck with him, but I don’t think there’s any point.”
She smiled wryly. “Yeah, he did tell me you two don’t get on.”
“That’s actually putting it rather mildly,” I sniffed. “Have we met before?” I asked.
“I flew you here.”
“You’re our pilot?” She nodded. I’d hardly noticed her on the flight over; I’d been too busy preparing for the UK.
“Okay, well, nice to meet you.”
She nodded again, smiling warmly. “Where is Andy’s room? I’d like to meet him as well.”Well, that makes one of us. I pointed to the door opposite, behind her, and then went back to unpacking. It then occurred to me that I hadn’t noticed her staring at me once. Maybe I’d judged her too harshly. Once I’d unpacked everything, I called Kyle on my way downstairs, just suddenly wanting to.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
“I’ve arrived safe.”
“I know.”
“How?” I blinked.
“Your aunt and I saw you off.”Of course. You saw the shimmering, idiot. I got myself an apple from the fruit bowl on the table.
“Stop it.”
“Sorry?” I frowned.
“Sorry, Mara. Shhhh.”
“What’s…going on? What are you doing?”
“You don’t wanna know.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes. I. Do.”
“Alright,” he sighed dramatically, “I’m sticking my finger up your aunt’s ass. Happy?”
“Kyle,” Sarah gasped in the background.
“Not really, no,” I retorted, rolling my eyes. I’d just been about to take a bite. I dropped the apple by my side.“Why?”
“Because she asked me to.”
“She’s into that, is she?”
“You’d be very surprised what she’s into.”
“So, you and Sarah?” I asked, quickly changing the subject.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I hope you treat her right.”
“I will,” he said, sounding a little defensive.
“She’s my best friend as well as my aunt,” I insisted.
“Alright. I. Will.”
*
So this is a British school? With its gray stone walls, covered with creeping ivy and without any security, Clifton looked more like a converted church. With a sigh, I walked in, eyeing the others who were already giving me the look. It was like the first day of my old school all over again. I could practicall
y hear the chants of: “Snowball, Snowball, Snowball.” I headed for lunch with a sigh of relief. The morning had been hell, absolute hell. I’d become the joke of the class, and later the school, just because I’d forgotten they didn’t pledge allegiance here. I’d been getting mock salutes and the Star Spangled Banner chants from then on. I would have been happier with “Snowball”.
“I think I’m gonna like England,” Andy grinned, walking beside me. How lovely for you.
*
Sighing, I took a seat at a lunch table with only two people at it.
“I’m guessing you’re new here?” the guy asked, apart from a few blinks taking my strangeness in his stride.
“Um, hm. I’m Mara Hale,” I added, smiling warmly and reaching out for a shake. I noticed he had thick, black, curly hair, bright blue eyes and, for a guy, very long lashes around them.
“You am Mara, are ya?” the girl, a redhead with slate-gray eyes, sniggered as we shook hands, also giving me the look.
“Huh?” I asked, my smile fading.
“Just ignore my sister. I do. I’m Caleb Grey.” Brother and sister, huh? Odd, they looked nothing alike. But, then, neither did Andy and I.
“The guy you came in with…is he like a friend of yours?” the sister asked.
“Andy? He’s my brother.”
“He’s hot,” she grinned.
“If you say so,” I sniffed. Andy had been inexplicably known, with his pouty lips, girly hairstyle and way-too-skinny build, to have that effect on women.
“You’re from America, right?”
“Yep,” I smiled, nodding.
“It’s the cowgirl shoes. Dead giveaway.”
I frowned and looked down at my thigh-length boots, wondering what was wrong with them and what was wrong with her, the freakin’ snob. Caleb frowned then turned in his seat to me, facing away from her.
“Where are you from, in America?” he asked as we ate. The sister, with a sour glance at the back of his head, just tuned us out, texting and daydreaming, while Caleb and I discussed the huge differences between the States and Britain. I’d been very surprised by how little in the way of student protection there was around here. At the entrance, there hadn’t been a metal detector, wand or security guard in sight. Caleb wanted to know what it was like with a loaded gun on every street corner. I wanted to know how cops here kept order without them. I passed a very pleasant hour with a cute guy who was easy to talk too. I farted halfway through but either he was too polite to comment or he just didn’t hear or smell it. Sadly Caleb, as I rediscovered on my way to the next class, was the one decent exception in a great snobfest. Every girl continued to follow me with haughty eyes and every guy’s grouping sniggered and muttered among themselves. I watched as Andy, already having found his own little club, was laughing along with them. So much for your concern, asshole.
“Hey.” I turned, sighing, fully expecting more of the ‘Star Spangled Banner’ or some such crap. “You forgot this,” Caleb smiled, handing me my school bag.
“Aw, thanks,” I smiled back, relieved. “Your sister’s a charmer, y’know?” He smiled ruefully, nodding.
“You think that’s bad? I have to live with her.”
“Sorry. Well, thanks.” I watched what I maybe shouldn’t have as he walked away, feeling… something. Something that brought a smile to my face and a warm glow to my cheeks.
*
I looked up, in confusion, at the swarm that had descended on the house: platoons of press, cops, photographers and God only knew what else. I looked across at Andy, sitting next to me, and he shrugged, looking just as confused as I felt. As soon as we were out of the limo, they were onto us.
“Hey, Ms Hale, look over here.”
“Ms Hale, how you feel about your friend being a suspect?”
“Is Kyle Thayer NYS?”
What?! Andy and I stared at each other, as the racket turned to background noise in my head after that. Of course we knew about the case. Everyone did; it had been on the news for ages. So far four families had been attacked in their homes. This freak, the New York Shooter, had killed about seventeen people so far, six of them children. He’d, according to the press, gunned down the parents from his van, through their living room windows, then picked the locks and decapitated the children in their sleep, taking their heads as trophies. Kyle?! No. Way. I raced in and stabbed the button on the TV, turning it on to the news. I was glued to the screen, watching Kyle being led down the steps of his house…in cuffs, surrounded by the cops with cameras being shoved in his face.
“What’s going on?” I whispered.
“Let him go!” Aunt Sarah yelled, appearing in the doorway. The cops, two large, muscular jock-types in uniform, barred her way as she tried to reach him.
*
The three of us sat in the main room: me, Andy and Eve. I was stunned, not to mention furious. Andy sat next to me with a long face.
“This is bullshit! This. Is. Bull. Shit! I mean why the hell would Kyle kill those people? He didn’t know ‘em.”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, shaking his head. I tilted my head back against the couch. I knew Kyle better than this. I had seen him dive into the fire in Tokyo. I had heard of everything he had done since and I’d played games with him as he told me his stories, taught me how to fly the Winter and kicked my ass in self-defense training. He was the father I’d always wanted and should have had. And now he was sitting in a jail cell. I did. Not believe it. I would not. I knew in my heart he was no killer. Or did I? I sighed. This was fucking hard. Eve came in and flopped beside me on the couch.
“I’m sorry about your friend, but if he is guilty, if he did kill those women—”
“Shut up,” I snapped, my finger in her face. I sighed, feeling bitter, and tired, and at least ten years older. Kyle had been officially named a suspect for seventeen counts of murder. How the hell could I help him now?
“Why don’t you stare at me?”
“What?” she asked. I didn’t know why I was asking this. Maybe I just needed a distraction. “Everyone does: people at school, people in town.”
“Because you’re an albino?” she smirked. “That’s nothing. My brother was one.”
“Oh, really?” I blinked.
“Yeah,” she grinned, shaking her head.
“Yyyyes?”
“He was a total nut. He used to collect all these animals: snakes, beetles, bugs of all sorts. He was a regular little Gerald Durrell and it drove Mom insane.”
“Was?” Her smile vanished and she looked away. “I’m sorry.”
“It was a car accident. He was just crossing the road and…”
“Sorry,” I repeated. She nodded and I wondered again if she was so bad. She had obviously loved her brother. “What was your father like?” I asked.
“He was good, not perfect obviously, but a great father. We played games and everything: him, Dave, Buttercup and me—”
“Buttercup?”
“My dog. She was a Golden Retriever.”
“Nice. How old?”
“About four months, I guess.” We both grinned at each other as I recalled my own dog, the late Tulip. Andy had hated her because she’d shed all over his trainers. She’d shed all over mine as well, but seeing her almost break the sound barrier chasing after the sticks I’d flung her, I hadn’t cared. I grinned even wider at the memory.
“Wanna play a game? I’m pretty good at Scrabble,” I said.
“Sure, why not?”
“What’s that?” I asked, seeing a glint of gold at her neck. It was a small crucifix.
“You believe that?” I asked.
“Uh, huh,” she nodded. “Twenty years. Every Sunday.”
“Oh…Okay.”
*
I walked up to my room after the game, having got my ass kicked. She’d been good, coming
up with words I had never heard of. I called Aunt Sarah on my mobile.
“Is it true?” I asked, coming right to the point.
“They say he’s a suspect,” she replied in a small, defeated voice.
“But have they charged him?”
“Not yet, but they’re trying.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Nor do I.”
We made some smalltalk after that, avoiding the subject. Then I hung up. I stretched gratefully out in the tub, rolling my tense neck and shoulders, my mind whirling. Kyle? A serial killer? I shook my head and pinched the bridge of my nose, exhaling. I closed my eyes and let the warm water do its thing. Suddenly, behind my closed lids a vision of bright blue eyes under a dark curly fringe, flanking a perfectly straight, aquiline nose placed above a set of full, curving lips came to me. Caleb Grey. I opened my eyes and blinked them a few times, finding my hand had strayed between my legs as though it had a life of its own, wondering what the hell was going on. He seemed to be all I could think of despite the nightmare my friend was going through. And with that brief flash my entire body had come to life, tingling and needy. I frowned, shaking my head. What is this? I liked it, whatever it was. Why not? I inserted a finger past the downy white hair to the flesh beneath and allowed myself, going in to the knuckle, letting the pace build. I threw my head back and moved the finger back and forth, closing my eyes and gritting my teeth, writhing and gasping, imagining him over me and inside me. I pictured his perfect teeth bared in a growl of desire and his eyes shooting arctic-blue flames. My legs writhed and my heels squeaked on the ceramic. I arched my back as I climaxed, letting it out with a long, drawn-out cry.
“Mara, Mara, are you alright?” Eve yelled, kicking the door in.
“Jesus!” I hissed, covering myself.
“Oh, sorry,” she said, averting her eyes. You know it’s perfectly natural. Nothing you have down there can scare me—”
“Get out! Shit,” I whispered, red in the face, ducking under the water as the door slammed. I was hot, and flustered, and disturbed. Was this…? Well, I knew what it was; I’d heard about it. But. Damn! I hadn’t expected it to rip through me like that. I wanted him like I had never wanted anything before. I snorted as I got out, drained the water and dried myself. Dream on, Mara.