The Aztec Saga - Hunted

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The Aztec Saga - Hunted Page 22

by J.S. Davidson


  ****

  Something woke me. It might have been Leroy calling out, or it might have been my imagination. Andy lay next to me, sleeping. He had pulled his shirt off, and it lay across the bed. One of his arms was draped around me, and as I began to move, he tightened his grip. The bedroom door opened. I looked past Andy’s resting body to see that it was Alice, holding a stack of clothes.

  “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. Only, I noticed you didn’t have any clothes with you, Alexandra. Here are some spares that should fit,” she said as she sat them on the end of the bed.

  Andy snored loudly, waking himself. He yawned as he wiggled around to his back.

  “Mum? Jesus Christ!” he yelled loudly. “You enjoy watching people while they sleep? Scared me half to death,” he griped as he rubbed his eyes.

  “I’m sorry, dear. I was only bringing in some clean clothes for Alexandra ... I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” she beamed, her eyes darting from him to me. “I’ll leave you two alone.” She almost skipped from the room.

  “What is she talking about?” he asked as he rubbed his eyes.

  “I think it has something to do with the fact you’re half naked, and you had thrown yourself over me,” I said as I stretched. “That was the best sleep I’ve had since we’ve left Warrangatta. I was too tired to dream.”

  “Yeah, well I had the weirdest dream! We were running through mountains and sailing across oceans; the whole thing was trippy. Oh, God!” he complained as he hung his arm over his eyes.

  “What is it?”

  “She thinks we’re together!” he groaned. “She’s going to be all ‘cute’ the entire time we’re here now. She’ll do everything but bring us breakfast in bed.”

  “I wouldn’t complain about breakfast. Anything but those gross protein bars you fed me.”

  I had no sooner finished speaking when a knock came from the bedroom door. Alice pushed the door open and walked in, holding a large tray. On it were two glasses of orange juice and four pieces of toast.

  “I know it’s not breakfast time; I just thought you two might be hungry,” she cooed, as she unfolded the legs under the tray and sat it across him.

  I put my hand over my mouth as I tried not to laugh. Andy’s face had turned bright red.

  “Now, if there’s anything else you two need, all you need to do is ask,” she said sweetly.

  I was too hungry to wait for her to leave the room. I leant across and took a piece of toast; it was only toast, but it was delicious.

  “This is beautiful. Thank you, Alice,” I said as I took a mouthful of orange juice.

  “Anything at all,” she continued. “If you need us to leave the house, we will—grandchildren would be wonderful.” She clapped her hands together in front of her chest.

  I couldn’t help but half choke on my juice.

  “Mum!” Andy complained.

  “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you two alone,” she beamed as she swanned from the room.

  “I’m sorry, Alex. She wouldn’t have said anything like that if she knew what you’ve been through.”

  I didn’t say anything. I just put my glass on the table and stared at it.

  “Ally? Hey, are you okay?” he asked.

  “Andy. He raped me.” Suddenly, the gravity of what had happened hit me.

  “Yes,” he said with a flat voice. He lifted the table and put it on the floor by the side of the bed and turned back to face me.

  “He raped me.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. They felt foreign coming from me. Water began to burn behind my eyes.

  “I know,” he whispered.

  “I don’t how I should be feeling.” I wrapped my arms around my stomach and hunched over; it was too much. “I’m pissed off mainly—at him ... at myself!”

  He reached across and rubbed my back. “Keep going. You were so quiet in the car; I just figured you didn’t want to talk about it, or anything else for that matter.”

  “I feel so humiliated.” I could feel my throat tighten as the tide of unexpressed emotions welled within me, searching for release.

  “Oh, Alex. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around me and held me close.

  I wasn’t scared or uncomfortable in his arms—his embrace gave me strength and reassurance. I trusted Andy more than anybody in the world. “You have nothing to be humiliated about! Talk if you need to. I’m listening.”

  We lay there for a long time; Andy did listen without interruption. I spoke about everything—about how I was feeling at that moment and everything leading up to that moment.

  “Are you feeling any better now?” he asked.

  “I don’t know if ‘better’ is the right word. I feel stronger. I can’t really explain it. Thanks for listening.”

  “Ally, I’ll be honest with you. When I opened my front door and saw you standing there like that …” He paused for a moment as though the memory pained him. “Ally, if I see him again, I am going to kill him. I don’t know how, but he has to die.” He spoke the words with such conviction there was no room for doubt. But how Andy could take on a man like Derrek, I didn’t know.

  I just nodded. I couldn’t say anything because I felt conflicted at the thought of Derrek being killed. I was sickened by what he had done to me; but, at the same time, I could not take any joy in the thought of him being dead.

  “You’re looking better. And the bruising has faded a fair bit.” He gestured to my throat.

  “Good. I’ll take your word for it. I don’t want to look at it. Anyway, your Mum said something about a shower?”

  “I’ll grab you a towel.” He swung his legs over the bed and slowly stood to his feet. His body had broadened again.

  “You’ve gotten bigger again.” As I looked at him, I knew I should have been scared or, at the very least, intimidated by a half-naked man. I’ve heard that rape victims are often terrified of being in the same room as another man. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t. Just thinking of The Aztec made my stomach knot, but that was where my fear ended; with him—The Aztec.

  He looked down at himself. “Yeah I know. I don’t know why. But I’m not complaining.”

  I lifted my arm to push my hair behind my ear.

  “What is that?” Andy exclaimed.

  “What is what?”

  “Under your sleeve.” He reached across and pulled back my sleeve.

  “Oh my God!” I cried as I tried to scratch off a mark that looked like a tattoo. “It won’t come off!”

  He sat on the bed next to me, grabbed my arm and inspected it carefully.

  “Stop scratching at it!” He pulled my hand away from the tattoo.

  We sat in silence looking at the image that had appeared on my arm, before a sudden realisation hit me—I had seen this before.

  I looked up to Andy and said in a flat voice, “This mark is one of the symbols he has on the left side of his chest.”

  “It’s okay, Alex. Don’t be scared ...” Andy began, but I cut him short. It felt like a wave washed over me, taking all sense of fear from me.

  “I’m not scared, Andy.”

  “What?”

  “Right now, as we sit here, I am not scared. I was shocked to see the tattoo, mark, or whatever it is, but I’m not scared. Why aren’t I scared? I should be terrified.” Every word was true. It was like a switch had been flicked inside me. I felt more alert and alive than I had in a long time. “What’s happening?”

  He stared at me for a moment. “I don’t know. What I do know is we can’t stay here any longer. But if we just run out the door Mum and Dad will have a meltdown; they’ll know something’s up. So we’ll have a shower, have something more to eat and then we’ll leave—nice and casual. But Alex, casual is just the guise; we need to hurry!”

 

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