Dragon Flame

by R. L. Wilson

  “You can’t be a friend of Brayden.”

  “No, I didn’t come to see Brayden either.” She has an accent. I’m not certain where she’s from, maybe England.

  “I’m here because I was invited by Ms. Daley.”

  Oh, that’s it. She’s the tutor that Brayden needs for calculus. Mother is insistent that Brayden will finish school.

  “Where is my mother?”

  “She told me to stay here until she returns.” She moves her long hair from her face. Her fingers are free from a wedding ring so she isn’t married. Not that it matters. I just don’t want to be in the company of any more married women. That’s what got me in scalding water before.

  “Would you like something to drink while you wait for Mother?”

  “No thank you,” she says. I realize she has to have Botox. No one’s face is that damn still, unless she has paralysis of the face. She’s emotionless; so different from Willow. She’s like a dark cloud on a sunny day.

  The click of the front door brings a sense of relief. Someone else is here to entertain this chick. A sigh escapes my lips. I hear Mother talking on her phone.

  I grab my water from the refrigerator.

  Mother smiles at me. “Harriet, I’m going to call you back.”

  “Hello, Mother,” I say, my eyes bulging.

  “Well, I see the two of you have gotten acquainted.”

  “Yes, and you’re back now so I will leave you two alone.”

  I stand from my chair.

  “Son, stay, get to know her better?”

  “No, why do I need to? She’s here to tutor Brayden, not me.”

  “I’m not anyone’s tutor,” she barks.

  “I’m sorry.” I take a gulp of water. Her face turns a shade of pink, but still has no expression. She’s a little upset. I assumed she was the tutor. We already have a gardener, so who the hell is she?

  “No, silly, this is Ashleigh,” Mother grunts.

  I shrug. Who the hell is Ashleigh? “Okay.” I nod. “Hi, Ashleigh.” I continue walking toward the hall. Wait. Ashleigh. Freezing, I pivot around with a mouth full of water. I take a hard gulp. “The Ashleigh.”

  “Yes, your fiancée,” Mother says

  What the fuck. I forgot all about her. I’m not marrying her. She doesn’t even have a personality. I flop back down in the chair. Mother takes a seat beside me. Mother’s sizzling glare warms my face. Stay calm. I must be polite and go along with this charade. Fuck.

  “We should get to know each other better,” I state while clenching my teeth.

  “Perhaps,” Ashleigh says.

  “How old are you?” I question.

  “Twenty-four on my next birthday,” she says, looking down at the table.

  I’m uncertain if this is cultural, but I like my women with a little sass. I can’t wake up to her every day. She’s a blank canvas that needs painting.

  My step dad enters the back door. I want to tell him that we need to find someone else. At least someone who talks more. He was supposed to assist Eugene in the selection process.

  “Good to see you two getting along,” my stepfather Adam says gleefully.

  I dart my gaze around the room and give a fake smile. How will I explain this to Willow? I’m engaged. I can’t break her heart. She would never forgive me.

  “Eugene called earlier. He has moved the wedding up,” Mother chimes in.

  What? Wait, this is going too fast. I squeeze the plastic water bottle in my hand. I’m about to pop. “Up to when? 2023?”

  Mother giggles. “You’re so silly. No, you’ll be getting married on Saturday.”

  “Mother, that’s not possible. Today is Sunday. How can you plan a wedding in six days?” I growl.

  “With money, anything is possible. Everything is already ordered.”

  “We don’t have rings.” I have to make some excuse. Mother is ecstatic for this wedding while I’m suffocating. My inner beast sizzles at the surface. I’m hot; I need an exit.

  “Yes, you do. Here’s the engagement ring.” She pulls two black velvet boxes from her purse and slaps them on the table, making a thump. Willow’s face comes to mind. “Put it on Ashleigh’s finger,” Mother suggests.

  Ashleigh glares at my face then extends her left hand, waiting for me to place the ring on her finger. Oh, now she can move.

  How does a dragon escape this disaster?

  Chapter Eleven

  Willow

  I never thought I’d find a love like this. I can’t get Colton or the passionate sex of my mind. The size of his penis has invaded my thoughts like a squatter.

  I lower the music on the small radio in my room when a knock splits the air.

  Immediately, I go on alert. I ease my way to the door, quiet as smoke. Paranoid, I slide the chain on the door. I crack the door open with the chain on, opening the door only a few inches. This cheap-ass motel doesn’t have peepholes in the door. The aromatic scent of perfume enters the room before I can see anyone.

  I narrow my gaze out the door at an older lady. “Housekeeping,” she says. She’s wearing a blue and white maid outfit, with a duster in her hand. Her other hand is on a large cart. “Would you like me to clean your room?” she questions.

  My heart rate lowers a notch. I exhale. “No, thank you,” I respond. Damn, I thought that was trouble. Honestly, I don’t have the energy to be on constant alert. My ex still has control over me…sort of. That shit stops today.

  Clicking the lock on the door, I fish my phone from my pocket. I order an Uber. I need clothes and food. Wishing I could drive, I imagine myself in a Benz. I’ll ask Colton to teach me. He wouldn’t mind.

  I stuff several one-dollar bills in my bra. Some cheap bastards at Omen flooded the stage with one-dollar bills. But hell, they spend just like a hundred-dollar bill.

  Taking the quick ride to Walmart felt liberating. I’m able to escape these four walls, to do something for myself instead of going to Omen. They have groceries, clothes, and cooking utensils. All under one roof.

  I exit the car. A few sprinkles of rain hit my hand. Pulling my hood over my head, I scan my surroundings, making sure I’m not being watched or followed. It’s a common concern of mine. I’m sure I still act like a battered woman, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

  I strut in the Walmart and grab a cart, headed straight toward the deli section. It’s hard to cook meat in a hotel room, but I’m craving a juicy steak. My stomach rumbles with hunger, thinking of meat.

  An older man approaches the counter with an oversized abdomen.

  “How can I help you?” he says. His warm stare makes me uncomfortable. He smiles as if he’s seen a celebrity. “It’s you,” he mutters

  Shit. I shake with fear. Does he recognize me as Willow? I nervously dart my gaze and pull my hood down more on my face.

  “You who? I don’t know you.”

  “No, I’m sure it’s you.”

  “I just want three pounds of ribeye steak.”

  “Sure,” he says, but his gaze sticks to my face.

  Tension grabs a hold of me, causing my head to hurt. The Tylenol I took earlier has worn off. I twist around. Fuck the steak. I better get out of here.

  “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Hold on, let me get your steak.”

  “What secret? I don’t have any damn secret.” I freeze out of curiosity. I’m sure he has me confused with someone else. But my feet won’t let me walk away. I turn back to the counter.

  He hands me a pen and a pad. “Can I get your autograph?”

  Okay, I’m sure he has me confused with someone else. Or he is mentally delayed. One of the two. “Sir, you have the wrong person. I’m not a celebrity.”

  “I know you’re Toni the Stallion.” A faint shade of pink rushes across his oversized face. “I love your show. I catch it every weekend.”

  Damn, he recognizes me as a stripper. “Oh, sure.” I grab the pen. It won’t hurt to sign an autograph. This is the first for me. No one ever gave a
damn about me. I sign the pad and grab my ribeye steak. I scurry away from the counter. The dude seems a little weird. His stare is perverted, in a way. Almost like he’s fantasizing about me, here in my face.

  But there’s something magical about me stepping on that stage. Toni is assertive, confident, and beautiful. All the things that Willow is not. The euphoric feeling of dancing is a sensation I never want to leave. I’m powerful, in charge of myself. However, I know you can’t strip forever. Perverts come with the territory. Some other strippers brag about getting expensive gifts from their regulars at the club. That’s playing with fire. One girl talked about a stalker that followed her home one night. Hopefully that never happens to me.

  I continue shopping, getting clothes, mostly pajamas. Besides going to work, I like to lounge around the motel, watching lifetime movies and eating chips in pajamas.

  I finish my shopping, heading toward the register. Almost forgot my hot plate. I scurry to the houseware section, getting a double burner hot plate. I’m aware we can’t cook in the rooms, but dammit, I’m hungry. I’ve exhausted all the fast-food options. Anyway, it’s time for a home-cooked meal. Something that sticks to my stomach.

  The cashier gives me the total. I dig into my bra and pull out my hundreds of dollars in singles. The greasy-haired boy scowls at me because I got the money out of my bra. Or maybe because it’s all singles. Either way, I don’t give a damn. He’d better count this money.

  He looks down the line, then back to me.

  I shoot him a sharp stare to say “what’s the fucking problem?”

  He says nothing, and he counts each single. All two hundred and eighty-seven of them. I ordered my Uber since he’s taking forever. He finishes. I nearly see the steam floating from his head.

  “Have a good day,” I tell him as I gather all my bags in the cart. He doesn’t respond. How rude, I think.

  I exit the double doors, waiting for Eve in a red impala to pick me up. I notice a bulletin board with business advertising. One thing is calling my name.

  My stomach boils. It can’t be, I think. I bolt closer to the board, leaving my cart. I snatch the flyer down, and my face stares back at me. “Missing,” the flyers read.

  Who the hell is missing?

  Please contact Mill Creek Police Department with any information. All of my information is listed. Even my tattoo is on here. I tear the paper up, but there are questions swirling about my brain. How many flyers are around this city?

  Chapter Twelve

  Colton

  How the hell do I tell Willow I’m engaged? Worst of all, I’m getting married in three days. The tie on my shirt is nearly strangling me. I loosen it and lean back in my office chair. I’m at work early. I needed to escape the stuffiness of home and concentrate.

  I’m in love with Willow. I know I am. I can’t stop thinking about her.

  Then there’s Ashleigh. She is a complete drag. She excites nothing in my being. Mother wants me to marry her because she’s a dragon. I can’t go against her. How could I be so stupid? Having an affair with a married woman. The sleazy sex ruined my life.

  I flip a glance out my window at Lake Michigan, noting the crisp white skies as the birds roam freely. A quick thought enters my brain. It would all disappear if I take a dive into the lake. Or spread my wings and fly to a remote area and leave this all behind me. I have flirted with the idea of disappearing before. After my father’s death, the sorrow was unbearable. I survived with the help of antidepressants.

  Considering the pain it would cause my family, I decide against it. However, I need someone to talk to and quick.

  I grab my desk phone and call my cousin Kyle. He’s a little older, and he gives excellent advice. Besides, he’s married to a witch. I laugh at the thought. In the early days they wouldn’t allow such foolery. Willow is a demon, but at least she’s not a witch. My father used to say the witches are sneaky. They will hex you and leave you crazy.

  “Hello, Kyle.”

  “Hey, cousin. What’s wrong?” Kyle questions with concern.

  Certain he can hear the tremble of my voice, I mumble, “I need some advice. I’m drowning.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In my office at the club.”

  “I’m coming now,” he quickly blurts and hangs the phone up.

  I have kept my depression at bay, but this situation is causing it to creep back into my life.

  There’s an urgent pounding at the door, before it swings open. Kyle enters, his tall stature reminding me so much of my father. Although Kyle is younger than Sebastián, he has lived. He takes off and explores the world. He can relate to that constant sensation of failing Mother’s expectations.

  He takes a seat. “What’s bothering you, little cousin?” he prods.

  “Your aunt.” I sigh.

  He smirks. The wrinkles in his face are less tense. He’s heard my issues with Mother before. She’s overbearing, but not as bad as Aunt Michelle.

  “She wants me to marry this chick Ashleigh.”

  “Let me guess. She’s a dragon?”

  “Yeah, she is. And a snooze-fest. I can’t wake up to her every day. Besides, I’ve fallen for someone else.”

  His eyes bulge. “Really? Who?” His tone is wistful with a hint of anxiety.

  My eyes burn with shame. I stutter, the tremors clogging my throat. I lower my gaze to the floor. It’s hard to stare him in the face and tell him she’s a stripper at the club. He would assume I’ve gone insane. Fuck it, he will know, eventually. “Toni. She’s a stripper here at the club.” I narrow my gaze back to his face, waiting to see his expression.

  He frowns, then places his finger on his chin. A slight smile curls on his lips. He nods his head with his face glowing. “No.”

  “Yes,” I respond. He knows who I’m talking about.

  “The Stallion?”

  I blink. “Yes.”

  “Aunt Lucinda is going to blow a gasket.” He lets out a gaggle of giggles.

  “But she’s an awesome person. Stripping is just her job.”

  “Yeah, but Aunt Lucinda won’t see it that way,” he utters.

  “What should I do?”

  “This is your decision to make. But my advice would be to break up with her.”

  “Why?”

  “Do you see yourself marrying a stripper? Is she worth Aunt Lucinda disowning you?”

  “No, but…”

  He cuts me off. “If you don’t marry Ashleigh, the clan could excommunicate you.” He clears his throat. “When are you to marry Ashleigh?”

  “Saturday,” I growl.

  “Saturday, as in three days?”

  I nod.

  “I don’t know how you get yourself out of this one, cousin.”

  “Thanks, cousin. I need a break. I’m going downstairs to get a drink.”

  I hurry to the elevator, cringing at my life. The anger brewing in me is overflowing. There is such a rage in me I could set this building on fire.

  The music is playing low, and there are supernaturals here already. Some never leave, it appears.

  Kyle is right. I have to decide. I don’t want to lose my family, but I don’t want to hurt Willow either. She’s the best thing in my life right now.

  I exit the elevator and get to the bar. “You want your usual?” the bartender asks.

  “No. I need vodka straight, no juice.”

  “Coming right up,” she says.

  I can’t believe my life is in such shambles. I scan the club. And, to my surprise, Willow enters. I look down at my watch. What is she doing here? I can’t face her, not now.

  Quickly, I pivot back around to the bar, lowering my head. Maybe she won’t notice me.

  I’ll tell her the truth. No, I can’t. She’s fragile right now. She just escaped a terrible relationship…. Now this.

  Damn, she looks so good, and the sight of her face brings joy and panic.

  “Here you are,” the bartender says. I take a swallow and it sets my chest ablaz
e. This shit is too strong. I thought the drinks on the main level were watered down. I pat my chest when I feel a small hand placed on my shoulder. The heaviness of sexual tension crowds my space, that tingle of magic she has that sparks when she touches me. Like lightning during a rainstorm. I glance over at the purple polished nails. No need for me to see her. I feel her in my spirit. I’m faintish now and nearly fall off the barstool.

  She must have noticed me right away. I’m not turning around; I don’t want to see her. I’m a fraud. She’ll never trust anyone again if I hurt her.

  “Hello there,” she says.

  She said she wants to keep this on the down low. So I’m going to act very professional.

  I twist around. “Hi, Ms. Toni. How are you?” I’m having flashbacks of all the nasty things we engaged in. She’s standing there looking look a sundae on a hot summer’s day. Get a hold of yourself.

  “Fine,” she says. “How are you?”

  “Fine, just need a drink. Have an excellent performance,” I respond before snatching my drink and hurrying to the elevator. Can’t fraternize with the employees.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Willow

  I make it to work early, barely able to sleep since I saw the flyer. This morning when I looked in the mirror, I saw a shell of myself. This secret is getting the best of me. My skin was pale and the dark rings under my eyes had become the size of grapes.

  I’ve decided it’s time to confess to Colton the whole truth about my past. My actual name and what I’ve done. Seeing my face on the missing flyer scared the shit out of me. I don’t want him thinking my name is Toni forever. Or that I lied to him. It could damage our relationship. Maybe I could sleep and the nightmares will disappear. The scent of burning flesh is not one you can forget.

  I only lied about my name because of my situation. Since I am very serious about him, I’ll tell him. Otherwise it would be safer to keep it to myself.

  Entering the club today is different. I’d always noticed the opulence, but never how smoky it is. Cigarettes are one of my pet peeves. Thomas is a chain smoker. Not to mention how bad it is for your lungs. I cover my nose and shoot a sharp glare to the bar. What are the chances? I immediately spot Colton sitting at the bar. Usually, he’s not on the first floor this early.