Marked

by Charisse Spiers

  She's wearing the same red sports bra and black spandex shorts she was that day I saw her outside, her hands covered in black, leather, fingerless gloves. Her hands are clenched onto the cage of the fighting ring, her fingers hooked through the holes. She's sweating, her skin glossy as a result, and staring off toward me with her chest heaving up and down, but she still hasn't noticed me on the other side of this door, most likely from the window tint. Fuck, she's beautiful, whether she's covered in makeup or not wearing any at all like right now. I want her to know it too. More importantly, I want her to believe it.

  I shove through the doors and walk toward her. Her lips automatically turn up into a smile when her eyes land on me, as if I'm just the person she needs to see. That makes me fucking happy. "Can I help you, sir?"

  My expression matches hers. "Well that depends."

  "On..."

  "If you're my instructor."

  "What if I say no?"

  "Then I'll just have to convince you that you are."

  "Oh yeah? How are you going to do that?"

  I take off in a sprint. When I get to the ring I jump up on the edging of the platform, gripping onto the fence in front of her, our bodies mirroring each other, only separated by the fence between us. "By giving you the best kiss of your life."

  "Eh...you're not really my type."

  I bite into my tongue, trying to stay serious. "Why not? I'm everyone's type. I thought all women liked bad-boys, no?"

  "I'm not like all other women, sir. I'm one of a kind. You can't just kiss me anytime you want. You didn't even ask if I wanted you to. That's kind of rude, you know."

  "That you are, baby. That you are.... So, you want me to ask, huh? How do you want me to ask? Down on one knee? At our front door as we say goodnight? Out on a dinner date over wine? Lying on a blanket under the stars? Just name it and it's yours."

  Her eyes widen. I wait for it....

  Still waiting....

  And nothing.

  Then her eyes change. "Do I look like a sap to you? What the fuck happened to you? Have you been brainwashed by aliens?"

  She pushes off the fence and walks backward toward the center. "Fucking stargazing and romantic dates, my ass. The only time I better see you on your knees, Cox, is when your face is between my thighs. Say more shit like that and you are banned from kissing. It's starting to go to your head."

  I bite my bottom lip, almost breaking skin, my eyes probably still giving me away. "Okay, tell me what it is you want then, woman."

  I climb up the fence using my upper body strength, before making it to the top and changing to the other side. I jump down, making a loud thud as my feet hit the platform. She's staring at me. "Fucking showoff."

  I stalk toward her, before pulling my shirt off and tossing it by the fence. "You haven't seen anything yet. Tell me what I have to do to get a kiss."

  "Work for it of course. What else would I have you do?"

  I look around. Surprisingly the room is empty. "You're on. What'll it be, beautiful?"

  "We fight for it. If you can get me down you can have it."

  I look at her, my eyes going to the tattoo I marked on her body. It's moving with her breathing. "You off today?"

  "Why?"

  "Just curious."

  "Yes. I took a short leave. I called Jason on my way here. He said to take all the time I need.... with pay. I guess that's what happens when you work your ass off for someone for years. Here lately, though, it's a wonder he hasn't fired my ass."

  "How serious are you?"

  "You can hit me and I'll leave it in the ring. Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I'm fucking weak. I can take it."

  "I don't have any doubt that you could, but that's not what I'm asking."

  "Then what is it? Spit it out. Time is wastin'," she says and winks.

  "I think it's time I took you on a date. A proper one."

  "I'm not sure I like your version of dating, Cox. Before if you had asked I would have thought adrenaline rush, danger junkie, or seeing how many places we can experience public indecency without getting caught; you know...forbidden things, but now I'm liable to come home to a vase of roses, a box of chocolates, or a fucking love note. Cut that shit. I will never be that girl. Ever."

  "You get me down, you take me on a date; anywhere you want to go, but if I get you down, where and what is my choice. Are you in, or are you scared?"

  She takes a step toward me, just as I thought she would. "Nothing fucking scares me." She holds out her fist between us. My lips turn up and I press mine against hers, knuckles to knuckles. "When?"

  "Right after this."

  "You're on, Cox," she says as she places her fist inside of her other palm, bowing before me, and then standing. She takes her stance, fists up and ready to roll. It's hard not to laugh. I'm not about to hit her, but I will outsmart her. Not so long ago I would have, because that's just the sport. It's part of it. Now, though, I can't.

  She comes at me and swings; a left hook to my face. I pop my jaw. She packs a pretty hard punch, harder than I gave her credit for. I’m sure it’ll leave a discoloration for a few days. I take a few steps back. She follows me, swinging again. I dodge this time. "Fucking fight me back, Kaston. Don't act like a girl. I can take a hit. I have plenty of times before."

  And that's exactly why I won't hit you...

  I bend over and come running at her, acting as if I'm going to plow into her middle, but let up just as I get to her body, scooping her up and putting her over my shoulder. "Dammit, Kaston. Stop making me look weak! Put me down."

  She maneuvers one leg over my head, squeezing her legs around my neck, trying to choke me out. I drop to my knees and throw her forward, letting her upper body fall over me, her back roughly hitting against the platform, before grabbing her arms and pinning them above her. I press my body on top of hers and lean down toward her, laying a kiss on her lips. "You don't have to prove to me that you're strong. I already know that you are. I've seen it over and over. It's not in me to hurt you anymore, not even in foul play."

  I kiss her again and stand. "Where are you going?"

  She holds out her hands for me to help her up, so I do. I smile. "To show you my version of a date. Fuck flowers, they die, fuck chocolate, it doesn't last beyond a few seconds, and fuck love notes when I can tell you what's on my mind. I aim for the things you won't forget."

  Just before I turn and pull her away I notice a spark in her eyes. She's a dare devil and I love that about her. What's coming will be priceless.

  My stomach is in knots as we walk toward our destination. This is one of those things you talk about doing your entire life, but most don't have the guts to actually do it. As I'm one step from doing it, I've even considered backing out, and I live for stuff like this. "You ready?"

  The small plane is only a few feet away, making me more anxious. I grab ahold of the harness covering my body in my fists for a distraction. "Hell yeah. I wouldn't miss out on this for anything. I just need to prep myself. We could die doing this."

  "We could, but at least it'd be both of us. At this point I'm not sure the world would be interesting enough to live in without you." He looks at me and winks. I'm cheesing fucking big time right now and I don't even care. "Besides, you aren't really living till you're living on the edge." He grabs my left hand, linking them between us as we carry our helmets in the other. "How's this for your adrenaline rush, danger junkie, and since I just fucked you in the bathroom after the course, public indecency without getting caught, all rolled into one?"

  "You fucking nailed it."

  We get in the plane and position for takeoff, everything I've just been taught going through my mind. I can't believe I'm about to skydive. Holy fucking shit this is real. I can barely breathe from nerves. I look at him as the pilot starts the propeller. "Where are the instructors that are supposed to be with us?"

  He smiles like the Grinch who stole Christmas and grabs my helmet, putting it on my head, and then fastening it. "Do y
ou really think I would bring you up here and let another man strap himself to your ass? You really should pay more attention. If I didn't have enough training to go with you this wouldn't be an option."

  I roll my eyes. Go fucking figure. "Is there anything you haven't done?"

  "Very little. My childhood consisted of money and lots of spare time."

  He puts on his helmet and tightens all the belts and harnesses. If he goes any tighter I won't be able to breathe. The plane starts to roll, increasing speed down the runway, before lifting off the ground, angled in the direction of the sky. I grab ahold of his hand and squeeze the life out of it as we elevate, getting higher in altitude. I can feel his eyes on me. "Don't judge me. I've never flown," I scream, to be heard.

  He lets me squeeze as hard as I want, not saying a word. My hold begins to loosen as I look out the door in midair, the clouds floating by. "It's beautiful," I whisper, more to myself than to be heard, not even meaning to say it aloud. The colors of the sky blending is like nothing I've ever experienced. I can't turn away.

  "It's time," he says, upon signal from the pilot. My stomach is about to be left behind. The only other person in the plane besides the pilot signals when to get in jumping position. Oh, God. Please don't let me die. I don't think my brain is even processing information right now as I look down at the bottomless bowl of blue, because Kaston is attached to me before I even knew he was hooking us up to jump.

  We step to the edge. I think I've forgotten all of the instructions. Fuck. What was I supposed to do? Breathe. Just breathe. He picks me up by the waist, just enough to lift my feet from the floor and jumps, sending us out the door of the airplane, and suddenly we're free falling through the air. Kaston grabs my hands in his, lacing them together and holding them out beside us; like a bird. I remember he's here, and that's when the panic vanishes. I start to breathe again. Adrenaline takes its place and the smile reappears on my face as I experience what it's like to fly. I feel like I'm high as we soar through the air at rapid speeds, gravity pulling us toward the ground. There is no other feeling in the world that I've ever experienced like this. He lets go of my hands, but I don't even care.

  My body jerks as he releases the parachute, slowing us down as it opens and catches air, changing us into a vertical position. I lay my head against Kaston's shoulder, savoring every fucking second of this. From a bird to a hot air balloon in mere seconds, you can't get any better than this. Nothing else exists up here: no bad, no good, and no ugly. Up here, you can really be...free.

  That fabulous high starts to dwindle the closer the drop zone gets; a small field. When our feet hit the ground we run together until we're able to stop. Kaston immediately unhooks the parachute from him and us from each other. He must have removed his helmet already, because I can hear him speak. "How was it?"

  I turn around; helmet still on. I stand here for a moment, trying to calm my breathing, my body shaking from the rush, before removing my helmet and throwing it on the grass. I jump in his arms and he catches me, holding onto me underneath my thighs as I place my hands behind his neck. Without thinking I crush my lips to his, not able to explain what I'm feeling any other way. I can't explain how I feel, not even to myself. It's a mixture of so many different things and it confuses me, so I'll leave words out of it.

  I kiss him as if I'm starved for his taste and he lets me, returning it back with the same neediness that I give. My mind starts to spin, making me dizzy. I roughly pull at his lips, our tongues gliding against each other. I don't even notice I'm lying on the ground until the grass tickles my face. He growls against my mouth as he sucks the end of my tongue, and then pushes my legs wider to press his hard dick between my legs. "Fucking jump suits," he mumbles against my lips, then breaks the kiss, both of us out of breath. "They're fucking useless when it comes to easy access. If people weren't about to pick us up I'd strip you naked right here. What the fuck was that? If I had known I'd get that reaction out of you we would have done this already."

  I pull the corner of my bottom lip between my teeth. "That was fucking epic. I'll never forget that for as long as I live. You can officially kiss me anytime you want."

  "That was fairly easy. I was prepared for plan B."

  "Wait, there's more? What if I want to see plan B."

  "Another day. I can't show all my cards at once. I wouldn't want you to get bored too fast."

  I'm not sure I ever could with you...

  "What next then?"

  "Dinner. Your pick."

  He pushes himself off the ground and helps me up. I watch him, thinking. "How about takeout and getting drunk by the sweet-ass pool I saw at your house, a little late night skinny dipping, and then desert." I waggle my eyebrows. "That's as close to fucking stargazing as you're going to come with me."

  "Fucking perfect. What you want to drink? Wine coolers?"

  My mouth drops. I scoff. "Fuck no. Do I look like I want to puke my guts up before I even get a buzz? I don't drink that shit." I walk toward him, passing him, before speaking again. "I want it hard or bitter, baby. You can even add a little salt, but I don't do sugar rushes."

  I hear him grunt behind me, but I keep walking toward our ride now waiting to take us back. I form a gun with my thumb and index finger, holding the imaginary barrel end to my lips, blowing across it. I still got it...

  I turn over again, not able to sleep for shit. I can only lay here staring at the ceiling for so long before it's just uncomfortable. I can hear Kaston breathing evenly, confirming he's sleeping peacefully, probably in a beer coma from our private party on the patio. Food, alcohol, music, and Kaston, makes one hell of a good time. Just saying. I will never hear the word skinny-dipping without being turned on again. I didn't even know pool sex like that was possible. Holy hell, I need to get up. I'm still drunk from earlier, but not tired. My body is going full force, my mind unable to stop from everything that happened today.

  I throw back the covers and slip out of bed, replacing them where they were, and then tiptoe out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind me. I walk to the kitchen and open the refrigerator, grabbing a bottle of water. Opening the top I take a sip, the box filled living room catching my attention. That's going to suck, figuring out where to put all my shit.

  My legs start to move, migrating me toward the small pile in the center that I don't recognize, because it's noticeably different than all the crisp, brand new boxes in the room, clearly the work of movers. I flip on a lamp, take another sip of my water, and then replace the cap on the bottle, before setting it on the coffee table. It's one, worn, cardboard box, marked with Katherine's personal items in black Sharpie marker, along with one, large, black garbage bag tied closed. I stare down at it as I pull my hair into my fist on top of my head, securing it with the ponytail holder that I am wearing around my wrist until it remains in a messy bun.

  I sit down on the hardwood floor in front of the box. Chill bumps sprout all over my legs from being left uncovered, only wearing a tee shirt and panties. It's cold in here from the air being turned down low, so I cross my ankles and bring my knees to my chest, before pulling Kaston's shirt over my legs to cover them. The box isn't even sealed, only the flaps crisscrossed over each other to keep it shut. I pull them free and then look inside. There isn't much in there. Mostly stuff I made in elementary school like Christmas ornaments, hand print pictures, and Mother's Day projects. All of it is homemade except for the large scrapbook at the bottom that’s peeking through.

  I lift the edge of the papers on top to grab the book, pulling it out from under everything. I pull my shirttail up to put my legs down, crossing them in front of me. I set the crimson red book in my lap, each cover pinstriped in gold. I'm not sure what she would have something like this for. We never really did anything that memorable.

  My fingers clench the edge of the cover and pull it open, revealing the aged pages that it protects. Written on the first page is my name and birth announcement information.

  Lux Karoline Larsen />
  Born on May 13, 1990, at 11:39 PM

  7 pounds 5 ounces

  20 inches long

  Taped beneath the writing is a newborn photo of me. Resting in the crease, folded in a trifold, is my original birth certificate. I quickly flip through the pages. It's like flipping through time, starting from her pregnancy and going all the way through my life, ending at my high school graduation. I didn't even think she showed up at graduation. Where did she get that photo? Surely I would have seen her that close in radius. It's a candid shot, but I'm actually smiling beside Delta. That's the day we left for Atlanta with that crappy car packed. There is an important item for each stage of life. I'm confused. I've never seen any of this stuff before. I didn't think she even had sentimental stuff.

  I flip the last page, staring between it and the back cover. Aligning against the seam is a sealed envelope, the addressee turned away from me. I pick the envelope up and turn it over, reading the cursive script across the recipient section.

  Charles Williams III

  323 Professional Blvd Suite 6A

  Atlanta, GA 30312

  I've never heard that name before, but that's local. Who is he? My gut is giving me a really bad vibe, making me nauseous. Moving my hand from the interior of the book, the envelope still in hand, I shut the book and place it back in the box.

  I look around, listening to ensure I don't hear Kaston. The house is silent aside from the air conditioner. I stand and make my way to the patio doors and unlock it, before flipping on the light and stepping outside. I trip over our shoes we left at the door, making a loud noise as one ricochets off my foot and hits the window of the door. My knuckles scrape against the cement, trying to catch my fall with the envelope in my hand. "Fuck!"

  I stand, my destination drawing my attention. "Of course my drunk ass is going fall and make noise when he's asleep," I whisper, frustrated. I walk toward the Jacuzzi and lift part of the lid. The temperature reads 102 degrees. Perfect. He has it on. Maybe this will make me tired.