by Rome, Ada
“Brinley?” Cami’s voice came through the door. “Brinley, are you ok?” The hinges creaked as she pressed it open a crack. “Can I come in?”
I cleared my throat and willed my voice not to tremble. “Yeah, I’m fine. No big deal.” I dotted my wet mascara with a paper towel. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
When I emerged, Cami was already back at the table. Cayne turned in his chair and watched me. I gave him a weak closed-lip smile from across the bar.
Another person had joined the group in my absence. He looked to be in his early 20s, had black hair slicked back from his forehead, and wore a leather jacket studded with rivets. Cami chattered excitedly in his ear and whirled the straw around and around her nearly empty glass. He observed her with an amused expression.
Cayne stood when I reached the table. I resumed my seat. He raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question. I nodded to indicate that I was better.
“Brinley, I would like you to meet Jasper Slade, a dear friend and total jackass.” He pointed to the leather clad young man.
“Thanks, bro. That’s quite an introduction.” Jasper held out his hand to shake. The edges of a tattoo curled around the side of his neck. His steel gray eyes shifted fleetingly over to Cayne as we both settled back into our seats. I got the impression that Jasper already knew something about me.
A riot of giggles sounded from a nearby table. A group of five girls, none of whom appeared to be over the age of twenty and all of whom were clothed in sparkly tube tops in varying shades of pink, red, and purple, was taking a selfie. They leaned provocatively forward, all smooth arms and cleavage, and made pouty duckfaces into the camera.
Jasper poked Cayne with his elbow and jutted his chin toward them. “That looks right up our alley, man. How about it?” He winked and leered suggestively at a pair of long bare legs in white five-inch platform heels.
I glanced over at Cami. Her posture had visibly deflated. She gulped the last remaining bit of her drink and slammed the glass petulantly onto the table.
“Nah, man.” Cayne laughed and held his palms up in a gesture of surrender. “Too easy. There isn’t enough brain power there to find its way out of a paper bag.”
“Who cares about brain power? I don’t want to discuss current events with them.”
The girl with the legs noticed Jasper staring. She flirtatiously flipped her light brown hair over her slim tan shoulder.
Cami sighed and tossed a rolled up section of napkin in Jasper’s direction. His attention was completely absorbed by the girl in the tube top. She bent forward and played with the strap on her sandal, giving him a full flash of her pert young breasts as she pulled down the seam of her top and adjusted it so it rested barely above her nipples. Jasper bit his lower lip and grunted.
“I have an idea.” Cayne slapped Jasper’s arm with the back of his hand. “Why don’t you and I get these two lovely ladies home? I’ll take Brinley and you take Cami.”
“Huh? Seriously?” Jasper’s jaw hung slack and his eyes were glazed.
“Yes. Seriously.” Cayne’s voice deepened with the command. He stared at Jasper through lowered brows.
“Yeah, sure. Alright.” The spell was broken. Jasper jabbed Cami good-naturedly in her shoulder. “You ready to go, champ?”
Cami’s posture perked up. She nodded, her corkscrew curls bouncing. We stood, and she jogged around the table to wrap me in a tight hug.
“Good night, Brinley! I’ll see you at work tomorrow!”
Cayne lightly touched my elbow and held onto it as we walked toward the exit.
“Work?” he asked once we were outside.
The humidity that had felt soupy and thick under the midday sun now felt chill and refreshing, the moisture prickling along my bare arms. The moon hung chalky bright. The country heavens were sprinkled with full constellations of stars that I had not seen in a decade. Cayne placed a hand on my lower back and guided me toward a black pickup truck.
“I start waitressing at the diner tomorrow,” I explained.
Cayne laughed and opened the passenger door. I climbed into the seat. The tequila was wearing off, along with the queasiness and carnival of internal spinning.
“That’s great news.” He settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “So that means you’re staying for a while?” I thought I detected a twinge of hope in the question.
“I think so. I mean, yes. I am staying for a while.” I heard myself stammering. Cayne shot me another sideways grin.
“Good,” he said simply. He tapped my knee. “Listen, I kept meaning to tell you. I checked out the car this afternoon. I won’t bore you with the details, but the end result is that I need a new part in order to fix it properly. Top-flight sports cars don’t show up too often around here. I’ve put out inquiries to other shops and dealers to see if anyone has the part that I need. It’s safe to drive in the meantime. Just don’t go too far.” He winked.
“Thank you. That’s no problem at all. I have nowhere else to go.” This sounded both pathetic and dismissive. I regretted saying it. We drove in silence for a couple of minutes.
Cayne stopped at an intersection. There were no other cars around. He turned in his seat and faced me. “Brinley, why did you come back? Why now? What’s going on?”
“This is my home.” I swallowed hard. “Why shouldn’t I come back home?” I felt guilty about being so evasive, but it had become a reflex. And I was not ready to tell Cayne the truth. I was not ready to tell anyone the truth.
His eyes sought mine in the darkness. I rested against the seatback, and he brushed my forearm and hand with his fingertips. “Ok. If that’s how you want it.”
“Cayne, it’s just…there are things that I can’t…”
“It’s fine, Brinley. You don’t have to tell me anything.” He shifted the car into gear. We continued through the empty intersection.
I opened my mouth to speak several times but remained quiet. I wanted so badly to offer some kind of a justification, however feeble and half-complete, but the right combination of words failed me. A strange mixture of pride and shame kept me tongue-tied. I was ashamed that I had allowed myself to be broken in the first place and too proud to let anyone glimpse the shattered pieces. If that led Cayne to imagine that I was hiding secrets, he was right. But maybe his imaginings were preferable to my admitting the awful truth.
He pulled up to the curb and cut the engine. I noticed a light in Aunt Lu’s bedroom and saw a twitch of curtains. Then the light went out.
“Thank you for the ride,” I said weakly. I picked at my jeans, nervously scratching my nails into the denim.
“No problem. It’s the least I could do after holding your car hostage. Besides, it gave Cami a chance to spend some time with Jasper. My sister couldn’t make her feelings any more obvious if she wrote them across her forehead. He’s not a bad guy, despite what you may have witnessed tonight. Cami’s had a crush on him since she was thirteen, and he has yet to take advantage of it. Of course, he knows I would beat the shit out of him if he ever hurt her.”
He stared thoughtfully through the windshield for a few seconds.
“Cami has always lived very close to the surface,” he continued. “She’s never hiding anything. I admire that.” He placed a hand on my leg to cover my fidgeting fingers. “Not like us, I guess, huh?”
I was confused by his reference to “us.” When he mentioned hiding, I assumed that he was speaking only of me. But I knew what he meant about Cami. I admired and envied people who were capable of living entirely on the surface, their thoughts and emotions an open book for the world to read. It showed a fearlessness that I had never been able to master.
Cayne kept his hand on top of mine. I turned my palm up. Our fingers intertwined. “Are you hiding something, Cayne?” My pulse rate increased. I felt tingles of heat around my neck and cheeks.
“Maybe,” he said. His eyes glittered in the faint moonlight. My rapid breathing sounded loud in my ears. He leaned toward me
and reached across my body, his muscular bicep grazing the loose folds of my top. I braced against the seatback, fighting a surge of desire that radiated through my body from the warmth of his fingertips on my thigh to the sturdy heft of his chest pressing against my arm.
Then I heard a click. The passenger door swung open. Cayne straightened up, snatched his hand away, and turned the key in the ignition.
“Passenger door sticks,” he said with a smirk. “I just wanted to help you out.”
The insistent ding-ding from the dashboard only heightened my embarrassment. I bent low and fumbled for my purse on the floor. Cayne chuckled. I was about to call him a bastard and stumble into the night when he gently tugged at my elbow.
“Come here,” he said softly.
He lifted a section of hair that had flopped over my face and delicately tucked it behind my ear. Then he rested his palm against my burning cheek, brushed my lips lightly with this thumb, and kissed me. His lips were warm and full. I tilted my head back as he leaned in closer. His fingertips snaked down my neck and chest and under the border of my top. He pressed his mouth firmly and hotly against mine. His fingers danced along the rounded curves of my cleavage and then probed beneath the black lace edging of my bra until his hand was wrapped around my bare breast, squeezing tenderly and fondling my nipple with an expert touch.
I wanted him to go further. I wanted to be naked in his strong embrace and feel his moist lips and probing tongue massage and stroke every part of my body. Our lips locked in a final long, sultry kiss and let go. He squeezed my breast once more and removed his hand. My heart was pounding, my breath was shallow, and my mind was hazy.
“There,” he said as he adjusted the bra strap that had slipped over my shoulder. “I’ve wanted to do that since I was sixteen. Good night, Brinley.”
“Good night, Cayne.” My voice trembled and cracked. I climbed out and picked my way along the uneven path to the front door. I glanced back as I turned my key in the lock and saw Cayne’s truck already rounding the corner.
I undressed and prepared for bed in a pleasurable daze, replaying the kiss over and over in my head and still tingling with the sensation of Cayne’s fingertips on my bare flesh.
Just before I drifted off to sleep, a different vision flashed unbidden into my consciousness. It was an image of Granton, his eyes flashing with menace and a cold maniacal grin stretching across his face. I knew that he was coming for me. And with the sudden chill of a terrible foreboding, I knew one more thing. He was getting closer.
Chapter 5
Look outside.
The phone buzzed once on my nightstand. I read the incoming text before I saw the identity of the sender. A wave of panic crashed through my brain. Granton had been the last person on my mind before I fell asleep and the first to disturb my thoughts when I awoke. But the message was from Cayne.
I hopped from the bed and split open the white eyelet curtains. The dawn had broken golden and serene. Birds chirped in the myrtle trees that framed the yard. My car was parked at the curb. He must have delivered it earlier that morning. I typed out a quick reply.
Thank you. ;)
The phone buzzed again.
Don’t thank me. I haven’t actually fixed it yet.
I showered and slipped on a pair of cutoff denim shorts, a light gray t-shirt, and tennis shoes. I threw my damp hair into a ponytail and bounded down the stairs.
Aunt Lu sat at the kitchen table, stirring her coffee. She was still in her nightgown, a high-necked collection of frills and flowers that contrasted oddly with her stern expression. She looked up when I entered. The clean morning light revealed a spreading network of lines around her eyes and mouth.
“Where are you headed?” she asked, taking a sip of coffee. I could hear a children’s television program coming from the living room, the sound of cartoon singing blending with Georgie’s cheerful babbling.
“I’m starting work at the diner today.” I set my phone on the kitchen table and checked the time. 9:26. I needed to be at the diner by 10. I poured cornflakes into a bowl and the last dregs of the coffeepot into a mug that ironically read “Mother” in curling purple script.
“Brinley.” Aunt Lu set her mug on the table and folded her hands together. Her tone was serious and her eyes, blue as a gas flame, leveled at me. I paused with a mouthful of cornflakes and sat in one of the old pine chairs. “I need you to tell me why you came back.”
I took a moment to finish chewing, biding for time while my brain clicked through possible responses. I sipped my coffee. Aunt Lu’s gaze remained level and intense. She would spot a lie ten miles away. I checked the time again. 9:35.
“I should get going. I have to be at the diner by ten.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Her shoulders drooped slightly, and her voice suddenly sounded very tired. She seemed disappointed.
“I know, Aunt Lu. I’m sorry. I promise we’ll talk about it later.” I rose and kissed her temple, where a few strands of blonde-gray hair had escaped from her bun and swayed in the fan breeze. I shouldered my purse and turned toward the door.
“Wait,” she commanded. She got up and grabbed an object from the countertop. She dangled a set of keys toward me. “Cayne dropped these off this morning.”
I felt my cheeks go pink as I took the keys. She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows.
“Thank you,” I said impassively. She limped back to her seat. Guilt stabbed my gut. “I love you, Aunt Lu.”
“I know you do, dear.”
I pushed open the screen door, trotted down to the curb, and unlocked the car. There was a small note taped to the steering wheel. The top of the paper read “Talbot Auto Shop.” The words were hastily scribbled in masculine block print.
Good luck on your first day.
***
The polyester green waitress dress was quite possibly the ugliest thing I had ever worn. The fabric sealed in moisture like plastic wrap. I could feel droplets of sweat coursing down my torso by noon. The buttons gaped whenever I bent over to deposit or retrieve a plate, and the short flippy skirt regularly threatened to give the entire room a glimpse of my petal pink panties. The defective pin on my oversized name tag stabbed my left breast so many times that I finally tore it off in a huff and tossed it by the front register.
“You’re doing great, girl!” I had just finished serving four heaping plates of meatloaf and potatoes to a group of retirees when Cami appeared at my side. Her fire engine red lipstick played nicely against the tiny sun freckles that sprinkled her nose. She had tried stuffing her abundant hair into a ponytail but only half succeeded. Sprays of errant curls popped out like a halo that grew thicker as the afternoon progressed.
“Thanks,” I breathed with relief as I perched on the edge of an empty booth. “Those old dudes wouldn’t stop staring at my thighs though. I guess I don’t blame them. This dress is so short that I might as well be serving in my undies. One of them kept calling me ‘sugar lips.’”
Cami perched beside me. “Yeah, it comes with the territory. I once had a drunk guy try to stick a rolled up tip into my panties like I was a damn stripper. I broke his finger. He never came back.”
I laughed at the image of Cami being angry enough to commit bodily harm. Like many Southern women, I suspected she had a steely tough side hidden beneath her sweet charm.
“Sooooo, how was your ride home with Cayne last night?” She nudged me playfully in the ribs.
I tapped my toe nervously into the linoleum. I was pretty certain that Cayne did not discuss the details of his sex life with his sister, and I was not eager to tell the world about our kiss just yet. I wanted to see how things progressed, if they progressed. For all I knew, it was just a lark on Cayne’s part. Maybe he was auditioning me for a role as another of his playthings.
“Oh, it was nice,” I said with as much nonchalance as I could muster. “You know, it’s good to catch up and all.”
“Mmm-hmmm,” she grunted suggestively. “Catching up
is fun.” She drew air quotes around the phrase “catching up.” I laughed aloud and slapped her forearm.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I wagged my chin like an offended debutante. We both chuckled. “But how about you and Jasper? Did you two do any ‘catching up’ on your ride home? Seems like you’ve got kind of a thing for him, if you ask me.”
Cami placed her fingers against her forehead and threw back her head like a suffering heroine. “Brinley, don’t even get me started.” She sighed dramatically. “Nothing happened, of course. He treats me like a little sister. I don’t even know why I’m so obsessed.” She giggled and shrugged. “It’s a magnetic pull or something. I can’t resist it.”
I knew exactly how she felt. Cami hopped from her perch. The crowd had thinned to a trickle in the pre-dinner hours.
“Well, it’s the end of my shift,” she declared. “I need to go change and head to class. Eastern European Politics.” She stuck out her tongue in disgust. “Actually, it’s not so bad. The professor is hot in a nerdy kind of way.” The image of Cami trying to master the intricacies of Easter European politics was almost as humorous and unexpected as the image of her breaking a man’s finger. “Justine, one of the part-time gals, will be here at six to start the night shift. Do you think you can hold down the fort till then?”
“Aye aye, captain,” I replied with a salute.
***
The next two hours passed lazily enough. I found tasks to fill the time, refilling the ketchup bottles, arranging the menus, and restocking the napkins. At a quarter to six, a pixie of a girl with a nose ring and gobs of electric blue eyeshadow walked in and introduced herself as Justine. We shook hands as she appraised my outfit.
