The Secret Arrangement

by Vanessa Waltz

  His intensity doesn’t fade, even as red dots sprinkle the ground. August is an unhinged beast.

  I’m afraid to greet him, but if he doesn’t stop, he’ll ruin his hands. “Hey.”

  The bag shudders with a fierce blow. August turns away, his expression still furious.

  It’s as though he struggles to recognize me. “Lily.”

  “My God.” I gape at his bleeding hands. “What are you doing?”

  He glances at his ripped knuckles and shrugs. “They’re fine.”

  Sympathy pains stab my joints as I study the swollen fingers. “They’re bloody stumps.”

  “I’m not perfect,” he says, breathing hard. “Sometimes I need to unleash my rage.”

  “Look around. What do you have to be angry about?”

  His eyes flash. “If I’m so lucky, why are you in a rush to leave?”

  “Because I didn’t realize I was trading one prison for another.”

  “If you’re trying to guilt me, save it.” He stalks to a fountain and cleans his wounds. “You’re way better off here than that tinderbox. It was only a matter of time before something horrible happened.”

  “Well, congratulations. I’ve lost my spot. I can’t return, so I’m basically homeless unless I want to live with my racist dad.”

  He shakes drops from his fists. “Do me a favor and wait a few weeks. If you still hate the place, I’ll let you go. But I think it’s a big mistake.”

  Arrogance isn’t a good look on him. “I’m leaving, August.”

  A smirk tugs his lips as he strolls to the bag. “Suit yourself. Don’t come crying when my guards drag you inside.”

  “Stop treating your limbs like a goddamn meat cleaver. Give me them.” I grab him before he can attempt a swing. “Where’s your first-aid kit?”

  “It’s near the free weights.”

  I find a battered white box and open it. “You are such an idiot. Who doesn’t use gloves?”

  “I do this all the time.”

  “You shouldn’t hurt yourself. There are healthier ways of dealing with rage.”

  “Yeah, like wha—ow.” He hisses as I pour iodine on the ravaged flesh.

  “Stop complaining.” I rinse him and dab his knuckles, wincing at the blood. “This will take forever to heal. You’re out of control.”

  Amusement flickers in his gaze. “That’s why I need you.”

  Heat gathers to my cheeks. “Try Prozac instead.”

  In our conversations, August never came across as a tortured soul who vented his frustrations by tearing his skin.

  But now he’s smiling at me. He’s enjoying having me fuss over him. It’s an excuse to touch him. When I tape the bandages, he takes my hands.

  “You’re wearing my ring.”

  I shouldn’t. “I’ll give it back. Just not yet.”

  He tightens his grip. “Lily, I couldn’t live with myself if I left you there to rot. I’m sorry, but I don’t regret what I did.”

  “You’re sorry, but you’re not sorry. That’s a non-apology.” He smirks, and bile rises in my throat. “I miss my best friend, but I can’t talk to him anymore. You ruined that for me, and I hate you for it.”

  “I’m still here.”

  No, he’s not. The August I knew didn’t exist. “Whatever.”

  Wordlessly, he slings a towel over his damp tank top. He mops his neck and chest and then tosses it in a pile near the free weights. “Want a tour?”

  Not like I have anywhere else to be.

  I follow him down a dirt path. “Has it always been just you here?”

  “Pretty much.” August brings me to an iron kissing gate after a five-minute walk. “This is my favorite place.”

  I push through, walking into a narrower section with more forked paths. The trees are different. It’s as though I’ve hiked into another world. A burst of orange at my feet tugs at my memory.

  “Are those California poppies?” I kneel, fingering the bright plant. “You have redwoods here!”

  “Yeah.” He sounds pleased I noticed. “My mom loved California. Dad built this while she was pregnant with me.”

  I pause, affected by his somberness. “You never told me.”

  He grunts. “It’s a sore subject. He used to live here, but we get along better when we're apart.”

  “Your mom called you August, didn’t she?”

  “Yes.” A warm smile carves dimples into his cheeks. “Look at you. Beautiful and smart.”

  I flush with pleasure as he takes my hand. We explore the garden. August stops when we approach rushing water. He leads me to a tranquil spot beside a small waterfall. Sun blankets a patch of soft grass.

  “Let’s sit.”

  He doesn’t give me a choice, tugging me down. It’s a charming nook. Zen-like. August stretches with a catlike grace. I admire the scenery, the smells, and him.

  He catches my eye more than anything else here. “I appreciate how hard you’re trying to make me love this place.”

  “Is it working?”

  “This is very nice, but that’s not the point.”

  “I agree,” he says with a mischievous slant. “You moved here to marry me.”

  I twist the ring around my finger. “Yeah, but you lied about everything.”

  “Who cares what my father is?” August tugs my arm. I slide onto the meadow. Within seconds, his torso hangs over mine. I’m stolen by his penetrating stare.

  The occasional awkward family function shouldn’t be a deal-breaker.

  Blood rushes to my head as I succumb to his touch. I want him. I doubt that’ll ever change. It would take much more to erase all desire for August.

  He grins. “That’s funny.”

  “What?”

  “You stop arguing when I’m on top.”

  Smug asshole. “Shut up.”

  Gently, his lips seal against me. I melt into the ground, overwhelmed with his passion. His hand dives into my hair. His hips grind into me. I kiss him with a barely contained fire. When he draws back to breathe, I yank him closer.

  Every kiss reminds me why I came. I was in love. I wanted a life with August. He sold me a fairytale, and I bought it.

  I can’t do this.

  We break apart.

  Confusion fills his gaze as I push his chest. “What’s wrong?”

  I move away, ignoring the ache for more. “You shouldn’t kiss me.”

  “Like hell, I won’t.” August traps me in his embrace. “We’ve talked and talked and talked about fucking. You’re finally in my arms. I’m never letting you go.”

  “August, I’m leaving.”

  “I know.”

  He doesn’t sound like he does. “Do not make this harder than it needs to be.”

  “Well, I don’t plan on making it easy.” August releases me with a wink and a smile. “Fine. I’ll stop.”

  For now.

  He won’t let up forever because he’s selfish. I’ll leave this place in tears. My heart will be broken. I’ll spend months trying to forget him.

  Two weeks, and I’m gone. I can handle that.

  His warmth leaves my side as he stands, heading up the path. I watch his ass flex as he climbs. My pulse races as the wetness from his lips dries from my skin.

  Maybe I can’t.

  Chat Archive (3/16/17)

  Lily: Tell me about yourself.

  August: Why do I get the feeling this is the beginning of a job interview?

  Lily: Smartass. I’m just curious about you.

  August: Of course you are. I’ve kept you hanging on the edge of your seat.

  Lily: We’ve talked for hours, and I know so little about you. What’s your family like?

  August: Mom died when I was a teenager. My dad and I don’t get along. The rest of my family isn’t worth wasting breath over, believe me. What about you?

  Lily: My parents are assholes. I left when I was 18 and found a cheap place with five roommates. It took a while, but I eventually saved enough to put myself into art sch
ool. I majored in Fine Arts, which was a big mistake. It’s hard to get paid for art!

  August: Wanna know the ugly truth? I’ve never been to college.

  Lily: What? But you’re so…wow. That’s surprising.

  August: My dad thought it was a waste of time. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps.

  Lily: And did you?

  August: Nope. ;)

  Lily: Damn it. Power went out. Again. I’m messaging you through a stolen Wi-Fi network.

  August: Isn’t that the third time this week? Your landlord sucks.

  Lily: Ha ha…Technically, I don’t have one.

  August: How’s that possible? Ah, I know. You’re squatting in someone’s house.

  Lily: It’s a secret. Sorry. A girl’s gotta have something private.

  August: And I thought I knew everything about you. Hmm.

  Lily: You’ve seen me naked. That doesn’t mean you know me. Can I ask you a question? How many times have you touched yourself to that photo?

  August: Every day.

  Lily: Really?

  August: Yes.

  Lily: I think about you a lot. Actually, I think about you when I shouldn’t.

  August: Like—at church? Because if you are, that’s naughty. And hot as fuck.

  Lily: Do you think we’ll ever meet?

  August: Hard to say. I really hope so.

  Lily: Why can’t we?

  August: I told you, I can’t talk about it. I know it’s frustrating. You probably don’t believe me at all, but I can’t right now.

  Lily: You’re married, aren’t you?

  August: Hell no. It’s not like that. I’m…stuck somewhere. I can’t travel yet.

  Lily: Ah, you’re a felon. ;)

  August: Haha. No.

  Lily: Never mind. It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.

  August: I don’t want to get your hopes too high, but I’m doing everything I can to change my situation. You seem like an amazing person. I want to meet you.

  Lily: My hopes aren’t up. Right now I’m just content to have you as a…friend with benefits? Does phone sex count?

  August: Aaand we’re back to sex again. :P

  Lily: Damn it. I’ve got to go.

  August: All right. Bye <3

  10

  A fist hammers the door.

  Damn it. Despite the hundreds of empty rooms, he always finds me. I was looking forward to a peaceful afternoon in the library. It’s a small room packed with books. Natural light shines through the skylight. If I’m going to survive, I have to spend the weeks separated from August.

  Plus there are dozens of English to Spanish textbooks. The spines are barely broken. He bought these for me, thinking I’d stay. It’s sweet and frustrating.

  Like that persistent tapping. He probably wants to ask me for lunch or a walk. Most of the time, I cave. If I keep doing that, leaving him will be so much harder.

  I ignore him and flip through pages. If I’m quiet, he’ll leave.

  Eventually.

  The knocking grows louder. I trace phrases with my index finger, sounding out sentences. “Come—como say yam—”

  Tap, tap, tap.

  I snap the volume shut. It’s useless. I can’t concentrate.

  How does he know where I am? “I am studying!”

  “Sorry,” a new voice booms. “I need to talk to you.”

  I don’t recognize him. “Come in.”

  The door cracks open, admitting a broad-shouldered man decked in military regalia. He strikes an imposing figure in the black and gold, but his chiseled features are apologetic.

  “Apologies for disturbing you.”

  “I assumed you were August. I’m so sorry.” The text slides to the table as I stand, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to be rude. Like I said, I thought—”

  “August,” he says smoothly, mouth curving. “Yes. You mentioned.” He walks swiftly into the room and extends his arm. “Hello, Miss Osborn. I’m Alejandro—or Alex, if you prefer.”

  His jet hair and eyebrows darken a smooth-shaven, masculine face. His skin is several shades darker than August’s, and flecks of amber dot his mocha eyes.

  “Lily, just Lily.” I take his hand, which easily dwarfs mine. “What can I do for you?”

  “The general requests your presence,” he responds in a thick accent. “Follow me.”

  Crap. The finality in Alex’s tone suggests I can’t refuse him.

  Abandoning my book, I stride out of the library. “I’m sorry, I still have no idea who you are.”

  “I’m a coronel.” He guides me through the arcades. “In English it’s a—”

  “Oh, colonel?”

  “That’s it. How are you liking our country?”

  “I haven’t seen much of it, but what I’ve witnessed is beautiful.”

  The colonel’s stony demeanor cracks. “I’m sure it’s nothing compared to California.”

  We exit the courtyard as I mull how to respond to that. “Well, the weather is different. It’s not humid at all. In fact, it hardly rains.”

  “Hmm.”

  Alex leads me to a green truck. I search for August. “Is my fiancé coming?”

  “Oh, he’s meeting us there.” Alex opens the back passenger door. “If you please, ma’am.”

  I’m torn between amusement at his politeness and discomfort. “Call me Lily. I insist.”

  He searches me through the rearview mirror before starting the car. Soldiers pile into the vehicle, and we whisk from the compound.

  Excitement ramps in my chest as the landscape passes by. It’ll be a treat to see more of this place.

  The jungle thins out as we travel. I fan my neck, not used to the unrelenting humidity.

  Alex blasts the air conditioning. “Better?”

  “Yes, thank you.” We cruise past a city, Valencia, and I peer at the snarl of traffic moving through the streets. “What’s he like? The general.”

  I don’t expect a straight answer from Alex, but I’m curious what he’ll say.

  “He’s very just. I believe he’s the best man to help rebuild this country.”

  Spoken like a true sycophant. That’s about what I expected. “Hmm.”

  “Has your fiancé brought you into town yet?”

  I shake my head. “I want to go, but he doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “I can always bring you. Let me know.”

  “Sure.”

  We turn into an airfield after passing through the gates of a military base and park next to a fighter jet. People outside open the door, and I descend.

  Alex mutters something to the soldiers, and they run off. He stands beside me as I gawp at the plane. “When I was a boy, I wanted to fly one of these. It was my dream.”

  “Did you?”

  “No.” He smiles. “I was meant for other things. Like you.”

  I laugh, taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

  “You didn’t imagine you’d end up here. Am I right?”

  More than he knows. I spent half my days dreaming. I even convinced myself I could make a living doing what I loved. If I had the talent, it didn’t matter.

  Unfortunately, life rarely works out that way.

  “You don’t have to be scared. This is a safe place.”

  “That’s what August keeps saying. If it’s harmless, why can’t I go there myself?”

  A frown knits his eyebrows together. “My country is like any other in the world. Some areas are dangerous, others are not.”

  That’s an oversimplification.

  I don’t know why I’m mentioning this. “There are laws against assembly, aren’t there? And free speech?”

  Discomfort fills his gaze. “Yes.”

  “That makes me feel unsafe.”

  “All you know is what’s on television. You should give us a chance.”

  I bite my lip. “I would like to see how things are for myself. Spending my days in a bubble protected from everything wasn’t what I envisio
ned.”

  Alex touches my shoulder, eyes filled with sympathy. “Perhaps I can help.”

  “How?”

  “General Espada wouldn’t mind if I gave you a tour. I don’t need your fiancé’s permission.”

  The thought of going over August’s head to spend time alone with another man saturates me with hot, bubbling guilt, even though Alex suggested it. I shrink from Alex’s touch, unnerved by his confidence. “Thanks, but I think that’d destroy my marriage before it started.”

  He begins to speak, but cuts off. A car arrives in the hangar, a sleek, black luxury vehicle. Alex faces it, body tensing into a salute.

  General Espada climbs out, searching the crowd.

  He finds me and flashes a grin. “Excellent. Thank you for coming.”

  I realize how far we are from the compound. “What am I here for?”

  “We’re doing a photo shoot. Is that okay?”

  My mouth drops as a media van stops in front of the fighter plane. “I guess. Where’s August?”

  “Augusto.” The general’s good humor flickers. “And he’ll be on his way.”

  Shit. “He doesn’t know where I am, does he?”

  “Someone has just notified him.”

  “When he realizes you whisked me away, he’ll get angry.” Hell, I’m pissed that I fell for this. “He’s my fiancé. I wish you didn’t put me in the middle of your…issues.”