“You notice how people stare at the two of you here?” Adesh said as soon as they were alone. “More specifically, they stare at you.”
Nick had noticed. There were other mixed couples like them, but they all received a few lingering, sometimes disapproving, glances, especially from the older shoppers. Shyla didn’t seem to care, which lessened the awkwardness for Nick. “I figured they were looking because I’m so devastatingly handsome.”
Adesh’s surprised look was priceless. “What?”
“Relax, it’s a joke, man.”
He narrowed his eyes, his jaw tightening. “You’re going to ruin her reputation. These things get around. She will have difficulty finding marriage prospects once the rumors start.”
Her marriage prospects were not something Nick cared to think about. “It’s nice how concerned you are, but our relationship is none of your business.”
The other man continued as if Nick hadn’t said anything. “In my opinion, I think it’s very wrong what you are doing. She’s an innocent girl, and you’re this rich sophisticated New Yorker. Don’t you feel you’re taking advantage of her on some level?”
“Just so we’re clear, no one asked for your opinion—not her, and certainly not me. We’re both adults. It’s you who is taking advantage by claiming she isn’t intelligent enough to make her own decisions.” They were quiet for a minute, each man taking in the other’s harsh words, the tension thick with animosity. Finally, Nick couldn’t take it anymore. “Why don’t we talk about your real issue?”
“What issue?”
“You’re jealous of me. I can’t blame you. She is an amazing girl, but allow me to deflate any illusions you might be harboring. She. Is. Mine.”
Adesh laughed. “For now.”
The two words were very simple, but they piercced his heart with the precision of an arrow. “If it was up to me, she wouldn’t work with you, but I don’t tell her what to do. I respect her decisions, even if I disagree with them.”
“What is your point?”
“Back the fuck off.” Nick countered between clenched teeth, elongating each word.
“Sure man, I’ll do that.”
“Good.”
“I get it. You were in the mood for something exotic in your life, and she was there.” Adesh looked over at Nick. “It’s apparent she was delivering more than sandwiches all this time.”
Nick’s fist clenched, blood rushed through his body, his anger reaching a boiling point. But he saw the families and small children walking around them. He rationalized the ramifications of what he was about to do and how it would affect Shyla. Nick saw the look in the other man’s eyes, the challenge of his statement, and the possibility he wanted a physical reaction. He unclenched his hand and straightened, drawing himself to his full height, and used his words instead of fists to drive home the message. “If you ever speak about her in that way again, I will not be responsible for my actions. She loves your family. She speaks very highly of you, and I would hate to put her through any distress by harming you, but I won’t let you insult my girl. And make no mistake about it, she is my girl.”
Nick smirked, bearing all his teeth, his stance one of power. Adesh’s eyes widened as he shrank back. Mimicking Adesh’s earlier gesture, Nick clapped him on the back, with much more force than necessary.
“Good talk,” he said, before walking across the street to search for Shyla.
Chapter 25
Shyla sat on the counter as they both listened to the popping sounds of microwave popcorn.
“What are we watching? It’s your turn to pick,” she said, a visible pout on her sultry lips.
He smirked, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Why do you say it like that? I stuck it out through Chronicles of Boring for you.”
“How could you not like Chronicles of Narnia? The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe was my favorite book as a child.”
“It’s definitely a children’s story,” he muttered.
“And so is Indiana Jones, or as you like to call it, ‘the greatest movie ever made.’”
He chuckled at her use of air quotes. “Shyla, don’t misquote me. I said it’s the greatest franchise ever made. Except for the fourth one.” He lowered his voice just above a whisper. “We don’t talk about the fourth one.”
“Please, can we take a break from it? I need one after the second movie.”
“What? You didn’t like Temple of Doom? That’s not even a sequel, baby, it’s an equal.”
“I suspended my disbelief so much, I believe it’s orbiting Jupiter right now.”
“Oh yeah, because Chronicles of Narnia was completely based in reality.”
She swung her legs back and forth. Nick stilled them. He secured them around his waist. “What do you have against Indiana Jones? He wears a fedora and carries a whip. What’s more badass than that?”
She wrapped her arms around him. “I have issues with how my culture was portrayed.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Well, first of all, Kali is the Goddess of empowerment. She’s a warrior, but she’s not evil. And most Hindus are vegetarians. We don’t believe in eating animals, let alone…human sacrifice.”
The beep of the microwave interrupted them. Nick took out the popcorn and threw it in a bowl. “There was definitely artistic license used, but there are always traces of truth in all fiction. The movie is based on a real group.”
“It is?”
“They were a group of bandits who traveled across India and claimed to be the children of Kali. They were called Thugees—the original thugs.”
She titled her head, surprised once again about his knowledge. “How do you know that?”
Nick shrugged, throwing a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “I’m a writer. I know a little about a lot of things. Anyway, I think Kali is interesting without any fiction. A warrior goddess who becomes drunk on the blood of her victims. The only thing that calms her from destroying the whole universe is her husband. I kind of love the role reversal.”
“You know the story?” Shyla said with surprise.
“I saw you roll your eyes during the movie. I did some research.”
She nodded, both touched and impressed by Nick’s desire to understand her culture. Somehow, she couldn’t put that into words so she went on with her diatribe of criticisms. “That’s not the only issue in the movie. We certainly do not eat monkey brains.”
“Chilled monkey brains,” Nick corrected.
“Chilled monkey brains which resembled Jell-O. Ridiculous,” she said, crossing her arms.
“You just said you don’t eat it so how would you know what they look like?”
He threw a piece of popcorn in her open mouth. “More salt?”
She chewed slowly. “Just a pinch. I’m no reptile specialist, but I’m fairly certain when a snake is cut open, little snakes don’t come out of it.”
Nick snorted. “You’re right.”
She flushed, watching the muscles in his arms flex as he reached into a cabinet. He turned toward her, his lips curled in a smug smile. “It’s apparent you’re not an expert. I mean, it’s common knowledge when a serpent is cut open, little serpents spill out.” He placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “I know you’re not a biology major, but I question if NYU is slipping on their high standards.”
She laughed, a sound that came out frequently around him. “Be serious.”
“I am. I got your game, sister. You’re trying to get me to denounce Indy. Well it won’t happen.”
She sighed. “I’m just trying to convince you to pick something else for your movie choice.”
“C’mon, tell the truth.”
“What truth?”
“You were freaked out the whole time. You clutched my chest like the damn white Queen was offering you Turkish delight.”
“So you were paying attention during my movie.”
Nick opened the fridge, “Juice box or wine tonight?
�
�Wine, please.”
“Yeah, you probably need it to calm your nerves for tonight’s movie.”
She pointed to her chest. “Are you implying I was frightened?” She straightened up, her stubborn personality refusing to yield admission to his claim.
“It was a statement, not an implication.” Nick handed her a glass of white and uncapped a beer for himself.
“I was not. Also, by the way, I don’t think a heart continues to beat when you rip it out of a man’s chest.”
She took a sip from the glass, relishing the sweet taste. He licked his own lips before leaning in to kiss her deeply, his tongue mingling with hers. “Have you ripped out many men’s hearts, Goddess?”
“No,” she murmured, wrapping her legs around him.
“Don’t worry, I have the perfect movie for us,” Nick whispered.
* * * *
Seventy minutes later, Nick glanced at Shyla on the couch. The girl bit her bottom lip while clutching the pillow as if it was a life raft. He actually felt guilty, even though he’d chosen the tamest slasher flick he could find.
“Are you scared, baby?”
She managed an offended expression, but it didn’t fool him.
“No, this is a dumb movie,” she said, waving her hand in dismissal.
He smirked, arching a brow. “C’mon, you can admit it. I won’t judge.”
She shouldn’t have revealed she’d never seen a horror flick or try to pretend his previous selection hadn’t frightened her, especially when it was his night to pick a movie. Of course, he’d had an ulterior motive, figuring she’d cling to him, but Shyla was as stubborn as they came, and instead, the damn pillow had seen more action than he did.
“I’m not scared, I’m bored.”
“Oh, I see. That’s your bored look? Because you look more frightened than the actors.”
“It is.” She feigned an exaggerated yawn.
“Okay, give me the pillow then.”
“Why?” she asked, her voice suddenly anxious.
“I want to rest my head.”
“Rest it on the arm of the couch.”
“No, that’s not comfortable. Give it,” he said, grabbing it from her.
She gripped it tighter against her chest. “I’m using it.”
“For what? It’s not going to save you.” He scooted closer to her. “Baby, we can turn it off if you want. I thought you wanted a break from the Indiana Jones trilogy.”
“Trilogy? You said there were four movies.”
Nick shook his head slowly. “I also said we don’t talk about the fourth one.”
“I just don’t understand, Nick.”
“Understand what?”
“If everyone who goes to this lake dies, then why do they keep going?”
Nick chuckled. “There would be no plot if they didn’t.”
“How does he keep surviving? He’s been shot and stabbed a thousand times.”
“You know, I was freaked out the first time I watched this, too.”
“You were?” she asked with surprise.
“Sure. I think I was five or maybe six years old. I almost shit my pants.”
She threw the pillow at him.
“Finally,” he said, setting it on the far end of the couch and laying his head down. “Now, no more talking. You’re distracting me from this fine cinematic experience. By the way, there are like fifty of these movies.”
Once the credits rolled, Nick got up.
“Where are you going?”
“To take a shower.”
“I’ll go with you,” she said, standing up and closing the gap between them.
“You know what, why don’t you get started, and I’ll clean this up.”
“I’ll help you,” she said, grabbing a glass.
He took it from her. “I’ve got this. Go.”
She stood her ground, looking unsure. He kissed her forehead. “Unless you don’t want to be alone right now.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
He quirked his eyebrows, a mischievous grin on his face. “Because you’re afraid of a certain masked man?”
“As if I would ever give credence to something so unrealistic. Teenagers having sex while a lunatic is running around?”
“Actually, I think that’s probably the most realistic part of the movie.”
She crossed her arms, a defiant smirk on her lips. “Don’t underestimate me. I know your game, Nick.”
“What game?”
“You want me to play the panicky girl, rushing into your arms.” She placed the back of her hand on her forehead. “Oh Nick, I’m so terrified, I don’t know what I’ll do. Please hold me tighter. Please keep me safe.”
Yeah, she totally nailed it.
“All right, if you’re not scared, then just get in the shower by yourself.”
She straightened her shoulders. “I will do just that.”
* * * *
Twenty minutes later, she crept into the living room, dressed in her panties and a white tank top. Nick was nowhere in sight. Even though he’d left the lone lamp on like he always did, it seemed creepier now than ever before. The furniture made large shadows on the walls, and the wooden floor creaked with each step.
“Nick?” she called out.
No answer.
“Nick, where are you?” she asked with more urgency.
No answer.
She walked toward the kitchen to get a glass of water. The television turned on, white fuzz covering the screen.
“Very funny,” she muttered, turning it off and searching for him. He had to be playing with the remote.
She swung her head when a dull thud sounded from the closet, followed by a knock. She tried to ignore it but the sound grew louder, echoing through the space.
She chided herself for falling victim to his obvious prank. She headed toward the bookcase to choose a book, but the sounds didn’t yield. Each time, they grew more sinister, more commanding. Did he think he was the only one who could play this game? She took a deep breath and padded toward the large walk-in closet.
She pulled open the door. Clothes swung with their hangers, but only darkness lay beyond the dim glow of light from the living room. A frustrated gasp escaped her as she went to shut the door, embarrassed for being so silly, until…a hand reached out, clasping her wrist, pulling her back inside.
She shrieked and stumbled to the far side of the closet.
“It’s okay, Shyla, it’s just me. I’m sorry, baby.”
“Why did you do that?” she cried.
“It was just a joke, sweetheart.”
“Turn on the light.”
“Shyla—”
“Turn on the light right now!” she screamed.
He turned on the light switch inside the closet. She crouched in the far corner, her back to him, pretending to shiver.
He placed his hand on her back. “Hey, you’re okay, sweetheart. I didn’t think you’d have this kind of reaction. Please, forgive me.” The worry in his voice almost made her change her mind…almost.
She turned around, her arms raised in attack. Nick fell on his ass.
“Fuck,” he shouted.
She’d put on his goalie mask.
“Shit, where the hell did you find that?” he asked, holding a hand over his chest.
“From the bookshelf.” She held up her arms, trying to achieve a villain’s laugh. “Come here, baby. Let me hold you.”
“Funny. Take off the mask, smartass.”
“Sure,” she said. She lifted it off, and he gasped again as she bared her teeth…vampire teeth from a Halloween party. She clinked them together. “I want to suck your blood, Nick.”
“That’s a good look for you… sexy.”
She took out the teeth, crawling over him. “You deserved it. Turning on the television and then hiding in here.”
“I didn’t turn on the television.”
“Yes you did. I turned it off.”
“With the remote?”
“Yes.”
“If the remote was out there and I was in here, how could I turn it on?” He tried to hide his impish grin, but his mouth wouldn’t cooperate.
She smacked his chest. “Just admit it. There’s no shame in being afraid.” She leaned her ear against his chest. “I can hear it beating.”
“That has nothing to do with being scared and everything to do with the fact that I can see your tits though your shirt.”
“Just confess. I got you. It won’t make you any less manly in my eyes,” she said.
“I will admit only one thing.”
“What’s that?”
He playfully slapped her ass. “You’re gonna get it, naughty girl.”
“You’ll have to catch me first,” she said, springing away from him before he could grab her. She bounded out of the closet.
He ran after her, through the loft, her laughter intermingling with his predatory roars. She ran around the couch. He jumped over it. She ran to the far side of the dining table. He held the opposite flank. She tried to slide past him, but he grasped her waist. He picked her up and flung her over his shoulder. Gasping, she wriggled in his arms, but his hold was too firm.
“You can’t escape me. I’ll always catch you.” He threw her on the bed.
“Maybe I wanted you to.”
“Time for your punishment.”
“How will you punish me?”
“First, I will utilize the strongest truth technique known to man, one so devious that not even the CIA will use it, but I am a desperate man on a determined mission.”
“What technique?”
He flexed his fingers above her. “Tickle torture.”
His fingers wiggled against her sides until she laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe. She tried to pry his wrists away. They didn’t budge. “Stop!”
His touch transformed from tickle to caress. She tried to regain her breath, but his feral glance at her heaving breasts made it difficult. She ran her fingers down the chiseled lines of his face. He hadn’t shaved today. The full beard made him mysterious, yet alluring. The clean-shaven face created a boyishly handsome façade that made her knees weaken. But this…this in-between stubble was something new, and her whole body quivered in response.
His expression turned sensual with her touch. His eyes grew dark with lust. He kissed her neck and jaw line, his fingers running through her damp hair. He took off his shirt. She ran her hands down his chest and over his washboard abs. She unfastened his jeans. He hooked a finger on each side of the waistband of her panties, rolled them down, and tossed them on the floor.
Unwanted Girl Page 21
