by Julia Kent
“She’s nuts, Darla. Cuckoo. Whacko.”
“I am right behind you, Trevor Connor. I can hear every word.” We both turned around to see Suzy standing there with her phone in hand, typing away with two thumbs, refusing eye contact.
“I know you can hear me, Suzy. You need to hear it from someone other than a judge.”
Her tapping got harder but she said nothing, then took a few steps forward as if to board the plane.
“Uh, no,” Joely said, holding one hand out, looking at the clipboard with the other. She tapped my shoulder and looked at Trevor and Joe. “You three go ahead and board.” Then she looked at Suzy and said, “Sorry, honey. You’ll have to wait for a later flight.”
“My name is Suzy, not honey. And what do you mean?” She looked at the plane. “It’ll hold me.” Her face twisted into a nasty smirk as she nodded toward me. “She’s the one who violates the weight limit.”
“Actually,” Joely said, nudging me and Trevor forward, Joe in the lead, “you violate too many other policies we have in place.”
Suzy’s face turned red. Bright red. The kind of red you only see when someone is so angry that a new part of their psyche emerges.
“What are you doing here, anyway, Suzy?” Trevor asked, shaking his head slightly as if coming out of a trance. “Are you stalking Joe? That’s a violation of the restraining order.”
Joely reached up and touched an earpiece I hadn’t noticed until now, pulling down a tiny microphone. She whispered into it, then pulled back. “Miss Suzy, you definitely won’t be on this plane.”
“But! But the restraining order expired!” she said. “And that’s a sealed record! You’re not allowed to talk about it.” She gave Trevor a look with an edge so hard it could guillotine him.
Two bodyguard types appeared out of nowhere. “Miss Bergen, we need to sort this out before we can allow you on the plane, so if you’ll just come with me,” one of them said in a voice that indicated she had no choice. These were beefy guys with shaved heads and don’t-fuck-with-me demeanors. You’d expect they’d be as likely to pour body parts into a freshly cemented highway as they would to take a bullet for a president.
“You can’t do this!” Suzy said. “I’ll get you, Trevor! I’ll get Joe! That cow can’t win! I’m calling Joe’s mother!”
And that was when I froze.
“Joe’s mother?”
Her lips spread with an evil smile. “She loves me. Loves. Me.” Her eyes traveled up and down my body, making me shiver even in the heat. I felt like I was being catalogued for her future skin-suit trophy wall. “I’m sure she just adores you.” Suzy rolled her eyes and Trevor rushed me on that plane as the two security dudes escorted Joe’s ex into a small cement-block building.
If I thought the jet plane was a challenge, this one—this felt like riding in my old, rusted-out ’86 Toyota Tercel. Only with wings.
“Puddle jumper” was right. We were squeezed in there like a group of kids from my trailer park in someone’s daddy’s old Cadillac de Ville. You could fit fifteen of us in one of those cars and catch a drive-in double feature for $20 a carload.
But we weren’t here to watch movies. Oh, no.
We were here to fly to our watery graves.
“Ah, I don’t think so,” I said as Trevor put his hand on the top of my head and gently nudged me in. “One of my thighs weighs too much for this thing.”
That made Amy laugh. At least I knew she really was smaller than me. By about twenty pounds. I’d suspected, but…Trevor’s hand landed on my ass with an affectionate squeeze and he leaned in for a quick nibble on my ear.
“More to hold on to when I’m in you,” he said, the touch warm and…yep.
I was wet.
I squeezed into place and worried that a light breeze would push us down in the ocean. Hell, this thing was so small a bird could shit on it and we’d drop a thousand feet from the weight. Joely started the engines and the noise was so loud that none of my screams seemed to matter.
Screams. Oh, yeah. There were lots of them.
Joe
I looked out the window as we took off and saw Suzy struggling with the two security dudes, her face turned up and watching the plane, and I swore I could feel handcuffs on my balls, cinched tight, the chain draped down into my butt crack, making me tense.
Darla was screaming as the plane took off but the sound was drowned out by the engines. There was another sound amidst the noise.
The sound of hope being crushed and fear triggered. Suzy had followed me. Suzy knew how to get to Eden. Suzy was nuts.
And now, even worse—
Suzy was righteously pissed.
An angry Suzy was a dangerous woman, and in the grip of whatever fury she now felt at being scorned not just by me, but by the plane pilot and by—hell, the universe, in her mind—would lead to vengeance.
Think I’m overreacting?
Read the doctor’s report about what she did to me.
No one could hear anything until the plane had reached a decent altitude, and by then Darla had gone hoarse, her words raspy. “Can’t we just take a boat?”
“You could,” Joely said with a little too much cheer. “It takes seven hours, though, and the waters can be choppy.”
“But you’re not in a tin can flying against God’s law,” Darla hissed to me.
“You’re an agnostic,” I reminded her.
“Not when I’m flying in a Sprite can.”
The engines roared and everyone went into a zone, jaws open and eyes wide. I felt the same way, but not because the blue waters and bright sun made me gawk at nature’s spectacle.
Because a sense of doom deeper than anything I’d ever felt before had seeped into my body and brain. What a clusterfuck. Suzy, then Darla on the plane (with a nice interlude in the bathroom!), then Suzy, and now…
What?
Five days on an island, performing the gig of our life, with Suzy on a tiny piece of land surrounded by water meant no escape.
It meant manning up.
Deep breaths, I reminded myself. Life moved too fast sometimes. This was one of those times. My fingers itched to reach out, to hear the voice of wisdom, to have some direction handed to me so I didn’t have to be both the doer and the decider. Making decisions and guiding myself through life was hard.
Fucking hard.
Darla’s eyes locked with mine.
But worth it.
She gave me a sad, silly smile and mugged at me, making me laugh. Miming that her stomach hurt, she pretended to throw up, and pointed out at the ocean. I shrugged, over-exaggerating the gesture.
Suzy could go to hell.
I already had found heaven, and was staring at one of its angels.
Gag. When did I go so soft? But now she pointed to Sam and Amy, who were sucking face, and Darla rolled her eyes and took her hand and made her mouth look like a blowjob, then thrust her hips forward in simulated sex, making fun of the earnest couple who had no idea what she was doing.
The plane began to descend and Darla grabbed her seat in terror. I reached out for her hand and got a death grip in return. That was okay. She could hold on to me whenever she needed me.
Always.
Trevor reached for her other hand and somehow we managed to get through the water landing without Darla throwing up. All of the other passengers seemed to be old hands at flying, which made Darla’s sheer fear stand out.
Darla rushed the door, and as Joely popped it open, Darla stepped out and screamed, “Land!”
“Uh, no. Water,” Joely said, pointing.
“Where’s the land? I ain’t Jesus. I don’t walk on water.”
“The dock is right here.” She pointed to a narrow wooden dock, one that stretched hundreds of feet from a beach, the kind of jut-out you only see on movie scenes.
Except this was real.
I’d been so focused on Darla that I hadn’t looked out the windows as we landed, and as I pushed my own way off the plane I heard Darla shou
t with excitement, “A castle! Hey, guys, we’re at a real castle!”
Sunlight glared off a small boat across from the plane, blinding me momentarily. As my eyes adjusted, I turned toward Darla and saw what she meant.
That was a castle.
“It’s like they carved it right out of a giant rock,” Darla said, followed by a low, slow whistle. All traces of her fear and sickness on the plane were gone, and she seemed giddy. My trepidation and fear of Suzy began to lessen, the grip of the unknown replaced by my sense that we were exactly where we were meant to be.
On the way up.
Brown brick and stone melded together in layers climbing high into the sky, as if the castle were a city. A fortress. Tall spires punctuated the enormous building, a series of terraces and stories that gave the impression that this wasn’t some tiny island getaway with thatched-roof huts and fancy drinks in a fake coconut.
Oh, no. This was nothing like one of those “fancy” resorts that catered to Americans who wanted to go to some “exotic” locale but never wanted to sully themselves by having actual contact with the real tropics.
Like my mom.
Random Acts of Crazy had made it, all right. This was the big time.
As the six of us gathered, Joely assured the group that our luggage would be delivered to our respective suites. Suites? That’s right.
Suites.
Your basic spring-break trip normally meant four of us crammed in a two-double-bed room the size of a dorm hovel, with the scent of pine overpowering the vomit-stained carpet. Then again, on spring break, who cares about your room? The only carpet you give a shit about is the landing strip attached to the pussy you’re chasing.
We were a long way from spring-break student accommodations.
But the pussy chasing…now we just chased Darla around the bed.
The sound of the waves lapping at the piers of the dock, the bright light bouncing off the crystalline water, the hulking castle that stared down at us as if it were alive—it should have been too much.
It was just enough. Just big enough to fill me with a sense of awe, enough to manage on the inside.
How we handled it on the outside was up to us. I took the first step down the long dock extension and the rest followed.
This was our path to greatness.
Chapter Seven
Trevor
The steps leading up to the main entrance of this palace—no, castle—were like something out of a Tolkien book. In fact, I felt like I was from the wrong race or species, even, ascending these stairs to stop before a door that was made for men much bigger than me.
This was a monument built for honor. Duty. Command. Not in the modern military sense, but in an ageless, ancient way, begging for a human authenticity that made me feel worthless and craven, as if I dared to equate myself with the people who had built this.
As if it were an affront to the universe that we were both called “men.”
I was a boy. An infant. A zygote.
A wasted sperm.
Joe felt it, too. Even Liam had a toned-down expression on his face, and his shoulders hunched a bit. We were cowed. Awed. Humbled. What right did we have to perform here?
Hell, to set foot on the floors of such a towering place?
Amy and Darla didn’t have the same reaction. There was a distinct gender line here when it came to our reactions. For once, we guys were more emotional. How’s that for fucking weird?
Darla walked right in like she owned the place. Thick marble stairs led us to a lobby that included skylights that stretched up to the heavens, stained glass sending patterns of colored light that were simultaneously random and meticulously planned, leaving me with an abstract idea that my mind was being manipulated on some deeply subconscious level, as if I were seeing and not seeing something subtle and significant all at once.
What was happening? What was this place?
Who ran this operation?
Liam walked up to me, his feet shuffling a bit, eyebrows furrowed. I wondered if he felt it, too, and he confirmed it when he opened his mouth.
“One hell of a gig. I feel like we’re on some movie set and we’re about to be thrown into Hogwarts.”
“Think bigger,” I muttered. “This isn’t about wands and good versus evil. Something’s really intriguing here.”
“The light is…different,” he added. “Soft and in my head, like my contacts need their prescription updated.” Liam had worn glasses since we were kids, switching to contacts in high school. He was blind as a bat without them, and couldn’t read anything farther than an inch in front of his face.
“You gonna be okay?” I asked. “Maybe the ocean air is fucking with your eyes.”
“It’s not the ocean air,” he said quietly. “I was fine on the dock.” He put his hand on my biceps. “And I think you see it, too.”
I did. He’d put his finger on it. Something visual changed everything, making the room warmer and friendlier, more open and more intimate at once. Darla’s face from afar was gorgeous. Just…gorgeous. Not that she wasn’t already hot and beautiful, but there was a shine to her, a fine-tuning of her features that made her more ethereal. Breathtaking. I felt bigger and lighter, happier and freer, all at once.
Was it this building? This place? Something in the air? Maybe we’d all accidentally swallowed some of Joe’s pills. I should have been exhausted after all that travel and the job of managing Darla, but instead I was pumped. Hyped. Ready to take on our role here and to check out the island, to have some fun and bring some awesome to the stage.
Whatever change was happening to me and Liam was welcome, as far as I was concerned.
I liked it.
“It bother you?” I asked Liam.
A half-smile stuck to his face. “Damn if I know. It’s just…weird.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I keep feeling it.” His frown faded and he blinked, running a hand through his hair.
Darla came back over and the six of us convened near a fountain that I could stare at for the next hour and still not take in its full majesty. “We’re checked in.”
“Where are the room keys?”
She handed us little stickers, like nicotine patches. “Here. Just put it anywhere on your body and it automatically opens your room.”
Five sets of eyebrows shot up. “We’re microchipped?” Joe sputtered. “What the hell is in that patch? Soma?”
“What’s Soma?” Darla asked in a dreamy voice, her face tipped up to the sky, taking in the artistry of the ceiling. Could she be more lovely?
“Haven’t you read Brave New World?” Joe didn’t seem to be as affected by…whatever this was. He was Joe, sharp edges and all.
“Nope. You read Laid Bear? Good book. The bear shifts into a human and they have sex a lot.”
Joe rolled his eyes. “You’re equating one of your mom’s romance novels with Aldous Huxley?”
“How can you two fight in a place like this?” Amy asked. Her face was luminous. Sam was a lucky man. My cock twitched and I quickly turned my attention to Darla, because I wasn’t going there. Amy was…off limits. Always and forever.
But damn if every woman in this place didn’t look good enough to eat. In every way possible.
“Cut the crap and let’s go find our rooms. Then we need to talk to whoever is in charge of facilities and ask about equipment setup, rehearsals, sound checks, how they want this presented, speakers,” Joe cut in. Ever the businessman. Which was fine with me, because I didn’t want to do any of that right now.
I wanted to grab Darla, find a quiet corner of beach, and make love in the sun all day. And have Joe join us halfway through.
She smiled at me as if I’d just said that aloud, and just as my dick responded, my heart melted. Everything here was larger than life. The walk down the hallway made me feel like I was in a Gatsby movie. My parents had taken me to plenty of luxurious places with Persian-rug-lined hallways and century-old carved oak walls. None of that im
pressed me.
It was the feel of the place. Darla stared at everything with her mouth wide open, eyes like saucers. I knew she didn’t get out of Peters—ever—so this had to be a thousand times more overwhelming for her than it was for me.
I needed to remember that.
So deep in my own thoughts I wasn’t paying attention to everyone, I almost plowed over poor Amy as the entire gang came to an abrupt halt.
“Trevor!” Liam called back. He, Joe, and Sam were clustered around a series of framed photos on the wall between guest rooms.
“Yeah?” What could be so interesting in a hallway?
“It’s Taddy! Holy shit, Taddy did her centerfold here!”
A zing of hotness filled every inch of my skin and I pushed past Darla and Amy to see if Liam was serious. He was right.
“Who’s Taddy?” Darla asked.
All four of us guys laughed. “You don’t know?” I asked, amazed.
“Why would Taddy be plastered all over the walls here?” Joe asked, his voice lulled into the same sense of reverence that we all had. Sam just stared, saying nothing, his hands tapping at his sides.
Amy spoke. “If you bothered to read the words—oh, hey, look! There are words next to the picture. Who knew?—you’d see that they shot this spread ten years ago, here. On the island. Apparently the centerfold is a big deal.” She and Darla shared a look that made it clear they didn’t understand the enormity of that particular event.
My opinion of this place just went up a level.
“Which room is ours?” Liam asked, eyes still on the framed picture.
“They didn’t say. You just—” We walked past a room and a tiny nameplate near the door went from blank to Liam’s name, and the door opened on its own.
We all stopped cold.
“Did you do that?” he asked, pointing.
Darla shook her head. “Nope. Must be that patch thing.” None of us had put them on. We each held the little piece of paper they were stuck to.
“Is this The Twilight Zone or what?” Liam said.
“If this is Twilight, watch out for sparkly vampires,” Joe cracked.
“In a place like this…” Darla trailed off as she looked at the fine molding, paintings that probably cost more than my house in Sudborough, the lavish interior that stretched on and on for what seemed like miles.
