Burn Into Me

by Leeson, Jillian

  Fingering the key card in my pocket, I think back to the roller-coaster ride that has been the past few days. Ryder and I have been inseparable ever since the disastrous Thanksgiving lunch. The next day we mostly stayed in his oversized king bed, apart from occasional bathroom visits—ending up doing the wet version of what we did in bed—and opening the front door for home delivery we ordered from his laptop.

  A warm breath in my ear woke me up early the following morning. “Come on, get dressed. We’re going out.”

  “Mmm…where are we going?” Still half asleep, I blinked at Ryder, who was dressed and ready to go.

  “It’s a surprise. Get up, beautiful.”

  I wondered what he was up to when we got into the car—a huge Land Rover SUV this time. Only after heading north on the I-87 for three hours or so, I had a suspicion of where we were heading.

  “Are you taking me to the mountains?”

  He grinned. “That’s where you’ve always wanted to go, right?”

  “Yeah, but isn’t it really cold up there? As in, snowing? I sort of expected to go hiking there one day.”

  Squeezing my knee, he said, “I’ll take you hiking next time. Even if we have to go to the other side of the world, where it’s summer now. Don’t worry, beautiful. You’re going to love the snow, too.”

  And to my surprise, I did. It was my first time to try snow sports like skiing and snowboarding, which I enjoyed, despite the many falls. But what I really got a kick out of most were the snowmobiles. After a bit of practice, I felt confident to race with Ryder, and even managed to beat him a couple of times. It was absolutely awesome. When it got dark, we picked up take-out from a local pub, which we ate in front of the fire of our cosy log cabin, in the middle of the snow-covered forest.

  It had been an amazing, magical weekend, one that I’ll never forget. And what it had made it so wonderful wasn’t the fun activities. No, it had been one very special person. A person who has captured my heart, a person who I can’t live without. It is completely crazy, but in the span of only a few weeks, Ryder has become my everything.

  I grasp the key card in my pocket, its edges digging into my skin. I’ve made my decision—I’m going to move in with him.

  I’m still lost in thought when the owner of the café hands me last week’s wages check, which I failed to pick up on Friday. Clearly, it had been a good week. The amount on the check is higher than I expected, and I am thrilled to have enough for paying overdue rent, with a little left over. Despite my protests, Ryder picked up the tab in the past few days. I know the money doesn’t mean anything to him, considering he has a bucketload of it, but I still have my pride. I don’t want to feel as if he is paying me off for my services.

  After I finish up at the café, I cash in my check for a money order and head home to knock on the door of my landlady downstairs, who is subletting her apartment to me. I’m thankful to Shirelle for hardly increasing my rent over the years; I wouldn’t have been able to stay put otherwise. Usually I manage to pay the rent in time, and on the occasions that I have not, I have never let it slide as late as this month. I am surprised she hasn’t called me up on it; she’s had no hesitation to do so in the past, even when I was only a few days late.

  So when Shirelle opens the door, I expect her to give me a roasting, but instead her full cherry lips curl into a big smile when she sees me.

  “Hey girl. How you been? Long time no see.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been busy. Look, I’m really sorry I’m late with the rent this month. But I’ve got it here.”

  I hand over the money order, and she takes it from me slowly and carefully, as if she is wondering whether she should take it.

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal.”

  I frown. “Huh? No big deal?”

  Shirelle dismisses my puzzlement with a wave of her hand. “The new owner is fantastic. They’re doing up the whole building, inside and out. Repairs, painting, you name it. Did they come to install the alarm?”

  “Yeah, but...”

  “Well, they’re also upgrading the heating system. That was long overdue. They even asked me if I wanted the bathroom and the kitchen renovated. I said yes, so a contractor may be coming around the apartment, I’m warning you now.”

  “And how about the rent? Surely, with all the upgrades, they’re bound to increase it. And I won’t be able to afford it anymore.”

  “Nah. I got a letter from them saying they ain’t gonna put up the rent for the next five years. So no problem.”

  “Really? Wow. I can’t believe they’re doing all that. I wonder who the owner is. What would be in it for them?”

  “Some weird name. Let me check if I still have the letter. I kept it somewhere next to the door. Ah, here it is. CCM.”

  Frowning, I take the letter from her. The logo on the letterhead, a jagged mountain top, looks familiar. Where, oh where, have I seen it before? I skim the letter and notice the signature at the bottom: Alexander Wilson.

  “Sherelle, do you remember when they took over the building?”

  “Not long ago. What, a coupla weeks? Just before they started installing the alarm system.”

  An eerie feeling comes over me, raising the hairs at the back of my neck.

  “I was just surprised you weren’t all over me when I was late paying the rent.”

  Sherelle looks down, studying her red fingernails. “I’ve just been busy.”

  I put a hand on her shoulder. “I have this strange feeling there’s something you’re not telling me.”

  Looking into my eyes, she remains quiet for a few moments before she lets out a deep sigh.

  “You’d probably find out anyway. One of the people from the company came by the other day and got me to sign this piece of paper. I can’t charge you any rent for the next five years. And then the guy paid me cash for a year’s rent in advance. You’re not supposed to know. I’m supposed to keep your money orders and he will collect them at the end of the year, when he’ll pay me again for another year.

  “But I don’t get why I have to keep it a secret from you. I’m sure you’d be over the moon to hear you wouldn’t have to pay me anymore. We’ve known each other for so long, girl. I don’t want you to worry about coughing up the rent each month.”

  Nodding, I mumble a goodbye to her and trudge down the hallway.

  The sordid truth sinks in. I have definitely seen the familiar-looking logo—it was printed on the invitation to the charity function I accompanied Ryder to, as one of the sponsors. The name of the new owner of the building, CCM, could well be an abbreviation for Ryder’s company—Crest Capital Management. And Alexander Wilson, who signed the letter? I’d bet anything Alexander is known as Alex, just like Ryder’s friend and who knows, a member of his staff.

  I can’t believe this is happening. Ryder must have bought the apartment building, installed an alarm system, paid my rent for five years, but doesn’t want me to know about it. Why? He once mentioned that he doesn’t like me living here as he thinks it is unsafe. But what reason is that to buy up the whole frigging building and install a security system? Couldn’t he have spent the money on something more worthwhile than this?

  I stomp to the front door, my hands balled in fists by my sides. Slamming the door, I step outside into the biting cold that does little to cool down the red-hot anger inside me. I don’t know where I’m going; I just walk and walk and walk. But eventually I end up on a bench in St Nicholas Park next to the college campus. It seems to be my place of choice when I’m feeling down. In front of me, a flock of pigeons is scrambling for what looks like a piece of bread. One of them is particularly aggressive, pushing and pecking the others until it manages to grab hold of the bread and wolfs it down in one gulp.

  “This must be my lucky day.”

  Startled, I look up. It’s Mark from The 99. The same Mark who punched Ryder in the face at the public meeting. I let out a groan. How can a day that started off so well go downhill so quickly?

&n
bsp; When he plonks himself down next to me, I scoot away from him until I reach the very edge of the bench.

  “What do you want, Mark?”

  “Just enjoying your company. You sure look hot today.” He looks me up and down in a way that makes me sick to the stomach.

  “Cut the crap. Get lost or I’ll smash you in the balls so hard you won’t walk ever again.”

  “Hey, take it easy now. I’ve got something to show you.” He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a crumpled piece of paper.

  “Remember we were planning to stop that development in Chelsea? And you told Adam you’re sure they’re not building swanky condos? Well, here’s the proof that you were wrong.”

  I snatch the paper from his hand. It’s a letter from BGH Construction to the New York Department of City Planning, detailing a proposal for the construction of luxury apartments in West Chelsea, by the Hudson River. There will be several indoor swimming pools, saunas, and gymnasiums, outdoor spas on private balconies, and a rooftop landscaped garden. The penthouse apartment will have a separate elevator and its own lap pool. I check the date on the letter: the middle of last month.

  “Where the hell did you get this from?”

  Mark shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you were wrong. Do you really, honestly believe that a valuable piece of land in the heart of Manhattan will be used to put up the homeless? Come on, wake up to reality. The developers may be spinning a PR story about helping homeless people, but in the end it’s all about money. Somehow they’ll turn it into a profit maker, earning them their millions.”

  I swallow, tears threatening to form in my eyes. “It—it can’t be true. There has to be some kind of mistake. I have a very reliable source.”

  “Let me guess. Would it be that billionaire guy? Your so-called boyfriend? Yeah, I’ve seen your pictures in the gossip rags. Well, here you have the proof that he’s just a filthy-rich dirtbag who’s telling you lies to get into bed with you.”

  “No! He’s not like that. I…I…”

  Leaping up, I stuff the letter in my pocket and bolt away. My heart is pounding in my ears, and the tears that I tried to suppress are bursting out of my eyes, making everything blurred around me.

  This is not happening.

  He lied. He lied to me.

  What else has he lied about? Was everything we had together based on a lie? Was my love for him a lie?

  My whole world comes crumbling down. Everything I believed in, trusted in, has turned out to be an illusion, of some ideal, unattainable world.

  How could I have been so stupid? Could I ever have guessed this would happen? After all, a billionaire like him should be everything I despise. But he had seemed so genuine to me, and I honestly believed I could trust him. And if this were solely about my apartment building, I may have given him the benefit of the doubt. At least I would be open to hearing his explanation. But his lie about the Chelsea apartments—that is absolutely unforgivable. And why? I just don’t understand why he had to lie.

  A pigeon takes to the air right in front of me, its flapping wings blowing a gust of air in my tear-streaked face. And in a flash, it comes to me: I know why.

  To Ryder, it’s all about control. He wants to control me; that’s why he bought the building I live in. By installing an alarm system and cameras he could keep track of my movements. Who knows, he probably also had cameras installed in my apartment to keep an even closer eye on me.

  As for the development, he must have discovered that The 99 was planning to thwart the demolition of the old buildings. But even if he hasn’t, it would be to his benefit having me by his side, in case groups like The 99 would turn against his project once it changes direction. Eventually he would make me an example of how he was able to break me, an anti-capitalist selling out to a billionaire, the biggest capitalist of all.

  I feel like a knife is stabbing into my heart, causing it to shatter into a million pieces. Acid is filling up my stomach, and all that is left is a gaping hole inside of me. It hurts so, so much.

  How could he do this to me? Did he even care about me?

  Obviously not.

  Instantly, all my throbbing hurt turns into a scorching fury. I was so wrong to let my guard down, allowing him into my heart. I should never have trusted him and let myself be used like this. Haven’t I learned my lesson—that those rich bastards can’t be trusted? How dare he lead me on and play with my feelings, purely to prove a point. How dare he. If he thinks he can get away with this, he has another thing coming.

  My whole body trembling with rage, I march down the street, my destination Ryder’s office. I will tell him that this is not going to work on me.

  I know his game. And it’s going to end—right now.

  Ryder

  Will Elle agree to move in with me?

  That’s all I can think of all morning while I’m sitting at my desk, staring at a framed photo of us at the charity function.

  When she left for work earlier, she accepted the key card to my apartment, so I know she will be back at my place tonight. But will she agree to stay with me, live with me? I want her to. No, I need her to. Because every minute, every second I’m without her, I miss her so badly that I hurt in places where I didn’t know I could.

  And now I am not sure if I can live without her any more.

  If anyone had told me this a month ago, I would have laughed at them. I’ve never had a girl in my twenty-eight years who has come close to be called my girlfriend. Only now do I realize that letting someone in, letting her in, has made me happier than I’ve ever been before. And all that matters to me now is to do the same for her.

  Sighing, I pick up a folder from one of the piles of unfinished work and start reading—it’s the financial projections of the Chelsea development project. I think this must be the first charity project I’ve ever had an interest getting personally involved in. And it’s all because of Elle—I can’t wait to work together with her.

  A commotion outside in the hallway makes me look up from my reading. Among shouting and screaming, I hear my PA yell, “You can’t just barge in there!”

  The door flies open.

  It is Elle. And she is pissed.

  She strides up to my desk and slams it with her fist, making several sheets of paper fly off.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  I leap up from my chair and stalk around my desk, intending to take her in my arms and calm her down, but she shoves me away.

  “Why the hell did you buy up my building?”

  So that’s what this is about. I knew she’d be pissed, but I never expected her to find out so soon.

  “I’ve been looking for a good investment, and the owner was more than happy to sell.” I drop my voice. “But I’ll admit, my main reason was to keep you safe.”

  “Keep me safe? I already told you, I can take care of myself.”

  “That part of Harlem where you live is really dangerous, especially at night. I worry about you. And what else could I do? You didn’t want to move, and I knew you’d never allow me to install an alarm system.”

  “Yeah, an alarm system, huh? With security cameras? Did you have them installed inside my apartment, too?”

  “No, there are no cameras in your apartment, only in the common areas. And they are for security. I’d never, ever spy on you.”

  “I know your game. By paying my rent, you think you have me in your debt. And that means you have control over me. But just so you know, I’ll never fall for your damn lies again.”

  “I’ve never lied to you, beautiful.”

  “Stop calling me that! I can’t stand listening to any more of your crap.” She covers her ears with her hands, but I grab her wrists and yank them towards me so her body is flush against mine.

  “I know I should’ve told you about the building, and I’m really sorry about that. But I swear, I haven’t lied to you about anything else.”

  Elle shoves herself against me, freeing her arms, and
raises a shaking finger.

  “Don’t you dare! I found out. I know about the development.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Everything you told me was a lie. You said you were building subsidized housing to help the homeless. But I just found out the apartments that are going to be built will become expensive condos for the super wealthy.”

  What the hell? I punch my fist against the wall. “Goddammit. I told you the apartments will be built for the homeless, and that’s the truth.”

  “Don’t you dare deny it. I’ve seen proof.”

  “And where did you get that proof from? Let me guess, those anti-capitalist friends of yours? Those douchebags from The 99?”

  She shrugs, avoiding my gaze.

  “You promised me you would take your distance from them. You said you’d be fully committed on helping me with this project. And I told you already, I didn’t lie to you. The apartments will be built for homeless families.”

  She takes out a crumpled paper from her pocket. “I have the proof right here.”

  But when she holds it out to me, I swat her hand away.

  “I don’t care what it says. I’m telling you the truth. And if you don’t believe me, that’s too bad. You’ll just be breaking another of your promises.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You promised me you’d trust me. That you wouldn’t run when the going gets tough. But I guess that goes out the window when you talk to your friends. Whatever I say, it won’t carry half as much weight as what they tell you. And why? Because I’m rich. That’s why I tell lies, that’s why I’m a control freak. I’m evil, I’m the enemy, and I can’t be trusted. Right?”

  Elle puts her hands on her hips, but the fire in her eyes has started to die down somewhat.

  “At least you should have told me about my apartment. That was a lie. A lie of omission, but it’s still a lie. I’ve been nothing but honest with you.”