by Mara Lynne
“And Ray can come too!” he quickly adds when he notices my face tensing a bit. “He can make a good clown. Oh, definitely not the one we can bully around. That’s not what I meant.”
“I know, Colin,” I say. I think he brought up Ray into his invitation because he knew I was going to turn him down. With Ray around, I will never feel awkward with anyone. Clever plan, Colin. “I’m going to tell Ray, but I am sure you’ll be busy with work. Your job requires your time and a lot of rest, I guess.”
“I can always make time for you, Angel.”
The glint in his eyes portrays something more than hope. I am just not sure it’s time to welcome such an idea. Isn’t it too early to assume?
“Well, good night, Colin.”
“Good night, Angel.”
I watch him walk to his car as he emanated this school boy-aura. I honestly should have set boundaries in this meeting. Seeing Colin Verne all inspired and happy, I just can’t help but speculate that he might be having some thoughts—of me… of a possible us. I am no idiot to not notice how he stares at me during dinner. If Ray was right when he told me a long time ago that Colin has his eyes on me, then inviting him tonight could well be a wrong move. I don’t think I am ready for another one.
Not this time.
Not now when I am at risk of losing my job. Not now when I have to deal with Hunter Stone’s cruel manner of getting me, and I am at my most vulnerable state. It’s not just the right time. I am afraid my heart is too tattered to even make space for Colin.
In a little while, Colin’s absence alleviates the congestion in my chest. When I go back inside, I know what awaits me. Ray will not stop, and neither will my Mom. Hence, I think I should stay outside while I let the wintry wind freeze my disturbing thoughts.
Resting my eyes on the deserted road, I wait for something that will take my mind away from anything that has to do with love. I can only wish for a grand parade like what I see on Mexican television. Floats with colorful flowers everywhere, dancing people, music, drums, and trumpets. I think it might be the only solution for this, but there’s no parade on my street, only a few cars that could be maneuvered by daddies who cannot wait to head home to see their sons and daughters before they go to bed.
And somewhere under the dark, cold sky, my eyes pause across the street where the most awaited distraction has been lurking for I don’t know how long.
There he is… slowly turning his back on me and walking away with his hands in his pockets.
What is he doing outside my house, anyway?
Yes. He is the distraction I need to erase Colin in my head.
But no.
He is definitely not the distraction I need to annihilate thoughts about love and pain. He is not.
Damien.
He is walking away from me again just like he did six months ago. With that familiar look on his face, I know he is still haunted by the horror I brought into his life. I am the daydream that turned into a nightmare. I am the snake that disguised itself as a butterfly. I am his atomic bomb. Because of me, he is ruined. His life has had a complete 360-degree turn.
It changed for the worse.
“Damien!” I shout on top of my lungs.
Maybe…
Just maybe.
A tiny glimmer of hope, little by little, crawls up to my head and whispers to my ears, He might listen to you this time. He might think twice and stop running away. He might still be in love with you. He might just be hiding it. Although my head is telling me, He might just not. You are deluded by that foolish glimmer of hope, Angel.
However, somewhere near my chest, I hear something screaming.
She screams for me to take my chances.
Her direction is clear. She wants me to follow her and ignore other possibilities.
For a moment there, I thought my remaining grain of hope would ignite to grow into a mountain of faith. It seems like my legs have a mind of their own. They run without my brain telling them.
Damien!
They cross the street, not minding if I get run over by speeding cars.
Damien!
He is nowhere to be found now.
I look everywhere—left, right, front, and back to my right again.
Damien is gone.
He’s gone again.
My eyes begin to flood with tears. They fall down my cheeks like a waterfall.
“Damien!” I call out. My crazy legs turn along a curve and keep running until I reach an old, abandoned churchyard. Damien is nowhere to be found.
“Hey, look what we’ve got here!”
I turn around, gauging my movements carefully, and see two men in ragged clothes, Their hands are on their hips, and their noses are pierced with bronze-colored rings. From afar, I can smell gallons of alcohol from their mouths, reeking like a spoilt waste from last night’s meal.
“Seems like we’ll be loaded tonight, Smith!” tells one to his long-haired companion.
“I don’t have anything,” I say. It’s true. I only have myself, my clothes, my pair of shoes, and this damn frustration for missing Damien again. If they want to rob me of something, might as well be the latter. I want to be freed from it.
Please, take it away.
As they move toward me in huge, silent strides, I tremble in fear. What should a poor, scared lass like me do? Run? Hide? There’s no way I can do that now. Stripped of any escape routes, I press my back against the steel gates of the church. I am afraid for my life. The taller of the two men, whose teeth are as yellow as daisies, pulls something shiny out of his coat pocket.
It’s a knife.
“Oh, scared already, pumpkin?” the other man chuckles.
My legs shake. My fingers and toes freeze, and my face turn pale.
As the point of the knife nears me, I could only close my eyes and pray that I live after they slash my throat.
Honk! Honk!
Strong, blinding flashes of light suddenly appear, accompanied by long, strong honking from nowhere—postponing my death. Then another long barrage follows, intent on making the scumbags flee.
Honk! Honk!
“Get yourself out of there, loser!” one of the men yells. “What? Too scared to piss right in your pants without mommy to wipe your ass?”
And they start laughing.
The honking and the flashing of the headlights stop, and I get a clearer view of the car. The two men share meaningful smiles. It seems that they have shifted their interest from me, who got nothing, to the poor creature inside the posh car who must be absolutely loaded.
“This must be our lucky night, Alex!”
Then the car’s door slams opened.
The smiles on their faces grow wider as they saw a man in an expensive, gray suit. If they call themselves lucky tonight, I think I must be luckier.
Hunter Stone stands right there, impervious to fear. Obviously, it is no accident that he is here tonight. For the past months, he’s been patrolling the neighborhood, hoping he’d run into me. This must be one damn lucky night for the three of us!
Hunter wastes no time. He let loose of his cufflinks, unfastens his silver watch at once, takes out his wallet from his inner pocket, and hurls them all together to the ground.
The sudden movement shut them up. Where on earth can you find anybody who’d surrender his valuables just like that—let alone his expensive stuff?
“Such an airhead!” Alex hisses.
Smith, the long-haired guy, lifts his hand and points the knife at Hunter. He is going to attack Hunter—I am so certain about it.
“Try me.” The words come out of Hunter’s mouth calmly as though he is not afraid of death.
Bang!
I am not sure what exactly happened, but I know I heard a gunshot. When I opened my eyes, I saw Stone holding a gun, freshly fired, with a string of smoke coming out of the hole, aimed toward Smith.
Did he just kill Smith?
Horror replaces fear in my system. I thought I was ready for my own death, but
when I see blood coming out of the poor guy’s flesh, I realize it was good the ripper had been a little considerate with me.
Smith was shot right through his right knee. He is bleeding profusely.
“What did you just do?” Alex cries, bending down to help his friend.
“I told you to take them.” Hunter tilts his head toward his watch and wallet. “You are fortunate I lost grip of my shooting skills. I might need some brushing up.”
“You almost killed me!” Smith wails.
“No one touches my girl.” His gaze shifts from the guys to me.
Chapter 5: Damien
The cops arrive ten minutes after the 9-1-1 did. The paramedics perform first-aid to Smith before they take him and Alex to the police patrol car. I really have to thank the cops for keeping Hunter away from me. They have him circled as though he was part of the criminal gang. However, Hunter manages to still prey on me. Does he think I can’t escape from Paul’s claws, who, by the way, dashes his ass off here after his beloved master called for him?
“You’re lucky Mr. Stone was here to save you, or you could have been disemboweled by those brutes,” Paul murmurs with his back leaning against Hunter’s car. “Your parents wouldn’t want to see your intestines all over Kingsley Park, would they?”
“Why am I still here?” I ask, irritated. I feel like some invisible handcuff links me to Paul. It’s as if I run away, I’ll get my hand amputated.
“Mr. Stone specifically ordered me to look after you.”
“What for?”
“For his interest, of course.”
I let out a laugh.
“I heard that he enjoyed his Caribbean vacation so much. He should have just stayed there.”
Paul grunts with dissatisfaction.
“Mr. Stone came back after a week in the Caribbean to look after his father. It’s not like you do not know about his visits to your parents’ house, right? You were always away… or better yet, hiding.”
“Look, Paul. I have told you many times that I am done with Hunter and the deal.”
“But I am afraid, Ms. Mohr, that for Mr. Stone, the deal is still good.”
“Just let me go, will you?”
Paul crosses his arms and turns to face me. “Not with me around.”
Okay.
I get that Hunter still needs me to play as his girlfriend for the sake of his father’s failing health. I don’t think Hunter or Paul know who I really am or what role I played in the Mayor’s chain of brain strokes. The first was when Hunter broke the news to him that Angel Grant was leaving him. The mayor seemed really upset about Hunter and Angel Grant’s break up. The second incident occurred when he had another stroke—worse than the previous—during his hospital stay. I presume it was caused by Damien’s drastic change. Damien was all over the news for breaking into pubs with his newfound friends, for smoking weed and coke in abandoned apartments, and even for arguing with his mother many times outside the hospital premises.
And the common denominator for all of these is me.
“You okay now, miss?” a female cop asks.
“Yes,” I reply.
I feel Hunter’s hand on my waist.
“Thank you for listening, officer.”
“We will contact you, Mr. Stone, for updates about this case. Right now, take your girl home,” the female cop says after eyeing me. “Don’t let her stray to dark, empty alleys alone.”
“I assure you this won’t happen again.” Stone’s grip on my waist tightens. My entire body tenses up as I smell his scent and feel his skin touch mine.
“I don’t care about your silly love quarrels. Save that for Valentines or break-up season, okay?” She arcs her eyebrows. I wonder what Hunter told this woman to react like this.
Hunter nods.
Right after the police cars and 9-1-1 left, Paul swiftly gets into the driver’s seat, leaving me alone with Hunter outside.
“I’m really tired, Hunter,” I say as I move away from him. It’s not just the physical burn out from tonight’s incident. This night has been a total disaster. My mind, I fear, can’t cope up with the pressure. “I don’t want to discuss with you all over again things you already know. What I want to happen is for you to stop bugging me.”
“I only mean business, Angel.”
“You’re deluding yourself, Hunter. There’s no deal. We called it off six months ago. You promised.”
Doubt breaks the surface of his face. With his thumb, he brushes his chin as though in deep thought.
I expect that this conversation will finally enlighten him. I am honestly tired of hiding from him, watching him do crazy stuff just to get me back.
“With your job at stake, I don’t think you can hold on to that pride of yours any longer.”
“You think I tremble whenever I hear your name, Hunter Stone?”
“I don’t think you do.” He steps in a little closer, his head looking down on me. “That’s exactly why you’re perfect for this. You are the one I need. You’re the only one who can pull this off and fix this mess.”
“Why don’t you just tell them that Angel Grant’s dead?”
“That will be as good as murder. You don’t want this city mayor-less do you, Angel?”
“Then find some other girl who can play this game!” As far as I know, I am not what he thinks I am. I am not fit for this, and curse him for saying I am the only one who can pull such an act. Does he really think I am that good a liar—the best liar he could find, a cold-hearted human who can easily trick people? Curse him for that!
I don’t care that Angel Grant’s turning out to be the mayor’s lifeline. Hunter created her. I am sure he can create another doll.
“I’m not giving up. If there’s one thing I’m sure, Angel…” he pauses, briefly steering his glare to the side then turning it back to me, “it’s that I never lose.”
“Boss?” The glass window slides down, and Paul’s head pop out of the opening. “We’re already ten minutes behind a very important appointment.”
“Can we cancel that, Paul?”
“I’m afraid it took us three weeks to set this appointment with Mr. Dunne.”
Hunter tilts his head and scrunches his forehead, his brows meeting at the center.
“Get in the car!” His hand instantly reaches for the door handle and pulls the door wide open. “I’m taking you home.”
“I can very well find my way back home, Mr. Stone.” I push away his hand even before they touch me.
Hunter heaves a sigh. He sticks his tongue out and briefly licks his parched lower lip. With all the talking he has done for tonight, I’m pretty sure he’s starting to feel dehydrated. He, then, motions forward, and I sense the great need to move a few steps back until I hit the car. Hunter is too quick to corner me with his arms on the car’s door frame. Lowering down himself, so I am literally caged in, his glare intensifies. His is so close to me that any attempt of movement from me might cause me to land onto the backseat or crash my face straight to his. Any of the two isn’t an option for me. I’d rather stick my legs in this position even if my back already hurts.
The warmth of his breath temporarily renders me mute. His voice tickles my ear. “You know what, Angel? If you don’t do what I say, I’ll be forced to resort to desperate measures.”
And what could these desperate measures be? I am too stunned to even blurt out the words.
“I can set aside civility just for me to exercise what I deem will work on you. For your information, Angel, I am equipped with special skills, and I will not hesitate to practice them—right now, just for you to get your fucking senses back and get into the car.” When he breathes the last word, I swear to God I feel the touch of his lips at the back of my ear. I don’t think I need more of his demonstrations because it’s easy to find out what these special skills are.
“I’m not even joking,” he adds, setting both his hands on my waist to pull me up from a not-so-graceful fall. Goodness, I just lost my composure! Had H
unter forgot to catch me, I would have directly slammed to the backseat of his car. I was totally not expecting the kiss even if it was just the tip of the iceberg.
His face lightens up. He is probably enjoying the disaster I have become.
He pulls me up so that I can stand on my feet. I regain my strength seconds later, and I am able to stand on my own, but I can still feel the phantom of his lips lingering at the back of my ear… pulsating and disturbingly warm.
“Will you now get into the car, Ms. Mohr?” he asks nicely.
“Yes,” I said with a dry throat.
“Who was that?” Ray rushes to the foyer to meet me.
I quickly slip the sleeves of Hunter’s coat off my arms.
“Was that Hunter Stone?” he asks, his eyes on the gray business coat.
I nod.
“What happened? You look so…. stiff. Oh, God, your hands are really cold!”
I have been outside for quite too long.
Ray touches my face. “Geez, Angel! Are you running a fever? Your face is so warm and red.”
“I am okay, Ray.”
I hear Shanon Murphy’s voice, so most probably, my parents are still in the living room watching some late night series. It’s almost eleven, and I have to be early tomorrow morning at the Mezzanine. I got lots of work to do.
“But you don’t seem okay.”
I shrug my shoulders and climb up the stairs with Hunter’s coat hanging on my shoulder.
“We just fought. That’s all.”
“Not like that’s something new.” He follows me to my room. When we reach the hallway to my room, he says something that makes me halt. “I thought for a moment it was Damien.”
Yes, it is Damien.
Perhaps, Damien came over to spy on me, and he ran away again because he still holds resentment for me. Add to that my almost rendezvous with death and Hunter Stone’s sudden appearance and stunning showcasing of special skills, rendering me helpless all the while I was in his car.
Hunter reminds me so much of Damien.
For a moment, I thought it was Damien looking down at me. I thought it was him whispering those words. I thought it was him kissing me at the back of my ear. Everything about him reminded me of Damien, except for his eyes. Hunter’s eyes are piercing black. They are void of emotions, so difficult to read, and menacing and scary. Damien’s gray ones, though cold and detached like Hunter’s sometimes, do not give me chills on my spine. They make me feel toasty warm all over like a lit fireplace in winter. I love to stare at them.
