by Jane West
“Thank you. I mean that.” She became a little misty eyed.
“I know you do, and you’re welcome.” I took another sip of my cocoa. “How’s Aidan doing? Any better?”
“He’s sulking.” Apprehension came to mind as I watched her fidget with her hair. Then I realized why.
“You’ve been sleeping with him!” It was apparent, I saw it in her deep brown eyes.
Sally looked down at her cup, and she glanced back at me, embarrassment streaked her face. “He needed someone to comfort him. You were—” Her words became stifled.
Taking a weary breath, I confessed. “I sort of knew it.” I leaned over and squeezed her hand. “Hey, I’m glad he has you. Really!” I smiled.
“You’re not mad?” her eyes had the look of startle.
“No, not at all. Aidan and I are finished.” My lips tugged at the corners, yet not quite a smile.
“Yeah. I’m not sure how long we’ll last. He is a bit of a queen, always demanding.”
“Well, don’t let him boss you around. Stand up to him when he tries.”
Silence was shared between us for a moment while we sipped our drink.
Then Sally cleared her throat. “While it’s been nice staying here, we can’t keep accepting your hospitality. We’re leaving in the morning. Aidan thinks it’s best if he returns to his mansion on the outskirts of town. It once was a plantation over a hundred years ago. It’s been in his family from the beginning.”
“That sounds nice.” I didn’t tell her I’d already known about the mansion.
“He invited me to come with him. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to go.”
“Sally, you’re an adult. If you want to be with him, then you should. In fact, you both have my blessing.”
“Thanks.” She paused. “I do have something to confess. You may get upset at me again?” she began fiddling with her napkin.
“Okay.” My shoulders stiffened.
“Back in high school, I didn’t lie about Aidan asking me to be his date at his Halloween party. He’s a really good liar.” She sighed. “Something else.” She paused. “We were having sex too.” She wrung her hands together, nervously.
I gawked at her, stunned. “Really! He lied to me!”
“Aidan has a way of making you believe anything.”
I didn’t know why it surprised me. “Sal, are you sure you want to stay with this guy?”
She lulled briefly, thinking. “I may not be the brightest, though, I can’t help myself. I love him.” She hid her eyes behind her lashes. “Unfortunately falling in love isn’t necessarily a good thing.” She huffed, downhearted. “His love for me is not reciprocated. He’s not over you yet.”
I flinched. “No, he’s angry at me. Give him time. He’ll come to see what a great gal you are.” I rubbed her upper arm, trying to sooth her. Although, deep down, I hated to admit it to myself, I feared Sally might be right. “You’ll be fine. And if you need a listening ear, I’m only a phone call away.” I smiled, but underneath, I sensed trouble.
“Well,” her brows furrowed, and a look of a jilted lover spurned her face. “Aidan has been making comments about you that gives me pause.”
“What has he been saying?” I’d smelled mayhem.
She opened and clenched her mouth as if the words were fighting against her.
I watched under a careful eye as my suspicion spiked.
“Aidan spoke about,” she swallowed hard, “some kind of supernatural infusion binding you two together.” Sally fidgeted with her cup. “The alcohol was talking, you know.” She glimpsed up at me, eyes sadden, forcing a smile, “he wasn’t making any sense. Anyway, he was bragging about how he had no intentions of freeing you.
“Freeing me?” I froze.
“Yeah. He claimed he has the incantation that can break some spell that keeps you two in bondage together.” She tipped her shoulder. “I’m not sure what that means.”
The shock felt like a child on Christmas getting a pony, but then the parent for some unknown reason decided to take it away. I was mortified. “He can break the infusion!” I whispered, dazed. “Is he awake?”
“Yeah, he’s taking a shower.”
“Sally, I’m sorry, but I have to speak to him now.” I leaped from my chair and rushed to the stairs.
“Uh, he’s in the shower!” she shouted to my backside. I didn’t respond, I had urgent business to settle.
Leaving Sally in my wake, I darted upstairs and coiled the corner to his bedroom. I didn’t bother knocking. I marched right into his room as if I owned the place which I did.
It was perfect timing. Aidan had stepped out of the bathroom as I entered. His head snapped up at me, surprise spattered his face. I reckoned he was expecting Sally. Good! Catching him off guard might work in my favor. Before he could wipe the startled look off his face, I laid into him, firing questions.
“What the hell!” I began to vociferate loudly. “You have the incantation to break our bondage, and yet, you refuse to use it?” My combative eyes narrowed at him as he didn’t shy away with his nudity, all full Monty. Jackass much?
“You are correct. Nor shall I ever. It is our protection.”
“Bullshit” I caterwauled. “The truth is you don’t want to let me go!” Possessive much?
“Believe what you wish. There’s a great deal more at stake here than a little thing such our bondage.” His voice seethe of satire.
“What possibly can be lording over us that can be worse?” I countered.
A flash of humor glinted in his blues. “If we break the connection, it can put a target on your back. Do you want that?”
“The Illuminati?”
“Of course.”
“Who else?”
Aidan fluidly covered himself with a towel as water dripped from his wavy black curls. A little tinge struck and the image of us together that night long ago at the cottage haunted my mind. My checks flushed.
“Otherworldly sorts.” He didn’t elaborate.
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but it’s time that we cut the cord. Bottom line, I want my freedom!” I stood with my arms folded at an impasse.
“Sorry, toots. It’s not going to happen.”
“Aidan, don’t you want to move on? You’d be free to have any woman you want!” I’d hoped reasoning with his selfish side might soften him.
“Sweetheart, I have my freedom. It’s you who is held hostage.”
“Hostage? If I am, so are you!”
There was a sparkle to his glint. “I am never a slave to anyone. You on the other hand will be mine for eternity.”
“Why do you hate me? It’s not me you want. You never have!” then I revealed his deceit. “I know about you and Sally hooking up in Tangi while you were pursuing me?”
The corner of his lip twitched. “Men will be men, Ms. Collins.” His voice was as frosty as the North Pole.
“What did I ever see in you?”
“I gave you a fantasy,” Aidan amused. “Just like most girls, you love make-believe.”
“I never asked for a fantasy. I never asked to be sold. I never asked for anything from you or your family the Illuminati. Whatever your people call yourselves.” My fists white knuckled down at my sides.
He sneered, “That makes two of us. I never wanted this either. I suppose we both have suffered.”
I gasped. “I’m glad you’re leaving my house! The sooner, the better!” I bellowed.
“I couldn’t agree more.” His voice, cold, unmovable.
I spun on my heels headed for the door, my hand on the knob, I stopped and turned, facing his glare. I had one more thing I needed to clear up. I carefully pronounced each word to make sure he understood my full intentions. “I will find a way to break free from this bondage. I will never be your prisoner!” I pivoted on my heels, leaving, but I was halted as laughter wafted over my shoulder.
The cadence in his tone chilled my bones. It came to mind a time when I once loved his laughter, but this
this was far more sinister, a stranger I did not know.
“You won’t break it. A little thing you haven’t considered we both have to agree, and I will never in a thousand years relent.”
“You’re a monster!” I shouted, vehemently.
“Oh, is that all?” he mocked as if he was bursting to tell his secret. “Tell me, do you feel anything at night while alone in bed?” Aidan stomped a crossed the room. In a blink, he was in my face before I had time to react. His teeth gnashing from rage.
WTF? I thought. I held my stare equally, though, I wanted to flee. Rather instead, I planted my feet, firm. I refused to let him intimidate me.
“Say that again?”
“Can you feel me inside you?” his voice was low, deep throaty.
“What the hell are you talking about?” my heart was hammering.
“Do you feel me thrusting inside you?” His blues took on a sultry gaze, though demented. He leaned in whispering in my ear vulgarities things he wanted to do to me. His sexual taste made my skin crawl.
“Shut-up!” I stepped back. The last thing I wanted was to be up in his crawl.
“When I’m sharing my bed with another, you should feel every inch of me.” His breath became labor as if he was becoming aroused. “You will spread your legs for me while I do things to you that will make your dead father roll over in his grave.”
“You’re disgusting!”
“Am I?” His face filled with amusement as he leaned in, forcing me against the wall.
My stomach lurched, and I thought I might lose my entire insides. His crassness broke boundaries.
Then it hit me. “You knew I was with Val that day you nearly busted his door down?” I held my hand to my lips, gasping.
“You’re a smart girl.” His eyes glistened with loathing, but strangely, they didn’t fire up.
“And Sally?”
“What about her?” His face remained cold.
Oh dear lord! “tell me you’re not using her to hurt me?”
Silence hoovered. I got my answer without a single word.
“She deserves better!” I spat.
“Does she?” I perceived his voice as catty.
“Sally deserves better!”
“Sally can leave anytime.” He practically cooed. “You, sweetheart, do not have that luxury.”
I bit my lip, holding back the curses I wanted to hurl at him. “Do you really think holding me to this binding spell is going to make things better between us?”
“Better! I don’t care about better.” He chewed on that last word. “I lost that hope when you didn’t wait for me.”
“Don’t put this blame on me! You listened to your depraved uncle rather than trying to find me.” I panted, my chest heaving.
“My uncle has his flaws, but I trust his word.” Frosty the Smug Man was a bit blind sighted by his uncle. He continued, “I won’t apologize.”
He reached to touch my face, but he stopped. With no warning, he gave way to a curt gasp. By the reflection in his orbed blues, I saw my eyes glowing. Odd, I thought. Why would he become alarmed over the exact ability I’d inherited from him? He was fully aware that our abilities would emerge as we became one.
I stared back at him, momentarily. Suddenly I realized how blessed he’d been, and here he was bellyaching over stupid crap. It struck a chord with me. Then I just said it. “You had the pleasure of spending time with Dawn. Do you know how much I hate you for that?”
“I suppose we can agree on one thing, then.”
There was no question, we couldn’t keep going like this. I took a sharp breath, calming myself. “Do you really want to continue torturing each other?”
He stood there smirking. “Who is doing the torturing? I have exactly what I want your freedom.” He broke out in a wide smile, but it wasn’t an earnest one. It was the smile of a psychopath after a kill.
I stood there as if an ice bucket of water had been poured over me. Shock, stun, rage and pain, coursed through me like a lightning bolt. The Aidan I once knew and loved no longer existed if he ever had.
“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” Leaving it as that, I twirled on my heels and left his room, slamming the door behind me.
I paused momentarily outside his door, glimpsing at my hands. They were shaking, my whole body was shaking. Suddenly my stomach began to roil. Sickness hit, and I darted for the bathroom.
The Unpainted House
A week had past and the house had quiet. It seemed that everyone returned back to their old routines. Finally, I’d found a little peace of mind.
Since our break up, there hasn’t been any word from Val. It was like he’d fallen off the face of the earth. I didn’t call him or visit his bar either. We were over, and I wanted my space. Aidan stayed clear of me too.
I did hear from Sally. Things seemed well according to her. She seemed happy with Aidan. Despite my reservations, I wished her happiness.
For me, I decided to comply with an old woman’s request. I had nothing better to do. I went down to the local supply store and bought ten gallons of paint and supplies. You know—paint brushes, scraper—everything one would need to paint an old house. It’d be a nice project to keep my mind from wondering. So after I loaded down my Mustang, off I went to the countryside.
I didn’t get why the Cajun hadn’t taken care of his grand mères’ house. I assumed he stayed in a drunken stupor a tad too much. How hard would it be to paint a house?
Once I reached the house, I parked and got out. The place was quiet and felt different during the day. Its eeriness didn’t seem that bad. I went to the door to let the lady of the house know what I was doing. The door was closed, and all the lights were out. I knocked several times. Still, it was quiet like as a mouse. After no one came to the door, I assumed no one was home. Maybe she was out making groceries, as folks say around here. The locals had their unique style of lingo.
I decided to go ahead and paint. I didn’t think the Cajun’s grandmother would mind if I helped. I started pulling out the gallons of white paint, the best that money could buy. I laid out all my tools. Then I went to the garage and got the tall ladder. After everything was in order, I climbed to the top and started scraping. I finished one side of the house, and I started painting the cool white over the bare wood.
It was a sultry day. The heat in this neck of the woods could be brutal. Good clothes were out of the question, and heavy clothes were absolute out of the question. Instead, I found my tattered blue jean cutoffs pushed to the back of my closet. I assumed that the fashion guru, Jeffery, had a hand in hiding my favorite shorts. I slipped on a simple white T-shirt. I didn’t bother with a bra, it was too hot. Anyway, what did I care? No one was going to see me. I tied my tee in a knot, hugging my boobs, and I wore a baseball cap to avoid paint in my shoulder-length hair.
I left my car radio on and sang to the hip-hop tunes as I painted, starting from the top and working my way down. This felt great. I missed labored work and helping someone out too. I was happy, the first time in a long while.
I had no idea how much time had passed. I had started early. I was enjoying the solitude, listening to the catchy tunes on my favorite radio station, Q93, when I heard a motorcycle rolling up the dirt drive. When I looked up, my heart dropped, and so did my chin. Damn! What was he doing here?
I stopped what I was doing and froze. I didn’t bother coming down off the ladder. The unexpected visitor had a strange look on his face as he pulled up and got off his bike. He strutted up to the ladder and cupped his hand over his eyes and hollered, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He spoke in his heavy Cajun voice.
“Well, I’m giving an old woman her wishes. You got a problem with that, take it up with her,” I said nonchalantly. I went back to stroking the paint brush.
“You talk to me grand-mère, yes?”
“Yeah! You might not remember because you were shitfaced the other night. She asked me to give you a message. She wanted her house painted white. I fi
gured I didn’t have anything else to do...” I kept painting.
“And you thought you’d do the old woman a favor. Yes?”
“Yes.” I kept painting.
The Cajun scratched his messy hair while it gleamed almost blue in the sunlight. He was just as handsome as I’d recalled—dark tan, broad shoulders, tall, sexy accent too. Stop it! I warned myself. This guy was awful. “Hmm, do you have any more brushes? I can help,” he offered.
I looked surprised. “What, no party to go to?” I smirked.
“If you are going to start with me, you will not like what I do to you, chéri!” He smiled, but it wasn’t a kind one. Nice teeth though.
I stopped. “Cajun, you don’t scare me. I got this, and I still want my damn knives back.”
“You don’t say?”
“I do very much say.” I mocked his accent.
He walked over and grabbed a scraper and started below me at the bottom around the windowsill. I’d forgotten he was below me until he interrupted my humming to the catchy tune on the radio. “So what did my grandmother say to you?”
“It’s personal, if you don’t mind.”
“Did you have a nice chat?”
“Yeah. She even fixed me tea.”
“Did your friend speak to her?”
“No. Nature called him to the bathroom.”
“And you didn’t find this strange?” the Cajun’s voice lined with suspicion.
“No, other than she said Jeffery would be in the bathroom a while.” Now that I thought about it, she did seem to know things. “Your grandmother reminded me of someone I once knew.”
“You don’t say?”
I stopped abruptly and twisted around, looking down at the Cajun. “Why the drill? I had a conversation with a sweet little old lady. Maybe you should talk to her a little more often. She shouldn’t have to ask a complete stranger to get her grandson to paint her house. You should take better care of her than getting drunk and partying all the time. Don’t you have any—”
