by Shayne Ford
Tearing his eyes away from her, he sinks his hands into his pockets and makes a beeline for the elevator.
This time he pulls away for good.
SHADE
A cage is a cage.
Whether it’s made of gold, iron, steel or nothing.
Whatever the shape, or form, or thickness, a cage is a cage.
It’s an end.
It’s death.
The animals know it.
Some people know it.
But many people like them.
That’s why they invented them. They gave them cute names. Security and safety. Protection, or necessity.
And then they put others in them.
People, and animals.
Sometimes they put themselves in them too.
They’ve learned to love them, so much so, they can’t live without them. They make them posh. They make them safe. And sometimes they make them invisible. They make them out of words or compelling ideas.
But in the end, a cage is a cage.
The soul knows it.
The heart knows it.
The animals always know it.
Too bad that people rarely listen to their hearts, and in the end, it doesn’t really matter.
“Why do you hate me, Shade?”
I stretch my legs, fold my arms across my chest, and look out the window. The car moves swiftly with the traffic.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I mutter, not looking at her.
She fidgets in her seat.
“We could’ve done this without the fuss. Why do you have to fight me all the time?” Elia asks.
I shift my eyes to her and study her for a moment as her manicured hand brushes a strand of her hair in its place.
“I don’t fight you. You haven’t seen me fight yet.”
I scoop the pack out of my pocket, pull out a cigarette, slip it between my lips and light it up before I crack a window open, take a drag, and blow the smoke out.
“Your future’s at stake, Shade.”
I take another drag, and breathe out the smoke in a long white stream.
“I fucking doubt it,” I say in a clipped voice.
“How can you say that? Would you rather be poor?”
I pretend that the mockery in her voice doesn’t register with me and make her wait for a few more moments before I continue.
“My future is entirely mine. It’s not going to be a subplot of your life. You’ve shaped my life for the past twenty years, and I’m done with it. Especially after you’ve abandoned me in that fucking school––”
“I haven’t abandoned you,” she cuts me off.
Anger shoots through my blood, making me sear her with my eyes.
“Shut up. You know you did,” I thunder.
She draws her mouth closed, her face bloodless before she shifts in her seat again, her knees perfectly aligned, pointing to me.
“It’s a top private school, Shade,” she argues.
“And it’s in fucking Switzerland.”
“I wish I could’ve had that when I grew up.”
“And that’s precisely what the fucking problem is. It was your fucking dream. As this one is, now. I don’t want to run a fucking corporation. I want to build one from the ground up when the time is right, but I don’t want to slave in one. And you know what pisses me off? I don’t even need to work for you. Your minions can do it.”
“The reason you feel like you don’t need to do it is that we’re fucking rich. That’s why. You’ve never known poverty. You would quickly reconsider it if you knew how poor people live.”
“I know how people live, and I don’t have to be poor to understand. And stop saying that I’m rich. It’s not my fucking money.”
“You have no problem using it.”
“No, I fucking don’t. And you know why? Because I fucking paid for it, every fucking day of my fucking life.”
She waves me off, annoyed.
“Yeah... Whatever... So what’s your dream, Shade?” she scoffs at me.
My jaw clenches as I push back another wave of anger.
“My dream is not your fucking business.”
“Well, if it’s whores, I hope you have a plan in place because none of this money will pay for women.”
A slow smile stretches across my lips.
“Are you fucking threatening me, again? I’ve already told you that I’m all game as long as you ensure my supply. I don’t need to like it, and we don’t need to chat all day about it. I’ll play the part you want me to play as long as you butt out. And for the future, keep Roger out of this. Are we clear?”
“I wouldn't––”
“Keep him out!” I shout, and she shifts her gaze away.
Moments of silence tick by, her eyes following the dance of the lights outside.
“You know what... I could ask you the same thing,” I say after a while. “Why do you hate me, Elia?”
She flicks her head in my direction, her eyes filled with surprise.
“I don’t hate you, Shade.”
“Then why don’t you let me live?” I ask.
She looks at me lost for words before she swings her gaze back to the window.
I put out my cigarette, pop a mint into my mouth, and scoot over to her. Brushing a lock away from her shoulder, I lean toward her and speak with a softer voice.
“I know why you do what you do, Elia. I understand. I know I can’t make you see the things that you don’t want to see. And I know, we’re very much the same. You used to be like me, but you’ve changed, and you’ve lost your soul. The thing is, I still fight for mine. I really don’t hate you. I only hate who you’ve become.”
The car pulls smoothly in front of my building. I pull away from her, grab my jacket and crack the door open.
“I also hate the fact that you let me rot away from you all these years. But that’s fucking life...” I say before I climb out.
6
TARA
Maya’s gone.
She scribbled her mom’s address on a piece of paper and left it on the kitchen table. Matt called, looking for her. Josh called and didn’t leave a message.
Moving slowly, I take off my clothes and walk into the shower. The warm water rolls over my face and body, washing off my smudged mascara while helping me relax.
A few minutes later, I walk out of the bathroom, drying off my hair with a plush towel, feeling a little better.
I slip into a robe and grab my phone before I call Josh.
He answers after the second ring.
“You called.”
“Oh, yes... Tara,” he says in a nervous voice.
My stomach clenches.
I think I know what he is about to tell me, and yet, I can’t push back the odd feeling that’s been coursing through my body since I met Shade this morning.
“I... um…” he starts hesitantly before he clears his throat and continues. “This thing between us is not working anymore. I tried–– I really did, but there’s not much for me in this relationship. You’ve probably noticed too that we’ve been drifting apart for some time now. And I, um... I don’t think we can see each other anymore,” he says before he pauses for dramatic effect.
“Okay,” I deadpan.
He stays quiet for a moment before he speaks again.
“Is everything all right?” he asks.
“Yes. Why?”
“You don’t sound okay.”
“I’m perfectly fine.”
“Okay. If you say so.”
My hand curls into a fist.
“I also think it’s only fair to hear it from me first...” he says and waits a few more moments before he continues. “I’ve been seeing this woman...”
There we go.
“Okay,” I say, not shaken to the core or surprised.
Isn’t that what this was all about after all?
Isn’t that what has prompted his lack of commitment and made him pin all his shit on me so he could justify his actions and feel go
od about himself?
“Listen... you don’t sound like yourself. We can talk some other time,” he says.
“No, Josh, this is as good a time as any,” I say, suppressing the urge to throw the phone against the wall.
“Things were not that good between us lately,” he says.
“I know, but why are you telling me this now?”
“Um, I thought you'd figure things out on your own.”
“What things?”
“I don’t think you realize, but you put a lot of effort and energy into your work and not enough into our relationship. You no longer care for me the way you used to.”
My fist hits the table.
I swallow a scream of frustration and bite my knuckles.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes, Josh. Everything is fine. How did I not care?”
“Your career is all that matters to you. It’s always work, work and more work. You no longer have much time and energy left for me,” he says.
My eyes roll so hard, they could spin out of their sockets.
“You have a job too, Josh.”
“Yeah, but that’s different.”
“How?”
“I don’t know, but it is. And the sex has not been the same. You used to enjoy it more in the past and be available all the time.”
Yeah, he’s right. I used to put more effort in faking it and pretending that I like it.
“And then it became so predictable,” he says.
“You already told me that. But, you know why it was so damn predictable? Because it sucked from the get-go. That’s why.”
“That’s your opinion of course...” he says, irked.
“It is. Sure. Listen... I’d love to chat with you more, but I have to catch up on my sleep and get ready for my work,” I say sarcastically, and before he gets the chance to answer, I end the call.
For a moment I glance at my phone, seriously entertaining the idea of slinging it across the room.
A bulk corporate email arrives in my inbox too, letting everybody know that Shade Hennessy occupies Claire’s office across the hallway until further notice.
In theory–– at least, because I never see him there.
As much as it annoys her, Claire has her people clean up the small space at the end of the corridor, a small desk and her computer waiting for her, propped against a windowless wall.
Other than that, the week passes by uneventfully, and today is the last day of training.
It’s late afternoon when I wrap up the last session, and the door to the amphitheater slides open, Shade Hennessy walking in.
He stops not far from the door, folds his arms across his chest, and lets his eyes skim the audience. My thoughts shatter for a few good moments as I quickly lose track of what I was saying.
I shift my eyes back to the screen, hoping to regain my focus, unable to ignore the heat coming from his stare.
A few more moments tick by as my mind continues to crumble, so I try something different.
I spin around and root my eyes to the audience, struggling to keep my composure as my gaze inevitably slides back to him. His head tilts back as he studies me intently, fueling the panic surging through me.
Within seconds, I start skipping words, losing my train of thought completely.
It goes on like that for a few more moments before I space out, angst growing in my blood.
Just as the rush of adrenaline makes my head spin and my pulse spike, he pushes off the wall, turns his back to the audience––and subsequently me, and strides to the exit door.
“Miss Hart, can I see you in my office?” he says with the voice of someone who is about to fire me.
Claire's eyebrows pinch together in a frown, surprise reading in her eyes.
She jolts out of her paralysis rather quickly before she walks to the front where she steps on the small stage where I stand, and takes over the presentation.
Swiftly, I pull away and follow Shade.
I expect to catch up with him on the corridor, but no such luck.
He rushes ahead of me and vanishes around a corner before I take the first few steps on the hallway.
Silence greets me along with the warm light of the summer afternoon.
I walk past empty cubicles as all the reps and the administrative personnel are in the amphitheater and the conference room, getting trained on selling a new product and using new software respectively.
I pace around the same corner and make a beeline for his office.
The door to his space is wide open. Leaning against his desk, he’s waiting for me.
Hesitantly, I walk in.
He pushes off his desk, shuts the door, locks it, and closes the blinds.
Pulse racing, I blink fast a couple of times, trying to adjust my eyes to the dimness.
“I’m sorry. I’ve never had problems with delivering my presentations,” I mumble, shaken, and confused. “Rest assured that it’s not going to happen again,” I add, grappling with panic.
Silently, he peels his jacket off, throws it on a chair, and saunters to me.
He swings his arm, and with one sweeping motion, he clears Claire’s desk, tossing everything on the floor.
I breathe out a soft gasp when he unexpectedly sweeps me off my feet and sets me on her wooden desk.
Our eyes meet as he inches closer.
His fingers brush my knees, gently nudging them apart before he wedges himself between my legs.
Words freeze on my lips.
He looks at me, a slow grin creasing his lips.
Sneaking in through the blinds, a ray of sunlight sparkles in his eyes.
“Shade?”
“Tara,” he says in a tender voice that I’ve never heard him use with anyone else but me.
His hands rest on my thighs, softly brushing the fabric of my skirt.
He’s waiting. And I know exactly what he’s waiting for.
A pang of fear flows through my bones as sweet tension grows inside me.
“I’m going to lose my job, Shade,” I murmur.
His lips curve into a crooked smile.
“No, you’re not.”
“You are my boss,” I say, having a hard time to tear my eyes away from his lips.
“I like the sound of that, but only when you say it in my bed.”
“I can’t do this.”
“You can do whatever you want to. No one can stop you,” he says as he runs his hands up my thighs, riding up my skirt.
Soft tingles swirl between my legs.
As my skirt goes up, his eyes slide down, a smile crawling to his lips as well.
“Is this how you usually dress for work?” he asks amused.
His eyebrows push up, his eyes glinting with a smile.
Flicking his chin, he motions to my sheer, thigh-high black stockings.
He pulls my skirt up all the way before he slants his gaze to the band of black lace strapped between my legs.
Slowly, he runs his fingers to the apex of my thighs and traces my slit through the sheer fabric of my panties.
Wet arousal damps the fabric underneath his touch.
Biting his lip, he crushes a smile.
“Hmm?” he mutters again.
“No,” I say, barely breathing.
He searches my eyes, his smile slowly withering away.
“He’s gone, isn’t he?” he asks seriously this time as he looks down to my sex again.
“Yes, he is. He’s been gone for some time,” I murmur, anger and resentment lining my voice.
His hand comes to my face.
“It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs against my lips.
My heart spins in my chest.
His fingers slide over my face, his scent and warmth rolling over my body before his lips press against mine, his kiss so soft and tender it makes my heart skip beats.
He tears away.
Grinning, he searches my eyes, waiting for a reaction.
Without a second thought, I c
url my hand around his neck and pull him into me.
This time, his mouth crashes onto mine, his tongue sliding between my lips, his arm coiling around my waist as I wrap my legs around him.
Instantly, we connect. Like then.
Without many words between us or as much as a promise, he’s leading me and feeding me his hunger, his passion flowing through my blood.
His hand slips between my legs before he smoothly tugs the narrow band of lace to the side. Running his fingers down between my folds, he turns my clit into a pulsing frenzy.
“You like it...” he murmurs.
His eyes sparkle, alive, his lips curving into a sizzling smile, an adorable dimple popping at the corner of his mouth.
He looks young and so much different than the person in the boardroom. I tip my head down, nodding wordlessly, before he locks my mouth again, his tongue moving with mine.
A moan falls from my lips as I indulge in his touch.
Without breaking our kiss, he slips his hands inside my jacket, slides it off and drops it on a chair.
With one smooth motion, he pulls my top down and frees my breasts before he quickly works the snaps between my legs open.
His lips roll onto my breasts, showering them with kisses, his tongue sweeping and teasing my nipples as he slowly slips two fingers into me.
I arch and moan, my center throbbing.
“You really like it...” he mutters, his eyes burning with unbridled pleasure.
He moves his fingers slowly, his eyes on me as he gauges my reaction.
Tense, I grab his shoulder.
“Fuck, Shade,” I breathe out, relishing the sensation, sensing how quickly I could come.
“It’s okay, baby,” he says in a soft voice. “Not much has happened to you since last time, huh?”
I nod.
He tenderly cups my face with the other hand.
“I’ll take care of you. All right?”
“Okay.”
He nudges me to lean back.
I lie down and bend my knees as he curls his arms around my thighs, and lowers his head, his mouth sliding between my legs, crashing onto my clit as his tongue and lips press and sweep and kiss, starting a storm between my thighs.
I arch my back and slide my hand into his hair before I close it into a fist.
