Ella
I twist my ring around my finger, lifting it up to the tip before sliding it back down again as I stare out into the parking lot beside the main entrance. There’s a distinctive nip of autumn in the air as a breeze fragrant with cotton candy and French fries swirls up around me. I pull the Chanel sweater closed and search the rowdy crowd for a face I’ve only ever seen on Tinder.
I love the brisk, fresh air in the fall. It’s such a clear reminder that the long and hazy days of summer are over and the bitter cold days of winter are just ahead. I could do without the winter part, if I’m honest, but autumn has such a nostalgia about it. It just transports your thoughts to other times, other places. Like when my mother was still alive and the world wasn’t so bleak. I can remember her making us natilla on the weekends when we had our huge family dinners. The mixture of all the spices and sweetness wasn’t all that different than the scents whipping around me now.
This ring, with its simple gold band and row of tiny diamonds encrusting it, once rested on her finger. It was her wedding band. I remember admiring it for hours as a young child, asking her tons of questions about their wedding and creating a fairy-tale in my mind. When she was taken from me, my father gave me her ring. He told me that it was always her wish to give it to me one day, although not under such horrific circumstances. My mind slips back to the night I was shipped away.
“Take this, Ella. Your mother, she wanted you to have it.” Tears lined his eyes as he handed me the humble band.
“No, you should keep it,” I argued in hushed whispers. The truth was, even though the ring was tiny, it carried a heavy weight. Knowing that it was on my mother’s hand when she died, it was too much for me.
“Please, Ella.” He looked over his shoulder and pleaded with me urgently. “Someday, when you and I meet again, you can give it back to me, okay? But for now, hold onto it. Keep it close to your heart. One day you’ll be happy you have something that meant so much to her.” He dropped the ring in my palm and shut my fingers tight over it before lifting me into the back of the truck and disappearing into the night.
I found out after I crossed the border that the men who killed my family found my father. They eventually ended his life too, leaving his almost unrecognizable body in the street outside our house like a head on a pike. A grim warning to anyone else who would consider crossing the Úsuga Clan.
The ring has given me a constant connection to my mother over the years. A glimmer of light shines off the modest diamonds. The same ones I stared at as a child on her finger, and feel closer to her. My father was right. I’m happy I have her ring. After I lost everything else, I still have this symbol of love that once lay on her hand.
Blinking away my tears, I tug my phone out of my bag, checking the time again and any missed messages. It’s not that he’s that late. Only ten minutes so far, but I’m already nervous that I’ve made a huge mistake by coming out here. This is so unlike me. In six years, I’ve never snuck around behind Sylvia’s back for anything. I haven’t even snuck any of the good food that she sets aside for her and Raymond in the fridge. I’ve obeyed every rule. I’ve never made a fuss or given her any reason to get rid of me. And now what am I doing? Going out on a date with a man I don’t know in clothes that aren’t mine, pretending to be someone I’m not just by how I’m dressed.
This is a mistake. I should leave.
“Hey, chiquita! Wanna check out my banana?” A young, decent looking man walks up to me with his hand on his crotch. For a brief second I blink and hope I’m not looking at Jackson. From a distance, it’s hard to see the details of his face. Plus, people put up pictures of themselves on the Internet all the time that aren’t exactly accurate. I’m relieved to see it’s not him as he approaches, but I’m so stunned by his blatant rudeness that my cheeks flush and I avert my gaze to the ground, not wanting to say anything to encourage him.
“I bet you’d love to have a big ol’ banana in your mouth, wouldn’t ya?” His breath billows over me and makes my stomach lurch. Clearly he’s been drinking. His eyes are bleary and his words reek of a mixture of alcohols.
“Sir, I’m waiting for my friend.” I try to step back, but I thump into someone and get even more flustered. I turn around and am pressed up tight to a tall, hard-bodied man with gun-metal gray eyes that are intensely staring down the drunken jerk at my back.
It’s Jackson. I’ve never been so happy to see someone and so nervous at the same time. He pulls me into him, wrapping his arm around me and stepping me over to his side. His thick forearm falls so naturally around my waist. Like the curve of my hip was designed just for him.
“I’m sorry, what did you just say to my girl?” He snarls at the drunken idiot like he might just jump on him and tear his throat out with his teeth.
“Hey, man, I, uh, I was just playing.” The walking liquor cabinet holds up his hands like he’s ready to go off with the police peacefully and he slowly steps back away from us.
“Get out of here and don’t let me see you around her again.” Jackson juts out his jaw, narrowing his eyes.
The drunken banana man twists on his heel and takes off. Why are the biggest talkers always the biggest cowards?
Gratitude swells up inside me as my heartbeat thuds out of control in my chest. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“I know that’s not the best way to introduce myself. Sorry about that. I just hate that crap. I was never a big fan of guys like that, but now that I have a daughter, it makes me crazy,” he explains as he drops his arm from my waist.
“Don’t apologize.” I find myself wishing he’d pull me back in close. That he’d keep holding me tight against him, protectively showing the world he’s not afraid to take on anyone to keep me safe.
“I’m Jackson.” His eyes twinkle as he holds out his hand.
“Ella.” I shake it with a smile. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Maybe this is the magical night I’ve been craving for all these years.
9
Jackson
I get lost in the golden warmth of her brown eyes, the gently sun-kissed honey hue of her skin, her long mahogany locks, and her thick, perfect pout. I blink hard and force myself to stop staring, only to realize I’ve been shaking her hand for an uncomfortably long time. I let go and drop mine by my side, nervous and uncertain about my game, like a kid who finally had the training wheels removed from his bike.
“How about we go inside? Do you like going on any of the rides?” I lead her up to the ticket counter and buy us a couple of bracelets.
“I’m not sure.” Her eyebrows scrunch together.
“Haven’t you ever gone to the fair before?” I watch as she fidgets with her ring and looks around at the overwhelming collage of people yelling from game booths. She stares at the flashing lights as adrenaline-fueled screams coming from the rides assault our ears. It’s easy to get intimidated by the bustling crowd that’s buzzing around from spot to spot like bees collecting nectar from the last flowers of the season.
“Uh, me? Yes, yes, of course. Just, um, I haven’t been to one since I was a little kid. Back then I just went on the merry-go-round.” She stands a little taller, throwing back her shoulders.
“Oh, well, normally I love the fast, crazy ones.” I point to a rickety zipper whipping people around inside as blasting music competes with the shrieks inside. “But, maybe we’ll just stick to stuff where we can actually talk. Oh, first, though, how about I win you a prize?”
I scan over the maze of people shuffling around until I see the games where you can win huge stuffed animals for shooting targets. Perfect. This will be an awesome way to break the ice.
“Win me a prize? Sure, I’d love that.” She smiles up at me and it literally takes my breath away.
For a second my lungs burn as I remind myself to breathe and act normal. She’s just simply stunning. Her beauty is so natural. I mean, I don’t know the first thing about makeup, although I’m sure once Chloe hits that age I’ll learn a lot.
However, I can tell when women have bright eyeshadows on or crimson lipstick staining their lips. Not Ella. Her dewy skin almost glows under the bright lights of the fair. Her youthful beauty catches me off guard, leaving me staring at her... again.
“Are we, I mean, did you want to go?” She raises an eyebrow and I make myself look away from her. Enough of this.
“Yes, let’s go.” I hold out my arm and Ella giggles as she loops hers through and I lead her across the fairgrounds.
Strutting up to the target game, I know I’ve got this one in the bag. “Once upon a time I was a Navy SEAL,” I brag as her eyes grow a bit wider. “You just pick out which of the big prizes you want, ’cause I’m gonna destroy this target.” I slide my five bucks across the counter to the attendant. He rolls his eyes at me and hands me a plastic gun like he’s never done anything so boring in his life.
Ella stands to the side, holding her hands over her ears as I take aim at the little bull’s-eye across from me. I lift the ridiculously light gun, take aim, and fire off the rounds in a smooth discharge.
Smirking, I look over at the attendant expectantly. “Just tell him which one you want, Ella.” I nod, but the man behind the counter shakes his head at me slowly.
“Not so fast there, special ops, you only hit the target twice. You have to hit it five times to get one of those guys.” He points a dirty finger up at the human-sized pink bears and giant gorillas holding stuffed hearts.
“What? No way, lemme see that.” I squint at the circles in disbelief. The carny grabs the sheet and tugs it off, handing it to me.
“That’s okay, it’s no big deal.” Ella tries to soothe my wounded ego.
Sure enough, he wasn’t lying. I only managed to fire two holes into the paper target. I hang my head in shame. “These things are rigged,” I mutter as my cheeks blaze bright. “Well, what does two shots win then?” I demand, frowning at the smugness on the carny’s face.
“Anything from the bottom row.” He points to a wasteland of plastic trinkets and junk lining the shelf below the targets.
“I’ll take that one.” Ella points to a pathetic stuffed owl and the man behind the counter grabs it for her.
“Let’s go.” I shake my head. “So much for that.” I laugh at how embarrassingly bad I did. “Maybe I should’ve kept the whole SEAL thing to myself.” I wince.
“Oh, don’t say that. It’s a cute owl. Didn’t you say you have a daughter? You should give it to her. I bet she’d really like it.” Ella holds it out to me and I put my hand over my heart like she just managed to hit five bullets into it.
“What? You don’t want this amazing prize I won you? Wait, did I, uh, mention that I was a SEAL? I mean, are you sure you want to give away something someone with so much specialized training won you?” I joke with her and she laughs.
“Well, when you put it that way… yes.” She giggles and holds it out to me.
“Actually, Chloe will love it, so thank you.” I grab the pink owl and stuff it in my pocket. “How about we hit up the Ferris wheel instead? I think the view will be nice at this time of night. I mean, I probably shouldn’t oversell it after this, but I think it’ll be nice.” I can’t help but get lost in her eyes. They pull me in, making me wish I could know everything about her instantly and completely. She looks young, but she has such a soulful depth to her eyes. Like she’s already lived a few lifetimes.
“I’d love to.” She tilts her head up at me and I have to stop myself from grabbing her in my arms and kissing her. Instead, somehow I step away from the intense magnetic pull I feel toward her and lead her across the fairgrounds, guiding her with my arm wrapped around her waist, and enjoy this moment.
10
Ella
The elderly man running the Ferris wheel double-checks that the bar is locked into place and gives me a wink before pushing a button that makes our seat swing up to the next spot on the wheel. I grip onto the bar tight, not used to the sensation of the rocking seat.
“You’re not afraid of heights, are you?” Jackson peers down at my hands, concern clouding his gray eyes.
“No, no. Nothing like that,” I reassure him. “Ahhh!” I let out a small, involuntary yelp as the seat sails up higher and then comes to an abrupt stop.
“This is all normal.” He slides his arm around my shoulders, the warmth of his body enveloping me as it presses against mi
The faint smell of his musk teases me, making me breathe him in. For a moment, the sway of the seat, the constant background noise of the fair, even the chill of the night, all slip away from us. My gaze drifts down over the trim hairs shadowing his jaw and to his lips. What would it feel like to kiss him? What would it be like to lose myself in him, in his eyes, in his arms, in his bed…
The last thought jerks me back to reality with a blazing heat burning over my cheeks. I flash him a guilty smile, afraid he can somehow read my thoughts.
“Hey.” He tilts his head and tries to capture my gaze again, but I look away.
I play with my ring, tugging it up my finger and pushing it back down as we move up higher in the air. Almost all the seats are full now. It won’t be long until we’re whirling around in the night, side by side.
“What’s going on in that pretty mind? You look like you’re deep in thought.” He pulls me closer into him and I can’t help but inhale him shamelessly into my lungs.
I can’t tell him the racing, dirty thoughts I’m having. I can’t tell him that, although I’ve had them before, I’ve never had the chance to act on any of them. I’ve never even been kissed by a man, let alone claimed by one. Before I left my country, I had been on exactly two dates. One ended with a nervous handshake while my father watched from the front step and one ended with a soft, quick kiss on the lips. I’ve never had one of those passionate kisses you see in movies. I’ve never experienced the tantalizing magic I’ve read about so often in my books.
“I’m just admiring the view.” I nod out to the horizon of twinkling city lights, only half-lying to him.
“So am I,” he answers, never taking his eyes off me. I’m not sure what to say. Luckily, the Ferris wheel lurches into action and the moment passes without me needing to say a word. The lights swirl by us as we slide down the other side of the giant circle, only to begin to climb back up the other side. “Tell me about yourself, Ella. I take it you’re not from here, right?”
His question makes me sit a little taller and tug on my ring faster than before.
“Why do you say that?” I try not to sound defensive or frightened. Have I done something or said something that makes him think I’m an illegal? My mind races with worst-case scenarios and threats I’ve been hearing from Sylvia for years now.
“You have a slight accent,” he explains, watching my face closely.
“Ah, yes.” I force a tight-lipped smile. “You’re right. I was born in Colombia.” My heart beats fast as I try to think of how to change the subject. “How about you? You mentioned you have a little girl. How old is she?” The stress is making my voice come out a little higher than normal. I hold my breath and hope he will move on from his questions.
“Chloe, yeah, she’s my world.”
I breathe a sigh of relief as he moves on.
“She’s four and she is a handful.” He looks out at the view below us as we crest the top of the wheel.
“It’s unusual for a father to have custody, isn’t it?” I can tell that my question has made him just as uncomfortable as the ones he was asking me. I wish I could take it back immediately. I’m only trying to make conversation, but the pain that just flashed over his face tells me I’ve struck a nerve.
“It is,” he answers simply. “Her mother died in a car accident just over a year ago. It was complicated, but I have full custody now.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Don’t be. We hadn’t known each other for a long time before that. It was an awful loss for Chloe, but I like to think that we’ve helped each other through.”
“She’s lucky to have you.” I place my hand over the one he has resting on the bar. The lights swirl around us like a Van Gogh painting. Everything about this moment is surreal and beautiful.
“I’m the lucky one,” he murmurs, looking down at my lips with hunger in his eyes.
The desire to kiss him is bubbling right beneath the surface. I want to surrender to him, to have his lips pressed into mine, his tongue exploring my mouth. My nipples pebble and I lean into Jackson. His head hovers over me, his mouth getting closer and closer. His scent intoxicates me, getting me drunk on his manly musk.
Ka-chunk!
I don’t mean to scream, but the Ferris wheel comes to a grinding halt. Literally. It sounded like some kind of gear ground together and our chair is wildly flailing about just as we were starting to come down the other side.
“Shhh, it’s okay.” Jackson pulls me into his chest and I try to get my breathing under control.
“It didn’t sound okay.” I notice the man running the ride frowning and pushing some buttons. “Oh no, it’s stuck.” Panic rises up inside me.
“It’ll be fine, I promise.” He runs his hand over my hair and my heartbeat begins to slow. I snuggle against his chest, listening to the music of his heart singing a melody just for me. It’s soothing, being in his strong arms, surrounded by bright lights. It’s all like a dream.
Cree-unck!
The Ferris wheel starts back up again, slowly edging us back down toward the ground. The attendant lets people off the ride, loudly informing them that it’s shut down for the rest of the night. Before I know it, our seat has reached the bottom and he’s sending us on our way. My enchanting moment with Jackson has passed, but the night is still young. As we walk out from the barrier surrounding the wheel, I hear a song that puts a smile on my face and a bounce in my step.
“Do you hear that?” I grin up at Jackson, the music overwhelming me. “It’s ‘Despacito.’”
TinderElla: Page 5
