by Jacki Renée
Throughout the night we’re introduced to different business associates. Bryan keeps his hand near the small of my back without touching me. I excuse myself after a few minutes of polite conversation.
If I played mind games, I would flirt with other men to prove I am not, nor will I ever be his girl. But I learned a long time ago how to choose my battles. Tonight I choose not to fight with Bryan. Instead, I plot my retreat to win the war. So for now, I’ll play the role of arm-candy. Tomorrow, Kourtney and I will be ghosts.
Bryan and his friends take turns dancing with the girls. Kourtney shies away from Vin and I don’t encourage her to interact with him. She lights up when she’s dancing with Bryan.
I dance one song with Ignacio. He is the only one of Bryan’s friends I can handle tonight.
Max cuts in the second the song ends.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” he asks.
The music starts and we move side to side on the semi-full dance floor.
“I’m fine, Max.” I stare at his bright orange bowtie.
He stops moving and waits until I look up.
“I know a bad example of a contour face and a beat face. Something’s up, Danikins. When you’re ready to talk, call me.”
Tears pool in my eyes. I blink them away. “Thanks, Maxie.”
I rest my head on his shoulder, letting him twirl me around the dance floor. In the middle of the second song, he dips me, trying to coax a reaction. My soul is too sad to give anything more than a fake smile and forced laughter. He knows I’m not being genuine.
When the song ends I make a beeline for the bar, ordering an Electric Lemonade. A blue drink for my blue mood. I’ve been wasted once in my life. Tonight there’s a good possibility it will happen again.
I gulp the first drink and get the bartender’s attention. I put a hefty tip in the jar. She adds an extra splash of light rum in the second drink. I guzzle that one down in less than a minute. An instant buzz filters through my brain, easing some of the tension. The next one I promise I’ll sip and enjoy. The first two didn’t settle on my taste buds long enough for me to say I like the drink.
As I motion for the bartender, I spot Bryan heading my way.
I’ve avoided being alone with him all evening and he’s not coming with the intentions of introducing me to another business associate. The girls aren’t with him. I turn away from the bar.
“May I have this dance?” Anthony steps in front of me.
I glance back at Bryan. His mouth turns down in a frown, eyes squinting.
I see why some women like playing mind games. It gives them power, and right now, I have the power to ruin the night for him, but at the expense of his friendship with Anthony. Mind games are for Horny Toads. I’m twenty-seven. An adult. I don’t need negative attention.
“No thank you, Anthony.” I walk around him and search for Kourtney and Emma.
I find them dancing with Ignacio. Emma reaches for my hand and we form a quartet dance circle.
Around eleven thirty, Emma yawns first, then Kourtney. I use that as an excuse to leave the party. I wait for them to say good night before taking their hands. We retrieve our coats. I know Bryan is watching me. I sense it. The girls and I leave the gazebo.
Walking up the path toward the house, Kourtney and Emma rub their sleepy eyes. The air is crisp and chilly. We’re the only ones outside.
If I hadn’t had those two drinks and that glass of wine, Kourtney and I could leave tonight. She’s more agreeable when she’s sleepy and I could have convinced her to let me off the hook with the promise.
Out of nowhere, a raven-haired woman steps in front of us.
“Hello.”
“Hello,” I mimic.
“Bryan puts on a great party, wouldn’t you agree?”
Where is she going with this?
“How long have you been with him?” she asks.
Uneasiness chills me. I try to step around her, but she blocks me.
“Where are you going, Dani?”
I freeze.
She opens her coat, showing me the gun in her hand. I recognize that shiny dress. She’s the one Bryan was talking to when the girls and I walked into the party.
I pull Kourtney and Emma behind me. “What would you like to talk about?” The alcohol in my system is preventing me from coming up with a plan of action. I’m always clearheaded when I’m in protective mode. Just another example of the bad decisions I’ve made since he came into my life.
She smiles. “How about we start with your boyfriend?”
Is she one of his no-strings-attached relationships that ended too quickly for her tastes?
I have to get the girls to safety.
“Since you want to talk about Bryan, it’s only fair that he’s in on this conversation too.” I turn to Kourtney and Emma, not giving the woman a chance to interrupt. “Girls, run and tell Bryan...” I glance back at her, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“Kimberly.”
She’s Kimberly?
No time, Danielle, focus.
“Run and tell Bryan Kimberly wants to have a discussion with him.”
I push them in the direction of the gazebo.
“Run.” I watch them scurry off, wondering if I can kickbox in this dress, these heels and buzzed. I plant my feet, ready to test my abilities. I grip my gown... Pain shoots from between my shoulder blades up the back of my neck. My vision blurs and I’m falling forward.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
My wrists and ankles are immobile. I’m lying on my back, spread-eagle, and it’s chilly in here. There’s an old musty scent in the air, like the room sat closed-up for a while. I keep my eyes closed and listen. An airplane flies overhead and crickets sing to one another.
“Bryan is a master.”
I don’t recognize this female’s voice. She’s Russian.
“He knows how to get exactly what he wants. And how to get what he needs.”
She’s somewhere near my feet. I open my eyes, blinking until they focus. Particles of dust float in the single bright lightbulb hanging overhead.
My gown does little to give me warmth. Rope has me tied down to a table. The room is in shadows. I refuse to panic.
Kimberly saunters into my line of sight, gun in hand, the raven hair replaced by a long auburn ponytail. The silver dress gone, in its place a long-sleeved black sweater and dark blue jeans.
“I’m not with Bryan.” I keep my eyes on her, not the gun.
“Of course you are. He just hasn’t fucked you into submission, then interrogated you.”
“Why would he interrogate me?”
“Isn’t he the best fuck you’ve ever had?” She walks around the table. My eyes follow her. “He’s the best I’ve ever had,” she chuckles. “I can see why Amelia fell in love with him. He knows his way around a woman’s body. That’s how he gets us to reveal our secrets. But once he gets what he needs, he moves on to the next.”
“If this is about him, what do you want from me?”
“Bryan has something we need.”
“I don’t get why I’m here.”
I lose sight of her as she walks behind the table.
“Let’s just call you an incentive for him to give me what I came for.”
“I’m nothing to Bryan.”
“I’ve watched him with you. He’s emotionally attached to you. You’re nothing like Amelia. She was stupid.”
“Who’s Amelia?” I ask, the cold air making me shiver.
“Bryan used her like he’s using you. He’s the reason she killed herself. Bryan wants something from you, Dani. He’s...”
The room goes black.
Voices all around me shout.
Quick flashes of fire from gunshots.
The rope around my ankles and wrists comes undone. I’m pulled off the table, onto the cold cement floor.
“Put this on,” Bryan whispers in my ear.
My arms slide through sleeves and I’m instantly warm. His scent makes me exhale. I try to
stand, but I’m pulled back down to the floor.
“Stay down,” he commands.
Something thumps behind me and rapid gunshots go off beside me. I jump and cover my ears. Frightened.
“I’m hit!”
I know that Italian accent.
Medical training takes over. My fingertips search the floor around me until I find him. I roll up the jacket sleeves and my hands roam over him finding the wet spot. I apply pressure.
“Hold your fire!”
I recognize that voice too. Anthony.
As sudden as it started, the gunfire stops. Three flashlights turn on. My eyes try to adjust to the limited light.
The three men remove what look like sunglasses from their eyes; they’re still dressed in tuxedos. My hands are pressing into Vin’s shoulder, his eyes are closed, but the rise and fall of his chest assures me he’s alive. His sunglasses are pushed back on his forehead.
“Stay awake, you ogre.” Who got shot while rescuing me. They all came to my rescue, again.
“I think you mean big tank,” he chuckles.
“Now you’re pushing it.” I laugh with him, and tears trail down my cheeks.
“Dani, do not move your hands,” Ignacio commands. “Bry, is the room secured? I need to check Vin.”
“Dani, are you okay?” Vin asks.
I nod.
“Did she hurt you?” Vin asks.
I shake my head. He’s genuinely concerned about my well-being.
“Left flank clear,” Anthony says from somewhere near the left side of the room.
“The room is secured,” Bryan replies from the right side of the room.
Ignacio holds the small flashlight between his teeth and pulls gloves and bandages out of a pack around his waist. He walks toward us. “Dani, on three, move your hands.” He drops to his knees near Vin’s head. “One. Two. Three.”
I raise my hands, and Ignacio presses down on Vin’s shoulder with one hand while the other moves over his body.
I try to stand, but the room spins.
“Hey, Bry! Dani don’t look too good.” Vin’s voice sounds distorted.
I feel my body slumping to the floor.
***
The comfortable firmness and familiar scent makes me feel secure as I open my eyes. I’m in Bryan’s bed. He’s standing at the closed glass doors. Shirtless. One hand in his pocket. An amber-colored drink in the other. The flames in the fireplace make the hawk tattoo on his back look like it’s flying.
The lamp on his nightstand is on.
“How’s Vin?” I sit up and scoot to the edge of the bed. I’m still wearing his tuxedo jacket. Vin’s blood has been cleaned off my hands.
“He’s fine. Ig patched him up.” He drains the glass.
“What about Kimberly?”
“She’s been detained.”
“What do you want from me?”
Bryan turns to face me. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Kimberly said you want something from me.”
He shakes his head.
“What does she want from you?”
“She’s blackmailing one of my clients with sexually explicit photos. Someone stole them. She thinks it was me.”
“Who’s Amelia?”
Bryan crosses the room to sit at the foot of the bed. He turns so he’s slightly facing me.
“Amelia is Emm’s biological mother.”
My eyebrow arches.
“The guys and I were sitting around after a party one night. I asked if they wanted to make extra money working for me. They thought I was joking because we were pretty wasted. The next day, I showed them my business records. I’d started an escort business and needed help. My clientele was growing and my escorts were traveling the world.”
Is he serious?
“A Prime Minister called, offering ten grand to train his young mistress. He’d heard that I trained the girls who worked for me. I told him no. He doubled his offer. I accepted and he sent Kimberly to Colorado. The guys looked after the business while I taught Kimberly how to... please a man in bed.”
He’s lying.
“A few years later, Kimberly asked if I could help her friend who needed money to finish school here in the States. Amelia had little sex experience. She picked up quickly and I liked hanging out with her. But she mistook sex for love and friendship for a relationship. She got pregnant on purpose, thinking she could force me into marriage. I told her I’d take care of my child, but I wasn’t interested in a relationship. Emma was a week old when Amelia dropped her off to me, then killed herself. I closed the escort business and opened Hawkeye Close Personal Protection.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about Amelia?”
“What was I supposed to say? My daughter’s mother killed herself because I didn’t want to be with her? Would you have wanted anything to do with me if I said that?”
I stand and walk to the bedroom’s double doors.
“I would never intentionally hurt you. This morning I was frustrated. I handled you instead of the situation. I was wrong.” His tone expresses remorse and something else I can’t identify.
I face him.
“I promised the girls we’d be here through the holidays. It’s the least we can do for them after everything else. I want you to stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours while we’re here. The beginning of the new year, Kourtney and I are gone from your life. For good.”
I close the doors behind me.
***
I’m being chased through the woods by a pack of dogs I can’t see. Every time I look back all I see is darkness. Their growls and barks haunt me. I know the dogs are there and they’re closing in.
Up ahead a debilitated wooden shed stands lonely in a moonlit clearing. My legs pump faster. I get inside and slam the door.
Thump!
The dogs bang into the side of the shed, making it shake, and pieces of the rotten wood ceiling and dust rain down on me.
Inside are three more doors. No windows.
Outside, the dogs growl and bark and howl, clawing and tearing at the wood.
I stare at the three doors and choose one.
Behind the first door is the living room of my first apartment in Arizona, before I moved in with James. The Hawaiian flower scent welcomes me. I kept potpourri burners around the apartment. The sweet scent masked the stench of fish and old socks coming from the apartment next door.
Music from a CD James made me in high school is blasting on the stereo. I step into the room to turn down the volume—and freeze. James sits on the brown loveseat still in the Army dress uniform he wore for our wedding. On the floor in front of him, a naked auburn-haired woman on her hands and knees, her lips wrapped around his penis. An identical James, in an Army combat uniform, thrusts in and out of her from behind. Another woman lies sleeping on the sofa. I can’t see her face, but I know her. Hurt and anger fill me. I run back through the door, into the old shed.
The dogs made small holes in the wood; I can see their eyes and teeth. There are four of them. Blue eyes. Brown eyes. Chocolate eyes. Hazel eyes.
I open another door.
I’m in a war-torn neighborhood surrounded in chaos. Black smoke clouds the sky.
Turned over cars on fire.
Homes shattered.
Children crying.
Women mourning.
Men bleeding.
The chemical scent in the air burns my nose and makes my eyes water.
Somewhere in the distance, I hear a comforting rhythmic clicking and words spoken in an unfamiliar dialect while soldiers of all hues march through the debris-littered streets. Frightened citizens scurry out of their way.
Four bullet-riddled bodies lie in the middle of the street. I know these men and I run to help them. One by one, I turn them over.
Anthony.
Ignacio.
Vin.
Bryan.
A shadowed figure moves toward me, beckoning me. With a wooden knitting needle, she po
ints to something in my hand.
I look down.
Bryan’s gun. I’m holding Bryan’s recently fired gun.
Guilt spreads like an out-of-control wildfire through my heart. I drop the gun as I back away. Turning, I run, the shadowed figure following me. The door slams in its face.
The dogs are almost inside the shed. The holes are large enough for their heads to poke through. The four dogs bare their sharp white teeth. Foam drips from their mouths.
I reach for the knob of the third door.
I step into the darkness expecting to be cold. The warmth is comforting. Inviting. Safe.
I turn in a circle. All I see is darkness, yet I’m not afraid. Three-year-old Kourtney, in pajamas and holding Mr. Cuddles, stands by my side. She’s crying and reaches for me to pick her up.
The voice of Bryan whispers in my ear. “I’m asking you to trust me.”
I nod.
“When I tell you, run toward the sound of my voice.”
Behind me, I hear the wood of the shed give way.
Bryan yells for me to run. He promises he’ll keep us safe, but I have to trust him and not ask questions.
Something bursts through the door. It’s not the dogs; it’s someone more evil.
I cradle my daughter to my chest and take off.
Bryan tells me not to look back, to run faster.
Behind me, I hear the dogs growling like they’re attacking the dangerous being.
Bryan’s voice guides me through the darkness.
My feet move on the unseen ground. I know we’re secure and he wouldn’t let anything happen to us.
As I get closer, Bryan tells me not to look back, that he will always keep us safe.”
Three-year-old Kourtney slowly grows older, still holding Mr. Cuddles, and cradled in my arms. The call of Bryan’s voice is the driving force that keeps my feet moving through the darkness.
A bright light shines ahead and his outline appears inside it. He’s waiting for us. Arms open. The snow-covered Rocky Mountains in the distance.
I run into his arms.
“I got you,” he whispers. We’re enclosed in his embrace. “My girls are safe now.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The guest room is lavender scented to match the décor. It’s like the other rooms on this side of the house. No floor-to-ceiling glass doors, but there’s a window seat that faces the pond. I’ve been sitting here staring out the window since I woke up from that dream.
