Delusive (6 page)

The obvious answer was yes.

He held up a finger to me, warning me to stay still while forewarning me he was going to touch me. He reached up to finger my hair and pulled a stray piece of dry grass from it. He showed it to me, successfully making me feel worse than I already did.

“I’m sorry,” I nearly whispered, dropping my chin to my chest. I eyed the ground beneath my feet, feeling completely idiotic for overreacting. “This was really sweet. I’m sorry I ruined it. But, you’ve read this whole thing wrong, and I guess I have, too.”

His elongated moments of stillness made me look up at him. He quirked a brow, tilting his head slightly to his right. “And how have I read the situation?”

I tried to mentally remove myself from the place he threw me into. It was unfamiliar territory. I didn’t do well with the unfamiliar. “If I was another woman, I would’ve kissed you even if you didn’t want to kiss me.” I slapped my hand to my forehead, shaking my head, “Fuck, that sounds worse.” I looked at my watch, continuing the game of disinterest, because I had to in order to save face.
 

I couldn’t deny that although I turned down the kiss that never was, knowing it was never his intent left me slightly bereft of my once tightly held confidence.
 

There was an even bigger issue with what I fought tooth and nail to deny: I had begun to like him. I wasn’t supposed to feel anything for a tool. He was meant to be used and discarded when I achieved what I wanted. Feelings obscured one’s focus and had no place in my current situation.
 

“Thank you for everything, but can you please do what you promised you would?”

Sighing, he removed a hand from his pocket and reached behind his head to rub the back of his neck. “Yes, Hanley, I will do what I promised I would.”

AT THE ENTRANCE to the driveway, I looked over at Elias while his car remained idle. He appeared deep in thought over the unspoken. When I moved to open the door, he effortlessly reached over to the driver’s side panel and activated the locking mechanism.

“I’m”—his eyes found their way to my face—“having a company party at the Design Center in a few weeks. I’d like you to come.”

“I’ll probably have to work.”

“You receive your schedule this far in advance?” He raised both brows in disbelief. “Even if that were true, do you really have to work all night? The mall closes at nine-thirty.”

“I get off at ten,” I explained. “If today set a precedence, it usually takes thirty minutes to close the store.” I surveyed the house to check if my father was awake and watching from one of the windows. “Why can’t you let this go, Elias?”

He reached across the center console and grabbed my hand. “I’ve never done anything I would regret later. If I give up on getting to know you, I will.”

“One look, and you just had to have me?” I laughed softly at how ridiculous it sounded.

“Come to the event. Stay for thirty minutes. If you find you’re not having fun, you’re more than welcome to leave.” He licked his lips, drawing my attention to his mouth. “I need to see you again.”

I tried to approach the situation with him logically. For some reason or another, rationality relented for spontaneity and intrigue.
 

His eyes began to plea with me, and I completely melted. “Okay.”

With his brightened smile, he unlocked the car door. Like a chivalrous man on his first date, he walked me to the front door. We said our goodbyes, and he kissed my cheek before he left. The gesture threw me further from the idea of figuring out the man behind the persona.

My father was seated on the couch in the living room, near the window, facing the street. A bottle of beer was clutched between both hands. From his twisted position, with his right ankle resting across his left thigh, he had a clear view of Elias and me when we interacted outside.
 

“Was everything all right?”

I shuffled my sore feet across the floor as I headed toward my bedroom at the back of the house. “My car broke down. I had to get a ride from someone.”

“Someone?”

“Elias Cari.”

He slowly smiled, aware of the surname we both knew very well and extended his hand to me. “It’s going to be okay finally, isn’t it?”

“It is, Dad. Finally.” I lied to my father on this rare occasion. It wasn’t going to be fine, because in the short time I had known him, Elias was close to cementing my inability to control my reactions to him. If it continued, I couldn’t be the complicit person I needed to be to carry out my father’s wishes and get things done.
 

“You look like something is on your mind. I’ve got time. Tell me all about how it went.”

“I’m really tired, Dad.” I gave him a smile I hoped would be read as inscrutable.
 

He dropped his hand from its position of remaining extended into the air.
 

We’d never had any semblance of a relationship where I shared intimate details of my life with him. After a certain point—namely puberty—we
never
talked about what was going on in my life. The only thing he ever discussed with me pertained to his constant need to live in the past. He either talked about my mother and the way things were between them, or in later times, we discussed our plans for retribution.
 

“Another time?”

“Sure.” His smile faded, stressing his disappointment. “Get some sleep.”

After swooping into the living room to give him a kiss on the forehead, I went down the hall to my bedroom. When I closed the door, I touched my cheek, feeling the latent tingle left there by Elias’s lips. Gazing across the bedroom, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror above the dresser. I fingered my grin and tried to temper it.

It was of no use.

THREE

THE FOLLOWING MONDAY—THE day after my impromptu trip to the field with Elias—I called a local mechanic and had my car towed from the restaurant parking lot to a repair shop. Despite hounding them over the phone about the progress for two weeks, they hadn't yet started repair work on my car.
 

Skylar and I had the same early shift at La Dentelle that day, and for that reason, she kindly volunteered to take me to the repair shop before we opened the store so I could find out exactly what was hindering the mechanic from fixing the car.

“The car is going to need a electrical system,” the owner of the repair shop, which happened to be located a block away from the mall, told me. “I can cut you a deal on the labor. It will cost you about twelve hundred.”

Gasping, I brought my hand across my mouth. “That’s the price I paid for the car.” I dropped my hand, allowing it to rest on the weathered wood counter. “How can this happen? It was perfectly fine before.”

The mechanic—Bob, from the name on his uniform—offered me not a single stitch of sympathy as he sneered at me. “Well, you’ll find a way to make this work if you need to get from point A to point B. Or…you could borrow someone’s car.”

“My father needs his car,” I explained. “I wouldn’t leave him stranded. I can’t drive…”
the other car in the driveway.
I couldn’t stand being inside it for more than thirty seconds without reliving the loss. It smelled like her. It felt like her. It reminded me of the times she took me on the open road and went faster than she’d promised my father she would go. She was a free spirit and I loved her for that. I forgave her when she abandoned me to chase her racing career.

The car was the white elephant in our lives. Neither my father nor I could stomach getting rid of or utilizing it. It went everywhere we went, like a ghost haunting us with memories and afflicting us.

The mechanic shrugged off my sob story. “Well, what do you want me to do?” He thumbed the corner of the yellow estimation sheet and ran his finger underneath the print detailing my address.
 

My father claimed he had spent the last of his money toward moving expenses. The purchase of our new identities and wiping away the past was paid for with my savings. We had nothing left beyond each other. The town was supposed to be our final destination—the place where we would obtain what was owed to us. We hoped that once we succeeded, we’d no longer have to live hand to mouth while living in places we couldn’t really afford.
 

“Figure something out,” he snarled, leaning against the counter while he boldly leered at my breasts. “I have other clients to get to. Shit, it’s not like you don’t have the money.”

I glanced around the quaint repair shop. It was empty save for the three of us. “I have a quarter of it,” I said, thinking out loud.

He perused over what I had decided to wear for the day: black patterned tights, jade stilettos, and a mid-thigh length belted black chiffon tunic dress. “You look like you wouldn’t have a problem paying for it.”

Skylar gasped and bolted up from the plastic chair in the customer waiting area. “How dare you, you worthless slime. What? Do you think she’ll suck you off in the back room for payment?” Bending over the counter, she pointed a finger in his face. “You disgusting slimeball! She’s not like me. I’m me, and even being me, I would never suck you off for payment because you’re an asshole.”

I grasped Skylar’s arm, stopping her from crawling over the counter and wringing the guy’s neck.
 

He wiped the back of his hand on his light blue work-shirt. “Priorities. Get some. Do you want your car fixed or not?”

“Not by you,” Skylar spat him, struggling against my need to pull her toward the exit.

“Good luck getting it out of the shop,” he yelled at our backs. “My truck guy won’t move a finger to help you ungrateful cunts.”

I enacted a stronger hold on Skylar’s arm and lured her completely out of the shop.

“Don’t worry about that useless asshat,” she snarled, glaring back at the guy in the shop. “If I have to take you to work every day, I will.”

“We don’t always work the same shifts,” I reminded her. She’d been transporting me to and from work for the last two weeks, and it was becoming an inconvenience for the both of us.
 

“You have three other cars in the driveway.” She tripped on a loose piece of gravel and cursed. “Why don’t you borrow one?”

“There are only two, and it’s the principle.”
 

“Principle of what?” she snorted. “You’re so weird, Hanley. I knew there was a reason why I liked you right away.” She linked her arm in mine and walked alongside me back to her car. “Let’s just get to work before Claudia gets pissed at me for failing to open on time for the fourth time this month.”

When we arrived at our storefront, there was a bundle of ipomoea flowers tied to the metal handle of the glass door.
 

“Aw, which one of my boy-toys sent me flowers?” Skylar picked up the bouquet, fingering the delicate petals with her fingertips.

The flowers looked like the ones Elias had shown me. I could’ve been wrong in thinking they from him and for me, but I didn’t know of too many florist shops who would send such rare flowers.

Over the course of the past two weeks, I hadn’t heard from or seen Elias. I figured he had given up, or decided to give me space. It was odd to have barely met him and have him cross my mind as much as he did. He made an impression on me which couldn’t be denied.

Skylar frowned and shoved them toward me. “They’re for you. I told you. He’s not going to give up on you until you fuck him.”
 

Fingering the flowers, I searched for the note she must’ve found. If there was one, it was gone. “I’m not completely convinced he’s like that.”
 

She turned the key in the door to unlock it. As she propped them both open, she pointed to my face “I’ve seen so many girls have that same look, think they’re different, and then nurse their broken hearts in five months or less. You do not have a magical vagina that will turn Elias Cari into something other than a douche. No woman does.”

Smiling while looking at the flowers, I walked inside the store with her.
 

Across the threshold, I pushed a few of the wheeled display racks closer to the front, spacing them in a perfect way to draw the eye of potential customers.

At the counter, I brought the flowers to my nose and inhaled. Something caught my eye in the trash can underneath the counter. Pieces of a notecard were easily seen thanks to the huge air bubble that brought the bottom of the trash liner to the surface. The notecard was torn to pieces and thrown haphazardly inside the bin. It was suspicious, because we always took out the trash at closing. Only one person could’ve done it. I had the answer to what happened to the note that came with the flowers.
 

“Did you fuck Elias, Skylar?” I asked casually.

While trying to make her way to the computer on the cashiers’ desk, she tripped over her feet.

Walking over to the freestanding wall that ran the length of the desk, I fiddled with the control panel until I’d successfully turned on the lights and the music.
 

Turning toward her, I waited for an answer.

“Nope.” During her quick response, she kept her eye trained to the computer screen.

I grabbed a bottle half full of water from the ones stashed behind the counter and cut into it with the switch blade I retrieved from my purse.