Indulgence (221 page)

“How did you get invited to be part of that?” I asked.

Vincent smirked again. “You know I can’t talk about that.”

“Yeah, but it was worth a try.” I paused, thinking about the
many rumored rules of the island. “So, am I able to get on the island?”

Vincent laughed again, though I didn’t think the question
was funny. “Of course, Allison. You have been fully vetted. They know who you
are. You’re allowed on the island with me.”

The word
vetted
gave me the chills. I couldn’t
imagine who these people were and why they were so secretive or what, exactly,
they knew about me. All would have been good questions, but I didn’t bother
asking any of them because I knew I wouldn’t get any answers.

I looked down at the clock. It was eleven o’clock at night
and we were headed for an island. Car ferries didn’t run to Rattlesnake Island
and it was too chilly for a boat ride, although my hot flesh would probably
enjoy the reprieve.

“So how are we getting over to the island?”

As I asked, Vincent turned off the highway. A street sign
indicated that Erie Island Airport was just five miles away.

“Never mind,” I said. Vincent smiled. We were flying to
Rattlesnake Island.

I’d seen the Lake Erie shoreline from the air before, but
not like this. The black sky wrapped around us and the yellow moon’s hazy light
created a magical feeling. Below, city lights twinkled like light bulbs on a
switchboard. Downtown skyscrapers towered to the east and smoke from a power
plant billowed to the west. And before us was the lake, its gentle ripples
ebbing toward the shoreline. I’d seen snippets of this view from commercial
airliners’ tiny coach windows, but those views paled in comparison to the full
view I had from the cockpit windows of Vincent’s five-seater Maverick jet.

I was initially shocked when Vincent said he was piloting
the plane but felt reassured once he showed me his license. We took off in
silence and didn’t say anything for some time. I was too petrified about
distracting Vincent from flying the plane even though he assured me he had
flown thousands of miles, some even with me, and could handle talking and
flying at the same time. Nevertheless, I opted for silence and his
concentration. The view was enough to captivate me.

“Allison,” Vincent’s voice broke through my headset. I took
my eyes off of the beautiful view only to have it replaced by another, his
face. “Look there,” he said, pointing straight ahead.

Off in the near distance, I could see the outline of an
island bathed in the pale moonlight. It was a black mass planted in the middle
of the shiny lake. A beacon of some sort lit the eastern tip but no other
ground lighting was visible and no other islands were in sight.

“Is that it? Rattlesnake Island?”

“Yes. I’m going to circle it a few times to see if it helps
you remember.”

Vincent maneuvered the plane to the left, headed west, and
then turned back to fly over the island. I stared down and all around but
nothing in the black shadows below was jogging any memories. I looked over at
Vincent, who was staring at me, and shook my head.

“Come here.” Vincent waved me over in his direction and I
leaned as far as the seatbelt would allow. “Do you see that?” His finger made a
circular motion at the western most tip of the island.

“Yeah,” I responded, not exactly sure what I was looking at.

“We’ve hiked there many times on the rocky cliffs.” Vincent
patted my leg with his hand. “Do you remember any of our hikes?”

I strained my eyes, trying to make out the terrain. The
moonlight illuminated some of the rock but also casted long shadows. I could
see some valleys and peaks and noticed that the rock spiraled upwards, giving
the appearance of a rattlesnake’s coiled tail.

“No, I don’t remember our hikes, but I do remember this
view.”

I followed the line of the island down the rocky elevation
and looked east. The land dipped sharply south then gracefully curved north
where it jetted out into the lake, almost like a head. The lit beacon I noticed
earlier sat just north of the edge, illuminated like an eye.

“It sure is aptly named, isn’t it?” I said with a chuckle.

“I figured this view would spark something for you. Now
let’s get you on land and see what else you remember.”

The lights on the landing strip weren’t visible before but
they were now. It was almost as though someone knew we were coming and had
flipped on the light switch. Vincent landed the plane smoothly, and I wouldn’t
have expected anything less. After parking the plane, we made our way to a
storage building and slipped inside in search of Vincent’s car.

The building was long and narrow with a high domed ceiling
lit only with dim security lights. Vincent grabbed my hand and walked
purposely; he seemed to know exactly where he was going. My head turned from
side to side as I looked around at all of the expensive cars parked on either
side of the structure. The catalog of cars was quite impressive; every type of
luxury and sport car imaginable was parked there. Cadillacs, Bentleys,
Lincolns, even a Ferrari. I couldn’t fathom being rich enough to be able to
afford keeping cars like those on the island, and I wondered again who exactly
belonged to this secretive club. Suddenly, something caught my attention out of
the corner of my eye. Tucked away, between a red Audi and silver BMW was a
black Harley Davidson motorcycle. I stopped dead in my tracks.

My sudden stop took Vincent off guard and our hands broke
free. He turned and looked at me, then took a few steps closer.

“What is it, Allison?”

I stared at the bike for a few more seconds before answering
as thoughts and memories raced through my head. The bike looked exactly like
the one Matt had owned; the same one that he was on in the small picture frame
at my house. Before turning my eyes away, I noticed a chrome decal on the side
of the bike. It was a large chrome cap over the air filter, an aftermarket
part, with a skull and crossbones punched into the metal. Matt had had the same
cap on his bike. He had bought it the same day he got the bike because he said
he thought it was cool. I shook my head again.
This is ridiculous
, I
thought to myself. How many other people out there have the same bike, in black
– the most popular color – with the same after market part? I couldn’t let the
sight of this bike, some stranger’s bike, get into my head and ruin my getaway
with Vincent.

“It’s nothing. Let’s go,” I said, and tugged at Vincent’s
hand.

Vincent’s eyes flickered between me and the bike, and for a
split second his clear blue eyes seemed to turn black with a tinge of red. I
wasn’t sure if it was confusion, worry, concern or something else, but I
definitely hadn’t seen it before. It felt like something sinister, almost evil,
had literally clouded over his beautiful blue eyes for the briefest of moments
and then disappeared like the fall clouds floating over the moon. I shook my
head again. The lighting wasn’t good, and I was probably just imagining things.

“Come on,” I said again.

Vincent turned on his heels and walked with a briskness his
stride didn’t have before. I hoped he couldn’t tell that the bike reminded me
of my dead husband. Matt was part of my past, and Vincent had to accept that,
but I didn’t want anything to ruin this trip. Especially after I already
admitted to Vincent that I didn’t remember him or call out for him in the
hospital after my accident.

We climbed into Vincent’s black Mercedes, and by this time I
wasn’t surprised that this was his island ride. After the Agusta, the private
jet, the island and all the other cars I had seen, I would have been foolish to
expect anything different.

The island’s one main road ran down its center through a
thick, dense forest of pines, maples and oaks. The foliage, still holding
strong before giving way to the snow and biting cold of winter, drenched us in
pure blackness, the car’s headlights providing the only light. There were no
visible road signs, street signs or other roads or driveways. I had no idea
where we were going and I didn’t want to ask. Vincent hadn’t said a word since
we left the garage. I wasn’t sure if he was mad at me for my reaction to the
motorcycle or if he was just tired. Vincent slowed the car as if to turn but
where, I wasn’t sure. All I could see were voluminous tree trunks and no road.

“Whoa, where are you going?” I asked. It appeared we were
headed directly towards the thick woods. I didn’t think this car could handle
the rugged terrain and there was no visible sign of any path.

“To the cottage,” Vincent simply replied.

I turned my attention back to the road and couldn’t believe
my eyes. The trees parted like a curtain being drawn at the start of a play,
revealing a dirt path that I hadn’t seen when Vincent had first turned the car.
My jaw dropped as I looked out the rear window. A solid wall of trees stood
behind us.

“Uh -- what just happened?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The trees. Did you see…I mean, I didn’t see this path from
the road.”

“It comes up on you quickly, Allison. You have to pay
attention or you’ll pass it.”

I looked out the rear window again. I had been paying
attention to where Vincent was driving and hadn’t noticed any other roads
including this one. It had appeared out of nowhere. I rubbed my eyes. Trees
couldn’t move like that. I sat back and stared ahead. It had been a really long
day and everything had to be catching up to me. I had obviously just missed
seeing the path.

The path was a long, straight shot that gave way to a small
clearing. Trees and vines littered the property with the exception of the
clearing where the cottage rested. The headlights illuminated the front of the
cottage. It was a one story, gray stone structure with a wooden wraparound
porch. A swing for two and Adirondack chairs sat on the porch with tiny tables,
enough to hold a few drinks. Smoke lazily drifted from the chimney and the lake
could be heard lapping against the shore just beyond the house.

“Look familiar?” Vincent asked as he grabbed my hand to help
me from the car.

“It does,” I responded. “I think I remember this place.” The
cottage appeared in my vision earlier this evening when Vincent first tried to
help me regain my memory.

“Well let’s get you inside and see what else you remember.”

We held hands as we walked up to the dark cottage. Vincent
grabbed his keys and unlocked the door. An entry light came on.

“After you,” he said and waved his arm across the threshold.

As I stepped forward, Vincent swept me off my feet.

“What’s this all about?” I asked.

“I’m carrying you over the threshold. I did this the first
time I brought you here but I’m guessing you don’t remember.”

I stared into Vincent’s eyes as he said this and a memory
slowly popped into my mind. It was of us, in a similar moment as this, but we were
wearing different clothes and my hair was a different cut and color. It was
clearly a different time.

“I actually do remember. It was Christmas when you brought
me here for the first time, right?”

“Yes, Allison. It was Christmas last year.” Vincent set me
down and walked around turning on more lights. “I knew this place would help
your memory.”

I turned to view the rest of the house. The vaulted ceilings
were filled with wood beams that crisscrossed the space. The kitchen, dinette,
and living area were one giant room separated only by furniture and two
bedrooms and a bathroom were off to the side.

Vincent placed a hand on my shoulder, a warm tingling
sensation ran over my body. “Does this look familiar to you?” he whispered in
my ear.

“Yes,” I said with a smile, pleased and relieved more
memories were coming back so quickly.

The memories started to flood my mind again, quickly
flipping from scene to scene.

“We decorated a Christmas tree over there,” I said, pointing
across the room at the long window that framed the lake. “And the hot tub is on
the porch, covered by the awning just out the door and to the left.”

“That’s right. What else?” Vincent encouraged.

“Um, stockings! You had them hung over the fireplace. And
you had mistletoe hanging, well, hanging right here,” I pointed up above me at
the doorway where we were standing.

Vincent chuckled at my last recollection and spun me around.
“And do you remember what I did when you spotted the mistletoe?”

I felt giddy, like a little school girl with her first crush.
I had a pretty good idea what happened and couldn’t wait for the replay.

“I don’t remember,” I coyly replied. “But I have a feeling
you’re going to remind me.”

Vincent smiled and stepped towards me, wrapping his strong
arms around my waist. I could feel the heat of his body against the blazing
temperature of mine. I went weak in the knees with anticipation. Vincent stared
into my eyes, and that crystal blue abyss was something I could get lost in
very easily. The gold flecks were no longer dancing as I thought they had been
earlier; rather, they were perfectly still. “Let’s see if this brings back any
memories,” he whispered.

Vincent pressed his lips to mine. They were scorching hot,
as I imagined mine were too. But they were soft and smooth and perfect, just
like him. The kiss was delicate and sweet; it took everything I could do in my
power not to throw my arms around his neck and throw all of my passion into
this kiss. Vincent pulled his head away and I reached for another kiss but
couldn’t quite reach.

“I take it that sparked a memory,” Vincent stated rather
than asked.

“It sparked something,” I responded.

Suddenly my mind was filled with various memories of the two
of us from the past year. There were scenes of the two of us at my house, the
place we left this evening because I said it didn’t feel like home. I saw
snippets of me in the garden, of Vincent cooking dinner, of the two of us
watching the sunset and even driving around in my Corvette. There were other
visions of us at this cottage. It appeared we frequented Rattlesnake Island and
enjoyed the many perks the exclusive membership offered from private covered
cabanas on the beach in the summer, to full access to a gourmet chef, to
cruising around the lake on Vincent’s boat, to staying up all hours of the
night gazing at the stars and talking. I even had visions of us hiking on the
cliffs we saw earlier this evening and swimming in the lake.