CHAPTER 14
We find the lake easily. I follow him in my car. He offered to take me there with his bike, and then back to the car, but I refused. I’m not a fan of bikes. Never have been. Especially not now that they are driving my son. I just can’t trust someone else with my life. Not again.
Wagner gets off his bike, then waits for me to park. He’s so different from Mason. Even more different from Adrian. Mason is your regular playboy. Charming, handsome. He’s got all the moves. I doubt any woman has ever said no to him. He’s the kind of guy painters and sculptors from back in the Renaissance era would fight for, to use him as their muse. And, he’d be happy to oblige.
Adrian is his polar opposite. I wonder when was the last time he was with a woman. He seems clumsy, strange, but so endearing. So sweet. You just want to hug him. Like a big teddy bear, and then tell him all your secrets, because you know he will never ever tell them to another living soul.
But, Wagner… I can’t even place him anywhere between these two. He’s in a league of his own. Mischievous and naughty, but also brave. He doesn’t back down. I can imagine him in a boxing arena, not losing a single fight. He’d end up with a broken nose, but that would be all. I think he’d even look more attractive with a broken nose. That’d give him an edge. Not like he doesn’t have an edge now. But, still.
He looks about the same age as Mason. I’ve heard that shifters’ lives are longer, so he could be almost a 100 and look like he’s 30. That would be a good question to ask. But, we aren’t close. We aren’t close at all. What do we talk about? Suddenly, I’m nervous. And, I don’t even know what to call this. A date? Just one person thanking another for some help? Yes, that should be alright. Anything but a date.
I take a moment or two to get out of the car, not taking my eyes off of him. He’s slightly tanned, his beard is trimmed, and I see tattoos running down his arms. I noticed snakes and skulls when he first stopped to help, and curiosity got the best of me. I have no tattoos of my own, but I’ve always wanted one. Of course, I was always told that I knew what would happen if I change anything on my body, without prior permission. My own body wasn’t my own. Now that it is, I’ll probably go ahead with that tattoo at some point. Maybe when Dominick turns 18. I don’t want to give him wrong ideas before he comes of age. Once he’s old enough, he can make that decision on his own.
“Here we are,” Wagner tells me, spreading his arms in front of him.
He looks huge, like a whole mountain of a man. His ripped body bulges underneath his t-shirt, threatening to tear it at the seams. I wouldn’t mind witnessing that sight. All three of them are in amazingly good shape. But, I guess that comes easy when you take good care of yourself. I’ve only started to do this lately, and it feels wonderful when you can finally focus on yourself a little. That inner glow lights up again and you feel like a new and improved version of yourself.
I walk over to him with my tote bag, and just stand there, allowing the view to wash over me. The little lake is glistening softly, the sun sparkling like a million little diamonds on the placid surface. Several weeping willows enshroud the banks, bending over the water, as if truly weeping for the separation of air and water, and an everlasting desire to come together. There is a sandy part underneath every tree, shady enough to nestle yourself there and just enjoy the view. I had no idea that Swallow Springs had such hidden gems around.
He starts there first, and I follow silently, towards the nearest tree. The birds are chirping somewhere in the distance, and the sounds of the forest soothe us both. I feel like taking off my shoes and entering the water, but I feel too embarrassed to do that. I guess I’m still too hung up on what others will think of me. He sits down underneath the closest tree and takes off his leather jacket, spreading it next to him.
“Here, sit on this.”
I eye him strangely, as if he’s speaking a different language. He has to pat the jacket again for me to finally sit down.
“I wasn’t expecting this from you,” I tell him, putting down my bag and getting the sandwich out.
“Wasn’t expecting what?”
“This gentlemanly gesture.”
“The jacket?” he asks, and I nod. “I may be an asshole most of the time, but there are still some leftovers of my good upbringing.”
I smile to that. I remember Adrian and his story, which explained his eccentric behavior. Anyone who was sold off to the circus was allowed to have a quirk or two. Now, I’m sure that Wagner also probably has something similar lurking in his past. Maybe a tough childhood as well? Family drama? Some betrayal? A broken heart maybe?
But, I won’t ask. Not only is it impolite, but I’m still a little intimidated by him.
I know it’s contradictory. I’m scared, but I agreed to come here with him. Alone. Without anyone around. But, my mind knows the difference. This is not the kind of fear that makes you think someone will hurt you. I know that fear well. It’s an old acquaintance, one that has been trying to become a good friend for years now. But, I won’t allow it. This fear I’m feeling is more intimate. I’m afraid that he might tell me something about himself, something deeply personal, something that will make me think him more a human and less an animal, something that will make me like him more. Then, more and more. And, there will be no end to this.
I can’t let that happen. I can’t care for anyone. I can’t love anyone. It’s too dangerous. My life is still a mess, and even though we’re physically far away from the past that haunts us, it is never too far away in my mind. It’s just one step behind, and that is too close for comfort. I can’t get involved with anyone and put their lives in danger, just like ours are. That would be too selfish.
Trying not to think about the past and just enjoy the present moment, I find the sandwich in my tote bag and I manage to separate it into two unequal parts.
“Here,” I offer him the bigger part. “You’re the man. You need to eat more. Plus, you deserve the bigger piece for helping me out.”
“If you say so,” he smiles, taking the sandwich.
We both start eating in silence. I’m looking at the lake, at the sun’s reflection on its surface, but I know his gaze is fixated on me. I can feel the heat of his gaze on my cheek, but I dare not turn and face him. I pretend I’m focused on my sandwich. It’s less awkward. We finish quickly, and I take out my thermos.
“It’s not that cold yet,” I say, after taking a sip. “We could share it.”
“Not a coffee drinker,” he reminds me.
“I thought every biker drank coffee.”
“That’s beer,” he corrects me, with a smile.
“Well, I don’t have any beer here unfortunately.”
“That’s fine.”
“But, I’d like to treat you to one if you come down by the diner one of these days.”
My own suggestion takes me by surprise. It’s like my heart had its own agenda, and my mouth just followed the orders, without my mind being in on it. I blush slightly, realizing that he’ll probably think I asked him out on a date. And, that’s not what it was. A date, I mean. It’s not a date. No way. He can’t think that. I need to clarify that, and make sure we’re on the same page.
“I’ll do that,” he nods, giving me a mischievous look.
I’m about to clarify that it’s not a date, but nothing along those lines comes out of my mouth. Instead, I just keep smiling this big, stupid smile that seems more appropriate for a school girl in love than a single mom of 32.
“So, you think Dominick will be finished with your wall next weekend?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation revolving around Dominick. It’s safer that way, for everyone.
“Probably,” he nods.
“Good,” I smile.
“Mason found him more work.”
This newfound statement makes me turn to him, with eyes wide open.
“Mason did what?” I repeat, wishing to God that I haven’t heard it right.
“Mason found him more work,” he reiterates, word for word.
“But, why?”
He eyes me strangely, his head tilted a little to the side, like he’s seeing me for the first time.
“Because he likes it there.”
“Who does?”
“Your boy,” he shrugs. “And, we like having him.”
I swallow a little before I speak. Of course Dominick would like them. They’re cool bikers, living the life any rebel teenager would die to live. I’m fully aware of the oxymoron here. But, that’s not the point. The point is that Dominick has managed to find a way to keep going there indefinitely, from the looks of it. To say I don’t like it would be an understatement of the century.
“You don’t like the idea?” Wagner leans back onto his palms, his arms stretched out.
“It’s not that,” I try to weasel my way out of it, without really saying what I mean. “It’s that he’s got school and everything, and we just moved here…”
“That’s only if he keeps his grades good,” his answer surprises me.
“Well, that’s… fine then, I guess….” I cough a little.
“Is it?” he sounds like he’s really wondering. “Because Mason and me, we get the feeling you don’t like us very much.”
“I like Adrian,” I blurt out my answer, and immediately wish that I kept my big mouth shut. But, it’s too late. My answer sends him into a bout of laughter.
“Adrian, huh?” he winks at me. “You’d have to wave a flag at him, stating exactly what you want him to do.”
There is no malice in his voice. Only good old-fashioned amusement. For some reason, I know he means nothing bad by it.
“That’s not nice,” I still frown.
“Adrian would think it’s funny,” he replies, waving his hand dismissively. “And, besides, a good joke is wasted on you women. You always need stuff to be morally right and shit.”
I give him a moment or two to realize what a stupid thing he just said, but instead of apologizing, he just stares into the distance, like some freaking philosopher who just said the smartest thing in the world, but needs to wait a little because no one understands him.
“It’s not my fault I don’t like rude jokes,” I snort, unable to keep my mouth shut and just let it go.
Hearing that, he turns to me. I can feel his stare drilling a hole in my cheek, but I don’t give in. I don’t look at him. That would be the equivalent of me forgiving him for this stupid statement. I keep staring at the same invisible spot in the distance.
“You’re right,” I hear him say. So, I turn to him. “I’ve been hanging out with… women who are very different from you for far too long. I guess I forgot how to act like a gentleman.”
The corner of his lip dances in a charming half-smile. The wind ruffles his hair a little, making him look like a little boy caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing, and now, he was apologizing simply because he got caught.
“Is that your way of apologizing?” I smile, feeling that we’re back on friendly terms again.
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “We good?”
“Yeah, we good,” I nod, laughing.
We spend the rest of the time chatting about unimportant things, but I realize that his presence makes me feel all giddy. There are even a few butterflies that he managed to awake inside of me, as I listen to him talk. He tells me about their adventures, and suddenly, I remember it all. I can’t fall in love with him. I can’t fall in love with any of these three men, even though my heart keeps pushing me back to them. I just can’t. They are criminals. They are shifters. Can I trust such a man? I think not.
“Listen, Wagner…” I start, getting up, and breaking the spell that we both seemed to be under. “This was nice and all, but I’d best head on back.”
“Too bad,” he says. “I was hoping to give you a ride on my bike. There’s an awesome view from up there.” He pauses to point his finger somewhere high up in the air, towards a nearby hill. “The road isn’t bad either. We could be there in 15 minutes.”
“Thanks for the offer,” I shake my head immediately, trying to remain polite, but deep inside detesting the idea. “But, I doubt I’ll ever sit on one of those.” My eyes skip over to his bike, then back at him again.
“Really?” he sounds surprised.
“Uh-huh.”
I look around, making sure I haven’t left any of my stuff behind or any trash.
“Any reason for that?” he asks.
“I’m not a fan of adrenaline rush,” I explain. “I’m more of a stay at home, read a good book kinda gal.”
He laughs at my own description of myself.
“Are you sure it’s only that?” he wonders.
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe it’s that you don’t want to sit on my bike. Maybe Adrian’s?” I see he’s poking around, trying to feel out the territory. But, I’m not having it.
“Neither of you,” I reply with a smile. “You both belong to the same gang.”
“So, it’s that.” His face is expressionless.
“Well, don’t take it personally, but sitting on the bike of a drug dealer wouldn’t be that much fun for me.”
I have no idea what takes over me and makes me say this. Maybe the years of oppression, of walking on eggshells, of carefully watching what I say. Now that I’m finally free, I just can’t keep quiet any longer. And, obviously, if I wish to remove myself and my son from these men, I need to speak up.
“Drug dealer?” he asks, tilting his head a little. “You think we’re dealing drugs?”
“Well, drugs, guns, I don’t know,” I shrug my shoulder as if he just asked me if it was going to rain tomorrow and I told him I didn’t know.
He gives me another puzzled look, then burst out into loud, roaring laughter. I remain there, frozen, not having the slightest clue what it is I said that was so fucking funny.
“Sorry... Sorry…” he keeps on laughing, apologizing for it, bending over, and trying to stop but he can’t.
It takes him a few moments longer to fully return to normal. Then, he walks over to me, with a wide grin still hanging on his face. He cups my chin, bringing his face so close to mine that we are just inches apart. I feel like my heart is going to jump out of my chest, and right into his hands. I try to steady my breathing, but it’s hard. Much harder than I thought it’d be, as I wait to see what he’s up to.
“I’d love to burst that little bubble you’ve created,” he tells me. “But, I won’t. I’ll let Mason do that.” He finishes it off with a pinch on the cheek.
“What do you mean?” I ask him, but he’s already let go of me and starts to head back to his bike.
I wait for a moment or two, just to see if he’ll clarify this mysterious statement, but he does no such thing. He sits on his bike and just drives away. I stay like that, trying to figure out what just happened. What bubble? And, why Mason of all people?
I frown at no one, and slowly get to my car. Maybe I should just forget all this nonsense and focus on what matters. It’ll be that time of the month again, and I need to do my regular check up.