Chapter 19 Ari
Ari
The waves crash in a steady rhythm. I peer down at our HELP sign, irritated by the damage yesterday’s storm did.
Both of us bathed about an hour ago, separately, of course.
Then Villain told me he was gonna search for fish and other edible things.
He’s about a hundred feet away from me, walking the shoreline, head down, scanning like a hunter.
He looks very serious. I keep sneaking glances at him, but I don’t know why.
I crouch in the sand, rearranging the letters back into their rightful shape. It’s a big job, and tedious, but nothing’s too hard at this point. I’d do anything to get the hell out of here.
I’m just finishing up when Villain walks up, hand on his chin like he’s evaluating my work.
“I saw some fish.”
I look up at him and his empty hands. “And?”
“And I think I can figure out how to make something to catch ‘em.” He sits on the sand facing the waves. “I seen a few crabs, too. That shit took me back. Family reunion in Savannah. That’s where my people are from. And my uncle found a gang of crabs under the rocks at low tide. I don’t know why that shit stuck with me. ”
“Obviously for a moment such as this.”
He chuckles, then tips his head back to stare up at the sky. “It might not come to that, though. I hope it don’t.”
I settle onto the sand next to him, bringing my knees to my chest, draping an arm over them. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”
“Who you tellin’?”
We stare at the sea for a while. Calm. Peaceful. The tropical vacation we needed but never took.
“What do you think is happening back home?” I ask. “I’m sure your name is all over the news.”
“Yeah. Probably.”
I turn my head to look at him. “What’s it like being a celebrity?”
He shrugs. “It’s definitely different. If you woulda asked me that last week, the answer would have been like, aye, it’s lit.
I can get any bitch I want. Any car. Any crib.
Any drugs. I can even get somebody to wipe my ass if I want.
” He brings his eyes to mine. “I guess you can say this shit here humbled the fuck outta me, cuz what good did all that shit do? I’m still sitting right here next to you in the dirt, waitin’ on somebody to roll past and save my fuckin’ life. ”
I’m struck by his sincerity. Surprised, too.
“I think maybe…” I trail off, staring down at my toes, which desperately need to be done. “I think we should move closer to the ocean.”
“Why?”
“It’s like a fifteen minute walk every time we come down here. It just makes more sense to be near the sign, right?”
“If it comes to that, yeah. I don’t think it will.”
He sounds less certain every time he says that.
I lift a hand to pat my scalp, beating the itch away. It’s unbearable.
Villain watches me, tilting his head like he’s a researcher and I’m a specimen in a lab. “Y’all do that when it itches, right?”
I nod, still patting.
He exhales, long and reluctant. “Aight. I’ll help you.”
I blink at him. “You will?”
“Yeah. Tell me what to do.”
I put my knees under me, lifting myself higher in my excitement. “Okay. Find the thread and follow it. You have to cut it carefully so that you’re not cutting my hair out. If you—“
“Cut it with what?” he interrupts.
I open my mouth, then close it again, racking my brain trying to remember if there were scissors in that first aid kit.
Then Villain says, “Hold up.”
He reaches into his pocket. “Forgot I had this.” Out comes a pocket knife. When he clicks a button, the razor sharp blade flips up and reveals itself, gleaming in the sun.
“Um…”
“Relax,” he says, grinning. “I’ll be careful. I ain’t gon’ have you out here bald.”
Reluctantly, I position myself on the sand in front of him, almost between his legs, but not far back enough to call it that.
His fingers slip into my hair, surprisingly gentle, searching for the thread.
When I feel the cold blade sliding close to my skin, I tense, but he steadies me with a low, sure, “Relax. I got you.”
The sound of the thread snapping free is more satisfying than I expect. He leans closer, fingers working, his breath brushing the back of my neck.
Every so often, his knuckles brush my skin in a way that makes my stomach tingle. But my lower back isn’t happy at all, making me shift on the sand.
“My back is starting to hurt a little.”
“Cuz you old as fuck.”
The only reason I don’t turn around and punch him is because I don’t want to impale myself on his knife.
But also because I know he’s teasing.
I’m starting to get his sense of humor.
“I’m usually in a stylist’s chair for this,” I mutter, shifting again.
He stretches his legs out on either side of me. “Lay down. You can rest your head in my lap.”
I hesitate, biting down on my lower lip. I wanna say no, but the ache in my spine wins out. Slowly, I turn my body, scooting away, then lay on my back with my feet flat, knees bent, my head resting on his thigh facing the sea.
“Better?” he asks quietly.
I nod, closing my eyes as his fingers return to my head. It feels…intimate, like I’ve handed him something fragile to care for.
After a long, relaxing silence, his voice comes in, low and deep. “Why’d you kiss me last night?”
My eyes flick open, fixed on the restless sea. “I don’t know,” I say truthfully. “I just…felt something, I guess.” I take a deep breath. “I was scared. And lonely.”
His hands still. “How are you lonely when I’m here?”
A sad laugh escapes me. “Plenty of lonely people are lonely in a room full of other people. You can even be lonely in relationships.”
His fingers are moving again. “How does that work?”
I swallow hard. “I guess I’ll use myself as an example.
Me and Luca.” My throat is suddenly dry.
“I told you, I like him. And I do. But he’s like a lot of men.
They see a beautiful woman and want access to her, but they don’t care about who she is inside.
” I pause to take a deep breath. “I promise you, some of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen are very lonely. ”
I feel his gaze heavy on me. It stretches for a while before he clears his throat. “So how would you want…Luca to show his interest?”
I stare at the waves. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll know it when I feel it.”
He doesn’t answer, just goes back to working carefully through my braids. Little by little, the tension slips free until he finally says, “I think I got all of it. What now?”
“I’ll take the braids down later. Or maybe tomorrow before I wash it.”
“I don’t mind doing it now,” he says. “It’s nice out here. We chillin’.”
I smile to myself. “Okay. Thank you.”
I turn my head and stare up at the sky as his fingers get to work again, patiently loosening cornrows. His touch is so gentle, it lulls me. I forgot how good it feels to have someone touch me like this. My body sinks into the sand. Into him. At some point, I drift off.
When I wake, the sun is lower, and Villain’s fingertip is brushing lightly across my cheekbone, down to my jaw. My eyes snap open.
“What are you doing?”
“Admiring your beauty,” he says without hesitation and without stopping.
I turn my head to face him, and our eyes lock in a charged moment, one in which the world narrows to the space between us. It’s an intense feeling.
I’ve never felt it before.
Finally, he says, “You ready to go back?”
I’m not, but I nod anyway.
He helps me up, steadying me with strong hands. I grab my things and glance up at the sky, hope still lingering.
“Any planes or boats come by while I was asleep?”
“Yeah,” he teases. “Two of ‘em. I told ‘em to come back. I didn’t wanna wake you.”
I laugh, rolling my eyes as he stares at me.
“All that fuckin’ hair you got, why the hell were you wearing that?” he asks, pointing to the tracks in the sand.
I frown at his confusion. “Is your baby mama white or something?”
“Hell, nah.”
“So how do you not know that weave is a protective style?”
“I ain’t never had cause to ask,” he says. “Matter of fact, I wouldn’t have known it was fake if you didn’t make me take it out.”
“I didn’t make you,” I say, laughing. “You offered.”
“Cuz you was beatin’ on your head like it stole sumn.”
“I can’t with you,” I say as we head back toward the trees.
About halfway into our trek, Villain stops dead in his tracks. “Don’t move.”
My heart skips a beat. “What is it?”
“A snake. It’s huge.”
“Oh my God.” The word snake rips through me. My legs shake. A whimper slips out before I can stop it.
“Ari,” he says, his eyes locked on me. “It’s cool, we’ll just go around it.”
But my legs are cement. Fear has me rooted in place, barely able to breathe.
He turns fully, gripping my face with both hands, forcing my eyes to his. His voice is firm and steady. “You gon’ have to trust me. Aight? I won’t let anything happen to you. Follow me, and don’t make any noise.”
Tears sting the corners of my eyes. I’m still frozen, choking on the lump in my throat.
“On three,” he says. “One. Two. Three.”
His hand closes around mine, guiding me carefully.
I squeeze my eyes shut and swallow my fear, letting him lead me.
It’s not easy for me to trust, and it’s especially hard to trust him.
Plenty of men in my past have complained about that particular trait of mine, but my logic was always that you have to earn the right to be trusted.
When we finally stop, Villain exhales sharply. “We’re here.”
I open my eyes.
It’s our place. Our house. Relief slams through me so hard, my knees nearly buckle. My body falls weakly against his, trembling, my arms clinging to him like he’s the only solid thing in the world.
Which, right now at least, is very true.