Airel - Aaron Patterson [60]
“Later,” I said. “I promise, but not here. I have to show you…not tell you.” He gave me a doubtful look. Then he sat back and folded his arms across his chest.
“Okay, but I’m holding you to it. You look good. I mean, your forehead looks perfect. I mean, it looks fine. No welt, not even a bruise or anything.” In spite of his awkwardness, he was cute. He leaned forward again and I felt my skin heat up.
“Stop staring at me like that. I’m not some experiment. I’m a human being with feelings.” It came out of me a little too forcefully and I wondered where this sudden aggression came from. After all, this was Michael Alexander I was talking to here.
Wings fluttered and She calmed me down, but I still gave him “the look.” It was what my dad said I needed to work on, that ultra serious “I-ain’t-takin’-none-o’-this” look. Dad had told me that I needed practice before it would strike fear in the heart of a man. I secretly hoped it wasn’t too effective.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare at you.” He sighed. “I just can’t help it when you’re around me. Here. How about we try this,” and he closed his eyes, looking down. When he opened them, he looked directly at me, and now instead of the gunslinger, there was something that made me want to give myself to him, forever. Deeper still, savage wonder was there, as if he saw something to be feared when he looked at me.
My eyes must have widened. “Okay, stop, just—if you don’t stop it I’m going to cry.” I was so getting in over my head. “You can only use that on special occasions.” My heart was racing, and I was starting to feel like I needed some fresh air.
“But isn’t this a special occasion?” He looked at me with calm curiosity.
“Well yeah. Yes, it is. I mean, it’s our first date and I have to say, so far you’re picking up some points: perfect restaurant, and you look good.” I raised my glass of ice water to him, and like a perfect gentleman, he clinked his against it.
“Thanks, Airel. I try. There oughta be a law against how you look, though, really. You might cause an accident just by walking down the sidewalk.” I laughed and blushed. At the same time, he thundered with a deep low laugh that was absolutely wonderful.
I was trying to savor everything. This, I thought, was a moment that I would be able to look back on and remember, maybe even tell stories about. Not that I was making long range plans or anything, but a girl can dream. Even if it’s a little wild. But even though I was literally having the time of my life, something was nagging at me, pulling me from--or in--a direction that was uncomfortable. My stomach was a little unsettled, which worried me, but it went beyond that. Something wasn’t right. I didn’t know what it was, or even if I was sure about it, but I wasn’t about to let it ruin my evening.
Chapter IV
A sleek black GMC Yukon sat under a scrubby pine tree in the mall parking lot. The man inside liked everything to be just-so. With blackout tint on the windows, oversized rims, and forgettable license plates, the SUV looked like something someone in the Mob would drive.
The back seats had been removed. Installed in their place were two reclining bucket seats made of hard plastic and equipped with locking five-point harnesses. There were straps on the armrests and footrests. It was like a paddy wagon designed for the criminally insane. The extra dark tinting and soundproofing ensured that even if the victim screamed after the doors were shut, not a sound would penetrate to the outside.
The man at the wheel took a drag from a hand-rolled cigarette. His window was cracked, and a thin curl of smoke made its way out into the goldening sunlight, then fell downward onto the lines of the pavement. He looked up and down the parking lot with sharp eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.
He