The Mark of Cain (19 page)

Hara then proceeded to tell Crystal everything,
holding nothing back.

“Does that make me easy?” she asked once she was
done. She had been going to say “slut,” but even thinking that word made her
feel guiltier than she felt for what they’d done to make her think that.

“No. But I think we should go buy you some new bras
and underwear for the next time it happens.”

“It’s not going to,” Hara answered.

“And why not?! You liked it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. But that’s beside the point. I need to go to
confession. I have to confess about that as well as for hitting Tracker and
yelling at both him and Inac.”

“Why bother? You’re gonna end up doing all of the
above again.”

“No I won’t. I’m planning on having somebody with us
all the time,” she said as she played with a rampant thread on the couch,
gazing at it because she was now too embarrassed to look Crystal in the eye.
Quietly, she finished, “I don’t trust myself with him.”

“Then why don’t you just end things?”

The thread forgotten, she looked up at her friend in
shock. “Why would I? He’s amazing! I’m falling hard for him.”

“Then who cares if you two sleep together?”

“God does. I was raised being taught that ‘
It
’
is wrong.”

“‘
It
’? What? You can’t even say the word?”
she said, laughing at Hara.

“You know I don’t swear.”

“Sex is not a swear word.”

“Crystal!
Please
?!”

“Honey, I really wish you hadn’t been brainwashed
all your life.”

If Hara hadn’t known that Crystal was kidding, she
would have been upset. As it was, she just ignored that comment.

“I have to call Inac to tell him when I’ll have time
for him because he wants to see me again as soon as possible. What should I
say?”

“Tell him to come over tonight and share your bed
with you.”

“Crystal!” she said, laughing as she lightly smacked
her friend.

“What? I’m just saying what you
really
want.
You know that got you wanting him to do just that.”

“So? I need your help to
not
do that. I don’t
need you egging me on.”

“Okay. Okay,” her friend said, her hands raised in
mock surrender as she rolled her eyes. “I’ll behave.”

Hara grabbed her faux-leather purse the exact color
of her eyes so that she could call Inac to tell him who knew what. She rummaged
through it looking for her phone, but it was nowhere to be found.

“What the…?”

“Whatcha looking for?”

“My phone. I can’t find it.”

“Where was the last place you had it?”

She thought back. “I accidentally spilled my purse
in Ancient Civilizations. I must not have grabbed my phone.” She looked at her
cheap, fake-gold watch. “I bet Professor Sampson’s still there. I’ll see you
later.”

Without waiting for Crystal to respond, she ran out
the door. She almost sped to the campus—one mile over wasn’t
technically
speeding. Once there, she jogged to the history building. But as she was
approaching her classroom, a voice that didn’t belong slowed her steps.

“I’m telling you, she’s in deep!” the voice said.

What was Tracker doing there? He didn’t have
Professor Sampson for any of his classes.

“You were brought in to help keep her on the right
path! Why didn’t you tell me he’d found her?! We would have gotten her far away
from here before he could have gotten his teeth in her!” That was Professor
Sampson, and boy, did he sound
livid
!

“Tongue, more like.”

“Exactly. You know everything about the situation
she’s in. We told you everything when we brought you in. And you know your
place in it. So how come you didn’t do your job?!”

“I’ve tried!”

“If you’ve tried so hard, then how come we’re in the
situation we’re in? There’s no way we’ll be able to convince her otherwise
now!”

“Me trying got the opposite reaction! How could I
know that she would turn all rebellious and stubborn all of a sudden?”

“Tracker, you don’t seem to realize that this is
five hundred years’ worth of planning that you have single-handedly ruined by
not telling us!”

“I wasn’t sure!”

“Of course you were sure! You knew that he’s used
that name, didn’t you?!” Tracker didn’t make a sound. “We made a mistake
bringing you in. I told Them not to trust you. I told Them you were too young,
and that you didn’t believe.”

“I’m sorry, okay?! I messed up!”

“Your mess-up might cost her her life.” This time,
she could hear Tracker grunt before her professor continued. “I just want to
know why he hasn’t killed her yet. That’s what
he’s
been planning for
the past five hundred years.”

“I don’t know. He’s playing with her.”

“This is what we’ll have to do….” Professor Sampson
was no longer yelling, so it was difficult to hear. Hara had to concentrate as
hard as she could to even catch the two words that prickled the hairs at the
nape of her neck. Those two words were, “…Kidnap Anahara….”

Her stomach dropped at the same time that she almost
passed out. They were planning on
kidnapping
her?

In a frenzy, she turned and ran down the hall,
unsure where she was going; she was just going
away
. She was outside,
sprinting down the sidewalk, leaving her car and the school far behind her.
They were
crazy
. Professor Sampson and Tracker were completely
certifiable.

She didn’t slow down until her lungs were burning as
much as her legs were. Now practically stopped, she took the time to look
around, but she didn’t recognize a thing. Across the street, two scary looking
men in grungy clothes as dingy as they looked were watching her with
appreciation. From the hungry leers on their faces, she could tell what was
going on in their minds. She had let her panic run her right into a dangerous
situation.

Just when she thought she was going to die of fear,
she noticed a gas station just ahead of her. The dirty men, now walking toward
her, were closing in fast so she picked up her pace until she was safe in the
gas station. Through the unwashed and graffitied windows, she noticed the men
setting up camp. They were going to wait her out.

“Um…do you have a phone?” she asked the cashier. He
looked creepy and unkempt too—his long, dark, greasy hair was falling into his
eyes. You probably had to be tough to not get robbed here.

“You got money for it?” he demanded in a tone she
imagined would fit better in a prison than a gas station in L.A.

Scared out of her wits, she began fidgeting through
the coin purse key-ring attached to her keys, surprised that she’d held on to
them during her escape—her purse was still in her car.

“Um…is this enough?” she asked, holding up the few
coins she had.

He held out his sweaty hand, his tattooed knuckles
cracking as he did. “Over there,” he said with putrid breath smelling like
stale cigarettes and alcohol mixed with rotting food, pointing to a phone down
the counter obviously not meant for customers as he pocketed the change.

She was lucky that she’d stared at Inac’s number a
million times as she’d fantasized about him. Having it memorized, she dialed
it, praying to God that he would answer.

“Hello?” his voice said after only the second ring.

“Inac? It’s Hara. I’m in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“Professor Sampson and Tracker have gone psycho!”
Then, taking a deep breath, she sputtered, “I overheard them talking about
kidnapping me to save me from something or other, so I ran, and now I’m in a
really scary neighborhood, and two guys outside are following me, and smiling at
me like they wanna rape me!!! I didn’t know who else to call!”

“Where are you?” He sounded angry as well as
worried.

She relayed the address to him after getting it from
the cashier.

“Okay. Stay inside. I’m on my way.”

“Please hurry?”

“I’m already heading to my car.”

“Okay.” Her mind was in so many places that made
that the only word she could think of now that she’d shouted to him the short
version of what had happened to her.

The cashier came over to the corner she was cowering
in, sticking his sweaty, stinky hand out in demand for more money, but when she
shook her head because she didn’t have any more, he took the phone and said
into it, “Sorry. She’s out of money.” He then hung it up.

Hara was shocked. Here she was, about to be raped or
kidnapped, and this guy had just hung up on the one person who could help her.
Besides, she didn’t feel much safer in here with this guy and his B.O. Truth be
told, she was so scared that she hadn’t even had one tear leak out. She was
frightened and numb, like bare fingers feel after throwing snowballs for hours.
She would probably have a rude awakening similar to them when they started to
unfreeze too; that burning stinging that had you holding your breath it hurt so
bad.

After what seemed like eons of her staring out the
window, trying not to breathe the stenches of the place in too deeply while the
cashier sneered at her as much as the men outside were, a sleek black car
sailed into the parking lot, its tires screeching because it was moving so
fast. Instead of parking in a space, it took up three spaces by parking
perpendicular, the passenger side facing the floor-to-ceiling window that was keeping
her reasonably safe.

She watched as the driver-side door opened up into
the air instead of out like they usually did. She then saw Inac’s large form
step out, shooting a look she couldn’t see toward the men outside that had them
scrambling to get away.

Hara was so happy to see him that she ran outside,
throwing herself into his strong arms. Now that she was safe, her tears spilled
out all at once.

“It’s okay, Hara. I’m here,” Inac whispered into her
ear as he held her tight, lightly rubbing her back with his thumbs.

Only once her sobs had calmed somewhat did he pull
her back enough to suggest, “Come on. I’ll take you back to my place where you
can take a hot bath and drink a cup of tea. Then you can tell me what happened.
Sound good?”

She nodded as she looked up into his concerned eyes
as he wiped her tears away. Inac then led her to the car, opening the door for
her, which also opened vertically. He then helped her into the low, cozy
leather seat and did her seatbelt up for her—it was more like a harness, and
her shaking fingers never would have been able to figure it out. After closing
her door, he walked around and got in through his that he’d left open.

He shut it and revved the engine, saying, “I won’t
make you tell me before you’re ready, but I really think you should tell me
tonight about what made you so upset that you ended up in such a bad
neighborhood.”

Again she nodded.

When she still hadn’t said a word, he asked, “Do you
want to wait until we’re at my house?”

Another nod. Right now she couldn’t find the
strength to speak. She never had been a very tough girl. She’d always been the
one who cried if someone said something mean or looked at her wrong. She was
surprised she’d had the guts to leave the orphanage in the first place,
especially since they’d offered her a permanent place there.

She’d received her GED at sixteen and had spent the
next three years doing the job they’d permanently offered her, which was
basically taking care of the younger children as well as tutoring the older
ones. Everyone had cried when she’d left. She visited them as often as she
could because it was still her home and always would be. But every time she saw
them, it was only that much harder to leave again.

The view through the window was taking them away
from the dilapidated buildings and into downtown, to the
ritzy
part of
downtown where she’d heard you couldn’t find a studio apartment for less than a
million dollars. She didn’t know why that surprised her. She should have
realized that Inac wouldn’t live anywhere but here. He was totally a privileged
city guy.

At last they turned into the basement garage of the
fanciest building she’d ever seen. It looked brand new as well as completely
contemporary with all its windows and steel. Famous people probably lived in
this building.

After opening the well-lit garage, they drove around
and around past fancy cars that told her that she was right about it being
ritzy, until they came to a spot that read “
Penthouse Parking Only
.”
Everywhere she looked were signs designating the spaces for the penthouse.
Twelve in all. And every one was filled with a sleek car, or two to three
bullet bikes.

“Are all those yours or is there more than one
penthouse?”

“There’s just one. But I own the building so, when I
had it built, I made sure that I got as many spaces as I wanted.”

“Oh….”