Arianna Rose: The Arrival (Part 4) (12 page)

“Really, do you dry-hump your cousins, Beth?”

“Hell no!” Beth answered immediately. 

“See, even you don’t buy what you just said,” Arianna mumbled.

“No, I guess I don’t.”

“Ugh this is such a mess, you know that right?”  Arianna scrubbed her face with her hands.  “I want to ask him about it, but I don’t know, the way he acted a little while ago, I feel like I’m walking into a trap, like no matter how I bring it up, we’re going to fight about it.”

“That doesn’t sound like Desmond.  I’ve been with you guys for five months.  I see how he is with you, how he looks at you.  He is crazy in love with you.  There has to be some explanation for Amitt and their bizarre-ass interaction this morning,” Beth tried to comfort her by saying.   “I don’t know what that explanation could possibly be, mind you,” she added quickly and undermined what little comfort her words had wielded. 

Arianna cringed.  Her friend was right.  “He just seems so…different.  I can’t put my finger on it.  He said he was tired, which I get.  He did sift from here to the Antarctic Peninsula then back again.  And I would imagine feeling your father’s death is not a pleasant experience.”  Arianna knew she was trying to rationalize his behavior, explain it away when an explanation was clearly absent.  Such an undertaking was uncharacteristic of her.  She, of all people, abhorred women who made excuses for the bad behavior of men.  Her mother had been the poster child for women who defended their men’s wrongdoings.  Cathy Rose had always been so desperate to forgive and forget to maintain the status quo, even when the status quo had involved addiction or abuse.  Arianna had vowed early on to never be that way.  Now, here she was, trying to close her eyes to a situation that, while far less dire, demanded she keep them wide open.  “Shit, I’m trying to make excuses for him,” she chastised herself. 

Beth studied her as sh
e bit the skin around her thumbnail.  She dropped her hand to her lap then said in a measure voice, “You’re going to have to talk to him.  You have to get everything off your chest.  Just try to do it as levelheadedly as possible.  Don’t lose your cool.”

“I know,” Arianna agreed.  “I’m just not looking forward to it.”

“It might be your first real fight.  It might not.  You won’t know until later.” 

Arianna’s empty stomach cartwheeled then growled loudly.

“Why don’t we head over to Briathos’ house and scrounge for food.  I’m pretty sure we missed breakfast, but I’m sure we’ll find something.  Maybe we’ll even bump into some of the elders.  Spending time with them might give you a little perspective, a little peace.  Who knows?”

Beth was right.  She needed to eat and muster her composure.  Something told her she would need it.  Briathos was just the person she needed to be around.  He exuded serenity.  She hoped some of that serenity would wear off on her. 

“Okay.  Let’s go,” Arianna bobbed her head and said. 

Arianna and Beth wa
ndered to the main house after Beth made a quick pit stop at her cabin to change out of her pajamas and into clothes.  Briathos had been gracious enough to whip up bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches for them as well as drinks.  When their bellies had been filled, he’d invited them to his lanai for tea and pastries.  They had accepted and spent the greater part of the late morning and early afternoon listening as he regaled them with stories of his youth.  His tales had been a welcome relief.  Arianna had enjoyed his calming cadence and the tranquility that haloed him as completely as divine light around a saint.  All too soon, though, reality reared its ugly head. 

The
sun began to dip low and the sky was a brilliant palette of pinks and lavenders.  The pastel colors melded, blending and mingling with one another to create a fairytale backdrop that made her heart ache as she walked with Beth back to the cabins. 

“You ready for this?” Beth asked her.

“No,” Arianna admitted when they’d reached her bungalow.  She felt as if innumerable butterflies were teeming in her belly at once, the fluttering unbearable. 

“Good luck,” Beth said and gave her shoulder a squeeze.  “And do me a favor, try not to fry him, okay?” she winked then turned and continued toward the woods. 

“Hey what’s the matter?  You’re not going in?” Arianna asked and referred to the fact that Beth passed the cabin.

“No thanks.  I don’t trust myself with your new friend.  I’m going to see what Dane and Jason are up to.”

“All right, I’ll catch up with you later,” Arianna said.

Beth did not say anything more, just offered a knowing smile before she vanished into the woods.  Arianna turned t
he doorknob and walked inside, smack into Desmond’s solid chest.

“Oh, you’re up,” she said nervously.   She did not know why she felt so
jumpy around him all of a sudden.  She’d never felt like this around him, or anyone else, before.  Two powerful arms imprisoned her suddenly and smashed her against his bare body. 

“Where were you?” he asked harshly.  He stepped back, releasing his vice-like grip on her and looked down on her. His brows were arched with irritation, his expression intimidating.  He was still, too still, as he stared at her silently, suspic
iously, studying her face with eyes that had hardened to turquoise.

“I was with Beth and Briathos,” she said and felt as if she were answering to someone for the first time in her entire life.

His icy, unsettling expression thawed to a charming smile inspired by the devil himself.  “Oh, that’s fine,” he said. 

Fine?  Was he kidding?  Fine!  Had she missed something? Did she need his approval to leave the cabin? Frustration fused with inexplicable fear, a fight or flight,
gut instinct that warned her back a step, and warned her to proceed with caution. 

“I am glad you’re here,” she heard his voice say in a tone she was more acquainted with. 

“I am glad you’re awake,” she said and decided this was as good a time as any to launch into a discussion of what happened at Agnon’s compound, and more specifically, Amitt.  “I want to talk to you.”

“Oh,” he said with disinterest. 

“Yes.  You’ve been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours.  I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” he said dismissively.

“Are you?” she asked gently. 

Desmond screwed up his features at her as if he genuinely did not know what she was referring to.

“You know, your father and everything,” she prodded.

He maintained the befuddled air about him then without warning, looked as if a realization had dawned on him.  “
Oh yes, yes, my father.  Terrible tragedy,” he said absently.  “His death was such a tremendous loss.”

He rattled the words in such a manner, Arianna waited for him to add a
blah-blah-blah-death-is-rough
complete with eye rolling.  His father had dispatched Thanatos to kill him, but his current disposition was a far cry from what it had been when he’d left.  And it went beyond an errant stage of grieving.  He seemed as if he truly did not care.

“Tremendous loss,” she couldn’t help but echo his words.  “Huh.  I bet Amitt was very helpful when you were at your father’s place,” she added, laboring so hard to sound benign, she had to force the sourness from rising in her throat.

“Yes, yes, very helpful,” he continued distractedly.

“Funny, you never mentioned a cousin before,” Arianna said and
continued to struggle to keep the acid from her tone. 

“Hmm, I thought I had.  Oh well,” he brushed her off.

Arianna grew more and more aggravated with every non-answer he hurled.  He knew damn well he had never mentioned a cousin to her because he hadn’t.  How he had the audacity to tell her a blatant lie was beyond her.  He had never lied to her before.  Or had he?  Nothing seemed right.  He was acting so strangely, so intentionally remote.  She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming.  She wanted answers. 

“And she looks so different from you and your father.  It’s hard
to believe you two are related,” she continued. 

“My blood runs through many veins, Arianna,” he answered cryptically. 

“O
kay
,” she replied with confusion.  “That makes a lot of sense,” she mumbled under her breath sarcastically.  “Do you have more cousins coming?  Anyone else I should be looking out for?” She heard the snippiness creep into her tone, but could not help it,  Try as she may, she was not getting much in the way of answers from him.  And the harder she pressed the more vague and aloof he became. 

“Amitt is here to help our cause,” he said and completely sidestepped her questions. 
“Are you done grilling me?  I have traveled a great distance and suffered a great loss.  I was hoping to find comfort in your arms, but clearly, you refuse to provide me with such a courtesy.”  He was raising his voice at her again.  “You seem more interested in giving me the third degree about a beloved cousin who you feel threatened by than consoling me.  Really, Arianna, how selfish can you be?  Your misgivings toward Amitt are your own insecurities.  They’re your problem.  Not mine and certainly not hers.”

Arianna stood, stunned, as if she’d just been slapped in the face, dizzied by what he’d just said to her.  Was he right?  Was everything an exaggerated figment of her jealous imagination?  He seemed to think so. 
Suddenly, she was unsure.

Desmond dropped to the bed and held his head in his hands, obviously distraught.  She went to him and reached out a hand and touched it to his shoulder.  He flinched.  “Go,” he said pitifully.  “Just go.  I don’t want you to see me this way.”  Without warning, he was vulnerable, emotional.  She did not understand the Jekyll and Hyde mood swing he’d just had, but she believed he needed her.  She sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.  He immediately turned toward her and buried his face in her chest.  She twirled bits of his hair while he stayed there, his face nestled in her breasts.

“I need you,” he murmured.  “Please, I need to feel that you’re here for me,” he pleaded. 

She had never seen him so needy and helpless.  She felt compelled to hold him tighter.  He nuzzled her neck, his breath hot against it, and began pla
nting soft kisses there.  A part of her resisted him, repelled him even, though she did not know why.  He was Desmond, the man she loved.  And he’d said he needed her.  Nothing was odd about that.  But when he covered her mouth with his and pried her lips opened before plunging his tongue into her mouth with so much force their teeth clashed, she was truly surprised.  He’d gone from suspicious and angry to resentful to needy and pathetic and was now horny, all in a matter of moments.  Her heart stumbled like a clumsy runner while uncertainty swam laps in her brain.  His tongue continued to duel with hers as his hand raced up her shirt and squeezed her breasts harder than he ever had before.  She groaned in pain, but he obviously misread the sound she’d made as one of pleasure as he continued to grope her aggressively. 

She turned her mouth from his and gasped, “Whoa.” 

“What?” he panted.  “I need you.  Don’t you want me?”  He trained his gaze on her, his teal eyes veiled in want, so familiar, yet so achingly alien at the same time.  “I love you,” he whispered.  His head lowered so that his lips hovered above hers.  She wanted him to be his old self again.  She tipped her chin and pressed her lips to his, longing for the man she loved to come back to her, to ditch this moody man who’d replaced him.  He slid his tongue along the seam of her mouth, parting her lips more gently.  He suckled her bottom lip then her top, before sliding his tongue inside her again, pumping it erotically.  He leaned her back against the bed and parted her thighs with his knee.  He shifted his heavy frame atop her and prodded her with his hardness.  “You feel that?” he asked.  “That’s for you.”

Uneasiness wailed like a siren,
reverberating through her body.  He pried her legs open further and ground himself against her, his hands tearing at her T-shirt.  She stiffened and resisted, but he remained undaunted.  He flipped her onto her belly and lifted her shirt then ran his tongue down the length of her spine before sinking his teeth into her backside, hard.

“Ouch!” Arianna cried out. 

“What the fuck?” Desmond flipped her onto her back and glowered at her.  “What is your problem?  Since when did you become so prissy?”

“That hurt,” she said calmly and made a conscious effort to steady her breathing. 

“Oh, whatever!  You’re exaggerating this like you exaggerated the thing with Amitt!” he blustered as he climbed off her. 

“Desmond,” she tried to calm yet another mood swing. 

“Forget it.  I don’t even want to anymore,” he huffed.  “I’m going back to sleep.”

“You haven’t eaten all day,” she said and didn’t know why she even bothered concerning herself with his well-being
.  He didn’t seem interested in hers at the moment.  He stomped to the bathroom and slammed the door. 

Arianna covered her face with her hands.  Tears threatened but refused to fall, leaving a burning
, throbbing sensation to pulse behind her eyelids.  She could not believe how erratically he was behaving.  What was going on with him? The question looped in her mind unendingly.  She would have sworn he was someone else entirely were it not for the steady hum of his life force, clear and undeniable, thrumming in time with hers.  She’d been able to feel it since she’d become aware of him, and from what he’d always told her, the feeling was mutual.  He’d always felt her.  The thought had brought her comfort, until now.  Now it brought with it a dull ache.  He could feel her wounded soul, yet did nothing to aid its healing.  The realization left her feeling empty and exposed.  She sat up slowly and gathered underwear, a tank top and yoga pants from her duffle bag.  As soon as the bathroom door opened and he gusted past her still mumbling angrily, she slipped inside and closed the door.  She stripped and stood beneath the puny spray of the shower head, trying in vain to scrub the events of the day from her skin.