Caged View (10 page)

Silence hung on the line, and then MeShack
said, “I wanted to do something special for you tonight.”

“We’re not together, so that’s not
necessary.”

He blew air through the phone. “It doesn’t
mean we can’t spend time together. Can you call me when you are on
your way?”

“Yes, I will.” I hung up as Dr. Patterson
opened the door to her office.

I walked down the hallway to greet her.

“Come on in, Lanore,” she said.

I took my shoes off and stepped onto the
coarse twig carpet, knowing I’d get splinters by the time I left. I
carefully tiptoed to the tan couch and waved to her assistant Nick
as he pulled out his huge wooden drum shaped like an hourglass.

Rose-colored incense was spread all over the
room, pushing out a floral fragrance.

Nick put on his mask. It was carved in the
image of some Santeria god or goddess. If MeShack was here, he’d
know the god and why Nick wore it. Regardless, black paint covered
the right side of the mask. The left was red.

Dr. Patterson closed the door behind her and
strolled in. Her crushed velvet robe colored in tangerine and ivory
twirled around her bare feet.

“Tonight is bittersweet.” She sat down in a
chair made of straw, filling the air with a creaking noise.

Every session, I always worried that the
chair would break or tear apart under her, but it never
happened.

Dr. Patterson grabbed a pair of
tangerine-colored eyeglasses and put them on. She yanked out a
notebook and said, “I’m happy to announce that you’ll finally be
ending your anger management sessions with me. Of course, on the
other hand, I truly enjoyed our time together.”

“Thanks.” I closed my eyes as my head sank
into the tan pillows.

Nick drummed a slow rhythm that was supposed
to be a soothing sound to call the gods of whatever, but I just
found that damn thing annoying.

I shifted in my seat, thinking about how
good the movie would be.

“So let’s begin,” she said.

I cleared my throat. “I have an anger
management problem and an addiction to self-destructive
behavior.”

“And when did you realize that?”

Every damn Wednesday night for the past
year, I say the same freaking thing and—

“Lanore? When did you realize this?” Dr.
Patterson repeated, patiently waiting.

“The night I walked in on my boyfriend.” I
cleared my throat. “I mean my ex-boyfriend having sex with two
women in a nightclub bathroom.”

Rage rose as the images flashed in my mind;
MeShack’s face buried in a blonde’s cleavage, his hands groping the
other woman’s behind.

We’d gone to Liquid nightclub together to
check out the venue before he performed the next week. He’d excused
himself to go to the bathroom. Groupies trailed behind him, all
wearing his band’s shirt and screaming his name.

Initially, I thought nothing of it. He’d
been in the band since the beginning of college. They had a mild
success in Shango District, but the groupies had just begun pouring
in that month. I figured he’d sign an autograph, go to the
bathroom, and come back to me.

Thirty minutes later, I went looking for
him. I recognized his moans before I opened the Pureblood female
bathroom.

“Lanore?” Dr. Patterson said, getting my
attention. “What did you do that night?”

I gripped the couch cushions. “I set him and
the women on fire.”

That night, I’d raised my hands in the air
and pushed flames out of my hands, directing them to the walls to
form a circle around the gyrating threesome. MeShack hadn’t even
realized what was happening until flames licked up his legs.

I’d screamed curse words until I was hoarse
as fireballs flung out of my hands, greeting the women’s skin.
Their flesh bubbled into black, bulging distortions, and I laughed
or maybe cackled. Either way, I scared the shit out of the club
manager when he raced into the hallway to discover the source of
the smoke and smell of burning hair.

“And do you have any regrets?” Dr. Patterson
asked for the three hundredth time.

Those guilt-ridden knots formed in my
stomach.

One of the women was a Shifter. It took her
and MeShack a month to heal.

The other woman was a Mixbreed.
Unfortunately, she had sat in the burn unit for six months, using a
machine and several complicated spells to breathe. I’d volunteered
at the hospital under another name and read to her every night, but
it didn’t make up for the suffering I’d caused her.

When she was released, her parents had
wheeled her out. Permanent scars covered the right side of her
face. She wasn’t able to walk until a month later.

“Lanore?” Dr. Patterson tapped her pen
against her tablet. “Do you regret your actions?”

“Yes. I regret it all. No man is worth
causing so much pain to others.”

Nick sped up the drumming.

“Have you burned anyone recently?” the
doctor asked.

“No,” I said too quickly.

If you don’t include the Mixbreed in the
sewer last week that tried to kill me when I was with Zulu.

“And are you staying away from men that may
promote self-destructive behavior?” Dr. Patterson asked.

“Yes.”

If you don’t include a few things.

I’d made out with Zulu on his desk. The next
week, I made out with MeShack after he’d seduced me with wine,
lobster, and chocolate. With both men, I’d raced away like a
hysterical woman and had been avoiding them like the plague.

I groaned.

There’s no hope for me.

Nick beat out a smoother pattern.

“And do you forgive your ex-boyfriend?” Dr.
Patterson asked.

Absolutely not.

The temperature rose to sweltering.

The doctor cleared her throat.

Nick stopped drumming.

Damn it.

I couldn’t get my certificate of completion
without full rehabilitation.

“Yes. I forgive him,” I muttered.

“Lanore, please look at me,” the doctor
commanded.

I opened my eyes and sat up.

“Nick, you’re excused,” she said.

It took him barely five seconds to speed out
of there.

“I like you Lanore, but I’m tired of seeing
you every Wednesday. You have to forgive him and yourself.” She lit
another incense stick on her right. “Release the anger. It’s been a
year. He’s a Shifter. It’s time to let go.”

I rolled my eyes.

That’s what everybody says.

A Mixbreed cheats, it’s horrific. A Shifter
cheats, oh that’s because they’re in their Season.

Fuck their Season.

The drapes erupted into flames.

Dr. Patterson waved the fire away. The
flames disappeared.

“I’ll get you some more curtains,” I
mumbled.

“That is okay.”

Although I tried to keep my power secret,
Dr. Patterson knew the first time I walked in her office that I
could create fire. She said she’d sensed the heated blood running
through my veins. Additionally, I set a lot of stuff in her office
on fire during my rants.

“Repeat after me,” she commanded. “I forgive
MeShack and I forgive myself.”

“I forgive MeShack and I forgive myself.” I
forced myself not to roll my eyes.

“We’re ending early. Go ahead and enjoy your
life.” She stood up. “I don’t want to see you back in here or find
out from a newspaper article that you set someone on fire. Don’t be
impulsive. Think through the situation. Try a peaceful alternative
first.”

“Okay.”

“And rule number one. Don’t date any Shifter
until he’s matured out of his Season. Monogamy just isn’t going to
happen until then.”

I nodded, grabbed my stuff, and said, “Well,
I think I have a great plan. I’m attempting to date a different
type of guy.”

“Well that’s definitely a start.”

“It’s foolproof.” I flashed a wide
smile.

* * *

New beginnings.

The moon glowed through the habitat’s barred
ceiling as I stepped off the tram. I breathed in the cool, fresh
air, ready to see the movie.

I’m going to really try some sort of
romantic relationship with Wallace. Eventually.

There were things that I had to get used to
with him.

He scratched his arms and chest a lot due to
some sort of skin disease he had. It was why his skin appeared
really splotchy. At times, he smelled like rotten cheese, but hey,
I didn’t walk around smelling like flowers all the time, either.
And then there were those awkward moments where I tried to hold his
sweaty hand, and he would move it out of my reach.

He probably needs more time to get to know
me.

I chewed the inside of my cheek.

Not all men are sexual deviants that
constantly need to touch the women around them.

I inhaled and turned the corner, ready to
greet my future.

New beginnings.

I spotted Zulu immediately among the crowd
of Captain Habitat fans. He stood right next to Wallace, conversing
with him as if they’d been childhood friends. His massive biceps
and pectoral muscles stretched the black Captain Habitat shirt he
wore.

I almost laughed at the absurdity of him
wearing my hero’s shirt. If only the need to tear that shirt away
and savor each muscle’s curve hadn’t overflowed in me.

“Lanore, over here,” Wallace shouted over
the loud, chattering group of movie-goers. He waved his hand from
side to side.

Forcing a smile, I slowly maneuvered through
the massive crowd. My nerves flared on edge as I swallowed.

Now what am I going to do with Zulu
here?

I scanned the area outside the movie
theater. I could probably slip behind a tall group and then crawl
out of there, but of course MeShack had been right about the type
of people that would come to this movie.

Most of the mob standing outside were young
kids with their parents. They all wore different types of Captain
Habitat shirts, from purple to black. Some even had the cool retro
shirts where my favorite superhero wore brown cowboy boots and had
a violet lasso instead of his transparent Hexagon laser gun.

Regardless, there were too many short kids
and nowhere to escape.

“Excuse me,” I muttered, passing four boys
who were acting out some fight scene and bumping into
everybody.

Now only a few feet away from Wallace, I
glanced their way—only to notice Zulu focused on me. The dark blue
and gold in his eyes gleamed. The portion of the cords that I could
see on his arm brightened into different colors and looked like
rainbow veins on his skin.

I approached them.

Wallace hugged me and said, “I was at the
Inked Guerilla telling Zulu about our plans, and he wanted to come
along. He’s a huge Captain Habitat fan too.”

I opened my eyes wide. “Really? Because I
remember you commenting on how his purple tights must have
constricted his balls.”

“No. You have me confused with someone
else.” His voice came out deep with a smooth tone. His eyes
journeyed from my mouth all the way down to my toes. “You look
lovely tonight.”

“Thanks.” I ruffled my locks to let them
fall around my face and hide me from his view. “We should probably
head in.”

Zulu appeared on my side, guiding me to the
door with his hand snugly placed at the center of my back.

I glanced up at Zulu and bumped into
Wallace, head first.

“Are you okay?” Zulu leaned down and asked,
seizing my senses with his sandalwood cologne.

“Yes.” I moved away from his hand and got on
Wallace’s right, putting distance between Zulu and me.

“So I’ve been catching Zulu up,” Wallace
said, getting behind me. “He didn’t get a chance to see Super Force
II.”

“Okay.” I could feel Zulu’s eyes on me, or
maybe it was just my own imagination. “And what do you think,
Zulu?”

“Well, I like that midget guy’s powers.”
Zulu rushed up to the door and opened it for me.

The aroma of freshly popped popcorn hit my
nose.

“Midget is offensive you should say little
person,” I insisted.

“Really?” Zulu raised his eyebrows. “I would
assume calling him a little guy would be more offensive. It would
make me mad.”

“Well regardless G-5 is small but really
cool. He can see through walls and buildings.” Wallace moved his
hands around like a wild man.

I blocked the conversation out as Wallace
began describing some scene from the latest graphic novel he’d read
that reminded him of Zulu.

Why don’t you just give him a freaking blow
job, Wallace.

In his bedroom, Wallace had a picture of
Zulu in between Trojatom the Mighty Robot and Captain Habitat. He’d
confessed this to me one time in the library and then discussed
Zulu the rest of the night. The conversation had been unbearable
because all I wanted to do was stop thinking about Zulu.

I trailed behind both men. It made it harder
for Zulu to gaze at me, and yet I got a great view of his muscular
behind.

Stop it, Lanore.

“Is that him?” A Mixie woman with short red
dreadlocks said near several Coming Soon movie posters.

“It has to be,” her short pudgy friend said.
“Look at the arm cords sticking out of his shirt.”

This is exactly why I would never date him.
Too many groupies.

“Oh, girl, a bunch of Supes are getting that
now.” She bumped into me, didn’t say excuse me, and then glided
toward Zulu. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but are you—”

“No.” Zulu shook his head, blurred to my
side, and grabbed my hand.

My breath caught in my throat at his quick
speed.

“What are you doing?” I gently pulled my
hand away.

“They think I’m available.” He grinned.

“You are,” I muttered.

With clear persistence, the two women
strolled around Wallace and marched Zulu’s way.

“Are you sure? Because you look just like
him,” she said as Zulu’s hand went back to the center of my back.
“Can we have your autograph? What you do for Mixbreeds is
awesome!”