Destiny United (11 page)

Then he pulled out a piece of rope. Her heart slammed
into her chest. Had she spoken too soon? Before she could ask what it was for,
he had her wrists locked in one hand while he tied the rope around them.

“What are you doing?” she yelled, horrified.

“You’ve already run from me once and you won’t come
inside. What am I to do, Aila?” It was a question but he’d already decided the
answer. Tie her to the steering wheel!

“I didn’t run from you.” She yanked her arms to get free
but he easily held her still.

“You left the car when I told you to stay. And to get
drunk at a bar, no less. You’ve proven that I cannot trust you.”

“I won’t leave. I promise.”

“And you expect me to believe that?”

“Yes!”

“Aila,” he said in a low voice, “I’m sorry but you’ve
left me no choice. This is why I told you it would be best for you to obey me.”

Panic welled in her chest and her breath quickened.

“Don’t start that again. It won’t change my mind.”

 “I’ll come with you,” she spilled before she could stop
herself. “Please. Just don’t leave me here defenseless.”

He looked into her eyes for one long unreadable moment.
“Done,” he said then unwound the binds.

“What?”

“It’s about time you moved past this. I’m just glad you
brought it up first.” He jumped out of the car then sped around to open her
door.

Wait, wait, wait
.
She hadn’t really thought this through. But he had already pulled her from the
car.

“Wait!” she pleaded. “I don’t know. I may have changed my
mind.”

Marcelo tucked her small body into his side, wrapping an
arm around her shoulders. She felt just a little bit safer being in his
embrace. But still, she dragged her feet as he tugged her along through the
parking lot.

“You and me,
querida
.
We’re going to get through this together.”

For a moment, she actually believed him.

“Now, what is it you’re afraid of?”

“Umm…” They stepped through the door and entered a department
store. Her gaze darted back and forth looking for exits, watching people
frantically, searching for invisible threats.

“Aila.” Marcelo’s voice pulling her back to reality.
“What are you afraid of?”

“Umm…”

“You said that already.”

“People. Looking at me.”

“No worries there. They’re all looking at me.” A dazzling
grin reached his face as he gazed down at her. “It’s my hot body and devilish
good looks.”

She managed a strangled snort. “You got the devil part
right.”

He nodded slowly. “Ah, so that’s the trick.”

“What?”

“If I keep you insulting me, you forget your fears.”

“I haven’t forgotten. I’m shaking like a leaf, if you
haven’t noticed.”She stuck out one trembling hand.

Without slowing his steps he grabbed her hand, brought it
to his lips, and kissed it. “Then tell me, cosita, what else are you afraid
of?” He kept hold of her hand, confidently, securely, and she was suddenly more
aware of that one kissed spot than anything else around her.

“Umm…I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

Marcelo pushed her along, his strong arm holding her
close but not letting her drag her feet anymore. They moved quickly through the
aisles, getting farther and farther away from the exit. Her breathing started
to shallow.

“Aila,” he said, his voice taking on an alluring quality.
“Focus on my voice. Look at the floor if you have to. One foot in front of the
other.”

Yes, okay, I can do that
.
The floor. It had a square pattern. She focused on stepping over the cracks as
they walked. “I’m scared someone’s going to ask me a question and I won’t know
the answer. And I’m scared I’m going to knock over a display or bump into
something delicate and break it. Then everyone will look at me and laugh.” She
watched the lines move under her feet. “I’m scared I’m going to get lost. Or
there will be an emergency and I won’t know what to do. Like the fire alarm
or…or…a terrorist attack.”

Marcelo stopped abruptly then quieted her rambling with a
finger under her chin. He pulled her head up to meet his gaze. “We all have fears,
Aila. But the question is, how long are you going to let them run your life?”

She raised her brows as his words sunk in. “
You
have fears?”

He looked hesitant, but answered, “Anyone who has
something to lose has something to fear.”

“What do you –”

“Another time,
querida
.”
With a firm shove she was in an aisle surrounded by women’s clothing. “Now, we
shop.” He grinned, perfect white teeth glinting against his russet skin. It
made her smile, though her heart still pounded in fear.

Aila perused the racks, fingering the garments, a
gratified smile on her face. She kept one hand locked around Marcelo’s large
wrist. He’d glanced down at it twice and she’d thought he meant to pull away,
until she saw his lips curl into a small smile. She knew it was silly, but for
some reason, holding onto him made her feel better. Like she was keeping him
from running off without her.

“I haven’t been shopping in so long,” she said.

Marcelo furrowed his brows and turned to study her. “How
do you get clothes then?”

“Boyfriend. Whoever it is at the time. Or online.”

His voice was sharp. “Exactly how many boyfriends have
you had?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been with Jimmy for a
while though. He has good taste in clothing. And he tolerates my limited diet.”
Her hand brushed up against a silky dress. She smiled inside. She could get
used to this shopping business.

At once Marcelo’s body language changed. Relaxed and
content before, now his muscles were tense, his large body invading her space.
She had to strain her neck to look up at him.

With an accusing expression, he said, “Let me get this
straight. You use men to buy you things you need because of your…”

“Disability? Yes. But it’s not as if they know it.”

“What would happen if you didn’t have a boyfriend? No one
to take care of you?”

She blinked. Why did he look so angry? And why was it any
of his business? “I don’t know,” she admitted, but with pride still in her
voice. “It’s never happened.”

“So when you break up with one…”

“I find someone to take his place.”

“And do you sleep with them to keep them happy?”

She gasped. “I’m not a prostitute!”

His eyes turned fierce with an emotion she couldn’t
decipher then he turned around and started pulling clothing off the racks.

“I don’t know why you’re judging me,” she said following
closely on his heels. “It’s none of your business anyway.”

He didn’t even turn to face her as he combed through the
racks. “It’s immoral,” he said half-heartedly. “Using men to meet your needs.”

“Immoral?” she yelled, surprising herself with her
boldness. “This from a
vampire
from the
Underworld!
”

He spun around so fast she flinched then took a step
back. Instead of being angry, like she’d thought, he smirked and said, “My
little hot-headed fae is back.” Then he stroked her cheek with a knuckle. She
scowled but didn’t pull away. “I’m not judging you, Aila. Gods know I’m not the
best example of a moral life. I just think you can do better than living like a
leech off men.”

“Funny choice of words for someone like you,” she
muttered, though she felt the anger recede with his words.

He thrust an arm full of clothing at her then spun her
around and pushed her to the back of the store. They entered a separate room
with a row of stalls.

“What am I supposed to do here?” she asked.

“Try them on.”

She looked at the stalls then back to Marcelo. “By
myself?”

He grinned wickedly. “Unless you want me to help you.”

She frowned. “Can’t we just buy them?”

“No. You’re going to try each and every one of them on,
then walk out here and show me. It’s the only thing that makes shopping with a
woman worthwhile. And since I’m paying for the clothes, I’m taking my due.”

Ballsy!
Before she could
stutter through a response he had pushed her through one of the doors and shut
it behind her. She scanned the stall then placed the clothes on the hook. At
least there would be no one watching her. Unless….she spotted what looked like
a video camera on the ceiling.
Oh God!

“Aila,” Marcelo warned from outside. “Don’t make me come
in there. Get going.”

She shuddered at his tone. What would it be like if he
broke through the door mid-dressing? Would he ogle her body? Would she like it?
The rush of heat flooding her core answered that question.
Get a grip on your libido
,
she scolded herself,
shaking away her lustful thoughts.
You have a
boyfriend!

After she tried on the first outfit – a pair of plain
khaki hiking shorts and pink tank top with a built-in bra, she looked in the
mirror, turning this way and that. She had to admit it was gratifying to see
herself in the clothing before making a purchase.

Marcelo’s voice snapped her away from the moment. “Come,
Aila. Let me see.”

She rolled her eyes then stepped out of the dressing
room, knowing full well he would just come in if she didn’t.

His gaze raked over her body, intensifying with each
second. Instead of feeling self-conscious, she was actually aroused by this
bold show of sensuality. Her cheeks flushed and her throat suddenly felt dry.
He didn’t say anything, just nodded in what she guessed was approval.

She spun around, embarrassed by the warmth between her
legs. Right before she’d gone back into the dressing room, Marcelo’s eyes had locked
onto hers, sparkling with a hint of wicked desire. It was as if he knew exactly
what she was thinking. And what she was thinking was
so
not suitable for
a public dressing room. She almost collapsed on the floor when she shut the
door behind her. But she knew, in only a moment, Marcelo would be demanding
another show.

Everything she had tried on was serviceable clothing for
hiking – nothing particularly appealing about them. Marcelo had watched her
with a heated gaze that made her knees weaker and weaker each time she went
back into the dressing room. But he hadn’t made a sound.

On the fourth outfit – a red halter top dress she hadn’t
remembered picking out – he finally rose from the chair where he’d been sitting.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

She spun slowly, hiding a smile, wondering what he was
thinking.

He hissed in a breath. “Your ass looks magnificent.

Her stomach fluttered.

“One size smaller, I think. I’ll be right back.”

Then he spun on his heel and left her. Alone. He left
her.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god,” she chanted feeling the
familiar tightening in her chest. She stood there, frozen, outside the fitting
room stall.

“Hey, is that Erin?” she heard someone whisper from the
opening of the fitting room.

Looking in that direction she was mortified. Two girls
from one of her classes at the community college stared at her. They were far
enough away that a normal human wouldn’t hear their whispers, but with her fae
senses she could hear them as if they were standing next to her.

“She’s the weirdo that always freaks out when people talk
to her.”

“Oh, yeah,” the other girl whispered. “She had a panic
attack in trigonometry once. They had to call an ambulance. I think she takes
online classes now.”

“Hey,” the first one said. “Who’s that hot and dangerous
looking guy over there?”

“Oooh…yummy.”

With the attention off of her, Aila swung around and
walked back into the fitting room stall where she slumped into a pile on the
bench. At least five minutes went by and Aila had frozen in fear. She was
trapped. Marcelo had left her and she had no idea if he would be coming back. The
exits were so far away and she didn’t know how to reach them. Tears threatened
to spill onto her heated cheeks. She wanted to curl up and die.

Then she heard the stall door handle wiggle. It was
locked but in only a few seconds it burst open. In stormed Marcelo, his face a
mixture of concern and anger. He walked straight to her and leaned over,
placing his hands on the bench on either side of her body. His face was so
close to hers she could see her reflection in the black of his eyes.

He spoke softly but with clear authority. “I know why
you’re upset. But it’s time to stop sulking in self-pity and start acting like
the strong fae warrior that’s in your blood.”

“But –”

“You listen to me, Aila. You are not a frightened little
girl anymore. You are stronger, and smarter, and ten times more beautiful than
the girls you’re afraid of. And you are a goddamn supernatural! We don’t cower
and hide.”

“I can’t help it,” she admitted with a trembling voice. “I’m
scared.”

“Good. It means you’re not stupid and reckless like your
sister. There are things in this world to be afraid of, Aila. Sometimes it’s
only fear that keeps us alive. Fear tells us to run when we’re outmatched. But fear
is toxic. It can poison. It can maim. It can disable. So if you’re going to be
afraid,
querida
, make it something worth being
afraid of.”

He wrapped a hand around her upper arm and hoisted her to
her feet. “Now, you are going to walk out there with your head held high and purchase
these clothes.” He thrust several hangers of clothing into her hands.
“Understand?”

“By myself?” she asked, barely a whisper.

His voice softened. The fierceness in his brown eyes
melted to warmth. “All you need to worry about is getting from here to the
cashier’s desk. One foot in front of the other. Leave the rest to me.”

She was too stunned to speak but he seemed to be waiting
for an answer. She nodded.