Forbidden Fruit (16 page)

I pondered that. “So countries are like people, we are all made up of the same stuff, yet we have different personalities?”

He laughed, “That’s one way of putting it, yes.”

I rolled onto my back and gazed at the ceiling. “You know where I really want to go?”

“
Where’s that?” he asked twisting my hair around his fingers.

“
France.”

“
You should have went with Rose,” he suggested.

“
No, not Paris. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I would love to go there, but I really want to see the countryside. I want to see an old chateaux. I want to walk the halls and pretend I’m an eighteenth century courtier, dancing in a beautiful dress at a ball.”

He ran his hand over my cheek and bent down for a kiss. Then he whispered on my lips, “I’ll take you there one day.”

“
Really?” I perked up.

He grinned at my enthusiasm and then said, “But for now, I think you should get some sleep.”

I groaned, “But I thought you were going to stay until I fell asleep?”

“
I am.”

“
So then, if I don’t fall asleep, you won’t leave,” I postulated.

He chuckled and then swept me off the floor and carried me up the stairs. He placed me on my bed, and then crawled in beside me, wrapping both arms around me in the warmest, most comfortable embrace in the world. This has to be what heaven feels like, I decided.

My plan to stay awake only lasted a few more minutes as sleep took me under and I drifted off in a blissful slumber.

I woke with another serene smile on my face. I could get used to nights like that. I dreaded rolling over because I knew Michael was no longer there. He probably snuck out late last night and caught a red eye flight to Boston.

I rolled over anyway to see if I could at lease still see the indentation on the pillow where his head had been, or maybe savor the exotic scent that marked him unique. No indentation, but there was something there, sparkling in the early morning rays of light.

I sat up straight and rubbed my eyes. Then I gasped aloud.

On the pillow was a stunning diamond necklace with a large, deep blue heart-shaped pendant.
Wow
.

I picked it up, not entirely sure it was real. It was exquisite. Glittering diamonds reflected light as I turned it in my hand. They bordered the dark sapphire stone. It was mesmerizing. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and there was no way I could keep it. But it couldn’t hurt to try it on before I gave it back.

I hoped out of bed and scurried to my mirror. I placed the necklace carefully around my neck and admired it in the mirror. It was striking and lovely. Though I looked completely ridiculous wearing it with my pajamas, sporting a rats nest on my head.

I closed my hand over the stone and reminded myself he would only be gone for a couple days, though I realized I never actually asked when he would return. I decided I would wear the necklace until I saw him next, then I would have to return it.

School passed by painfully slow that day. I found myself hopefully expecting to see Michael in each of my classes though I knew he was gone. A girl can hope right?

Bailey caught up with me at lunch and asked about Michael’s absence.

“
He had to go out of town for a few days.” I could hear the poutiness in my own voice.

“
Sorry babe,” she gave me an empathetic frown.

“
Yeah, yeah, so how are you and Eric? Things seem to be going well,” I nudged her.

“
You could say that.” A dimpled grin covered her face. Then she sighed, “Oh Lily, I think I love him!”

“
Really?” I asked, not at all surprised. Bailey was an extremist, ‘go big or stay home’ was her motto in life and that included relationships.

“
Yeah, he gets me, you know? It’s like when we’re together the rest of the world just disappears.”

I thought about the way I felt with Michael. “I know what you mean,” I conceded.

She smiled at me. “You know, it’s been too long since we’ve had a girls’ night out. What do you say we go out Saturday, just the two of us, and get rip roaring drunk at my cousin’s bar?” Her eyes gleamed with that naughty excitement she got when we were bad.

An image of me sitting home all weekend, pining away for Michael, flashed through my mind. I could actually see myself curled up in the parlor chaise, watching the pendulum swing in the grandfather clock, over and over. I decided to take the more appealing road. “You know, I think that might be just the thing I need this weekend,” I decided.

“
It’s a date,” she winked as we split down the hallway for our last class of the day.

That night I tried to keep myself busy so I wouldn’t stay up all night thinking of Michael. Oh how I wished he were here. I never realized how lonely my life was until I met him. It wasn’t until he left that I really felt the full impact our relationship had on me.

I was in love. It was confusing and elating and magical all at the same time. I felt empty without him, as if he took a piece of my soul when he left. It’s scary that someone can have that sort of control over me.

After I filled ten pages about Michael in my journal, I put it aside. Writing about him only made me miss him more. Then I pulled out my old sketchpad, flipped to the next clean page and grabbed my black chalks. After ten minutes of staring at the blank white page, I closed it, and tossed in on my nightstand.

With a sigh, I got up, lit a bunch of candles, and then turned off the lights. I laid across my bed with my ear buds in and my iPhone playing a mix of upbeat songs. I stared at the ceiling for a long time, trying to suppress thoughts of Michael every time they appeared in my head, which was constantly.

The last song I remember hearing was Kings of Leon’s, ‘Your Sex is on Fire.’ Then I must have drifted off because I was suddenly not in my bedroom. I was flying.

My wings moved the air around me in a rhythmic motion, propelling me forward. I was soaring high above the city, watching cars race down the narrow roads and partygoers scurrying from one bar to the next. Then I turned east and flew out over the Cooper River, watching the moonlight dance over the water as the waves rippled the light. It was amazing. I was free.

It dawned on me then that I might could go anywhere I wanted. I knew exactly where I wanted to go, or rather who I wanted to go to. The problem was, I didn’t know how to find him. And anyway, could I really fly to Boston?

Suddenly, I heard a beastly sound in my ears. I spun around, but nothing was there. The sound was all around me now. The sounds were an unearthly mix of moaning and screeching. No, wait, they changed, they were now throat snarling sounds that threatened to rip me to pieces. I tried to scream in panic, but no sound would leave my lips. I could feel my mouth open and my throat push, but nothing happened.

My heart began to race and I tried to fly away, but I was stuck. Midair, hanging above the deep water below, clawed hands restrained me from every side.

I thrashed around, and felt their claws cut deep into my arms and legs. Searing pain pierced my skin with every movement.

I finally screamed.

I bolted up right in my bed, heart racing and sweat covering my body. That god-forsaken noise was still there, all around me. I jerked my head around wildly before I realized I still had my ear buds in. I ripped them out with force that sent my iPhone skidding across the hardwood floors.

How could that noise be coming from my phone? I certainly had no music that sounded like that.

I took in my surroundings. It was dark. All the candles had blown out, and the French doors were wide open. Curtains blew in the night wind as I examined every corner and nook in my room. I was expecting to find something. I could feel it. There was something here, something malevolent. I also knew that if I looked out my window, I would see the grim reaper staring up at me.

Or maybe he was in my house. At that moment, I heard something walking around up stairs, which was an oversized, dusty storage attic.

I panicked. I knew I had to get help.
Call the police
. That’s it, I will call and then hide until they come and search the entire house.

My phone still lay across the room on the floor. I gave it a hard look and decided I didn’t want to touch it considering the noises that had come out of it.

Shit.

My only other option was to get out of the house. A sudden adrenaline rush had me on my feet and charging for the door. I didn’t look around the house, I just kept moving my feet down the hall and then the stairwell, holding on to the childish hope that if I couldn’t see it, then it couldn’t see me. I held my breath as if the minute effort would help me go unnoticed.

When I hit the bottom stair, I heard a thundering roll of footsteps descending the stairs behind me. I let a helpless whimper escape.

I stopped worrying about being quiet then, and ran into the foyer and snagged my keys off the table.

I fought with the dead bolt on the old front door with shaky hands, slick with fear. A savage growl radiated from the bottom of the stairs, barely feet behind me.

I didn’t look back.

My wet, uncoordinated hands finally turned the bolt and flung the door open. I darted out into the night straight for my car. I jumped into the viper, cursing as I had another shaky dilemma when I went to insert the key in the ignition. I screamed aloud in panic because I knew what ever was chasing me had to be here now.

When the engine roared to life, I gunned it in reverse down the driveway and then swung the front end into the road. I heard a ding and some scraping of bushes, but I didn’t care about the car. I was about to die.

When the viper kicked into gear down the battery, I chanced a glance in my rearview mirror. Nothing. There was nothing but the street behind me. Nothing was following me.

I realized I had no idea where the police station was. Since I had never been in trouble, I had never had a reason to go there. I did know where the fire department was though, so that’s where I drove.

One minute later, I pulled into the front of the old fire station and cut the engine. I jumped out of the car and ran through the tall garage that was open, skirting a fire truck and pounded on a door in the back.

Thankfully I heard footsteps on the other side, seconds later.

The door opened. “Can I help you ma’am?” an older gentleman with a protruding belly and a handle bar mustache asked. His eyebrows raised so high on account of my abrupt assault on his door that they were almost lost in his receding hair line.

“
There’s someone in my house,” I said breathless. “I ran and then drove all the way here…” I leaned on my knees, panting.

“
Now, calm down just a minute there,” he said with his palms toward me. “Someone broke into your house?”

“
Yes!”

“
Are they there now?” he asked.

“
I don’t know, he was there when I left just a minute ago,” I waved my hand in the general direction of the battery.

“
Okay, now where do you live?” he asked looking like he was finally going to take some action.

“
322 East Battery,” I said in relief. Finally, help.

“
Jim! Scotty!” he called up the stairs behind him. I heard footsteps pounding around the spiral stairwell and saw two firemen who looked to be in their early thirties, just as perplexed by her visit as the first.

“
This is…” he turned to me, “What did you say your name was honey?”

“
Lily.”

One of the firemen did a once over, and for the first time, I realized I was standing there in my pajamas. A barely there tank and shorts.

“
Miss Lily here says there is a man who just broke into her house, 322 East Battery. I want you two to go check it out. Call the PD on the way, have them meet you there.”

The dark haired one said, “Yes sir.”

“
Now what did the man look like sweetie?” the older man asked.

“
I…I didn’t see him, I just heard him,” I said, feeling completely unhelpful.

“
So you didn’t actually see anyone?” he asked.

“
No.”

“
Then how do you know it was a man?”

“
Well…” he got me. I really didn’t know, did I? “There has been a man in a hooded robe lurking around the house lately. I assumed it was him when I heard someone.” I blurted out my fear without consideration as to how absurd it sounded.

The older man asked, “Did you report this to the police?”

“
No, I…” I realized that I was looking like a total idiot.

“
Alright,” he decided, already skeptical of my claim. “We will check it out. You can stay here until we clear the house.”

He led me into a small office as the two younger firemen prepared to leave. He waved at a small table, “Help yourself to some coffee if you’d like darlin’.”

“
I’m good thanks.” I sat in one of two wooden chairs facing his desk.

He sat behind the rickety old desk with a puff of air escaping his seat cushion, and then straightened some papers on his desk. “Excuse the mess, we usually don’t have visitors at this time.”