The Black Onyx Pact (50 page)

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Authors: Morgana D. Baroque

BOOK: The Black Onyx Pact
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«I'm sorry, Claude, but a woman should stay with the man she loves.»

She closes the door and runs away.

Claude gets out of the car and starts calling her loudly, angrily. But Sibylle runs with a big smile on her face, enjoying that new freedom. Yes, because finally she feels free.

Free!

Now she knows what to do, now she knows where to go, and above all she knows what she wants: Drakkar.

It's a wonderful feeling to know what one wants and it's even more wonderful to be free to have it!

Free!

Free to follow her instinct, free to linger in her passion, free to do what makes her happy. And the further she runs away from Claude the further she runs away from mediocrity, from the memories of loneliness, from the pain of a past now gone. She runs, runs without feeling fatigue, despite she starts to feel a constant pain in her chest, which forces her to breathe through her mouth. The phone starts to ring again and she answers without slowing her running.

«Sibylle, Verdâtre just decided to fly away! Oh, it's really beautiful!»

Sibylle smiles and hangs up, running breathlessly and making people turning to look at her. Many wonder where she is going with that desperate hurry, with those shoes in her hand and a happy smile on her lips. Everybody understands that she is running to someone she loves, and many wish her luck. She raises her hand to thank them, without stopping her crazy running. The ears pulsate and the thighs begin to pinch, she scratches them to find relief but soon she doesn't care anymore of those little annoyances. She jumps a fence and runs on a public meadow, looking at the great road nearby which leads to the Eiffel Tower. She pauses to catch her breath and in that moment she hears the roar of a motorbike. She raises her head and sees Drakkar passing by at high speed just before her eyes there, on
Avenue de Nations Unies
!

She starts to run again, calling him loudly. She runs on the sidewalk along the road, under the gaze of astonished people in the cars.

«Romain! Romain!» she cries desperately.

“Please, hear me! Please, turn around! I'm here, Romain, I'm coming to you, my love! I want to be with you...”

Tears of emotion and fear wet her cheeks. She is happy to be free, but at the same time she is afraid to be rejected by the man she loves. Well, that was the risk, a risk she is willing to take to have him. She runs, calls his name aloud and now she also waves.

But she realizes that as soon as he would have turned to
Pont d'Iéna

the bridge which leads to the Eiffel Tower

she couldn't reach him anymore. She stops and shakes her head, feeling frustrated. She almost falls to her knees, but then her face lights up when she sees that the traffic light turned red, just before he could pass.
The man stops to wait for the green, with his feet on the ground and his arms folded, as usual. Behind him a long line of cars and on the right a top open tour bus. Drakkar takes a deep breath, trying to control the nausea at the thought of Claude touching and kissing her lovely Si...

«
Señor? Señor!
»

The Spanish boys calling him from the bus distract him from his thoughts. He turns to look at them: they are indicating behind him.

«
Mira la chica loca! Está llamando!
»

Drakkar looks in the side mirror and cannot believe his eyes when he sees Sibylle running to him. He turns to look at her, but doesn't get off the bike. The Spanish tourist on the bus rejoice when they see her arriving to him, now exhausted, barely able to stand. Even those in the cars are interested in them.
Sibylle stops almost in front of the bike, perhaps fearing that he might leave, then she bends down to catch her breath again, motioning him to wait. She puts her red shoes on.

Drakkar is impassive

almost unemotional

and some Spanish guys comment his rude behavior, but maybe he has his own reasons to act like that. Tens of Spanish tourists are watching at them in respectful silence from the top of the open bus. Sibylle stands up and looks at that black helmet on which she cannot even see a reflection of his eyes.

«What are you doing here?» asks Drakkar with a firm voice.

The tourists look at their guide, a distinguished lady who softly translates what the two are saying.

«I'm here because I love you, Roro.»

As soon as the lady translates what Sibylle just said the tourists emit a long
“aww”
of tenderness. Meanwhile the traffic light turns green, but no one moves. Some people get off the car and go near them to hear better what they are saying, but keeping at a discreet distance to not interfere.

Drakkar stares at her for a really long time.

«What do you want from me, Sibylle, tell me. Are you looking for reassurance? Are you looking for sex?»

The woman smiles, making his heart beat faster.

«No, Romain, I'm not looking for anything anymore. I found what I was looking for, I no longer have any desire. Well, I actually have one: to be with you.»

He remains silent looking at her while she gets anxious waiting for him to say something. Hilariously even everyone else seem to get anxious during that waiting. She understands his doubts and shows him her hand.

«I have returned the wedding ring to Claude because I don't belong to him anymore. I want to belong to you, if you want me too, Romain. I want to be with you because you're the only person in the world with whom I feel free, with whom I don't need to restrain myself. I don't want to be with a man, I don't want to be with someone, I want to be with you, Romain. You're right to not trust me, I don't trust myself either: I'm clumsy, I mess things up all the time, I'm constantly confused. And yet, despite all my flaws, you never accused me, you never direct an unfounded reproach to me, you never tried to imprison me, you never tried to belittle me. The only thing you diminished have been my fears, making me realize how stupid they were. I'm grateful, you made me feel alive, but it isn't for gratitude that I am here, Romain. I'm here in front of you because I don't want to be anywhere else except with you. I'm asking you to give me a chance to show you what's inside me, to show you what I feel towards you. And if things won't work I'll disappear from your life.»

«And if they'll work?»

Sibylle accentuates her lovely smile and caress the helmet as if she were caressing his face.

«Then we'll be together until the end, until we become old, walking hand in hand along the Seine, dancing and remembering the old days.»

He remains impassive but then shakes his head.

«Sibylle, we lived incredibly emotions together, but we are little more than strangers.»

«Fair enough, let's begin from the beginning then.» She extends her hand. «Sibylle Lunedor.» says introducing herself.

The man looks at her for a long time, while the traffic light turns red again. All those behind are in respectful silence, as well as the Spanish tourists on the bus.

Finally Drakkar makes his decision: he loosens his arms and he takes off the helmet...

Sibylle opens her mouth and holds her breath when she sees that beautiful face! She has never seen anything so charming, so masculine, so sensual!

The man shakes her hand and smiles.

«Romain Faucon.» he says introducing himself.

He moves the same hand to touch her cheek as she stares at him with a dreamy gaze. He grabs her arm and draws her to him. The hug that follows is one of the most intense and warm that both have ever received. And ever given.

The tourists on the bus begin to clap loudly while the people behind cheer, commenting on the vagaries of love.

Romain holds now Sibylle's face in his big hands. Both have tears in their eyes.

«In order to have memories in the future, we must create them in the present.»

She nods and chuckles in tears.
He kiss her deeply. Those perfect lips pushed together, those hungry tongues, that warm breathing, everything is perfect in that kiss. They move away and giggle. He takes another helmet from under the seat and hands it to her.

«Let's give a beginning to this story, my
petite leveret

She nods and wears the helmet.

«Where are we going?»

«Where do you want to go, babe?»

«Somewhere romantic.»

He laughs.

«Baby, we're in Paris.»

«You're right. Take me anywhere, then.»

She mounts hugging him from behind and laying her head on his back. The traffic light turns green and Drakkar speeds away with a deafening roar, turning to the bridge ahead.

Sibylle looks at the Eiffel Tower and smiles.

“Thank you, now I understand that it doesn't matter where you go, but with whom.”

The black sport motorbike dashes at the foot of the tower, running through the streets while the morning sun illuminates the city with a golden light.

Drakkar closes his eyes for a moment: he has never been so happy. Not even when his grandfather bequeathed the jeep to him. Hugged to him there is the woman he loves, the woman he wanted from the first moment he saw her. His Sibylle. He would have treated her with respect, he promises to himself to make her happy every day of his life, he would always made her smile. Life was really strange: till that morning he thought he'd lost her forever, and now she is hugging him tight, so in love with him to be able to abandon the obsession of her husband.

He smiles and accelerates, passing right in front of the Club D building.

Saphir is coming down the stairs heading to the car that awaits her. A man opens the car door, but she stops when she hears the thunderous sound of a motorbike. Drakkar and his beautiful black motorbike run in front of her honking twice. The man waves and also the woman behind him waves happily at her. Saphir frowns for a second and watches the two disappear in a few seconds then she understands and smiles. When she gets in the car, Yves looks at her in the rearview mirror.

«If I may,
madame
, it's nice to see you smiling early in the morning. Good news, I suppose.»

«Yes, a dear friend of mine has finally got what he deserved while another reprehensible man lost what he did not deserve.»

The man smiles.

«You know what I think,
madame
? I believe that each of us will get what we deserve, soon or later.»

He shifts the gears and departs heading to the Palace.
His elegant white satin shirt lifts a little on his arm showing for a moment the tattoo on his left wrist: the number
11
.

 

 

 

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