Secret Worlds (92 page)

***

For the first thirty minutes on the plane, Silvia acts like a bird hiding from a cat. Then she nestles down and flips through the Sky Mall magazine.

I bump her elbow. “There's an alarm clock in there you need.”

“You're dumb,” she says.

“Coming from the girl I had to shackle to get on a plane.”

I have so many more comments, but now is not the time. The last thing I need is for her to make a scene. So we won't talk about the bathroom horror show.

She slants a glare at me, then turns a page.

I settle back in my seat and close my eyes. Then I realize I'm an idiot. I booked coach.

God dammit.

At least Silvia is too ignorant to notice. Like I want to hear that complaint for the next six hours.

Six hours. Then I'll be back in Phoenix. Back with Syd.

I don't know if this trip was even worth the effort. In the end, all I really learned was that Karl takes his genie secret pretty damn serious, and Silvia should never have any pets, ever. Not even a fish. She would probably find a way to drown that too.

As we claim our luggage in Phoenix and head out to find a taxi, I contemplate what Patricia Kerr had said. Her story explains the charity donation and offing Phil Ballantyne, but I still don't know what the rest of the back-to-back wishes have to do with anything.

***

Thankfully, my Accord is still in my carport. I return Silvia to the mansion by evening and text Syd as soon as I'm on the road back to Phoenix.

In town, tired as hell, but I'll be home in a couple of hours.

Syd doesn't reply. I figure I'll shower and sleep, then try again in the morning.

That plan goes out the window when I near my house and see a black and red Audi claiming the carport.

Syd is sitting on my porch in a long, off the shoulder shirt and black pants. I'm not sure there's a hotter sight in the world. Then she looks up and beams like she's been waiting all week for my return. Somehow, that takes everything up a notch.

There's no way I'm sleeping until I am reacquainted with her, inside and out.

She crosses the lawn as I step out of the car. “You sure that was only a week?”

I wrap her in a tight hug and lift her up, catching her mouth with mine. She sinks into me. I never want to leave town without her again.

As if homing in on the thought, she breaks apart and meets my gaze. “Run away with me. Please.”

I stare at her. Circuits overload. Something inside snaps. I can't reply. I can't really do anything.

The hope fades from her face. She looks away, her cheeks flushed. I want to tell her the issue is me, that I'm trapped here. But I already feel the figurative dagger wedging in the top of my head.

Can't tell her. 

Won't tell her.

The developing pain recedes. 

I follow her to the porch and unlock the door. She plucks up her purse from the steps, and we head straight to my bedroom without even exchanging a glance. I drop my bag inside the door and sit on the edge of the mattress. She's on my lap, facing me, before I blink.

“I missed you, Dim.” She brings me in for a kiss that awakens every part of me. And I do mean every.

I slide my arms around her shoulders and pull her toward me as I lie back on the bed. Our mouths kind of meld together, and I'm not sure whose tongue is doing what, but it's all freakin' fantastic.

She tries to pull away, but I grin and take her mouth again. Any resistance gives.

I don't know when Syd became mine. I'm not even entirely sure how that development happened, but it's forever. There is no other possibility. At least, not one I'm willing to consider right now.

She pushes herself up, and I let go. She's straddling my stomach. I can't decide if I want her to stay in this position or if I should flip her to the bed and ravish her body. 

She pulls her shirt up over her head, revealing a black bra.

I tug the front of it a little. “That needs to do a vanishing act.”

With a flurry of her fingers, it does. “Ta-da!”

“Hey, I got a trick for you.” My hands find their place on her hips. “I can take a rabbit out of your hat, and put it back in, and take it back out … ”

She grins, then tips her head back and arches her breasts out. She is so smooth and curvy and beautiful.

My goddamn rockstar.

I rub my hands over her nipples, eliciting soft moans from her, and trail my fingers down her stomach to the waist of her pants.

She straightens, lifting one leg over me and sits on her knees on the mattress. I tuck my hands behind my head and watch as she works off the rest of her clothes. The best thing about Syd's body is the fact it's mine. The thought of sharing her does something to my brain not too unlike the hum.

She crawls over me, naked and gorgeous, and massages me through my jeans. My eyes close. I want to urge her to bypass all this and get to rockin' but god damn. I missed the attention.

She undoes the button and zipper, but like the tease she is, she goes straight to taking off my shirt instead of where I want her to focus. The warmth of her breasts brushing my side and chest sends me into overdrive.

I yank off the rest of my clothes. Then I pick her up as I stand and push her back against the wall. She gives a surprised gasp. Her legs wrap around my waist. Her fingers dig into my back as I slide inside. She tenses like she thinks I'm going to drop her. I've got her wedged between me and the wall, though. She isn't going anywhere.

After a minute, she relaxes into the thrusting. Her head lulls forward and rests on top of mine. She grows wetter and warmer.

I want to bang her until one of us is unconscious.

Her grip on me tightens, her body clenching in all sorts of places. I lean against her, struggling to hold her up as I finish deep inside her.

Then I turn and place her back on the bed, her legs draped over the edge. I kneel between her thighs and kiss down her stomach until the twinges dissipate. Her fingers slide through my hair then trail over the back of my neck. A pleasant chill winds down my spine.

With a solid kiss on her belly button, I raise to my feet then scoot her up the bed a little as I crawl over her. My mouth takes her neck, her jaw, her breasts. I want to taste every part of her.

I nestle between her legs. She wraps around my waist again and rocks, slow and steady.

My lips linger over hers, and I whisper, “I'm not done with you yet.”

She smirks and grinds deeper. 

I take her again on the bed. Despite the exhaustion, my body is raging to be a part of hers. She cries into my neck, and I revel in the feel of her shuddering and gasping against me.

We kiss until calm takes over. Then I pull her close, and we nestle together in silence. I like that we don't have to talk about anything. We can just be.

I fade in and out of sleep, aware of her deep breathing and the way we fit together. And it's pretty damn awesome.

After a moment, Syd lifts her head. “Hey, where's my apple?”

I smile and use my hand to press her back to my shoulder. We are going to lie here forever.

She props onto her elbows. “Dimitri. Where's the apple?”

I glance at her, my eyes heavy. “It was a really . . . chaotic … trip. I forgot it.”

“You forgot it?” Her voice is sharp.

Sharp enough I open my eyes again. She is scowling, lines in her neck tense.

“Syd, it really was a crazy trip. I'm sorry.”

She scrambles off the bed.

I squint, mind groggy. “Are you … getting dressed?”

“No, Dimitri,” she says with a jab of anger. “I'm leaving.”

I sit, mind spinning. What the hell happened?

She turns to me, fully clothed. “Screw you.”

Then she's out the bedroom door, slamming it behind her. 

I pull on pants and stumble after her. “Syd, wait! What's going on?”

We come to a halt in the living room. She stands by the front door, her eyes and nose red from fighting back tears.

I try to understand what I missed, but I feel like I didn't get the memo. “What I do?”

“Nothing.” She yanks open the front door.

There is no way this is happening. Just minutes ago, we were content. More than content—happy. 

Now she's ready to walk out the door.

I go numb in a detached kind of way. I don't know what I did. I don't know why she's leaving. So I just stand there.

She glances over her shoulder at me. Tears stream down her face, and her expression is like she is being made to go. Like she wants to stay, but can't.

I find I'm speaking, though I'm not really thinking. “It wasn't going to happen, was it?”

She swallows hard, visibly. “What?”

“I can't keep up with everything.” The words just come, the ones I've been stomping down. “I can't be here when you need me. I can't runaway to Italy. I can't even go to New Mexico for a weekend.”

She stares at me, door still wide open revealing the night. If she steps out into it, she will never return. 

“I can't change anything, no matter how angry it makes me.” I lower my head. “If you stayed, you would have to give up everything. Your life, your band, your freedom.”

“My what?” Her eyes narrow, but it's like she's trying to see inside my head because my words aren't making any sense.

I wish she could to read my mind. It's the only way she'll ever know the entire truth.

“I don't have a band.” She takes a step back indoors, but there's no reconciliation in it. “Why would you think I have a band?”

I hesitate. “You told me. At the bar, when we met. You told me you were in a small band or something.”

“No, I did not.” She halts. Then she laughs but it's bitter. “You think I'm … in a band? What on Earth gave you that idea? My clothes?”

I'm back to just staring at her. My mind reels, trying to recall the exact moment, the exact verbiage, when she told me about her music.

She never did. Nothing even close. What the hell is wrong with me?

“You can't judge people by how they look, Dimitri. A band—are you serious?” She shakes her head. “My father is the second oldest of four brothers, and everyone holds at least one PhD. They all try to outdo the other. I just finished my bachelors in mythology, and I'm getting ready to start a dual masters in sociology. When I finish, I'm going for my doctorate. 

“This is all my family cares about. My grandmother can't stand the way her sons treat each other. She's disgusted by it, so she left for New Mexico. It wasn't far enough, Dim. That's how awful they are. Their own mother moved to Italy to get away from them. I wanted to go too … but I stayed.”

She looks at the floor, lost in thought.

I want to tell her that I'll take her to Italy. Or at least tell her why I can't. I would settle with anything at this point except what is happening.

Syd is leaving.

And I can't stop her.

She finally looks up. She's not angry anymore, but the disappointment is undeniable.

“You don't know anything about me.” A frown pulls at her face. “Nothing at all.”

“I do now,” I say, lamely. 

It doesn't matter if I do know her. She will never know me. The only fair thing to do is let her leave. She'll cry, and then she'll rationalize that I'm a loser. Then she'll move on.

At least one of us will. I'm not sure I can, or that I even want to.

“It doesn't matter anymore.” Her voice is barely more than a whisper. “All I wanted was an apple.”

I grit my teeth, my hair falling in my face, willing her to understand why I'm silent. If I can be trapped in a genie bond then it can't be too much to hope for one spark of telepathy before this situation shatters completely. 

Whether it's too much or not, the spark doesn't happen.

She continues to stare at the floor. “Aphrodite had many suitors. People claim it's because she was beautiful, but I always thought there was more to her than that. Whatever the reason, she had a long history of being courted. Dionysus fell in love with her, and to prove it, he created the golden apple and gave it to her.” 

Syd uses her hand to wipe away a few tears lingering on her cheeks. “It wasn't about the apple, Dim. I just wanted to know that you thought of me outside of the bedroom. And you don't.”

With that, she leaves. I continue to stand there long after the front door closes behind her. 

***

The urge to call Syd has me tapping my fingers over my phone. Maybe I should let her go, but I can't. I don't actually press any buttons though because calling her right now will just make her angry. 

If I don't push my luck, I might be able to work out something before she starts to hate me.

I can't blame her. I would hate me, too. I never acted like anything more than the one-night stand who kept her on speed dial.

I sit on my couch—it's not even my couch; it belongs to Karl, like every aspect of my life—staring at my phone. My leg bounces as I debate when I should call her and what I should say. Then I pull to my feet and pace the living room, back and forth, resentment and despair growing with each step.

If I call her, I have to give her an explanation.

If I don't call her, she will believe that I really don't care. That I only think of her when I want to go spelunking in her caves.

I grind my teeth as I continue to stalk across the room. There was always so much more to her. If I was just after easy parking, I could get with Silvia Strange. Hell, if I was smart, I would have done so and gained an upper hand in the future arrangement.

With a sigh, I collapse onto the couch again. I don't want Silvia. I don't want anyone else, just Syd. She gives me a little slice of another existence and makes me think it could be mine someday too.

She really is my rockstar.

Or was.

I don't text her, because I don't know what to say to bring her back.

I dress and sit on the couch. I'm not really awake, but I'm not asleep either. Somewhere in the zone, I think: This is it. This is the rest of my life. I will sit here until I am called to action. 

Maybe killing and kidnapping won't be so bad now. I don't care anymore.

When my vision tunnels, I'm not surprised. Not even worried.