Take Me To Your Reader: An Otherworld Anthology (9 page)

The silence in the Mercedes is definitely unwelcome, so I flip on the stereo and put the accelerator to the floorboard. The car rattles as it hits rocks and branches with bone-jarring effects. I clutch the steering wheel tightly and concentrate on the obscure road. There is only one thing for which I
'm fairly certain: I can't tell Stan or Dr. Gobel about this. They'll lock me up and I'll never see daylight again.

Through force of will, I make it to a paved street and turn onto it, pushing the SUV as fast as it
'll go. Tears drip from my jaw onto my damp shirt; I wipe then away roughly with the back of my arm, but my eyes never leave the road. I'm having a hard time staying within the lines. I'm desperate to stop the car, but too afraid to ease my foot off the accelerator. I keep riding the snake of blacktop, following its serpentine twists and turns, looking for the tail of the beast so that I can get away.

Street lamps illuminate a town ahead, the lights from which blur and elongate as I drive past. My eyes grow heavy from fatigue. A car passing me, going the other direction, honks furiously as I drift into the opposite lane. I correct the wheel, dodging back onto the right side. Yellow snake eyes appear ahead; as they grow nearer, they morph into the neon sign of a motel. Unable to go further, I pull off the road and park in the lot near the office. It
's a motor lodge; all the beige-colored doors on both levels face the wrap-around parking lot.

My forehead rests against the steering wheel as I gather the courage to exit the security of the car. After a minute of deep breathing, I lift my head, opening the car door and braving the short walk to the office. To my relief, the glass doors aren
't automated. I pull one open; the scent of coffee stains the air. The lobby is like a fishbowl with picture windows on three sides. I pass a rack of brochures by a fake potted plant and stop at the front desk. The night clerk is alone watching highlights of the Tigers' game on the news. He glances at me through black-rimmed glasses. I manage to mumble my way through procuring a room.

After I pass back the signed credit card receipt to him, he gives me a plastic key within a sleeve, saying,
"Room 110—through the doors—turn right—straight down."

"
Thank you," I murmur.

I exit the way I came in. Turning right, I pay attention to the numbers on the doors, watching them ascend as I pass each one. I stop in front of a door with a floodlight mounted above it. Locating room 110, I fumble with the keycard. A car door opens and closes near me.

"Violet," Mattie says softly from behind. My heart flutters with desire at the sound of his voice, and then it pumps harder with fear. The basic survival urge of fight or flight nearly overwhelms me. I have no fight left in me at the moment, so there is really only one option. I stiffen and hurriedly place the card in the lock, shoving the door open. "Wait, please!"

The anxiety in his voice makes me hesitate. I glance over my shoulder; he
's still bare-chested, wearing the damp, gray dress pants that belonged to Ellis.

"
How did you find me?" I ask, leaning against the doorframe for support.

"
I've been following you since you left." He uses his thumb to point over his shoulder at his Escalade next to the Mercedes.

"
I didn't see you."

"
I didn't want to scare you, so I didn't use my headlights. I was afraid you'd wreck."

"
Couldn't you just use your super-alien powers to levitate my car and save me?" I ask, my voice thin and raspy, sarcasm my only weapon. 

"
I don't know—maybe—I couldn't risk it. You're too important to me. I'm a little weak right now."

I pale because he
's serious; the information unsettles me even more. "Are you okay?" I ask, worriedly.

He scoffs for a moment, highlighting the ridiculousness of my question, but answers,
"I'm physically fine, just weaker than normal."

"
Is Clyde okay?" I begin to panic. I left without finding out.

Mattie
's eyebrows rise in surprise before he says reassuringly, "He'll be okay. He heals quickly. So-wah contacted Ned. He'll take care of him. Are you okay?" Mattie asks.

I shake my head.
"I don't think so. No." My chin trembles for a moment before I clench my teeth and swallow past the lump in my throat. "I'm pretty sure I'm not okay. I don't think I can talk about it right now, Matteyo."

I make a move to enter the room, but pause and cringe in a bracing way when Mattie extends his hand to me and says,
"Wait."

He reads my fear and lowers his hand, balling both of them in fists. The starkness of his gaze roots me where I am as he comes closer. His shoulders round protectively towards me as his face nears mine.
"I'd never hurt you, Vi. Never."

I look into his blue eyes. His eyebrows rise slightly as he drinks in every inch of me, hesitating on the curvy parts of me that I know he likes the most. He
's so incredibly handsome that the effect is nearly blinding. At a foot taller than me he oozes raw, masculine power. It used to thrill me, and at the same time it made me feel safe—to be held in his arms—so wanted—so beloved. A part of me is desperate to feel his touch again, even after everything that has happened tonight. Loving him is slowly unraveling me.

"
Everyone thinks I'm crazy, Matt. I must be crazy," I say in a self-effacing way with a small hitch in my voice, "because the Mattie I knew would've told me who he was."

"
I wanted to tell you." His hand reaches out, leaning forward and tucking my hair behind my ear. His fingers linger in it.

"
Why didn't you?"

"
I calculated the risk and it was too high. Losing you was something I couldn't afford."

"
Why were you even with me? We're clearly not meant to be together."

He frowns at that.
"Do you remember the day we met?" he asks, his finger moving from my hair to the sensitive spot behind my ear. The feeling of his skin on mine is primal; it causes my heart to skip a beat with a growing ache for him.

"
Yes," I murmur. "I brought my students to tour your gaming facility at Source Products."

"
You did something else. You brought a gift with you."

I color in embarrassment and look away.
"I didn't know what to get you to thank you for the art grant you gave the school. I mean, what does one give a billionaire?" I ask softly.

He smiles for the first time and I have to reach out and place my hand on his outstretched arm to steady myself. He leans a bit closer to me, saying,
"I was about to go into a meeting with several heads from the automotive industry when my assistant brought your box into my office. I told Fitch to keep whatever it was without even opening it, but he said he'd already seen what it was and that I might regret it. He was right. "

"
It was just a small piece from the collection I was working on. It wasn't valuable," I say, thinking of the glass sphere that I'd made. I chose the orb for its symmetry and beautiful blue coloring; it had stratospheric cloud patterns woven into it and bursts of silver—my eyes open wide as a thought occurs to me.

"
Yes," Mattie nods intuitively when he hears my deep intake of breath. "The piece of blown glass you made is the mirror image of my light."

"
It's a coincidence," I breathe in a whisper, thinking about the light that grew in his palm this evening.

"
I calculated the probability; let's just say it's not even in the universe of coincidence."

"
Is that why you started pursuing me for a date?" I ask.

"
No. It's why I skipped my meeting to find you in the building. I had to interrogate several of my employees to locate you. Everyone who played a part in transporting your gift from the front desk in the lobby was questioned thoroughly. I didn't really start stalking you until after we met on the tour."

"
You mean when you pretended to be just another person taking the tour," I state, remembering how he had struck up a conversation with me as we walked from the lobby on the tour. He was charming and intelligent and so absolutely virile that I missed a lot of what the guide was saying, distracted as I was by his provocative gaze.

"
It's a good thing I did," he smiles ruefully, "I had the hardest time talking to you after you found out who I was. It was like you swallowed broken glass."

"
Extremely powerful men aren't really my type," I murmur.

"
I know, you told me several times. I've never had to work so hard to get a date." He squeezes the back of my neck gently, triggering a carnal shiver to slip through me. I missed him so much. Him. This Mattie. Not the scary one at the lake.

"
But you're so much more than what you've shown me, aren't you?" I challenge. "You're a ruler—you own slaves!" I say with tremendous disdain because it may be the worst offense in the litany of violations I've discovered.

"
I own one slave," he corrects me. "Clyde. And I only bought him to protect him. If I hadn't, he'd be dead now. If I free him, they'll kill him without my name to protect him."

"
Why?"

"
He's the heir to another district. His family, the Parishes, were unseated. He's a threat to the new ruling family there. They want him dead. He's my friend; I'm not going to let that happen." The corner of his lip tightens with contempt for the situation.

I raise my hand to his face, smoothing the spot near his lip with my thumb. The action is completely involuntary. When I realize it, I drop my hand. I exhale a long breath before I shake my head.
"This is all so crazy. You're like—" I struggle for a word.

"
An alien," Mattie provides softly. "We prefer to be called 'Willas.'"

I nod solemnly.
"Right...you're a Willa and I'm—what do you even see in me?"

"
You're kidding, right?" he asks, like it's an insane question. When I just stare at him, he says, "You showed me how to love, Vi. I thought I was incapable of it."

My eyes narrow perceptibly.
"That's because you'd been with May."

He shakes his head slowly,
"No. It's because I hadn't met you—I wasn't with you. You're the variable in this scenario. You're everything I could want. You're creative, intelligent—you have the best sense of humor. You're extremely beautiful and brave—loyal. After I found you, I would've done anything to protect my secret from you until I was positive you'd be able to handle it."

"
What if I can't handle it?" I ask in a tormented whisper.

His legs spread to either side of mine. Heat warms me through my t-shirt as he places his hand on the small of my back. His fingers on my nape move to entangle in my hair. Leaning down, he rests his forehead against my brow.
"You'll handle it. We're connected, you and I. You heard me calling for you. You came to find me. We're meant to be, Violet."

His forehead lifts from me as his lips draw nearer; mine part in response to their proximity. His mouth hovers a fraction away, but he doesn
't kiss me. He waits.

A need inside me builds. I crave him so much it
's a physical ache. It's more than lust. When he died, something shattered inside of me. Now that he's here, there's hope that what's broken can be mended.

Slowly, I inch forward. My breath catches when I feel the firmness of his lips against mine. It weakens my knees. I place my hand on his chest to steady myself; the strong beat of his heart plays for me beneath my fingertips. My face flushes.
"Mattie," I say against his lips.

He deepens our kiss, pulling hard on my bottom lip so that I feel it in my core.
"Don't ask me to let you go, Vi," he says with sultry roughness against my lips, "I won't."

Sliding his hand over me, he bends down and hooks it around the back of my knees, lifting me in his arms. He continues to kiss me senseless as he carries me over the threshold of my room, closing the door behind us with his foot. His elbow turns on the light. He walks unhurriedly to the bed; he
's seemingly enjoying holding me in his arms as he devours my lips with his.

He lowers me to the mattress gently; my head rests with seductive comfort against the plump pillow. He sweeps loose strands of my brown hair back from my face; his body lingers decadently above mine, teasing me with his proximity. He lies beside me on the bed. We face each other. I know that I must have a starry-eyed look because, without him touching me, I
'm having a problem again believing that he's real.

Mattie
's hand reaches for mine; he brings it to his lips and kisses it tenderly. Tears brighten my eyes instantly. He pulls something from his pocket, and before I know what it is, he's slipping it onto my finger. "I found this on the floor beside your purse back at my house. It must've fallen out."