The Contradiction of Solitude (15 page)

“Sorry, we’re almost there. I need to do something about this road. It’s lethal.”

I didn’t have time to think about what he meant because the car suddenly broke through a clearing and came to a stop just at the edge of a sandy expanse of beach.

I leaned forward, peering out the window, taking it all in.

The glittering water jutted out in front of us and then looped around the giant, rocky cliffs. We were surrounded by trees on all sides, hidden away.

It was wild and untouched except for a small rundown looking house just on the by the water. Sitting in the shadow of a giant rock outcrop. An old wheelbarrow leaned up against a tree. A rough fire pit encircled by large stones was in front of us, an old plastic lawn chair beside it.

“Where are we?” I asked, getting out the car, still amazed by the harsh beauty all around.

Elian came and stood behind me. I felt his chest brush against my back. He leaned forward. I leaned back. We touched.

We stayed.

“Half Moon Quarry. They used to mine for limestone here in the early part of the twentieth century. Then there was a series of fatal accidents. Men drowned. The horses that used to power the equipment fell over dead. The locals started saying it was cursed. They abandoned everything and left.” Elian pointed off into the distance and I could see piles of old metal twisted beneath the trees. “That’s what’s left. And the house. The foreman lived there at the height of the mining. It’s been empty for the last sixty years.”

The quarry was still, not a movement on the water. A rock fell from the cliff above, splashing into the water. The place was quiet. Unnaturally so. I noticed a
Dangerous. No Swimming
sign just up the beach.

“Don’t tell me people actually swim here.” I nodded toward the posted warning.

“It used to be a popular swimming spot back in the sixties. But after a bunch of kids drowned, going too deep, they started having local police patrol the area to keep people away. There’s a steep drop off only ten feet out into the water. It goes down probably thirty feet. They don’t even allow people to fish here.”

Elian tugged on my hand, snatching my attention. “Come on,” he said softly, as though not wanting to disturb the quiet that had descended between us.

I followed him towards the house. He walked up onto the porch and opened the door. We stepped inside, and I was surprised by how clean and tidy it was. It was filled with new looking furniture. There was even a television sitting on a small table in the corner.

“You live here,” I surmised, closing the door behind me. The air smelled faintly of lemon, as though Elian had employed all manner of cleaning products before bringing me here.

Elian took my purse and dropped it on a small velvet covered chair just inside the entryway.

“I do. It’s mine. I bought it six months ago. You’re the first person I’ve ever brought here.”

I wasn’t shocked by his admission. I had expected it. He was sharing with me something personal. Something secret. As though by compulsion. Around me, I knew that Elian was learning he couldn’t help himself.

This fed something dark and dangerous inside me.

Because Elian Beyer made me crave things.

Other things.

Normal things.

Things that were bad for my soul.

Elian wasn’t the first.

But he was the most special.

And that could be very, very terrifying for a woman like me.

“I like it,” I told him. And I did. I walked until I was standing in front of the window that overlooked the massive limestone quarry. The solitude was enticing.

“I’m glad,” Elian replied.

We stood quietly for a time, neither expecting anything, wanting nothing.

We just
were.

“I bought your guitar today,” I said rather suddenly, my voice too loud. It was jarring in my ears.

“I figured that was you,” Elian said, handing me a bottle of beer. I hadn’t asked for one and I didn’t particularly want it. I didn’t drink. I liked having a clear head. Because too often it was muddled by other things.

“You did?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Why did you buy it?” Elian posed his own question, ignoring mine.

I shrugged, taking a drink of beer and instantly regretting it. I put the bottle down on the windowsill.

When I didn’t answer him, I thought he would move on. This time he didn’t. His unpredictability was shaking me.

“Why did you buy it, Layna? I need to know.” Elian was emphatic. Frantic almost. His hair fell into his eyes and all I could see of his dancing green eyes were slits of color lost in the dark.

“Why does it matter?” I countered. Elian clenched his hands, the muscles in his neck protruding and pronounced. I knew that these were his riddles. I knew the price he would have to pay to relinquish them.

But I wanted to devour his secrets. All of them. Until I was bloated and full on the things he wanted no one else to discover.

“That piece was…special.” His words leaked out of him. Dribbling into a puddle on the floor.

“It’s special to me too,” I said.

Elian’s jaw relaxed and his fingers uncurled, no longer angry firsts.

“I’ll take care of your star, Elian. It’s safe with me,” I assured him. Safe. Safe. Safe.

Elian turned away from me and picked up his beer, drinking the last drops.

“It’ll be dark soon. Let’s go light a fire,” he said, his voice thick and coarse. I assumed he was embarrassed by his outburst. A typical male response to emotion. I was sadly disappointed to see him displaying it.

Then he advanced across the room and reached out as though to grab ahold of my face. I was shocked. I went immobile. I hadn’t expected it. Elian was unreadable and the flutter in my chest was a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

What was he going to do?

If he dared touch me, he’d lose everything. I’d never met a man so ready for his annihilation.

Then he held me. My face cradled in his hands.

He wasn’t gentle or delicate but rough and determined. His thumbs pressed into my cheeks. I could feel the pads against the curve of bone beneath the skin.

I pulled my breath in through my teeth, a soundless hiss. I walked toward the one place I shouldn’t go…he had told me to stay. I didn’t.

I went anyway…

Green eyes stared long and hard into coal black. Lips moved with words not spoken aloud. The air was thick and warm. Fingers digging their way inside. Taking all of me even though I wasn’t giving.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

I closed my eyes.

He kissed me.

Electric. Charged.

Sliding lips. Tangled tongues. Hands never moving but mouths everywhere.

Elian bit down on my bottom lip. Hard. Brutal. I tasted the blood and I tasted
everything.

There were sounds unlike anything I had ever heard. From him. From me.

Slick and wet.

“Let me in,” Elian whispered against my bleeding lips.

Let him in.

Let him in.

Let
me
in.

I pulled away, breathing heavy and quick. I felt dizzy. Like I was floating.

Up to the stars.

I covered my mouth with my hand and realized I was shaking. I pulled my fingers away and saw the bright red.

Elian saw it too. He didn’t apologize.

I was glad.

I would have hated him for it.

T
he letter came just as it always did. On the third day of July.

Same day.

Every year.

The day of my awakening.

A dawning.

The day I entered hell.

The day
he
was taken away.

It fell through the slot in my door, landing on the rug that muffled the noise of my beast.

I knew the day. I woke up feeling it in my bones.

Shaking. Sweating. Hard to breathe.

I picked up the pile of mail and carried it into the kitchen. I carefully sorted until I found the one that I knew was there.

Cream colored envelope. Scrawled, barely legible handwriting. My name spelled out in careful letters. I pressed it to my chest, then lifted it to my cheek. I could feel the words inside, pressing against my skin.

Their promises.

Their affection.

Their doom.

I purposefully folded the letter that I would never read into a perfect square and walked back to the room where I slept. I pulled the flower-patterned box from beneath the bed and opened it.

I placed the folded square on top of all the others.

I stared down at the remnants of my love. My life. My future.

And then I closed the lid.

“Hi.”

He was there.

The push and pull twisted me into complicated knots. Confusion. I felt it. For the first time, I felt doubt.

“Hi.”

We looked at each. Elian was wearing dirty jeans and battered shoes. His shirt was stained and looked as though he had slept in it. I thought about him rolling in unclean sheets and felt…
sad.

“I had fun last night,” he said, casting a look around, terrified of being overheard. And perhaps hoping at the same time.