Twisted Magic (14 page)

Hutch shook his head, taking my abuse.  “Thanks for that. Now are you ready to listen?”

I nodded. I didn’t have anything else to do on the walk home. I feared if I didn’t have something to take my mind off of
Audrey,
I would find her and set her on fire as I dangled her over the ocean.

Well, was he going to say anything? Or were we going to walk in this dreaded silence. I wasn’t the best at conversation, but I started the conversation anyway.
Obviously,
Hutch wasn’t as confident as he liked to portray, whatever it was that he wanted to say to me had
proven
difficult in
being said
.

This made it even harder to figure him out. One minute he was this almost
too
confident guy who never let up, and
now
he was quiet and broody—like Slade.

“My house is not even a block away. Maybe we could finish this some other time.” I suggested.

“I’m gathering my thoughts,” he said. “It’s not
the
easiest thing to come out and say. And quite honestly, I worry I could be wrong about you.”

“Wrong about
me,”
I raised an eyebrow. If he was thinking I was a neurotic
,
semi depressed chick he was right on the money. Other
than
that I didn’t know what he was trying to say, I wished he would just come out and say it already.

We came to a stop in front of my house. I watched him take in his surroundings. I wondered if his house was average or something like Nona’s. Or did he live in
an
Rv
like Slade.

“So this is where
you
rest
your
head at night.” He gazed all the way up to the roof.

“This is where,” I plopped down on the stairs, and patted the spot next to me.

“You’re not going to invite me in?” He brought a hand to his chin, stroking his five o’clock shadow as if this was hard to believe. I wondered how many girls offered up their homes for him when he wandered around the world. He took a seat giving up on
worming
his way into my house.

“I hardly know you. And you don’t know this, but my
father. He's
got the temper of a
pit-bull
. He hates guys.” I laid it on thick. It wasn’t the truth, but he didn’t know that.

“What about your mother?” He leaned in eager to hear more. I looked off. He drew my face back with a soft tug of
my
chin. “You like to evade the questions a lot. For once, do
me
the honor of letting me get to know you?”

He was like a chivalrous knight. His vocabulary nothing I ever heard of. I came from the south and was planted in California. He came from everywhere and had a
British
father. It was strange if you asked me.

I blinked, giving a simple shrug to show that it really didn’t matter one way or another. “She’s just…
home, in
Georgia, with my little brother and her new boyfriend.”

“And that makes you feel rejected.” He looked at me.

“That’s one word to describe it.” The other word, and there were a few, was pissed. I was pissed that she gave up on me. That it didn’t matter to her if she heard from me or not, like the old photographs that Dad worried so much
about,
I was just a memory.
One
you didn’t have the balls to throw away, but one that you didn’t mind shoving under your bed or in your closet so you didn’t have to deal with it.

“I didn’t have the greatest time as a kid either.”

“How old are you anyway?” I asked, glad to change the subject.

“Twenty
three,
and
yourself?”

“Eighteen.” Although most days I felt like a
forty-year-
old with
all that I had been through. I had already
seen
all the
grief
and heartaches one went through in life—thanks to my parents and Slade.

I stared off, concentrating on the
massive
moon that hung in front of us providing a breathtaking backdrop as it sparkled against the water. I looked back down to find Hutch twirling that ring on his finger. I reached out and grabbed his hand, bringing it closer so I could get a
better
look at it. He watched me, enjoying the contact and the attention I was finally giving
him; I
was sure.

I touched the ring.
The deep etchings proving there was more to it than just a simple piece of metal adorning his long finger. “What kind of ring is this?” I studied the black stone.

“It’s runic.” He slid it down his finger, holding it in the palm of his hand. “The x stands for love, the m is trust, the p is joy and the k stands for passion.
I leaned in getting a better look at it.

“The circle is the symbol of the wheel of life, of endings and
beginnings. Of
life and spirit, it’s a connection with the infinite which brings all things together and holds them fast.”

I blinked, staring at him confused. None of that ma
de any sense to me. I had rings.
I never put that much though
t
into mine. His jewelry seemed to have a rich history. Next I wondered if he was going to tell me it decoded things
too,
or maybe it transported him to magical words. Better yet
,
maybe one day they would make a movie about it.

“You don’t understand.” He sighed. I took the ring from him, slipping
it
over my middle
finger. It
was way
too
big.

“No, I can’t say that I do.” I handed the ring back. He took my wrist, trailing a finger across the black heart again. The heart he pointed out was a part of black magic.

“Your tattoo and my ring have a lot in common.” I immediately retracted my arm from his grip, but he wasn’t willing to let me run away again. He
didn’t let go of my arm like I expected
him too
.

“I am not going to let you run away this time.”

“
You’re
scaring me,” I told him, looking back at my house.

He released me. “I’m not trying to scare you. I’m just trying to tell you that I understand you. And I know where
you’re
coming from.”

“No
,
you don’t. You think your ring is
like
my tattoo. There is nothing dark and sinister about you,” I shook my head
,
uneasy
.

“Your right, I’m not dark and sinister, but your boyfriend is and so are your friends.” I stared at him in awe. What was he trying to say?

I was sure he was referring to a select few. I didn’t say anything.

“That blonde, the one that upset you, she’s using you.”

I eyed Hutch
skeptically
. “I don’t get it.”

“I know what is going on with you and your friends. I knew the moment I laid eyes on that tattoo. And when I caught you on the beach catching things on fire it all made perfect sense.” Hutch watched me
,
carefully choosing his words.

I felt like he had punched me in the gut. I felt ashamed he knew what it was I had become.

“What are you saying?”

He sanded his hands together, and placed one against my
cheek. My
hair fell against his hand
. I closed my eyes, enjoying the
feeling
.

I opened
my eyes. Hutch
moved closer, his mouth only inches from mine. I studied his
lips,
not afraid anymore. I didn’t feel anything, but the urge to press my lips to his. What was happening to me? It was as if I was trapped in a connection that I could not break.

I inched closer, the heat
from
his
breathing
caressing my face, his
scent at my nose. I closed my eyes
feeling
okay at that moment if he tried to kiss me. His eyes were dark
as he stared into
mine,
finally he dropped his
hand,
and reality slipped back into the moment between us. A soft ringing in my ears was the after effect. I felt slightly light headed as I twisted away from him.

Hutch raked a hand through his hair. He leaned forward, “I understand what you are because
I’m
no different
than
you or your boyfriend.”

I slapped him in the arm. “Stop joking with me. And just tell me what is going on.” I shook the cloudy fog from my mind. “This game is getting old, Hutch.”

Hutch took me by the shoulders and forced me to face him. “Put your hands out.”

He offered his palms. I placed mine over his, my hands trembling at the sudden realization. I was afraid to understand what he was trying to tell me. Our palms
connected,
and his eyes locked with mine. “Tell me why you don’t want to talk about your mother.”

I scoffed, but I couldn’t look away. “Because she broke my dad’s heart and left him for the tae
Kwan do
instructor. She never talks to me
anymore,
and I feel like she abandoned me.” I couldn’t
believe my ears.
I had just told him everything I tried so hard to keep on the inside. It wasn’t enough, and I was sure he knew that. He gripped my hands, his fingers slipping in between mine.

“Tell me the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to you.” My mind screamed for my mouth to keep shut.

“My first kiss was awful because I dropped a flaming marshmallow on his foot. I didn’t make up for that horrible night until I move
d
here.” I
cringed. Hutch
held tight.

“One more.
Tell me how you feel about me.” My eyes filled with shock.

“I think
you’re
hot,
and a breath of fresh air compared to my boyfriend. And I really wished you would have kissed me a few minutes ago.” I swallowed hard, humiliated. Hutch released my hands. I looked down, staring at my knees.

The heat in my face
was
scorching at this point.

“You are like
us
. Well not me, I could only wish to be good enough to get people to confess their innermost thoughts to me like that.” I sighed, a little relieved and a hell of a lot mortified. He had pulled things out of me that I wanted to keep hidden. Things that he didn’t need to know. Things that nobody needed to know because they were just embarrassing and complicated.

“It takes practice.” He stood up. “I want you to know that I
would never reveal your secret
. It’s safe with me.”

I stood up too. “If you did I doubt anyone would believe you.”

“If I did that coul
d mean a lot of trouble for you, f
or me
,
for all of us. I just wanted you to know that I understand you more
than
you think.”

I
nodded. I
understood. 

He said
good-bye
and headed down the sand and disappeared into the darkness.

Finishing up my gig at the café I tucked my tips into the front pocket of my jean shorts. I started for the door, ready to go home and unwind for the night. I wanted to go home, slip into a hot bubble bath and sleep for at least six hours.

My sandals thudded across the boardwalk as I took the usual path to get back home. I had missed Slade’s phone call, and as I tried to return
it,
I wasn’t surprised to see Hutch standing at the end of the boardwalk that parted the be
ach and stores and lead
to the residential area.

He was wearing khaki shorts that clung to his frame in just the right way
, giving you enough information to know what was probably waiting underneath
, and as my eyes crawled up the length of his long
torso,
I admired the way his vintage band t-shirt accented his
chest
. I dropped my gaze to his brown flip flop
s—the
guy had style.

He pushed off the tree he was leaning against and started toward me. I ended the call before Slade
could pick
up
,
if he was going to I wasn’t sure. He had been busy with his own music, which I didn’t mind because I was angry with him.