THE DESERT SKY glows in twilight, bringing with it a cool, relieving breeze. I sit out on the verandah, sipping a beer, while listening to the muffled chatter from inside the main house. I look up and close my eyes, blocking it out. That’s what I do with most of the world. Reality is just white noise.
“What the hell is your deal?”
I look up to find Allison hovering over me, angry stars twinkling in her pale eyes.
“Excuse me?” I ask with a cocked brow and an amused grin.
“Your deal. Your problem. The reason you act like someone pissed in your Cheerios.”
I sit up and motion for Allison to take the seat beside me, though she doesn’t flinch. “I understand the sentiment, Mrs. Carr-”
“Ally, dammit. Ally.”
“Excuse me, Ally; I understand the sentiment, although I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”
Completely unmovable, Ally stares daggers from those cerulean eyes—so still I’m not even sure she’s breathing. “So that’s your angle,” she finally smirks. “I get it. You think this crap is funny, don’t you? We’re all just entertainment to you—your very own live reality television. You don’t care about helping us; you just want to hurt us more than we already are.”
I’m on my feet in the next breath, stealing the cool breeze that whips through her scarlet hair. “Don’t ever question my motives, Allison. And don’t ever f*ck
ing think I could hurt you. Ever.”
Her eyes grow wide at my proximity and my heated declaration, but she doesn’t move. She shares this space, this moment, with me. “Fine. But don’t you ever think I’m here for any other reason than to fix my marriage.”
This would be the perfect opportunity for her to storm away, fire trailing behind her in a blaze of glory. The proverbial period on her fervent statement. But she stays, matching my earnest glare, hers just as obscure as mine.
Maybe I’m not the only one being dishonest here. In fact, I know I’m not.
I take my seat on the lounger and pick up my beer. This time, she sits in the chair beside me. The act is an unspoken truce. We’ll lay our swords down for now.
“I know you’re not the dick you want people to believe you are,” she says after a long beat passes. I open the cooler beside me and retrieve another beer, handing it to her. She smiles her thanks, and I nod.
“What makes you think I want people to believe I’m a dick?”
She shrugs, taking a swig of beer. “I don’t know. Easier that way, I guess. You reject people before they have a chance to reject you.”
“Hmph,” I snort. “I wasn’t aware you had an interest in psychology. Seems as if I’ve missed something in my research.”
Ally shakes her head before leaning back on her lounger. “Nothing to do with psychology. Everything to do with experience.”
We sit for several minutes in companionable silence, enjoying the late summer breeze. The stars shine brighter tonight, revealing shapes and patterns on that giant midnight blue canvas. Even the moon appears bigger, closer than ever before.
“So tell me, Ally. What did bring you here?”
She turns her head toward me and offers a pained grin. “I thought you knew all about me.”
My eyes remain trained on the sky, but I see her. I’ve seen her since the day she strolled into my home and into my life, a halo of fire and eyes birthed from the stars. “I do. But I want to hear you say it.”
I hear her swallow and then the hushed rustle of fabric as she fidgets with a loose string on her dress. “I thought…I thought if I was what he wanted…I thought if I could be-”
“But you are.” I don’t know why I interject. But just the thought of her believing that she is anything less than perfect has my hand tightly locked around my beer bottle. I catch myself and put it down before it shatters in my grip. “I mean…you are what he wants. He married you, didn’t he?”
“Yeah,” she shrugs. “But of course that doesn’t hold the same connotation as I once thought it did.”
“Once?”
She doesn’t answer, but I hear her sigh. Then without rhyme or reason, I reach over and grab the bottle out of her hands, placing it next to mine. “Come on,” I say, climbing to my feet.
“Huh?”
I hold my hand out, waiting expectantly for her to take it. And why wouldn’t she? Strange man under the influence of alcohol telling her to follow him without explanation, late at night? Sounds legit.
Yet, with those crystallized eyes trained on my earnest expression, slowly she places her hand in mine. She’s trusting me without question, though I’ve done nothing to earn such a gift. But like the selfish bastard I am, I take it, pulling her to her feet. My fingers impulsively lace with hers, causing a contradicting mix of alarm and comfort to surge in my veins. I look down at our locked hands as we both pull away.