Aria

 

 

 

“Aria, you’re married?” Alex said as his voice cracked.

No one knew about it and I had hoped no one ever would. Even Morgana didn’t know about my marriage.

“Yes.”

“Alex, you should come home with me. I can tell you everything. Never believe a woman who is only after your money. Besides, you already know that she’s not the woman meant for you.” Alex’s mom sneered at me.

Just a few weeks ago she was practically begging me to be with her son and now, it’s as if I turned into a lost beggar child from a Dickens’ novel.

“No. This doesn’t involve you,” Alex said to his mom.

I thought he was going to storm off when he pushed past her, leave me behind for good. It’s what I wanted, right? Be free of this family and all its crazy. But now I didn’t want to leave Alex. Something about running away with him to some far-off locale sounded exciting.

That’s what I wanted. Excitement. Part of why I missed working was the stimulation. When things were busy, I came home from work exhausted but happy. Now there was no exhaustion, only boredom.

Maybe adventure was the key.

It surprised me when Alex grabbed my wrist and tugged me along. We kept walking until we were inside the elevator moving down. That’s when the silence took over. I kept glancing at him but his head was down, his brow wrinkled.

Some may see him and think he was deep in concentration, but I knew better. Alex was angry. And as much as I wanted that irritation directed toward his mother, I knew it wasn’t. It was because of me.

I was about to speak, to explain, but the doors opened and he pulled me with him. His fingers tightened around my hand as we went through the turning doors and stepped into the cool, windy May sidewalk. A black car with tinted windows sat out front and Alex walked over to open the door.

He waved for me to get inside but I stood my ground.

“Aria, I need to speak with you. Please, get inside.”

I folded my arms refusing to go anywhere until I got answers. “Where are you taking me?”

He’s mad at me, fine. He has every right but that doesn’t mean he can pull me around like a rag doll. Expecting me to do go wherever he wants as if I have no say.

“Somewhere safe. Somewhere to talk.”

My shoulders shook with laughter. “And where would that be, Alex? I am coming to notice that no matter where we go, your mother seems to show up.” I waved my hand back at the large, metal and glass Mimir building. “Just take me home.”

I was getting tired of this crazy world he inhabited. As much as I sought the adventure with him, I also wanted it to be carefree, not full of worry and confusion.

I moved to the car and stepped inside. Once we were buckled in the car took off.

“To garage number one, Ben,” Alex said to the man driving the car.

“That’s not taking me home.” I turned toward Alex, his eyes still set on the front of the vehicle.

“No, it’s not. But there is something there that not even my mother knows about.”

Or maybe there was nothing there. Maybe he could get rid of me and no one would know about it.

I may have known Alex for a month and a half, but what did I really understand about him? Maybe this was all a way to lure me into believing him. What if there’s a reason no one knows what A. Hawthorne looks like? What if he plans to hurt me, or worse.

Gazing over at him, I noticed the curves in his arms as he flexed his muscles. To say the man was built was an understatement. He could break me in half easily.

“Don’t worry. Where we’re going, my mother won’t be able to find us.” Alex finally turned to look at me. His eyes narrowed as if they were measuring me. Probably for my grave.

I was surprised when he still wanted to talk to me even after finding out that I was married. No guy would do that unless they wanted something from me. Something that I might not want to give, like my life.

“It’s not your mom I’m worried about,” I mumbled as I twisted my head to figure out where we were.

He placed his hand on my shoulder and I tensed.

“Why would you be afraid of me? I would never hurt you. Since I first laid eyes on you all those years ago, all I ever wanted to do was make you happy.”

I whipped my head around. “What? Years ago. You mean . . . weeks ago, right?”

 “Shit.” Alex pulled back. “I didn’t mean to say that. It doesn’t matter,” he said waving his hands at me.

“Mr. Hawthorne, we’re here,” the driver said as the car came to a stop.

I glanced out the window and noticed we were in the Roger’s Park neighborhood, near the northern Chicago border. I recognized a restaurant I had been to before. At least, if I had to escape, I knew where I was.

The driver took us to a garage and dropped us off. Alex took me to another car—a yellow Volkswagen Karmann Ghia. Before we got inside, Alex looked under the car. When I asked him what he was doing, he only told me it was to make sure we were absolutely alone. That answer didn’t help my anxiety. I glanced around to find an escape. Before I could get away, he put his hand on my arm, opening the car door, blocking my escape.

I thought that was where he wanted to talk but we ended up going north, out of the city and to a motel. My eyes took in every road sign and turn we made. When I got away, I’d knew where to run.

I tried to think of an excuse to not go into the motel room, but Alex pulled me inside. Not much had changed in this room for a few decades. It smelled of mildew and everything was either brown or dark green.

If he thought I was compliant he would be more likely to leave me alone, and then I could escape. I sat on the bed and tucked my hands under my thighs.

“Is this where you plan to kill me? I have to say, Alex, I thought if you were going to off me it would be in a classier place.”

I, obviously, wasn’t very good at being compliant when it came to possibly being killed.

“Why do you think I want to kill you?” Alex asked as he sat on his knees in front of me.

“Because I’m married.” I crossed my arms around myself feeling my old life creep back in.

That life would be right at home in a room like this.

“I’m not going to kill you because of that. I’m not going to hurt you at all, ever. I only want to find out the truth and knowing my mother, she would find a way to listen in on what we say. I don’t want what you tell me to be twisted later into something unrecognizable from her.”

My shoulders slumped as I decided to stop making excuses to run from Alex. He wasn’t going to kill me. If he had wanted to harm me, he had plenty of times in the weeks I have known him to do it. I think I was only worried that he would see the real me.

Maybe, like my parents, he wouldn’t like what he saw.

As much as I didn’t want him to see, it was time to own up. Out of everyone I knew, I guess Alex would be the one that would most understand.

“My father, he’s a lawyer. Not the type of lawyer you think of, but the one who works for the scum of the Earth—you know, the mob, criminals, even a few terrorist organizations last I heard.” I felt sick talking about him.

Alex moved up to the bed and sat next to me, placing his arm around me. Until he pulled me close, I hadn’t realized I was shaking.

“When I was a teenager, my father went to work for a group in California. They called themselves the Freedom for Oppressed Peoples. I was so happy he was finally working with a good organization. He took me and my sister to a party they had. I was excited because I wanted to find out more about helping people. I had a dream since I was young to use my art to help others.”

I shook my head but continued, “But the name of the organization was a front. It was another criminal organization. But this one wanted to infiltrate the government. They were Russian. They wanted to work to destroy various governments around the world, giving them the power. And my father offered me and my sister up to two of their high-ranking officials so they could get citizenship.”

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Aria.”

Alex’s fingers began to rub my back and it felt good. It helped to settle my nerves.

“We were left at the party and locked in a room together. My sister told me at the first chance I got, I should run. So, that’s what I did. The next day I was forced to sign some paperwork. They left me alone in the room with the man they had told me I married. Most of the things the people said was in Russian, which I didn’t understand. But the worst part wasn’t the fact that I was married . . . it was what the man did to me after. He took a part of me that I can never get back.”

I felt tired. Scooting toward the pillows, I lay back on the bed. Alex gave me some space but moved to lie near me.

“When I used the bathroom after it was over and the man was asleep I noticed a small window. I climbed out and ran. I didn’t know where I was but somehow, I found a woman on a bicycle and told her what happened. She called the police. Later, when the police raided the house—”

I stopped. Turning to my side as I curled up in a ball, the tears flowed and I didn’t know if I could ever get the words out. I miss her so much.

“It’s okay, Aria. You don’t have to tell me anymore,” Alex said as he eased closer.

He curled up behind me and hugged my body to his. I needed that. Every time I thought about that time in my life, about my sister, I was alone. Only able to cry into my pillow. I never realized how much it helped to have that touch, to have someone to talk to, until now.

“It was abandoned. The house. Things were torn up as if they were trying to get out in a hurry. Only they left one thing behind. My sister.”

“Was she safe?” Alex asked, his hot breath tickled my neck.

“No, she was dead. The coroner said they found heroin in her system. She never did drugs, never. I was the wild one. Ava was the straight-laced one. She did everything right. I called her a parent’s wet dream.” I laughed at the memory.

“She was the one who talked me into going with my parents to that supposed party. She said she wanted to help Mom and Dad. That she had heard them fighting about money problems. Ava believed that if we supported them, looked like the happy family, then these people would give my dad money. Instead, they destroyed her.”

I gritted my teeth and bit out, “I knew they filled her with those drugs. They killed her. My father basically sold us and caused my sister’s death. And all I could think about was the fact that I left her there. She was scared and alone, and I ran away. She had just turned eighteen. About to start a life as an adult, instead everyone she loved left her to die. I may have only been seventeen, but I was old enough to find a way out for her.”

A sob rattled my body. It was deep and long and still not enough. Despite how much time has passed, I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for leaving my sister to die.