He looked at her as she hung motionless, a few twitches in the muscles of her legs hanging off the counter.
Stepping back, he reached to his hips and pulled his pants up, ignoring the glow of energy surrounding him. Then he reached up and released the belt from the pipes above Claudia.
He propped her up and straightened her clothes. She was limp and sated, dangling from his arms like a rag doll. It took a few moments for her to slowly come back from the euphoric place she had been in.
A breeze stirred the air behind him. He turned to see the traces of a woman’s hair vanish through the slit of the door as it closed.
“Fuck.” Someone had seen them. He picked Claudia up and held her close. For a brief moment he showed compassion. He would never hurt her—ever. Pausing, he gazed toward the door. “Someone is taking the medallion from your bag, Claudia.”
Walking out, he saw the woman he’d told to guard them sitting outside in the small hallway, rubbing her head. He sat Claudia next to her and brushed his hand over her head.
“I’m sorry. Somebody hit me over the head with a purse or something. She took off that way.” The woman pointed toward the bar and the table where Claudia’s friends were sitting.
“Alyson, it had to be Alyson,” Claudia mumbled.
“Who is she?” The question stirred Claudia and woke her even more.
“Alyson Mendez is a reporter and she’s got a knack with people. She’s the type who has to know everything. She’ll nudge and pester me for secrets. If there’s something she wants to know, she’ll find a way to get the information.” Claudia yawned.
He didn’t need to know much more. Claudia had something this Alyson didn’t. Obviously she wanted it.
“Find out why she took it. I’ll come back to you tomorrow.” He looked to see Claudia nodding in agreement.
He lifted the older woman’s head, staring into her eyes. “Help my friend get back to her table.” The dark m
an brushed the woman’s cheek, causing her to shudder and clench her legs together tightly. She giggled and kept her eyes locked with his. “Remember nothing of me.” His voice faded away as he disappeared into the darkness of the club.
Chapter Two
Alyson
In every cemetery, there is always a feeling of dampness and cold. In this particular one, a large figure stood motionless next to an old oak tree. He stood amidst shadows, but his presence could be felt by all who passed. Pain filled the air around him.
The cemetery caretaker waited beside the gate. It was time to do his final rounds before closing but he wanted to let this man pay his respects. The caretaker had seen him there before. He watched as the man placed what looked like a rose onto a grave.
He turned to grab his bag for the loose trash then glanced back to the place by the tree. The man had gone. Wandering toward the tree, slowly collecting bits of food wrappers and a few stray petals of flowers, he stopped for a moment where he had seen the man. The aching pain was still there, still residing so strongly that the caretaker felt it. He looked down to see the red rose laying on the small gravestone.
Here lies Kelly Hearth. Taken too soon, April 20, 1980—August 9.
There was no year of rest.
“Holy shit!” The caretaker noticed it was today’s date.
~~~*~~~
Alyson stood in the lobby of the hotel, waiting for him to arrive. Her hands shook as she tried to take a calming puff on her cigarette. Nervousness and excitement filled her body. This was more than just a meeting with a sexual god. This was her chance to really take advantage of her journalistic talent. Another look at her watch and thirty more minutes of puffing and pacing went by.
He was a no-show. Fucking bastard. I made sure Claudia told him six o’clock. She stubbed her third cigarette into the sand of the ashtray and blew out a plume of smoke, seriously pissed off.
A quick trip up the elevator and she was at her door, swiping the cardkey through the lock. Thank goodness they have a bar in this suite. With a solid thud, the door closed behind her.
“You’re late.”
Alyson dropped her purse and the black leather bag from her other arm. “Whaa— Who—th-the— How did you get in here?”
“Does it matter?” He stood from the chair beside the window and drew the drapes open, his back to Alyson.
She felt warmth rising in her body. He was a massive specimen of masculinity. If he’s candy, then fuck the diet, I’m gonna eat myself to death. She dug deep for her usual control, calming herself as quickly as she could.