I Don't Belong to You Page 5
He seems properly understanding my silence.
‹‹Lye down» he intimates me. Then he takes off the towel and enters in me, without any delicacy. A bestial impetus that, instead of frightening me, truly excites me. Oh! How I would like to express aloud my desire, but I can’t risk to be heard.
So, also this time, I gasp silently, untill I’m overwhelmed by orgasm. And to let him know that my body reached the maximum spasm, I tighten my legs more forcefully around his waist.
He falls on me and while I’m trying to catch my breath, he whispers: «The moment has come.»
«What do you mean? »
«Now we’ll dress, go into the cell as if nothing had happened and I’ll give you one of my books. »
«I don’t like to read. »
«You have to like it» he answers through his teeth. While I’m trying to understand, I notice his glacial gaze that penetrates me with the same intensity of our just concluded intercourse.
«Ok» I just whisper.
We get dressed in a hurry and I bring him into the cell.
While Gary and the others are playing dice on the floor, he gives me a copy of Romeo and Juliet. Could it be a gentle way to tell me that he’s taken as much as I am, by this tormented love?
Yet he gives it to me without any emotion. He keeps telling me that it’s better to read it at home, before going to bed.
And as I get away the curiosity becomes more and more stronger.
CHAPTER 10
I can’t wait anymore. Since I got home, Mary didn’t leave me a moment. At first she told me to help her cooking, then she took out of the fridge two beers and, giving me one, she began to tell me the gory details of her last appointments with Stanley. I silently listen, just making nods now and then. Encouraged by my resigned way, she goes on longer than needed.
Now we are standing near the kitchen’ sink. Mary rinses the dishes and I dry them. What a bad luck! Of all days, today she has the mania of the good housekeeper. Usually she throws the dishes in the sink and goes to bed, forcing me to take care of the kitchen’s rearrangements. Instead, to night, she told me that she’s seriously thinking to cohabit with Stan and so she wants to make a turning point in her life. To this news, I started asking myself a troublesome series of questions. To cohabit? At Stan’s or here? If they’re going to live here together, I’ll have to move away. And if she goes I can’t afford to pay the rent all by myself. From any angle you look at this situation, I’m back in the shit, up to my neck. Yet my mind is running in my room, under the pillow. That’s where I hid the book that Matthew gave me, that’s where I put my hopes to finally give name to the feeling that unites us. Yes, Matthew is my obsession, but this isn’t enough to explain the feeling I have for him.
When finally we sits on the sofa, looking the Jimmy Fallon Show, after a few seconds Mary falls asleep on my shoulder, snoring like a crazy bear. I take the cushions to make a point of support for her head and then sneak away, locking myself in the bedroom. I switch the lamp on the bedside table and take the book to my chest as a relic. Making myself taken by romance, I bring it to the nostrils to smell the traces of Matthews scent, so that my brain can memorize his fragrance. Instead I can only smell old paper and a kind of disillusion overcomes me.
For a moment I listen to my heart beating to the rhythm of heavy metal, and then I start leafing through the book.
What a disappointment! Even though I carefully read every page, there isn’t trace of indications about Matthew’s intentions. No notes, nor underlinings. Did he want to moke me?
Then I find it. A letter. I understand it’s a simply letter from a friend, a certain Bart. Nothing interesting. So I read the pages of the book between which it was contained: the letter could be there as a bookmark. Yet, considering the romanticism inherent in Romeo and Juliet (I looked ten times at the film with Leonardo di Caprio), I don’t think that Mercuzio’s death is the most appropriate passage to express his feelings to me.
Discouraged, I cast the book that falls with a thud letting out the envelope that lays at my feet. I decide to read it again just to figure out who’s the kind of people that deals with Matthew. Suddenly I notice a specific phrase.
Amidst a long series of stories of everyday life, I read:
Mick Ray finds a real Rolex in a bin. My friend, would you believe it? To take it he has to use a stick. The police see strange merchandise. Run to him. Escapes. Savannah is still laughing.
This is all.
I can’t understand why, but the idea that there’s a code message hidden in this part of the letter is continuously buzzing in my mind. I read and read those phrases, but I don’t notice anything strange. After a while I get an idea. I take a pencil and start to emphasize some words and to delete others untill I can read a meaningful phrase.
Mick Ray finds a real Rolex in a bin. My friend, would you believe it? To retrieve it, he has to use a stick. The police see strange merchandise. Run to him. Escapes. Savannah is still laughing.
Then I write down on a sheet of paper the underlined words.
Find a friend to fetch the merchandise from Savannah.
So I was right! This letter was hiding a code message. Yet, despite the fact that I had discovered the arcane, I feel that the situation is far from resolved. Hordes of questions are popping in my mind. What kind of merchandise is he talking about? Drug, weapons, counterfeit notes? And who’s Savannah? And, above all, why Matthew wanted me to read this letter?
I sit on the floor with my head in my hands trying to give the right pace to my breathing and to put in order my tangled thoughts.
In all this emotional chaos, a certainty emerges. It is obvious that Matthew wants to use me as messenger with this Bart. Ok, but how can I contact him? On the envelope there’s no address. Who knows how many Barts are there in Los Angeles? Instead Savannah is a less common name.
I start searching through Google without any major expectation. Looking for the results I find that Savannah is a Los Angeles bar. I’m sure that I got it. Maybe also “Bart” didn’t mean a person, but a meeting point. I use Google Maps to find the location. And when I understand which is the district, my heart stops for a moment. It’s Compton, the city’s worst area. I’m a brave girl, otherwise I would never have agreed to be a prison guard. But there’s a substantial difference between working in jail with a uniform that protects me and going in civilian clothes at Compton.
I decide to sleep on the problem and to make a decision in the morning, nevertheless I already know that I’m going to help Matthew.
It took me half an hour to choose how to dress. In the end I look at the mirror and the result is more than satisfactory. Wearing black knitwear, leggins and Converse, I think I’m not going to risk too much. Anyway I took off the red coral earrings and replaced them with the obsidian crosses. Also the blue bracelet was placed in the bedside table. I decide to wear that of black leather. I put on Mary’s black anthracite quilted jacket, the only one I found in that color, that is two bigger sizes and makes me look as the wife of the Michelin man.
I have never followed the Gothic fashion of the 80’s, but crossing Compton with colored dresses is a risk I don’t want to run anymore. The first time I went there it was an accident: I got on the wrong bus. I didn’t know that in the district there were two gangs, always in war between them, whose sign of recognition was red for one gang and blue for the other. Unfortunately that time I wore a red t-shirt and all of a sudden I was surrounded by bad boys with blue t-shirts. Just in that moment a police car was passing by and I ran to the agents getting me escorted out of the district. I promised to myself not to go anymore in that metropolitan hell but, because of Matthew, I have to break my oath. All his fault! Oh, how would I like to have a magic wand to make him disappear from my life... but I’m sure nothing could get him out of my sick heart.
There’s much traffic today and the bus takes a long time to get to Compton, but for me it’s always too fast.
Arriving at the destination
I get off the bus with trembling legs and I lean agaist a wall, trying to calm down and go on. I look around and everything seems quite. Apparently, Compton is a neighborhood with low-rise houses from a typical American suburb, where the mother prepares the apple pies and lets them cool down on the window sill. Actually, wrong policies have turned it into a place of great crimes. I’m very scared to be robbed or even killed. While walking I look everywhere, but the situation seems optimal. There’s a beggar, with only one leg, looking at me ravenous, but one like him doesn’t frighten me. If he tried to get me, he couldn’t do it with his handicap. Moreover, at high school I was like a gazelle and I won all the speed races.
After turning a couple of times, I’m finally in front of the Savannah. A rundown structure with riddled bullet holes windows and the neon sign that highlights only the AAA vowels. I’m looking for the courage to enter this dive. At ten o’clock in the morning, holding my breath not to smell the alcohol sting of the place’s guests, I make my entry and go to sit right away at the counter.
«What do you want, honey? » asks me a two-meter high big man with football player shoulders and boxer hands.
“To go away as soon as possible” I’d like to shout. Instead I say in a sure voice: «A pint of beer. »
When he gives me the beer I spin it within my hands not knowing what to do with it. I’ve never drank alcohol at this time, but I’m sure that if I had asked for pancakes with maple syrup they would have laughed in my face. I decide to play the card of sincerity.
«Hey you...!»
«My name is Mick. »
«Mick Ray? » I whisper in half voice.
«Do you know me? Maybe you heard about that time when, chased from the police, I up rooted a tree with which I blocked the road so that I could escape. »
«Yes, actually this story reminds me something» I invent not to expose myself too much.
I carefully choose the words. This one here knows how to uproot trees. If he got angry, he could hurt me really bad.
«I’m looking for someone. »
«Who? »
«Bart.»
«I don’t know any Bart. »
«Are you sure?»
«Of course. I know the names of my friends.»
Well this Bart must be a real delinquent with a lot of enemies, if the big man in front of me denies the evidence to protect him.
It costs me a lot, but I’m forced to name my password.
«Listen, I know that you know Bart. I’m here for Matthew.»
«Matthew? Are you a friend of Matthew? I have to admit that our guy has always good taste about women. Well, Bart is in the other room. Now I’m going to tell him that you’re looking for him. »
Finally I succeed. Mick didn’t hurt me and I can meet Matthew’s friend. Now I’m going to find out why I’m here. While I’m making hypotheses, I also try to digest the libertine joke on Matthew, swallowing a long sip of cold beer. The result? A piece of ice on my stomach... but I’m feeling a little bit relaxed.
Mick comes back.
«You can go into the back. Bart is waiting for you. »
It’s hard to get up from the stool. It’s not due to the beer, but most to the tension. After a few slow steps, I enter in what, in the dim-light, is more likely a malodorous lumber room. Looking around I don’t see anyone. Maybe Mick wanted to mock at me. I turn back to ask for explanations, when a hand blocks me by the shoulder.
«Don’t go away. It’s me... Bart.»
In front of me there’s a black guy with rusty hair and unshaven face. I don’t know why, but it doesn’t seem a totally strange face. Could he be a famous rapper? I’m trying to remember but nothing comes to my mind.
«Sit down. I’ll go to fetch the merchandise. »
He says giving me a blue chair. I sit, not to fulfill his courtesy, but because my legs are no longer holding me because of the restlessness.
After a few seconds he’s back with a yellow envelope in one hand and a little bag in the other.
«There you are. Now you can go back to Matthew. »
«Th... thank you» I doubtful say, with all those things in my hand.
«Tell him I’ve done my best. I hope everything is ok, although it seems a madness to me. »
«Madness? What kind of madness are you talking about? »
He comes closer and whispers: «Do you mean you know nothing? »
I nod, then answer with trembling voice: «Matthew gave me your letter. I managed to interpret the code message and I decided to look for you. But I know nothing about what you are going to do. »
Bart is starting to sweat, uncertain on what to do. He wipes away the sweat’s drops.
«No, this is no good at all. I thought that you knew the reason you were here for. This is a big complication.»
I’m tired of hearing him blathering about, so I tell him I’m annoyed by all these bullshit. I want him to tell me everything now, or I’ll stop it here and now.
He responds worried: «What a rip-off! If I don’t tell you anything, the plan is likely to be ruined. If I tell you too much, Matthew will kill me as soon as he sees me. »
I let down the envelope and the little bag pretending to go away.
«No, Khyla. Please, don’t go» he implores.
«How do you know my name? » I say surprised.
«Don’t you recognize me? I was a detainee. I was out three days after your recruitment. »
That’s why his face reminded something to me: «Wait a minute, now I remember...Bartholomeus Dixie? The one accused of document and money counterfeiting? Mary told me about you, but you got out before I could memorize your face. »
He laughs: «Yes, it’s me. I was in Matthew’s cell, but your eyes were only for him. »
«This means that, because of Matthew, I’m having a conversation with a forger. » I say feeling guilty.
«With an ex forger. I decided to toe the line, but first I made this last work for Matthew. »
I look at the envelope on the table and say: «What’s in it? Fake money...?»
«No, you’re wrong. Open and see.»
I look in it and see that there are identity documents. Certainly they are false, but they are very good. The names on them are unknown to me, and then I give a better look to the photos.
«But...these are Matthew and I! »
«Of course! Who did you believe the documents were for?»
«Yes, but I haven’t got blue eyes and Matthew hasn’t got black hair.»
«This is why I prepared the little bag» he says while taking out from it wigs, clothes and colored contact lenses.
I’m getting more and more confused and really dizzy, my hands are tremendously shaking. I can smell trouble. If I get out right now, I might have a chance to save me. But I really want to understand.
«What should I do with all these things? »
«Matthew should have chosen someone quicker of comprehension... You have to help him to escape. »
«What the hell are you saying? I’m a prison guard. My duty is to let them in jail, not to let them out. »
«Yes, but Matthew is special. You’d do anything for him, don’t you? » he insinuates with smarmy voice.
I sigh. Of course I perfectly know that I’d really do anything for Matthew. So I ask Bart to tell me everything about the plan.
«How did you plan to make him evade? With that security system it’s almost impossible. Our jail is foolproof.»
«Everything is ready. Through a hacker friend, it’s been told to the prison director that Matthew has to move in San Diego’s jail. The day after tomorrow, at midday. You’ll accompany him and then help him to escape. »
«But...how the hell can I manage? »
«Trust us, for once. I’m telling you that everything is organized in the least detail. Matthew and I talked about it for weeks before my release. »
«But why does he want to evade? He should try to resist a bit more. It seems to me that he’s getting closer to the end of his punishme
nt, and I think it’s right for him to pay for what he’s done. »
Bart exclaims: «He’s a victim of the system. He doesn’t deserve to stay there. »
«What do you mean?»
«I’m just telling the truth, but I’m not going to tell you anything else. If you really want to know all the truth, you have to ask Matthew. I’m a delinquent, but not a traitor.»
Bart stop speaking and I’m thinking about his revelations. I don’t know how, yet, but Matthew wants me as an accomplice to help him to evade. Yes, it’s just a madness. Yet a part of me, wants to give him an opportunity to start over again. I take the envolope and put it in my bag. Then, as I’m taking the case, Bart stops me: «Leave this one to me. Look at the sign on this map. Do you recognize the place? »
I nod.
«Well, the van has to pass there to bring Matthew to the other prison. When you get to this point, stop the driver and go into a basement. I’m in charge for the rest.»
«You will ruin me. I’ll lose my job and become a fugitive. »
«Is not gonna happen. Matthew thought about everything. But I can’t tell you more. If you want to ask for something specific, you have to ask it directly to Matthew»
So I go right away with two false documents in my bag and my heart full with uncertainty.
CHAPTER 11
I enter the cell and head to Matthew who’s lying on the bed with his hands crossed behind the head. I have to swallow my desire when I look at his muscles underneath the uniform.
«Are you resting? I need some help to fix the office. Mary was looking for a paper and made a mess on the desk. It seems that a tornado has gone over it.»
He doesn’t move, as if he didn’t hear me. He continues to stay in the same position gazing into space.
«Khyla, leave him alone once and for all. You can ask to me. I’m good as he is, maybe even better» says Gary winking at me.
Got under his skin, Matthew slowly turn his head toward his comrade and look at him with one of those cold gaze that have so much effect on me.