Authors: Kaylie Austen
She trembled and sighed again, dropping
her hands to her side. She sat on the top step, hugged herself, and rocked back
and forth. None of it had been real. It happened all the time, more and more
frequently as the years went by. The delusions grew more aggressive every night
leading up to the anniversary of the disappearances.
An entire decade passed with no more
than conjecture. The police never found clues, a trail, or even a suspect. No
one knew if Liam and Julie were kidnapped, taken by a bear, or dead from
starvation.
Kendra anticipated grief, to have some
degree of trauma, even to feel guilt, but this couldn’t be normal to have the
images and conversations years later. Kendra thought she was over it when
martial arts pulled her out of her despair and created the aggressive, bold
masterpiece. She found herself sadly mistaken.
Chapter Two
Kendra never dreamt of Julie despite the
numerous fond memories of her younger sister. Only Liam grew older with her,
and only Liam haunted her. The visions didn’t revolve around isolated,
subconscious stories. They were continual, like an alternate reality where she
met Liam on a regular basis.
This sounded like the makings of
schizophrenia. Why couldn’t Liam just leave her alone? As crude as it sounded,
why couldn’t she mentally dispose of him the way she had with Julie, her own
flesh and blood?
Kendra clutched her head and shook. She
closed her eyes tightly as she curled her lips into a snarl. He had to go away;
she didn’t want him in there. Her mind, not large enough for two entities, felt
overcrowded.
“Argh!” she screamed. “Get out of my
head!” She hoped the imaginary Liam met her demands.
The doorknob rattled with a key.
“Kendra?” The barn door swung open, and
Randal took the steps two at a time to get to her. He had stopped by to take
Kendra on a short prearranged trip.
“What?” She glanced up at Randal through
damp lashes and met his green eyes.
“Are you okay?”
Kendra stood and stumbled back, her hand
at her temple as if dizzy.
“What’s the yelling about?” He placed
his hand on her hip, standing intimately close.
Liam sarcastically hummed through her
thoughts. She flinched and stepped away from Randal.
It never failed. Whenever Randal touched
her, flirted with her, or attempted to kiss her, Liam’s voice resonated in her
thoughts, breaking the mood. Kendra always moved away. The voice, louder than
her own, made it impossible for her to disobey. It wasn’t just with boys, but
anything that placed her in danger or led her away. In a weird sense, Liam’s
voice was a guide.
His voice tried to take over. The
absurdity baffled her, but then again, so did frequently conversing with a
nonexistent person. What sane person does that?
“What’s wrong?” Randal took her by the
elbow and embraced her with a gentle hug.
Kendra sighed and dropped her arms.
“Just, um, a headache.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Hey!” She pulled away and covered
herself. “I’m not dressed.”
“Sorry, I’ll let you get dressed if
everything’s okay.”
“It is. Thanks.”
****
Randal hoped Kendra would allow him to
hold her, but like all of his desires about the troubled girl, his notions went
up in a blaze. He grew close to her over the years but kept a respectable
distance due to their age difference. He thought she liked him, but things
didn’t change after her eighteenth birthday a few months ago. When she gave him
the key to her place, he deemed it an invitation to drop by whenever he
pleased. Kendra broke that notion before it fully formed. Still, he went
through the nightly ritual reasoning with himself when he wanted so badly to
slip into her bed.
He closed the door behind him, allowing
Kendra privacy. He wandered toward his car and sat on the hood beneath the
shade of a pecan tree between the barn and the house. He hoped to enjoy the
fruits of his patience soon. The closest he got to throwing her down was
actually throwing her down on a mat during training. Being a guy, this chasing
after Kendra forever thing wouldn’t do.
“Ready?” Kendra asked from across the
small field.
He grinned. Kendra failed at being a
boring girl. She wore knee high black boots with four-inch platform heels; a
short black and white plaid pleated miniskirt; a tight, white tank top; and
black, fingerless gloves. Kendra, usually a jeans and T-shirt type girl,
morphed into a dark vixen beneath black tresses. The anniversary brought out
the wild rebel in her, and he liked it.
Randal licked his lips, hungrily
watching her as he opened the passenger-side car door. If she’d so much as
dragged her finger against his jaw or chest in flirtation, he would have tossed
her against the side of the car and devoured her right out in the open. To his
disappointment, she didn’t. It was probably for the best since her parents kept
an eye on her from the house, and her daddy owned a shotgun.
Randal tapped the car and walked to his
door. He thought of all the wondrous things that could be as he jumped into the
driver’s seat of the red sedan and took off.
He couldn’t help but incessantly glance
over at her while trying to control lascivious thoughts. The silk skin of her
legs beckoned his touch. Her straight posture, sucked-in abs, and pushed out
cleavage drew his attention. If she dressed like that, she had to like him.
He exhaled. He found himself one lustful
thought away from losing control, and Kendra didn’t make things any easier. She
inadvertently teased him by the way she dressed. Normally, Randal owned what he
wanted, but Kendra turned him into a pile of silly putty in her petite palms.
“So,” he began, pushing his mind from
the devious thoughts before his lips turned into a grin. “Know what you want to
get yet?”
“Yeah, it came to me in a dream.”
“Not that I’m complaining, but do you
think you should wear white? You might get blood on your clothes.”
“I’m not prone to bleeding.”
“You never know. It’ll be your first
time, but suit yourself.”
“Can we go to the beauty parlor, first?
I have a new look in mind.”
Of all the places he wanted to take her,
a hair salon had not crossed his mind. Nevertheless, he obliged.
Some time lapsed in said beauty parlor
while Randal flipped through one magazine after another in what seemed like
eons before he heard Kendra’s voice. He peered over the tattered edges and inhaled
a surprised gasp.
“What do you think?” she asked, taking a
step into the waiting room to meet him.
Randal sat frozen for a moment,
contemplating words. He dropped the magazine in his lap and grinned.
“You don’t like it?” She frowned,
mocking hurt feelings.
“What can I say, Kendra? It’s about as
hot as I’ll ever get out of you.”
Kendra beamed. For as long as Randal had
known her, she never dramatically changed her appearance. She had average
haircuts and the occasional change of clothing style, but this seemed like too
much for one day. Not that he complained.
Kendra kept her long, wavy, black hair
but added a little flair. The stylist cut her bangs straight across, low over
her brows, and added pink tips. She layered Kendra’s tresses with pink highlights
splashed at random intervals. Yep, the term boring could not lay a hand on
Kendra.
Randal felt more at home at the next
stop, having been there many times and comfortable with the atmosphere, as
opposed to the one at the hair salon. He didn’t have crazy hair or eccentric
clothing like Kendra, but he did have loads of tattoos. Randal started going to
this tattoo parlor at the age of eighteen and used the same guy ever since. His
guy would now work on Kendra.
The large tattoo parlor consisted of a
sitting area in the front with four chairs, a reception desk to one side, and
several chairs and a bench in the background. The open layout enabled Randal to
watch the process from a good distance. For those who requested or required
privacy, a small room in the back provided such seclusion.
When Randal entered the tattoo parlor
with Kendra, the atmosphere reversed, though she remained oblivious. When
Randal’s tattoo artist saw her, he gave Randal a look that said, “
Man
,
you lucky beast.”
Randal shrugged and let the process get
on its way. The tattoo artist took a few minutes to sketch out a simple series
of solid circles and swirls for Kendra’s upper arm. He also took a pre-made
dragon drawing and added a few changes before running the stencil through the
thermal-fax. Pasting the thermal paper on moist skin and pulling it away to
leave a dark-purplish design, the artist began with the upper arm. He finished
this area before pasting the dragon. The actual inking took five long hours.
Randal commented on the nice work on
Kendra’s upper arm before the artist bandaged her up and applied the dragon
stencil. After the artist completed the outline, and filled half of the dragon
body, Randal stepped out to get fresh air and stretch.
At the end, he stood in the tattoo
parlor with arms crossed and studied the new body before him. His heart beat a
little faster, and the blood rushed from his brain. He loved training with the
beauty every other day, but seeing her like this increased his desire. She was
the epitome of what he wanted in a girl, and he couldn’t fathom being with
anyone else.
“What do you think?” Her words sounded
slurred.
She held up her rolled tank top to
reveal the new tattoos. Every guy ogled her. Even Randal stared. Her tattoos
glistened with ointment.
Her short skirt, low beneath her belly
button, hugged generous hips. The dragon’s tongue licked her navel. The solid
black dragon roared red fire, which blazed just to the waist of her skirt. The
thick dragon body stretched across her abs and curled around to her back. A thin
tail moved over her lower spine and came back toward its body to end at the low
dip in her back.
“That’s, uh, pretty hot.”
Randal swallowed, unable to voice his
true thoughts. He couldn’t stop staring at the fire, only imagining where the
sweet ends led. Rampant thoughts coursed through his mind as he imagined
shoving her against a wall and devouring her in deep kisses, then dragging his
lips down to that tattoo. He controlled himself.
Kendra returned to the artist, who
bandaged the area and gave her strict instructions for aftercare. She unrolled
her shirt in a slow, careful motion.
When Kendra returned, Randal noticed a
sparkle in her nostril. “What’s that?”
“While you stepped out, I got some
piercings,” she responded with a devilish grin.
“Plural? Where else?” he teased in a low
growl.
She tucked hair behind her ears. The
pink highlights in her bangs brushed against her temples to reveal the colorful
gems in her ears; three earrings in her right ear and four in the left.
“Nice.”
“And the last one.” She stuck out her
tongue to expose the barbell, the reason why her speech sounded slurred.
His heart fluttered, and the feeling in
his belly dropped. It felt like a bag of bricks hit him in the guts.
“Oooh!” Then he went on in a lower
voice, “Something you wanna tell me?”
A wicked grin spread across his lips.
Kendra killed him. He sucked in a breath. Kendra, a sweetheart of a girl and
very proper in the ways of love, didn’t scream innocence with the barbell in
her tongue. It screamed naughty things. If Randal thought he was a goner
before, he just passed the point of no return. He convinced himself nothing
would keep them apart now.
Chapter Three
Kendra found herself standing in her
parents’ dirt driveway between the house and the barn. She rapidly tapped her
fingers against her thighs and tightened her fists. Biting her lower lip, she
contemplated if she should venture to Julie’s room for her yearly visitation.
Despite the emotional consequences, she wanted to see Julie’s bedroom again.
Coming in through the front door, Kendra
stepped through the foyer and dodged her parents, who ate in the dining room.
Wrapping her fingers around the railing, she pulled herself up the staircase.
The steps creaked beneath her weight as she embarked on her annual trek.
She confronted a long hallway at the top
of the stairs. She took one slow step at a time toward the back, passing her
old bedroom. Kendra faced the last door on the right. She lowered her chin and
leaned her forehead against the door as she grasped the doorknob in a tight
grip.
She opened the door and studied the
small bedroom. The meticulously clean and orderly room did not look like the
domain of a sixteen-year-old girl, but the still life of a lost six-year-old
child. The wrinkle-free bed faced shelves full of books and dolls. Pictures
hung from the walls. Dust should have gathered, but Kendra’s mom cleaned the
room once a month.
A burn stretched across her throat and
chest. With a hard swallow, she wiped her moistened lashes and attempted to
keep the tears at bay. Did she expect to find Julie on the phone with her
friends or in the corner hunched over textbooks? A small part of her did, and
the lingering hope sent the remainder of her thoughts into turmoil.