We also need to address the elephant in the room, now that the other elephant has departed to the depths of hell, or wherever she came from. This particular pachyderm is still lounging in the corner wearing an orange parka with “long distance romance” written on it.
Even without my home destination being across the country, my job has me traveling constantly and we haven’t even begun to wonder about what that would look like for us as a couple. Is he a homebody like he seems? Or is that just a symptom of feeling responsible for Juniper and various tragedies. For all I know, and hope, both he and Juniper may be ready to leave this town. Deep down I know that their historic house would be hard to leave with generations of the Madison family living there before them. Such a legacy would be hard to cast off.
I’m lost in thought, but tethered back to reality when clouds roll in, casting off the warm like a drunken one night stand. The sky greys quickly, and not long after, tiny drops begin to invade my Mojito, melting into the muddled lime seamlessly.
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter, putting the drink down and quickly sitting up to stow my camera and phone back into my beach bag. “I hate New England.”
I begin to think it’s actually New England that hates me as the drops become fat and plentiful while I’m gathering the last of my things. I stride quickly inside, marveling that my sun hat became a rain hat in less than a minute.
As I enter through the pool door, I lament that I’d not even thrown on my cover up and am now standing in the lobby, drenched and bikini clad. So professional, I bemoan inwardly as I gingerly slink to a side table and place my belongings down and fish in my bag for the garment that stands between blogger Kat and slightly skanky beach rat Kat.
As I’m busily fastening it behind my neck, I feel the weight of eyes on me, though this time they feel potently dark and my skin crawls as I look up expectantly. Across the lobby stands Mario, like a statue, boring holes into me, his green eyes like burning jewels, even from this distance. His face is hard and impassive, and I struggle to see anything of the man I know in them; lust, surprise, goofy hand gestures, anything...but I am left bereft.
Eager to banish the inscrutability on his face, I raise my hand tentatively and wave weakly. The smile I try to draw to my mouth withers at my eyes as he continues to leer intently with no societal reciprocation.
I try to look away, but cannot until he suddenly turns on his heel and walks away with no acknowledgement.
Relief washes over me as I scurry forth, eager to reach the security of my room. Unease is a constant companion as I jam my finger into the elevator button, as though my persistent pressing will hasten the arrival.
I blow a breath of relief out when the doors separate invitingly and I waste no time jumping in and then peeking out to thankfully view an empty hallway.
My heart is beating unreasonably quickly while I ascend floors as Ian’s concerned words about Mario haunt my brain.
His behavior has been bizarre and erratic.
Do you have any reason to believe that he may want to harm you?
Nefarious.
I struggle for control over anxiety and again I think about cutting my hotel trip here short. I resolve to call Ian or Erik when I get into my room, as I am certain just a call to security won’t allay my fears.
The doors open to my floor and I rush out, beelining for my room, happy for the closeness of it, but rueing not having found my key already.
I paw through my purse quickly and have just clutched the plastic card comfortingly when large arms suddenly lean against the doorway on either side of my head. I gasp and whirl around and almost bump into a barrel chest and I am helpless to stop the frightened yelp that emits from my mouth. I look up and Mario leans down to meet the movement, his massive shoulders hunched to get his face closer to mine.
“Oh Katherine, I’ve been waiting so long,” he whispers, dropping one hand down to the side of my face. I can’t even find my breath and he twirls a lock of my hair around his index fingers as his eyes move over my face.
“What do you want, Mario?” I force out, willing my voice to sound cool and unaffected.
“I want to come inside,” he tells me, voice a barely audible rasp as his hand comes down from my hair and trails down my arm, sending shivers up my spine and fear to my heart.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m about to have company,” I tell him through clenched teeth.
“I’m coming inside, Katherine.” His determined expression tells me unequivocally that I have no choice in the matter. “Be a good girl and open the door.”
I swallow and close my eyes as I turn around, trying desperately to think of what I can do to escape as I clutch my key.
Frantically I start to duck to escape and open my mouth to scream, but before I can utter a sound Mario clasps his hand over my mouth as he pulls me up, grabs the key and begins to usher my body unwelcomingly with his through the threshold.
When we are through, he does not release me but slowly walks me over to the bed, a sanctuary tarnished, as he tosses me back first onto it. I whip myself up at the waist, but he’s already on top of me, lifting himself over my body, face to face with me, his legs knelt snugly at either side of my body.
“Don’t do this Mario,” I whimper, trying to turn my head to
