Hadrian's Wall (16 page)

“Actually
, I have broken some, but I
don’t need anyone to remind me.” The voice assumed an imperious
tone...strange, something so strong that paralyzed me and made me
breathe hard. He must have realized because I heard his footsteps
approaching very fast.

Apparently, it wasn’t only for me that his
tone of voice caused unease. The other fictional
character—Stephen—took a while to talk.

“Is she?” He sounded incredulous.

“Yes,” confirmed the voice, marked by an
indefinable emotion.

“But how did you find her?”

“I followed the signs. She’d warned me to be
attentive and during all these years, I’ve done nothing else.”

* * *

After that, the dream was very confused. I
heard the purr of a powerful engine before the car motored rapidly
down the road. The interior was pleasantly warm. I sighed and
snuggled against the seat.

Again, I felt gentle fingers touching my
hair, stroking my cheek, outlining the arch of my eyebrows, lazily
moving down to the tip of my nose.

For the first time in my life, I felt
safe.

Even in the darkness.

5

MELISSA WHO?

I opened my eyes, stunned
to see the morning light—a dazzling, painful light. I realized I
could not feel my arms. They were trapped under my body and so numb
that I could not have responded to any commands.
Pull it! Push it! Turn it!

The events of last night
came back to my mind with the force of a locomotive. Since my
arrival in Hadrian’s Wall, crises were occurring regardless of
threats. It was enough to make me a little nervous and then
boom!
Last night’s crisis
was more intense than any other.

I tried to use my arms as levers to pull
myself up, but without much success. My muscles were painful,
aching from having spent the whole night in the same position. When
I was finally able to move, circulation was restored, bringing with
it an unpleasant prickling in my limbs.

Vap
... At first, I thought I’d imagined something. The sound was
brief and very faint. I heard it again.
Vap
. This time it was more
distinct... the noise behind me caused me turn to see who was
approaching. However, I turned so fast that I fell face down in the
blanket and my ribs protested.
Ugh!

I froze when two strong
hands took hold of my shoulders and helped me to sit up. The
movement made my hair fall over my face. For a moment I imagined
how hilarious I must have looked, like a bad case of bed head. A
soft male laugh awakened me from my reverie, echoing my thoughts. I
knew that sound very well. I had a sense of
déjà vu
. My worst fear was confirmed
as soon as I swiped my matted hair away from my eyes and mouth:
Adrian Cahill was standing beside me, watching my most
vulnerable
moment of the
day.

The numbness in my arms was quickly replaced
with surge of adrenaline - like I had been driven by invisible
springs. So, I straightened my aching back and surreptitiously
folded the edge of the blanket to hide the drool stains. I didn’t
want anyone, especially Adrian—the man who looks like a god from
the pages of fashion magazines—to seeing any evidence that proves
that I’m just a common person. I rubbed my hand across my face as
if to wipe away my sleepiness, unaware that he was watching me
until I saw him purse his lips to keep from laughing. My face got
hot—from rage or shame, I didn’t know. All I knew was that I needed
to escape. I tried to make him let go of me, I tried to get up, I
tried to straighten my hair...all at the same time. Apparently, I
was unable to accomplish a feat that required such coordination
because I became quite dizzy. I think I would have fallen back onto
the bed had he not supported my body with his arms.

That’s when things got complicated. The same
mysterious electrical current emanating from his body crossed into
mine again, leaving me weak and very aware of his proximity. It was
a strangely pleasant weakness, one that relaxed my muscles and
calmed my heart rate, eliminating the pain and tingling as the
numbness disappeared. I felt completely overwhelmed by the
magnetism of his touch...as if everything surrounding us had come
to a complete stop.

I blinked a few times, trying to escape his
domineering look, actually trying to regain my senses. Obviously,
he realized what was happening to me. He seemed to be following my
efforts with interest—like a scientist who observes a guinea pig
reacting to an injection which he knows to be lethal.

It seemed like Adrian was
also struggling a bit to regain his composure.
His sparkling eyes narrowed and he
walked away, giving me the opportunity to collect
myself.
God help me!
Here I was, all messed up with a swollen face and probably
morning breath...and there he was, holding me like that. How
embarrassing, especially because his intense eyes, half hidden by
those tinted lenses, didn’t look away from mine for a second. I
foolishly pointed to the bathroom door, desperate to escape and try
to rescue my dignity. Adrian said nothing, but supported me as I
tottered in that direction.

“Do you want my help?” he asked.

I was horrified, just thinking about it. “No
need, I can manage.”

Before I could get inside and shut the door,
he put his hand on the door jamb. “Don’t lock it.” I looked at him,
offended.

He responded with a smirk. “If you get sick
in there, I’ll have to break down the door.

I mumbled unintelligibly, but left the door
slightly ajar. On the other side, I heard him say, “Don’t
dawdle.”

What a tyrant!

I was afraid to look at my reflection in the
mirror, so I leaned over the sink and proceeded to wash my
face.

“Did you have another crisis, Melissa?” he
asked. I heard his muffled voice behind the door.

“Yes, I did.” Why deny it? He probably saw
my suitcase open on the table.

“I warned you to expect that to happen.” His
comment was a censure of me, but his tone of voice was mild.

I sighed. “I had to.”

“And...did you remember something?”

“Something, yes,” I answered.

He was silent. Certainly,
he was waiting for more explanation, but I was silent. Something
was curbing my tongue. I felt I needed to be cautious. I don’t know
why, but I needed to be face-to-face with him when we talked about
this because I wanted to watch his reaction. My intuition told me
that Adrian Cahill was involved in my mysterious arrival in this
town, but my rational side didn’t know how to edit the information
so that he wouldn’t classify me as a
super
crazy
girl. Men with yellow and scarlet
eyes, giant panthers, and winged monsters are not exactly logical
things to try to explain to a doctor—that is, if the resident
doctor concerned was not
directly
involved in the plot.

Furthermore, the images lingering in my
memory were too fantastic, too confusing. I couldn’t evoke them
clearly now, no matter how hard I tried. Most of them had broken
down...become blurry, almost unintelligible...like specters from
forgotten dreams during wakefulness. However, everything that
happened in the woods after Simon Cridder attacked me—that I
remember very well. Every detail...even my reasons for considering
the events too unrealistic, even for a screenplay!

So many unsolved mysteries were spinning
wildly in my head...so many questions. Were the events in South
Portland real or hallucinations? Simon Cridder...what would have
happened to him?

I splashed more water on my face, trying to
clear my mind. No use thinking about it now. The solution was to
save my questions, carefully categorize and store them in my mind
for further consideration. I had more practical things to take care
of now, like calling Carmen and telling her that I’m fine.

Am I really fine?
Finally, I dared to stare at the figure in the
mirror...me—the one with the horrible appearance. I let out an
hysterical laugh when I heard Adrian ask the same question I’d just
asked myself.

“Are you fine?” he asked. His voice was low
and husky.

“I think so,” I replied, opening the
door.

He had not moved. He stared
at me for a long time, standing there with his shoulder leaning
against the doorframe.
What
an idiot I am!
A smarter
girl would have flirted with him or grabbed him and kissed
him,
but I couldn’t play the
femme fatale
, not in a
zillion years.

The contrast between us is
striking. He’s very tall and strong, with nearly twelve inches
height advantage over me. My forehead barely reached his broad
chest. We were standing so close to each other that if I had leaned
just a little to confirm my estimate, my cheek would have touched
the curve of his well-defined muscles beneath his scrubs.
Mmmm...
We were so close
that I could inhale the natural aroma of his skin.
What temptation!
Adrian’s
eyes sparkled, as if he was reading my thoughts. Even though I felt
embarrassed, I could not divert my eyes. I am shy by nature and
staring at a man was not part of my repertoire of innate behaviors;
even so, I couldn’t move. It was as if we were connected by
invisible wires. Suddenly, he looked down at my left hand and
touched my birthmark with his fingertips and then wrapped his big
hand around mine. I no longer wondered about the electricity coming
from him, nor the cold temperature of his body.
Perhaps these electro-thermal sensations are part of my
hallucinations?
Real or not, it didn’t
matter now. His touch was...exciting. He attracted me like a
magnet.

Adrian guided me gently into the room,
making me sit down on the rumpled bed. I don’t know why, but I had
the impression that he was feeling as disturbed as I was. I could
not be sure because the lenses of his glasses darken in bright
light; thus, his eyes remained safe from my speculations.

Tilting his head slightly, he collected my
drawings scattered on the table. A frisson swept over me as I
observed the concentration with which he evaluated each of the
illustrations. There was something disturbing about watching him
peer into my inner world. I felt exposed.

He showed me the figure of the winged
monster.

“You drew this?”

I nodded. I wasn’t ready to hear either
criticism or praise. My drawings weren’t meant to be seen by anyone
or subjected to public opinion.

“Very good! You have talent. Have you taken
any courses?”

I shook my head. Adrian scowled at me.

“Why not?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. It was probably
difficult for a rich person to understand why someone who is not
rich fails to move on.

“I have no
money
,”
I responded calmly. “My school grades weren’t very
good, so my chances of going to college are slim to
none.”

“Would you like to go to college...to study
art, perhaps?”

“No, I never had that ambition.” I pointed
to the picture he was holding. “You might think this is good, but I
lack the talent to compete in college level courses.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How do you know?”

How irritating he
is!
Why is he talking about this when I
have so many other things that need to be discussed with
him?

“Because...” I began with the same patience
as before... “Despite not having the necessary talent, I’m pretty
realistic. I see other people’s work that really stands out, but
mine doesn’t.”

Laughing in my face wasn’t a polite
response, but that’s exactly what he did.

“Of course you have talent! Only people with
a bright future ahead can draw like this and at the same time
deprecate their own work. History proves that the most successful
artists have been like that: Snobbish, temperamental
perfectionists. I happen to believe that if they didn’t get
involved with some type of damaging excesses, torturing their minds
and bodies with all sorts of penance or agony, they would have
suffered less, but that wouldn’t be fun, would it?” He shrugged.
“Then they wouldn’t be geniuses or...martyrs.”

I took a deep breath and let it pass. After
all, I didn’t understand most of the meaning embedded in his
comment. Of course, I understood the sarcasm, but I couldn’t refute
it, even if I wanted to.

The silence expanded. I expected he would
ask the fateful question. Adrian placed the drawing on table and
then pulled a chair close to me. I waited, but he said nothing.

Suddenly, he asked, “Did you like the
clothes?”

What?
I was completely bemused by that question.
Shouldn’t he ask me about what I remembered during the
crisis?

“Clothes?”

He grimaced with mock surprise. The corners
of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. He seemed to be enjoying
my confusion.

“Charity hasn’t been here?”

“Yes, she was...”

“And...?” He raised one of his perfect
eyebrows.

Yep, the penny
dropped
...What a gaffe! I should have
thanked him the moment he walked into the room. He probably thinks
I’m the rudest person on the planet.

I gasped. My fingers flew to my mouth, too
embarrassed to speak coherently. “Oh, th-thank you! I should have
said something earlier. Of course, the clothes are
beautiful...fantastic...but I can’t accept them. It’s not right,
you know...allowing you to spend money on me...” I stopped to catch
my breath. “I tried to tell her that. Charity, I mean...your
cousin, but I couldn’t convince her to take them back.”