Page 4 of Baja
3
ALICE
My heart pumps so fast it makes me choke on my next breath. I need fresh air, and I need to get the hell out of here. I don’t dare look back as my feet carry me away from Baja’s bedroom. The ringing in my ears is palpable, and my entire body has gone numb.
I feel…aliveyet terrified at the same time.
It’s all too much.
I’ve got to go somewhere to process what I’ve done.
Oh, God, Alice, what have you done?
On my way through the clubhouse, I seek out Ophelia but come up empty. I don’t bother to stop and look for her, and I don’t bother to find Sukie to tell her I’m leaving.
The second I push through the clubhouse door, the night air assaults my skin. I take a shaky breath as a shudder wracks my entire body while standing in the open doorway. Then suddenly, that tingling sensation is back, and because that man somehow has a strange hold on me, I look over my shoulder. Once again, those intense amber eyes hold me captive. Baja is standing at the mouth of the hallway I just ran from, his arms crossed over his chest, his hair mused from where my hands were in it, and hisexpression is one I have no trouble reading. It’s a look that says he’s not done with me. At that moment, I don’t want him to be done. And that terrifies me.
So, as much as I want to stay and drown myself in whatever silent promise Baja has made, I can’t. What happened tonight was a mistake.
As if Baja can read my thoughts, a flash of disappointment crosses his face.
Though the idea of disappointing Baja fills me with dread, my fear wins in this situation, and I walk away. My heart breaks a little more with each step I take toward my truck, yet that’s another set of emotions I refuse to acknowledge.
When I reach my truck, I open the door and slide in. As I stick the key into the ignition, I glimpse myself in the rearview mirror. What I see causes me to freeze. My hair is messy in that ‘I just had sex’ kind of way. My eyes are glossy but bright. My face is flushed with a tinge of pink staining my cheeks, and my lips look plump and like they have been thoroughly kissed. I look… beautiful. I can’t help but stare at myself for several more beats.
When did I last look at myself in the mirror and feel… beautiful?
I startle at laughter and look out the window to see the two women dancing earlier spill out of the clubhouse in their short skirts and crop tops. I can’t help but notice how stunning both women are and how both carry an air of confidence.
That’s precisely the kind of woman I imagine Baja going for. So why me?
Shaking those thoughts away, I start the truck, and the engine roars to life. The clock on the dash reads 3:37 a.m. I reach for my purse in the passenger seat, dig out my cell, and shoot off a quick text to Sukie, letting her know I’m on my way home and will text when I make it safely. I don’t wait for her to respond.All I can think about is getting out of here before I do something even more stupid, like go back inside and find Baja.
Who am I kidding, though? He’s probably already forgotten about me and is looking for someone to take care of him since I ran from his room like my ass was on fire the second he got me off. I do feel guilty for leaving him like I did. I mean, there was no denying how turned on he had been. I felt every hard inch of him against me. But then again, Baja’s actions tonight had been all about me. He made that much clear. That’s something else I’m not used to. Baja ignored his own pleasure and instead focused on mine. The concept is almost foreign to me.
My husband had only ever been about getting himself off. He had a way of making me feel like my pleasure didn’t matter like I was just a body to climb on top of and use. Sex with my husband became a chore, and I found no joy in the act.
At the start of our relationship, he’d convinced me that I was the problem. But then I started to take care of myself on my own. I knew then that was not the case. The problem was I had married a selfish prick who couldn’t find a G-spot even if I had given him a flashlight and a map. The worst, though, was when my husband would come home drunk in the middle of the night and climb into our bed, smelling of alcohol and cheap perfume, and have the audacity to think I’d want to have sex.
When it first happened, I would shove him away and tell him I wasn’t in the mood, but he’d get angry and toss around a few nasty insults. However, later in our marriage, after the verbal abuse had turned physical, I found myself giving in. The consequences then were much worse.
The nightmarish reel that plays on a loop in my brain is paused when I’m suddenly blinded by blue flashing lights in my rearview mirror. My heart beats excessively for an entirely different reason, and my face breaks out into a cold sweat. New memories come flashing back, making me panic.
With a shaky hand, I flip the blinker and prepare to pull over, but before I complete the action, the police cruiser merges over and flies past me. My shoulders sag, and some tension weighing me down leaves my body. “You’re fine, Alice. The cop wasn’t there for you. He was on his way to an emergency. Just breathe,” I say the words repeatedly to myself for several more miles until finally, my house comes into view, and I reach my driveway. As soon as I park in front of the porch, the security lights kick in and illuminate the entire yard.
The security system was something Harlem had installed when Sukie was still at home, and I have never been more grateful for it than I am right now. I’m happy for my daughter and that she’s finally spread her wings and flown the coop, but coming home alone in the middle of the night can be scary, especially since I don’t live in town.
Before exiting the truck, my eyes sweep the yard on instinct. A smile stretches across my face when I spot a fluffy ball of orange fur perched on the porch railing. A few weeks ago, I found the tabby out back by the greenhouse. He had looked a little worse for wear and was underweight. Not anymore. He’s filled out nicely since I’ve been feeding him.
The cat meows when I make my approach, so I give him a scratch under his chin. “It’s still a little early for breakfast. You’re going to have to wait a while longer.” The cat lets out another meow in protest, but I know he’ll be here at six o’clock waiting for his fix.
When I step inside the house, I reset the alarm and then go down the hall to my bedroom. I’m too wired for sleep and decide to take a long, hot shower. Before entering the bathroom, I check my phone to see if Sukie has texted back.
Sukie: Mom, is everything okay? Do you want me to come over? Call me when you get home.
I shoot off a quick reply.
Mom: I’m fine, sweetheart. I was tired, so I decided to come home. Sorry. I would have told you, but I didn’t know where you and Harlem had snuck off to, and I didn’t want to bother you. I’ll call you later. I’m about to shower and sleep. Love you.
