Fables & Other Lies

“Thank you, Gustavo.” River got out of the car.

I stayed in my seat, not just because I knew one of them would open the door for me, but because I truly was regretting all of this. Suddenly, one night in jail didn’t seem so bad after all, but then River opened the door and offered me his hand and looked at me with those dark eyes of his and I just took it.

Chapter Nine

I stared at the exterior of the house as River walked up the steps. It was paneled in dark gray and had a porch that wrapped around its entirety. The house had such an eerie feel to it and I hadn’t even stepped inside yet. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. The more I looked at it, the less comfortable I felt. An uneasy feeling spread through me. For me to have taken a picture of the house, the picture I took and published and sold, I would have had to be standing just a few feet from it, but that was impossible. Nowadays, I could say it was my lens, but I didn’t have the lenses I had now, then. I willed myself to remember, but couldn’t, and it was madness.

“Are you going to stare at it all night?” River asked.

I blinked and made my way up the stairs. The porch was filled with black rocking chairs that swayed with a creak as the wind picked up. I shivered and rushed up the rest of the steps. When I reached River, I expected him to open the door. Instead, he cleared his throat and the large double doors before us opened. A pale woman with dark hair, dressed in a black blouse and long black skirt that seemed too long for her not to trip on, was on the other side. She didn’t smile, didn’t welcome me, didn’t even acknowledge me. She kept her head slightly bowed and moved out of the way for us to walk inside. There was music playing. Old music, the kind you play at a cocktail hour so that people can stand around and talk over it. As we walked farther into the house and I took in the dimly lit hallway and the hall full of mirrors, I wondered if I’d stepped into another century, another lifetime. It felt stuffy inside the house, but then we reached the foyer and it opened up to a party, which changed the mood of the house. It wasn’t that it was light in this area, but everything was vibrant; the people were talking and laughing and drinking and dancing. Everyone was in costume, all black, feathers everywhere. It was . . . oddly cool.

“Master River, your bed has been downturned,” the woman said beside us, her voice low and meek.

“Thank you, Mayra.” River walked toward the people with such an air of importance, that I found myself falling behind until he glanced over his shoulder and looked at me. “Miss Guzman will be staying here tonight. Maybe for the remainder of the week.”

“The remainder of the week?” I rushed forward. “I didn’t agree to that. You said one night.”

“I know what I said, and you’re free to go tomorrow morning,” he said. I breathed out. “That doesn’t mean I won’t choose you again and have you right back here.”

“Why would you . . . ” I swallowed, my heart soaring into my throat. “Why would you pick me twice?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Do you want the long version or the short?”

“We already went over all the versions I’m interested in discussing and my answer has not changed nor will it.”

I glanced over at Mayra, who was still standing there. She was staring at me, and what I saw in her eyes was pure, unfiltered hatred, before she turned her face away. The uneasy feeling inside me grew, an ivy that wrapped around my innards and held tight.

“Where will Miss Guzman be staying?” Mayra asked, her eyes still cast at the floor.

“My bedroom.”

“She . . .” Mayra’s head snapped up, her mouth growing tight. “What will Doña Sarah say? And Don Wilfredo?”

“I personally don’t care what either of them have to say about it.”

“Very well.” She swallowed and took a step back. “Does Miss Guzman have luggage?”

“She does not. I’ll need Gustavo to bring her a trunk. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a party to attend.” River offered me his arm. I put mine in it reluctantly.

“Sure thing.” Mayra bowed and walked away, disappearing into a dark hallway on the other side.

“I . . . I need to use the restroom,” I said.

“Again?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

He escorted me to a door. “I’ll be nearby.”

“Okay.” I set my hand on the round doorknob.

“I trust that you know you can’t go anywhere tonight.” He shot me a look. “You’re staying with me.”