Captive of Love

Redirection

I blinked several times. I must have looked like a deer caught in headlights. Of course, my mind was a landfill. When I didn't answer right away, he clarified, "Your reason for going to Italy."

I was thankful for the clarification. God only knew what my answer would’ve been if I had continued with my train of thought.

"Pleasure, I suppose," I answered. Even to my ears, I sound unconvinced.

"You suppose?" He questioned. He shifted in his seat to turn more towards me. A single key hung low on a gold chain around his neck. I thought it to be a curious choice for a charm, but I otherwise gave it no further thought. My eyes lifted from the chain to see him with pursed lips and a tilted head as he mulled over my words. "Who awaits you in Italy? A friend, a lover?"

I scoffed and stifled a laugh.

"What's so amusing?"

"The punchline to your question. I don't know a soul in Italy. It is just me on the journey of self-discovery."

His interest piqued, and something within me knew I shouldn't have given him that tidbit of information. He was a stranger, after all, and he now knew that I would be alone in a foreign country. However, back then, I was a naive woman-child who hadn't yet lived. My inexperience was so keenly noticed by others.

"You are a liar, or at the very least delusional," he matter-of-factually stated.

Sucking in a harsh breath. My kind thoughts of him were suddenly thrown into a whirlwind. The mere audacity of his words and the sharp transition from charming to rude left me speechless.

Before I had a chance to defend myself against his thoughtless words, he added, "Surely an attractive woman such as yourself has a suitor, or, dare I say, many suitors pining for your attention."

Breathing a sigh of relief, I smiled, and he returned the gesture. Instantly disarming and intriguing me as no other had.

"May I?" He asked. Pointing to the seat beside me.

My eyes widened, but I nodded. I hurried to move my purse to free up space for him. Fate was cruel to give me him, a man who possessed every physical quality that made me weak in the knees. Notwithstanding his scent, which was an alluring blend of ginger, waterlily, and a natural musk that was purely him. I had to cast my eyes away. He was like looking at the divine, and like anyone unworthy, if stared at for too long, fear would settle into the beholder.

I glanced down at my casual clothing. I should have opted for a dressy outfit, but I thought it best to fly in comfort. My skinny, stone-washed jeans fitted me well; my loose knitted off-white top hung loosely over the black tank top fitted snuggly against my body. I wore my dark coiled hair in a messy bun, with tendrils of hair dangling that wasn't long enough to be held by the hairband.

He rested his arm on the armrest next to mine. He was only a couple of shades lighter than me. My brown-sugar-hued skin, with red undertones, went well with his golden skin. I looked up and seeing him so close to me, caused my heart to flutter. Though I wasn't haphazardly thrown together, I might as well have been in rags compared to him.

I wetted my lips, his eyes twinkled at the action. For a moment, I saw something, felt something, but he pulled away and readjusted himself in his seat.

Before asking, "Is there a story to your solo expedition?"

I began to speak but shut my mouth. I didn't want to tell the horrible truth. One of two things was sure to happen; my story would either be seen as pitiful or off-putting. Neither scenario was what I wanted.

"Ah, too personal to share?" He questioned.

He guessed right.

"I don't know you," I confessed.

"Then, let's start with introductions. I am Karlus Gallo," he said, extending his hand towards me.

I am convinced there are a few times in one's life that act as a crossroads, a point of change in the direction of your life that will forever alter you. Slipping my hand into his, I replied, "Amara Brooks, I'm pleased to meet you."

That was one such time.

Present Day

"Wait, you aren’t telling me this is some love-at-first-sight bullshit, are you?" Det. Harris asks. His abrupt question rips me away from the memory and back to reality.

"Do you want me to tell the story or not? I told you it was a long story. I knew anyone with your sensibility wouldn't find value in my tale."

Det. Harris smiles. This time, one of amusement. "Nah, don't get me wrong. It is just your husband was a hardened criminal. One who evaded capture for years, and you speak of him like he's this angelic being who came down from the heavens to save humanity. I didn't know Jesus’s second coming had come and gone."

I bit the inside of my cheek. "I am very much aware that he is not...was not a saint. Yet how a person feels shouldn't ever be disregarded. Now, I can discontinue, or you can shut the hell up and allow me to tell my story as I see fit."

The utter look of shock that crosses his face deserves replay, Det. Harris stopped smirking before clearing his throat and nodding for me to continue.

"Now, where was I? Ah, yes-"

The Past

During the conversation, I learned that he had dual citizenship in the United States and Italy. He told me he worked in the shipping and transportation of goods, a family business he inherited. Though I asked him many questions about himself, he asked twice as many questions about me. Never had I had a man hanging on my every word. I found it to be refreshing. Jaxon was never one to invest in long conversations and, worse, would zone out midway through, causing me to rage.

Yet, Karlus listened intently. Our conversation flowed with ease as if we had known each other for years. Usually, I would've shunned such topics we visited day, religion, politics, and do you squeeze the tube of toothpaste from the top or the bottom. I found Karlus’s insight magical and enlightening. So, when our flight ended, and he asked for my phone number, it was a no-brainer. He offered to share a ride with me, but I had already secured a rental that I needed to pick up. We parted ways. Part of me knew he was too good to be true. Imagine my surprise when I received my first of many text messages that night from him.

Karlus: “I know you just left my sight, but I am already missing talking to you.”

Me: “I know, right? I had a great time talking to you.”

Karlus: “This may be a bit too forward. If so, please forgive me, but I am compelled to ask. Will you meet me tomorrow, for brunch? My treat.”

I smiled, as butterflies filled my stomach. I hadn’t been in Italy for more than a couple of hours and already I have a European fling blossoming. I hurried and replied, yes. To which he said he would text me the location of the café, which was not too far from my hotel. Again, my inexperience caused me to blab the name of my hotel during our nearly fourteen-hour flight. However, I considered it more thoughtful than alarming that he thought to meet at a nearby location for my benefit.

The morning came and I primped myself to be as beautiful as possible. I took time to flat-iron my hair, to give it a more sleek and sophisticated appearance. My makeup was clean and minimal and I wore white jean capris, a satin royal blue halter top, with matching wedge sandals. Paired with my clutch purse and sunglasses, I must say I looked more like a movie star than a tourist, which was perfect.

I decided to walk to the café since it was so close. Plus, traffic was insane by the time I left at ten o’clock. I strut my way through the crowds of people. I got a couple of double takes which helped to boost my confidence. I approached the doors of the café but heard Karlus’s familiar deep voice call out to me from the terrace. I turned to see him approaching. He was dressed more casually than I had expected. He wore designer jeans that perfectly hugged his long muscular legs and a faded Guns and Roses T-shirt. His golden key charmed necklace dangled between his pectoral muscles. I then looked around at the other patrons and realized that I was overdressed.

“You look lovely,” Karlus complimented.

“Thank you, though I feel overdressed,” I whispered. My cheek began to heat, my only saving grace was my darker skin tone hid my embarrassment.

“Nonsense, you are perfectly dressed. I am the one who cannot match your impeccable taste.”

Just like that, he knew just what to say to put me at ease. The magic of our initial greeting hadn't waned. We pick up our conversation right where we had left off as we ate our meals. It was nearly noon when we finally decided to leave. We walked to a canal where he rented a traghetto to take us on a tour. Though he had a mastery of the English language, the elegant manner he spoke in his native tongue made me long for him to speak it more often.

Once the boat had been secured, we boarded. Though he must have seen the sights a thousand times before, he indulged me by answering my numerous questions about the architect and the great history of Venice. He was answering one of my questions when a gust of wind blew debris into my eyes. Batting my eyes, tears began to form.

“Facile, facile,” Karlus cooed.

His massive hands cupped my face. As his thumb wiped away the moistness of my tears from my cheeks. I had no idea what he said, but I was put at ease by his take-charge actions.

“Let me help you,” he said.

He then pried my lids open and blew a gentle breath, blowing the irritants out and soothing the ache.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

I could feel his fingertips gently massaging the back of my head. The action lulled me into a state of calmness. His stare captivated me, as he drew nearer to me. I licked my lips, craving his kiss. He glanced at my wet lips and then lifted his eyes to mine. His gaze darkened, and as he did, something deep within me began to stir.

Damn it, kiss me.