Risk of Chains
1841 Words
She was sitting under a tree with the girls, and they were staring at her while she tried to put her thoughts into place. Their intent gazes were making her almost as uncomfortable as Jay had.
“Was he handsome?”
She nodded, “yes but he wore these huge glasses which were way too big for him. It made his eyes weird and hid half his face.”
“No contacts?”
“Nope. Thick glasses.” She held her fingers apart. “Like magnifying glass thick.”
“That’s weird.”
“Tall or short?”
“Tall. A hundred and eighty-eight centimetres he said.”
“What’s a centimetre?” Bristol made a face.
“Metric system,” Oakley shrugged. “America is one of the few countries still using Imperial. He’s Chinese right? He must have had his education in China.”
Bristol held up her phone, “roughly six feet and two inches. He’s tall.”
“Thick or skinny? Like was he like Ryan Reynolds fit or huge like the Rock.”
“In between,” she whispered, “more Ryan Reynolds. He’s definitely toned but he had a tie and one of those argyle vest things on.”
Her two friends sneered with disgust.
“How old was he?” Bristol’s lips were pulled back so far, her teeth were bare.
“I don’t think he lied about his age. Early forties.”
“But he’s attractive?”
“Yes.”
“Did he have hair?”
“A thick mop of shiny black hair.”
“Are you going to see him again.”
She shook her head, “I don’t know.”
“Why not? You’ve been talking about this guy and his sexy voice forever now. You’ve met him and he was good looking despite his sweater vest.”
“He kissed me,” she put her fingers to her lips as she remembered the feeling of it.
“He kissed you!” Oakley squealed excitedly and bounced. “Was it a good kiss or a bad kiss? Tell me he’s not a bad kisser.”
“He’s a great kisser but,” she wrinkled her nose up ready to confess her worries and then stopped. “It’s nothing.”
“What’s nothing.” Bristol leaned forward.
“I felt like he was playing a game with me. He teased me. He suggested I didn’t know how to kiss and then got right on my side of the table and kissed me. He was also really,” she waved her hand around searching for the word, “superior.”
“Superior?”
“Like he was looking down at me or mocking me somehow and then,” she took a breath, “then when he was leaving, he told me no going to bars to flirt with boys because I was his now.”
“His?” Bristol sat back on her calves and lifted an eyebrow. “Like his how?”
“The way he looked at me from the door kind of scared me.”
“Do you think he’s dangerous?”
She shook her head, “I don’t know. I felt safe and fine the entire time I was sitting there with him. Even when I felt he was teasing and mocking me, I never once felt I was in danger. A bit patronized maybe but not in danger.”
“Now you do though?”
“I can’t put my finger on it. I can’t say I felt I was in danger, but I will say I don’t think I want to cross him to find out.”
“He can’t just claim you like a dog from the pound, Iris,” Oakley said angrily. “You’re a woman with rights and freedoms. I don’t know how they do things in China but in America women don’t belong to men.”
“Pretty sure women have the same rights in China that they do here,” Iris intoned dryly.
“Okay but,” Bristol interrupted Oakley’s forthcoming tirade, “was it a sexy, sensual vampire type claiming or was it a guy with a shed in his back yard where he’s going to hold you captive for forty years kind of claiming.”
“How is one better than the other?” Oakley argued with her. “Both of those scenarios remove any choices in her life.”
“Okay but if he’s simply saying he doesn’t want her to date anyone else while they’re dating.”
“They aren’t dating!” Oakley snapped. “They had a f*****g cup of coffee in a coffee shop and forty minutes of conversation. He doesn’t get to tell her where she can go or who she can see after one cup of coffee.” She grabbed Iris’s hand and waved it around, “I don’t see a giant diamond ring on her finger or a wedding band which gives him exclusive rights to her company. Moreover, even if he did put a ring on it, he doesn’t get to tell her what to do. This isn’t feudal era Europe. She’s not tied to him like she’s a middle-aged serf.”
“One,” Bristol held up her hand, “you need to stop reading those historical romances. They are making you jaded. Two, it’s no different than when a guy in high school asks you to go steady or be his girlfriend.”
“Except he didn’t ask! He ordered her not to go out with anyone else and staked a claim.”
“How exactly did he say it, Iris?”
The words were still echoing in her mind, “go meet your friends. Go straight home. No going to bars to find boys. You, Ms. Iris Parker, are now mine. No bars or I’ll be annoyed.” She quoted him nearly verbatim. For a woman who had struggled with memorizing things her entire life, she was having no problem at all recalling his words.
“Annoyed how?” Bristol interjected before Oakley could began her next tirade. “Did he say what annoyed meant?”
“No but the look he gave me was very stern.”
“Stern? Girl, is it possible you’re simply projecting your fears of your mother whooping your ass onto him? I mean you have very real trauma disorders from her,” Bristol continued.
“No,” she shook her head. “There was something in his tone and the way he looked at me. He stopped at the door, turned back, and warned me. It felt like a warning. Like if I disobeyed him, I’d be punished.”
Bristol frowned. “Well, that is weird.”
“You are going home, you’re removing the app you’ve been chatting with him on your phone and you’re not seeing him again,” Oakley pointed at her.
“Yes mom,” Bristol mocked her before ducking away from her slap.
“This is serious Iris. Always trust your gut. Always. Something is telling you this guy is off and so you end it now before it starts. Otherwise, six months from now, you’re chained up in his basement being fed through bars on a chain while you promise to be a good girl if he lets you piss in a toilet instead of on the floor.”
“Oh my god, why is everything so dramatic with you,” Bristol threw herself backwards on the grass.
“Why is everything so laissez-faire with you?” Oakley argued. “Are you prepared to give statements to the police when she goes missing?”
“She’s not going to go missing.”
“And if I did, my mother’s spies would find me,” Iris tried to break the tension with a bit of dark humor.
Oakley frowned, “what do you mean?”
“I mean when she showed up at my house last night she came armed with photos.”
“You said she came over to give you s**t about going out, but you didn’t say anything about photos.”
“Someone took pics of me at the bar and sent it to her.”
Bristol sat up from where she was laying down, “she got mad about it?”
“I wasn’t even home an hour and she showed up, yelling, and screaming at me for drinking in a bar. She insisted I move back home until I was married.”
“She yelled?”
“Who cares if she got mad about it, who the hell sent it?” Oakley argued. “Who at the bar knows your mom?
“I didn’t recognize anyone other than our little group. It’s not the first time she’s known exactly where I was and who I was with.”
“Great. So, what you’re saying is you have your mother stalking you and a creepy dude thinking you belong to him and if that’s not enough, someone is following you around, taking your photos and reporting your movements to your mother.” Oakley opined angrily, “it’s an invasion of your personal space on so many levels. Who would sell you out to your mother?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Oakley demanded.
“Because you have done so much for me already and I don’t want you worried any more than you already are.”
“Your mom is whack.”
Bristol sighed, “my mother doesn’t even notice I’m alive.”
“Wanna trade?” Iris asked snidely, annoyed with her friend’s comment.
“I only mean, your mom is a b***h but at least she gives a s**t about your safety and your life.”
“She slapped me in the back of the head last night for not telling her the names of the boys I was with so she could visit their mother and demand to know their intentions with me. But sure, Bristol, I should be happy she gives a shit.”
“I’m sorry,” Bristol said looking away. “I always forget she hits you.”
“Well, she does and I’m twenty-four and I’m two inches taller than her and I weigh at least fifty pounds more than her and she still terrifies the actual hell out of me.” She groaned and rose to her knees. “I need to head home. I’m going to spend the rest of the night watching chick flicks where guys don’t get weird and where moms are supportive and loving. Maybe I’ll watch Mama Mia. The mom in there is good and the men are decent.”
“They’re also old. You have a type.” Oakley pulled her upright to her feet giggling as Iris shrugged exaggeratedly.
“What can I say? I like the idea of a man with experience.”
And with this thought, Iris considered the ending of this day couldn’t come soon enough.
- Writer
