Atterbury

Dwayne watched as the sleek silver Mercedes Benz pulled up in front of the house. The hot August sun glinted off the sparkling windshield. A gentle wind cooled the sweat on the back of his neck. He stopped digging and stood, sheltering his eyes as he stared at the car. The doors opened and two people stepped out, but his eyes were focused on her alone.

She was dressed casually today, blue skinny jeans and a graphic Tee, with large silver hoops dangling beneath her short, cropped curls and only a light sheen of pink gloss on her lips. Her gaze slid past him without stopping, her face fixed in a cool mask of ennui. The blood pounded through his veins as she walked by.

"Alexia." The command in the man's voice was unmistakable. Dwayne watched as she turned around to face Mr Greenwood, her lover and his boss. The tall, slightly heavy man took off his shades and fixed her with a glare. "Remember I am picking you up at seven on the dot. Mek sure you're ready." She nodded, and as she turned back towards the house, Dwayne saw her lips curl in annoyance. He smiled to himself and stared after her for a moment, before turning to notice that Roland was watching him.

He raised a hand in greeting. "Mr Greenwood."

The man shot him an appraising look. "I want all of those bulbs planted by tomorrow."

Dwayne watched as the Benz disappeared down the driveway. He stood for a moment longer, surveying the work he had done so far. Soon he would be able to leave this place behind. He had worked non-stop for the last four years, juggling between Mr Greenwood's gardens and doing odd jobs for other residents in Wayford Hills. One day he hoped to build a place of his own, maybe get one or two good men together, start his own landscaping service. Only none if it would matter without Alexia. He sighed and went back to work, the sun hot on his back and her face heavy on his thoughts.

Later that afternoon, he thought of wandering over to the back patio, where he knew he would find her sitting with one of the large textbooks she always carted around. She had been living with Mr Greenwood for a little over a year and during that time he had managed to carve out a small friendship with her. She never acknowledged him when Mr Greenwood was around, but on quiet afternoons like this one, she would talk to him for a while. Occasionally a laugh would escape her lips and it always startled him, the gentle lilting sound of it, coming from someone so restrained.

One day he had made the mistake of asking one too many questions.

"What a nice girl like you doing with Roland Greenwood?"

Her sunny demeanour had darkened almost visibly. Snapping her book shut, she had walked away without a word, and he hadn't seen her for three days. Now, he was always careful not to bring up Mr Greenwood's name.

After his work was done, he went back to the tiny cottage in which he lived and showered before going to see her.

She almost looked like she was waiting for him, her hands folded nervously on top of the textbook, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Her eyes landed on him, then flitted away quickly and she leaned back, suddenly engrossed in her studies.

"Hello, Alexia."

She didn't look up. "Dwayne."

They sat in silence for a while as he stared at her and she pretended not to notice.

Her perfect pink nails tapped against the book. "Your orchids are blooming nicely," she commented. He smiled.

"Yes, hopefully the man they get to replace me cyan keep them going." Her hands stilled and she looked up at him. "You going somewhere?"

He rubbed a hand at the back of his neck thoughtfully. "It's time to move on, do my own ting, you know?"

The cool mask was already slipping back into place, as she looked down at her book once more. "Oh well, that's good to hear."

He looked at her, but her face was closed, her hands gripping the book tightly.

"I guess I should let you finish your work den," he said quietly. She made no reply. Feeling dismissed, he stood up and walked away. He was halfway down the pretty cobblestone path he had laid last year, when he heard her say his name. It was so soft and fleeting he might have missed it.

He turned to see her standing, the book overturned on the ground, her feet bare against the cold tiles. She walked toward him and stopped, seeming unsure of herself.

"Good luck with everything," she said softly.

He tried to remember if he had ever been this close to her, his nose barely inches from the top of her head as she looked up at him. The scent of her swirled around him as he gazed down at her face, the pixie-like haircut curling around her ears, her skin almost luminous in the glare of the setting sun.

Unable to restrain himself, Dwayne leaned forward and claimed her lips with his own. Yes, his mind whispered, as the brief protest in her eyes fluttered shut, as he explored the sweet taste of her, as she pressed her body closer to his.

His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach when she began to tug against the buttons on his shirt. He yanked it off quickly and kissed her harder this time, all but devouring her in his hurry. His hands itched to tear at her pretty lilac blouse, to pull her to the ground, to crush her white cotton shorts into the dirt beneath them. Instead he held back, wanting to preserve this perfect moment for as long as possible.

Suddenly she broke away from him and stepped back, her eyes bright and her chest heaving.

"Wait," she gasped. "Just ... wait." This is crazy.

He said nothing, just watched her and waited. She ran her fingers through her short curls and straightened her top, looking around almost wildly, like a trapped animal.

"You need to go."

"Why?" he asked. She stared somewhere past him and crossed her arms. "We shouldn't have done that."

"I love you," he said quietly, and she flinched as if he had hit her.

"What difference is that supposed to make?" she asked. He was surprised by the hostility in her voice. "How does that help me?"

He felt a sudden anger uncoil itself deep within him. "You mean, what can it buy you?" he said in a dangerously quiet voice. She lifted her chin defiantly and gave a deliberate shrug, her eyes cool and distant once more.

Dwayne decided to walk away before he said something he would regret. He left her standing on the edge of the patio, mosquitoes beginning to gather and a chorus of crickets rising as night began to fall.

He was still stewing an hour later when there was a soft tap at his door. He glanced through the window and blinked in surprise when he saw her standing there. He threw the door open and did his best to glower at her.

"What you doing all the way out here?"

She stepped past him without answering and waited for him to shut the door before launching into an anxious speech.

"I'm not just some prostitute, you know? I have school to pay for - law school - and I have to send money to my parents every week. They're old and they can't manage by themselves. I don't want to be with him, I can't stand being with him, but how I going manage on my own?"

Her eyes were red now and her voice slightly panicked. He felt the anger and resentment within him dissipate as he looked at her. Her lip gloss was gone, her hair mussed, her perfect, cool façade broken.

He took two steps, closing the distance between them and took her soft, small hand within his large, callused palm.

"I cyan help you, Alexia. I will do anything to help you."

She swept a hand across her eyes quickly. "I not looking for another man to take care of me. I don't want your money."

He pulled her towards him and brushed a finger across her lips. "What if I want to give you more than that?"

Before she could answer, he kissed her again, slowly this time, as though he could spend the rest of the night doing nothing else but mating his lips to hers.

Somewhere outside, the minutes ticked away, mosquitoes gathered for the evening hunt, a lone mongrel barked, music blared from a sound system down the street, cars rushed by, but they knew nothing but each other.