My mama always said Paradiso was like no other place on earth.
The instant I got off that bus, I knew she was right. A wave of wet heat smacked into me like a fist, snatching the breath from my lungs, stealing my strength. For a minute I just stood there, wobbling on the concrete, the sun beating down on my fair skin and turning the landscape into a shimmering patch of hell on earth. I realized I couldn’t breathe, and I began to panic. Mama was right, I thought. This was a mistake.
“You all right, darlin’?”
Startled, I looked over and saw Trouble with a capital T leaning against the terminal. My mind worked overtime to process all the bad-boy stereotypes on display, while at the same time marveling that nature could have produced such a perfect creature. Piercing blue eyes. Collar-length dirty blond hair. A jaw so chiseled the angels might have wept. His ripped jeans and leather jacket should have made him swelter in this heat, but he looked cool as a cucumber.
“I’m fine,” I managed, once I realized my lungs were working after all. “Thanks for askin’.”
“My pleasure.” His voice rolled low on the last word, starting a strange tingling deep inside my belly. His eyes traveled languidly down the length of me, openly appreciating the way my clothes clung to my body, sticky with sweat. “You new in town, or just gettin’ home?”
“New in town,” I said, unsure why I told him the truth. Mama had warned me above all else not to trust anyone I met, especially a man. Her angry voice echoed in my head, insisting her shame would follow me, that daddy loving and leaving her meant I would never find a home in the city. I’d tried to tell her things had changed in the twenty-two years since, but she refused to believe it. Now I wondered if I wasn’t destined to repeat her mistakes.
“That so.” Trouble peeled himself away from the wall, an unmistakable glint in his eye as he sauntered towards me. “In that case, you probably need some help gettin’ around. Learnin’ the ropes and such.”
Throat dry despite the oppressive humidity, I stammered, “Y-yes, I suppose I do.” Warning bells went off like submarine klaxons in my head, but I ignored them, mesmerized by those eyes and those lips, so full and sensual, and the way his jeans hugged his thighs when he walked…
“Why don’t you follow me, then, gorgeous?” Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed around the building. I hesitated only a moment before jogging after him. As I turned the corner, I saw him walk up to a shining hunk of metal and chrome, and groaned inwardly. Of course he had a motorcycle. Swinging a jean-clad leg over the seat, he revved the engine and grinned at me over his shoulder, a challenge in his eyes I’d have been blind not to see.
You’re asking for trouble, Mama’s voice scolded me. She’d been nagging me since the moment I left home, and I was tired of doing her work for her, work she’d begun months ago when I announced my intention to move to the big city. You’ll never make it, she’d said over and over again. That city will chew you up and spit you out again. You’ll be miserable. You’ll be destitute. You’ll wish you’d never left Bolton. If you leave, you’re gone. I won’t let you come crawlin’ back. You’re no daughter of mine.
She didn’t mean it, of course. My mama loves me with all her heart. But she wants me to stay a baby forever, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let that happen. Straightening my spine, I tightened the straps of my backpack (the only luggage I’d brought with me) and swung my leg over the seat, hugging his hips with my thighs. “Hold on,” Trouble told me as he put her into gear, and then we were flying out of the parking lot and into the steady stream of cars headed toward the city. They soon slowed to a crawl, but motorcycles are built for things like that, and we weaved expertly in and out of traffic, so fast I was forced to hold onto him for dear life. Not that I minded.
“Where you headed?” he called back to me as we passed the Welcome to Lovely Paradiso! sign. His silky hair tickled my cheek as I leaned forward to answer him.
“No idea.”
Laughter rumbled in his chest. I felt it beneath my hands, vibrating along the hard planes of muscle in his torso, ones my fingers itched to explore. Had there ever been anyone so dangerous?
“In that case, how about I show you a bit of the city?” he asked. I agreed before he’d even finished speaking, which made him laugh again. Oh, I was lost. Not an hour here, and already I was begging to be treated like my mama. She’d been right when she said I was too much like her for my own good. Worse was that, at the moment, I didn’t even care.
After about fifteen minutes, Trouble got off the highway and headed downtown, where the high-rise buildings thrust like giant’s fingers toward the sky. I saw the sleek black tower called the Nexus, for which Paradiso was famous, surrounded by its lesser counterparts, little ladies in waiting huddled around their dark queen. The main drag stretched on for miles, and we traversed the length of it, zipping nimbly in and out of traffic just as we had on the highway. I tried to pay attention to street signs, but we zoomed by them so quickly I was lucky just to hold on. It wasn’t until we turned onto West Fifth Street that I managed to get my bearings, and even then I had no idea where we were. The evening sun beat down upon my exposed head–no helmets for us, another wonderful decision on my part–turning my pale skin red. As we pulled into an open parking spot outside an Italian restaurant, Trouble ran his hand lightly across my thigh. “We’re here, gorgeous,” he said, and I shivered as goose bumps raced across my flesh.
“Where’s here?” I asked.
“Wait and see.”
I thought he was taking me to dinner, and my stomach rumbled, for I hadn’t eaten a thing that day except for one pitiful Pop-Tart. But instead he led me toward a beat-up black metal door next to the restaurant, one that had a neon 69 blazing above it like a beacon. Mama squawked angrily in my head, but I pushed her aside and followed him into a dimly lit room with plush velvet walls and midnight black tile. The fabric was so soft I longed to rub my irritated skin against it, but I resisted the urge. No sense in making a fool of myself. The beautiful club attendant looked at me haughtily, and I felt sure she knew that I didn’t belong there, that I’d been stupid enough to go off with the first man I’d met, that I was from some backwoods podunk town you couldn’t even find on a map. Blushing, I hung back while Trouble fished a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. She scanned it with some strange wand thingie and then handed it back.
“Enjoy,” she said flatly as I walked by, and I muttered “Thanks,” without thinking, because unlike her, my mama hadn’t raised me to be impolite. Then we were through the door, and she fell out of my thoughts altogether, because never in my life had I seen a place as fancy as this one. The furniture gleamed like it had never known a fingerprint or a scuff mark, the floor shone, and the massive bar was lit up like Christmas, advertising every brand of liquor under the sun. Even the air smelled expensive, perfume and cologne and some kind of strange incense that made me half intoxicated. Everywhere I looked, beautiful people laughed and drank and danced, all having the time of their lives. And there I was, sweating, in a Walmart tank top and short shorts.
“This way, darlin’.” Trouble reached for my hand, and I surrendered it without question. At least he didn’t seem to mind my appearance. Our eyes met, and I saw in his the same things I was feeling: the shock of excitement, the fierce tremble of desire. The rough skin of his palm sent shivers all through me.
“I’m Keira, by the way,” I said, figuring we ought to get acquainted before things went much further.
“Cain,” he said, smiling in a way that left little doubt as to where he thought that might be. And despite my better judgment, despite mama’s admonishments and the fact that I was penniless and alone in this vast, strange city, I had a feeling he was right.
Welcome to Paradiso, I thought. A city like no other place on earth.
Katia Cole 