His Favorite Sin

6.2: CAGED BIRD

Present

There was a time Cora loved birds. In fact, she used to be such an animal lover, especially of smaller animals. But after a few years living in the Dvorak mansion, she avoided the sight of them because she knew that if they could see her, then he could see her.

The sparrow perched on the bench’s backrest reminded her of an orange bird she once encountered. This whole place—the garden, the trees, the bench, Lance—it all gave her a chilling sense of déjà vu. If she had been smart then, had listened to the warning bells in her head and ran, her life would have been a whole lot different now, a whole lot better. But she had ignored the signs, and every wrong step of hers led her to this very moment.

Every step closer to Lance left a heavy weight on her heart that made breathing hard. She regretted putting on a turtleneck underneath her coat because it now felt suffocating, even in the open surroundings. Her eyes shifted between Lance and the small bird until she finally came to stand directly in front of him in her boots with her purse in one hand. His smile remained, unnerving her with his silence. A slight breeze blew by, picking up the unshoveled leaves around them.

‘Hi.’ She didn’t know what else to say, how to navigate this. Internally, Cora was a nervous wreck filled with doubts and uncertainty about this meeting. All the way here, she kept thinking of telling Tammy to turn the car around, but resisted the urge, and here she finally was.

Lance still hadn’t said anything, didn’t reply; he just kept his smirk with his head angled up at her as the sun reflected off his shades, and she shifted nervously on her feet.

‘Are you just going to remain quiet?’

His smile broadened, and he leaned back into his seat. ‘I was just admiring.’ He finally said, and in response, her eyes shifted to the bird perched near his shoulders, locking with those tiny brown circles that were pinned on her, evoking a familiar feeling that caused the hairs on her arm to stand erect.

‘You’ve changed.’ Cora’s gaze snapped back to him as he sat up straight.

‘I had to,’ was her curt reply. ‘Thank you for agreeing to meet me.’

‘Anything for you.’ His smile turned into a wicked grin, and he tilted his head to the seat beside him. ‘Please, sit with me.’ She didn’t want to sit, though. Just standing over him gave her some sense of power, even though she knew she had none here.

She moved and sat close to the edge, keeping enough distance between them with the sparrow remaining in its perched space on the bench’s backrest. Lance noticed this and his lips quirked up at the side in amusement.

‘I’m not signing the contract,’ Cora announced. ‘Not until my conditions are met.’

‘Go ahead,’ Lance surprisingly encouraged, no opposition yet.

She cleared her throat, ‘I want to be free—’

‘I never locked you up.’

‘You know what I mean,’ She quipped back and took in a deep breath before continuing. ‘I want to be free of you and your family. I want my life back! No more running or hiding like I have done for the past seven years. You can have the book and all its rights. You don’t even have to publish it; I don’t care. I won’t fight you for it. Just please... don’t kill me... or my friends.’ The last part came out almost as a whisper. Her throat felt clogged. Her eyes were brimming with tears now as she let out her pent-up frustration. Desperation gripped her, and she realized she would give up anything just to feel free again. She was ready to plead with all she had.

Cora searched her purse for her handkerchief to dab at her eyes, so she wouldn’t ruin her mascara, but a movement beside her halted her. By the time she looked up, Lance had closed the distance between them, startling her when she found his face so close to hers.

His hand brushed its way up to her jaw, lightly skimming over her skin to her cheek, where he wiped away a tear that had escaped while she went frozen in her seat. ‘Please, don’t cry.’ His face had lost all trace of amusement, and his palm remained on her cheek. ‘I’m not here to kill you, Miss Dahlia. You’re very important to me; I thought you already knew that. I may have been a little theatrical with the prickly rose on your kitchen counter, but it was only an act of pettiness from my broken heart to get back at you for running away from me those years ago. I hadn’t expected that of you. I thought we were friends.’

Cora stared at him, stunned. They had been friends, but he had no right to make her feel guilty for leaving after what he did. ‘You... you killed someone.’ She whispered, wide-eyed, between them so the breeze couldn’t take her words far.

‘Fair.’ He smiled, amused, and she felt the cold air on her cheeks as he took his warm hand away. Her eyebrows furrowed at the lack of guilt he displayed as he leaned back into his seat, stretching one arm to rest on the backrest behind her; her attempt to keep some distance between them was crushed.

‘But still, I would never hurt you. You’ve told me all you want from me; you want to be as free as a bird because you think I’ve kept you in a metaphorical cage. I understand.’ He nodded. ‘Now, can I tell you what I want from you?’ Her puzzlement deepened her furrow.

‘I thought it was my book you wanted?’

Lance chuckled, and she felt his fingers pick apart a strand from her ponytail behind, lightly tugging at it. ‘You did create an extraordinary piece that took my attention, considering what it was about, and I more than enjoyed it, but that’s not all that brought me to you.’ Dread filled her heart from his words, and she turned anxious, thinking of what else she had that he thought she could possibly give. ‘I miss your curls.’ He pulled again at her flat-ironed straight strands and curled a piece around his fingers.

Cora couldn’t recall the last time she let herself leave the house with her hair in its natural curly afro. For years, she made sure to always use a blow-dryer and straightener till every strand appeared glossy and straight to the ends, an attempt to alter her identity further. She considered bleaching or dying it, but with all the heat of straightening, that would just damage her weak, fine hair even more and potentially cause her to go bald.

‘I want more from you, Dahlia,’ He declared beside her ear as he moved in so close that she could feel his breath on her skin. ‘And I will have it. Don’t worry, in time, I will let you know all I want. In the meantime, let’s just go ahead with the contract.’

‘Why are you doing this? I already promised I would cause no harm.’ Cora couldn’t understand what more he could possibly want from her, a nobody. She had asked for this meeting with the intention of getting her freedom from him, but it turned out he was attempting to ensnare her even more.

‘I know you won’t, and I am not worried you will. I already promised you I’m not here to hurt you, but I am not letting you out of my life again, either.’ He promised.