Explore you, p.15
Explore You, page 15
"Oh, excellent, you're here. I wasn’t sure you would actually come,” a strange-looking petite lady greets me. She has crooked teeth, one of which is missing. Her wrinkled face appears as if she couldn't be any younger than ninety. She reminds me of the lady who hosts Tales from the Crypt. "Welcome to our humble little abode." She starts walking and talking with a country accent so deep I can barely make out her words. "The boss is going to meet up with you, she's got some concerns about opening this place up to the public and we need a good lawyer who’ll help us get ready."
"Well, I've never represented a tourist attraction before. You didn’t want somebody with more experience? May I ask why he requested me? In fact,” I say, pulling out my file, “I don’t believe I got your boss’s name.”
"You see, we have a special situation here. Our property it’s unique, very valuable, and we want to cover all of our bases legally. Especially when it comes to liability and nobody getting hurt on our property. Ensuring that the premises is safe, insurance coverage is adequate, the release from liability and consent forms are good and solid when people visit, and especially for the risky activities. We hear that you are a former athlete yourself, so you are especially sensitive to issues about safety, thrills, and risk. We knew you would lend your unique care and skill to this.”
Oh, great.
Another couple who are fascinated with swimming or running and they want to brag to their friends that a former Olympian represents them. Which will eventually lead to them wanting me to show up at their opening event, so I can pose for photos, and get them some extra local press coverage. That is really what they are paying for. And why my boss sent me.
The only reason I have this job is so that others can benefit from what I've done, while I am not benefiting from who I am.
"Okay.” I shove down all the resentment gassing up in my chest. No time for that right now. "So, where are we headed and what is this risky endeavor that you have?" I ask, pretending to be interested, sniffing back tears.
I cannot quit. I can't. This is necessary. For me to move up and ahead, I need to crawl before I walk. I can't have the high-profile assignments right away. Crawl before I walk. My mother’s voice rings through my ear. Chrissy’s life was not glamorous, not even when she was in Hollywood. She was married to a terrible man who treated her poorly. If she can endure that, who am I to complain that I'm a former Olympian who is an attorney making six figures and supported by incredible parents?
We march across a beautiful terrain of hard rock that dips and dives, passing a lovely waterfall that must have at least fifty-foot drop, gorgeous trees that have started to shed their leaves. Exactly the kind of natural surroundings I love. When we did not travel to the Hamptons, I would come to places like this during the school year and camp, hike, and swim with my teammates and school friends. I’m trying not to feel melancholy over the hopefulness I felt back then for my future.
Finally, near the underside of the waterfall, she leads me to a hole. It’s dark, with little to no lighting, and only about a yard in circumference.
"What's in there?" I'm a daredevil. I love trying new and crazy things. Everybody knows it. But I'm not so sure about this. "Can I have just one moment please?"
What if this is some kind of scam? One of those crazy set-ups we watch on Dateline NBC, where the murderer poses as a rich businessman when he's really a poor schmuck reeling in women and killing them, hiding their bodies away, and they don't get discovered for years?
“Nobody is coming with me? No escort?” Now that’s just damn strange. The owner of an establishment is usually here to meet their lawyer first, discuss the issue preliminarily, and then a tour.
“She's already inside waiting. It's not that far down. Just a straight shot, right on in.”
I stare down into that hole, and inhale one last breath of fresh air. Chenera Germany is no punk. I've never shied away from anything. Anything.
A part of me is terrified, and halfway certain I'm going to get hit over the head and I will never see the light of day again. But another part of me…
The curious, nosey, adventure-loving part wants to know what’s in that hole. The part of me I didn’t have to hide once Chrissy and Neera went off to college. I could finally be myself, and shed those stupid dresses, cotillions, pearls, and patent leather shoes. The real Cher could come out and play with snakes, swim as long as I wanted, get dirty as I wanted, and not give a shit what my hair looked like. That part of me wants in the hole.
I check the flashlight, make sure my boots are laced, strap on my backpack and descend down the curve of packed hard dirt, no wider than three feet.
Shooting a quick text to Neera or my mom, to inform them of my whereabouts, is out of the question with no signal. I’m a dumbass for not thinking of that sooner.
"Darlin’, it's all right. It really is. Ms. Sherman is a good lady. Just wants another woman in her corner is all.”
Me going in there is foolish. But the other part of me feels not going in there is not an option. As if me leaving the world behind is introducing me to an unlit part of myself.
I descend.
My hands stumble over packed Earth, over rough, reddish brown mixtures of rock and clay. I feel with my boots, one step at a time, making sure of my footing, digging for natural footholds. There are no actual steps yet, but rather spots where others have clearly been here, so I place my boots in their path and lower myself further.
Finally, I hear what sounds like water beneath me. Dripping slowly, it’s an inviting, tranquil trickle. The woman wasn’t kidding when she said this is unique.
Careful so I don't slide all the way down, I see reflections of light bouncing off water and onto the dirt ceiling. Creeping down further, my breath pauses.
Spikes shoot up from the Earth, long and tall. As well as spikes descending down from the dirt ceiling. As if an ice war was occurring in another era, and it was frozen in time and then covered with dirt. Stalagmites. And stalactites. A cave.
Well, at least if I die, my death will be interesting.
I finally reach the base of the cave and beyond the spikes and epic natural phenomena, turquoise water glistens, just a few feet away.
Mysteriously, candles line the pools of water.
“What is this?” I whisper. Shit.
When I’m tugged from behind me, I jump. And scream. I’m going for my mace in my sports bra just as I’m whipped around. Oh, hell, no! Fight mode! I pull it out and snap off the cap, but another hand clamps over mine.
“Cher.”
Even though we’re practically in the dark, his is one of the most beautiful faces I’ve ever seen. The illuminated water surface bounces off his face, still casting light on what God made perfect. His concerned features are calming.
Once again, I'm in a forest—his eyes. I'm shaking. With the turquoise blue water reflecting off the browns and greens in his irises, he looks like the universe is leaking from his brain.
I relax. I’m not going to die like I’m in a slasher movie, and even though my curious ass was stupid for coming down here, relief fills me. My head falls forward, and muscles melt.
Kevin is holding me tight, puffs of his warm breath skip onto my skin, he grips my hand over my head, so I don’t spray him. His forehead touches mine, but it takes a few seconds to process our closeness as my heart rate normalizes.
His arms around me is all of my childhood fantasies.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper, still trying to catch my breath. Our mouths hover close to one another.
“I called myself getting you away from your family,” he murmurs back. Our heads haven’t disconnected.
Now that the terror subsides and I realize who I’m with and what this is, I take a minute to process how I’m underground with Chrissy’s worst enemy. And being in his arms, us inhaling and exhaling, our bodies melding, feels as natural as the Earth surrounding us. Plus my titties are sizzling for him to touch them again. Damn. Not good.
Confusion and curiosity churn in my stomach. “Why do you need me away from my family?”
His mouth moves against my forehead. “So you can talk to me without worrying about your cousin finding out. Ask me whatever you want.”
DARK, SCARY HOLE OF KEVIN
KEVIN
She’s a little flabbergasted when she steps away from me. Cher starts sucking her cheeks in and breathing fast, like she’s trying to figure out if she should go.
“I shouldn’t be here. Why did you do this? The lady up there said a woman in here, named Ms. Sherman.” Her voice falters a bit, like she’s nervous.
“Ms. Sherman is my friend’s mother. But my friend and I didn’t tell that lady Ms. Sherman wouldn’t be in here. I wanted for you and me to talk. But it’s also clear you don’t want Chriselle to find out,” I explain.
A giant exhale seems to deflate her. “Kevin,” she snaps, turning from me. Her voice is shakily trying to be firm. “I wish you wouldn’t have. You have committed a lot of wrongs that you have not accounted for. So if you think you can bring me down here, and use me like some kind of tool to get back at my—”
“No.” I touch her waist, in my attempt to reassure her. “Chenera, you’re right and we can talk about all that. There is a lot to be addressed. But don’t just brush me off. You have also seen another side of me. I think in your heart, you knew I would be here. And that you might even be happy I did this. It’s clear you and I have chemistry. And I don’t want to fly all the way back to the West Coast without seeing what’s up with that. Will you agree to at least keep an open mind?”
She won’t face me. Which tells me she doesn’t trust herself to.
“We can talk.” Cher moves along the hardened stalactites connecting with the spikes that shoot up from Earth. “This is beautiful,” she whispers. “I’ve never been in one like this.”
“You’ve been in caves before?” I ask, mesmerized watching her be mesmerized. I’d had my doubts about whether this would work. Had questioned if she’d be interested, or disgusted.
“Only the Antelope Canyons in Arizona. Not exactly caves, but close. That’s all. When I was in college and we were traveling for a meet in Phoenix.”
“But you wanted to do more. Nature excursions.”
The pupils of her eyes slide from the natural phenomena in front of her to me. In her eyes, I can still see a little uncertainty— the same uncertainty I’m nursing. The reason we haven’t yet crossed the line. Without answering, she returns her gaze to the mineral formations. Runs her hands down the pointed spikes, descending from Earth.
“So you really loved Maddy.”
I swallow. “Maybe. Love, admiration, respect, or a combination of all those things.”
“You didn’t propose to her just to get your inheritance?”
“Now what sense does that make when I’ve got my own money to be investing in Explore? Lion and I have our disputes over family assets, but that’s sibling rivalry, not necessity.”
“So why were you so mean to her if you loved her?”
I try to press down the heat creeping over my upper body now. “I was having a tough time, and…” I try to find the right words without it sounding like I’m making excuses. “I took it out on people.”
“Took it out on girls,” she says.
“Yes,” I murmur.
Her thoughts seem to scatter across her face. “Twenty years ago?”
I think back in time, to when Dad took my arm and dragged me into a hotel. It was twenty years exactly last month. “Yes.”
But now I’m astounded. How did she know that? I cover her hand with mine. Slide my other hand around her slender belly. I’m not sure why I brought her here, or what I expected to happen. But I don’t regret that I did it.
Right now, she has touched a particular vulnerability in me. My deepest wound that I work hard not to let anyone see. And yet she sees it. My mouth is at the edge of her ear, where I whisper, “How did you know when I went through… things?”
Cher’s chest rises and falls a couple of rounds. She hesitates, her gaze darting around, as if she’s fighting a war in herself over how much to confide in me. How much to trust me. She finally whispers back, “I always paid attention to you.”
Now those words slide around my heart and hug it in a manner to which I am not accustomed from anyone beside my mother, aunts and grandmother. And sure as hell not from a woman on a first-date-adjacent experience. Cher and I melt against each other too damn easily. Our breaths are too heated when they mingle. My dick was already thumping from the moment I saw her figure coming down the dirt tunnel.
I turn to walk away and give her space, but she grabs the bottom of my shirt, stopping me.
The same lusty expression crosses her face that she had when I tasted her in her boat cabin. It’s a wrap.
My self-control breaks. There is no chain of thought, no more processing or restraint.
Shocking me, she grips my hair real hard, wrapping her fingers in it like she wants her nails to find my skull. Like she is intentionally goading me to get mad.
It does piss me off. I push her against the dirt wall and pin both her shoulders into the Earth. “That shit’s not cool, Cher!”
“That’s for my friends.” There is no remorse anywhere on her face. Her fucking haughtiness hardens my dick, turning it into one of those sharp, long stalactites.
When she clutches my length, her neck lunges toward my chest and she tries to bite me again.
I am not gentle when I cup my hand around her throat and push her back. “What the hell is wrong with you? How would you like it if I did that to you, huh?”
I dive my head into the crest just over her collarbone, bite the skin over her neck with my tongue.
“Aah, yeah,” she moans. Cher’s breathing heavy, tilting her head so more of her neck is exposed to me. “Just like that.” Her chest thrusts up, like it’s beckoning me. Shit. She likes it rough. When I stare at her in disbelief, she opens her eyes. Glares at me like she wants to fight, and will not rest until I give her her respect. “Stop treating me like I’m your kid sister!”
Our hands both grabbing and jerking, while our mouths dance around the obvious attraction, we pick into one another’s insides with our stares. “Let’s get through this cave,” I murmur, easing away and giving this intense, lava-like flow between us a chance to cool.
"So, why a cave? How did you know I could stomach this?"
"I didn’t. It’s why I invited you. To find out. Caves are fascinating. Hidden gems under the earth, concealed where we can't see them in order to destroy them,” he replies.
"The way the world tries to destroy you?" she asks.
Her insight into me hardens my stalagmite again when she sums up my situation perfectly. "Come on."
We proceed further into the cave, our boots creeping along the edges of the pool, our backs against the dirt wall. I reach back to pull her through the hole of a mineral formation.
“Careful,” I murmur while she grips me. We try hard as we can not to destroy the formations. Her hand finds my arm, and the way we lock together is instantaneous. An occasional glimpse at her face reveals that she’s into it- not terrified, or creeped out, or enduring it. But absorbing, her eyes dancing around in anticipation of each bend and new wonder in the journey. Cher’s eyes leave mine, start wandering around the dark. Runs her fingers along the jagged rock formations of calcium salts. This doesn’t take on the vibe of a date. But like we’re on the same trip. Her fingers find mine to steady herself, and I keep her close, until she and I feel like a mineral formation.
“Is this your cave?"
"No. A friend I attended Harvard with. His family owns a lot of petting farms and pumpkin patches, apple orchards and the like through the South, and they recently discovered this cave a few years ago. But now they want to do something with it. Open it up and give tours. Make it an attraction, destination spot with campgrounds. Maybe that glamping thing people are doing now,” he explains, while our boots step up and over low stalagmites. Lights have already been installed inside the pool to give it that luminescent beautiful turquoise coloring.
"How old is this?"
"He said the layers of lime date back at least fifty million years, possibly sixty in some areas."
We feel with our fingers as we keep moving. "And your friend allowed you in here? Without him?”
"This is where it literally pays to be me. I'll be making their app for bookings, exclusive memberships, and engagements. So this private treatment is part of our little arrangement.”
"And you’ll be tying their app into MoneyCruncher?" she asks with a snicker.
I snicker myself. “Don’t hate.” We’re on a dirt slope now, and she grabs the back of me to keep from sliding down the dirt. But she slides anyway, and her boot skids down a dirt incline. Earth crumbles under her shoes, and I immediately reach behind me, grab her and hold her up. She grabs a spike to keep from sliding further, several feet down, into the water. Not much danger involved, but I'd hate to mess up a place so pristine.
"Careful, Brat. You've only been here an hour and you're breaking shit already," I mutter, quickly folding her into me, catching a whiff of her lavender and sea salt that floats off of her.
“Or imagine me breaking my butt and you having to explain that to my dad,” she jokes.
“I’ll just tell him you fell while stripping for more football players. Who do you think he’ll believe? Me or you?” I joke back, before we laugh and push forward.
“How many women have you brought down here?” she asks. “I’ve heard the rumors, about you being on the hunt for a wife.”
“However many women that left snails in my shoes,” I answer. She grins.
“That might be a lot.”
“And a lot of women also swim naked through a rip current, huh?”
Her gaze shoots up at me, as if once again, she’s surprised that I see her.
“So you’re going to propose to me too now?” she asks.
