We’re moving very slowly down the street because the street is packed with so many people. Music fills the air with heavy rhythmic beats, hitting us from all sides.
The Junkanoo used to be held only on December 26th, but to capitalize on the tourism business, Nassau now has several festivals a year, all involving costumes and street parades.
The air is thick, the music is driving, and there are what feels like millions of people. Vendors sell everything from glo-sticks to diamond jewelry. Performers are everywhere, in costumes of every variety. Dancing girls throw odd lights into the air, do somersaults, then catch the lights as they fall down again. The lights vanish completely as if they were never there.
A laser light show brings several corpses out of coffins where they seemingly float in the air to an upright position. When their eyes open, they glow as if lit by flashlights from behind.
The locals are all in costumes, scurrying past and around the tourists. I bet they’re paid performers, though. Real Bahamians must be sick of this.
“Lukas is in a house around the next corner,” says Lorena. “He is on the second floor, outdoor deck with a gathering of ladies.”
“How do you know this?” I say. She just smiles at me and takes a fake puff while patting my knee.
Note to self:Practice not answering questions by just smiling. Powerful shit. I’ll skip the fake cigarette, though. That’s just cheesy. I need to tell her sometime. But then again, who cares? She’s old. If you make it to eighty, do whatever the fuck you want.
The car rounds the corner, the amazing asses of three girls in masks and tinsel fringe bikinis parting to let the car through.
The house appears on my right. My heart beats out of my chest.
It’s one of those old, traditional Bahamian houses. The recipe is simple. Start with a basic two-story New England wooden house then add balconies all around. Make sure you put fancy designs all around the moldings and railings. Oh, and paint it in bright colors, naturally.
The second floor balcony of this one, which is a bright peach with white trim, is teeming with girls. Some are wearing nothing but bikinis. Others are in costume wear. All seem to have drinks.
Then I see him.
My heart leaps out of my chest.
There he is. Right in the middle. Laughing and holding a drink with that carefree expression that he pulls off so well, just like at Lorena’s party which feels like a century ago now.
Damn. He’s got two girls with their arms around him.
Well, of course he does, Abigail! He’s Lukas Thorn. He was probably born with two girls with their arms around him.
Everything but him vanishes again. The world rights itself around its center of existence there on that balcony. All that has been confusing me lately — my dad, Trevor, Karissa’s disappearance . . . fades away.
Lukas Thorn is again in his usual white flowing oversized shirt, open almost to his waist, those spectacular pecs on display for the entire world to reach out and grab. The shirt would look goofy on most men, but it so works on him.
Black jeans again. Good. I hate men in shorts, even if it is five thousand degrees and the humidity is as thick as melting rubber.
On a side note, I think I’m getting used to the humidity now. I don’t sweat as much. My body’s thermometer must be adjusting to it or something.
“Pull over here,” says Lorena. The car moves to a spot under the balcony. “Are you ready?” says Lorena.
I grip the transmitter tightly and tap the earpiece. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Vargas gets out of the car and opens the passenger door. I get out. He gets back in and drives off with Lorena, leaving me standing all alone naked in the middle of the street.
I glance up at the people on the second floor wraparound deck of the Bahamian house. Everybody is looking at me.
Everybody except for Lukas Thorn, that is. He’s too busy talking to a dark-skinned Latina girl, his nose in her hair as he whispers into her ear.
Bitch.
Oh yeah? Well, watch this!
I start to dance.
Lorena brought in a dance coach to teach me some sexy moves. I remember seeing Karissa making some of them at T’s. I do not have the luxury of a pole in the middle of this street, though.
A gasp of giggles and “Oh my Gods” hits the second floor of the house as all the girls stare at me.
I gotta admit, it’s incredibly exciting to be dancing naked in the middle of a crowded street, even if it’s not readily obvious that I’m naked. Not to mention the fact that so many people are looking at me.
But not Lukas Thorn!
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
The music is loud and everywhere, so it’s not hard to gyrate to a beat. I kick it up a notch, running my hands all up and down my body.
“Is she naked?” says one girl. “Oh my God, she is!”
At that moment, a taxi comes down the street, lighting me up with its headlights. Perfect. I freeze in a dance pose with one arm up.
That does it.
Lukas Thorn looks down at me.
But does he recognize me?
The taxi honks its horn, but I don’t move.
Our eyes lock. It’s like before. We connect through that strand of ethereal matter that exists only between us.
Yep, there it is. I feel it. It’s like an electrical charge from another galaxy. Sorry, Trevor. I love you and all, but no man on earth besides this living breathing beast does this to me. I have no idea what it is. All I know is that I love it.
I smile up at him, knowing my eyes look like a creature rising from the depths of the planet Neptune.
As usual, his expression is blank, with that damned little half-smile like he’s mildly amused. He takes a gulp of his drink without breaking the stare. The girls around him are trying to recapture his attention. Some are making faces at me.
Do you recognize me, Lukas? Do you?
Lorena coached me on what to do next. It goes against my instinct, because I have to fight the urge to run into the house, up the stairs, and throw myself onto him.
But I do exactly the opposite. I put a big seductive smile on my face, then bend over while bringing my finger up to my mouth while facing him. Just as it nears my chin, I give him the “come here” wiggle with my index finger.
Then I slowly turn and walk away from him across the street.
God, that was hot! Oh my God, did I really just do that?
I feel so goddamned sexy. All the people looking at me. The taxi honking its horn. Guys drooling. Girls drooling. Lukas Thorn in shock.
I’m giggling inside as I sway my hips slowly through the crowd.
Slow down, Abigail! Slow down! You want him to be able to catch up with you!
This is the hardest part. What if he doesn’t follow me?
Lorena told me not to look back. Just keep going, knowing he would follow. Why? Why is she so sure that I am something special to him?
I have to keep forcing that thought out of my mind. I cannot allow myself to really believe that I could truly be something that special to Lukas Thorn . . . well, not yet anyway. I need to keep my cool.
I’m almost out of sight of the house now. I can see the ocean straight ahead. The ancient houses leading down to the next intersection are lit up like a thousand Christmas trees. Revelers everywhere gawk at me.
For the first time in my life, I’m completely comfortable with people staring at me. So powerful. So energizing. I feel like I can do anything.
I’m laughing inside at how even the people walking along the street part for me. It’s like I’m placing a trance on everyone. What are they thinking? Do they think I’m hot? Or are they frightened at the surreal beast girl?
Or can they really tell I’m naked? Some can, I’m sure . . . those who know what to look for.
I’m almost at the post on the street corner. I see it ahead at the intersection up ahead. Lorena said to turn and lean on it.