A Likely Story: A Wayward Ink Publishing Anthology

BOOK: A Likely Story: A Wayward Ink Publishing Anthology
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Published by

Wayward Ink Publishing

Unit 1, No. 8 Union Street

Tighes Hill NSW 2297

Australia

http://www.waywardinkpublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Birthday Gift Copyright ©2014 by Eric Gober

A Whale of a Time Copyright ©2014 by Asta Idonea

Dude Mama Copyright ©2014 by Michael P. Thomas

The Witching Hour Copyright ©2014 by kirifox

The Gift Copyright ©2014 by Frostina

Dr. Justin Gaylord Copyright ©2014 by Lily Velden and Taylin Clavelli

Perfect Copyright ©2014 by jn olsen

Chimera Air Copyright ©2014 by Taylin Clavelli

Wizard’s Spawn Copyright ©2014 by L.V. Lloyd

The Last Appointment Copyright ©2014 by Louise Lyons

Cover Art by: Jay’s Covers by Design

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other enquiries, contact Wayward Ink Publishing at: Unit 1, No. 8 Union Street, Tighes Hill, NSW, 2297, Australia.

http://www.waywardinkpublishing.com

ISBN: 978-1-925222-21-0

First Edition

Dec 2014

Paperback edition available

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-925222-20-3

Contents

The Birthday Gift by Eric Gober

A Whale of a Time by Asta Idonea

Dude Mama by Michael P. Thomas

The Witching Hour by kirifox

The Gift by Frostina

Dr. Justin Gaylord by Lily Velden and Taylin Clavelli

Perfect by jn olsen

Chimera Air by Taylin Clavelli

Wizard’s Spawn by L.V. Lloyd

The Last Appointment by Louise Lyons

Other WAYWARD INK PUBLISHING Anthologies

Also from WAYWARD INK PUBLISHING

AS I sipped my third gimlet, I sensed someone behind me. I’d never gotten lucky here before. Maybe today would be a first. I dreaded spending another birthday alone. I slowly spun around on my bar stool, hoping to find a man I’d be able to connect with.

No one was there.

I was certain I’d felt someone’s presence. Whoever it was couldn’t have gotten far. Van Halen’s
Runnin’ With the Devil
blared overhead as I surveyed the smoky casino. Glowing slot machines beep-beep-beeped at people feeding them money, dice flew at craps tables, and excited gamblers whooped. A cocktail waitress zipped by with a tray of margaritas. Beside the bar, a spinning wheel of fortune clickety-clacked. But not one soul paid me a bit of attention.

I returned to my gimlet. The woman sitting next to me marked a keno ticket with a black crayon. Smoke from her cigarette wafted toward my nose. I shooed the wispy thread, knowing damn well I was being ridiculous. I despised cigarettes, yet here I sat, inhaling haze so thick I could feel tar and nicotine pooling in my lungs. She rolled her eyes at me, set down the crayon, and left. The bar was all mine now.

Or was it? I felt breath on my neck and swiveled around fast.

No one was there.

I shuddered and thought about the night I’d been stalked downtown. I’d been young and so naïve. After lapping up six salty dogs while playing nickel slots, I’d howled when I won a hundred dollars. I’d moseyed with the loot to the casino’s parking garage, where three crooks ambushed me by my car. They’d blackened my eye, bloodied my nose, and stolen my jackpot, wallet, and watch.

I hadn’t won another jackpot since that night, and today my wallet was almost empty. Reflexively, I felt my wrist. I’d worn the Seiko that Shane had given me for my twenty-ninth birthday. I checked the time before discreetly securing the watch deep in the front pocket of my jeans. It was only one in the afternoon. But this was Vegas. Mayhem was possible 24/7.

Overhead, David Lee Roth’s wailing gave way to the first plaintive notes of Fleetwood Mac’s
Little Lies
. I retrieved my gimlet from the bar top and faced the casino. A man loitered by the wheel of fortune. His handsome form seemed like an illusion here among the ordinary folks wagering bets at slot machines and craps tables. His fitted black shirt showed off broad shoulders and a narrow waist, and his snug black jeans hugged an enticing backside. What were the odds he’d be interested in hooking up? He turned around, and I felt an odd déjà vu. His subtle crow’s feet, chiseled high cheekbones, sexy goatee, and smoldering dark eyes seemed familiar. Yet I was certain I didn’t know him. I’d never forget a face so striking.

“Like what you see?”

I realized I was staring. “Sorry. For a second I thought I knew you.”

“You seem familiar too.” He approached the bar. “I’m Dante.”

“I’m Nick.”

When we shook hands, he clasped the back of mine with his other, and I almost flinched. One of his palms was cool, the other hot. He didn’t release my hand, but instead turned it palm upward. I noticed a strange digital watch on his wrist. Its dark face was ringed with push buttons, all black except for one red, which stood out like a panic button. Its digits glowed a hot crimson. The hour, minute, month, and day were fixed, but the year flashed seemingly random numbers.

He saw me frowning at the watch. “Time’s a cruel thing, isn’t it?”

“Tell me about it. It’s my frigging birthday again. Another year down the drain.”

He lifted his overheated hand from mine and gazed at my upturned palm. “You’re forty.”

“Good guess.”

“That wasn’t a guess.”

“No?”

“No.” He was serious.

I decided to play his game and opened my palm wider. “Tell me something else.”

He leaned closer and studied my mangled and broken lines. “Time’s made you a loner. You lost two people about ten years ago. Your mom… and a young man. They both loved you a lot.”

He was dead right, yet I eyed him skeptically. He had to be employing a trick. If he were a con man, he’d chosen the wrong mark. I had nothing to lose but my Seiko, and one of us would end up in the morgue if he tried to take that from me. I sucked down the rest of my gimlet and feigned being his sucker. “See anything worth a damn in my future?”

He leaned even closer and squinted at markings. “That’s very odd.”

“What?”

He tapped an X etched into the heel of my hand. “This cross is going to disappear. You’re going to get another chance at happiness.”

“Is that right?”

He nodded, not seeming to detect my disbelief. “I think I can make it vanish tonight, but only if you come upstairs to my room.”

I wasn’t sure if he was flirting, serious, or trying to con me. He certainly was appealing though. His smoldering dark eyes stirred feelings I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Hm, what’s your process entail? Chopping off my hand and setting it on fire? Or removing the cross with battery acid?”

He didn’t laugh. “Come with me and find out.”

His enigmatic answer failed to instill me with confidence. Why was everyone I encountered since I’d lost Shane so odd? I studied his face. I still wasn’t certain I could trust him. However, I’d had just enough gin to gamble. I set down my empty glass and stood up. “All right, but just so we’re clear, I want to get naked with you.”

“I know exactly what you want. I’m going to give you the birthday gift of your dreams.”

WHEN HE swung open the door, I tried not to look surprised. I’d figured his room was going to be nice when we rode the elevator to the top floor. But I hadn’t expected a penthouse larger than my apartment and a hundred times more luxurious. He pointed to the bar. “Help yourself to whatever you want.”

He entered the master suite at the other end of the penthouse and closed the double doors, leaving me to wonder how he afforded such posh chambers. After inspecting the plush couches and settees, oversized mahogany table and desk, goliath media center, and cabinet stocked with enough booze to intoxicate Attila’s army, I relaxed a bit. I knew for certain he wasn’t going to try to weasel me out of my Seiko.

I made myself a strong gin and tonic, and nursed it by the wall of windows as I gazed at the city below. Time had drastically altered Las Vegas. Blown to bits were the Dunes, Sands, Stardust, Desert Inn, and once-futuristic-looking Landmark tower, where my mom had slaved as a cocktail waitress. From their rubble and shattered neon lights had risen the gleaming Wynn, Encore, Aria, Bellagio, and Cosmopolitan. But even now, shinier, grander towers were springing from the desert floor that would end the reign of today’s trendiest gambling palaces.

I squinted and searched beyond The Strip for the tiny tan stucco tract house in North Las Vegas where I’d grown up. My mom must have served a hundred thousand cocktails to buy that home for her and me. Not far from our house was the hospice where she’d spent her last days sneaking cigarettes before lung cancer took her from me forever. To the west was her favorite place in the world, the snow-capped peak of Mt. Charleston. I’d scattered her ashes on that mountain among the pines. Before Shane had shipped out, he’d told me to scatter his ashes there, too, if anything happened to him.


I want to be with your mom. I know she loved me. Don’t let my folks bury me in my hometown because all the haters and bigots I knew growing up will spit on my grave.”

I’d chewed him out for being grim, and then promised he’d never have to go back to his hometown again. But when his body returned from Iraq, I was powerless. I couldn’t stop his parents—who had disowned him for being gay—from burying him in Shannon, Mississippi. If we’d been able to marry back then, he’d have gotten his wish.

I shook my head and drew the drapes so I didn’t have to look at the mountain.

The doors to the master suite opened. Dante beckoned me and retreated. I set my half empty glass on the bar and made my way into the spacious, sunny room. Still in his black attire, he stood before another wall of windows, looking like a shadow against the bright blue sky. He motioned a
come here
with his index finger. The gesture wasn’t playful or coy; he was being commanding. I fought an urge to turn around and leave, and instead walked toward him. He was so unlike Shane I doubted there’d be any real chemistry between us. But when his lips met mine, his kiss set off a chain reaction. Erotic feelings I hadn’t felt in ages seethed inside me. I kissed him back, relishing the minty taste of his mouth and sexy feel of his goatee. Getting between the sheets with him was going to help me forget about everything for a little while. I pulled away and started for the California king bed topped with a dozen fat pillows and a comforter emblazoned with a dizzying gold design.

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