We Are Tempted By Our Own Desires


We Are Tempted By Our Own Desires


We Are Tempted By Our Own Desires

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“What’s that?” My gaze darted back to the street. “I thought I heard something.”

It had been faint, but I was certain it wasn’t a bird or cat crying in the distance. It sounded like footsteps. And now there was definitely some movement up ahead on the sidewalk, near where we were parked. Someone was walking right toward us—from where?

The street was empty and all our windows were closed, so whoever this person is must be close enough for me to hear them from inside. Or maybe my ears are tricking me as they do sometimes. We’d only left the house a couple of minutes ago, though; I hadn’t even had time to get comfortable. There shouldn’t have been anyone around who could sneak up on me.

But what if someone is hiding somewhere nearby and trying to scare us? Maybe one of the people in that alleyway with the broken window has followed us into town to harass us further… or maybe he or she has come here looking for trouble.

That was exactly what it looked like when I glanced down at myself. I’m not wearing any weapons and we’re parked in the middle of the street, making sure everyone can see how harmless we are, just minding our own business. If we look anything like a target, then it’s no wonder someone would try to attack us.

Still, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that it wasn’t really happening. That was unbelievable talking. I should know better than to believe that kind of nonsense. But the hairs were standing straight up on the back of my neck anyway.

When we reached the corner, I pulled out my phone, checked the time, and saw that it was almost nine-thirty. I was still too early to call Dr. Covington about my dream, but now seemed like a good opportunity to ask him another question:

Was everything in my head all right? Did he think I needed help? He had to think we were nuts, but he wasn’t going to tell me otherwise unless he had a reason. Right now was probably not the best moment to make the call, given that my senses told me someone was stalking us.

Still, I wanted to talk to him again soon, so I sent an email and turned the screen away while he answered. After I hung up, I put the phone back in my pocket.

The streetlights were casting deep pools of light against the pavement in front of us, but nothing was moving anywhere near our car.

“You don’t think someone’s following us,” I said when I’d finished reading. “Right?”

“No way.” Jack stretched his arms above his head, yawning hugely. “Whoever it was must have gone somewhere else once they realized we weren’t stopping.”

He was right, of course. But that didn’t mean the same person wouldn’t follow us somewhere later. I kept staring in the direction of the sidewalk, watching for the next sign that someone was trying to sneak up behind us.

The lights went out in a few of the buildings and suddenly it got much darker. It was like someone had turned the night switch down. I felt more vulnerable now than when there had been plenty of daylight.

Jack reached into the glove box and took out a pair of cheap binoculars. We never used them anymore—they were too bulky for our purposes and they’d been damaged beyond repair after one of the boys dropped them over a cliff.

They were worthless junk and I hadn’t bothered replacing them until now because there wasn’t anything interesting to see in this area of town anyway. But now he was holding them, peering through them. What did he expect to see? I wondered if he was looking for the same thing I was. I wished we’d brought along a shotgun or two to protect ourselves.

My heart jumped as we passed by a dark storefront, then sank when I saw it was a bar called the Old Saloon. This wasn’t the place, but we both slowed down to check it out. It looked like a typical dive with its cracked plaster walls and dingy interior. A few patrons sat on the wooden chairs and couches, drinking and chatting in low voices. No one was paying us any attention whatsoever.

The air smelled of stale beer and tobacco smoke and the floorboards creaked as we walked past. The bartender smiled at us and nodded at the open door, motioning us to come on in if we wanted to order something.

She was a short, plump woman whose long black hair was pulled back tightly into a ponytail, which made her face look even rounder. She wore a tight white tee that showed off her ample bosom and a faded blue vest over it, which matched the apron she had thrown over her shirt.

Her eyes were small and beady and she had big cheeks that made her look friendly, but not exactly bright. She had a tattoo running up from under her ear across the side of her neck and down her chest, but I couldn’t quite make out what it was, although it reminded me of some kind of reptile.

There weren’t many other customers, only four men sitting around at the tables, drinking and laughing loudly, talking about the upcoming hunting season. There was a dart board, a jukebox and a pool table, plus a couple of guys shooting billiards at the far end of the room.

One of them was missing a tooth and his nose was broken, leaving a hole instead of a tip; another guy had a huge bruise on the side of his face, which was turning purplish and yellow as it began to swell.

I tried to look relaxed, casual, and uninterested, but I couldn’t help glancing around, keeping my ears tuned in. Nothing suspicious, though. Just loud, rowdy people having fun. No sign anyone was waiting in the shadows, ready to pounce. My skin prickled all over, making me feel like every sound and vibration was dangerous. I was suddenly aware that we were walking toward the jukebox, so I moved quickly to get us on our way.

We passed another doorway, but I thought better of going inside. We were getting too close, so we stopped outside the entrance and peered around again. It looked deserted, but we waited patiently while we watched the windows. When the coast seemed clear, Jack grabbed me by the arm and pushed me ahead of him.

Once we were inside, I was relieved to find the bar empty except for the bartender and the bouncer, who was sitting at the end of the counter. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his khaki shorts and he looked bored, leaning back against the wall with one foot crossed over the opposite knee.

He was tall and skinny and wore a faded red tank top, showing off an impressive amount of chest hair. I noticed he was wearing gloves.

I ordered a Coke from the bartender—she didn’t recognize the name of the drink, so I asked for the closest thing, which ended up being a Sprite. She handed it over without asking for payment, which meant I had to pull out a ten-dollar bill and leave it on the counter. Then she pointed at the jukebox and told us it cost fifty cents per song, which would be added to our tab.

As soon as Jack took over, the bouncer got up, moving to stand behind him so he could keep an eye on us. We didn’t mind; we were just glad to have someone between us and everyone else. We went over and stood at the other side of the machine, where we couldn’t hear anybody talking or making noise.

I turned up the volume and put in a nickel, playing the first song that came to mind: “Sitting on Top of the World” by the Allman Brothers Band. I’d always loved their music and this particular album had a hauntingly beautiful sound that made me want to close my eyes and picture myself sitting high up on a mountain somewhere, surrounded by snow-capped peaks.

A second later, I felt something brush against my leg, causing me to jump. Jack chuckled softly. “Sorry,” he whispered, patting his hand on his thigh.

After finishing half the can of Coke, I set it down and reached into my pocket for the money, which was still there and hadn’t been touched. As soon as I withdrew it, I glanced up and saw the bartender watching me closely. I smiled at her, hoping she would let us pass, but instead she held a finger to her lips as if to say, “Shhh.”

So I put the money away again and waited to see what she was going to do. But she just leaned across the counter and whispered something to the bouncer.

Then we heard the jukebox begin to play, but not because it was a song I’d chosen—it was coming from a different direction. I was confused until I realized the other door we’d passed must have led outside. Now, after hearing the sounds of singing and clapping hands coming from that doorway, I knew it would lead to more stairs going down below us.

My heart sank when I saw that the doors were closed so we wouldn’t be able to escape that way.

The next thing we heard was a woman’s voice singing along with the band; there were two girls standing right outside, so near that I could tell they were twins. One was wearing jeans, a short black tee, and a denim jacket; the other girl had on a flowered sundress, with her arms wrapped around her stomach and her head tilted back in time with the music.

They sang along with the such passion that if it had been any other night, I might’ve enjoyed it, but everything about it seemed wrong to me now, like some kind of twisted game.

They were so close to us, I could see the blonde in the sundress had freckles on her shoulders, but the brunette didn’t. I stared at them, trying to figure out how they’d gotten here without me seeing them.

“I thought you said she wasn’t working tonight.” Jack sounded tense.

“She isn’t,” the woman behind the counter replied quietly, then looked over at us. The bouncer was also watching me, although he kept his face carefully blank.

I gave him my best smile, which didn’t look convincing even to me. I didn’t know why we were here, so I decided to make it seem as though we weren’t worried about anything happening to us. “Maybe you should let us go,” I suggested in a calm, soothing tone, knowing we probably looked pathetic as hell. I couldn’t remember what the word for weak-minded people was, but that’s what we were.

That was when the brunette in the sundress spoke. “Let you go? Are you joking?” She turned slightly so her brother could hear her. “We’ll only let you go when your body is dumped somewhere.”

“Why would—” I started to ask before stopping when she answered. She was too young to be so angry at us. I looked over at Jack to see what he thought. He shook his head once, then shrugged and turned to the bar. “So you’re telling us to wait until someone kills us.”

Her mouth opened and closed several times, but she didn’t answer. Instead, both of her hands moved to the door, pushing it open so we could step outside. Jack grabbed my arm to stop me from doing so and the twins glared at him; it was obvious they weren’t impressed with his reluctance.

Once I was outside, I looked around me and tried to see how far this place stretched. We were in an alleyway between buildings that were all connected by wooden walkways above our heads, but there were no lights anywhere and nobody else seemed to be using it. It appeared as though it went on forever.

“What are we supposed to do?” Jack asked as we continued walking.

He was right: There was nowhere we could run to.

“Wait,” I told him. Then I stopped. “Oh.”

“Uh-oh.” He stopped, too, turning to look back at the club.

There was a light shining through the front windows, so I assumed that was where the band played. I was surprised to find there were four of them, including the blond woman who’d sung along earlier.

It had been dark inside the bar, so I hadn’t seen that their costumes were really just skimpy outfits—a long dress for the tall brunette, a tight red top and a short skirt for the blonde and leggings and a bra for the tall girl in blue. The fourth guy was wearing a shirt, tie, and slacks, so he looked like the singer. As far as I could tell, he was the only one who actually looked like he belonged here.

I took several deep breaths while staring at the four of them; none of their expressions changed.

The blonde finally spoke. “Do you want us to sing?”

I didn’t reply, so Jack said, “Yes. We want you to sing.” His eyes shifted to the bartender.

She was smiling. “You mean to tell me you don’t know that every customer gets a private concert when they come in?” She nodded toward the band members. “These guys aren’t going anywhere.”

“Then you should tell them not to sing anymore,” Jack snapped. “Or maybe just let us go.”

She shook her head as she walked toward the bar. “Nope. No way.” Her eyes focused on me, but they softened when she added, “But you can dance.”

I didn’t think dancing would help, but then again I wasn’t sure if it could hurt. And we were already stuck here, so I might as well have some fun. Besides, it was better than standing still while being threatened by these girls.

Jack sighed. “This is not how we expected our evening to turn out.”

The brunette’s face grew serious. “No kidding. You guys must be pretty dumb to get kidnapped by a bunch of stupid chicks.”

My mouth dropped open and Jack snorted. I felt my cheeks heat up and knew I was blushing. That didn’t change how much that stung. “Who says we’re dumb?” I demanded.

Their mouths opened and closed several times, and then the blonde asked, “Is she saying she’s dumb?”

“Yeah.” Jack nodded emphatically. “I’m guessing you weren’t paying attention during sex education or whatever classes are given in high school.”

They stared at us for a few seconds and then burst into laughter. The rest of the men joined in, too. They were clearly used to playing this game and having it work with the customers who came to listen to their music. When they finished, they smiled widely and bowed.

“Thank you for choosing our establishment tonight, gentlemen.” The tall brunette said, then pointed behind Jack. “If you’d follow my sister to the table in the back corner of the club, you’ll find two bottles of our house brand waiting for you.”

Jack looked at me and shrugged. I followed the brunette down the wooden walkway that extended to a small square room in the back of the club. The ceiling was low enough that I had to duck to avoid hitting my head, and the walls were covered with colorful pictures of the band.

At least that was what I thought they were; the light from the stage illuminated the area around them, so they appeared brighter than anything else in the building.

We passed under an archway before stepping onto a wide wooden floor. Two more couples were sitting on benches against the wall near the door, each holding a bottle. I wondered if any of them were part of the band or maybe employees working here, but it looked like we were the only ones who’d chosen this spot.

Once we reached our table, the brunette pulled out the chair on my side. It didn’t take long to notice there weren’t many other people there. We were probably one of the largest groups of customers since we entered the club, although it was hard to guess just how many people had visited over the past few days.

As she pulled out my chair, the brunette turned her eyes to the empty space between my feet. I couldn’t see much because of the table, but I got the feeling she was looking at someone or something. “Are you ready, Jack?” she asked.

He looked confused for a moment until she continued. “Okay. Are you guys ready? Then please stand next to your partner.”

“What are you talking about?” Jack demanded. “Where’s the band?”

“Oh.” The brunette grinned. “Sorry about that. I forgot to mention that the band is actually all of us except the drummer. But we can play for you without him if you’d prefer.”

“That’s not necessary,” Jack replied. “Why do you have us doing something like this, anyway?” He looked at me.

“Because you’re going to enjoy it,” I told him. My gaze traveled over the four women standing by the table. One was short and thin with dark brown hair cut short at the base of her neck and shaved at the sides and top; another had longer hair that curled in a wavy line above her shoulders.

A third was taller and heavier, wearing a black leather jacket with the hood thrown up and a pair of jeans; and the final member seemed shorter and lighter with straight hair down to her lower back and a white tank top that matched her skin tone perfectly.

The End

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