Accidentally in Love With…A God?(8)

By: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

He warned that reciting the phrase incorrectly could create some kind of bad energy. So hokey. “Yes, and I’m not saying it again.” I clenched my fists, preparing to resist his voice if he used it again.

“One more time.”

“I’ve got this. Okay? I’m driving straight through to that little village with the stupid name, Bacaloo—”

“Bacalar,” he corrected.

“Whatever.” Like it mattered. “Then I’m following the trail into the jungle.”

Damn. That sounded crazy. Was I really, really doing this? Yes. Yes, I was.

“And the cardinal rule is no—”

“Deviations,” I cut him off. He’d already given me the two hour lecture about how dangerous that part of Mexico was. Drug dealers were rampant near the border. Which made me wonder, were those the “bad people” who’d trapped him with a spell? If yes, holy crap, the world would be in heaps of trouble. The Mexican Feds would have to trade in their guns for Harry Potter books. “I get it. Can I finish packing, take a shower and get to bed now?”

“You know, I’m eternally grateful for what you’re about to do.”

I hated when he was nice to me. It just made me more confused about my feelings for him; mean was easy to leave. “Yeah, you keep saying that, but it’s not like you gave me a choice. And I’m not doing this for you—it’s for me.” It was both, actually, but he didn’t need to know. After I learned about him being trapped all these years, I felt sorry for him.

“Has it occurred to you?”


“That you might miss me once I’m out of your life?”

I can’t stop thinking about it, I thought. I’m terrified. No—relieved. No—terrified. He’d been a part of my life longer than I could remember. Sure he was a major pain, but I’d clearly grown attached. “I’ll miss you like an ingrown toenail.”

He laughed. “Ouch. Such a nasty bite you have, my little meerkat. But what if I said that our stimulating relationship does not have to end? I know this is what you secretly long for, to be by my side and gaze into my handsome, masculine face,” he said.

“Don’t. This isn’t a joke. You've ruined a significant portion of my life, and now you’re making me risk it just to get it back.”

“It wasn’t my intent to hurt you. You know that. You are by far the most important thing in my world. All I’ve ever wanted is to look after you.”

Did he truly see things that way? When I was little, I remember feeling like nothing in the world could harm me as long as he was around. But that feeling quickly ceased when I was six, after the school insisted I get a psychiatric evaluation. My hunch is it had something to do with me inexplicably singing the lines from Madam Butterfly in Italian—Guy’s favorite opera. I also kept insisting my imaginary friend was real. Sort of freaked people out.

Right after that, he said he had to leave for a while, but that he’d stay close in case I ever needed him. I was devastated, and for weeks, I begged him to answer me, but he didn’t.

When I was fifteen, he finally returned. He wouldn’t say why, but I suspected it was because I’d discovered boys. Sadly, they didn’t discover me back until I was much older, and by then, it was too late. I was hooked on the mystery of Guy.

Did he have any clue how hard it was to listen to the sound of his dark, melodic voice every day? Or to share my life with him, not knowing what or who he was?

He was an enigma my mind couldn’t stop trying to solve. And his refusal to give up the answers drove me to the brink of insanity. That’s what made my feelings so…so irrational. How could I pine for someone like that? Part of me loathed him. The other part ached for him.

“I am sorry, Emma. I sometimes forget that I am not the only one trapped.”

“What about you? Will you?” I picked up a pair of socks from the bed and began folding them into a ball.

“Will I, what?”

“Miss me.” I wanted him to say “yes.” I wanted to know I meant something more to him. I was a pathetic.

Several moments passed. “You see, you love being with me. Admit it, just say the words, woman,” he gloated.

Arrogant toad. “I think my actions speak for themselves, and they’re saying ‘take a hike.’ I’m flying two-thousand miles just to get rid of you.”

“Or, they’re saying ‘I’d do anything for you.’ After all, Emma, you are taking a huge leap of faith to free me. You have no idea what you’ll find.”

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