A Stranger in the Garden

A Stranger in the Garden

“Darn it!” I say in a hush and look around to see if anyone heard me. I tuck my blonde hair behind my ears nervously. Then proceed to grab some of the fancy napkins off the ornately decorative snack table and begin to furiously scrub at the tiny spots of red wine that I’ve managed to splash onto my very expensive dress. I knew I shouldn’t have worn such a light yellow, but it’s spring and yellow is such a happy color. I knew my cousin would approve of the choice.

I didn’t even want to come to this wedding, but my cousin had insisted that she needed my support. This is her big day, and she wanted to celebrate it with as much family as possible. But this elaborate garden and fairy-like setting just makes me feel small. It’s not exactly my ideal setting, but it makes her happy.

“If you keep scrubbing like that, you’re bound to make it worse.” I hear a male voice say from behind me. I turn around expecting to see another cousin or an in-law, but instead I’m met with a tall, endearing man I’ve never seen before in my life. And he’s looking at my cheerful dress with pity. 

I release a pronounced sigh. “I don’t have another dress or I would change. Normally, I’m not such a klutz. Maybe it’s because I feel so out of place here.” I laugh nervously and drop my shoulders, now pitying my dress as well.

”You don’t seem out of place to me. You’re beautiful. Even if your dress has a couple of spots.” He gives me a soft, genuine smile and I know he means what he’s saying. “Why did you come if you feel so out of place?”

I shrug my shoulders slightly in response. “My cousin, the bride, begged me. I wouldn’t have come otherwise. She knows I don’t like these sorts of things.” 

“Ah, I see. You’re the support, right?” He smiles again.

”Yeah. That’s what she called it, at least.” I laugh.

”Then why aren’t you ‘supporting’ right now?” He questions me.

”I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.” I say. He has a point.

”You know what, I don’t feel very included here myself. This isn’t really my sort of thing either. What do you say we get out of here? We could grab a coffee or just take a walk?”

I know I should seem bothered by his proposal, seeing as how I don’t know him. But something about him just seems warm. Welcoming, even. “You know what, sure. Let’s get out of here. I’ve already spoiled my dress, anyway. And I’m sure she’ll understand. Let me find her and explain, and I’ll meet you at the gates that lead into the garden.”

With a smile he says, “Alright then. I’ll see you shortly.” And turns to head out of the garden. 

I turn away and head towards the building to the north side of the garden that I’m sure my cousin is getting ready in.

After explaining to her that this isn’t exactly my scene, she only nodded, curlers bobbing in her hair, and agreed. She said she understood and was pleased I’d been here, even for a short while. Then she thanked and hugged me, and I was on my way.

Once at the gate, I look for the man and find him rather quickly. He’s standing out of the way, admiring all the glamor that the venue has to offer. I make my way over to him and smile.

He looks me in the eye and speaks. “You know, I didn’t get your name.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I’m 26 and still have no manners.” I rub my temples. “My name is Tara.” I hold my hand out for him to shake it.

He takes his hand in mine and his hands feel strong and calloused. “And I’m Gryphon. Age 29.” He laughs.

“Wow, your name is much nicer than mine.” I kid with a laugh.

He tilts his head slightly. “Yeah, I guess ‘John’ just wasn’t good enough for my parents.” He teases. 

I roll my eyes playfully. “So, where to?” 

He pockets his hands and nods away from the garden. “Come on.”

I shrug and follow him; the breeze catching his chestnut hair and blowing it off of his tanned skin. His cologne catches on the wind as well and wafts in my direction. It smells earthy and powerful. He looks back at me and nods for me to catch up. I take the time to study his eyes for only a moment. They’re hazel. A charming golden brown around his pupils, but lighter at the edge of his iris. His lilac button-up shirt and light gray dress pants compliment his hair and eyes nicely. 

Like something straight out of a romance novel. 

I lengthen my stride until I meet his side. He smiles. “So, Tara. What is a beautiful girl like you doing down here in Georgia? You don’t have an accent, I noticed.”

”Oh, I’m not from down here. I just came for the wedding. You know, ‘support’. I live further up north.” I grin, amused at our little inside joke. “You don’t have an accent either. What are you doing down here?”

”Same as you.” He says, but doesn’t let on any further, so I don’t press on.

He suddenly looks at me, something new in his eyes. “Want to go for a ride?”

”A ride?” I question, hesitantly.

”Yeah. Ever been on a motorcycle?” He smirks, knowing the answer already. 

“No, but I don’t know. I’ve never really had any inter-“

He cuts me off. ”Oh, it’ll be fun. You can trust me. You’ll be safe.”

”Oh, okay. But not far. I can’t miss my plane home.”

He smiles proudly and nods in agreement before picking up the pace. 

We reach Gryphon’s home, which turns out to be only a few blocks away. He pulls out a set of keys and pushes a button on a remote that opens the tepid garage door on the side of his clean, white house. The house looks simple, yet modern and elegant. It has a white wooden panel fence lining the small property. The front of the house is gorgeous, with an abundance of vegetation surrounding the small porch and windows. 

When the garage door finally creaks open, he steps inside. Hidden under a black dusty cover is a car, with the bold contour of what looks like an old Mustang, but I can’t tell much more than that. Beside it sits a very large bike. Besides a polished new exhaust and a clean matte black wrap on it, the enormous machine doesn’t have a name or badge on it anywhere. Only a small license plate.

He puts the key in, turns it, and it roars to life. It echoes around the garage and I’m sure it’s loud enough that the neighbors several blocks down probably heard it, too. Then he looks at me with a wicked smile before walking to a small closet in the garage. I take a look around the garage and it’s bare except for the closet, the car, and his enormous bike. 

He opens the door to the closet in the corner of the garage, pulls out a large, worn, sleek leather jacket, and two helmets. Then closes the door and walks to me. 

“You’ll need this.” Gryphon says, handing me the spare helmet. Then he walks back to the bike to pull his jacket on. 

I follow him into the garage, watching him. He pulls on the jacket effortlessly, as if he’s done it a thousand times. Turning to face me, he steps closer. “Here, let me.” He then takes the helmet carefully out of my hands. And with a sweep of his hand, he brushes my shoulder-length blonde hair back out of my face, and slowly slides the helmet on. While fastening it, he stares right into my glacier blue eyes, and I can feel the heat creeping into my cheeks and neck.

He breaks eye contact by walking back to his bike, sliding his own helmet on, and fastening it. Then Gryphon throws his leg over the bike and pats the backpack seat, requesting me to join him. I make my way to the bike and stare down at the seat before raising the hem of my knee length dress slightly and climbing on. The vibration of the bike makes the hair on my arms stand to attention. Gryphon reaches back his hands to grab mine and places them around his waist, before throwing the bike in gear and backing out of the garage. He closes the garage door and then we’re off.

After hours of riding around the city, Gryphon creeps the bike up the short driveway and parks it in front of the garage. We’re both laughing and sore from riding for so long. I’m exhilarated by the sheer bliss of the ride; from the wind in my hair and the hum of the bike. I’ve never experienced anything like it. It was bewildering. And even after hours of riding, I want to do it again.

He lets me get off first. Then he lifts his leg over the bike and faces me to help me out of the helmet, after sliding his own off first. The look on his face tells me he enjoyed the ride as much as I did. He slips the helmet over my head gently and places it on the back of his bike. “Would you like a drink? Are you hungry? I know we rode for quite a while.” 

Still on a high from my ride, all I can do is nod. Gryphon nods back in understanding and we both step around to the front of the house. He unlocks the door and I step inside, rubbing my sun-kissed arms. They’re tinted red and I know my next shower is going to make them burn badly. 

Strolling into the open house, I glance around. It’s like I’ve stepped into a hotel. Everything is so organized and precise, with a spacious atmosphere. The tables and floors are clean, and while some walls are painted a light gray, a few others are charcoal in contrast. Making the house seem more modern than the outside will allow.

I take a seat on the soft couch at the back of the living room, taking in all the decor. He comes back out with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “Oh, I can’t. I have a fight to catch.” I say with a wave of my hands.

”Ah, not even a sip? Come on, Tara, this whiskey is aged nicely and I have no one to share it with. You don’t even have to drink a full glass. Just a taste, that’s all.” He frowns, places the cups on the table, then takes a respective seat on a loveseat adjacent to the couch I’m sitting on.

I sigh in protest and hold one finger up. “One sip. That’s all. Nothing more.”

His face lights up as pulls the cork from the half-full bottle. He pours only a shot into one glass and a half glass for himself, then he slides my glass across the black wood stained table staged in front of the couch. 

I raise the glass and swirl, taking a whiff. It’s got a musky smell to it, so I know it’s going to be strong, but I knock it back, anyway. Noting the flavor as it goes down. “Wow, that’s a little harsh. But the flavor is nice.”

”I’m glad you like it.” He says with his glass in hand. He places his glass on the table and then stands and makes his way down a hallway. I place my glass on the table beside his and lean back to relax. 

After a few minutes, he hasn’t returned, so I assume he’s in the bathroom. I tilt my head back on the couch, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. I shake my head to rid myself of the fuzzy feeling when he steps back into the doorway of the hall. Propped up against the frame, he’s studying me.

My head begins to spin and black blotches start clouding my vision in waves. I place the palms of my hands flat on the couch in an attempt to ground myself, but to no avail. My eyes go wide with panic, and I lean forward to stand. Something isn’t right.

“I wouldn’t do that. You don’t know what could’ve been in that bottle. You could fall or hurt yourself.”

”Bottle?” I stammer, in prior recollection of the missing alcohol in the bottle he had brought to the living room. And of the glass he’d poured for himself. I hadn’t seen him drink any. I look at the glass next to mine and rub my eyes, trying to clear my gaze enough to check the level of his cup. 

“Smart girl, but not smart enough. No, I didn’t drink any.” Gryphon says as he slinks into the room a few paces. “But you should know better than to walk into a stranger’s home and take a drink of something previously opened. Especially alcohol. Alcohol can mask any number of drugs.”

I blink my eyes rapidly to clear them, but to no avail. I clamp them shut for a moment. When I open them, he’s crouched in front of me. I jump in surprise and press my back further into the couch to allow as much distance between us as possible.

He grins, but this time it’s not charming, it’s just creepy. 

“I don’t like this, I want to leave.” I say and do my best to stand, but he places a soft hand on my shoulder and stops me with barely any force. I fall back onto the couch.

With a click of the tongue he says, ”Oh, beautiful, it’s too late for that. You couldn’t even stand right now, let alone walk.” He stands and perches on the edge of the table in front of me. “You know, when I saw you, I knew you were perfect. Blondes, you know, they just have a fun air about them. But you, Tara, you’ve been the most naive so far.” 

“Gryphon,” I start.

He gestures to himself. “My name’s not Gryphon. And I’m not 29. I don’t even know anyone at that wedding. I just walked right in, and no one questioned it.” My heart drops while he takes a breath. “You know, you could’ve pushed for answers or asked anything, but you didn’t.” Then he laughs, but not in his usual way. This laugh is laced with something more sinister.

He places his hands in his lap and stands while taking a stretch. Then steps toward the kitchen. I wait to hear him reach the kitchen and try to stand, but I immediately collapse onto the ground with a thud. Under my breath, I say a solemn prayer in hopes he didn’t hear. I freeze to listen and hear nothing, so I begin crawling to where the door should be. My vision is blurry and dark and I can’t make anything out, when out of the blue I ram my head into the door.

With my head still spinning, I make haste by reaching up, grabbing the doorknob, and cracking the door open. Just as I’m about to open the door further to cry for help, a hand wraps around my ankle and I’m dragged backwards. I see an arm reach out above me and slam the door shut. Another calloused hand reaches under my side and flips me on my back. The abrupt movement makes my head hurt, so I close my eyes. Then his body drops down on top of me, straddling me.  

My arms are pinned at my sides and I do my best to writhe free, but he squeezes his knees tighter together in response. I open my eyes to see a massive kitchen knife in his hand. 

Raising my head up to get a bigger breath of air, I open my mouth to scream, right as he clamps a large hand over my mouth. 

“Oh, no. None of that.” He snarls and lifts his hand slightly to slam my head back down. The motion jars my head on the ground so hard that I feel my head start to get lighter and lighter. I can’t breathe and my head hurts, so I just lay back, feeling defeated. “Why are you doing this?” I gasp out.

”Oh, that part doesn’t matter. But you should feel better soon, beautiful. Don’t worry.” He purrs.

I take a stuttering breath, “I haven’t done anything to deserve this!” I shout at him, making my head buzz.

He only chuckles. “That’s what the last girl said.”

Just then, my body suddenly gets super heavy, and my eyes roll back to total darkness as I slip into complete unconsciousness.