by Kiersten Fay
“Of course,” Betsy said, still grinning from ear to ear. “Me too.” She turned and practically glided back to her cubicle. Likely, she was too euphoric to have noticed Kasima’s distress.
The papers she had stapled were for two unrelated accounts. As she pried the sheets apart, Brian gave her one last studying look before reentering his office.
After straightening a stack of files that had already been straightened, Kasima quietly resumed her tasks, all the while working to patch the drip, drip, drip of her freshly lacerated heart.
At the end of the day, when many of her coworkers had clocked out for the day, Brian approached her desk. “How are you doing?”
He’d been pleasant enough to work with over the last few days, seeming to have moved on. They’d been friends first. Perhaps their relationship could return to that state?
Already she’d spied him flirting with a couple of new hires. The same way he’d flirted with her, with that infectious smile and easy swagger. Maybe one of them would be the girl to tame his heart. Wouldn’t that be ironic, if Brian found the love of his life before Kasima?
“I’m fine,” she lied. “How are you? Working on any juicy stories for the paper?”
“I’ve got something in the works. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve been working on this story and I’m trying to find the right hook. Maybe you could help me? You were always so good at that stuff.”
“Sure. What’s the story about?”
He glanced down at his watch. “Well, if you’re ready to go, we can talk about it on the way.”
“Go? Go where?”
“Oh, uh…” he blinked, looking a little taken aback. “I thought Mr. Dixon would have talked to you about this by now.”
“He’s been out of the office. Talk to me about what?”
Brian grinned brightly. “I convinced him to let you be my photographer on this one.”
Kasima sat speechless for a moment. “Seriously?”
He nodded.
Excitement fumbled in her chest. Why now? She’d offered to be his photographer before, but his responses had always centered around being a one-man show.
When she asked him this, he replied, “I’ve always admired your talents, and I know you want this more than anything. Kas, I just want you to be happy.”
He appeared so sincere and earnest. It reminded her why she’d been attracted to him in the first place. That Brian would do this for her, even after everything that had happened? She didn’t know what to say.
He checked his watch.” But we’ve got to get going. Don’t want to lose the light.”
“I don’t have my camera. It’s at my house.”
“We’ll pick it up on the way.”
21
When Brian parked his Bentley in her driveway, Kasima told him, “I’ll just be a minute.”
Instead of waiting, he got out of the car. “What do you say to a quick cup of coffee before we head out? I’ve been dragging all day.”
She considered him for a moment, wondering if this was a ploy. She kept expecting him to bring up Lex or their relationship, but he hadn’t yet, and he did look tired. Honestly, she wouldn’t mind a caffeine injection herself.
“You’ve yet to tell me where we’re going.” In the living room, she stutter stepped, having completely forgotten about her little obsession.
Pictures of Lex littered her dining room table—him slumbering so beautifully in her bed just before she’d woken him from the noise of her camera; the two of them together in bed when he’d wrestled away her camera to take a photo of his own, him on the bluff at sunset smiling at her like she was the greatest thing since apple pie, and a thousand others over the course of their affair. She’d been developing them every night, trying to create the one perfect print that she could treasure always.
Like a junkie caught with his stash, she rushed to scoop them up before Brian saw. She wasn’t quick enough. He snatched one that had fallen from her grip, frowning. “Well, I can’t say I’m not jealous. You used to photograph me like that.”
She wanted to tell him he was wrong—that she’d never been so captivated by another individual, so consumed and enamored and haunted—but that would only hurt him. Instead, she muttered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to see these.”
She retrieved the photo from Brian and inserted the stack into the hutch drawer where Spike was shelved, watching her with judgy black eyes. Kasima couldn’t decide whether it would be healthier to get rid of the thing. Truth was, her gaze drifted toward it more often than she’d like to admit, especially when she was missing Lex. Which was always.
On impulse, she grabbed the bear. Into the drawer you go, Spike. Tell your bear therapists about this.
Stuffed full of her scars, she shoved the drawer closed and faced Brian with a benign expression. “You start the coffee, I’ll gather my things for the shoot.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Upstairs, she changed out of her confining office clothes, mulling over what Brian had revealed about his story. He thought he had a lead on the recent influx of a dangerous new drug being trafficked around town. Many people have already overdosed.
At first she’d worried that this assignment might be dangerous, and had voiced those concerns, but Brian assured her he only wanted a few shots of him interviewing a couple vagrants who had recently come in contact with the drug. They’d already agreed to have their picture in the paper for a “nice fee.”
She stepped into her most comfortable jeans, and donned a simple black tank top, then traded her heels for a pair of worn in running shoes. After tying up her hair, she grabbed her camera case and headed back down the stairs to the kitchen. “How’s that coffee coming?”
When she entered, he faced her. “Oh, uh, I couldn’t find the coffee grinds. Are you out?”
“What are you talking about?” She opened the cupboard where she kept her coffee. “The can is right here.”
“Oh. Look at that. I don’t know why I didn’t look there.”
“Me either since that’s where they’ve always been.” She tossed the can to him and he caught it.
Then he scraped his hand down the back of his neck. It reminded her of something Lex would do when he was feeling embarrassed. “I guess I got a little nostalgic being in your home again. A little sad too. I miss you, you know?”
She sighed. “Brian, this isn’t a ploy to get me back, is it? Because—”
He put up his hands. “I know I messed up. I get it. You have your vampire now.” He paused. “Right? That’s still a thing?”
At length, she replied, “Right.” He didn’t need to know Lex was likely finished with her.
Brian gave a small smile. “I want you to know I’m here for you. If you ever want to, you know, try again, or anything.”
“That’s sweet, Brian, but we aren’t right for each other. You and I are looking for different things. And I hope one day we’re both able to find it.”
He sighed. “I’m trying. I went on a date the other day.” He paused and eyed her closely. Searching for a hint of jealousy?
She smiled brightly. “Oh yeah? Did it go well?”
He pursed his lips together. “She wasn’t you.”
A bit of her heart broke for him, but she didn’t know what to say. “It’s getting late. We should get going. If you still want coffee, maybe we can pick some up on the way.”
* * *
The vagrants were supposed to meet Brian at the edge of town, outside the abandoned sugar mill, but after two hours of waiting, Kasima was getting antsy.
While the sun was still up, she’d snapped a few shots of the mill from a distance. The warm light had glinted off the broken bits of glass that had managed to cling to the windowsills, most of which had been haphazardly boarded up from the inside. Now that the moon was out, blue light shimmered off those jagged shards.
She was getting tired, ready to cal
l it a night.
Brian checked his watch. “Where the hell are they?”
A sharp wind rustled the bushes nearby. Shadows danced in the night. They both glanced over, waiting.
When no one appeared, she said, “Maybe we should try another time.”
Brian glanced back at the mill. Husks of dead trees lingered around the perimeter like old soldiers that had once proudly guarded this land but had long since surrendered to the erosion of time, their roots rotting in the rust-laden earth.
Long ago, one face of the mill had been painted a bright red. Now aged, it was chipped and flaked, more burgundy than red and battered by the elements.
Brian popped his trunk and then retrieved a flashlight, aiming it toward the mill. “Come on. We might as well get something out of tonight.”
She hesitated. “You mean to go in there? Now?”
“Yes. My sources said this used to be a junkie hang-out, but they’ve all moved on. Better pastures I guess. They might have left some evidence inside.”
“I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be better to come back in the daytime?”
He gave her a teasing look. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid.”
She tapped her chin. “Hmm. Junkies, dealers, tramps, oh, and an abandoned building in the middle of the night. What’s not to be afraid of, I wonder?”
“You’ve nothing to worry about, Kas, I’ve got you covered.” He opened his coat to reveal a gun holster strapped to his belt.
She blinked. “When did you get a gun?”
“I’ve had it for a while. Kept it at home, mostly, but I thought it was prudent to start carrying it during my hairier investigations.”
Prudent, perhaps, but a gun didn’t make her feel any better about going into that mill.
“Come on. We’ll be really quick. I promise. And wouldn’t it be great to get a few night shots from inside? Maybe the moon shining on some dirty syringes or something?” He smiled as if that would be the greatest thing in the world.
The syringe part didn’t exactly light her creative fire, but the moon was bright and would be streaming through those large exposed windows into the raw, steely interior. Brian was right, it was a great photo op, if nothing else, for her personal collection.
Besides, she didn’t think anyone else was around. Two hours and they hadn’t heard a peep but for crickets, cicadas, and the occasional owl.
Still, it was a big empty abandoned building. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, how about you stay out here with the car and I’ll go in and take some photos.” He extended his hand for her camera, her most prized possession. “The paper won’t be able to give you credit for the pictures, though.”
She snatched her camera back, seeing so clearly the carrot he dangled. But, damn did she want that carrot. This wasn’t just a great photo op, it was a potential professional leap as well. She grumbled and stomped toward the building. “Let’s make this quick.”
Expression a bit victorious, Brian kept pace with her as they made their way.
Everywhere she looked, nature was reclaiming this desolate patch of land. Dried grass, leaves, and gravel crunched underfoot. Creeping vines infested much of the ground, encroaching up the sides of the mill’s stained brick walls. Weeds peeked through the cracks in the concrete steps.
Inside, darkness reigned. Scant streams of moonlight squeezed through the boarded windows.
There was an eerie stillness here that sent shivers down her spine, like she had ventured into an alternative world where everything smelled of decay, mold, and refuse. In some far-off location, a slow dripping echoed as if some leaky pipe still held water.
Brian scanned the room with the flashlight. Metal scaffolding took up one wall, decorated by buckets, wood planks, and old dusty brushes. At one point, there’d been a halfhearted attempt to renovate before the mill had been abandoned completely.
“Watch where you step,” Brian said, swinging his light her way.
A sinkhole had eaten away a large chunk of the room, chunks of cement attached to rebar clung to the edge as if for dear life.
Rusted nails and trash littered the ground around it.
She kept a wide berth.
A little farther in, elaborate graffiti garnished one partially crumbled wall, the artwork vibrant against gray bricks. Just to the right of it, soot painted its way up the brick from a nearby fire pit that still contained a pile of charred debris. It looked to be only days old.
“I think people still come here,” she whispered.
Brian was several feet ahead. “Probably,” he muttered. “Look there.” He pointed to a rickety old stairway that appeared to lead to nowhere. It just stopped where a second floor used to exist. Marching toward it, Brian declared, “It’s perfect. Get a picture of me standing up there holding a syringe.”
“Did you already find drug paraphernalia?”
He fished something out of his pocket. With his teeth, he tore off a piece of plastic and then spat it on the ground. Then he held up a syringe. “Even if I had, there’s no way I’m touching a used one.”
Flashlight in hand, he carefully made his way up the stairs. Kasima held her breath, hoping to God they held under his weight. Her mind flashed to the worst case scenario: The stairs toppling, him cracking his head, the flashlight disappearing in the rubble, along with his body. With only her. Here. In the dark. Alone. For miles.
He’d be doomed.
“Brian, please be careful.”
He glanced back at her and grinned. “You worried for me, Kas? Guess that means some part of you still cares about me.”
She huffed. “I would never want anything bad to happen to you, even if we weren’t still friends.”
He waved her concern away and continued to the top. Then he held up the syringe like a new discovery. The shot was really quite perfect. Moonlight streamed through an eroded hole in the roof, providing adequate lighting. She raised her camera, adjusted the aperture and shutter speed, and snapped a couple pictures.
“Let me get one with the flash,” she said, switching it on. As she took another shot, for a split second, she caught an odd reflection from the corner of her eye.
Though her brain hadn’t had enough time to process the tiny twin pinpricks of light, her intuition flared. Her pulse raced, and adrenaline pumped through her. Her body was reacting as if to danger. Then her mind caught up. Those pinpricks had been her flash bouncing off a set of eyes.
“Brian?” she called, her voice quivering. He swung his head around, registering her tone. But he was too far away to do anything. And the only flashlight, which was still in his grip, wasn’t strong enough to reach her here on the ground.
Like a rodent caught in the hypnotic gaze of a snake, she stared into the utter blackness, trying to make out the threat, or lack thereof. Was her mind playing tricks? She hoped so, because Brian still hadn’t made a move to help her. Could he see better from his vantage?
There was one way to know what was out there.
Her pulse spiked.
Slowly, she tilted the camera up, finger hovering over the button.
Click.
The area lit up as if by lightning.
A bloodcurdling scream ripped from her lungs.
22
The light from her camera’s flash dissipated, leaving behind an ebony curtain that concealed a dark, dangerous threat—which her mind could still see all too clearly.
Staring straight back at her was a grizzly man with red eyes.
Yet, as she stood there, frozen, no attack came.
Had he moved? She couldn’t tell. Blood was rushing past her eardrums, muffling her hearing. The first thing that registered was the echoing drip, drip, drip of that distant pipe. Her every molecule was on high alert, yet she still couldn’t force her legs into action. They were a worthless mixture of Jell-O and sludge.
Was escape even prudent?
There was no reliable light source. On the way in, trash had littered their path. If she took off i
nto the dark, she’d risk tripping and landing on the many rusted nails, or the beds of broken glass, or that open pit that was ready to swallow her whole.
Could she fight off three-hundred pounds of psycho? That measly three-week defense course might buy her some time if she caught him in his weak spot, but she couldn’t even see where his jugular was, let alone his balls.
Brian was saying something from his high vantage. Her panicked mind didn’t comprehend. Her eyes were glued to that menacing darkness, trying to catch any sign of movement. Could the man see her? Was his night vision more acute? If he were human, chances were he was as blind as she. If he wasn’t, the flash could have temporarily blinded him.
Her ears pricked at the sound of movement.
And still she couldn’t move, the sludge in her legs hardening into concrete.
Any second now…disaster.
Or maybe not. Brian was making his way down the rickety staircase. Without the proper amount of alarm in his tone, he asked what she had screamed for. He hadn’t yet seen the dark stranger. Was that man lying in wait?
“There’s someone here,” she squeaked out, still staring at that black abyss.
A man’s throat cleared then, and his gruff voice trickled out from the darkness. “Don’t be scared, miss. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She didn’t respond, her terrified mind combing over his words. A quick mental sonic calculation told her the man was still in the same spot he been when her flash had gone off, or quite near there.
“To be honest, you scared the bejeebers out of me.” He sounded sincere, this stranger from the dark, alone in a condemned, abandoned mill. She was nowhere near ready to let her guard down.
Brian stepped onto the landing then with that blessed flashlight in hand. She wanted to snatch it from him and keep it with her till she was safely back in her bed…which couldn’t happen soon enough.
“Mack, is that you?” Brian aimed the light at the man. With a dingy hand, he shielded his eyes. “You were supposed to meet us outside.”
