The Hearts We Burn

by Briana Cole

  Thirty seconds, I concluded. Thirty seconds is all it would take me to get across the room and to the door. How much time had I already wasted just sitting here thinking about it? Ten seconds, fifteen? Tick, tick, tick, Kimmy.

  Slowly, I rose to my feet, my eyes darting to all the doors in sight. The kitchen, Leo’s office, Naomi’s room, Kareem’s room. Damn, Kareem. For a moment, I just stared at his closed door as if I could see right through to his bedroom. What was he doing? What had he found? He had risked so much so that we both could get out together, and, here I was, plotting to just up and leave without him. What would happen to him? Moreover, I couldn’t forget, he had footage with him. Valuable footage that would be the solution to both of our unanswered prayers. Was I willing to take an impulsive chance and make a run for it when we had a better plan in place?

  I refused to look, but I remembered the vase’s security camera pointing right at me. One of many, I knew because Kareem had subtly pointed them out to me once. I was open, in the clear, but for how long? Someone was watching. I could almost feel it in my spirit. Eyes trained on me, watching my every move. A test maybe. Yes, this was probably a test. But in my heart of hearts, I knew I wouldn’t be able to swallow not seizing this opportunity.

  I gently picked up Leo Jr. and nuzzled his neck, letting the fresh smell of soap and baby lotion relax my tension. Then, I stooped to pick up Jamal in my left arm and casually carried them both in the kitchen. “You want some juice?” I asked, putting on my best smile and Leo Jr. clapped his hands appreciatively. Yeah, I wouldn’t be able to live with the fact that I didn’t try to make that dash for the door. But hopefully, I wouldn’t have too much longer to dwell on it. As soon as Kareem was able to talk, I had to know we were set to go. For my own sake.

  The pool had become our little unofficial meeting place. When we weren’t letting off our much-needed sexual tension that is. So, I sat poolside, a thin cotton sundress letting the sun tan my skin, and waited for Kareem.

  I hadn’t seen Naomi since this morning when she left so quickly after I dropped the bomb about this mysterious move to Africa. Now that a few hours had passed, Leo had commented she was getting ready for tonight’s Christmas Eve get-together with Obi.

  The French door slid open, footsteps, and then closed on a quiet click. Kareem’s shadow draped over me, suddenly shielding the sun and cloaking me in a slight dimness. For a moment, he just stood there as if trying to find the words to speak. Restless, I looked up to him and watched him stare out at the water.

  “It’s not there,” he said finally.

  “What?” The word was reflexive even though, unfortunately, I had heard loud and clear what he just said. But that didn’t help with my clarification.

  “I checked last night,” Kareem went on, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “It wasn’t there. I figured I had just messed up the settings, got something mixed up but it was still salvageable.”

  “But . . .” My mouth hung open. Not true. This couldn’t be true. Not when we were this close. “You went to the store today. The security place, right?”

  “I went to some IT guys I know,” Kareem clarified. “I couldn’t risk going to the company who services these cameras and have Leo or Obi find out. I hoped and prayed they could find the footage we had seen. But it was nowhere.”

  “I don’t understand. How is that possible?”

  “Someone must have erased the source file,” Kareem said. “From the actual camera. My thing was just a feeder that duplicated what was being seen on the cameras. It hacked into the footage, but it can only broadcast what’s there. So, if there is nothing there . . .”

  He trailed off and I mentally filled in the blank. He was right. If there was nothing there, there was nothing to see. Shit, now what?

  I tried my best to keep the disappointed panic out of my voice. There just had to be another way. “And they said there was no way to get the footage back?” I said, almost pleading.

  “He said he may be able to retrieve the data from the original camera,” Kareem said.

  “The original camera?”

  “In Tyree’s room,” he clarified. “If we had that camera, I could take it to him and let him look at it.”

  The idea seemed hopeless and it took everything in me not to bust out in tears. It felt like everything was slipping right through my fingers. Again, I remembered my opportunity earlier to make a run for it. Damn if I wasn’t regretting it now more than ever.

  “We don’t have that kind of time,” I murmured, shutting my eyes and taking a deep breath.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m moving, remember?”

  “Yeah, but none of that shit is finalized,” Kareem assured me, and I could only shake my head. Now, the first few tears did sting my eyelids and trail down my cheeks. I should’ve run when I had the chance.

  “Leo told me we’re leaving tomorrow night,” I said, lifting wet eyes to finally look at Kareem’s bewildered face.

  He was in denial, shaking his head against my words. “No, that can’t be right.”

  I shrugged, helplessly. “That’s what he said unless he’s lying.”

  “When did he tell you this?”

  “This morning while you were out.”

  Kareem began to pace behind me but as far as I was concerned, it was no use.

  “Well fuck it, we won’t worry about my IT friend,” he said, his voice carrying the urgency of his brisk movements. “I just got to get my hands on that camera.”

  “And do what?”

  “We need evidence,” Kareem said. “Without that camera, we have nothing. Then what?” He was right, then what? I had been asking myself that since I’d gotten here. There was nothing, no end goal, no final count. As far as I could see, this nightmare just kept going, sequel after sequel, with no foreseeable future. And the only thing that was foreseeable was the realization that Leo was about to pack my ass up and ship me off to Ivory Coast. I was as good as dead anyway because banking on someone to find me was becoming more and more farfetched. Let alone if I was living 10,000 miles away under a phony name with no contact to the outside world.

  “How are we going to get it?” I asked.

  “Have you seen Tyree at all today?”

  I shook my head. “I hardly ever see him,” I admitted. “Leo told him to stay in his room upstairs basically.”

  When we first moved in, I had overheard the conversation and Tyree definitely had something to say about the arrangement. There were some stairs that led to a finished walk-in attic, the staircase nearly so discreet you would almost miss it. Tyree had been instructed to remain in there at all times, unless otherwise specified. Him, well he had showed his entire flamboyant ass with that request. Me, I felt like gloating. He was in no better position than I was, a prisoner. Confined to this luxurious 12,000 square foot cell. If I hadn’t been so sure about what was going on, I could almost swear there was no such thing as a Tyree.

  “So, he should be up there then?” Kareem said.

  I nodded. “I would guess, yeah.”

  Kareem moved to the door and the gesture brought me to my feet. “I’m coming with you,” I said before even realizing I had even wanted to.

  Kareem shook his head. “Nah. We can’t afford to have things go wrong.”

  “I know. That’s why I want to go.” I thought for a moment, then added, “And besides. Aren’t you going to need some kind of lookout? What if Leo comes up to see him?”

  “True. But what are you going to do?”

  I shrugged. “Not sure. But I won’t let you get caught.” That seemed to comfort him and after another moment, Kareem nodded and gestured for me to follow him.

  I had never ventured up here. It had always seemed like some forbidden Nazareth-type territory I shouldn’t dare explore. But having Kareem by my side certainly helped calm my scattered nerves.

  We climbed the last few stairs towards the third floor and stopped in front of the closed door. Tyree’s
door. He had always been so close, just quietly hovering in the shadows. Shit made my flesh crawl. Kareem lifted his fist to knock but paused with his knuckles a breath away from the wood.

  “What is it?” I whispered, watching him put his ear to the door. He held up one finger to his lips signaling for me to be quiet. Panic started to set in and I took a step back towards the stairs. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. What if Leo were in there? What would he say?

  “I don’t think he’s in there,” Kareem murmured almost to himself. “It’s too quiet.”

  I let out a gentle sigh of relief. “That’s a good thing, right? We can get the camera and get out of there before he comes back.”

  “Yeah,” Kareem seemed to agree, but for some reason, his apprehension was louder than his words. He glanced both ways down the empty hall and turned the knob to push the door open. “Stay here and stand guard,” he instructed.

  “No, please don’t leave me out here,” I whispered. “What if he comes back?” The thought alone had me shook. How the hell could I explain my presence up here? Oh sorry, Leo I was just looking out while Kareem rummaged through Tyree’s things. Yeah, that was sure to end well.

  Kareem paused, considering my fears before stepping to the side and letting me enter first. Grateful, I stepped over the threshold into the dark room, my hand feeling against the wall for a light switch.

  “Kareem, I can’t see anything,” I said flicking on the light. Instantly, the area lit up in a haze of yellow. I turned to the room and screamed.

  I couldn’t stop screaming. Even when Kareem stepped in behind me on a muffled curse and folded me in to his arms, shifting his body to block my sordid view. But even now that he stood in front of me, I still saw Tyree dangling from the ceiling fan, an overturned chair below his suspended bare feet, his body swaying like a gentle pendulum from the extension cord connecting his neck to the railing. Trickles of blood colored the neckline of the blue t-shirt he wore and I was thankful his back was to me. I wouldn’t have been able to bear it if I actually saw the death in the man’s expression.

  Kareem ushered me back into the hall and I took a deep pull on the brisk air and bent over to the banister. I coughed, squinting my eyes shut against the fresh image, and dissolved into sobs.

  I felt his lips touch my temple, and I lifted my face, my vision blurry with tears. I watched him study my face as if I had an answer, and, defeated, he rested his forehead against mine wearily. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he was apologizing for but hell, those may have been the words I needed to hear. I let out a shaky breath and listened to the distant haze of voices and footsteps.

  Chapter 19

  Kimera

  It was as if life just went on. Like there wasn’t even a suicide that had taken place only hours before.

  I was still in shock and spent the better half of the afternoon throwing up my sorrows and regrets. Tyree’s lifeless body hanging there was all I kept seeing, and it played over and over again in my subconscious like some sick, perverted movie. None of it seemed real.

  Even after Kareem had pulled me screaming back into the hallway and tried to shield my view, it just seemed like a bad dream.

  I sank to the floor next to the toilet, weak from exhaustion and sickness. Bad dream my ass. As if my guts in the toilet didn’t validate what I’d seen, my sore throat damn sure did. I was trembling, and I felt bile simmering in the pit of my stomach and threatening to rise up and onto these newly waxed floors. The anxiety was causing a massive headache, and I had to rest my head on the wall just to keep the room from spinning.

  Suicide? How? Why? None of it made sense. Not after everything Tyree had put me through. To commit suicide seemed too much like a welcome relief. Hell, too much like perfect timing. And it just didn’t sit right with me for some reason. Tyree committing suicide on Christmas Eve, right when we were about to expose him and blow the lid off all this shit. The night before we were set to move to Africa. How much of a coincidence was that?

  My mind was urging me to take his death for the blessing it was. My gut, which was making more sense of this at the moment, was telling me something else was there. What, I didn’t know. And that’s what was sending me into the beginnings of a panic attack.

  Even more perplexing was the way this little Christmas Eve get-together was still taking place downstairs. Nothing elaborate but food was being prepared, cheerful music was being played, and the general ‘holiday cheer’ was in the air as if life just went on and a suicide was a simple hiccup. Like burning the macaroni and cheese. Oh no worries. Throw it out, we’ll make a new batch or eat something else. Who needs a drink? And me, being around so much death in such a short period of time, shit was never that simple or quick to get over.

  I gathered the beaded hunter green gown I wore and bracing against the wall, rose to shaky legs. Thankfully, I hadn’t even bothered with my shoes when I’d come running into the bathroom to throw up for the fourth time. Even barefoot, I felt like I was unstable and wouldn’t have been able to keep them on anyway.

  My makeup, well what little I had bothered with, was smeared so I made my way to the sink to wash it off completely. Nude face it was tonight. I ran quivering fingers through my hair and let out a shuddering breath.

  I had been so distracted with the suicide that I hadn’t even considered the fact that Kareem and I were still in a shitty mess. In the midst of the confusion, he said he had tried to look for the camera to no avail. It was nowhere to be found. Which meant someone had moved it. Had Tyree found it and erased the feed first? None of it was making sense and at that point, I wasn’t trying to sift through the problem. I needed a solution. Because Obi was downstairs and we had nothing. No proof. No nothing. And now, by some crazy happenstance, the primary culprit in all of this was gone as if he never existed. I was out of ideas. And by the knock on my door, out of time too. That thought alone had a fresh wave of nausea simmering in my stomach.

  Leo stood on the other side of my door and a grave smile spread when he saw me. The way he looked so pale (which was not easy for a man with his rich, dark complexion) and his eyes nearly sunken and rounded taking up a lot of his face, he looked like he was here in body only. His mind was clearly elsewhere. If I didn’t know any better, I could almost feel his ache surrounding him like a thick cloud.

  “My love,” he murmured and more of an unconscious habit, he kissed my palm. “Ready?”

  I touched his arm, halting his movements. “Leo,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “We need to talk about . . . about what happened with Tyree.”

  Leo hesitated for the briefest of moments before his eyebrows drew together in feigned confusion. “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” he said, his tone dismissive. “Let’s go. My dad is anxious to see you.” And that was the end of it.

  So, I guess that’s how we were going to play this. As if this man, this gay man that had killed my father, kidnapped me and my friend, and held us hostage in a storage closet, who had been living in our attic for months, had never even existed. Was that the best he could do?

  I let Leo lead me down the stairs and into the huge dining room with its teardrop chandeliers and expansive glass table that easily seated twenty guests. Someone had decorated in here as well so white garland was draped from the walls and windows in a last-minute attempt to be festive.

  Fernando had done the most, as usual, with a turkey and southern-style soul food sides laid out in the center of the table, surrounded by candles, wine, and elegant, Christmas-themed chinaware. An instrumental song played somewhere over the intercom and Obi, his wives, Naomi, and Kareem were all already seated and waiting, dressed in their various formal wear of reds, greens, and blacks.

  Leo pulled out a chair next to Kareem, and I sank down into it, grateful for the reprieve. No one even bothered to notice I didn’t have on shoes, thank God. Leo sat to my right, between me and Naomi and directly across from his father.

  “Great now tha
t my son and his lovely wife have arrived,” Obi began with a huge grin. “We can enjoy this feast.”

  On cue, one-by-one, Fernando and his wait staff entered from the kitchen, carrying plates of salads and appetizers. They placed everything in front of us and my stomach balled tighter in knots. How could anyone eat after what happened earlier? I glanced around, and, sure enough, I looked to be the only one stalled. Even Naomi, who this morning had seemed on edge, had appeared to have calmed down and was even smiling and giggling with one of Obi’s wives. Of course, she wouldn’t have been affected. She hadn’t witnessed what I had. I wasn’t even sure she had known what had taken place. Come to think of it, had she even known about Tyree at all?

  I turned to Kareem and gestured for him to pass the salt and pepper. It was more of an excuse to see how he was holding up because I hadn’t even sampled the salad on my plate to see if it needed dressing. Without looking at me, Kareem sat the shakers in front of me and resumed eating quietly, his head bent to avoid eye contact. I was pretty sure he was thinking exactly what I had been mulling over since this afternoon. What were we going to do?

  “So, since we’re all here I might as well share the news,” Obi started, clasping his hands together. He looked to Leo as if to prepare him before he spoke again. “Business has been good. Better than I could have expected actually. So, it’s time for all of us to go home.”

  Leo’s wives were the only ones who seemed to squeal in delight. The rest of us were silent. So, it had been true. Part of me was hoping Leo had just been talking. Obviously wishful thinking.

  “Oh Obi, that’s so exciting,” Natasha threw her arms around him. “I’ve missed home. It’s just not the same here.”

  “When do we leave?” Yana asked.

  “Tonight.”

  I felt like I had swallowed a rock. Did he say tonight? No that couldn’t have been right. Leo had said tomorrow. Which was really no better but hell at least I had another twenty-four hours to come up with something. Anything, to keep from going.

  “Right after dinner,” Obi continued at the silence. “I already have the plane ready, and they’re throwing us a huge holiday celebration at home.”