by Eve R. Hart
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Tank
There she went again. Asking, but not asking. Leaving it open for me to make up what I wanted to say to her. Only this time her voice was the slightest bit shaky.
I wondered if I captivated her as much as she did me. I couldn’t look away from her. I didn’t want to leave this space and stop breathing the same air as her.
Her scent was overpowering all around me, like a fucking angel wrapping me up in her wings. An odd mix of sweet and bitter. Almost like smooth leather and wild frozen blackberries. It was a strange combination, but that was what it smelled like to me. And on her, it fucking worked.
I may not have known her, like at all, but from what I had seen it was confusing as hell. She was cold and calculated. Her movements were never rushed or hurried. Her words were well thought out and almost nonexistent. She held herself at a distance.
Then there was the fact that she didn’t leave me in a passed out lump outside the door of the bar. No, she went through the effort of getting me upstairs, into her apartment, onto her bed, and then watched over me all night. As if that wasn’t enough, she fucking fed me.
Sure, it was horrible as fuck.
Who messed up macaroni and cheese? Out of a box, with liquid cheese?! She fucking did. I was thinking that at worst, the noodles would be overcooked and soggy. That I could deal with, would have made it easier to go down. However, that was not the case. The noodles were just plain underdone. Like they crunched loudly when you chewed them. She tried and that was what I kept having to tell myself as I struggled to finish it all.
See, with all that, I was just really having a bit of whiplash. I couldn’t get a read on her. That bothered me. But what bothered me more was that I cared. Not like deep, in my soul, care-for-her-wellbeing cared. I knew that wasn’t going to happen. Maybe it was more of an intense curiosity. I just wanted to know. Knowing was half the battle, right? If I knew and maybe even understood what she was like and what she was thinking, then the puzzle was solved and I could walk away. Carry on like normal and return to my miserable hiding.
But when she smiled, it did something weird in my gut. It wasn’t much, but it was there, and I could tell it was something she didn’t do often. The thing was, I wanted her to do it more. I wanted to see what her face looked like when she relaxed and let herself be free. I fucking craved to see that little sparkle in her eyes that I’d gotten tiny glimpses of a few times. And I found myself sitting there, confused as hell and comfortable at the same time.
All of that ran through my mind as she waited for me to speak. It was taking too long for me to answer and I didn’t have the first clue on what to say. She had already dug the worst out of me. Maybe not the whole thing, but the general idea and I had no need to delve deeper into all of that right then. I just wanted to forget for five minutes. I didn’t want to hurt. I didn’t want to remember. Most of all, I didn’t want her to know how much I had failed.
I had done a lot of good in life, but I didn’t think that negated the bad. I often wondered if Logan’s death was the universe calling me out, pointing its long finger at me and making an example out of my life.
“I hate tomatoes,” I said, my gaze drifting off down to the arm of the chair. “I was always trying to find new ways to get Logan—my son—to eat his veggies. To be fair, he was always good about eating them. But I never wanted him to get bored with the things that I made. Anyway, I made this one salad, it was simple really. Tomatoes and cucumbers in an Italian dressing. I always added fresh fennel and he thought that was the best damn thing. He was forever asking me to make it. And because I never wanted to let him know I hated it out of fear that he would stop eating it, I choked it down. Every damn time.”
I chuckled at the memory. I’d almost forgotten that I was talking out loud and that there was a quiet mystery woman sitting only a few feet away.
I cleared my throat, bringing myself back into reality. I looked up to see Dya intensely watching me, no clear expression on her face. I had a damn lump in my throat and I could feel a stinging in my eyes.
“Bathroom?” I asked to break the tension floating in the air. I also just needed a few minutes to myself. She jerked her chin to something behind me. I turned and saw a door just a few feet from the bed. “May I?”
She nodded, her eyes tracked my every move. And even though I was behind a closed door, I could still feel her eyes on me.
I let out a hard sigh as I leaned my hands on the edge of the sink. My head hung heavy against my chest. I needed a moment. Hell, I probably needed an hour. I closed my eyes and tried to pull myself together. It was the first time in a long time I’d felt the memory so vividly. I was there, remembering all those times. I was thrown back to a time when things were good and for a second I felt a little lighter. Remembering hadn’t been as tortuous as it had been since the tragedy had happened. Instead, it was just what I’d been trying to hold onto ever since I woke up after the explosion. But it still was like a knife in my side. They were just memories and that was all they would ever be. I still didn’t have my son and I never would again.
I peed, finding that I really did have to go. Then I grabbed the mouthwash from the side of the sink and swished out my mouth. Furry was a nice way of saying how my mouth felt. I wished more than anything I had a toothbrush, but I wasn’t that much of a dick that I would use hers, especially without her permission. Something told me that she wouldn’t let me even if I did ask. Then again, she almost scared me in a way that I would be too afraid to even try. I wasn’t afraid of many things, but there was just something about Dya that set me on edge. In good ways and bad. But it wasn’t anything that I could specifically point out.
“Well,” I said after I walked out of the bathroom and stood awkwardly in the middle of her so-called space for a second. “I’ll just…” I motioned to the door.
She sat in the same position as she had been in the whole morning. An image of her sitting just that way all night as I slept a few feet away filled my mind and something in my chest fluttered. It was almost like I took a small amount of comfort in the thought.
After getting no response from her I headed for the door. Something stopped me. I had this strange pull and I had no idea what that meant. Truthfully, I wasn’t in the right head space to really give a fuck about it though. I turned back to her as I gripped the handle of the door.
“Tell me something…” I said looking deep into her eyes.
She shifted ever so slightly. It was obvious then that she wasn’t used to having the spotlight on herself and for some weird reason, I found that interesting. She had such a strong and magnetic personality, but at the same time, she seemed like someone who wanted to be invisible. She was strong, her head held high, back straight, and a take-no-shit look on her face constantly. Yet, she was dark, just like the shadows.
“The thing about being lost is that it doesn’t have to mean it is the end. It just means you have a starting point for a new journey.” She spoke clearly and almost seemed to punctuate every word as she said them. It was like she was having a hard time speaking those words. Almost like she couldn’t believe that she was even talking to me.
I clamped my mouth shut, her words like a sweet whisper in my head, repeating themselves over and over again as I walked out the door.
That definitely wasn’t what I expected her to say. In truth, I had expected her to remain silent. But she spoke. The words were some kind of strange wisdom that I had a feeling fit her all too well. Maybe that was why I was drawn to her. She had a heaviness weighing on her shoulders much like me, only she kept hers hidden.
I let my steps fall heavy on the stairs as I descended. What the hell was I doing? My head was all over the place, and yet, I felt stuck. I felt like I had to force myself forward, the next step becoming harder to take than the last one. But I kept going. The air was cold around me, reminding me of how I felt on the inside.
In the cab of my truck, I took in a deep breath but it didn’t qu
ell the inner pull I had. I refused to let myself go down any sort of new path. I was the one keeping myself stuck.
That was the point that her words rang out in my head again. She may have been right. Hell, it sounded like a good enough line. For anyone else but me, though. No, I wanted to be lost. I wanted to be stuck. I deserved all the loneliness and loss I brought on myself. I didn’t deserve to find a new fucking path and I didn’t want to move forward.
“Fuck it,” I muttered to the empty space around me as I started my truck and drove off.
It was only when I got back to the cabin that I realized that I was out of booze. I had meant to get some when I went out last night but I never made it that far. I wondered what the hell was wrong with me and why I’d ended up passed out at that bar. Twice now.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Nadya
I itched for something to do. My skin crawled to get this job done and over with so I could move on, and I had become a crazy mess. My cool, calm demeanor was slipping.
I found myself pacing the small space that I was living in. I found myself doing it more than ever before. When my eyes weren’t on my phone, watching him, I was like a caged tiger. I was becoming obsessed. But I wasn’t sure what it was that I was obsessing over. Was it him? Was it the timing? Was I simply trying to find the right moment to set up and end it all?
That last one was the one I wanted to believe the most. It was the one that I forced myself to believe.
No doubt, I was going mad.
Before I realized what I was doing, I had my bag loaded up and tied to the back of my bike. Then I was riding the winding road that led up to the cabin. I parked a good ways down the mountain, dismounted, and tossed my bag over my shoulder. I made my way up, skirting around the tree trunks with ease. I was hidden under the blanket of night and the thick forest. It was almost three in the morning and I should have been in bed. I should have been asleep. But I wasn’t. I had found it harder and harder to find my calm and I couldn’t seem to close my eyes and let go.
I hit the edge of the tree line, but I stayed tucked away in the darkness, my body hugging a thick tree trunk. The world around me was too silent, even the wind was nonexistent. It was weird and I felt unsettled.
The cabin was lit up with the dim light of a table lamp but from the angle, I was at I couldn’t see into the cabin. With slow, precise movements, I climbed the tree. I didn’t make a sound as I found a sturdy branch and straddled it. My legs dangled as they hung off the sides. I was a good fifteen feet off the ground and the only thing that bothered me at the thought of falling was how much noise I would make when my body and gear hit the ground. Good thing I was sure I wouldn’t fall.
I hadn’t seen him in person in five days. I had no idea why it bothered me so much. I never should have been this close unless I was ready to pull the trigger. I mean, that was the whole point of the mission that night. Right? That was what I had sought out to do when I grabbed my bag. Why else would I have brought it?
Noah was passed out on the couch, his long hair covering his face and it bothered me. I wanted to see his face one last time before I ended it but I had no idea why. It was like deep inside of me I needed to. I needed to commit it to memory.
But that was stupid. The last thing I ever needed was to remember a target.
I shook out my fingers before I pulled my bag off my shoulder. In the darkness, with precision, I set up my long range weapon. The whole time, my eyes never left Noah’s unmoving form. Sitting on a tree branch wasn’t ideal, but I could do it.
My back was straight against the thick trunk. I lifted the scope to my eye and instantly he was in my view. He was closer. I could see his chest rise and fall with a slowness that told me he was deep asleep.
Deep breath in, release and pull. It was that simple. But as I sucked in a lungful of chilly air, I froze. My finger relaxed beside the trigger as I exhaled.
I blinked once.
Twice.
Three times.
And tried again.
Deep breath in.
I found myself inhaling to the point that my lungs burned and even then I didn’t want to stop. Once I was done, I was going to have to exhale and that meant that I was going to have to let go.
Come on. Show me your face.
But even as I held my breath I knew it wouldn’t happen.
“Fuck!” I said in a harsh whisper as all of the air rushed out of my lungs.
My body sagged. My arms relaxed and the rifle came down to rest against my thighs.
With an aggravated urgency, I broke everything down. I climbed back down and once my feet hit the ground, I took off running for my bike.
It wasn’t the right time, at least that was what I kept telling myself over and over again. If it didn’t feel right then I shouldn’t do it. That was what my mentor had always taught me, to pay attention to my gut as much as my surroundings. It just wasn’t right.
Inside my apartment, I tossed my bag to the ground with a heavy thud. I grabbed at my clothes. I needed to be free. I felt tight and rigid. I felt like I was choking. My fingers tore off my boots, flinging them to the other side of the room. My pants came next, and I cursed the stretch in the fabric that clung to me like a second skin.
Once I was free, I ripped off my shirt and bra in one swoop. I dug through the pile of clothes on the floor, in search of a shirt that wouldn’t feel binding. I grabbed an old, worn tee that I’d found at a thrift store, the neck was frayed and there were a few small holes in the shoulder. It should have been perfect, but as I slid it on, it made my skin itch. It felt like little needles pricking me every time I shifted. It was all in my head, I knew that. I kept telling myself that. But yet, I couldn’t fight the reaction and no matter how much I pulled at the soft cotton, the feeling wouldn’t stop.
I couldn’t understand why I was having such a hard time. He should have been an easy target. He was on the brink of the edge himself and when I looked at him I could see it all. He was broken. He had resigned himself already. He wanted to see the end. So why should it matter if I was the one to give it to him? He was obviously trying to do it himself but he was just doing it the slow way by drowning himself every day. He was a man that had already given up on life. So, why couldn’t I do it? Why couldn’t I be the one to give him that peace? Why did it all feel so wrong?
As I flopped down on the bed, my chest felt tight, my heart raced, and my head was dizzy. I’d never experienced anything like it. I swallowed, finding it hard to do. I gripped the edge of the mattress and forced myself to calm down. After a long while, I faded into the darkness of sleep.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Tank
Dya’s words played over and over in my head for a whole week. That week seemed to have been the worst so far.
Three days ago my mom stopped trying to call me. She had called every day since I’d taken off. She’d left a message every fucking day because I never answered—I never picked up. The one person that I loved as much as I’d loved my son, and I was treating her like shit. It was the last thread. Even though I never answered, it was a constant reminder that I wasn’t alone. The last hold that I had on this world. And now it was gone. The silence from it was crippling and the last little part of my heart broke. She’d given up on me and now there was no reason for me not to give up on myself. It felt like it was the final nail in the coffin.
One last night, I told myself. One last farewell to the world before I ended my perch on the edge. There would be no goodbyes. No second guessing. No more hope.
I drove my truck down the mountain, the destination cemented in my mind this time. Why, though? I had no idea.
The bar came into view much quicker than I was ready for. I’d showered earlier, though, it was hard to tell because my clothes were wrinkled and my hair was still long and hung in my face. My beard was still unkempt. The only thing the shower did was made me smell a little better.
I parked and without hesitation, got out of my truck. I opened the
door and was unsurprised to see Dya behind the bar.
All of a sudden my heart pounded in my chest. My sureness halted as I took my seat at the bar top. I walked out of the house a ready man. Ready to let go. Ready to give myself over to the darkness. But as her eyes slowly slid in my direction, I started to question everything.
I couldn’t say it was because of her warm look and bright smile, because none of that was there. No, her look was almost cold as her eyes met mine. Indifferent to say the least. But there was something more behind it like she was trying her best to close herself off and I wanted to know what the hell was going on in her head. I shouldn’t have. She was the last thing I should have been thinking and wondering about.
Without words, no surprise there, she pulled the bottle off of the shelf and poured my drink. Her hand remained on the glass as she stared into my eyes. Something about her gaze made me want to slink back. It drove me crazy. It was like she was reaching into my soul and seeing everything. My ugly. My sad. Every broken and fractured part of me. And yet, she had no reaction to it all.
I cleared my throat, not sure why.
“You showered,” she said in a flat tone. But the left corner of her lip twitched the slightest bit. If I had blinked I would have missed it. I gave her a firm nod. “Good. Then maybe you won’t stink up my sheets this time.” Her brow raised, and before I could say anything in response, she turned and sauntered off.
I bit back a smile. It was strange and confusing. It was like she expected the same outcome as the two weeks prior. I honestly hadn’t thought of that when I drove down here. But then again, I had come here for one reason, to drink away everything. And in doing that, I knew I wouldn’t be driving anywhere. So maybe in the back of my fucked up brain, I knew I’d end up safely passed out in her bed. I would go as far as to say that I even hoped.
I tossed back my drink, her form becoming distorted as the glass covered my vision. But I didn’t take my eyes off of her. For just a few moments, I didn’t think about my life. I didn’t think about what I’d lost. Or what I’d failed at. Or even what was to come next. I put a long pause on the sadness that clenched my heart as I sat there and admired the beauty in front of me. The dark angel that had completely wrecked my mind.
