She glanced down. Her dress was torn. There were small cuts along her arms and legs from sleeping on the gravel, and she had lost a shoe at some point during the night.
She forced herself to stand on wobbly legs and hung her head. She dreaded going back to Parklon’s apartment. But where else could she go? She had no money left and no return ticket to Derobmi.
She gritted her teeth and steeled herself for the walk to his apartment.
It’ll be okay. I’ll talk to him about it. He can’t have changed that much.
Carla stood outside Parklon’s apartment and searched for her keys. Crap, crap, crap. She tried to remember when she’d last seen them.
They’d been on their way to the Paradise nightclub. She’d been rushing out of the door, and Bex had been behind her. Putting my keys in my handbag and telling me not to forget them. Crap, Bex has my bag and my keys!
She rested her head on the door. There goes any hope of sneaking in and going to sleep before seeing Parklon again.
“Oh, you’re back, deary.” Carla spun around to see Mrs. Carridan, the little old lady from across the hall, peering out from her doorway.
“Oh, hi.” Carla smiled politely. “I hope I wasn’t making too much noise? Oh, and I picked up your mail.” She handed the older woman the two letters she held in her hand. She’d got into the habit of bringing up the woman’s post since her first morning here when she’d seen her struggling to climb the stairs back up to her apartment.
“No, no, not at all. You’re such a nice young lady. Much nicer than that other girl he has in here.”
“Other girl?” Carla didn’t like the sound of that.
“You know. The one he used to date. She’s all sugar and softness when he’s around and like a viper when he’s not.” She sounded disapproving.
“I don’t think I’ve met his ex.” She frowned at Mrs. Carridan. She wasn’t entirely sure where the conversation was going.
“Don’t be silly, of course you have. She comes around all the time, the one with the spiky hair. You’d do better to avoid associating with the likes of her. She’s not a very nice person.” Mrs. Carridan confided.
“Bex?” A penny dropped inside Carla’s head with a loud clunk. “Parklon’s ex-girlfriend is Bex?”
“Rebecca, yes.” Mrs. Carridan’s watery blue eyes narrowed when she said her name. “I was hoping she wouldn’t be coming around anymore after you arrived.”
“I’ll see what I can do about it.” Carla smiled grimly.
“That would be good.” Mrs. Carridan paused on her way back into her own apartment. “I don't wish to be a busybody,” she said apologetically. “I just had to say something when I saw her coming around again.”
“I’m glad you did.” The smile felt frozen on Carla’s face.
Mrs. Carridan returned the smile and then closed her apartment door.
Bex is his ex - girlfriend? Well, that explains a lot! Carla was furious. What else did she lie to me about?
With renewed determination, she turned on her heel and knocked on Parklon’s front door. I need to talk to him about all of this.
After a brief delay, she heard movement on the other side of the door while she waited for the door to open. She wondered what she was going to say to Parklon when she saw him and smiled nervously.
Bex opened the door and Carla’s smile froze on her lips.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Carla asked, narrowing her eyes at Bex.
“I might ask you the same,” Bex said in a cold voice.
“Who is it?” Parklon asked. He wandered past the open door, dressed in only a towel. His hair was wet, and his muscled chest was bare.
Carla stared at his chest in silence for a moment, and then she saw red as events unfolded in slow motion for her.
Bex stood smirking at her in the doorway. Parklon was half-naked and alone with Bex in the apartment. I’m such a fool. All this time moping over him and he’s been with her all along. Why didn’t I see it?
Carla shoved Bex out of her way and stormed into the apartment. She stopped in front of Parklon with her hands on her hips, glaring at him. “It’s that girl who isn’t your ex-girlfriend.” She scowled at him. “Remember her? The one you…” She paused. Her relationship with him had never gone past friendship. The most they’d ever done was flirt. “…abandoned in the club last night?”
“Bex said—” He began.
“Oh well, if Bex said it, it must be true.” Carla interrupted, too angry to listen to his excuses. She turned on her heel to face Bex, glaring at her. “What did Bex say this time?”
“You were with Max.” Bex feigned innocence, managing to appear surprised by Carla’s accusations.
It’s all an act with her. She’s been setting me up for weeks. “Max. Your friend Max?” Carla shouted at her.
“I don’t know him,” Bex said coldly, narrowing her eyes at Carla. “He was your friend, not mine.”
“You introduced us!” Carla cried.
“Maybe if you didn’t drink so much, you’d have a better memory,” Bex said in a disapproving tone.
“Where did this towel come from?” Parklon asked randomly, holding out the towel that he’d been using to dry his hair.
She glanced at him. He seemed uncomfortable with the conversation. He was clearly trying to change the subject.
She tried to calm herself down and to remember that Parklon was her friend. She was angry with him, but she realized that she needed to keep her cool. Think happy thoughts.
“Carla stole it from her hotel,” Bex said loudly, shattering Carla’s inner calm in an instant.
“You stole it from my hotel!” Carla shouted back at her.
“Why would I steal from your hotel? Why would I be in your hotel room?” Bex’s eyes glinted with malevolent glee.
“So you could set me up.” Carla turned to Parklon. “You know me. Can’t you see she’s lying?”
Parklon met Carla’s eyes and all she saw in his face was disappointment and anger.
“Do you have that little faith in me?” she asked.
“Why should he have faith in you?” Bex butted in before Parklon could speak.
Carla spun around and scowled at Bex’s smiling face. Anger burned in the back of her throat. She wanted to wipe the smile off Bex’s face forever. “Well, I’m not a desperate ex-girlfriend trying to cling to a guy who doesn’t want me anymore,” Carla said with venomous glee.
“That’s exactly what you are.” Bex’s eyes were slits. “In fact you’re worse. You’re a girlfriend wannabe. He doesn’t even like you. You just pretend to be a nice girl to wrap him around your finger, when in reality you’re just a drunken whore.”
Something inside Carla snapped. She lashed out at Bex with her powers in a moment of pure rage. The force slammed her into the wall with a loud crack.
Parklon widened his eyes in horror, running over to Bex and knelt beside her inert form. He stared up at Carla. His face was white with shock. “What did you do?” He appeared appalled by her actions.
“She was lying about me. She was talking about herself, not me!” Carla tried to defend herself, but a part of her felt ashamed. She shouldn’t have done that. “Is she okay?”
Bex’s eyes fluttered open, and she helplessly peered up at Parklon. “Don’t let her hurt me again.” She buried her head into his chest.
“Oh, for Gods’ sake! She’s acting again!” Carla gestured at Bex, convinced that Parklon would see it too. “She’s so full of shi—” Carla began.
Parklon stood up and faced Carla with thunder in his eyes. “You want to know what I really think.” He cut her off. “I think you’re an awful person. I think you have just hurt someone for no reason. I think you drink too much. I think you have enough men in your life right now and don’t need me as well.”
“What?” Carla couldn't believe what she was hearing.
“I think you let Bob die when you could have helped him,” Parklon continued, spitting insults at her
as if they were bullets. “Hell, all you had to do was call me, but you didn’t. You were here and too busy having fun. I think any friend of yours is doomed to get hurt.” He pointed to Bex. “And I don’t think I want to be your friend anymore.” He walked over to Carla while he spoke, ending up with his face threateningly close to hers as his voice choked with anger and hatred.
“I think you had better pack your things and get the hell out of my apartment.”
She couldn’t believe he was throwing her out, and her voice died in her throat. She was lost for words.
“Right now,” he said coldly.
The words ‘I couldn’t call you’ sat unspoken on her lips.
Bob’s dead. How could he be? She couldn’t have handled it on a normal day, but finding out like this was just too much.
“Now who's acting?” Bex sneered, but Carla was too shocked to respond.
She turned around and ran upstairs to gather her belongings. Tears stung her eyes, and she forced them back in. They will not see me cry!
Parklon had just become an enemy. He’d just hurt her more than she had known anyone could hurt her. And the worst part of it was that most of what he’d said was true, not all of it but most of it.
She quickly threw her clothes into her case and hoisted her rucksack onto her shoulder. Then she dragged the case down the stairs. She glanced at Parklon and Bex before she left.
He’d carried Bex to the couch and was kneeling beside her, talking quietly and stroking her cheek. Bex couldn't take her eyes off him.
Carla left the apartment and stumbled down the hall, holding every bad feeling inside. I will not cry, I will not cry.
Tears spilled down her face anyway. She’d just lost her best friend and any hopes of love had gone with him.
She wished Bob were here. He handled crazy better than anyone she knew, and Carla’s world had just turned crazy. Nothing made sense anymore. Everything was upside down.
She stepped into the street and inhaled fresh air to try to clear her head, but she was consumed by raw emotion and a strong sense of loss.
Without realizing what she was doing or why she was doing it, she stumbled down the uneven sidewalk. The direction didn’t matter. She didn’t have anywhere to go.
Traffic roared above Carla as she huddled under the overpass. She blankly stared up at the thick concrete. She didn’t know why she’d chosen to stop here. It was a forty-minute walk from the city center, but it was sheltered from the rain, and no one seemed to mind her camping out here. There was no one here to mind. Perhaps it was the solitude that had appealed to her.
Her suitcase didn’t hold much that was useful for living outdoors, but a few towels were working quite nicely as blankets.
She sighed and peered out at the rough wilderness surrounding her. She had followed a countryside riverbank to get here. She watched the river flow in front of her, its bank covered in untouched wild grasses and weeds. The giant concrete overpass was an alien structure in this setting. Nature surrounded her, but it brought her no peace. She couldn’t relax. The dirt and random visits from insects were making her uncomfortable.
She stared at the rippling tide of the river while thinking about Bob. She didn’t even know how he’d died. Had it hurt? Had he suffered?
Her eyes felt raw from crying, and the tears had eventually stopped coming, leaving a hollow emptiness in their wake. I should have tried harder. Regret weighed heavy on her.
She couldn’t shake off the feeling of utter doom. One of her friends was dead, and there was nothing she could do about it. Her adventure and escape from self-pity had led her to a much worse place than where she had begun.
Both of her best friends were gone, and any chance of Parklon being more than a friend was gone now too.
She grudgingly admitted to herself that she’d had romantic thoughts about him. She’d hoped that one day they would be more than friends.
I’m so stupid! There had been no indication that he felt the same way about her. No words, no declarations of love, just friendship and even that had been absent for months.
She wanted to blame him for dragging her here and putting her in this position, but she knew he hadn’t. She had brought herself to this point. She had shaken off her old life on the off-chance that Parklon and Zoola had more to offer. She’d been selfish and thinking only of herself when she should have been thinking about her friends.
She turned her head and watched the dull green grasses blowing in the breeze. The grass was not greener here.
The spits of rain increased to heavy drops, and dark clouds filled the sky as a storm gathered above. She pulled the towels more tightly around her as the wind blasted against her. Rain poured from the skies onto the ground. Safe from the rain beneath the overpass, she curled up for warmth. Lightning forked through the clouds in the distance, and the wind caused her to shiver as the loud rumble of thunder echoed around her.
Carla usually loved storms. They made her feel alive. But not today, today she felt vulnerable and in danger. She flinched when the thunder roared again. Am I safe here?
Parklon closed the door with relief when Bex finally went home. Not that he minded her being around, but she’d been acting a bit clingy since Carla had left. He liked Bex as a friend, but he’d never date her again. He thought he’d made that clear when he had given her a job in his office.
She wanted to come over tomorrow too. He wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. Everything seemed so messy since he’d returned.
He poured himself a cup of coffee from the freshly-brewed pot and tried to organize his thoughts while he added a dash of milk to it.
The same question kept repeating in his thoughts. What the hell had happened to the Carla he knew? He knew he’d been away for a few months, but she was so different now. What happened to her?
None of it made sense to him. She’d always been wild, but not in a selfish way and certainly not in a slutty way. According to Bex, she was with a different man every night.
He frowned. But Carla had called Bex a liar. Perhaps she was lying about that. Yeah, and Isabella lied too? How much evidence do you need?
He stirred the coffee and took a sip. A quote from an old movie popped into his head. When pointing out the flaws in others, people always end up talking about themselves.
I need more evidence than I have. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Perhaps he’d been too harsh with her. He needed to find out what really happened and decided to investigate Carla’s story a bit more closely.
He turned on his laptop and used the agency’s software to GPS track her cell phone. Being a spy did have its advantages.
The forks of lightning were drawing nearer, and Carla cowered against the concrete wall of the overpass. She watched the electrical storm light up the skies while streaks shot down to the earth all around her. Thoughts of the future faded against the very real threat of an electrical storm. Please make it stop.
“Are you okay?” A familiar voice interrupted her panic. She glanced up to see a drenched Max standing in front of her. Drips of water were rolling down his face from his rain-flattened hair.
She was happy to see a friendly face. “I think I need help.”
“What are you doing here?” He frowned, eyeing her battered suitcase and makeshift blankets.
“Parklon threw me out. I didn’t have anywhere to go,” she said, trying to stop her voice from shaking. “Then the storm freaked me out.”
“You didn’t strike me as the kind of girl who’d be scared of a storm.” The sky had calmed since he arrived, and it did seem a bit silly to be scared of it now, but being alone had fed her fears.
“I’m not, normally.” She hung her head, embarrassed by her own stupidity. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know what to do. My life is such a mess.” She stared at the ground, unable to meet his eyes and tell him everything that she had done wrong.
“I’ve got something that’ll make all your problems disappear.” His voice was ple
asant and calm.
She peered up, hopeful that he had all the answers, but found herself staring into the barrel of a large revolver instead. She froze. Max seemed a blur behind the barrel of the gun, which was just a few inches away from her eyes.
“What are you doing?” she gasped, trying to back away, but encountering the cold wall of the overpass instead.
“My job,” Max said coldly. “I thought it’d be harder than this, but you make it so easy.” He gestured around him. “You picked a desolate place, with no witnesses.” He pointed at her. “And you become a scared little girl. It’s made my job very easy, so thank you for that.”
“Your job is to kill me?”
“Any last words?” He appeared bored as if he did this every day.
She couldn’t believe she was going to die here like this without knowing why, without any good reason. But part of her had already given up trying to survive. The gun, the guy, what did it matter? Someone was bound to destroy her eventually. They just kept coming. One enemy after another appeared, and her friends kept disappearing.
“I hope Bob forgives me,” she said as she hung her head, waiting for a bullet in it.
“Who’s Bo—uff!” Max didn’t finish the sentence. She peered up, seeing something big and heavy hit him before it knocked him to the ground.
Her eyes widened when she identified Parklon on the ground, wrestling with Max. They were evenly matched in size and muscle, and she watched as Parklon slammed Max’s wrist into the ground, trying to force him to release the gun.
Parklon was on top of Max holding his gun-hand down by the wrist while Max was struggling under him, trying to break free. Max’s free hand was around Parklon’s throat.
“Don’t just sit there, do something!” Parklon shouted back at her.
She shook herself out of the daze as she jumped up and raised her hands to the skies, calling on her powers with all her energy.
Max released Parklon’s throat and punched him in the face, which knocked him sideways. Then Max raised the gun with his other hand and aimed it at Carla.
Science Fiction and Fantasy Box Set 1: The Squishies Series Page 31
