Snapshot: A Dark Romantic Suspense

by Rebel Farris

  It took a few moments for me to gather where we were moving. The barn. I struggled harder, knowing the one time that I was in there, the place was covered in blood. Turkey blood. But that wasn’t comforting enough. They had tortured a guy here, and the barn seemed a likely spot.

  He removed the hand from my mouth to open the barn door, and I seized the opportunity. I screamed as loud and as long as my lungs would allow. Sucking in a deep breath, I did it again.

  The man laughed. “Do that all you want. There is no one around to hear you.”

  My heart raced. My chest felt like it was in a vise as tears welled up in my eyes. Xander wasn’t here. I tried to grab on the doorframe as we passed through it, but he kept moving like it was nothing more than a minor annoyance. This was so stupid. I was so stupid. All this time spent trying to survive, to play it smart and keep safe, and I did the dumbest thing I could do.

  I closed my eyes, but it didn’t block the pain or reality. He let go. It was unexpected, and I collapsed to the floor like a rag doll before I knew what was happening. My head hit the floor with a thump, and I groaned. But I think the hit knocked some sense into me because I wasn’t panicked anymore. I remembered.

  I had a gun.

  The purse was still strapped over my torso. I curled my body around it to hide my hand as it slid into the purse, fishing for my weapon. But I didn’t see it coming when his steel-toed boot connected with the left side of my back, just under my ribs. The force was enough to throw me across the space and into one of the half walls that partitioned the stalls. The corner edge of the wall hit just under my shoulder blades, and as momentum carried me farther away, the rough wood tore through my sweater, scraping my back up to my shoulders and knocking the air from my lungs.

  I took a moment to find the ability to breathe, but that moment was a moment too long. He pulled the purse over my head and tossed it to the other side of the room. My eyes locked on it, and I cried out internally for its loss. That was my last best chance at surviving this.

  Protect the baby. Live for the baby.

  Those words skipped through my head on repeat as I stood. Still gasping for air, I took the chance and ran for it. And that’s when he hit me. I don’t know if it was his hand or an object, but pain raced through my skull like lightning. The force sent me stumbling forward. It wasn’t far enough. I collapsed to the ground, and my vision began to dim. I reached for my purse, but it was still a foot away or more.

  Darkness.

  I didn’t know if I was dead or merely unconscious. I didn’t know how long that moment lasted. There was a sound. It was loud and high-pitched, like a snap.

  Plink.

  Plink.

  Plink.

  Water.

  Drops.

  Rain.

  It was raining. My heart did a little flip at that. If it was raining, then I was alive. The first thing I did was reach up to feel the part of my head that was pounding its own heartbeat. My pulse raced at the feel of the swollen, matted, soggy mess of hair. I blinked rapidly as my vision slowly came back. It was dark, but strips of filtered moonlight leaked in with the light rain through gaps in the barn’s weathered siding.

  Cold.

  The temperature had dropped again. I raised my hand in front of my eyes, trying to see if the wetness in my hair was from the rain or blood. The shadows were too deep, and the bottom of my hand only looked like more darkness.

  I heard another sound. Something shuffling from the other side of the room. I froze, putting my hand back where it was when I was unconscious. I listened. He didn’t kill me while I was down, which meant he wanted me awake for whatever he had planned. I could use a few moments to come up with a plan.

  Xander had to be back. Unless he was gone for good.

  I couldn’t see my purse from the direction my head was tilted. I only knew one of two things: either he was smart enough to look there and found the gun, or he thought it wasn’t necessary because he had control. He might assume I had hair spray or something a woman would likely carry. So, it could still be there.

  The right side of my body was numb. Possibly because I’d been in the same position for too long. I needed to move. The shuffling sounds continued, punctuated by a few thumps. He was far enough away that I should be able to make it to my purse if it was still there.

  Move.

  As fast as my brain wanted me to go, my body was still sluggish. I didn’t move quite as fast as I hoped. Then the light flickered on.

  Ever heard the expression deer in headlights? It’s possibly the stupidest thing a deer does. It costs them their life more often than not. So when I found myself in the face of a bright light, I stopped. And I wanted to kick my own ass for doing it.

  “She is awake.”

  At the sound of the stranger’s voice, my synapses fired again, and I set into motion too late. I only had enough time to get to my hands and knees. I spotted a loose board nearby just as his body crashed into me. But I got it. I grabbed the board, and when he flipped me over to my back, I swung.

  I put every ounce of strength into that swing.

  Protect the baby. Live for the baby.

  It cracked against the side of his head. The force reverberating up to my arm made me lose my grip, and the wood clattered to the floor.

  “Piča,” he muttered as he shook his head.

  There was an angry gash on his cheek, oozing blood, but it wasn’t enough to make him lose consciousness. Fuck. I reached for the board again, but he grabbed it, yanking it from my hand and tossing it across the room. His hands fumbled at my waist, and when I felt my jeans loosen, I knew what he had in store for me.

  I only had one last option. I opened my mouth and screamed.

  Welcome

  My head was pounding, and my throat was dry from screaming. I fought against him, to the point that my muscles were shaking from the strain.

  “No,” I croaked.

  I found an opening and brought my knee up to his groin with as much force as I could muster. He groaned. His face changed, the deep lines creasing even further with anger. He reared back, raising his arm. I braced myself. I knew it was coming. He was going to hit me, and I didn’t know if I would survive it or even remain conscious.

  But that’s not what happened. One second, his fist was barreling toward me, the next, he was gone, and the only evidence that he had been on top of me were my gasps for air in the absence of that weight. I heard them shouting in Czech to each other as they grappled on the floor, a few feet from my head.

  Xander.

  Relief swept through me so sharply, tears streamed from my eyes. He came back. He was here. But that relief was short-lived as I watched the stranger get the upper hand, punching Xander over and over again. I had to react fast. I was too weak to stand, so I crawled the short distance.

  It was there. The gun was still in my purse, fully loaded. I flipped off the safety and struggled to stand. Using the last of my strength, I squared off my feet, and raised the gun. Xander was too close to him to get a decent shot.

  “Hey!” I shouted.

  Xander glanced in my direction and gave a slight, barely perceptive nod. He did some move that was too fast for my eyes to track, pushing the man up and away from him. The man glanced over, and I stared into his eyes as they widened with realization.

  “Welcome to Texas, bitch.” I pulled the trigger.

  Blood, brain matter, and bone arced out from the back of his head as the bullet hit its mark. Sort of. I was aiming for his forehead and hit his right eye instead. It took a moment before his body slumped over, falling on top of Xander. Longer than you’d think it would take for death to fully sink in.

  Xander rolled the body off him, and everything hit me all at once. My legs folded underneath me like a marionette, and I dropped the gun.

  I killed someone. I just killed someone, my brain repeated on an endless loop. Xander was in front of me, inspecting me for damage. Words were coming from his mouth, but I couldn’t hear them. The
y were muffled by the endless ringing in my ears and the repetitive thought running through my head.

  He kissed me, pulling me into his arms. I lay there, limp. Every part of me felt like Jell-O shaking in a loose mold.

  “I killed him,” I mumbled. “I killed someone.”

  “I know, Rosie. I am so sorry.” Xander squeezed me a little tighter, and I winced.

  He loosened his hold and wiped the tears from my face. I didn’t know I was crying. No, I was sobbing. I fought to catch my breath. Reaching out a shaky hand, I traced my fingertips over the deep-purple bruises blooming on Xander’s cheek and chin. The split in his lip was still bleeding. Yet I didn’t care as I pulled his head down and ghosted my lips over his. When I moved away, his lips turned down at the corners.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “I had to tell you. I needed to tell you before you leave…” My throat was dry, and the words caught, choking me. I coughed a few times, feeling the ache throughout my body. “I’m pregnant.”

  Xander’s face played out a myriad of emotions, from shock to happiness, then anger as he looked over at the other man. When his gaze returned back to me, the smile in his eyes would have taken over his face if not for the injuries. He kissed me again, not being careful of his injuries. And when he pulled back, tears filled his eyes.

  I looked over to the dead body, trying to wrap my mind around all of this. “Who was he?”

  “Čenĕk Prochazka. He was my partner on this mission.”

  “You know, the first thing he said to me was: you look well for a dead girl.”

  Xander closed his eyes and didn’t respond. I was beginning to think that I needed to phrase it as a question, when his eyes opened and he pinned me with a serious look.

  “I was to kill you. The day we met.” He nodded once before his eyes took on a distant, faraway look. “We heard you in the forest. Čenĕk decided that he would dispose of your car and report the information we gathered back to home. I was to destroy all the evidence. That moment when I first laid eyes on you, it was not only that you were beautiful. You didn’t react like anyone else would. I have been surrounded by death most of my life. I have seen many people discover bodies. No one had ever been made curious by it. Until you. You leaned in and took a picture. You studied it. You intrigued me for what you did. I wanted to know more about you. And I have never felt that urge before.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I stayed silent. My morbid curiosity saved my life from the man I loved. I felt detached from it. Like I couldn’t reconcile the fact that he was supposed to kill me. Perhaps because I’d spent so much time thinking exactly that, only to work through those feelings to realize that I loved him. It just didn’t matter to me anymore. None of it did. Only him, me, and the baby were important. And we were alive.

  “Everything you did from that day drew me in further. Until I realized that I love you and there was no going back. I could never hurt you. You, this baby, mean more to me than you will ever understand. I did not know that I needed it until you said those words. My heart feels so full, and I thought that I could never have that. I told myself that I was not built for it.”

  Can a heart break out of joy? Because it felt like mine did in that moment. This broken, lonely man, whose path in life separated him from everyone he loved, met a girl who separated herself from life because of things that were beyond her control. And in each other, they found someone who could accept the weight of who they were.

  He spared my life and saved me instead, and I saved him back.

  “I love you,” I said, stroking his cheek.

  He sighed and cupped his hand to the back of mine, pressing it to his face. “I love you too, zvonová sklenice.”

  “So… what do we do now?”

  Relief

  “Order up,” I shouted into the kitchen.

  It’d been one week to the day since the incident at the farmhouse. Xander insisted I go to a doctor; I got several stitches and a nice bald spot shaved on the side of my head for the trouble. He stayed with me that night, making sure I survived the concussion. But after that, he went back to the farmhouse to “clean up the evidence.” Then he was going back home, to Czechoslovakia.

  He promised to return, but he didn’t know when he would be able to.

  “Before the baby is born,” he whispered in my ear, kissing my neck. “I would have come back for you alone, but I will not miss meeting my child for the world.”

  Today was day seven. Christmas Eve.

  The restaurant was slow. Not many came in on holidays, which is why it was me and one cook manning the place. We had a few early diners, those who didn’t want to cook. But it was past eight o’clock now, and the only ones left were the lonely souls, like me, who had no better place to be.

  I worried to no end what would happen. What he would say to make it all better. You didn’t kill someone without consequence, and I ‘d taken a life. A member of his organization, no less. He was scared that I picked up the phone—what would they do when they found out I killed one of their own?

  “Do not worry about it,” he cooed. “I will take care of it, and you will be safe.”

  “It’s not just me. I’m worried about you too.”

  “Nothing will happen to me. You have no reason to worry.” He stroked my hair and kissed me.

  Then the next morning, he was gone.

  I didn’t care how many times he said it, I’d never fully believe it until he was back in my arms. It’d been seven long days that felt more like seven months. I’d chewed every fingernail on my hands down to the quick.

  Rachel nearly shit a brick when she saw me at work the next day. If Xander had been there, and she had Gary’s shotgun, he would’ve been a dead man. It took hours for her to calm down and fully comprehend that it wasn’t Xander who put the bruises on my arms. When she finally understood, she shoved the application for the house next door in my face and told me she didn’t care, she wanted me close by. Somehow, I’d managed to skirt the issue this long. I wasn’t entirely sure what Xander and I would do when he did return.

  I sighed, looking out over the restaurant. There were only three customers in the joint. Franny and Jack, an older couple whose kids had grown up and moved away, and Benny.

  Benny was a regular who sat at the counter every night. He was a widower in his late fifties. His wife died about five years back. Cancer. He didn’t cook and didn’t like being at home alone, so he was here after he got off work until we closed.

  “Need some more coffee, Benny?”

  He looked up from reading the newspaper and smiled. “Can’t say no to an offer like that.”

  I pulled the carafe from the coffee machine and walked over to him.

  “I never got the chance to tell you before, but I’m really glad you’re back. You make the best coffee in three counties. The boys and I stopped coming here in protest when you were gone. Told Oscar if he didn’t get you back...” He shook his head, scratching his thinning hair. “It was tough. Had to eat at McDonald’s. And their coffee is terrible.”

  “You didn’t have to do that, Benny.” I filled his cup and set the carafe aside, leaning my elbows on the counter and looking him in the eyes. “Oscar didn’t fire me. It was my fault.”

  “We all make mistakes, dear. But don’t go doin’ somethin’ like that again. Y’hear?”

  I smiled. “Sure thing, Benny. You need anything else?”

  He shook his head and went back to his paper. I busied myself, working on closing duties for the rest of the night. With only one more hour ’til close, time seemed to fly by.

  “Merry Christmas,” I called to Benny as he finally shuffled out the door.

  I was wiping down the counter where he’d sat when I heard the bells jingle above the door. My heart quickened with hope. My head couldn’t turn fast enough. But my shoulders dropped as Gary strolled in.

  “I didn’t think I’d have to tell you that we’re closed, Gare.”

&n
bsp; He pulled off his hat and twisted it in his hands. “I’m here on Rachel’s orders to make sure you get home without any trouble.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” I sighed. “She’s just bein’ paranoid. And I told her it was fine. I’ve made it home all week without incident.”

  He shrugged. “Don’t need you gettin’ lost again.”

  I rolled my eyes to the heavens. “Let me just wash out this mug and we can go. Pete already closed the kitchen. I’ve done everything else.”

  Gary nodded and sat at the counter to wait. I hurried back to the dish station, making quick work of the mug. Gary stood and followed me out the door, waiting as I locked the place up tight. When I turned, I noticed his car wasn’t here. My lips twisted into a frown.

  “Tony dropped me off,” Gary said, reading my confusion.

  “So you need a ride home?”

  He smiled. “You could say that.”

  He put his arm over my shoulder, leading me to my truck in the back parking lot. The drive to his and Rachel’s house was quick. They lived closer to the diner.

  As I pulled into their driveway, I noticed the trailer next to theirs had all the lights on. A fully-decorated Christmas tree sat in the window. My heart sank. I know I told Rachel no a hundred times and avoided it, but part of me thought that maybe Xander would come back and we’d make the decision to move there together.

  I hesitated as Gary got out of the truck. “Someone moved in next door?”

  “Yep, today of all days, if you can imagine that.” He looked over his shoulder at the house and back to me.

  I snorted. “Who moves on Christmas Eve?”

  Gary shrugged. “You wanna meet the new neighbor?”

  “What? No.” I cringed. “I’m not bothering a strange family on Christmas Eve.”