No Going Back

by Ainsley Kincade

  Surprised Brandon was still in the building, I nodded. “Sure.”

  He disappeared, shutting the door behind him. Curious, and somewhat worried, I rushed through saving all my files and shutting my computer down. I had a hard time believing Brandon would team up with Marie, but I knew how much he wanted to see a camera in Donovan’s hands as well. The topic was never an easy one for him to discuss. Lately, it had been even more of a hot-button issue. He’d even avoided taking pictures with his phone as he tried to work out the internal torment plaguing him.

  Half expecting to hear raised voices when I approached the hallway leading to the three studios, I was tentatively optimistic when all I heard was mumbled chatter. Maybe Brandon wasn’t up to anything sneaky after all. The sound of their voices drew me to the middle studio as easily as the half open door. Not wanting to intrude, I leaned against the doorway, unnoticed by either man, and waited.

  “The rep claimed the lens would work with any Nikon, but the autofocus won’t lock and some of the other settings are screwed up,” Brandon said. “I’m not using this shit. I had to retake half my shots today because Marie wanted to save a few bucks. She needs to buy brand name if she wants quality. Generic isn’t going to cut it.”

  Donovan sighed. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “Can you make do with manual focus until I can get them switched out?”

  “Sure, if I’m doing stills, but Thursday we’ve got the action shoot. How the fuck am I supposed to manually focus on moving objects?”

  He was pissed, but not at Donovan. Marie had made the decision on which lenses to purchase, despite Donovan’s recommendations. Now he was taking flack for it. Feeling bad, I almost stepped forward and offered to help when Donovan did something unexpected.

  Brandon’s eyes widened when Donovan took the camera from his hands and held it up to his eye. Surprised movement from me made Brandon aware of my presence, but his focus quickly went back to his friend. The room was silent as Donovan manipulated the focus ring and confirmed what Brandon was saying. “Yeah, this isn’t going to work.” He sighed. “We’re supposed to be beta testing the new Alphas and no one has had the time yet. Can you use that? It’s supposed to be excellent for movement. I’ll see if there’s anything we can do to fix this, but you may be stuck until I can get it replaced.”

  “There’s nothing anyone can do to fix it,” Brandon said, “but if you’re going to play around with it, do it on a live model to see what the biggest problems are with it.”

  Donovan started to shake his head, but caught sight of me waiting in the doorway and stopped. He seemed frozen in place. Brandon, though, was looking pleased with himself as he walked toward me.

  “Did you plan this?” I whispered as he approached.

  “No, but I’m not about to waste the opportunity.” He kissed my cheek, whispering, “Make it impossible for him to resist.” Then he walked out of the studio.

  Not completely convinced the opportunity hadn’t been manufactured, I refused to let it pass by. Donovan blinked in confusion when I set my purse down, then closed and locked the studio door. I saw his fingers tighten around the camera, but he still didn’t say anything. It wasn’t until I walked onto the set still up from that morning’s shoot that he panicked.

  “What are you doing?”

  Swallowing the fear that I was about to push him too far, I said, “Brandon said you needed a live model, and since I’d already offered…” I shrugged, as if it were a perfectly ordinary thing to do.

  Donovan shook his head. “He was just saying that. I can already tell…the autofocus, it’s enough…they were wrong and will have to take the shipment back.”

  The shoot I’d sat in on that morning had been detailing how to create high contrast images. Nothing had been changed since there hadn’t been anything scheduled for the afternoon. Knowing that, I walked the edge of the set, turning the lighting back on and avoiding locking gazes with him as I did. My breaths were short and anxious as I came back to the front. Pulling off confident in that moment was like asking me to skydive without a parachute, but this wasn’t about me. It was about protecting him from Marie.

  “Where would you like me?” I asked.

  Donovan’s breathing stalled. He swallowed as his panic rose. “I…don’t…”

  “You don’t want to photograph me?” I asked as I stepped back into the set. My heart was racing, but I kept my gaze on him.

  “You know I do,” he said quietly, “but…”

  Pretending I hadn’t heard the but, I glanced down at the dark jeans and linen blouse I wore, then back up at him. “Brandon had his model in all black. Do you want me to change? The pink in my top is going to washout in this lighting, but I suppose the jeans might be fine.”

  “It’s just a test,” he said, seeming confused on why I was talking about wardrobe when I knew it was the last thing on his mind.

  “Okay, the clothes are fine, but how would you like me positioned?”

  He stared at me. I couldn’t tell from his expression whether he thought I was teasing him or playing some kind of joke. Most likely, he wasn’t sure either. His gaze followed me as I moved to one of the positions Brandon had used earlier. I sat and leaned back into the jet-black winged back chair, crossing one leg over the arm to create additional shadows. I didn’t ask him if he wanted something different. I simply held my position, making it clear I didn’t intend to move until he took the picture.

  Donovan’s grip loosened and tightened on the camera over and over again. His gaze bounced between me, the camera, and the lighting. Attempting to distract him, I unbuttoned the top two buttons on my blouse and closed my eyes. If it was going to take him a while to build up his courage, I wanted to be comfortable as possible and take away as much of his fear as I could. A little temptation wouldn’t hurt either.

  I wasn’t sure how long I sat there in silence before I heard him move. The desire to know what he was doing begged me to open my eyes. I didn’t dare. If he walked away, it was his choice. If he stayed, it wasn’t because I forced him. Holding my breath, I waited, and waited, and waited. I was on the verge of either giving up for nodding off when I heard it.

  Click.

  As badly as I wanted to open my eyes then, I didn’t. I held my breath instead. I couldn’t break the moment. Waiting through another series of clicks, I felt my fear turn to amazement. The only sounds in the room were the camera and his movements. Each shot came more quickly, with less lag time between. It might have been fear that drove him to keep shooting, or maybe it was excitement. I didn’t care which at the moment. He had a camera in hand and was using it for the first time in seven years. We could figure the rest out later.

  His hand slid along my neck as he urged, “Lean your head back, over the arm.”

  As I shifted, he collected my long hair and pulled it from beneath me to hang over the arm of the chair. When I laid back, his other hand slid behind my neck and guided me, his fingers trailing through my hair as he backed away. Several more clicks reached my ears before I felt him move back to my side. I was completely at his mercy as he draped one arm over my forehead, casting more shadows, then placed my other hand between my breasts, fingers hooked on the last button still buttoned. My legs, he moved so both were hanging over the arm, crossed one over the other. My fingers, hooked on the buttons of my blouse, proved too much strain, and the button slipped through the hole. Instead of fixing it, Donovan unbutton another, and another, until my torso was bare except for my bra.

  “Don’t move,” he mumbled as his lips pressed against the bare skin above my navel.

  Not reacting to that was impossible, but I held the position as best I could as I was forced to squeeze my thighs together. The ache settling between my legs made it difficult to focus. I lost track of where Donovan was in the room and only thought of the fact that he was watching me through the camera lens, capturing me in such an intimate setting. Every brush of his fingers, every gentle to
uch meant to move me into a new position, every whispered word, heightened my awareness of him. The slightest movement from him made me tense in anticipation.

  As I stood in the center of the set sometime later, bare from the waist up, with my hair covering my breasts, I slowly unbuckled the belt from my jeans, as he’d asked me to. “Open your eyes, baby,” he said.

  He still held the camera, but he wasn’t hiding behind it any longer. The fear lingered in his eyes, but wonder had taken over. He shook his head, as though he still couldn’t understand what was happening, then raised the camera back to his eye and continued to shoot. My gaze followed him as he moved gracefully around the set. I’d never seen him so focused, so intent, so…complete.

  Marie had accused me of not understanding, of standing in his way. I would still argue that point with her, but I could concede that this side of the man I was living with was completely new to me. He had never lacked confidence since I knew him, but this went beyond that. The way he became part of his art spoke to the claim it had over him. He was at peace with a camera in his hand, though I could tell admitting that scared him immensely.

  I tried to stifle the yawn that clawed at me, but it eventually won the fight and made Donovan pause. “Shit, I didn’t realize what time it was,” he said.

  “It’s fine. Shoot as long as you want. I have nowhere else to be.” I smiled at him, attempting to hide any hint of tiredness, but the hand holding the camera lowered to his side.

  He stood staring down at me, the peaceful energy he’d been exuding only a few minutes earlier slipping away second by second. His brows pinched together as his gaze dropped to the camera and he flinched.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. Stepping toward him, I hesitated being too forceful.

  Donovan shook his head. “Please….don’t mentioned this to anyone.”

  “Why? It’s not a big deal. No one will care we were in here so long,” I argued.

  “I know.” His voice was strained as he spoke, fear taking over once again. “That’s the problem. They’ll all think I’m back, but I’m not.”

  “Okay, you’re not. Nobody says you have to be. You’re just testing out a camera, right?” I was fighting back my own panic, silently begging him not to do anything rash.

  “People will think that if anyone sees these,” he argued.

  I spoke before thinking. “I thought you didn’t care about what everyone else thought.”

  It sounded like a challenge, though I hadn’t meant it as one, and his jaw tightened. “I don’t. Not everyone. Just one person. Anderson Keeling. The man who…”

  “Killed Keira,” I finished when he seemed unable. Surprise spread across his features and I shrank away from his gaze. “Your mom told me.”

  “About his letter?” he demanded. When I nodded, his eyes widened and he speared his hands into his hair. “Why? Why offer to do this then?”

  Bobbing my shoulders, I said, “Because you needed me.”

  At first he didn’t seem to understand, then the tension he was holding softened. “I won’t put you at risk just to satisfy my own needs.”

  “But you’re not. I offered. I want to help. I hate seeing how much not being involved in something so much a part of you is hurting you.” I was pleading with him, but he shook his head and backed away.

  “It’s not worth it,” he snapped. Tearing his gaze from mine, he brought the camera up and started pressing buttons.

  Terrified he was about to delete everything, I rushed him and ripped it out of his hands. “Please,” I begged, “don’t erase them. Don’t do this to yourself. At least keep them for you. Nobody else has to see them. Keep them, though, remind yourself of how much you love this, how much it means to you. Look at what you created.”

  I had no idea what image the screen was showing when I turned it toward him. It was a purely desperate move. I knew he could get the camera away from me if he wanted to. There was no real way for me to stop him from obliterating everything he’d accomplished over the last few hours. This wasn’t about beating out Marie. It was about him. He needed this. Marie, I would find a way to deal with her. Donovan, he was my priority. I would send Rudolph my backup plan and be done with the entire thing.

  The pained expression he wore as he stared at the camera ate at me until I finally turned it around to see what image I had been torturing him with. I stared at my own face, eyes open and staring at the viewer with so much love and desire it was impossible not to see. Everything I felt for him was there in that one image. He was the source of the emotion, the one who had captured it so succinctly, and yet he stood there struggling with the desire to erase it forever.

  It scared me to do it, but I turned the camera off and released the cover for the memory card with shaky fingers, extracting the thin rectangle. Donovan’s eyes widened. I could see the fear in his eyes that I was going to keep it, take the decision from him. Part of me wanted to. Force him to face his demons the same way Marie wanted him to do. The panic in his eyes broke my heart and I knew I couldn’t. Slowly, I reached out and offered it to him.

  “I’m begging you,” I whispered, “don’t delete these. Keep them until you’re ready to do something more, either with these or another set of photos. Just don’t erase them. I won’t tell anyone they exist. I promise. This is just between us. Please, just don’t hide from yourself, or your passion.”

  “You’re my passion now.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t be everything. I can’t replace something that is such a huge part of you. You have to face it eventually, but you don’t have to do it alone.”

  Setting the camera down, I took his hand in mine and placed the memory card on his palm. It was a leap of faith, on both our parts, and I was terrified we were both going to fall.

  FOURTEEN

  Mercy

  Reagan hadn’t mentioned the photos since that night. Brandon hadn’t asked, either. I seemed to be the only one still obsessing over them. Every time I opened the file, I argued with myself over deleting them. If they had been of anyone but Reagan, I would have. Seeing her face, her body, the depth of her emotion…I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It felt like throwing away part of her. I felt as though I were betraying her in some way, even though I knew that didn’t make sense.

  “Hey, you almost ready?” Reagan asked as she walked out of the bedroom. She was reaching behind her neck, trying to catch the clasp of her necklace.

  Closing my laptop quickly, I stood and walked over to help her with the necklace. After securing it for her, she tilted her head out of habit and I kissed her cheek. “You look beautiful.”

  She smiled, but turned to face me with a scowl a moment later. “Why are you so calm? I was on the brink of having a complete meltdown when I met your parents.”

  Chuckling, I turned her in my arms and held her for a few seconds before answering. “I’d probably be more nervous if there wasn’t so much on my mind lately. Honestly, though, your dad seems like a great guy. He just wants you to be happy, and hopefully I’m not wrong in saying I think I’ve been doing a pretty damn god job of that lately, after a few initial screw-ups.”

  Reagan laughed. “Your confidence knows no bounds.” She smiled up at me as her arms tightened around my waist. “I prefer to think of those early tough spots as learning experiences,” she said, “for both of us.” She kissed me lightly. “But yes, you are doing a stellar job of making me happy. Now, finish getting ready so we can go. My dad’s going to meet us at the restaurant and he’s always half an hour early for everything.”

  After giving me a gentle push toward the bedroom, Reagan busied herself picking up a few things around the living room. I flinched when she grabbed my laptop off the couch cushion, but she merely set it on the end table and continued on. Telling myself to relax, I walked into the bathroom and smiled at the mess she’d left behind. Generally, Reagan was rather low maintenance. She was a minimalist when it came to hair and makeup, unless we were going out formally. Then she tried to follo
w the heaps of advice Emily thrust upon her and left the bathroom looking like a tornado of beauty supplies had blown through.

  All I needed was the mirror and my toothbrush. I buttoned the top button of my dress shirt and slid my tie into place before brushing my teeth mechanically. My thoughts swam from one topic to another. Meeting Reagan’s father had been weighing on my mind that whole week. Along with the pictures. And helping Reagan prepare for her part in the presentation she did with Marie at the convention earlier that week—which she had nailed, much to Marie’s satisfaction. Then there was the lack of updates from Detective Bradford.

  Marie, at least, had stopped hounding me about the picture for Reagan’s project and trying to shove me into the studio at every turn. The only interaction we’d had outside of our regular meetings was when my computer started sending documents to the printer for no reason and she’d let the IT guy into my office while I was at lunch to figure out what was going on. I’d been surprised to come back and find them in my office, but they were wrapping up just as I returned.

  I suspected Marie backing off had something to do with Brandon. There were times I wanted to punch Brandon for the shit he pulled on a regular basis. It wouldn’t fucking kill him to attend a meeting, but Reagan didn’t seem to mind playing messenger girl with him and it saved me headaches not having to deal with his ego in front of everyone else. He still called Reagan Beautiful every time her saw her, and kissed her, on the lips, which was reason enough to make me want to kick his ass, but when he wasn’t needling me for the hell of it, he was watching my back as he always had.

  He knew, I was almost positive, that I had used the camera that night two weeks ago. He knew I was hording the pictures. Instead of pushing me to reveal them, set up a show, get back into the studio, all the shit everyone else was bugging me about, he seemed to see it as a first step and was patiently waiting to nudge me on to the next one while telling Marie to back the fuck off.