by Stella James
“You’re looking well rested these days,” Esme notices. “Do I need to come over and help with corpse disposal or did your hired assassin take care of that for you?”
“Ha, ha. I did not have Sebastian killed,” I say. “We’ve called a truce.”
“Sebastian eh? Well that sounds nice,” she winks.
“It’s not like that. We’re just friendly, that’s all,” I insist.
“Well, friends are always good to have,” she says grinning.
“Yes. Friends are great,” I say, picking my bag up off the table. “Okay, I’m out of here, I want to stop by the park and see if I can find Jack.”
She drops the rag she’s using to wipe the counters and wipes her hands on her long red skirt before she places her palms on either side of my face.
“You are beautiful on the inside and on the outside, my Anastasia,” she says, kissing my cheek. “And don’t you forget it.”
“I love you too,” I say.
It’s mid-afternoon by the time I reach the park. I decide to walk through rather than around, so I can enjoy the fresh air. I know Jack will be scarce today because the park will be busy, so rather than looking for him in his usual spot, I keep walking to the quieter side where there aren’t as many benches and tables set up and likely less people. Bingo.
Jack is sitting on the grass under a large tree, drinking a cup of coffee. I wave as I approach and hold up the bag in my hand. He smiles in return.
“Hi,” I say, sitting down beside him. “Good call on the shade.”
“Mmhm. How was Sunday brunch today, Miss B?”
“Lunch, on me,” I say, passing the plastic bag to him. “It was good, thanks.”
“You’re too kind,” he says, setting the bag down on the grass beside him.
“It’s no trouble at all,” I smile. “So? What’s new?”
Jack and I make small talk, again, not getting too personal. I’ve never asked what led to his circumstances and he’s never offered an explanation, so we continue to leave that as is. We talk about the weather and the construction on the other side of the park. It’s a plain conversation but I enjoy it anyways. We walk to the edge of the park before parting, me for home, and him to the nearest shelter after waving off my offer to call around for him.
I take a small detour on my way and stop in at the fabric store. I fidget with a package of needles for my sewing machine and mindlessly begin to wander the aisles. I run my fingers along the different shades of yellow fabric, thinking I should make a new dress since my other one was completely unsalvageable. Just as I’m about to pull a bundle from the shelf, my gaze flickers to the bin ahead of me and I see a flash of pink. It’s vibrant and bold and reminds me of a Gerber daisy.
Why the hell not?
*
“What the fig is wrong with these kids today? Was there a damn full moon last night that I’m not aware of?”
“Heck if I know, just avoid eye contact and keep passing out the coloured paper,” I say. “We’re almost there.”
Melinda slumps her shoulders and continues stepping around the tiny tables and chairs, handing out craft paper while glaring at the clock on the wall. So far today we’ve had two bloody noses, three tantrums over the rotation of centre time, and one accident. Full moon or not, today is dwindling along at a snail’s pace. I’m hoping that we can keep the kids busy with some colouring for the last ten minutes before it’s home time. One of us is required for outside supervision today during pick-up, so I take pity on Melinda and send her out.
“God bless you. First drink is on me,” she says as she walks by.
I hang up some dress up clothes and stack the last of the building blocks to kill time when the bell rings and I sigh with relief. I love my job. But today has been rough and for the first time in a long time, I’m taking Melinda and a couple of the other teachers up on their invitation to happy hour.
Once all the kids have their backpacks and outdoor shoes, I send them in the direction of the front door where another teacher is waiting. I’m just gathering my things when there is a soft knock on the door. I look up and see a familiar face.
“Mr. Kent, how are you?”
“Jay, please,” he says. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.”
I gesture to the small blue table nearest the door and we each take a seat in the comically small plastic chairs.
“Sorry,” I apologize. “Everything around here is miniature.”
“I wanted to talk to you about Darius,” he begins. “I wanted to take advantage of speaking to you in private while he’s with his mother this week.”
“Yeah, for sure,” I say. “He’s been doing great in class, a little on the quiet side at times, but he listens to directions and plays nice with everyone.”
“I’m glad for that, he’s a good kid,” he says.
“So…what’s the problem?”
“Right. Well his mother has been throwing around the idea of sending him to boarding school. She talks about it right in front of Darius and he’s been having nightmares about being sent away.”
“Wow. Boarding school? I didn’t even know those places still exist, it sounds so old fashioned.”
“Apparently they do. We’re going to be having it out in court, there’s no way in hell I’m agreeing to that bullshit,” he seethes. “Sorry. I just, I’m a mess over this.”
“I understand completely. Is there anything I can do on my end?”
He exhales roughly and hesitates for a moment. “Could you just, maybe, keep an extra eye on him? I know you have a big class and I don’t expect special treatment, but I’m worried he won’t talk to me and his mom is just, well, she’s not exactly maternal.”
“I would be happy to look out for Darius,” I assure him. “It’s part of my job and no trouble at all. Maybe I’ll pull him aside on Monday and just ask him how he’s doing? Maybe he’ll tell me something he hasn’t been telling you.”
“I would really appreciate that Ms. Brookes,” he says.
“Anna.”
“Thank you, Anna.”
“Of course,” I say, standing from the small table. “I’ll give you a call next week if I have anything to report.”
“Great,” he replies as Melinda walks back into the room and looks at him expectantly. “I’ll get out of your hair now, have a good weekend ladies.”
“You too,” we both say.
“Le sigh,” Melinda says dreamily. “He’s so fine.”
“Okay love bird, grab your purse so you can buy me that cocktail,” I say, flipping off the light switch.
“Oh, sassy,” she says. “I like it when you’re all annoyed with your job and need booze to cope. It’s almost as if you’re like the rest of us peasants,” she teases.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t make me lose my nerve,” I say. “My sofa is sounding pretty spectacular right now.”
“No,” she says firmly, pointing a slim finger in my direction. “We are going to happy hour like normal underpaid servants in the public education system and we are going to eat fat burgers and manipulate Coach Rogers into buying us a round.”
“And how exactly are you going to do that?”
“With my natural charm, obviously,” she replies as we exit the building and head for the parking lot.
Melinda drives us to Cinder’s, a small pub known for its cheap drinks and greasy food. When we walk in, we spot our co-workers at a large table in the back and make our way across the bar.
Cinder’s is your typical dive bar with vintage liquor signs hanging on every wood paneled wall, along with a few featuring scantily clad women from the fifties. There’s a bank of pool tables in the far corner and a large, worn out bar that curves along the one wall. We eat and drink and of course, trade horror stories from the week. Melinda, much to my surprise, manages to convince Coach Rogers to buy everyone a round.
It’s nearly eleven thirty when I finish sipping my second mojito and decide to call it a night just as everyone orde
rs another. I have the bartender call me a cab and head outside. The night has cooled off, so I slip on my jacket before I duck into the car and give the driver my address. Downtown is still very much alive, but I can hardly keep my eyes open. I shake myself out of it just as we pull up to my building. I climb the stairs and go over my list of chores for the next day as I fish for my keys. I can hear the T.V. coming from Sebastian’s place, but nothing wild and crazy.
As I approach my door, my stomach drops when I see that it’s open. Not wide open, but open just enough that my heart begins to pound wildly in my chest. I don’t know if someone is in there, but I don’t want to risk it. I feel a slight comfort in knowing that Sebastian is still awake and take a small step back, the floor creaking beneath my feet. Suddenly my door flies open and a dark figure rams right into me, knocking the wind out of my lungs and causing me to fall backwards. My head smacks into the wall behind me before I fall to the hard floor as the figure scrambles over me and runs down the stairs.
Everything begins to get a bit blurry and when I try to sit up, I sink back down, my head hitting the floor again with a thud. My eyelids feel heavy and just when I think I should yell or make some kind of noise, they shut completely…and everything goes dark.
Chapter 6
Sebastian
I blink my eyes open, thinking I heard a noise in the hallway. The T.V. is still on but it’s quiet enough that I know the infomercial on the screen isn’t what woke me. I rub my eyes and turn it off, stretching as I walk to the door and look out the small peephole. I can’t see anything except a light pink shoe. What the hell?
I open the door, my eyes instantly falling on Anna. She’s sprawled out on the floor, a soft groan escaping her lips. I notice her apartment door is wide open but there’s no sound coming from inside and the lights are still off. I kneel beside her and gently lift her head, noticing a small pool of blood soaking into the carpet. I glance up at the metal case surrounding the thermostat and see a smear of blood just below it.
“Anna? Can you hear me?”
“Mmhmm,” she mumbles.
“Anna, what happened?”
Her eyelids flutter open but quickly close again. “A man, he knocked me dow- I thin.”
“Anna, listen to me, I’m going to close your door and get a towel for your head. I’m still here, okay?”
“Mmmhm.”
I close her door and notice the handle is loose before I duck back inside my apartment and snag the towel hanging on the stove as well as my keys and wallet from the coffee table. I scoop my arms underneath her and lift her easily, holding her snug against my chest. I wedge the towel between her head and my body to hold it in place.
“I’m going to take you to the hospital, okay?”
“Mmmmhm,” she mutters. “I’m glad I did not have you kill…Don’t call Esme.”
“Have me what? Never mind, just hang on freckles. Try to keep your eyes open.”
I make it down the stairs and load Anna into the passenger side of my pickup. The nearest hospital isn’t far, but I speed anyways because she can hardly stay awake and I’m worried she might have a concussion. I park in emergency and carry her in through the sliding glass doors. One look at us and the nurse sitting behind the registration desk waves me over right away.
“What happened?” she asks.
“I’m not entirely sure but I think she may have surprised a burglar,” I tell her. “She was laying on the floor in the hallway, she mumbled something about a man running into her. She hit her head pretty hard, there was blood on the wall and I think she might have a concussion.”
Anna stirs in my arms and blinks open her eyes, looking slightly more alert. She presses gently against my chest and I slide her carefully to her feet while keeping my arm around her for balance. The nurse at the desk taps on her keyboard as another woman in blue scrubs walks up beside us.
“Oh my God, Anna?”
“Elle?”
“Do you know her?” I ask the pretty blonde in the blue scrubs.
“Yes! She’s my sister, what happened?”
I recap the evening for her as she takes Anna’s other arm and leads us down the hallway. We stop at a small exam room and she gets Anna settled on the bed, forcing her to lean back on the reclined hospital bed.
“I’m going to have to call the police,” she says. “Were they gone when you found her?”
“Yeah, her place was empty,” I say.
She pulls on a pair of rubber gloves and parts Anna’s hair on the back of her head. “Shit, Anna you’re going to need stitches. I’ll page the doctor on call.”
“I feel woozy,” Anna says sleepily.
“You probably have a bit of a concussion. I’m going to get Alison to come and sit with you until the doctor comes while I go call the police.”
“I’ll stick around,” I tell Anna. “I’ll be right out there.”
“Okay,” she sighs.
I’m not even sure if she heard me, but I’m not leaving until I know she’s okay. The blonde ushers me into the hallway as the new nurse comes in and takes a seat beside Anna.
“Thank you so much for bringing her in, and don’t take this the wrong way. But who are you exactly?”
“I live across the hall,” I explain as we walk to the waiting room. “I heard a noise in the hallway and when I opened the door, I saw Anna on the floor.”
“Well I imagine the police will want to talk to you as well,” she says. “You can wait in here, I’m going to go make a couple phone calls. I’m Elle, by the way.”
“Sebastian Miller,” I reply.
She nods and heads back to the nurse’s station while I take a seat in the corner of the abandoned waiting room. I don’t know how long I’m staring at the muted T.V hanging on the wall when Elle comes back into the room, this time with a tall brunette. The other sister I presume, and she looks angry.
“Mr. Miller, this is my sister, Dru,” she says.
“Hey, sorry abou-.”
“You! You’re the bastard that’s been terrorizing our sister with your bullshit parties,” she hisses. “Was it one of your friends that did this? I swear to God if you were responsible for this, I’ll-.”
“It wasn’t anyone that I know. And trust me, if it was, I would have dealt with them myself,” I say through clenched teeth.
She continues to glare in my direction, no doubt blaming me.
“I’m going to go check with the doctor and see if we can go in,” Elle says.
When Dru responds, I catch the name Esme and remember Anna muttering something. “Uh, she was pretty out of it on the ride over, but she did mention that she didn’t want me to call Esme. I didn’t know who she was talking about, so I didn’t think to mention it when we arrived.”
Elle agrees not to call whoever Esme is unless things are bad. She leaves the room and an awkward silence settles between me and Anna’s other sister. I doubt I could charm her much now, so I don’t bother.
“You can go if you want. I’m here now and I’m sure you have people to get back to,” she snips.
“Nah, I’m good. I told Anna I’d stay.”
She huffs a breath and turns her gaze to the T.V. Minutes feel like hours in the small space of the waiting room, with nothing but the ticking clock to fill the silence.
“Wait. You’re Sebastian Miller? The potter?”
“Last I checked,” I grin.
“Hm. Well I guess just because you do nice things for children, it doesn’t obligate you to be a decent neighbour,” she says, her eyes narrowed.
It doesn’t surprise me that she’s heard about the charity work I’ve done at the community centre downtown. The indie art world is small enough in our area that I wouldn’t doubt it if we had some shared contacts as well. Too bad she’s intent on busting my balls or we could talk shop instead of her shooting daggers at me. I’m about to reply when Elle comes back in and says we can see Anna now.
I don’t know if she means me, but I automatically get up and fol
low the two women down the hallway and back to the exam room where we left Anna. Two officers are making their way back to the front desk, I assume looking for me. I stop and tell them what I know. They’ll be meeting Anna at home to check things out once she’s discharged. I give them my number and agree to co-operate any way that I can.
The door to the exam room is open slightly and I hang back while Anna fills her sisters in on what happened. When I hear Anna question whether I really brought her in, I open the door.
“Yeah, I did.”
All three women look at me and as Elle gets paged and slips from the room, she squeezes my hand and thanks me. Dru leaves shortly after to go in search of the doctor who should have been here thirty minutes ago. I step toward the bed and stop at the edge as Anna looks up at me.
“How’s your head?”
“Throbby,” she says, with a small laugh. “But I don’t feel as dizzy.”
She fidgets with her hands and looks down, when her gaze meets mine, her blue eyes are filled with tears. “Thank you,” she says quietly. “For, well, just for being there and bring-.”
“Hey, that’s what neighbours are for, right? It’s a good thing you didn’t have me killed otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to help you,” I smirk.
“I mentioned that, didn’t I?”
“You did.”
“My master plan didn’t make it past a post-it note,” she confesses. “I was tired. I get loopy when I’m tired.”
“And apparently violent.”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry I entertained the idea of your demise,” she offers. “I never would have gone through with it.”
“I know.”
She smiles up at me and opens her mouth to speak, interrupted when the doctor finally comes in. He tells her to keep the bandage on for at least twenty-four hours and that she’ll have to come back in two weeks to have her stitches removed. He says that she’s free to go but he recommends she not be alone for the rest of the night.
“I’d like to be cautious and have you woken up every couple of hours just to be safe,” he says.
