INK: Vanishing Point (Book 2)

by Roccaforte, Bella

  Trying to push Trish backward, I move to get up off the floor. She takes a step back into Rex’s vomit, sliding a little. She looks down, then lifts her shoe to examine it. “Fuck me! These are my brand new Jimmy Choos. What the fuck is on the floor?” She slides her shoe off and starts dabbing the suede with a paper towel.

  “Puke,” I answer simply, leaning against the counter with my arms folded across my chest.

  She stops dabbing at her shoe and looks me dead in the eye. “‘Puke?’ Fuckin’ A, Eli, why is there puke on your kitchen floor and what the fuck were you two doing sitting in it?”

  McNab leans against the island trying to contain a laugh. “Hiding from you.”

  She gives us both the finger. “Whatever. You know I really hate you, Eli, right?”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I say with a shit-eating grin.

  She shakes her head in exasperation. “Is Shay here?”

  “No, no one knows where she is,” McNab answers.

  “Well then why the fuck did she text me to come over here?” She puts her shoe back on.

  “When did she text you?” McNab looks at me, puzzled.

  Trish looks at her phone. “About forty minutes ago. It said, ‘Come to Eli’s, life or death! 9-1-1.’” She turns the phone toward McNab and me.

  Rex, barking, darts out from the mud room heading for the door. The doorbell rings, but no one is opening the door. “Jesus, with all the people in this house, not one of them can open the damn door!”

  Shit is all I can think when I open the door to find Detective Glass standing there. “What do you want, Glass?”

  “Miss Baynes asked me to come.” He has a smarmy smile on his face like he’s about to get what he wanted for Christmas.

  “She’s not here.” I begin to close the door. He is on the top of the list of fuckers I don’t want to see today.

  He stops the door from closing. “She asked me to come here.”

  “Really?” I’m dubious.

  “She sent me a text message.” He pulls his phone from his pocket, holding it up.

  “Well she isn’t here, so you’ll have to look for her elsewhere.” I close the door without looking to see if he tried to stop me again. This is strange, but Glass is the last one I need in here snooping around.

  “McNab, something strange is happening.” I walk into the kitchen, and Carl is standing next to McNab with his cell phone in hand. Carl nods.

  “Look, my boyfriend is waiting for me in the car. I thought this was some kind of emergency. If you find her, tell her to call me.” Trish tries to brush by me, and I’m compelled to grab her arm. I’m not sure why I’m suddenly angered by her leaving.

  Leaning down into Trish’s ear I say in a low tone, “Look around Trish; we can’t find her. This is a fucking emergency. A little real concern for Shay and possibly even Kevin whom you’ve known for nearly ten years would be appropriate. Although I’m well aware that you are too much of a selfish bitch to care about anything other than yourself and your Jimmy Choos.”

  Trish stiffens at the mention of Kevin and looks up at me with fire in her gaze. “Well perhaps if you showed a little more concern for Shay than you did a bottle of booze none of this would be happening. But you’d rather walk around with your limp dick in your free hand, crying for Shay day and night, instead of doing something about it.” She pulls her arm out of my grip and walks toward the door. She turns back to me before she exits, nearly expressionless. “Eli, if you’re not careful, bad things can happen to you. I’d watch my mouth if I were you.” With that, she leaves the house.

  “Wow, what a total cunt,” Pitch says from behind me, scaring the shit of out me. He’s a sneaky little bastard.

  “No, that would imply that she has both warmth and depth. She possesses neither,” I say without turning around.

  Chapter 22

  Absentee Cock Block

  Trish

  Billy isn’t in the car; which is weird. I look around and finally see him round the corner from the back of the house. He smiles when he sees me waiting. I want to get the fuck out of here. This is a beautiful clusterfuck with all the damn fire-trucks and cars and vans and shit. This is ridiculous. The only saving grace is that I know this has to be driving that fucking twat-waffle crazy. Fucking Eli.

  “Where you been, babe?” I ask as Billy gets in the car.

  “I was just looking around; this is a really nice neighborhood.” He buckles in. “Let’s boogie, I’ve got plans.” He twitches his brow at me.

  “You got it.” I pull away from the curb, trying to leave the bad feelings in Eli’s house behind. “So what do you have planned?”

  “You’ll see,” he says, looking straight ahead. “So what was with the fire trucks?”

  “I have no idea; it was a madhouse in there.” I reach the gate, not looking forward to making it past all the media people that are still congregated outside. “You would think these assholes would leave Shay alone; she’s been cleared of the murders.”

  “Has she been cleared? Completely?” Billy looks out the window as though not interested in the answer. “I mean I thought it was pretty clear that she did it.”

  “No, it wasn’t clear. She’s a lot of things, and one of them is squeamish. She couldn’t have killed them. That girl couldn’t hurt a fly.” That’s a little fucked that he’s questioning that.

  “Don’t take offense. Anyone that needs that many people protecting them seems pretty guilty,” he says, looking straight at me.

  “Not guilty, just fucking clueless and helpless.” I shake my head and pop a piece of gum in my mouth. “The last text she sent me was a rescue text. It’s like they are holding her hostage in there, so I figured she might need me.” I concentrate on pulling out onto the main road, then continue. “But she wasn’t there.”

  “What? She wasn’t there? Where is she?” He’s taking a weird interest in this.

  “I don’t fucking know; apparently nobody does. And Eli was acting all weird and spacey.” I remember that little shit hiding from me. “He and some guy McNab were actually hiding from me, hunkered down behind the kitchen counter.”

  “McNab?” he asks with a hint of familiarity in his tone.

  “Yeah, do you know him?”

  “Well if it’s the same guy, doesn’t he have some kind of TV show?” He tugs at the little soul patch he’s growing. It’s adorable.

  “Yeah, some kind of paranormal ghosts and ghoulies or some shit.”

  “Why would he be there?” He turns toward me in his seat.

  “Fuck if I know. I just went over there because Shay sent me that text. What’s with the twenty questions? What do you care? You don’t even know her.” I’m getting really irritated with his inquisitive little nature. I prefer it when he isn’t talking.

  Billy puts his hand on my thigh and starts riding it up under my skirt. “Because she’s your best friend, and if you’re worried, I’m worried.”

  “I never really said I was worried. She’s got enough testosterone in there to dope major league baseball for two seasons; I’m not worried.” I hope he gets the sarcasm in my tone. She really doesn’t need my help.

  “I don’t think it’s testosterone that they use,” he says thoughtfully.

  “I don’t give a fuck what they use; you get what I’m saying. She’s got all these men fawning all over her, and she loves it. She thrives on it. She waves her pussy around, not giving it up to anyone, to keep them all on the hook.” I’m not sure exactly why I’m so pissed at her, but I am. I’d like to slap her. “That stupid little bitch causes most of her own problems with her indecision and drama. Fuck her, fuck Eli, and fuck Aiden. I really do hope he’s dead.”

  “Wow, tell me how you really feel,” he says with wide eyes. “I thought Shay was your friend.”

  “She is, my best friend actually. She just pisses me off. Everything is always about her and her man problems.” I spit the words out like they’re moldy bread.

  He doesn�
��t respond. Great, now he probably thinks I’m just a total bitch. Oh well. I pull into my parking spot in front of my apartment. He’s still just sitting there silent. “Come on, let’s go in. You said you ‘had plans’ for me?”

  Billy turns to look straight at me. “Do you really wish Aiden were dead?”

  It’s a little creepy how he asks me that. “Sometimes I do.” I go to get out of the car and he puts his hand on my arm.

  “Would it make you happy?”

  “What are you asking me, Billy? Are you going to kill him for me?” I joke.

  He laughs a bit. “No, of course not, I’m just curious.”

  “Why?” I look from his hand on my arm to him and pull it away.

  “Just seems strange, wanting your best friend’s boyfriend dead.” He gets out of the car and continues talking to me over the roof.

  “There’s a lot of hurt there. The kind of hurt Shay will never recover from. He’s never been good to her. Or me for that matter.” Memories of us when we were younger threaten at the back of my mind.

  He starts for the stairs to my apartment. “What do you mean he’s never been good to you? Did you two have a thing?”

  “No. Fuck no. I hate him. You hear me? I-hate-him.” I answer quickly, with disgust and loathing in my tone.

  His eyes darken. “That was a pretty intense answer. Sounds like there’s more to this story.”

  I squirm a little opening the door. “Look, Aiden and I do have a history, but it’s not what you think. It’s always been about Shay.”

  “Tell me the story,” he asks, closing the door behind him.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “But I do.” His gaze is menacing and puts me on edge.

  “What’s the big deal? Just drop it.” I press my hands on his chest. “Plans?”

  He backs away from me and heads for the door. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

  “What?” What the hell is that about?

  What the fuck just happened? Did that little bitch just cock block me without even knowing him? I kick my heels off, looking at the shoe Eli’s fucking dog defiled with his puke. “God damn it!” I toss the shoe aside and make my way to the couch.

  Trying to figure out what just went down is hurting my brain. If this is over Aiden, I’m ripping that fucker’s balls off if he ever comes back. Hell, I’m ripping his balls off if he comes back anyway. He shot Shay and left her for dead.

  My thoughts continue down a dark path while I lean back and close my eyes. Thoughts of Kevin are looming; if I’m not careful they will totally sneak up on me. I’m not going to cry for that asshole. He left me and totally pulled an Aiden on me. So fuck him, dead or alive. I’m not spineless like Shay, who keeps letting those two douchebags back into her life.

  Chapter 23

  Burning Question

  Shay

  Aiden has fallen completely silent. He’s just wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his head in my neck. I can’t be sure, but he may be crying and just trying to hide it. “Aiden? Are you okay?”

  He still doesn’t say a word but nuzzles himself closer to me. This feels so strange. He’s so vulnerable, and the need to comfort him is so strong I can’t resist. All I want to do is break down and have him hold me, but he can’t. Gathering my strength and trying to think of how to fortify him, I whisper in his ear, “I love you, Aiden.”

  He releases a sob, and his body shakes with grief. I pull him in closer; I know he wouldn’t want me to look at him like this. “Aiden, it’s okay. I’m here. We are together. That’s all I want is to be with you. I don’t care where it is as long as it’s with you.”

  He shakes his head back and forth. “No, baby, no. It can’t be like this. You can’t be here. I don’t think this can work the way it is.”

  I struggle with the urge to look him square in the eye and tell him that it doesn’t matter where we are. “Listen to me.” I take hold of his shoulders and push him back. “We’ll figure this out.”

  His honey-brown eyes are watery and tired. His face shows the wear of many years and trials, yet it’s barely been a month since he’s held me last. I run my fingers through his cropped hair and smile. “We can do anything together. I’ve gotten out of here before, and I’ll do it again.”

  He presses his lips into a thin line, then looks down, avoiding my gaze. “Shay, this is Hell. Nobody gets out of Hell.”

  “It can’t be Hell; we wouldn’t be together if it were.” I guide his eyes up to meet mine.

  He snorts an exaggerated laugh. “That’s contrary to what you’ve said before.”

  I shake my head. “Aiden, you weren’t listening. I’ve told you it’s hell for me when you leave, never when we are together. I love you. I need you.”

  He looks up at me voluntarily this time. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you love me? I’ve been so cruel to you.” He pauses in his lamentations. “You deserve so much better.”

  “Aiden, you are a part of me. When you leave me, I die inside. I used to spend every day, every hour, hoping that it would be the day that you came back. That’s why I could never stay angry with you, because my heart belongs to you.” There’s honesty in my words, hopefully honesty he can feel. There’s also apprehension, because I feel like he’s looking for more from me than I have right now and I don’t want him to see my deception. Aiden needs to believe it if we are going to get out of this; he needs to have faith in our love. That is the key to escape.

  “How can someone like me have the love of a woman like you?” he asks, still defeated.

  “It’s silly questions like that, which will spoil a moment.”

  He puts an arm around me, and we look out over the grim waters in this dark land of desolation and fear. This place can only be described as the proving grounds for nightmares. Lifeless bodies dangle from the trees like haunted wind chimes that make no sound. The shadows mock us, and I dare not focus my eyes on what’s floating in the water. We’ve all but filtered out the sounds of screaming coming from the distance, both knowing that right now we are bathing in hopelessness. But at least we are doing it together.

  My mind is racing for some idea on how to get out of here. There has to be something I can latch on to. I know we are going to need to start walking, that the exit is nowhere to be found on this dock. Aiden’s emotions are running so strong that I can feel the despair ripping through him. If I can’t give him hope, we may not get out; he has to feel my love.

  “Aiden, let’s talk.”

  He looks at me forlorn. “What about?”

  “The future,” I say optimistically as though we have one.

  “The future,” he huffs.

  “The past, the now?”

  He shrugs his shoulders and lays his head in my lap. I’m overcome with a feeling of power and strength in being able to calm him. After a long silence between us, I can’t stop myself from asking the one burning question that’s been in my mind. “Aiden?” It comes out quiet, and my voice breaks.

  “Yes?”

  “Why did you shoot me?”

  Chapter 24

  I Haven’t the Foggiest

  Eli

  Standing stunned at the door in the wake of Trish’s proclamation of violence has me wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean. “Bad things can happen?” That can only be taken one way, and I’m taking it as a threat. Everything is a threat, including that little shit that whacked me with a bar stool.

  “Eli?” McNab calls from behind.

  He’s standing next to Pitch. “Eli, you two got off on the wrong foot. Let’s try this again. This is Pitch, he’s one of my techs. Pitch, this is Eli, Shay’s…” He pauses a little longer than I would like, but then again I guess it really isn’t clear what Shay and I are to each other. “Friend.” There it is, the “F” word.

  “Let’s start over, dude,” Pitch says, offering his hand.

  “Yeah.” I dismiss him and walk back toward the f
og that continues to flow from the hallway. “McNab, what is with the fog?”

  “The fog? We’ll get to that in a minute. I want to talk about what happened to you,” McNab says, sitting on the edge of the couch. “You were in some sort of trance, which is why Pitch hit you with the chair. Can you tell me what was happening right before you got hit?”

  “I don’t know what it was.” If there is any memory of what happened, it’s not readily available.

  “Carl said he was unable to read you,” McNab says.

  “Yeah, well I’m still not really buying into all of this supernatural bullshit. There has to be a reasonable explanation for all of this.” I’m shaking my head and can’t take my eyes off the hallway.

  “That’s fine, Eli, I would welcome someone being able to explain the fact that your guest room is fast becoming a marshland. Shay has disappeared into thin air and there’s a breast implant in my pocket,” McNab challenges.

  Harry comes off the patio carrying a Blood-borne backpack. “This was in the yard.” He looks like he’s aged.

  Carl enters the room. “That’s not Shay’s.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Her backpack is in the bedroom,” he says.

  “So whose is this? And why was it in your back yard?” Harry asks.

  “Unless there’s something in there to identify the owner, there’s no way to tell who it belongs to. There are literally hundreds of those in circulation,” I say not sure if it makes me feel better. I look at McNab and finally process what he said. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘marshland?’”

  “The backpack is secondary. Let’s address the problem in the bedroom.” McNab leads us all to the guest room drawing Harry’s attention away from the backpack.

  We walk through thick fog that smells of the river. “I can’t see shit.” I trip over some cords and wires strewn across the hallway from the other rooms.

  “Sorry, we didn’t want to plug the equipment in there; it could have interfered with our readings,” Pitch says as we walk in. “Quag, are you done calibrating the spectrometer?”