Quake: #8 The Beat and The Pulse

by Amity Cross

  Then there was Caleb and all the terrible things I’d said to him. Walking away had hurt so much, but… I had no choice. I should never have let my feelings get out of control. If I was completely honest with myself, there was no other way it could’ve ended. The plot points might’ve been different, but there was no happily ever after. If this were a romance novel, the reviews would stink.

  At the thought of Caleb, I buried into my pillow, my heart ripping apart even more. It would be so easy to just go to sleep and ne—

  Knocking at the front door roused me from my hazy thoughts, and I raised my head, listening. The knocking came again, and this time, I slid out of bed, my joints stiff. Tiptoeing out into the lounge room, I listened, wishing I had a peephole so I could see who it was.

  The knocking started again, but this time, someone called out. “Jules?”

  I stilled as I heard a familiar voice on the other side of the door. Was that…Jade?

  Easing open the door, I peered out and saw her standing on the other side, a black handbag slung over her arm, her emerald and black dress making her head full of russet curls shine. When she saw me through the crack, she gasped and slapped her palm against the door.

  “I was so worried about you!” she exclaimed, barging into my unit.

  “Worried? About me?” I croaked, my voice feeling raw after not speaking for a few days.

  “I assumed things had gone south with you and your fighter,” she said, looking around my flat, her nose wrinkling. “That you were pulling a sickie to mend your broken heart or something.”

  “We did…break up,” I said, feeling like I wanted to burst into tears for the millionth time since the other night at Beat.

  “I know…” Jade said, turning back to me. “I thought you might’ve…you know.”

  “Strung myself up?” I asked with a scowl. “Hardly.”

  “Caleb,” she went on. “He’s frantic, the poor guy. He said you broke up with him. I assumed he did the dumping.”

  “Caleb?” I asked, shrinking in on myself. “What does he want?”

  “He’s been trying to call you since Wednesday,” Jade explained, looking around my apartment again. “He said he’s been knocking on your door and sleeping in his car out front hoping to see you.”

  My jaw felt slack as I stared at her, not quite understanding. Caleb had been here? I hadn’t heard anything.

  “Jules…have you had a shower at all in the last week? You look a little…greasy.” Jade picked at my singlet. “And rumpled.”

  “I…” I looked at myself. I looked like I’d rolled in a pile of shit.

  “Go have a shower and let me clean up a little. Do you have food in the fridge?”

  I stared at her, not knowing how to take her kindness.

  She raised her eyebrows before saying, “Never mind. I’ll have a look. You get your ass in the shower, and have a good scrub. I’ll be here when you get out.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be at the office?” I asked, still not understanding why my boss was so invested in my well-being.

  “Pfft,” she said. “I’m the boss, and I’ll take a personal day when I want. God knows I’ve done enough overtime and extra days over the years to warrant at least one. Slattery can handle things without me for twenty-four hours. Fuck ’em!” Grasping my shoulders, she turned me around and aimed me toward the bedroom. “Shower. Now.”

  The warm water helped with easing my tight muscles and making me smell a great deal fresher. When I stepped out and dried off, I returned to my bedroom to find Jade had straightened the covers and tidied the junk off my bedside table.

  Overwhelmed, I dragged on some clean clothes, already starting to feel human again.

  I found her in the little kitchenette attempting to cook a pot of pasta and carbonara sauce on my stovetop. She was making a right mess of it, but it smelled delicious.

  “Don’t get too excited,” she said when she saw me hovering. “It’s one of those packets with the powder inside. I’m not aiming for MasterChef.”

  I almost broke down on the spot. Tears welled, and my throat tightened, guilt spreading faster than I could control it. I didn’t deserve this. Not after all the terrible things I’d done.

  “My name isn’t Juliette,” I said. “It’s Meagan O’Connor.”

  Jade stared at me for a moment, confusion in her eyes.

  “My twin sister was m—”

  “O’Connor!” she blurted, cutting me off. Dropping the spoon in the pot, she turned and picked up a strand of my hair, twisting it around her finger. “Blonde twins,” she added, her gaze downcast. “I’m so sorry.”

  I shrugged, too afraid to speak. A single, traitorous tear escaped my eye and slid down my cheek.

  “Oh, Jules,” she said, pulling me into her arms. “Don’t cry.”

  “I’ve made a mess out of everything,” I sobbed. “I can’t go back.”

  “Yes, you can,” she said, rubbing her palm in soothing circles on my back. “Whatever’s happened, Caleb’s still out there waiting for you. Whatever your past holds, he doesn’t care.”

  “I… I can’t.” She didn’t understand. It wasn’t as simple as going back and picking up the pieces. His father was waiting in the wings, ready to tell the world the truth about Mel. He would destroy my family’s and my life. They still suffered, and the media getting hold of the part I played that night would destroy them completely.

  Jade turned back to the pot and took it off the heat, tipping the contents into a bowl she’d found in the cupboard.

  “You have to do something,” she said, sticking a fork into the carbonara and sliding the bowl down the bench toward me. “That man is frantic.”

  I stared at the steam rising from the pasta, not knowing how to pull myself out of the deep depression I’d sunk into.

  “He asked me to give this to you,” Jade said, foraging in her purse and handing me a white envelope.

  “A letter?”

  Jade nodded and sighed dramatically. “Fucking romantic.”

  I stared at it, my hand shaking.

  “Whatever happened to break you two up, he doesn’t seem to care about it,” she went on. “He called me, Jules. Well, he called you at work, and I answered. I gave him an earful, then he tells me you broke up with him!”

  “He what?” I stared at her with wide eyes. He couldn’t know the whole truth, then. If he did, then none of this would be happening.

  “He called me, frantic and argumentative, afraid you’d done something to hurt yourself. Pleaded with me to find you and make sure you were okay.”

  “He did?”

  “He cares about you. Honestly, I saw love in that man’s eyes.” Nodding at the envelope, she said, “Whatever’s in that letter, it seems really important.”

  Suddenly, I felt really tired even though I’d spent the last few days in bed.

  “Here,” she said, nudging the bowl of pasta. “This should be cool enough to eat by now. You curl up on the couch, get that into you, and read the letter.” She ushered me toward the couch, the bowl in her free hand. “Now, do you want me to stay? I can if you like.”

  I shook my head as I sank down and cradled the bowl in my lap. “No. I’m fine, really.”

  “Are you sure? Because I don’t want to leave you alone if you’re not feeling well.”

  “I think…” I began, trying to make sense of my feelings. “I think I need to do the next bit alone.”

  Jade smiled, her gaze falling to the letter. “Okay. You have my number if you need anything. Anything at all, you hear?”

  “What about work?”

  “You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had, and you’ve only been around for like three months or whatever.” She waved her hand at me and opened the front door. “Come back on Monday.”

  “Are you going to tell Caleb?” I asked. “About…” I gestured to the state of my flat, which was a great deal cleaner after Jade had her way with it.

  “I’m going to tell him you’re
okay. Mum’s the word about the other stuff.”

  She winked, flashing a bright smile, then she was gone.

  Caleb’s letter ripped me apart…then put me back together.

  That afternoon, I sat curled up on the couch, the bowl of pasta Jade cooked in my lap, and I cried my eyes out. At that point, I thought I was already dried up, but it seemed like I had more in reserve.

  You were faced with a terrible choice, and you did what you thought was right. You honored your sister’s wishes.

  He knew everything, and still, he wanted to be with me, but… There was always a but. In this case, it was his father’s threats. If word of it got out, then it still would’ve been for nothing. My mum and dad were on tenterhooks as it was, so nothing had changed…unless Caleb had a plan to thwart the blackmailing.

  I read over the last paragraph of his letter, his unusually neat handwriting searing into my brain. He wrote in all caps—even making the usual capital letters larger than the little letters—and it was strange yet completely like him.

  I know what you’re facing, but you don’t have to do it alone. You don’t have to submit to my father’s assholery. Come to Beat tonight (Wednesday), and we can talk it over. We can face this together, but we have to put us back together first. I want to help you. I always have. Knowing the sacrifice you made for your sister hasn’t changed that. Please come. I’ll be waiting. Love Caleb.

  I stared at the last line, hardly daring to believe he really wanted what he was saying. Love Caleb.

  Setting the bowl aside, I curled up on the couch, my cheek pressing against the armrest. I was desperate to believe in something other than darkness, so that was how I knew I was going even though every fiber of my being was screaming at me to run in the other direction. Those were ingrained responses, fail-safes my subconscious had hard-coded into my being. It wasn’t me doing the running, it was my fear.

  All this time, I’d been working up to this moment, the ultimate showdown with my past. This was it. If I ran from it now, there was no going back. I would be a shell, crippled by fear and depression forever.

  I couldn’t erase the fact that I was in love with Caleb. So…I went to Beat.

  I wasn’t afraid of the darkened streets anymore. Either that or I was so wrapped up in my own agony I didn’t notice.

  The closer I got to the studio, the more uncertain I became. What if this was a cruel joke? What if he wanted to help, but he didn’t love me? What if this was his way of letting me down gently? Or was it just an elaborate ruse to make sure I wasn’t going to harm myself so he would be able to rest easy?

  I was making myself sick with anxiety.

  I didn’t even glance into the alley where I’d stumbled across that crime scene…how long ago was it? About three months since the night I realized my problems would follow me everywhere I went, no matter how far I fled or what color I dyed my hair. I saw the sheet lying over that woman, and it’d started this whole thing. A chain reaction that was either about to blow up in my face or save me.

  I crossed over the darkened alley, my gaze set on the street ahead. No one was around. This part of Sydney Road was quieter than the lower half that sat closer to the city. There were bars, restaurants, and even a little shopping center down there. Here, there was nothing but closed storefronts.

  Before I understood what was happening, an arm wrapped around my waist from behind. I cried out in surprise as I was pulled backward. Twisting to the side, I broke free and started to run, but I was grabbed before I could get five steps. This time, my assailant dragged me into the darkness of the alley, his hold too strong to break.

  I was thrown against the side of the building, the air pushing from my lungs. My head cracked against the brick wall behind me, and instinctively, I began to struggle. A man wearing a black balaclava was before me, his body pinning me in place, his hand over my mouth.

  “Shh, sweetheart,” he crooned.

  Crying out in panic, I tried to thrash against his hold. When I couldn’t move, I tried to knee him in the balls, but I flopped uselessly. I was caught. I racked my brains for a move Caleb had taught me, anything to get out of there, but everything was jumbled. I couldn’t remember.

  The man smiled, his lips looking weird behind his mask. I could only see his eyes and mouth, the rest of him was covered, but it didn’t make things any easier to take. He was still going to hurt me.

  “I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw you. Black hair and all…” He pressed against me, and I felt his hard crotch rub against my hip.

  My eyes widened as I realized that it was him. It had to be. I struggled, but it only seemed to excite him more.

  “You took the kill from me,” he snarled. “Bitch. You stole from me.”

  “No!” I cried, my voice muffled by his hand.

  The man who’d killed Melanie held me in his grasp, and he was going to get his revenge. Blind terror flared, blurring my vision.

  “I’ve been waiting for you, Meagan. For six long years, I’ve been waiting for a chance to take you.” He lifted his balaclava just enough to free his mouth, then he laved his tongue up my cheek, tasting my skin. “You won’t be able to do a thing about it this time. I’m going to do the same thing to you as I did to your sister. I’m going to cut you into little pieces…while you watch. You will feel every cut, sweetheart. You will watch me peel your skin from your body…just like Melanie did.”

  A surge of adrenaline, mixed with a heavy dose of fear, pulsed through my body, and I opened my mouth wide, shaking my head back and forth against his hand. His grip slipped, and I bit down hard, closing my teeth around his index finger.

  He roared in pain, and I tasted blood. The unfamiliar tang caused me to panic, and I loosened my hold. The man dropped me, and I landed on my knees, the impact jarring up my legs. Scrambling, I tried to run, but he was on me in a second.

  Pulling me up by the hair, he twisted, my scalp burning, and I shrieked, making as much noise as I possibly could. That was what Caleb had taught me. If you can’t get away, make life difficult for your assailant. Stay calm, read the situation, look for holes to exploit, and don’t hesitate.

  “Shut the fuck up!” he snarled, turning me around and caging my front against his chest.

  This time, he held a knife in his free hand, and he pressed it against my skin…right underneath my eye. Trembling, I started to sob, fear overwhelming the last shred of fight I had in me.

  The man was staring at me, his eyes clear in the muted light from the street beyond. His balaclava had slipped, but I could still make out some of his features… His irises. They were the color of chocolate. His shoulders were wide, his torso defined with muscles, his arms… Understanding slammed into me, and my knees buckled.

  I knew him.

  28

  Caleb

  I sat inside Beat, watching the door like a hawk.

  Juliette had to come. She had to.

  Glancing at the time on my phone, it read eight p.m.‬ If she was coming, she would’ve been here by now. Our usual time had always been six, but I sat there for two hours, hoping and praying she would come. ‬‬‬‬

  She’d answered her door for Jade, as I’d hoped, and the letter I’d painstakingly written was in her hands. There was nothing I could do now except wait.

  Standing, I began to pace, my stomach churning. Shit, after everything she’d been through, this was probably the hardest step she would have to take. Facing her past, placing her trust in me, allowing herself to love…facing my father’s threats. She most likely blamed herself for everything that happened to her sister.

  It wasn’t her fault. It was the bastard who’d broken into their home and attacked her. He was the one who’d done this to her. The bastard the police still hadn’t managed to catch. How many other women had he murdered since? It made my blood boil.

  Striding across the studio, I pushed out onto the street and glanced toward Sydney Road, but no one was around. Acting like a desperate fool, I let the door close,
the deadbolt catching behind me, and I walked down to the crossroads.

  Apart from a car driving past, there was no movement. It was oddly quiet for a Wednesday night‬, but I remembered the road was blocked further down for the annual Sydney Road Street Party. It was a long weekend, the public holiday falling on a Friday this year. We’d gotten a flyer about the road closures and diverted tram services from the council. Stuck it on the noticeboard at Beat myself. ‬‬‬‬

  Gritting my teeth, I decided to call Juliette. If she didn’t answer… Maybe she didn’t want to come. Maybe she was telling the truth the other night. Maybe she didn’t want to be with me.

  As a scream ripped through the air, my head snapped up, and my phone was forgotten. A female scream. An image of Juliette flashed in my mind, and without a second thought, I bolted toward the sound, shoving my phone into my pocket.

  My feet pounded on the footpath as I searched for the woman. Checking every alley, I found nothing, my hopes beginning to fade. Even if it wasn’t her, I still had to do something.

  That’s when I rounded another corner, heading into what I knew was a blind alley, and saw them. My gaze collided with the two figures, and I froze, instantly recognizing the woman being held at the mercy of a much larger man.

  Juliette.

  She was pinned against the chest of a guy twice her size, a knife pressed against her cheek. Anger welled inside me, and I almost exploded, a desperate need to protect her surging to the surface.

  “Caleb!” she screamed, her gaze meeting mine. “It’s him. It’s—”

  The man turned as she cried out, and the moment he saw me, he brandished the knife.

  “Get the fuck away from her,” I snarled. Instinct took over, and I raised my fists into a fighting position.

  At that moment, I swore his lip curled into a smile, but I didn’t have time to focus. He thrust, sinking the blade into Juliette’s stomach.