The Danger You Know

by Lily White

  There’s an odd glint behind her eyes, not the sympathy or worry a person would expect with such a morose topic.

  “I wasn’t abducted. I simply left my husband for -“

  “Harrison Nash. I know. He’s a stunning man. A bit sharp around the edges. I assume he’s the demon from your last show.”

  My eyes flick away. “It doesn’t matter. We’ve parted ways.”

  “Have you?” she asks, her voice conspiratorial. “That’s a shame. Men like him are rare. They’re not the easiest to live with, but they’re fierce in their possession of you. It’s a fire unlike any other.”

  She doesn’t know Ari, apparently. He’s too cold. In a way, he’s exactly what I always feared when I was younger and stood still. Like the black void of space swallowing you whole as you float away from Earth.

  “Well, I’m sorry that didn’t work out for you. But it makes me glad I got in touch. I’d like to do another show with your work. Your recent chaos would be amazing to see from a visual standpoint. How about we schedule it for six months from now?”

  It’s not a bad idea. My gaze darts back to her.

  “Are you sure you’d want that? I’m a bit of a pariah in the city currently. The gold digger that played a game on her husband.”

  Her lips curl. “That makes you even more interesting. Let’s set a date, and you can spend the next six months creating the perfect shots. Maybe even use the show to tell your side of the story.”

  Excitement sparks inside me at the thought of taking back my life. My art. My heart and mind. “Let’s do it.”

  After setting a date, I leave the gallery and wander around the city for a little while. People stare and whisper but leave me alone for the most part, keeping their distance as I spend a few hours re-familiarizing myself with the life I had before Grant and Ari.

  It’s dark by the time I return home to an empty house. As usual, Ari is nowhere to be found, but I know that doesn’t mean much. He can be anywhere, hiding in shadow, lurking under my bed, impersonating a hanger in my closet for all I know.

  He’s reverted back to being a person who watches without taking an active role in my waking life, choosing instead to appear in the dead of night and leaving again before the sun rises the next morning.

  I’m getting sick of it. Fucking angry, actually. That fury a scratchy blanket wrapping around the pain I feel in my chest.

  But what else did I expect? That he would become a doting boyfriend? That he would give up his life to become a person that lives his life in the light instead of shadow?

  Absolutely ridiculous, that thought.

  Men don’t change, and I was stupid to think that Ari would be any different.

  Still, the anger is there, frustration, the aggravation of not knowing a damn thing about him except his real name. If that even is his real name.

  How much can I really trust about him? Certainly not that he’ll stick around. He’s done a damn good job of keeping his distance since I’ve returned home, and I can’t help but think he’s engineered this, can’t help but remember that in his own subtle way, he’d warned me this would happen.

  He took what he wanted. Achieved what he’d set out to do, and now that Grant is no more a threat than the character assassination he’s committing against me in the media, there’s no reason for Ari to stick around.

  And given the questions surrounding his false identity, there’s even more of a reason for him to stay away.

  I get angrier just thinking about it, so I try to go through the motions of making something to eat, forcing it down and getting a bath after.

  Wrapped in only a towel as I leave the bathroom, my mind is on the tasks I’ll need to complete to prepare for my next show.

  I have nothing, all my equipment still at Grant’s, which means I’ll need to buy a new camera, a new computer, all the processing software and everything else.

  Dropping my towel in a hamper, I pad barefoot to my dresser to grab a pair of underwear, my feet slipping out from beneath me as my body slams against a wall.

  A wall of heat is at my back, the brush of a man’s shirt against my naked skin. My heart is in my throat as a deep voice whispers, the tip of his nose running along the line of my jaw.

  “Do you think you’re allowed to be out wandering the city?”

  Although my body reacts to Ari’s scent in a way that makes me melt, my anger at him bristles and snaps.

  “It’s better than being home alone all the time,” I argue, my voice tight.

  A soft laugh, the sound dark and without humor. “You should pay better attention to your surroundings, Adeline. How the hell is it possible for me to sneak up on you when you know there’s a man out there who wants you dead?”

  He’s angry, too, apparently, his words razor edged.

  Fuck him. I’m not playing these fucking games anymore. If he wants me to behave, he can do the same.

  Jerking away from him, I’m able to slip free, my gaze snapping to his for only a split second before I storm to my closet to grab a shirt to pull on.

  “He wants to ruin me,” I answer, “but I highly doubt he’s planning on coming here to do anything about it.”

  Ari stands in the center of my bedroom, his arms crossed, his feet at shoulder width. He’s a dark presence in the black clothes he wears, a shadow that can take a fucking hike if he doesn’t start answering my questions. A girl can only take so much heartbreak and indecision before she snaps.

  The tilt to his head is mocking. “Are you certain about that?”

  It only pisses me off more.

  “It’s been two months, Ari. Two fucking months that I’ve been trapped in this place by myself. Meanwhile, you’re free to run about and do whatever the hell it is you do.”

  I’m marching toward him before realizing my body is moving, my rage coming out as I slam my hands against his chest, not that the hit budges him at all. He’s too big. Too strong. But I hit him again for the hell of it.

  “Where have you been? What do you fucking care? Your life hasn’t been screwed up by this. Do you like keeping me trapped like a baby bird in a cage?”

  It hits me then that he does. That he’s always kept me trapped. All Ari does is steal from me without offering anything in return. And it hurts. It fucking hurts to realize it.

  Stepping away, I glare at him.

  “And I still know nothing about you. Not one goddamned thing. So, until you’re ready to fess the fuck up and answer my questions, you can go back to wherever the hell you came from. Leave me the fuck alone, and forget about me. Not that you haven’t been doing that already. I’m not here to be your amusement. And I’m sick of your damn games.”

  I’m a pot boiling over at this point, all the questions and frustrations I’ve been stuffing down over the weeks I’ve been with him finally bubbling to the top. Maybe it took being alone for me to finally look at the full picture. But now that it’s there in front of me, I can’t let it go.

  Silence falls, the seconds ticking by as tension builds between us. Ari’s voice is a bare whisper as he takes a step toward me, but stops.

  “Is that what you think?”

  Tears well in my eyes. “Yes. That’s what I think. You’ve done nothing but screw with my life without permission. And the entire time, you can’t even be bothered with giving something back. Yes, you protected me when I was younger, but if you really gave the first fuck about me, you’d tell me why. Who the hell am I to you, Ari?”

  I’m shouting now, my hands shaking. He only grins to see it. Not the friendly expression I used to get from him, but something harder, sharp like Rebecca called him.

  They’re fierce in their possession of you...

  Her words drift back to me and I scream again.

  “I’m not a fucking possession! You don’t own me, and you never will!”

  He moves quicker than my mind can process, his hand fisting in my hair as he pins me against the wall. Ari’s grey eyes have a lethal edge, his cruel lips pulled int
o a thin line.

  “Ask your question, then,” he says, his tone devoid of anything comforting. It almost sounds like a dare.

  My gaze pins his because I refuse to look away. I won’t let him scare me. Not now. Not after everything.

  “How the fuck do you know me?”

  Here it is. The moment of truth. The last chance he has to either make this right, or tear the illusion apart that I’ve ever mattered to him.

  “I killed your father. I first saw you when you ran to his body. And I’ve been watching you ever since.”

  Ice runs down my spine, my heart lurching with a painful thump at him daring to make a joke of my life.

  “That’s not funny.”

  “I’m not laughing,” he answers, his voice matter of fact. “You wanted the truth, so I’m giving it to you. I’m the man who pulled the trigger when your father died. Are you happier to know that? Does it make you feel closer to me somehow?”

  I’m going to throw up, my entire body shaking now as he continues staring down at me with no guilt for what he claims to have done.

  Leaning down, he levels his stare with mine. “I’ve told you from the beginning that I’m no hero. I’m the villain in your story, Adeline, but you refused to believe me.”

  Pausing, he searches my eyes, his hand gripping my hair tighter when I try to pull away.

  “Do you have any more questions? Or does that satisfy your curiosity?”

  I can’t process this, can’t do anything but fight the bile that crawls up my throat to coat my tongue. My blood is a toxic mix of emotion. Rage, sorrow, fear.

  How dare he lead me on to believe that he gives a damn? How dare he pursue me and touch me like he has any right to my body when he’s the asshole who destroyed me?

  “Get the fuck out of my house, Ari.”

  He doesn’t answer, just stares at me as if my pain doesn’t affect him. His eyes are so cold, they freeze my skin, so utterly absent of concern that my hands clench into fists.

  “Get the fuck out!”

  He lets me go and steps back, but that stare is still on my face, that arrogant fucking grin.

  “I told you not to dig too deep. I warned you, Adeline.”

  “Out!”

  Something flickers behind his gaze, but it’s gone before I can interpret it.

  My father didn’t kill himself.

  Ari killed him.

  This man that I’d given my body to. All my thoughts. My fucking dreams were wrapped around him, and he did this to me.

  Tears burn my eyes as I lunge from the wall to slam my hands against him again, my fists beating against his chest while he just stands there and takes it without moving away or trying to stop me.

  “Get the fuck out!”

  Licking his teeth, Ari inclines his head and turns to leave my room. I follow him all the way to the kitchen doors, staring out as he crosses the yard to the tree line, Lincoln stepping out of the shadows to glance back at me once before stepping up next to Ari to leave.

  And I sink to the ground when they disappear from my view, my body wracked with violent sobs, my shoulders hunching forward as I scream for them to never come back.

  The cool night air blows in to crash against my face, my stomach heaving as the bile climbs faster, my abdomen clenching with the warning that I’m going to puke.

  Pushing to my unsteady feet, I slam the doors closed and run to the bathroom, fall to my knees and vomit, my body heaving as my dinner comes up while tears race down my face.

  He broke me.

  Without concern.

  Without guilt.

  Without anything.

  He’s destroyed my life.

  Made me a game.

  Stole from me when I didn’t know he was there.

  And just like the first night he claimed to have seen me, Ari left me a shattered mess in a house I can’t escape.

  Except this time when he walked away, he took my heart with him, just one last thing he needed to steal before vanishing entirely.

  Adeline

  One Month Post Ari

  I’m not okay. I wish I could tell you that I pulled up my big girl panties and only cried for a day or two before picking myself up and moving on. But that’s not what I’ve done.

  Instead, I’ve festered. Wallowed. Cried, fought and screamed. My sleep is a never-ending nightmare, my waking hours no different. It’s all blending together until I’m an absolute mess that can’t function.

  Poor Little Adeline has become Poor Pathetic Adeline.

  A wasted person, a shell of herself that crawls through her days barely eating, dreading sleep, living behind locked doors and drawn curtains, the sunlight too obnoxious because it reminds me of the world beyond my misery.

  Grant served me with divorce papers, and I haven’t been able to look at them. I haven’t turned on the television to watch his bullshit interviews to see how he’s dragging me through the mud now.

  If I didn’t know better, I would swear Grant and Ari teamed up to ruin me. That this had been their plan all along.

  My heart feels like it’s going to shatter every time I let myself think of Ari. The shadow has a face in my dreams, but I can never reach him.

  He’s out there. Somewhere. Probably hoping to watch me crumble so he can see the results of everything he’s done.

  So, I hide. Refuse to let him look inside my house if he is sneaking around. Refuse to walk outside for fear he’ll be watching.

  The Adeline show is over.

  He took everything from me.

  He stole it all.

  And still, I can’t let him walk through my thoughts without the painful desperation I feel to reach out for him.

  How fucked up is that?

  How fucked up am I for feeling it?

  My eyes close when the tears start again. My hair rips when I bury my hands in it to fist my fingers.

  Two Months Post Ari

  “Who is Harrison Nash?”

  I stare across the desk at an older man with dark hair silvering at the temples. Behind thin, wire-framed glasses, he stares back at me, a shrewdness in his eyes that I assume is necessary given his career.

  Jerome Warner is supposedly one of the best divorce attorneys in town, a man who didn’t blink an eye at the team Grant had hired to represent him. It made me feel better at first. But, the truth is I couldn’t care less what I get out of the divorce. Jerome keeps insisting I go for what’s owed to me, but I’d rather just give it all up and forget I ever knew Grant Cabot.

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly, my voice soft and sheepish. “He played me extremely well. Led me to believe I mattered to him while stealing me away from Grant.”

  “Can you tell me where he took you when you were gone?”

  “No. Does it matter? I only want to sign on the dotted line and be done with this. I want to move on.”

  Jerome leans back in his seat and drops the papers he’s reviewing to the surface of his desk.

  “I know you’re frustrated, Adeline. And this was a short marriage, so it’ll be easy enough to rush the divorce through, but Grant has demanded this information in interrogatories, documents I can’t ignore. Answers are required regardless of whether you want to wipe your hands of this or not.”

  Anger sparks inside me. Quickly blinking my eyes to fight off tears, I cross one leg over the other and try to remain calm.

  “Then give him my answer. I don’t know. Harrison was obviously a fake name. Why does everybody think that I know more than that? I’m not getting anything out of this, so it shouldn’t matter.”

  He eyes me, not believing what I say.

  “You know nothing about the man you spent an entire month with? The same man you had an affair with while living with your husband? I find that hard to believe.”

  I know he killed my father, I don’t say. I know he stalked me for years, toyed with my life and destroyed me in the end. I know that.

  “I know nothing. I was just a game. One I’m sure he enjoy
ed playing until he grew bored with it.”

  Sympathy softens his expression. “I’m sorry to hear you went through that.”

  Me too.

  “Is that all? Are we done?”

  He nods his head and stands from his seat, offering his hand across the desk to shake mine.

  Pushing to my feet, I grasp his palm weakly.

  “Call me when you know we have a final hearing. I’d like to have this finished as soon as possible.”

  “It’ll be a while, but my secretary will be in touch.”

  “Thank you.”

  I leave his office without another word, take the elevator to the bottom floor and cross through the lobby. My heels click against the ground as I push through the revolving door and step out onto the sidewalk.

  Cathedral bells ring, grabbing my attention, the church where I married Grant only a block away. I’m not sure why I walk in its direction, but by the time I reach it, I see a bride and groom running through the front door, the wedding party outside clapping and cheering as they toss birdseed into the air.

  It’s not the wedding that bothers me, though. It’s the building across the street from the cathedral. Turning, I lift a hand to shield my eyes from the sun and stare up at the windows on the top floor, wondering if Ari is staring down.

  Anger possesses me, more questions racing through my head that I’d been too upset to ask the last time I saw him.

  Why did he kill my father? Who ordered the hit? Who else out there is responsible for the shitshow my life has become? He owes me those answers, at least that’s what I tell myself as I march across the street and into his building.

  Elevator banks are on either side of the lobby, one leading to the lower floors, the other a private entrance to the penthouse. I know I can’t access it without a key and a code, so I walk to the front desk, tapping my hand on the counter when the woman behind the desk doesn’t immediately look up at me.

  She lifts her head at the sound, a forced smile on her face. “Can I help you?”

  “I need to speak with the man living in the penthouse. Can you buzz up and tell him he has a guest?”

  Her brows tug together as she stands from her seat.