by Rebel Farris
Me: We’re at the club. I’m thinking… Maybe we should just show him?
Nic: Don’t think that would go over well. But whatever you want. It’s your ball game.
I snort a laugh as I type. Dex looks at me with pinched brows and a small smile, before turning away and wandering into the club.
Me: Yeah. I’m not sure I’ve the words to explain it. I never thought I’d ever have to.
Nic: You know I’m happy to help you. And if it doesn’t work out, that’s OK.
Me: I don’t know. Chances are, he won’t be on board.
Nic: Don’t do that. You won’t know until you try. *Diana Ross voice* You will survive.
Me: LOL, you’re a dork, but I <3 you.
I glance at the time at the top of the screen and gasp.
Me: Umm… maybe tomorrow, Lucky. We gotta get the girls soon.
Nic: KK Let me know
I’m just about to stuff my phone back in my purse when it dings again. This time, it’s a four-word text from Dawn.
Dawn: I’m ready for you.
Me: Be right there.
I walk into the club, searching for Dex. The red walls are lined with alcoves filled with black booths and benches, framed with black curtains that can be drawn for privacy. Cages hang from the ceiling for dancers and adventurous patrons. Catwalks frame the room from above and lead to glass-floored rooms. It all seems fairly benign when empty like this.
I spot Dex chatting with a bartender, Seth. They laugh. Seth stocks the shelves with liquor, prepping for the night’s business. Dex’s back is to me as I approach, but Seth freezes when he sees me, and his eyebrows climb up.
“He’s with you?” Seth asks.
Dex turns around and his eyes light up for me.
“I really wish people would stop acting so surprised about that,” I say.
The corner of Dex’s mouth twitches. “I don’t know. I kind of like it.”
“Of course you would.” I laugh silently. “What’re you two up to?”
“Oh,” Seth says. “He was asking about what it costs to be a member here.”
I nod. I know the answer. There’s no set price. Membership is built on monthly donations based on what the member can afford to pay, and all donations are kept private. Nic didn’t want to create a world where only the rich elite were allowed to participate, so he relied on some rather extreme vetting with interviews and background checks. The whole process is rather invasive, but worth it if this kind of place can help the applicant. We have members that range from college students and schoolteachers to celebrities and politicians.
“I take it you filled him in?” I ask, and Seth nods. I turn to Dex. “Dawn’s ready for us. We should head upstairs.”
Dex pulls me to his side and kisses my forehead. “Thanks, man,” he says to Seth, reaching out and shaking his hand.
“No problem, bud. It was nice to meet you.”
“Same here,” Dex replies as he starts toward the door.
We retreat to the elevator. Since there are only a few floors between the offices and the club, it’s only a few minutes before we find ourselves standing in Dawn’s office again.
“You should sit,” she says.
I frown and sit in the chair across from her desk. Dex sits too.
“It’s not the same person,” Dawn says. “The video you gave me wasn’t encrypted very well. It took me less than a minute to break it. I was able to find the mobile IP address from its creation, but since they’re assigned randomly and change frequently, it doesn’t really help. It tells me that the person who made this is in Austin, but that’s obvious because they had to be near you to take the video. That’s not to say the person isn’t somewhat skilled. They did wipe any other identification from the video, but the fact that they missed this makes me think they’re not as thorough.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” I mutter.
“On the other hand, the hack into WitSec was done by someone with some impressive skills. Aside from the obvious, that they could get inside in the first place…” Dawn laughs. “I followed the digital trail, if you will, and it was forwarded through so many foreign servers that I thought I wasn’t going to find anything. But you have to look at this.” She waved us over to her computer.
Her screen is filled with zeroes and ones, which are moving in some sort of pattern. Dex is chewing on his lower lip with a furrowed brow, but I don’t see any signs that he understands what we’re looking for.
“You’re gonna have to help me out here,” I say. “What is this?”
“Unfocus your eyes,” Dawn instructs.
I cross my eyes and then try to stare through the computer. I start growing impatient. It’s like one of those annoying magic-eye pictures at the mall. I finally see it, and my stomach drops. My hand flies up to my mouth as I back away. Dex glances at me but turns back to the computer with a determined look.
“It’s him,” I say as I drop back into my seat. My head feels like I just did a stint on the Tilt-A-Whirl.
“It can’t be.” Dawn turns back to me. “People like me… we don’t dumb ourselves down. It’s an ego thing. The guy that made this bread crumb did not make that video. I can promise you that. But it’s not outside of the realm of possibility that your creeper hired someone to get that information.”
“But…” I dig my phone out of my purse. “Here. Look at this.”
I open the photo app to the picture of the scene from my dining room earlier today and hand it to her.
“Oh,” Dawn says and swallows heavily. She looks back at the hummingbird flapping its wings in binary code on her computer and then to me. “Well, it’s shaping up to be a signature. But what’s the deal with hummingbirds? I thought your guy’s thing was your favorite flower?”
“It is. It was. I mean—he changed the background screen on my laptop to a calla lily when he left that video, and that was just this morning.”
It was just this morning, but I already feel like I’d lived through months over the last few hours. I rub my forehead in frustration. I’m exhausted, too.
“I noticed,” Dawn mutters.
A frown mars her features as she studies the picture on my phone. Dex sits on the edge of her desk.
“The only thing left to figure out is, why are there seven birds?” Dex asks. “I think Dawn’s right.”
Dawn holds up her fist, and his shoulders jump in a silent laugh. He bumps her fist before he continues.
“I don’t think these are the same person. And maybe this”—he points to my phone—“was a message for Chloe, not you. But with her being in custody, whoever is after her thought you were the best conduit to get to her.”
“Fucking great,” I sighed. “I can’t deal with this. Like I needed another person breaking into my house.”
Then
It had been a long day at the studio, then roller derby practice. We had put the final cuts for the music on our album after weeks of adjustments. The process was way more complicated than I thought it was going to be, but I was thrilled to have gone through the experience. Nate had assigned me to work with him on our new clients, instead of just coffee and filing, and that was thrilling, too.
Officer Martinez said they hadn’t been able to lift any fingerprints from the evidence he picked up, but the good news was with that added to my case file, they were more likely to begin an investigation. I hadn’t heard anything back, though, and that was troubling. I was choosing to push it to the back of my mind because everything else was moving in the right direction.
The house was dark when I walked in. “Hello?” I called, my voice almost echoing in the empty dark space.
The hair on my arms stood on end. Where are Jared and the girls? I walked back to the kitchen to set my purse on the counter and grab a Coke. Jared was sitting at the dining room table in the dark, motionless. I frowned.
“What’re you doing? Where are the girls?” My voice seemed hollow
in the stillness surrounding us.
“I took off from work early today, drove the girls out to my parents’ place,” Jared replied. “We need some alone time.”
“Can’t argue with that,” I said, sitting in the chair next to him, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling I had. “That doesn’t explain why you’re sitting here in the dark.”
“We need to talk,” he sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face and leaning his elbows on the table. My whole body went on high alert. “I got called today. My unit’s being deployed to Afghanistan.”
“What?” I jumped from my chair, the urge to pace taking over my body. “How is that possible? You’re out of the Army.”
“I’m not out of the Army.” He grasped my arm, halting my movement. “My contract was for six years’ active duty and two years of reserves. I still have nine months of reserve duty. It’s why I report to Camp Mabry once a month.”
“I thought that was some veterans’ thing.” I rubbed my forehead with my free hand. “How long?”
“Nine months.” His voice was void of emotion, and no further explanation came.
My mind was overwhelmed with thoughts, but I chose to focus on the least painful thing to quell my panic.
“This is horrible timing. We’re done with the edits. The album releases next Tuesday. Not that I expect any sales. We haven’t played any gigs. I was hoping to talk to you about setting up a show. Ruby wants us to play our first gig at her bar.”
“I know,” he said solemnly, looking out the window. “I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about you. You have a stalker, Maddie. This means I’m leaving you and the girls here alone.”
That was the last thing I wanted to think about at that moment.
“I know,” I echoed, crawling into his lap. “I’m trying not to think about that because it honestly doesn’t do any good. We can’t live our lives in fear of this creep.”
He kissed my forehead and hugged me closer. “I don’t like it.”
“We don’t have a choice. Do we?” My voice sounded timid and small. I hated the weakness it exposed.
He huffed out a breath, pushing my hair away from my face. “You could go stay with my parents?” His thumb brushed over my cheek.
“No. I can’t,” I argued, shaking my head. His hand fell away. “I’ve my job, the derby, the girls have school. We can’t just up and leave everything behind.”
“I had to try.” He gave me a sad smile. “I talked to Nic about moving in. He agreed. He can stay in my old room upstairs, or out in the guest house. Your choice. You okay with that?”
“Yeah, that sounds great, actually.” I picked imaginary lint from his shirt. “I don’t want to be here alone.”
“Good,” he sighed, hugging me tighter.
“He can choose where he wants to stay,” I muttered, snuggling closer. “I don’t care either way.”
“I’ll let him know.” Some of the tension left his body. “He’ll be here on Sunday.”
“So soon?” I asked. “When are you leaving?”
“I have to report to Camp Mabry on Monday.”
“Oh,” I replied for lack of anything better to say.
A tear tracked down my cheek, and he brushed it away.
“Don’t cry. I can’t handle it right now. Just try to look at it this way: it means we have two whole days to ourselves before I leave.” He shifted me, so I was straddling his lap. “I spent the whole day with the girls. My parents are driving them back on Sunday evening. Forty-eight hours of me and you.”
He kissed my collarbone and trailed kisses out to my shoulder, tugging my shirt aside.
“Whatever will we do with all that time,” I said on a sigh, trying to let go of my worry and fear.
“I’ve got some ideas.” His voice dropped low, making my belly clench.
I smirked. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah, I’m about to get creative.” He waggled his eyebrows, a grin tugging one side of his full lips upward.
“Are you?” I laughed, then froze when his eyes pinned me in place with a heated look. “I love you,” I whispered.
“I’m about to show you how much I love you right now,” he said, pulling my shirt over my head.
Now
We’re walking in the back door, after picking up the girls, when it hits me like a ton of bricks. Today has been the longest day of my existence. We ate dinner with the kids at the Mad House, so it’s nearly ten when we finally make it home. I feel ragged to the bone and dead tired. My shoulders slump and my eyelids grow heavy as a yawn forces its way out of me.
The smell of wet paint permeates the air, though Bridget and her workers cleared out of here over an hour ago. Passing all the paparazzi outside the gate when we got home, it dawned on me that it has been less than twenty-four hours since the media was stirred up by that video and the more graphic version showed up on my laptop. I woke up this morning not trusting Dex and finished the day introducing him to the world that encompasses my deepest darkest secrets. And Chloe and Evan are gone.
It’s only been a handful of hours, but it feels like it’s been years. I wish I could sit down with Evan and just talk to him, which is funny, I know. Normally he’d have to pry it out of me, but now that he’s not here, I just want to tell him everything that has happened.
I press my hands on the counter, gripping it tight so the squared bottom edge bites into my skin. I can hear the girls talking about their day, but none of it’s registering.
“Ugh, what is that smell?” Cat asks, walking past me to the entrance of the dining area.
Cora and Audra follow in her wake, but they all freeze at the doorway. I’ve a momentary panic attack, thinking that the vandalism is still there. I eat up the distance in a few short strides.
“Holy shit, that is awesome!” Audra exclaims.
“Whoa, when did you decide to redecorate?” Cora asks.
I stare at my newly painted dining room in shock and maybe a little awe. Leave it to Bridget to take creative license with my house. I take in the freshly painted wall covered in bright graffiti art. There are guitars, skates, music notes… It’s all very… me.
My shoulders heave in silent laughter. I’m rendered wordless, unable to articulate a reaction. My brain’s just too tired to process any thought or feeling I might have about it. Dex massages my shoulders as another yawn cracks my jaw.
He leans down to my ear. “You should go to bed. I’ll get the girls down for the night and join you in a few minutes.”
I stiffen at that but then force myself to relax. He didn’t say anything inappropriate. It’s just a force of habit to keep that part of my life away from the girls. I know they heard it by the look of shock on their faces as they turn to me. I nod and turn to Dex, going up on my toes to kiss his cheek.
“Thank you,” I murmur. “I’m beat.”
I turn to the girls and hug each one, including Audra, kissing them on the cheek and telling them good night. I hear Dex telling them that we decided the dining room needed a change this afternoon as he ushers them up the stairs. I head to my room. I strip off my clothes while brushing my teeth. I’m too tired to be bothered with anything else.
My eyes close as soon as my head hits the pillow.
The loud screeching alarm rings in my ear long after it stops. I wander through the dark hallway, guided by the thin, pale strips of moonlight that fall across the floor through the windows of various rooms that line the hall. I hear a grunt and look up. He’s standing there, highlighted by the moonlight, blood soaking his shirt from the shoulders down. His lifeless eyes pin me into place.
“You,” he grates in a hoarse, raspy whisper that seems too loud in the quiet between us. “You did this to me.”
Tears streak down my face. “I’m sorry,” I plead.
“That’s not good enough. You have to pay,” he says as he moves toward me without taking a step. The moonlight follows him, so I see his face as it distorts
into an angry mask. His hands wrap around my throat. I can’t breathe. I claw at his hands, trying to scream, but the pressure on my throat is enough to keep my silence.
I sit up, gasping for breath and choking. I cough loudly, nearly gagging myself. Dex’s hand rubs over my back, soothing.
“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he coos.
A sob racks my body. “It’s never gonna be enough. I can’t ever make it right.”
“Come here,” he says, tugging me down and tucking me into his side.
My head rests on his shoulder as he pushes my hair back from my face with one hand while the other one traces a line from my shoulder down to my wrist and back up again.
“We can’t ever make it right, but we can make better choices going forward,” Dex says in a soothing voice. “Try to be the best version of ourselves and make it better. The past can never be rewritten, but we can learn from it and move forward.”
“How?” I ask.
“You’re already doing it. It floors me how you can’t see the mark you leave on everything around you. So many people love you because you give so much of yourself to make them happy. You’ve made it my mission in life to make you see that and make you happy.”
I spread my hand out on his bare chest and listen to the steady rhythm of his heart. “You only say that because you don’t know what you don’t know.”
“You could tell me, but I’m gonna be honest with you.” His chest rises under my hand with a deep breath. “I think you take on too much responsibility with this. Sometimes, murders happen, and it’s no one’s fault but the one who committed the homicide.”
I laugh darkly. “I almost forgot that you’re a cop for a minute there.”
“What does that mean?” he asks.
“You know that whole murder bit’s bullshit? He wasn’t murdered. I tried telling them that, but no one wants to believe me.” I sit up, shaking my head. “No, they just want to make money off it. The news gets ratings, the police get a major case, paid interviews are offered… It was all for spectacle, and it still is. He killed himself because of what I did. It’s really quite simple. And either way you look at it, he wouldn’t have been there if it weren’t for me.”