by Daisy Allen
She doesn’t look at me while she’s talking, leaning back against my chest.
And I’m glad for that. Because it lets me take in every word without having to worry about her watching my expression. I imagine it would tell her more than I’m willing to let her know.
“Oh. Well, thanks accepted. And... it was all my pleasure,” I say, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.
“My turn!” She rubs her hands together and there’s something evilly maniacal about it. “Why didn’t you want me to find you?”
“Was that always going to be your question?” I ask her.
“Is that your second question?” she quips.
“No!”
“Then I’m not answering it until you answer mine,” she says haughtily.
I take a breath. “I didn’t want the real me to ruin the fantasy you had of me in your head.”
“You idiot,” she whispers, and my heart warms. “Am I allowed a bonus follow up question?”
“Let me hear it first,” I concede.
“What did you think my fantasy of you was like?”
I shrug. I hadn’t really thought of it in specific detail, just that I knew I wasn’t it. “I thought you’d want me, or imagined me, to be tall and handsome and rugged and sexy and brave.”
“So... the reality and the fantasy are one.”
I don’t have an answer that doesn’t sound self-deprecating, which would ruin the sharing mood. So, I don’t say anything.
“Silly, silly man,” she whispers and turn around, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. I touch my cheek where she kisses me and give her wink. “Okay, next question for me!” she prompts me excitedly.
“Okay, let me see. If you could sit down with anyone, alive or dead, who would it be, and what’s the first question you’d ask them?”
Her body stiffens and she sits up, back straight, facing away from me. Running her hands through her hair, she pulls it to one side, to rest over her left shoulder. Her hands fall into her lap and she stares out into the night for a moment.
“I’d like to, I’d like to have one last meal with my mother. And I’d ask her if there’s anything she sees in me that reminds her of herself. My mother, she was, she was so beautiful. So graceful. Soft spoken, sweet. But I was too young to understand the deeper things like, how she saw the world, what she valued, what her dreams were. I just wonder... if any of it lives on in me.”
“I really wish I could give you that.”
“You can’t.”
“No. But I can tell you that if you did sit down with her, she’d tell you she’s proud of the person you are.”
“You don’t even know me,” she says. She’s right, but I know enough.
“I know you snort when you crylaugh,” I tease her.
“VETO!” she yells and throws an empty food container at me.
I swat it away. “And your last question?”
“Where did you get the scar?” she asks without hesitation.
And I answer the same way. “In a fire.”
She nods and says no more. I don’t know if I’m relieved or not.
“Okay, my last question – what’s your favorite ice cream flavor?” I ask her as if it’s the most important question in the world. She giggles, her whole body shaking, and I wrap my arms around her, wanting to be part of the constant joy she exudes, something I haven’t felt myself in so long. “What? You can tell a lot about a person from their favorite ice cream flavor!”
“Well, I don’t like ice cream,” she says and turns and looks at me just as my face expresses my horror.
“You don’t like ice cream?”
“No,” she shrugs, then her face breaks out into a grin “I FREAKING LOVE IT! I would eat ice cream for every meal of every day if I could.”
I clutch at my chest. “Oh, thank God. I thought I was going to have to leave you stranded here. I can’t be seen with someone who doesn’t like ice cream.”
“Vanilla,” she finally answers.
“So plain?”
“Because it’s plain. It’s a blank canvas; a delicious, sweet, fragrant canvas, you can add anything to it, it’s so versatile and forgiving.”
“Well, that’s good, because... it’s my favorite too.”
I reach over into the basket and pull out a small tub of vanilla ice cream and two spoons.
“You really did think of everything!” she exclaims, reaching for the tub. “So, I have a deal, I have one last question, and we’ll both answer it.”
I nod and hand her a spoonful of ice cream.
“What is... the biggest dream you have for your life?” she asks.
I suck the ice cream off my own spoon, taking a moment before answering.
“That.” I point across the river to my building, the ASH logo illuminated, bright against the night sky.
“That’s your building? That’s what your biggest dream is?”
“No, well, yes. In a way. Not just the building itself, but what my company and my team are trying to achieve.”
“And what is that?”
“Zero deaths from house fires by 2025.”
She lets out a slow long whistle. “You don’t think small, do you?
“Well, I dream big, whether it’s achievable or not... well, no. Scrap that. I will achieve it. Can I show you something?”
“I’d be honored to see it.”
I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and open a video. It’s a video of the FireFree prototype. I hand it to her and she watches it, her eyes fixed on the screen.
“It’s a product I’ve been working on for the last five years. It’s the most innovative and intuitive smoke detector the world has ever seen. Developed to detect the smallest trace of smoke, determine what kind of smoke it is, and discern different levels of danger. It’s runs on a 20-year lithium battery, so there are no 6 monthly battery changes, one of the biggest causes of undetected fires in homes that claim they have smoke detectors. On top of that, one of the biggest complaints was that smoke detectors are ugly, an eyesore. So, we’ve collaborated with DuPont, and customers can order the detector in any of their 25 most popular complementary colors and there’s a choice of four designs. But it’s the future we’re looking at. The aim is for all new houses to be fitted with them, and we’ve created a line where they can be built directly into the ceilings of new homes, hooked directly to the electrical system and never even be seen. So, there will be...”
“...no excuse for a house not to have a smoke detector ever again,” she finishes. I nod. She gets it, of course she does.
“We’re also working with a number of New York’s biggest construction companies right now on a community campaign. For every smoke detector they order from us for their new properties, we will donate one to low income housing areas in the city. No fire related deaths for everyone. Not just those who can afford it.” I take a deep breath. I can’t remember the last time I talked for so long without stopping.
“Kaine.”
“That’s my dream, Jade. You asked. I’ve... I’ve never really verbalized it like that before.”
“It’s... it’s monumental. Good luck with it all.” She hands me back my phone.
“And yours?”
“It’s nothing like that, I’m afraid. Maybe I’m... I’m too small a person, too small a dreamer. It’s not a building I can point to or a world changing product I can show you. I guess, I guess it’s just more of a feeling. I hope that when I’m gone, when people think of me, they’ll smile. I hope I’ll leave the world as a happy thought in someone’s mind.”
“Now it’s my turn to say it.”
“What’s that?
“That you’re silly. You CAN point to it. Here, I’ll show you.” I raise my finger and jab her gently in the chest.
“My tit? Thanks,” she pokes her tongue out at me.
“No, your heart. It’s bigger than that building of mine over there. It exudes joy. And the effect of that is infinite.”
Her eyes l
ook up to meet mine, and something inside me tugs. She reaches up and takes the finger pointing at her chest and pulls it in closer, so my entire palm is pressed against her breasts. She takes a breath, and my hand presses harder against her as her chest rises and falls.
“Kaine.” She exhales my name. And it reverberates in my ears. God, I love her voice.
“Kiss me, Kaine,” she says this time. And I’ve never been more inclined to obey.
I press her down onto the blanket with my hand on her chest and move my body so I’m hovering over her.
“Say it again,” I tell her.
“Kiss me, Kaine.” She complies and I do. Dropping my mouth down to meet hers, I’m surprised by her immediate response. She presses her lips against mine, hard, her mouth prying mine open so she can slip her tongue past my lips. Her hands come up, grabbing fistsful of my hair as she almost devours my mouth. Her passion inflames me and I can’t think of anything but making love to her, right here, right now.
“Oh, Jade,” I hear my voice moan her name, and it seems to only increase her urge. She scratches her hands down my back, and I growl as her nails dig into me.
Her legs wrap around my waist and she bucks her groin against mine.
I am so hard, I feel like I could fuck her right through our clothes.
Something about the way she pulls on my sweater, tearing it over my head and then dragging her lips over my bare chest tells me she feels the same.
“Kaine... God, Kaine.” She murmurs as I suckle on her neck, my hand reaching between us to graze my fingers over her inner thigh.
“Baby, I want you,” I growl as her legs fall from my back and spread out under me. “I want you so much.”
“Then take me, please,” she whimpers, taking my hand and pressing it against her breast again.
BRINGGGGGGG!!!!
My phone erupts into life in my pocket just as I reach for the hem of her skirt.
FUCK!
“Just ignore it,” I whisper, grazing my teeth along her neck. I can’t stop, don’t make me stop.
She laughs and pushes on my chest, “It’s fine. It might be important. I’m not going anywhere... I promise.” Her fingers tickle me behind my ear, making me lose all focus.
“Ugh!” I kiss her on the lips quickly and reach into my pocket, half meaning to fling it off the building’s roof.
I glance at the screen quickly and frown. The call is coming from my apartment.
“Yes?” I answer.
“Mr. Ashley? It’s Nancy, your nurse. Gabriel is gone.”
Fuck.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
HER
When Gabriel was five years old he told me he was going to be an explorer when he grew up. When I asked him why, he said it was because he wanted to have a coin with his head on it. Not a mountain range, not a river named after him, but a coin. Something that had his head on it, everywhere, hidden behind couch cushions and car glove compartments.
Right now, I kind of wish his head was on every coin or milk carton as it were.
It might make it easier to find him.
The last four hours have been spent turning up any stone that might help us find out where he is. Not that he has any friends or work mates I can call.
It’s like he doesn’t even exist.
We’re driving back to Kaine’s apartment, in case he’s returned. It’s 11 p.m. and dark, and somewhere out there, in the 8 million people crammed into this city, is my little brother.
“Are you okay?” Kaine asks, moving closer so my exhausted head can fall onto his shoulder.
“No.”
“He’ll turn up.”
“Alive?”
“You have to believe so.”
I sigh, using the little energy I have left in my body to force out all the toxic air and breathe in fresh oxygen.
“You were wrong. My mother wouldn’t be proud of me at all. I couldn’t even take care of my little brother. I changed my mind. I don’t want to meet her again. I don’t deserve to.”
“It’s not your fault. He makes his own decisions. You’ve done everything you can.”
His words just wash over me, and I retain none of them. Just close my eyes and hope that when I wake up, Gabriel will be there.
***
The car comes to a stop outside Kaine’s apartment building and I jump out before Henry or he can open the door for me. I run through the door held open by the doorman and press the elevator button a hundred times until it dings, the doors opening and letting me in. I hear Kaine run up, calling me, but the elevator doors close before he can get there. He’ll get the next one, I tell myself, wringing my fingers as I watch the light illuminate the floor numbers as the elevator ascends.
“GABRIEL!” I yell, even before the doors open on the penthouse floor.
“Gabriel! Are you here?!” I yell again, running through the dark apartment and into the guest bedroom where I had last seen him, just this morning.
I hold my breath as I step into the dark room and for a moment, the bundled-up blankets give me hope.
But he’s not there.
There’s no note, no clue as to where he could have gone. Only his stained clothes in a pile in the corner and the dent of his head on the pillow to suggest he was ever here.
I slide into the unmade bed and pull the crumpled pillow against my chest, almost trying to stuff it into my ribcage, to fill up the space he’s left behind.
“Gabriel...” I hear myself whimper, even as the tear start to fall. “I’m sorry Gabriel, I’m sorry, Mom...” I sob.
Someone calls my name but I ignore it. I just bury my face in my brother’s pillow and close my eyes, pretending that he’s just in the next room sleeping or playing, and forgetting that without our mother, it’s only the two of us now.
“Jade,” Kaine whispers again. And this time he slides into the bed next to me, curling his body around mine. “I’m going to be right here.”
His breath on my neck over the next few hours becomes my source of comfort.
***
“Gabriel!” I sit up in the bed, waking up with a start, a few hours later. It’s almost completely dark, but I can feel a body next to me. It’s Kaine. His eyes are closed and his breath steady.
My worry fades for a moment, as I reach out and touch the stubble on his cheek, leaning over to kiss him softly. I slide to the end of the bed and tiptoe out to the living room, standing by the window, looking out into the city spread out in front of me.
“Where are you, Gabriel? Tell me where you’ve gone,” I whisper, hoping the bond that ties us will carry my message to him.
There’s a flash of the memory of him laying practically unconscious on the stinking, soiled mattress at the crack den. And that split second before he took a breath, when I thought he might be dead.
“Dammit, what am I doing here? I should be there, waiting for him! He wasn’t there when we went before, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be there now!” I rationalize out loud.
I run to the elevator, pressing the button frantically, the urgent need to find him completely clouding all logic, all reason.
“Jade? Jade! Where are you going?” Kaine comes out, rubbing his eyes. When he pulls his hand away, I see they’re red, dark circles surrounding then and it tears at me a little to know I’m the reason. My brother and I, turning his life upside down.
“I’m going... to find Gabriel. I’m going back to where we found him yesterday,” I tell him, facing the elevator, willing the doors to open faster.
“Jade, we’ve looked everywhere, it’s not safe now. I’ve got a few guys out looking for him, but it’s better for you and me to stay here in case he comes back.”
“He’s not coming back!” I yell at him. He wouldn’t understand, he doesn’t know what it’s like, to wait as hours become days, as days become months of not knowing. Never knowing.
“You don’t know that,” he says, coming closer, his hand inching towards me.
“I do, I do know
that. I’ve lived this life for six years. And every time, he comes back, he’s just that little bit worse. Don’t you see? Maybe this is the time he won’t come back at all.”
The elevator light flashes and the ding echoes in the marble hallway.
We freeze as we watch the doors open and as I take a step forward, Kaine blocks me.
“Get out of the way, Kaine. I need to go find my brother.”
“No. I’m not letting you go. You’re tired and you’re still recovering from your own injury, and it’s just not safe. No.”
“LET ME GO, KAINE!” I yell and grab his shoulder with both my arms, pushing him away. But he’s too strong. He doesn’t budge, even as I curl my fingers into his chest, digging my nails into his flesh as far as I can. “Ahhhhh!” I scream, tearing so hard on his shirt that I feel the burn of my nail break on the fabric. But the pain only spurs me on.
“Let me go, Kaine, please, let me go...” I beg, sobs wracking from my chest.
He doesn’t say a word, grabbing at my wrists and pulling them away from me, slamming my body against the wall.
“Stop,” he says, firmly but calmly, deep into my ear. His hot breath travelling all through my body.
“No... he needs me, my brother needs me, let me go, please.” I sob, fighting against his hands.
“No, Jade, I can’t. I have to protect you. You’re staying here with me.”
“If you don’t let me go, I’ll hate you forever,” I hiss, staring him deep in the eyes for the first time since he showed up at the elevator.
“Then hate me. Hate me so much you want to kill me. Hate me so much you want me to die. Hate me until your dying day, if you must. But you’re going to do it safe and alive.”
He leans in, his lips brushing against my ear with every word, sending shivers down my spine. And I vow to hate him until the end of my days.
My wrists burn from his restraining me. And I stop struggling. I want to hurt him so much, my mouth waters. How can he do this to me, stop me from looking for my own flesh and blood? All I can think of is how to make him pay.