INK: Vanishing Point (Book 2)

by Roccaforte, Bella

  Carl clears his throat, drawing me away from the thought, which is good because standing here in front of him at “half staff” probably isn’t my slickest move. “You want something to drink? I’ve got soda, water, milk and some juice. I also have a shit ton of mixers but no booze.” That’s a fucking lie; that bottle of Johnny whispers my name.

  “Water, please.” Carl smiles; his southern drawl really doesn’t fit him and it makes me wonder if it’s a put-on.

  “So Carl, where’re you from?” Let’s see what he comes up with; probably go for the obvious like Mississippi or Georgia. Honestly if I had to guess I’d say Texas. Not to mention the sheer size of this motherfucker. Everything’s bigger in Texas, right?

  “The Philippines,” he states simply.

  His answer stops me in my tracks. “The Philippines?” I’m dubious, considering I’ve never heard anyone from the Philippines with a thick drawl like Carl’s.

  “Yeah, I came to the States when I was ten.” He takes the water.

  “Where did you land then?”

  “All over really; been a little bit of everywhere.” He nods confirming his nomad status.

  “How long have you been working with McFruitcake.” I can’t bring myself to take that guy seriously. I mean, Carl seems like an okay guy. Anyone willing to stand guard for Shay like he did is all right in my book.

  “McNab and I have been associates for a long while.” He gives me a look that tells me he doesn’t appreciate my personification of Sir Fruitcake.

  “So you take all of that seriously? The paranormal crap.” I really can’t buy into it. I’ve heard so many bullshit stories in the courtroom. Now having someone try to peddle this line of hocus pocus is just ridiculous. Carl is a grown man; he’s got to be in his thirties, old enough to know better.

  “Don’t you?” he says, leaning across the breakfast bar.

  “No.”

  “So what’s your explanation of what’s happening with Shay?” he challenges.

  “I think it’s all some sort of misunderstanding.” I really don’t know what to make of it, but I’m not buying his ghost stories.

  “Ghost stories?” He straightens up raising an eyebrow.

  Shit did I say that out loud? “Yeah, I’m not buying this Specter story. It’s just not plausible.”

  “McNab will figure it all out; I’m confident he’ll be able to help her.”

  “I hope so; I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to have a job if this keeps up. I’m not Aiden Roth, born with a silver spoon in my mouth.” I choke on his name when I say it. I’m so fucking mad at him. I really do think he’s lost it. He tried to kill her.

  “You should lighten up on Aiden; you don’t know what he’s going through.” He says it sympathetically as though he does know.

  “Are you ever going to tell me what happened that night?” I know there’s more to the story than he’s telling. I just don’t understand his motivation for not helping us get him.

  “I did tell you what happened. I heard two gunshots. I entered the home and Shay was lying on the floor alone. I called 9-1-1 and got her out of there when I saw the fire.” He says it simply, he’s just not talking. This is useless.

  “You want to watch the game?” I abandon all hope of him filling me in. I know Shay will get her memory back and she’ll tell me what happened.

  “Sure, why not.”

  Chapter 7

  Reach Out & Touch Carl

  Shay

  My dreams have been so restless lately; as if someone or something is trying to break through but I can’t reach them. It’s as though I’m watching from far away or on a TV with a bad antenna. Looking around trying to see where I am, it comes in a little clearer: my living room. The windows are broken and the curtains wave with the wind snagging on the broken glass. It looks like there was a fire in the living room. The furniture is all still in its place but there is blood on the walls.

  I sit on the couch taking it all in. Words in blood come into focus:

  For you my love. I did it for you.

  Something moves in the shadows outside. “Gabriel?” I see the outline of him in the distance. Seeing him lifts a pain from deep within me blanketing my being. I didn’t realize the pain was there. Having him within my reach makes me feel like I’m suffocating from the distance between us.

  “Gabriel, I’m here,” I shout, walking to climb through the broken window to go to him. I can’t raise my feet to the ledge; something unseen is holding them down. The door! I run around the couch to the door, but the knob won’t turn. I pull on it, looking around the burnt out room for something to smash the knob off. There’s nothing.

  Gabriel’s voice is haunting. “I need you.” He calls to me over and over. The sound saturates all of my senses, creating an angered confusion that I can’t control. My hands are balled into fists and my nails bite into my palms with enough intensity to draw blood.

  Thick dripping lines move along the wall forming the words: “You have the power to leave.” They disappear once I’ve read them.

  The message prompts me to try the knob again, but my hands are slick with the blood I’ve released into my palms. I kick at the door, trying to break it down, but I’m not strong enough. I try the window again, but my body is impotent to climb through, and it’s like my shoes are filled with gravel. Something is watching and won’t let me leave. In frustration I smash the rest of the glass out of the window frames, cutting my arms. I scream out in pain and frustration, “Why can’t I leave?”

  Lines appear on the wall moving slowly through soot and crumbling drywall, “Outside the door.” The words fade.

  “Outside the door? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I want to be outside the door.” I go to the window and crane my neck to see the welcome mat. Carl is standing there in his customary guard stance with his hands folded in front of him. “Carl!” I call out to him but he doesn’t respond. I call again, but nothing. He can’t hear me or he is ignoring me.

  “Fuck, he’s keeping me in here.” Gabriel’s form is fading into the fog, but I can still hear him calling out.

  “Come to me.” His voice is far away, but the anguish in his tone shoots through me, causing me to double over in pain.

  “Use the power within you.” The words are scratching into the drywall, causing more of the wet burnt surface to crumble to the floor.

  There is no power in me. I can’t do anything. My body folds to the floor in a pool of hopelessness that I’m filling with tears that won’t stop falling.

  “Reach out to him; I’ll help you.” The meaning is unclear to me.

  A surge of power courses through me and I’m lifted effortlessly off the floor to my feet. I go to the window where I can see Carl. I reach my hands toward him. As I do, dark tendrils of smoke make their way toward him. I’m astonished at what I’m doing but the power flowing through me is overwhelming. I’ve never felt so strong. As my black smoky hands near Carl I feel like I can do anything. I put the hands on his shoulder blades and push. He looks at me and shakes his head, he’s unmovable.

  “Let me out!” I gravel out in a voice that isn’t my own.

  Carl plants his feet firmly on the mat and shakes his head. His eyes challenge me, but I know I’m stronger than him. My eyes fill with the hatred burning in me for anything and everything that is keeping me from Gabriel. He holds my gaze, unyielding. He’s raised the ante and I’m going to see him – dead.

  Guiding my hands to his neck I command them to wrap around his throat and squeeze. His eyes round out in shock as he tears at the hands strangling him. He’s helpless; he can do nothing to stop me. I will get out of this house, I will get to Gabriel and no one can stop me.

  Carl’s face flushes with reds and purples and I hear the voice in my ear, “That’s it, my love. Feel the power within you.”

  ***

  Eli

  Sitting in the living room watching the game, I can’t stop myself from stealing glances in his direction. This g
uy is creepy quiet. I’m not buying into this paranormal shit. Aiden shot Shay plain and simple. I don’t know why, but I’ll be damned if he’s going to get near her again.

  Carl is a little too sympathetic to Aiden, but the cop outside isn’t. He’ll keep him away from her. That is if Aiden ever comes back. I seriously doubt he’ll be showing his face around here anytime soon. He doesn’t know what she does or doesn’t remember, just left her there alone bleeding. She could’ve died.

  The theory that Shay stabbed him just doesn’t make sense unless she was protecting herself. Leave it to her to bring a knife to a gunfight; that’s my girl. A laugh escapes on a breath. Carl glances in my direction with a hint of a smile. Shay couldn’t hurt a fly and I know she would never harm Aiden or she would have killed him already.

  I tick my head in Carl’s direction, “Good game?”

  He nods coolly, pretty typical for this guy from what I’ve seen. I focus back on the game, Miami is tearing Syracuse a new asshole. In my peripheral vision I see Carl shoot forward from the couch, throwing his water bottle onto the coffee table.

  “What the hell?” Who throws an opened water bottle on a table? I turn to tell him he’s an asshole; I don’t care how big he is and I see his face.

  Carl is turning three shades of purple and grasping at his throat. I have to help him; he’s choking. “What were you eating?” I'm trying to figure out what could be lodged in his throat. I try to get him to stand so I can try the Heimlich maneuver. He shakes his head and points to the hallway where the bedrooms are.

  “I don’t understand; let me help you.” I pull at his arm to get him to stand.

  He shakes me off and sputters out, “Shay.”

  “Shay? What about Shay? Dude, stand up so I can help you.” I’m totally freaking out this fucker is going to die in my living room and he won’t let me help him.

  “Wake Shay,” he’s barely able to gasp the words.

  “She isn’t going to know what to do; let me help you.” I tug at him some more; I wish he wasn’t so damned big.

  Carl points at his neck. I stumble backward looking at him in total disbelief. I rub at my eyes to clear the madness, but it’s still there. I can see the depressions on his skin, there are invisible fingers digging into his neck, pushing on his Adam’s apple. I shake my head “What the fuck is that.” I'm astonished, frozen in place.

  “Wake.” He rasps.

  Shaking my head in confusion I back away and run to the guest room and burst through the door. Shay is curled up on the bed asleep but restless. “Shay! Wake up! Get up!” I pull on her hip to turn her to onto her back. “Shay!”

  Her eyes flutter open, “Eli, what’s wrong?”

  “Jesus Christ!” I jump away from her off the bed. Her hands and arms are bloody. “You’re bleeding.”

  “Eli?” Her eyes are heavy and she’s confused by being startled awake. All I can do is look at her hands and back toward the door.

  Carl rushes in and goes straight to her. Her face washes in guilt and she can’t look him in the eye. “Carl?” She puts two fingers up to his neck where it is raw and red, “Oh God, I didn’t know.”

  “I know you didn’t, but it’s about time you did.” He takes one of her hands, looking at the blood. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  Her eyes round out with fear at seeing the blood on her hands, “Oh God, oh God,” She chants pulling her knees into her chest and her shoulders to her ears, making herself as small as possible. Carl wraps his arms around her to comfort her.

  “It’s okay we’re going to figure this out.” He rocks her and turns to me. “Eli, I need to make a phone call. Come take care of her.”

  I’m still paralyzed, trying to process what happened. My feet won’t move and I can only shake my head. “Eli!” Carl barks, standing up from the bed holding Shay. I jump and take three steps toward them.

  He transfers her into my arms; she’s sobbing uncontrollably. I pull her in tight to try to calm her shivering. “What the hell was all that?” I ask Carl as he heads for the door.

  He doesn’t look at me as he keeps walking, “Occupational hazard.”

  Shay is a lost puppy shaking in my arms. Her bottom lip quivers and her fingers are tangled behind my neck like she doesn’t ever want to let go. I don’t know what happened but she’s terrified, and honestly so am I.

  Holding her tight, I carry her into my bathroom to clean the blood from her hands. I don’t know if she’s been cut or whose blood it even is for that matter. Against her protests I set her on the counter and turn on the faucet.

  I gingerly hold her hands under the water, revealing the fingernail cuts in her palms. She looks from her hands to me. Her pale blue eyes wide and uncertain, she looks to me for comfort. I know she’s waiting for me to say something but I don’t know what. I break a slight smile and rest a kiss on her forehead to reassure her that I’m here.

  The sleeves on her shirt are too tight and won’t go up. “We need to take this off; I’ll get you one of mine.” When I try to go get a shirt she catches my arm. I turn to her and she just shakes her head no, holding on to me.

  “Okay.” I unbutton my shirt while she pulls hers off over her head. She crosses her arms across her chest, covering up like I’ve never seen her undressed before. Maybe I never have seen her this vulnerable, full of uncertainty and fear. I take in the beauty of her childlike demeanor and realize that though she’s bloodied on the outside it’s nothing compared to the wounds alive inside her. I’ve never seen her so broken before. All I want to do is heal her from the inside out. The need to hold her overcomes me and I rest my hands lightly on her shoulders and give her a look asking for permission.

  She throws her arms around me and pulls me tight and begins to sob again. I want to cover her in my love, hold her forever and keep her safe, but I don’t know how. After all of this she may need more than what I have to protect her.

  My anger for Aiden subsides as the nagging thought that maybe he was frightened, that maybe she was going to hurt him. But could all of that be true? If it were me I would gladly take a knife to the heart before I ever hurt her. I could never aim a gun at her head and pull the trigger. The anger is returning in full force and I hold her tighter, telling her it’s going to be okay. I inhale deeply to take in her scent; she always smells like spring. But there’s something different: burning and smoke.

  Carl clears his throat, standing in the doorway. “Hey Carl.” I finish taking my shirt off and wrap it around her shoulders and roll up the sleeves to look at the cuts on her arms.

  “I spoke with McNab.” Carl says simply.

  Shay perks up at the mention of his name. I keep cleaning the blood from her arm and don’t acknowledge Carl.

  “We need to talk, Shay.” His tone kind, he steps into the bathroom and picks up her other arm. “It looks superficial. I think you'll be fine.”

  Shay puts her hand on his, “What happened?”

  Those two little words seem so harmless but they’re loaded. Carl tries to smile but can’t manage it, “Let’s go talk.”

  Shay slides off the counter unsteadily. I brace her as we head for the living room. All I want to do is pick her up and hold her forever. Siphon the pain from inside her and make this all go away.

  Chapter 8

  Nescience

  Shay

  Eli holds me close to him as we sit on the couch. Carl sits on the edge of the leather chair across from us. I have no idea what the hell just happened. I’m so confused and scared I just want to cry, but I have to pull myself together. “Carl, what the hell was all of that?"

  “That was the Specter manifesting itself in you to remove me from the equation. He’s looking for a new way to get around not being able to possess you.” He gauges Eli’s reaction.

  “Carl, is it really a good idea to –” Carl cuts him off before he can finish.

  “Eli, I don’t care whether you have the good sense to believe your own eyes or not. This was real.” He points to his ne
ck still red and possibly starting to bruise. “She could have killed me if you hadn’t woke her up.”

  Eli shakes his head in disbelief.

  I chime in, “If you’ve got a better explanation I’d love to hear it.”

  “I don’t have an explanation, but this is all so ridiculous.” Eli combs his fingers through his hair. “I mean seriously, what is this Specter?”

  “The Specter is an evil force that attaches itself to people and it has taken quite an interest you. You dream about it, right?”

  “Yes, and Gabriel.” My insides ache when I say his name, it’s been so long since I’ve seen him and I feel an emptiness inside. “But I haven’t been dreaming, not really.” I think for a moment, “I know I had a few dreams at the hospital; some of them were pretty bad and I couldn’t really wake myself up. But they stopped.”

  “McNab asked me to stay with you to serve as a protector in your dreams to keep you safe,” he says and Eli huffs squirming in his seat. “I’ve been trying to just keep you from dreaming altogether, but something was different tonight. It got through.”

  “This is all really hard to swallow.” Eli says standing to pace the floor. “How do you keep her from dreaming?”

  Placing my hand on Eli’s arm to try to calm him, I explain, “Carl has specialized training and can do things.” I sound so cool, like I’m in the know, but Eli’s still not ready to get his ticket punched on the crazy train with us.

  “I’m not asking you to swallow anything” Carl says then looks back to me, “Shay, you need to tell me what happened in the dream.”

  I tell him about the writing on the wall and the tendrils of smoke. That I felt drunk with power and didn’t realize what I was doing. “Carl, I thought it was a dream and I was trapped in the house. The windows were broken and the living room burned out, I needed to get out of there to get to Gabriel.”