by Hawk, Ryanne
And let her soul beg.
The dream ended almost on a curtain closing, just poof and gone. The smoke tarried as I merged in and out of the darkness. Then I inhaled the earthen spice of consciousness, but refrained from opening my eyes. Tears threatened my sanity, the mental images from sleep still lingering in my thoughts, and I pressed closer to Sol.
His deep and even cadence calmed my thrumming heart and exposed nerves, and after a few moments, our breaths mingled with the same rhythm and soothed me back into a light healing sleep.
The high-pitched ring of a cell phone woke me up out of my slumber, and Sol stretched on the bed before I heard him answer with a gruff, “Hello.”
A nanosecond later he bolted upright and sprung from the bed, clamoring around my bedroom grabbing his things. He spoke in a language I didn’t know, and it pissed me off to no end as I watched his tirade as he strode through my home. I debated whether to get up or stay under the warmth of the covers.
He closed the phone then turned to me with his eyes fever bright and glowing, exposing the predator in him. Tendrils of fear danced up my spine at the haunted sight.
“I have to go.” He came to me on light feet, leaned down, and pressed his lips to my forehead.
I projected my energy out to meet him. Worry, love, affection—all mixed and ready to offer aide should he require my brand of nurturing.
He closed his eyes and lingered before whispering, “Thank you,” as his body shuddered, and he left my bedroom in a flourish.
The front door nicked closed, and I found myself in bed alone.
As I laid there pondering what had just happened and wondering if Sol was okay, I also thought about the fact we still hadn’t had sex yet. Would we ever have sex?
I ran through my yoga poses to calm my nerves and out of control hormones. I pressed shuffle on my music player then laughed as an idea came to me. Perhaps I should make a playlist for when Sol and I do make love. I figured he’d be back at some point today, so I started in earnest. Tonight would be his lucky night.
A thought struck me and I bound from the bed heading straight towards the living room, but there was no one on the couch. No sign of Zach. My throw blankets were folded and placed over the sofa, the cushions all arranged properly. I walked around and there, lying were Zach had been the night before was a note.
"I took Zach." Scribbled in a barely legible masculine scrawl. Signed with just an 'S', my mind started racing with questions. I guess I'd just have to wait and talk to him when he got back.
★★★
The house lay quiet as I puttered around preparing a nice evening in with Sol. I’d made dinner, set out wine glasses, and chopped his favorite fruit to put in the salad. Only thing missing was the man himself. I figured he'd be home around dark.
“What the hell kind of name is kumquat?” I said as I sliced the tiny little oranges into thin round pieces and tossed them in the field greens.
I prepared my evening around a movie and dinner, so I picked out, 'Dirty Dancing'. Though truthfully, I hoped we weren’t going to be doing much watching. I smiled and continued setting the table with food.
The door chimed and two loud raps followed. I set the dishes down, humming as I dried my hands on the towel over my shoulder and walked to the door, turning the lock and opening it with a huge smile. “Welcome ho—Oh.”
The two men who greeted me wore hound dog lips and grim eyes. “Ma’am? May we come in?”
I stared at the police officers, my brain feverishly working. “Officers? What’s this about?”
“I’m Lieutenant Jeffreys. This is Detective Fox, and we’re here about Dixon Sharpe.” They watched my face for any sign of knowledge, for a shred of evidence. I slipped my calm mask into place and gave them a small smile full of warmth.
“Dixon? Is he all right?” I cocked my head to the side and furrowed my brows for effect. For a moment, my heart slowed and every fear I’d ever faced surfaced, but I swallowed them down. They didn’t know anything. I trusted Sol.
“Ma’am, when was the last time you saw Dixon?”
Tricky. I’d have to be honest. “I saw him two nights ago. We had a date at a Le Tres on Fifth. We left and were on our way back to his apartment, but he started to not feel well, so he dropped me off instead. I think I got home around ten. Why? Is he okay? Did something happen to Dixon?” I let my eyes widen and my lip quiver. “He’s such a nice man.”
The officers glanced at each other. A silent communication took place—one honed from years of working together. The Lieutenant spoke with a detached coolness, “We regret to inform you that Dixon Sharpe died on Wednesday evening.”
I clutched my chest and said, “Oh my God! What happened? Was there a break in? Did he fall? You must be mistaken.” I patted my pockets and looked around in a mad rush. “Let me call him. You’ll see. He’s fine. Dixon’s fine.”
“Ma’am. He’s dead,” the detective said in a soothing, calm tone. “How was he when he brought you home?”
“I need to sit. Can I sit? Would you like some coffee? Tea? Please, come in.” I left the door open and flew to the kitchen in a flurry. Putting on a good show for the fine police of Connecticut. I opened and closed cabinets, started and stopped talking. Waved my hands around.
I turned back to the doorway where they stood, plain clothes and badges around their necks. A second ticked by then another as I pretended to calm myself and I opened my third eye to peer at their auras. A sea of blues and greens swirled around their forms, a misty grey twining in their essence. They seemed legit and didn’t show fear, anger, or rage.
“I’m sorry,” I stammered and visibly took a deep breath. “He'd had a headache. We left the restaurant in a hurry because he was a little nauseous. He’d said his shoulder was bothering him. How maybe he’d tweaked his chest muscles or something working out. He wanted to put some ice on it, take some ibuprofen. When we got into his car, the pain had gotten worse, so he brought me home.” I attempted to look a bit put out, like I wasn’t used to being tossed out on my ass on a date. “Will you tell me what happened?”
“He had a heart attack. He called 911, but by the time the paramedics arrived, he’d already passed away. I’m sorry.”
“I should have stayed with him! I shouldn’t have left him alone. Oh my god, it’s my fault!” My eyed welled with tears, real tears because it was my fault, and I was a little sad he was dead.
The detective stepped closer and tried to soothe me. “Is there anyone you’d like us to call for you?” He glanced around and noticed my dining table set for two.
“No. No. I have a friend coming over soon. I’ll be okay. It’s just such a shock. I just saw him and now he’s gone. It’s so sad.”
“Thank you for your time, ma’am,” the lieutenant said. “If we need anything further, we’ll be in touch.”
I nodded my head and walked back to the door, my hands shaking and my tears pooling. “Okay. Thank you, officers.”
After they left, I locked the door and went to sit on the couch. I was lightheaded and weary. I needed Sol. He’d be here soon. I grabbed the throw blanket and couch pillow and curled up on my side, waiting.
★★★
Two days later and still no word from Sol. Thankfully, the police hadn’t come knocking again, and I hoped feverishly I’d dodged that bullet. I’d paced my house, called his phone, bit my nails, and ate gallons of chocolate ice cream. I’d taken numerous baths, strolled the streets during the day, and trolled the bars at night looking for him, trying to follow his auric beacon, but he seemed to have shut me out. I needed him to come to me. To tell me everything was okay. I needed to know he was all right.
I picked up the phone and dialed. I’d gotten his voicemail again.
“It’s me. Please call me. I need to know you’re okay.”
Click.
Later, I called again and left another voice mail. “I miss you. Please call me.”
Two more days went by, and I started to finally see. Maybe
he’d run. Maybe I’d scared him away. Maybe he didn’t want me. I mean, what did I really know about him anyway? He could have a family somewhere, dozens of mistresses who needed servicing. Hoards and legions of…
I trailed off because I was driving myself insane. I needed to get out of the house and out of my own head for a while. He’d come back. He had too. He was mine, and I was his.
By the morning of the fifth day, I was going stir crazy. I had to get out of the house pronto; otherwise, I’d start climbing the walls or redecorating or rearranging my furniture. Again. Sol was off someplace living his life, doing his thing, whatever the hell that was, and I needed to return to the land of the living. The pity-party was over.
I threw on some clothes, grabbed my purse, and headed out the door. I stepped into the hall and suddenly remembered I’d left my keys on the kitchen table. I rushed back inside, snatched up my keys, and turned around to literally bump into Aunt Bea standing inside the door I’d left open in my haste.
“Good morning Cordelia.”
“What the fu-iddlesticks,” I stammered.
Her eyes twinkled. “I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just coming back from my morning exercise walk at the mall. You know us old folks have got to keep moving, or we’re going to wake up dead one day. Anyway, I saw your door open and considering all the commotion going on over here lately, I thought I should check to make sure you were all right.”
I bit my lip and choked back a snarky reply. I hate it when people invade my personal space, but she was right about the commotion. Thanks, Sol.
“I’m sorry about the noise, Aunt Bea. It won’t happen again. I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. I’m on my way out. I forgot my keys, and I had to come back in. That’s why the door was open.”
She let out a low, throaty laugh like she knew something I didn’t and stepped farther into the room. “Okay, dear. I worry about a young, good-looking woman like yourself, living alone without a man to watch out for her. The city can be a dangerous place. If you need anything or just someone to talk to, I’m only across the hall.”
For some reason all my senses started firing at once. Bea’s sickly sweet perfume mixed with the sweat from her morning walk permeated the space and gagged me. The air around us heated up, and my shirt stuck to my back. My own breathing sounded loud and harsh in my ears. I tried to read her emotions, but only my sudden apprehension bounced back at me.
Fuck, something wasn’t right.
I took a tentative step back and eased into a defensive stance, my legs spread apart for balance. “As I said, I’m fine and I’m going out now. I apologize again for the noise, and I’ll make sure my friends don’t disturb you again.”
She didn’t move, she just stared at me, not saying a word.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for an appointment.” I lied to get her to leave.
Her grey eyes locked with mine, not blinking and time stood still. My arteries drowned in a surge of adrenaline, and Delia flared up in me in a rage.
I held my ground and Delia at bay.
“All right, Cordelia. I hope you have a nice day. I’ll be seeing you.” She gave me one last appraising look from top to bottom, as if she was evaluating a piece of steak. Finally, without another word, she turned and walked out the door.
I stood there in stunned silence, waiting until I heard Aunt Bea’s door open and close, but I couldn’t hear anything, except my heartbeat pounding between my ears.
A loud thud shook me out of my stupor. I eased toward my still open door and peeped around the edge. No Aunt Bea.
Whew, what the hell was that all about? She was just a nosy old woman, right?
I’d been cooped in this house too long, my mind was playing cruel tricks on me, and so I quickly locked the door and took off down the hall in a fast trot.
★★★
I walked on autopilot to the coffee shop, and my mind was a swirl of conflicting thoughts. I tried to figure out if I was going nuts or if there really was something threatening about Aunt Bea. Lately, I wasn’t having much luck determining what was real or just my imagination.
Great, now I was horny, lonely, and fucking nuts too.
The seats by the window where Sol and I had sat were empty. His residual energy called to me, and my feet steered me directly to the spot where he’d sat. I plopped down on the couch, and my body sank into the plush cushions. An overwhelming sense of peace washed over me, and I could almost feel Sol’s presence next to me.
I fought back the tears brimming behind my eyes and turned to look out the window. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, and I was determined not to make it rain on anybody’s proverbial parade.
“Excuse me, Ms. Kelly.”
I spun around to see the redheaded barista standing by my table with a tray in her hands. Her eyes were bright enough to burst, and her grin was nearly bigger than her face. The same barista my empathic insight had told me was going to commit suicide.
Shit, I’d totally forgotten about her in my depressed reverie. I’d meant to come back and talk with her. “Huh?” Well, wasn’t that intelligent of me.
“I’ve brought your coffee for you. I hope I’ve prepared it right…ice, a splash of coffee, Ovaltine, and chocolate syrup. I’ve also brought you two bananas and two croissants from the bakery down the street. The chocolate croissants are fresh; I picked them up this morning. Actually, I’ve stopped and bought fresh croissant every morning for the last three days, waiting for you to come into the shop,” she said it all in an excited gush of words. “When you didn’t come, I ate them,” she said in a conspiratorial stage whisper, beaming her thousand-watt smile at me.
My mouth open and closed because my brain wasn’t telling me what to say. I gave her a look I normally reserve for criminally insane and repeated, “Huh?”
“Oh, you have no idea what I’m talking about do you? Sol told me how to prepare your coffee, and he told me to buy the croissants. He described you perfectly, and he said I should expect you to come into the shop around this time of day.”
“You know Sol?” Sharpness crept into my voice.
For a moment, she forgot me—and hope and love filled her eyes. “Yes, I know him,” she said, her secretive smile setting my teeth on edge.
“You have no idea how happy that makes me.” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “How do you know Sol? When did you meet him?”
“Hmm? Oh, my name is Chrissie.” The dreaminess in her voice made me want to punch the pretty dazed smile of her face. “Do you mind if I sit down for a moment?”
My heart’s excited pumping made it hard to sound casual. “Nice to meet you, Chrissie. Sure, please have a seat.” I wanted to mock, but I also wanted to know when she’d last seen Sol. Maybe I’d glean where he was or where he went.
She placed the tray in front of me. Then she pulled a chair over and sat down across the table from me.
I reached for the cup of coffee and took a long swig to settle my raging nerves. Hmm, perfect. I could almost hate her at the moment.
“Well, I commend you on your coffee making; this is exactly how I drink it.”
Her eyes shone in a way that melted my heart just a teensy bit. “Oh, Ms. Kelly. You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say those words. I’ve been a nervous wreck, worrying that I wouldn’t make your coffee just right and disappoint Sol.”
I sighed inwardly. “Yes…Sol, tell me about Sol.”
Her eyes were soft and warm. “Sol told me I could trust you. A few days ago I was so depressed I’d lost my will to live. I’d gotten pregnant a few months ago, and the no good piece of shit who was the baby’s daddy didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. If my parents had found out, they’d have disowned me. I have one more year before I graduate from college. Then I plan to go to medical school.”
When my only answer was an impassive stare, Chrissie sighed and started talking again.
“I’m ashamed to admit it,
but my boyfriend tried to talk me into getting an abortion. In fact, he told me if I didn’t get an abortion, he’d kill me and the baby, and I believed him. He’s a very powerful man. When we first met here at the coffee shop, I was enchanted that an older, more sophisticated man of his means would be interested in a girl who worked in a coffee shop. He was a rough lover, but I kinda liked it rough, and he took me to some of the finest restaurants in town. He bought me new clothes, treated me like a Princess in public, and his sex toy behind closed doors. But there were times when he scared me. He liked to do breath play, and once I thought he was going to strangle me to death. Well, the blush wore off the bloom quick after he found out I was pregnant. I told him I’d rather give the baby up for adoption than abort. He didn’t care for that idea so he beat me one night, and I ended up in the emergency room. I lost the baby.” She looked away and drew in a deep breath, letting it out slow before meeting my gaze.
Tears welled up in my eyes and red-hot anger made my stomach muscles clench. “Asshole,” I growled.
Chrissie laughed at my outburst. “It’s okay; he is an asshole. The doctors said I wasn’t damaged internally and that most likely I can still have children. Well, as you might imagine, I was emotionally fucked up after losing the baby the way it happened. He swore he’d kill my whole family and me if I told anyone what happened. I became paranoid he’d kill us all anyway and the guilt of allowing myself to be used and discarded as if I didn’t matter weighed on my mind.” She spoke calmly as though she were talking about someone else’s life. Her story seemed so scripted.
“A few days ago I planned to kill myself. I figured he wouldn’t have a need to hurt my family if I was dead. I’d gotten some sleeping pills from a friend, and I was going to take all of them then slit my wrists in the bathtub. I’d planned for weeks. Then I met Sol. He was sitting right were you are now when I came over to serve him on my last day of work. I’d wanted my parents to have my last check to maybe help with the burial. I took one look into his eyes and found myself lost and found. I swear a faint pop and sizzle sped along my nerve endings when he caressed me with his eyes.”