INK: Sketches (Book 0 - parts 1 & 2)

by Bella Roccaforte

  An insane electric impulse spikes through my core at his words, his lips and his breath all touching me so intimately. I try to think of something witty, cute or even sexy to say in response, but I'm just not that slick. I pull back slightly to take in his chiseled face. A coy smile lights on my face and he returns it before his lips crash down on mine.

  His kisses are so full of emotion and wanting. There's something in them I've never felt before. Is this something I've been missing with Eli? Is this something I've ever had? Gabriel's kisses are not just needy, they are sensual and affect me in ways I never knew possible. His lips are so soft yet unyielding, commanding my body to react with an intense passion. His kisses truly leave me breathless.

  His mouth trails from mine up my jaw to my ear. "I'm sorry I can't stay." He pulls back and his expression is loaded with remorse.

  "Why?" It comes out more whiny than intended.

  "I have work to do," he says, adjusting his fedora.

  "What work?" My voice takes on an offended tone and my bottom lip immediately puffs out two times the normal size in a pout.

  "Detective work, we've discussed this." He puts his hands on my shoulders, creating a distance between us that's leaving me with a feeling of absence that too closely resembles pain.

  "Let me come with you." I plead up at him through my lashes. "We could be partners."

  He looks down at me with a severe and disapproving stare. "You are too precious to me to bring you around this. I've seen what can happen, I never—" His words catch his throat.

  Clearly what's needed here are some unfair tactics to get what I want. "Fine." I spin on my heel walking down the sidewalk, rubbing my hands up and down my arms for warmth.

  "I'm sorry, I just—" He starts after me. "Here, at least take my coat, you're freezing."

  "No, I'll be fine," I reply while looking straight ahead, careful not to make eye contact with him.

  "Where are you going?" he asks, easily keeping my pace with his long legs.

  "Away, Gabriel." I take another two steps, stop and turn to him.

  Panic lights his gray eyes and his posture stiffens. "Please don't. Just wait for me, in the house. You'll be warm and I won't be long."

  "Neither of us knows how long I'll be here and you want to waste what time we have being away from me? Just let me go with you." I dramatically throw my head back and my shoulders forward like a child begging for five more minutes of cartoons.

  "I just don't want you to see this." He takes my hands in his.

  "But you are okay describing it to me so I can draw it? Gabriel, it will be so much better if I can see it firsthand. I haven't been able to do much at all with what you've told me. There's so little impression left when I try to draw it, I get it all wrong." I squeeze his hands and draw them to my shoulders, wiggling into his warm chest. "Besides, I'll have you there to protect me." I add this last bit for his benefit.

  Gabriel expels a long sigh as he pulls me into his coat and wraps it around me. His scent fills me and warms me faster than his body heat. "Okay, but you have to promise to keep your distance."

  I jump up and down in triumph. This is what I've wanted. I've been trying to storyboard the idea for the new comic, but for some reason the descriptions just aren't enough. I know seeing the scenes will be the difference between drawing something bold and dramatic and just doing replicas of crime scene photos.

  He takes me by the hand and leads me at a brisk pace. His jaw is tense and his eyes are scolding. I'm not sure whether he's angrier with me or himself for acquiescing. "Just remember, you asked for this. This will be in the realm of things you won't ever be able to get out of your mind."

  I nod in compliance and he stops short, wheeling me around to look him in the eye. "And no matter what, you have to do exactly as I say. I'm not losing you." He continues down the sidewalk and mumbles something under his breath.

  "What?" I ask, trotting to stay in stride.

  "Nothing. Try to keep up," he snaps, tugging my hand.

  My eyes feel so big in their sockets, wide with guilt. I try to give him an innocent look, lifting my lids to him. He pulls his lips to the side and refocuses on the sidewalk in front of us, continuing forward.

  I really stepped in it. I hate it and I feel worse about getting my way than if he had refused. My dad used to make me feel this way, and my mother was even worse. Now that the guilt has seeped in this doesn't feel fun anymore. Reservations plague me as to whether this is a good idea. My pace becomes more sluggish and Gabriel tugs at me. "Stop slowing me down."

  Gabriel darts to the left, leading me into an abandoned building. He pulls the boards off the door inside the vestibule and folds himself through the hole he made in the entry. His hand reappears from the opening. He's offering it to me, but I'm scared, I feel an incredible sense of apprehension. Maybe Gabriel was right that I didn't belong here. My whole body has stiffened.

  He shakes his hand. "Come on, you've made the decision to be here. We're too close now, there's no way I'm letting you out of my sight."

  I take his hand and walk through the hole with ease. Gabriel has a flashlight and is leading me down a dirty stairwell. There's crumpled newspaper and remnants from the homeless that used to seek refuge here from the weather. "Is that a needle?"

  He turns quickly to me with his finger over his lips. "Shhhh. And don't touch anything."

  There’s an overwhelming desire to make myself vanish. I know I can't feel any smaller after forcing him to bring me here, and now I'm terrified. My knees are wobbling and my free hand is shaking. My heartbeat feels hollow and distant in my chest. "Sorry," I mouth.

  We turn the corner on the third flight of stairs we're going down and I'm hit in the face with an overpowering stench that makes me miss the smell of mildew from moments ago. It's a combination of public restroom and bad hamburger. Gabriel's pace grows even more cautious when we turn the next corner and the hallway is illuminated by a light streaming through one of the open doors.

  Gabriel's hand has grown cold and clammy and the blood has drained from his face. He's genuinely frightened. If he's not prepared for this, then how can I possibly be able to handle what's in there?

  He stops in the doorway and his face blanches as his body becomes completely rigid. His fingers slide out of my hand. The light from the room illuminates his face twisted in horror.

  After a few long and painful moments of me staring at him gaping at whatever is in that room I take his hand. "Gabriel?" I whisper lightly, hoping to bring him back to me.

  With his mouth still agape he looks down at me with tears welling in his eyes. "I'm too late."

  This is totally my fault, I feel like the worst person on the planet. "I'm so sorry."

  He walks past me toward the broken stairwell and crumbles down against the wall. His eyes are wide with shock and disbelief. The light coming from the doorway lures me closer. I approach it as though I'm trying to sneak up on it, like it's going to get away.

  Gabriel starts mumbling, but the only word I can understand is, "Don't."

  Of course I never listen and take another step until I'm in the doorway and filled with the same horror as Gabriel. My first reaction freezes my feet to the ground and I can't look away. Taking in the entire scene, I'm sure I've never experienced anything so horrible in my entire life. Not Elise's brain matter on the tile, not the crime scene photos in my dad's office, not the sound of my mother's wails when Dad made the positive ID on Elise could have prepared me for the horror that was now burned into my skull for eternity.

  The walls are covered in writing and symbols that don't have any rhyme or reason. It's all written in blood, still wet and shiny. Thick liquid like barbecue sauce pools at the bottom of the letters dripping downward.

  I'm reading the inscriptions on the walls moving left to right. A body comes into view. It's hanging from the ceiling, and I'm disturbed that my first thought is how those old pipes can support the weight of the man. I look closer at him and realize that hi
s shirt isn't stained, he's not wearing one, and his guts have been pulled out and wrapped around him. The strings and sinew are strewn across the floor as though they have been used in an elaborate macramé rope of intestine that leads across the room.

  My eyes are drawn to movement on the floor; the light source is a small campfire in the middle of the living room of the long abandoned apartment. There's a spit resting on a wedge of pulled up floor boards over the untended fire that's dying down. Two pieces of meat are pierced on the skewer. My eyes can't help but strain to see what they are, but damn it my feet won't move closer. Squinting brings the meat into focus and I can make out the shapes on the spit. "Kidneys." My voice echoes through the room.

  Bile rushes up my throat with a scream that's stifled by my fear. I look away from the fire, turning my head to the side to see two eyeballs sitting on the key shelf just inside the door.

  A hot whisper blows in my ear. "I see you."

  I shoot straight up in bed screaming and accidentally knock Eli off kilter, sending him stumbling backwards. I look around to confirm that I'm in my house, in my room and away from that horrible scene.

  Eli scrambles back on the bed, wrapping his arms around me. "Shay, are you okay?" I realize he's rocking me back and forth trying to comfort me. My sobs are more powerful than his arms.

  "Did you dream of her again?" he asks, still holding on for dear life.

  I can only shake my head; I can't get that scene out of my mind. The blood, the words – everything. There was a person. A real person was hanging there from his ankles with his insides where they should never be – on the outside. It's replaying over and over again like a broken record in my mind. Then the record skips forward to the spit and the fire. The realization of what that meant hits me in the stomach all at once. They were being cooked like chicken on the Fourth of July. Someone was going to eat them. A person, a real person was going to be eaten. I break away from Eli in time to make it to the toilet and throw up.

  "Shay, what's wrong?" Eli follows me into the restroom and holds my hair back as I try to spit the last stringy bits of saliva and lunch from my mouth.

  "Bad dream." I pant and lean back on the wall and let my head rest against the cool tile.

  "How can I help you?" he asks in a panicked tone. He really is at a loss.

  "Glass of water." I tie my hair in a loose knot behind my head to let air get to my sweaty neck.

  Eli returns with the water and gets a washcloth out of the linen closet. He tenderly dabs the sweat off my face and neck. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks quietly.

  As though his words rekindled the purpose behind my going to the crime scene, I shoot up from the floor. "No, but I need to draw this out."

  "Okay, do you want me to check on you?" he asks, knowing that I don't like to be disturbed when I'm working.

  "No, I'll be back in a few hours." I have to use the wall to support myself. It hurts me to see Eli so concerned, looking so helpless as I leave him in the hallway and go out to my studio.

  Chapter Seven

  Confidence Boost

  The door opens behind me. I already know it’s Eli, probably bringing in food. He’s been trying to get me to eat for the last three days. I’m on an incredible roll. Disturbing images have been making their way onto the page, and it’s going to get someone’s attention. I know exactly where I’m going with this story; it’s dark, gory and beautiful. This comic is going to sell!

  “Hey sweetie bird, I brought you some breakfast.” He puts a plate of fruit and some kind of nuts and shit on my drawing table. I swear to God he’s trying to get me to eat like a freakin’ squirrel. I look down at my hips, wondering if maybe he’s trying to tell me something. I don’t think I’ve put on weight.

  “Thanks.” I smile half-heartedly. It’s so hard not being irritated by the interruption. He’s just trying to be sweet and take care of me.

  “Are you going to come up for air any time soon?” He takes two tentative steps toward me and leans down to meet my eyes.

  “I’m about done.” I motion to the walls where the panels are hanging. His gaze doesn’t stray from mine.

  “You need to get some sleep, I’m worried.” He’s studying my eyes. I’m sure there are bags the size of grapefruits under them.

  “I’ll be fine. I’m coming in.” I sniff under my arms and smile. “I should at least come in and shower.”

  He looks at me with doubt in his eyes. He glances up at the panels and dismay colors his expression. He’s trying not to react, but he can’t help it. They really are very startling; like the panels I did of Elise, these are pretty gruesome. Eli hadn’t seen those. But shocking someone into signing me is the goal, and I’m going to do it. Someone is going to sign me – Today.

  Eli takes my hand and tugs me toward the door. “For me, please come in and lie down.”

  The determination on his face tells me he means it, and he won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Since I’m about done, I give in and follow him to the house. “Fine, I’ll go. But do we have anything to eat other than squirrel food?”

  Eli looks at his watch then to me. “What would you like? I’ve got some time before I have to be at the office.”

  “Bacon.” I say simply, walking through the front door, and greet Rex who’s wagging his tail like he hasn’t seen me in days.

  “Bacon it is. You go shower.” He swats my behind, chasing me down the hallway. I pause for a moment at the door and he and I exchange smiles. I’m so lucky to have him.

  Closing the bathroom door, I pull out my cell phone and call Trish. She answers in her typical sweet tone – not. “Who the fuck is calling me at seven AM?”

  “Trish, it’s me. I need a favor.” I’m whispering into the phone.

  “Shay? What’s wrong?” The edge is gone from her voice.

  “Nothing, but I need you to bring me some clothes. I’m going into that comic publisher’s office in Orlando and I’m going to make them sign me. So I need to borrow an outfit.” Trish is always quick to remind me that we are about the same size on her ‘bloated days’ and if anyone has slutty clothes it’s her.

  “What are you going for? All out tramp, by the hour or you may not be able to afford me?” she asks, almost bored.

  “How about ‘I can look good, but I’m not having sex with you,’” I answer. “Really, not too slutty.”

  “Okay, I think I have something. When do you need it?”

  “One hour!” I say. “I gotta go. I’ll see you in an hour. Oh, and I need shoes too, but nothing I’m going to break my neck in.” With that I hang up and get in the shower.

  ***

  Wrapped in a bathrobe, I round the corner to the kitchen following the delicious aroma of bacon. Eli’s standing by the stove flipping an omelet. His shirt sleeves are rolled up and his deep blue tie is flipped over his shoulder to keep from getting it dirty.

  I’m not really sure which is more irresistible right now, Eli or the bacon. My eyes travel up his body, full of mischief. “Hey,” I try to say in a sultry tone, but I squeak it out instead.

  Eli turns around, wiping his hands on the towel. He removes the pan from the stove and puts his hands on my waist. “Hey beautiful, I’ve missed you!”

  “I’ve been right outside.” I roll my eyes.

  “Yeah, but when you are ‘in the zone’ you might as well be on another planet.” He tugs me in closer to him and brushes his lips against my ear. “I have a surprise for you tonight.”

  “Oh, let me guess—” He cuts me off.

  “No, you’re terrible at guessing and always spoil the mood.” He looks into my eyes.

  “Okay, okay.” I give in even though I want to guess something lewd and improper. “So a surprise, huh?”

  “Yup, we have a reservation at seven PM, will that work for you?” he asks with a sly smile spreading across his face.

  “I’ll have to check my calendar, but I think I can fit you in,” I quip.

  “Good.” His eyes widen when
he looks at his watch. “I gotta go.” He sways our hips in time from side to side. “But I don’t want to.”

  “I don’t want you to either, but work calls. You’ve gotta go get the bad guys.” I smile, unable to hide my pride in him.

  He moves in and kisses my bare neck. “I love you, and I’ll be thinking about you all day.” His breath is warm and inviting. He continues pressing his lips on my skin, traveling down to my shoulders, pushing my robe aside. I’ve all but forgotten about the bacon.

  I bite into my bottom lip, trying not to surrender to him, but I can’t help it. I look up at him through my lashes. “Are you sure you don’t have a few more minutes?”

  He lets out a groan and touches his forehead to mine. “I really don’t. I’m sorry.”

  I’m trying not to let my disappointment show through; I’m seriously going to need all the confidence I can get and being with Eli always leaves me feeling like I’m on a high. “It’s okay, babe. I’ll take a rain check. And maybe I’ll have a surprise for you too tonight.” My eyes are hooded with mischief and anticipated delight.

  He gets my meaning, letting out a groan as he says, “Shay, you make things so hard sometimes.”

  It’s time to put up or shut up, so let’s try some of this new found confidence. I run my finger down his chest, bumping over each button on his shirt wishing they would fall off. His eyes open to find me staring defiantly into them. My hand keeps going lower until I’m down below his belt. I grab on gently and go onto my tippy toes trying to reach his ear. He bends to meet me, letting out a pleasured gasp. “Huh, look at that. I guess I do make things hard.”

  His hand reaches under my hair, cradling my neck gently, and brings my lips to his. “I’m going to be late, and I don’t fucking care.”

  A playful laugh rides up from within me. My lips press against his, hungry and forceful. I’m totally in control right now and I love it. Taking an aggressive stance I push him over to the counter, our lips never losing contact. I move his hands down to my thighs for him to pick me up. When he does, my legs wrap around him, pulling him in tight and close. “Three minutes, I just want three minutes.”