Haunt My Heart

by Medley, Lisa

  “You have no idea.” Sarah recounted her radio station win and her visit to Caroline Creations.

  “So now what? Are you still going to return the ring to Chatham? I mean, it’s pretty clear it’s a lucky talisman, right? Have you ever had a day this lucky? Wait. No. The answer is no. I’ve known you since kindergarten. You are keeping that ring.”

  “The jeweler said there could be a demon in the stone,” Sarah teased.

  “He was trying to get you to sell it to him. I’m pretty sure onyx has lots of magical and healing properties. And if it is a talisman, it would have had to be charged with magic. Alex would know.”

  “I’m not taking it to your psychic.” Sarah pointed at her own chest. “The practical one, remember?”

  “Responsible one. Practical is a whole different thing. Although after last night, I probably shouldn’t contest that assessment, either.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes. “The jeweler’s appraisal is enough for me. It’s a rock. A pretty rock, but a rock nonetheless. As for a lucky talisman? I’m not going to argue that it’s been a great day. The only thing that could possibly make it better is if I could actually get some work finished.”

  “All right. All right. Thanks for lunch today.” Ellie pushed away from Sarah’s imaginary doorway, sandwich in hand. “And tomorrow. You’ll be the heroine of the office. First Friday tomorrow night?”

  “Absolutely. Right after work. Now go.”

  *

  Tanner breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment, he’d feared Sarah would sell the ring. God only knew what would become of him if that happened. While he wasn’t sure what the time frame or even the process for his impending resurrection might be, he was certain Sarah had a vital role in it.

  The jeweler’s knowledge of the Brothers of Peril was disturbing. Tanner found himself extremely curious to learn more regarding the outcome of the war. He couldn’t imagine how the true mission of the Brothers of Peril had ever been disclosed. Something had to have gone horribly wrong. But that was more than one hundred fifty years ago. For now, he had more urgent matters to attend to. Sarah had to keep the ring at all costs.

  While he had no control over the lucky events she’d ascribed to his ring, nothing would surprise him. One man’s prison could as easily be another’s paradise. He had no doubt of the depth of Sylvia’s diabolical machinations.

  He wandered about the office, as far as his metaphysical tether would allow, while Sarah pecked away at what he had determined was a futuristic letterpress or telegraph machine. With no hope of understanding how the contraption worked, he quickly grew bored and stared out the third floor windows onto the street below.

  How many times had he crossed those same bricks? Gazing out the window, he could see the steeple of St. George’s Church and knew that the Masonic Cemetery was only a block away. Chances were high his body was interred there. Not that it mattered.

  Many of the buildings they’d passed on Sarah’s lunchtime trek were still recognizable but with new names and purposes. From the windows of her office, he could see the Rappahannock River, from which he’d filled his belly with the sweetest oysters he’d ever known. And beyond the river were the bluffs of Chatham.

  Fredericksburg hadn’t been all bad. But it was no New York.

  So many questions plagued him, threatening to overcome him. Some way, he had to make contact with his unlikely savior. Sarah Knight was his one chance to break the hex.

  He didn’t let himself consider the alternative.

  Chapter Six

  Sarah declined the invitation to join Ellie and her coworkers at happy hour at the Ale House. She was beat. Being up late last night, the combined anxiety/excitement of the day, and hours of staring at her computer screen had left her depleted. Her happy hour would consist of ice cream for dinner and maybe an hour of television.

  It was nearly seven p.m. when she got home. Greysmith’s was hopping for a Thursday night. Poetry reading, from the chalked sign out front. That might have been fun if she had any energy left.

  She made her way up the stairs and tried to readjust her laptop bag as it continued to slide off her slumped shoulders. At the top of the stairs stood Jason in front of her apartment door. For once, she was glad she hadn’t gotten around to having a key made for him. Not that he liked to stay at her apartment, anyway. Too noisy. Too Bohemian. Too Sarah and not enough Jason. But it felt great to have something all her own. Like a proper adult.

  “Where have you been?” The scowl on Jason’s face set the tone before she could even utter her greeting.

  “Hello to you too, Jason. I was at work. Is everything okay? You look upset.”

  Jason pushed away from the wall, his hands opening and closing at his sides. His loosened tie hung askew and the front tail of his shirt, partially pulled free from his dress pants, sagged below his expensive suit jacket. Disheveled was the word that came to mind. She continued toward him, her smile faltering when a wave of scotch drifted to her. Jason had already enjoyed his happy hour.

  “You didn’t return my calls. Any of them.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I went out with Ellie last night, and I had to turn my phone off. I forgot to turn it back on. Then when I got home and saw your missed calls it was so late, I didn’t want to wake you.”

  He tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling tiles. “And this morning? Lunch? This afternoon? I called you a dozen times.”

  “Eleven,” Sarah whispered, her reply sounding meek even to her.

  “Twelve. Still no reply. Do you know what would happen if I didn’t call people back? I’d be out of a job. It’s disrespectful to not return a call. How disrespectful is it to ignore a dozen calls?”

  When she didn’t reply, he raised his volume. “Answer me.”

  “You didn’t leave a message. If it were that important, couldn’t you have left a message?”

  “I bought that smart phone for you and put you on my plan because you couldn’t afford it. Also so I could get a hold of you when I needed to. If your phone is off, or if you don’t respond in a courteous manner, then it’s a useless piece of shit. Don’t you agree? Maybe you don’t even need a phone since you can’t manage to use it.”

  Sarah reached into her purse, digging for her door key. She closed her hand around it when she found it, not sure she wanted Jason inside her apartment in his current state.

  “Give me your phone.”

  “Jason, I need my phone. If you don’t want to pay for it anymore, then I’ll get my own plan tomorrow.”

  “Oh, suddenly you can afford a cell phone? Aren’t you moving up in the world? This slumlord apartment and a cell phone. Did you win the lottery and I missed the news report? God knows you didn’t call me back to tell me about it.”

  “I got a little bonus today. That’s all. It’s okay. I don’t want to be a burden to you. Thanks for your help so far. It was very kind.”

  Jason took another step toward her. The scotch reeked from him with each breath. “That’s me. Kind.” He grasped her shoulders and held her briefly. Then he rubbed up and down her arms, gentle strokes at first, but then his grip tightened. His fingers bit through her peacoat and he pushed her back against the door. Sarah’s heartbeat picked up.

  She didn’t like him when he drank. All of the qualities Ellie hated about him were magnified with alcohol. Sarah wasn’t blind to his flaws, but most of the time, he was kind. Most of the time. No kindness shone in his eyes tonight.

  He bent down and pressed his mouth to hers so hard it made it difficult to breathe. The force of his kiss turned her adrenaline up a notch. It was suffocating, not erotic. His hands slid down her shoulders, trapping her arms. Her laptop strap slipped to the crook of her elbow. When she tried to turn away, he bit her neck, holding her in place, and pushed his knee between her legs, lifting her off the floor an inch or so.

  “Jason! Stop it.” She twisted in an effort to get free of him, but he was too strong. Her purse dropped to the floor, the contents scattering
around their feet. The door key remained clutched in her right hand. She didn’t want to hurt him, but he scared her.

  Jason released her arm and yanked her sweater hard, stretching the neck off her shoulder. Seeing the chain, he pulled it from under her sweater until the ring became visible.

  “What’s this?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Whose is this? Are you cheating on me?”

  “It’s no one’s. I found it last night. It’s not a big deal. I’m going to return it to the lost and found.”

  “Open the door and let me in.”

  “No.”

  “No? Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t see you for more than twenty-four hours, you refuse to return my calls, and now you get me all hot and bothered in the hallway and won’t invite me in?”

  His volume continued to rise. She didn’t know many of her neighbors. Not really. Had only met them in passing. She didn’t know what to do. No way was he coming into her apartment, this drunk and agitated.

  “I’m sorry. I said no. You’re drunk, and you’re scaring me.”

  Jason’s body vibrated with anger, and she stood still, trying to make herself invisible. He wound the chain around his hand and tore it from her neck. The broken chain dangled through his fingers as he squeezed the ring in his closed fist.

  “What the hell?” He opened his hand and the ring glowed red hot against his palm. He threw it against her door and stared at the dragon imprint seared into his hand, his face colored with fury. The ring bounced off the door, left a little charred spot, and rolled across the floor.

  “Open. The fucking. Door. Or I’ll kick it in. Do you want to pay for that?”

  She tried to skirt past him. To run. Somewhere. But he caught her arm and wrenched her back to him.

  “Jason, no! You’re hurting me.”

  “Good. Then we’re even.”

  Her neighbor, Adam Something, stepped into the hallway. Sarah had never been so happy to see another living person.

  “What’s going on out here?”

  “Nothing. Just a disagreement,” Jason said, his charming business smile covering his red face before he turned to Adam. “We’re good.”

  “She doesn’t look good. How about you leave her alone?”

  Jason laughed and gave Adam the once over, clearly sizing him up. Jason wasn’t much of a fighter. At least, Sarah had never witnessed him in a fight, but he did work out and was in good shape. Adam was in a little better shape.

  And not drunk.

  Jason glared at Sarah. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. Check your voicemail later. I’ll be sure to leave you a message.”

  She started to remind him that tomorrow night was First Friday with Ellie, but bit her tongue. No need adding fuel to his fire. He gave the ring a kick and sent Adam a mock salute on his way toward the stairs. Sarah held her breath until she heard the street door click behind him.

  Relief flooded through her, and she bent to retrieve the ring and broken chain. Adam moved to her side in a flash and picked up her computer bag. Carefully, he leaned it against her door. They both gathered the contents of her spilled purse.

  She avoided Adam’s eyes as he helped. Her embarrassment grew as she realized what her new neighbor must be thinking. Domestic disturbance came to mind, but that didn’t seem right. Whatever it was, she was glad Jason went home before things got ugly…er.

  “Thanks.”

  “Is he always like that?” Adam stuffed her wallet, a brush and a compact into her purse, kindly ignoring the other unmentionables lying at his feet.

  “No.”

  “Does he have a key?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “I just wanted to know if I need to keep an ear to the door tonight in case he comes back.”

  Abashed, Sarah shook her head. “No. He doesn’t have a key. I still haven’t had time to have one made for him.”

  “Probably a good thing. New boyfriend?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Old boyfriend?”

  “Five years.”

  “Huh.” Adam scooped up some gum, errant Tylenol caplets, and a roll of mints. “Maybe you should consider a new boyfriend.”

  “You sound like Ellie.”

  “Is that the girl who visits you all of the time?” Adam smiled.

  “Yes,” Sarah said, happy to change the subject.

  “She’s cute. Is she available?”

  “Very.”

  Adam stood and Sarah stared down at his bare feet. “Well then,” she said.

  “Right. I’m just going to run downstairs and make sure he’s really gone, if you don’t mind.” Adam gave her a good once over.

  “That would be great. Thanks again.”

  “You’re welcome. You should know though, next time, I’ll call the police. Guys like that don’t usually get better.”

  Sarah sighed. “You definitely need to meet Ellie. Good night.”

  “Night.”

  *

  Tanner raged as he followed Sarah into her apartment. The fact that ne’er-do-well Jason had laid hands on her and that Tanner himself was helpless to come to her aid was only eclipsed by this Adam character who had come to her aid. Not that he seemed a bad sort. Mostly, Tanner directed his anger to the situation, not her neighbor.

  No man had the right to lay hands on a woman.

  Images of Sylvia flashed through his mind. Sylvia was in a completely different category. For her, he would have made an exception. But Jason had no reason for his outburst other than his own underlying poor character.

  Jason’s boorish behavior was beyond his comprehension. Although this was his first encounter with the scoundrel, he shuddered to think Sarah had endured five years of such treatment.

  Her hands trembled as she arranged her belongings on the top of her small banquet table causing her to drop her phone completely. It landed face-up on the floor, saved from destruction by its protective case. Another wonder of this future. A handheld communication device? With no visible power or connections? He’d heard rumors the government had been experimenting with such a thing while he served, but this was amazing. And this device? Voice and photographs? Some of them in motion? It was miraculous.

  This new world was filled with distractions. And distraction was his enemy. He needed to direct his full and utter attention and energy to his topmost priority. Making himself known to Sarah before it was too late.

  Sarah sat heavily in an overstuffed chair in the stylish architectural curve of her living area window. Staring down at the traffic along Princess Anne and William Streets, Sarah’s tears glistened, shiny from the street light illuminating her face. She drew a fuzzy blanket around herself and burrowed into it, pulling her knees to her chest. Moments later, her soft sobs morphed into more labored gasps. Tanner couldn’t blame her reaction after her recent exchange.

  Her cat sent a baleful stare his way, then jumped onto the back of the chair, pawing at her hair while she wept.

  Tanner’s heart ached for her. Wanting to comfort her, stranger that she was, he stood behind her and lay his hands upon her shoulders. After she had no visible response to his touch, he simply stayed near, maintaining his connection and hoping his intentions conveyed what his physical presence could not. Her normally pink aura stained to a muddy gray. Tanner strained to resist drawing in her energy. Not because he feared the results for himself, but because she was clearly exhausted from the exchange with Jason. She needed all the light she could manifest.

  Eventually, she fell asleep in the chair, and Tanner used the time to investigate her apartment. A small mechanical fireplace against the hall-side wall ignited seemingly of its own accord. Flames licked at the glass enclosure, warming the smallish room, and Tanner spent a good half hour sleuthing out the source behind its magic. To even imagine heat at a moment’s notice? Impossible.

  Photographs lined the mantle directly above the fireplace, filled with color and a glossy finish the likes of which he’d never seen. Sarah and El
lie cavorted in a variety of strange poses and locations. They both appeared in their underthings on a beach in one photograph. A scandalous display of tanned flesh and…

  He continued across the mantle.

  One photo of Sarah and Jason together at some gala. She was dressed, mercifully, in fashionable finery. Sarah’s ball gown was a deep green, which accented her chocolate brown hair and green eyes. Her smile radiated at the camera. Jason’s gaze drifted off to the side, unaware the photograph was being taken, it seemed. If Tanner hadn’t disliked Jason already, he would have from this one photograph alone. How could any man look away with a beauty like Sarah by his side?

  He tried not to return to the beach picture—an image which would never leave his mind, anyway. No need to stare at it profusely. He had to remind himself several times as he continued about the apartment.

  Tanner studied every visible possession and read the bits of notes and paper he found, trying to glean as much as possible of the workings of her life. Bitly continued to watch Tanner. The cat transmitted his evil-eyed message and Tanner understood the intent clearly as the beast guarded his mistress.

  He could view the entirety of the apartment from the fireplace. The abode was one large open room with a high ornate plaster-tiled ceiling. A tiny kitchen area resided in a corner nook, which consisted of one top and bottom cabinet, a cooking appliance of some sort and an icebox. A desk sat in the center of the room where she’d deposited her bag and a large, overstuffed divan sat before the fireplace. The only other room was a small bathroom, currently closed off by a door. Sarah slept in the chair by the bank of three floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the street below.

  Two wide bookcases stood like good soldiers against the back wall on either side of her bed. They were filled with glossy spines, some of which were brightly colored where others were dark and foreboding. He canted his head to the side to read their titles.

  Fifty Shades of Grey? Clearly a Civil War tome discussing the merits and meanings of Confederate uniforms.