Letting You In

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Letting You In Page 21

by Nora Flite


  I didn't understand what was going on, this wasn't the situation I had expected to run into. “Tell me what?”

  The door opened, her thin body leaning away so she could motion me inwards. “You better come inside.” For a moment, I stood on the step, simply looking from her pained expression to the living room, then back again. The change was obvious, I knew what was wrong.

  “Where are her things?”

  “Deacon, please, just come in.”

  “Vanessa, where is she?”

  “Deacon!” The flicker of pent up frustration came through, her eyes cold, blue fire. “This is the last chance, come in, or I'm closing this door.”

  My legs were heavy, as if they weren't attached to me. Amazingly, I made it inside, all the way to the couch before my knees gave out. Sitting down roughly, I turned my head to watch Vanessa, noticing how she hadn't moved. “What happened, is she... did she...” Leah left, she actually just up and left California. The idea, it sank into my heart like claws, holding hard, keeping my breathing from slowing.

  Nervously, Vanessa approached, sitting on the rug at my feet, serious eyes fixed on me. “Calm down, she didn't leave the state or anything like that. Not yet, anyway.” Her shrug was careless, indifferent. “I actually don't know where she's been staying, I thought it was with you, until...” Waving a hand at me, she indicated my flummoxed state.

  “Why,” my head was moving in a slow, side to side swing, I couldn't control it. “Why did she take her things and just go?”

  “Because I kicked her out.”

  There were no words, no response to such a blasé, straight-forward claim. Eyeing her in shock, I realized my jaw was hanging open. Closing it, teeth clacking, I struggled to get out a sentence, a single word, to express the emotions coursing through me rapidly. “How could you do that? She's your friend, isn't she?”

  “That's debatable.”

  I couldn't sit anymore, I pushed myself up, taking a step away from Vanessa, staring down at her with aggravation. “What's wrong with you, how could you do something like that? I never expected you to be so--”

  “What?” Limbs scrambled as she stood to meet my gaze. “Never expected me to be such a bitch? Is that what you think I am?” Laughing sardonically, Vanessa folded her arms, shivering with built up rage. “You don't know anything, you don't know anything about me, or Leah, or any of this. You think I'm terrible for kicking her out? She didn't tell you what she did, is my guess. Am I right?”

  “I thought I knew you, Vanessa,” I whispered, unsure how to handle this side of her. “I really did. You're right, maybe I do have no clue what's going on with you. And yes, she didn't tell me what happened. I came here to find that out.”

  Perhaps taken aback by my calmness, she lifted her eyebrows, studying me carefully. “I'll tell you, it doesn't matter to me if you know or not. Leah messed up, she was supposed to help me the other night with packing for my fashion show, she said—she promised she would be here, but she wasn't. I had to do it all on my own, not even Greg was around to help after I left his spa.”

  Remembering the incident was working her up again, her words hot, spitting from her grimacing mouth. “She always breaks her promises. Always.”

  That's it? Leah wasn't here to help with her show, so she evicted her?

  “Vanessa,” I started, reaching out to touch her balled up shoulders. Instantly, she jerked away, a motion like a snake that was thinking of stabbing back with its fangs. Staring at her, the coiled muscles of her lanky body, the way she was on the verge of attacking or fleeing, I hesitated. “Vanessa, listen to me. It was probably an accident, I'm sure she didn't mean to forget.”

  Those blue eyes went wide, the whites glistening in the light of the patio windows. “Didn't mean to? The night before my show, she says she'll be here for me, and when I come back and find her shitty note, you want me to pretend she didn't mean to?”

  Wait, the night before her show? That was when...

  My face burned, yet I didn't mention why I had gone quiet. Of course, Leah had been with me that night, she'd declared her fears to me, then we had retreated to my car.

  Was this really my fault? Did I make Leah break her promise without realizing?

  “Please,” I said, “just give her another chance. People make mistakes, or bad decisions, but she wasn't trying to hurt you.”

  “I don't care if she was trying or not... and this was hardly her first bad decision.”

  “What's that supposed to mean?” I asked, feeling a rumble of suspicion.

  Vanessa looked me over, her mask of fury cracking at my question. “You really don't know anything, do you?”

  Scratching at my hair, my throat vibrated with a growl of irritation. “No one tells me anything! How am I supposed to know what you're talking about? Please, god, Vanessa—just tell me whatever you're thinking.”

  “No,” she frowned, looking away from my pleading eyes. “You should ask Leah about it. It's not my job to tell you about the girl you think you're chasing.”

  “I don't... I don't think I have to chase her, why would I even do that?” She's dating me, the chase is done, right?

  “That's not what I meant.” Shutting her eyes, she shook her head, let her hands fall to her hips. “I'm saying, you think you're chasing someone, but the fact is, you don't know who you're going after here. You don't know Leah, you don't. She might as well be a stranger to you.”

  My mouth twisted, a hard line that was bloodless with tension. Purposefully, I moved to her front door, opening it easily. “Maybe not. But I know she needs someone to help her, and it sounds like the people I expected to do so, aren't who I thought they were, either.” Looking back at her, I saw a glimmer of sorrow in her blue eyes, a fleeting vulnerability that she quickly tried to hide behind a scowl.

  If I had stayed, I might have been able to get her to tell me more. However, I felt that she was partially right.

  The only person who had the answers I wanted was Leah.

  ****

  Calling her phone kept sending me to voice mail, I knew she had to have her cell turned off.

  Or maybe the battery just died.

  The reason didn't matter, I couldn't reach her that way. Frustrated, filled with worry over where she was or if she was alright, I ended up driving around the area on a desperate hunt. Down side streets, down main roads, I trundled along in the hopes I might stumble upon her. It was getting late in the afternoon by the time I decided to search further, running through my brain in an attempt to come up with clues, ideas, anything to hint where she might have gone.

  She hasn't been to many places, just a little of downtown, some of Hollywood...

  I remembered, then, about her scraped palms, how she had run into Greg. It didn't seem like much of a lead, but it was something, and I would grasp onto any straw that I could have. Maybe someone else who's helped her would be willing to assist me, anyway.

  Thinking about Vanessa kicking Leah out still made my fingers crush the steering wheel. It seemed so petty, a cruel way to punish someone for a simple mistake. A mistake I helped her make.

  Frowning, I guided my car towards Sun Healing Center, parking next to a meter just down the street from the iconic fountains of the building.

  My brain was working hard to fit everything I was learning together, trying to form a picture that would create Leah, as if she were some sculpture I could form, a thing to grasp once I knew the foundation. What does Vanessa know that she wouldn't tell me, what bad decisions has Leah made? All the conversations I'd had with the fragile girl ran through my mind, a torrent of words that told me so much, yet so little.

  Her broken family, the poverty, those aren't things she chose for herself... those aren't her mistakes... so then, what else did she do? What else did she tell me?

  I was up the front steps of the spa when it hit me, the clue that seemed so obvious, yet innocuous all at once. She started to mention her last boyfriend, when she was spilling her soul to me. Then she st
opped, she stopped so fast, I had let it go and forgotten all about it.

  That had to be it, the first hint of something that wanted to hold the puzzle of Leah together. Right then, I wanted to talk to her so badly, all I could hope was that Greg could give me some idea of where she could be, unlikely as it was. Stay positive, you'll find her!

  “Hello?” I asked, gasping for air, my body hungry for a break after my explosive run into the uilding. There was no one at the reception desk, the tinkling music of water and a soft, hypnotic beat all that kept me company. Smelling jasmine, sage, I turned in place, tried to decide what to do.

  I don't have time for this, where is Greg? He has to be here!

  Desperate, impatient, my arms pumped as I strode down the hallway, the only place to go. It was quiet there as well, yet over the blood pounding in my ears, I caught a fragment of sound. Someone is here, he probably has a client. Sorry, Greg, I really don't want to be rude, but... At the end of the dim path, I saw a door was cracked.

  Gripping the handle, I meant to open it gently, to lean inside and catch Greg's eye, my mind working a fantasy in which he slipped away politely from his client to help me with some scrap of information. Peering into the small room, I scanned quickly, saw the massage table, not able to understand the scene before me.

  Oiled, sweating, the pair of bodies was not engaged in massage, but something far more carnal. At first, as I blushed with shame and surprise, I didn't recognize either of the two people. One was a girl I had never seen, her moans soft, raw. The man, though, he twisted, as if sensing my presence, looking right at me through a haze of disbelief.

  “Greg?” I asked uncertainly, making the two of them gasp, scrambling to cover themselves. “Greg, what—what the hell are you doing?”

  “Deacon!” He shouted, pulling away from the woman, yanking a robe off the wall to hide his nakedness. With wide eyes, the pair gawked at me, matching my surprise. “What are you doing here, what is this?”

  Shaking my head, I let the cool disdain wash over me, amazed at what I had discovered. “You're cheating on Vanessa. Why would you even do that? What's wrong with you?” Part of me wanted answers, the rest of me wanted to leave.

  The taller man moved around the table, then he stood some feet away, clearly unsure what to do next. The woman behind him looked scared, tangled in the sheets, jerking her eyes back and forth between us. “Deacon, listen, you can't—don't tell Vanessa, please.”

  “Are you kidding me? Of course I have to tell her.” Wrinkling my brow, I studied his face, seeking remorse, perhaps something to let me believe he regretted this. “This isn't the first time, is it? You've been... God, what were you thinking?”

  “It's not my fault!” He shouted, bristling, turning crimson. “She's been so on edge, for so long, I didn't know how... I wanted to... Deacon, you don't know Vanessa like I do.”

  “She said something like that to me earlier, too.” That seemed to make him straighten up, but I pressed on. “Clearly, I don't know you like I thought I did, either.” Turning, I began to leave the doorway, striding down the hall with disgust. Behind me, I heard the woman speaking softly, heated.

  “What's the big deal? You were too scared to break up with her, now it'll happen for you.”

  “Talia,” he grumbled in defeat, “just... please, be quiet.”

  Their voices faded, my steps taking me outside into the growing evening. I was finding out many things that day, but still, none of it answered where Leah was. Climbing into my car, I shut my eyes, held my head, inhaling deeply into my belly.

  I needed to go back to Vanessa's.

  Chapter 21.

  I was probably fifteen minutes from Vanessa's place when I got the call.

  Feeling the vibration of my phone, I ripped it from my pocket, swerving sharply around a curve in the road. Someone honked their horn, but I gave them no mind. “Hello?” I asked, wondering what Carlo wanted, wondering how I was going to give Vanessa the heavy news I had for her.

  “Hey, Deacon,” he said, sounding worried even through the speaker, “where are you exactly?”

  “I'm on the freeway, I can't talk right now.”

  “That's—wait a second, man, just hang on!”

  “Carlo, seriously, I'm in the middle of--”

  “It's Leah,” he said quickly, carefully, shutting me up.

  My pulse rippled, the car skidding as I took another turn too tightly. The fear in my voice was sharp, blatant. “What's wrong, is she alright?”

  “She's fine, uh, she's just here looking for you. Seriously, you don't sound good, what's going on?”

  “Put here on the phone,” I demanded.

  There was silence, then the crackling of the device being moved between hands. The instant she spoke, Leah's nervousness was clear, but I had little time to get sucked into it. “Deacon?” She asked softly.

  “Leah, listen to me.” Rushing through with my stream of thoughts, I almost blew through a red light. “Go to Vanessa's, right now, wait for me there.”

  “But that--”

  “Please!” I shouted, imagining her recoiling from the phone. Calm down, calm down. “Just go there, something's happened, I'm going to need your help.”

  Wishing I could see her face, I instead filled my heart with her whispered words. “Okay. Okay, I'll go there now.”

  “Thank you,” I sighed, shutting the phone, dropping it on the seat beside me. My palms were slick with sweat, adrenaline muddling everything in my senses.

  Too much is going on, focus, one thing at a time. You can give Vanessa the news... and then, after that, you will have your chance to talk to Leah.

  Maybe I would finally get some answers.

  Pulling my car down the back streets, the evening setting in, growing the shadows of the palm trees, I parked haphazardly and cut the engine. In the light of the tall lamps, I spotted Leah, her small frame looking like it might blow away any second. Her arms were wrapped tight in her sweatshirt, her face drawn, exhausted.

  Climbing out, I slammed the door, hurried her way, meeting her before she had taken three steps. Gripping her shoulders, I yanked her in roughly, embracing her to the point of stealing her capacity to breathe. She smelled wonderful to me, it almost made me forget why I had come here.

  “Leah,” I said in a hushed voice, pulling back to stare into her worried eyes.

  “What, what is it?” She asked quickly, sounding terrified.

  “It's Vanessa.” The glimpse of confusion on her face made me push on. “I went downtown tonight... to Greg's spa, to try and find—never mind. I went there, and I saw him. I caught him cheating on Vanessa.”

  “What?” She gasped, her hands covering the horrified shape her mouth made. “No! Oh god, no.”

  “I need to tell her.”

  She said nothing, her eyes shining with the threat of tears. Slowly, her head moved, nodding in wary agreement. “Yes,” Leah finally rasped. “You're right, she has to know. This is—this is going to tear her apart, Deacon.”

  “That's why I needed you,” I said gently. “You're her friend, no matter what sort of fight you're having. You guys are supposed to be there for each other, and right now, she's about to need you more than ever.”

  I watched her expression change, from uncertain sympathy, to the solid endurance of understanding. That was the look of someone who was determined, the sort of face that made me want to swell with pride.

  Her hand moved, taking mine tightly, so that I let her lead me all the way to Vanessa's door. Beside me, I could feel her shivering, a tremor that passed through her breathing, her skin, and into my own. Despite this, Leah knocked softly with her knuckles, heralding us as the bringers of bad news.

  Vanessa cracked the door, staring at the two of us with fleeting looks of distrusting distaste. “What are you two doing here, what's this all about?”

  Looking down at Leah, I gauged her expression, the shift from confident acceptance crumbling into watery distress. Vanessa must have sensed it as we
ll, she was breaking before us under the unspoken clarity that something was terribly wrong. If it was intuition, I couldn't say. All I knew was that the two of them quickly embraced, Leah's words rattling between her choked sobs.

  “Vanessa, I'm so, so sorry!”

  “What is it, what happened?” The taller girl squeezed tightly, digging her thin fingers into Leah's back while she trembled. “Tell me, tell me what's wrong, just say it!”

  As they fell together to the ground, embracing and crying over the pressure of the moment, she did as she was implored.

  Leah told her about Greg.

  ****

  It was sometime later that I was able to step in, to clarify for Vanessa what had actually happened. I didn't want to give details, but she seemed to demand them, for better or for worse.

  “Are you alright?” I asked, sitting beside her on the couch, Leah cradling her on the opposite end. Vanessa was drained of color, save for the bright pink around her eyes, matching her nose from crying. Though she still had the watery look in her swollen face, no tears had been shed for the past ten minutes.

  “I will be,” she sniffled, rubbing a hand over shining forehead. “I won't pretend I wasn't suspicious he was doing this, I told Leah about it forever ago.” Hanging her head, her hair brushing her cheeks, I was able to share a short glance with Leah.

  So, they thought Greg might be cheating on her before. I never even imagined.

  “Anyway,” Vanessa said, sounding cynically amused as she sat up, smiling at me with force, “I just didn't think someone else would discover it. In my head, I pictured either catching him myself, or that he would just break up with me and admit what had been going on.” The corners of her mouth fell, her attention rolling to the floor in thought. “And, honestly, a big part of me was thinking—hoping, that I was just being paranoid.”

  Leah placed a hand on her friend's knee, the strain between them apparently gone in the wake of the tragedy. “Vanessa, I'm so sorry about this. I swear, the day I met Talia, I didn't think...”

 

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