Every Step You Take: A Psychological Thriller

by Avery Lane

  “I feel like Sierra would’ve killed her if she saw that.”

  “Oh, for sure,” Brighton nodded, eyebrows knitted together. “But that girl wouldn’t have dared to talk to me at all if Sierra were here.”

  “And she dared with me? What, do I not look like I could be your girlfriend here?” Riley scoffed. Brighton arched an eyebrow. Being the ever-sensitive man he was, he seemed to have picked up on Riley’s thoughts. He seemed awfully in tune with the way Riley felt, which served as further evidence that they had more alike than not.

  “You’re right,” Brighton said, taking Riley’s hand again. “That’s actually pretty rude of her.” He gave her hand a little tug, as if signaling for her to get up.

  She did just that.

  Then Brighton pulled her onto his lap.

  She landed on top of him, startled by the sudden closeness and how quickly he was able to just move her entire body so effortlessly. Riley could smell the hint of patchouli, the whiskey. She could feel the hard muscles of his legs press up against her backside. He leaned his forehead against hers.

  Riley tried to get up off of Brighton’s lap, but he held her down tight. He tilted his head ever so slightly in the direction of where the waitress had walked off. With their foreheads still touching, she turned just a bit to look. The waitress was watching them now.

  “You can’t leave right away or it’ll look like a lie,” Brighton breathed.

  Riley appreciated the ruse, smiling as she smoothed a hand over his chest. She swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations that had come over her.

  It was nice to have her feelings validated for once. Nice to not feel crazy. She liked that she could relate to Brighton. That Brighton could relate to her.

  But she couldn’t help but think that Brighton had ulterior motives now. This wasn’t like when he fed her a fry or some hug that lasted too long. Brighton’s hands were now firmly in dangerous territory. She looked down, watching his strong hand moving from her knee to her mid-thigh, stopping just short of the hem of her dress.

  “We don’t have to be that convincing,” Riley said, removing his hand from her leg and placing it on the armrest of his chair. “Besides, she can’t even see us anymore.” Riley tried again to push herself up off Brighton.

  But he held her down once again.

  She could feel a heat rush from her ears to her cheeks.

  Brighton tipped her head up, and before she could move, his lips were on hers.

  There was no mistaking what this was now.

  There was no way she could explain this away.

  30

  To her horror, Riley found herself kissing Brighton back. The alcohol had kicked in on her end now, and she was slow to react. She couldn’t pull away. Didn’t want to. The kiss was at once electrifying and calming. She reveled in the dopamine rush, relaxing into his embrace and allowing him to pull her even closer.

  It wasn’t until his hand slipped up her dress that she jumped from his lap, snapping back into reality.

  “Oh my God,” Riley cried into her cupped hands.

  She ran for the door, her palms still pressed to her lips. They burned, as if hell bent on reminding her of her indiscretions.

  Out in the brisk cold, she was reminded of why she had gone out at all tonight. She wanted to lure her stalker out of hiding. To spot him once again. But she couldn’t even care about that now.

  Not after what she had just done.

  She betrayed Sierra.

  Betrayed…Gabriel…right?

  What were you thinking? she thought. What’s gotten into you?

  Riley started to stride towards home, marching quickly in her sneakered feet before she rushed into a full on sprint.

  Suddenly, the sound of a second pair of footsteps were behind her.

  No. Not now.

  Of course that stupid stalker would show up right when she was least ready to handle it.

  She peered over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of just how far behind he was. Not far enough. In the moonlight, all she could see of him was the dark outline of his looming figure and the glint off the glass of…his thick black frames.

  Brighton? No, Riley thought. It can’t be him. It couldn’t be.

  But was it? Was he just coming after her to apologize or explain? Was it him and not the stalker? Or was he the same person who had been following her all along?

  A cab turned onto the corner of Bergen and Smith. A woman stepped out onto the curb and the light atop the taxi switched on to indicate its availability. Riley jumped into the cab before the woman could even close the door.

  Riley told the driver her address.

  It felt strange now, to tell people she just met her address. Like it could be a danger.

  She wondered how much of her life Brighton knew. She wondered what on earth he was doing following her around.

  31

  RILEY: Where are you?

  SIERRA: I’m at the studio, what’s up?

  RILEY: We need to talk. Are you alone there?

  Sierra and Brighton’s studio was about five times the size of Riley’s office with ceilings twice as high. The floors were cement, unfinished. The walls were freshly plastered but unpainted. It was on the second floor of an old building that housed artists and crafters, woodworkers and metalworkers. And unlike Riley’s unfinished office building, something about the aesthetic here felt deliberate and cool.

  Brighton’s corner had an assortment of tools and a mounted organizer with all his bits and drills, hammers and screws. A jigsaw machine sat below that.

  Sierra’s corner was just a long task table, wooden and polished so the surface was nice and smooth – definitely something Brighton had made. There was a sewing machine on one end, built into the table itself.

  The space was vast and open with the exception of a small storage room and an adjacent bathroom. It was sun-drenched. An arched, south-facing factory window took up an entire wall and was lined with colorful plants that Riley just knew Sierra had planted herself.

  For a brief moment, Riley imagined what it would be like staying friends with Sierra. She could practically see the two of them lounging on the oversized floor pillows by the plants, drinking tea with milk and eating scones with clotted cream and strawberry preserves.

  Sierra held an embroidery hoop when she let Riley in, in the middle of what looked like an intricate, mosaic-like depiction of an elephant. In just a quick glance, she could tell that Sierra had more talent in her left pinky than Riley could ever hope to have.

  She was sad to have to let this relationship go, but things had just gotten too weird. Between her suspicions of Sierra possibly hurting Brighton and the fact that she and Brighton had kissed…it was just too much. Riley swallowed hard, lamenting over the peek into a fun new life she now knew she couldn’t have.

  “I’m so sorry I haven’t been more there for you,” Sierra said, embracing Riley. She held her tight, holding Riley’s head to her chest. The lump in her throat continued to grow. Stop being so nice to me, she thought. I did something terrible to you. Riley let Sierra continue to hold her despite the guilt that crept through her veins. She had to take comfort wherever she could now.

  “It’s fine, I really appreciate the flowers and the texts,” Riley finally replied, pulling away. “There was so much to handle that everything you did was exactly the perfect amount.” Sierra raised her eyebrows as her shoulders slumped forward in relief. It was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Riley was surprised to see that she felt so bad. It made everything she was about to say even harder.

  “So what brings you here today?” she asked. “Did I forget a vendor meeting? I know I’m not exactly the Type A sort of bride so whatever it is, I’m sorry I needed the reminder!”

  “No, that’s not it…” Riley began. God, could she do this? She stared at Sierra who stared right back, looking concerned. If I didn’t tell her, would Brighton? Should I just call off my work with them now? Should I just l
et Marco finish this job? What do I do?

  “Oh my God, I forgot the second payment installment, right?” Sierra asked. She hurried towards a metal desk that sat between her and Brighton’s respective corners. “I only just realized I never got that to you. I’m so sorry.”

  “I…it’s not…” Riley shook her head. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Maybe she should just call off the job and let Brighton tell Sierra himself. She couldn’t take a check from this woman. The job she had been doing was already shoddy considering all that had happened. And that was before she had kissed Sierra’s fiancée.

  Sierra took the check from her desk, waving it at Riley.

  “See, it was here the whole time! I wasn’t trying to skirt payment, I swear,” she laughed nervously. “I’m sorry again. I don’t want you to think that just because we’re friends now that I’m the type to think it’s okay to delay pay or something. I would never do that.”

  Riley willed the tears brimming in her eyes not to spill over. Could Sierra really be abusing Brighton? Was that why he had kissed Riley? Because he was desperate for a connection that didn’t involve someone wielding their power over him?

  She didn’t want to believe that.

  Riley liked Sierra. And not just because she was the first person to take genuine interest in being her friend. She felt energized around her. She felt genuinely cared for.

  Besides, Brighton had said that Sierra was the one who ran off and was ignoring him. Riley knew now that couldn’t be true, since Sierra was right here in the studio. She also knew now that Brighton was a liar, a philanderer. A creep. He was perhaps even the person who had been following her, though she still couldn’t figure out what motive he had to do such a thing.

  “Take it, silly,” Sierra said, pressing the check into Riley’s hand. Riley looked down, noticing for the first time how gnarled Sierra’s hands looked. They were bony, veiny. Like they were on the wrong body.

  To Riley’s embarrassment, Sierra noticed her looking.

  “It’s awful, isn’t it?” she asked, self-consciously retreating to rub her own hands.

  “Oh, no,” Riley lied. “I was just…” She wracked her brain for something to say. “…wondering if all that hand-embroidering hurts.”

  “That’s why they look like this,” Sierra said. “It’s the price you pay for working with your hands for as long as I have.”

  Riley thought about Brighton’s hands. They didn’t look like Sierra’s. They weren’t bony and knotty and gnarled. But they were scratched up and bruised. Maybe he really was banged up because of their work.

  The image of Brighton’s hands on her suddenly flashed into her brain.

  She gasped.

  “What’s wrong?” Sierra asked.

  “I, um…” Riley couldn’t hold it in. “I have to tell you something. I actually saw Brighton last night.”

  “Oh?” Sierra bit her lip. “I, uh…assume he told you we’re kind of fighting.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where did you see him?”

  “He was at a bar on Smith. And he was really drunk,” Riley continued. “And, um, I’m not totally sure how this happened, but he kissed me. That’s why I came here. To tell you that.”

  “He kissed you?” Sierra’s green eyes widened even more. Then she blinked. Several times. Her long eyelashes fluttered. “Was he okay?”

  It was Riley’s turn to widen her eyes.

  That wasn’t the first question she had expected to hear out of Sierra’s mouth after her confession. It was strange. Sierra didn’t even seem upset. She looked like she genuinely just wanted to know if her fiancé was okay.

  God, they must really love each other. Had she really misinterpreted so much?

  “He seemed fine,” Riley stammered. “You’re not upset?”

  “I’m just glad he’s okay,” Sierra replied. “He ran off after our fight and he hasn’t been answering any of my messages. I thought maybe he went up to Vermont. Do you know where he’s staying?”

  “I have no idea,” Riley said. “Definitely not with me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “No, no, sweetheart,” Sierra shook her head, reaching forward to grab Riley by the shoulders. “I know you would tell me if that was the case. Of course you would. After all, you came here to tell me about the kiss so I know I can trust you. Don’t worry.”

  “Listen, Sierra, I’m really sorry about what happened. I wanted to come here today to tell you everything and that maybe it’s best we continue with the wedding planning through Marco since it would be inappropriate for me to keep – ”

  “Oh honey, we don’t have to do that,” Sierra said. She pulled Riley in for another hug. “Thank you for telling me that he’s okay. And I appreciate you telling me what he did. I hope it didn’t alarm you or upset you too much.”

  “What – upset me?” Riley pulled away from Sierra. Was this woman a saint? After learning that her fiancé had kissed another woman, she was worried how that woman felt?

  “It’s a bit rude to kiss someone without asking first,” Sierra replied. It was only then that she seemed to notice the shock on Riley’s face. Sierra laughed, stroking Riley’s hair. “Listen, I know it seems strange, but Brighton’s just an affectionate man. It’s something I’ve accepted about him. It doesn’t mean anything. But you seem pretty shaken by it so I just want to apologize for him.”

  “I…” Riley stood there, stunned. “Okay, then.” She didn’t know what else to say.

  “I feel so much better knowing he’s okay!” Sierra exclaimed, covering her mouth as her eyes twinkled. “I just thought…God, I thought maybe something terrible had happened. I was barely holding it together just now.”

  “Really,” Riley exhaled, still in a stupor. “You could’ve fooled me.”

  32

  “No baby’s breath. She’d rather have no fillers at all than baby’s breaths – she was adamant about that.”

  Whether or not Riley was present, the world had been continuing on without her.

  That much was clear as she stood in the busy workroom of Gail Thompson Floral where Gail herself was putting together a sample arrangement for Sierra’s centerpieces.

  Gail sighed heavily at Riley’s command, plucking out the sprigs of baby’s breath from the bunch of saffron calla lilies. She removed her red wireframe glasses from her face, allowing them to hang from the chain around her neck.

  “I can just tell that this one’s a problem client, am I right?” Gail huffed. “I hope she’s fine with her scant centerpieces because I’m not giving her any other fillers or any more flowers with the budget you got here.”

  “That’s fine,” Riley smiled. It was nice to have someone talk to her without all the tiptoeing and coddling. Gail didn’t know about Evan. Nor did she know just how much of a problem Sierra and Brighton had proven to be. Just not in the way she was thinking.

  “Don’t put my name on these then,” Gail continued. “I don’t want people thinking I’m sending out these skinny little bouquets because your generation has some sort of problem with baby’s breath now.”

  There were whole blocks of hours now where Riley had forgotten about Evan’s death, but in a way that was perhaps a little disconcerting. She had pushed herself to return to normalcy, and in doing so, she would momentarily fail to recall all that had preceded it.

  In moments like this, while talking to the often combative Gail, Riley felt like she had been sent back to a time where she was still happily married to Evan. Where she’d return to her “home office” to finish up paperwork while he cooked her dinner and they’d talk about their work days like a normal couple.

  But after leaving Gail’s and remembering that she had an actual office to get back to, she’d be sent reeling back into her new reality with a force so strong that Riley often felt sick about it.

  It was like multiple lifetimes had elapsed between her marriage with Evan and the life she lived now. But it had all happened in such a short period of t
ime that Riley never got to adjust. She had been Happily Alone Riley, New Office Riley, Damsel in Distress Riley, Gabriel’s Roommate Riley, and Riley the Widow. Now she felt like Homewrecker Riley, even if Sierra had tried to explain away Brighton’s behavior.

  A couple days later, Riley was informed via text that Brighton had returned and all was well. The wedding would proceed and everything would go as planned.

  “There’s no need to do anything differently,” Sierra had said.

  Meanwhile, Gabriel was still texting fairly regularly despite the fact that Riley continued to ignore it all. They were innocent messages, simply asking if Riley had yet to return to the office or if she was around for lunch. He was persistent, but seemingly cognizant of the space that Riley needed. He kept it to one text a day and never pressured her to reply. Perhaps he had taken note from Judy.

  Her first day back at the office, Riley had rushed up the stairs, praying she wouldn’t run into him. Though she was dying to hang out with Gabriel again like normal, she didn’t feel ready. She didn’t want him to witness any more of her messy self.

  The next time she saw him, she wanted to be normal.

  And it wasn’t like normalcy wasn’t returning. Her stalker had decided to take a step back, apparently. Riley no longer felt his presence or saw the flashes or shadows. Perhaps it was because she had actually scared him when she chased him out of that Duane Reade. Maybe she was more intimidating than she looked. It felt kind of nice to think that.

  But with that worry aside, Riley was suddenly realizing how lonely she had been feeling. Having been exposed to so much socialization and then suddenly having it drop away was startling, like she was going through withdrawal.

  So when Sierra invited Riley to join her and Brighton for dinner at their apartment, it was hard to say no.

  It was still strange to Riley that Sierra was okay with what Brighton had done. It was clear now that Sierra and Brighton’s relationship was perhaps equally unhealthy on both sides – Sierra being domineering when they were together, but Brighton being a cheater when he was on his own. Perhaps it was an agreement they had. Perhaps it was some kind of weird compromise that couples like them would come to as a way to keep things, I don’t know, exciting?