Every Step You Take: A Psychological Thriller

by Avery Lane

  It didn’t make it any less weird to her.

  Maybe it was just because Riley didn’t get out a whole lot.

  But clearing the air was something Riley wanted to do. They had continued work like normal, but they hadn’t spoken in person since that day at the studio. There was no real way for Riley to gauge if everything really was okay or if she’d be able to act the way she used to around Brighton.

  Riley had come so close to having her first true friends in Sierra and Brighton. Why’d they have to go and make things so complicated?

  Still, Riley wanted desperately to make things work.

  So she agreed.

  Sierra and Brighton’s apartment was well-decorated and surprisingly lived in for a place they hadn’t even lived in for a year. It was nothing like their streamlined bare-boned studio space. Their furniture was mostly unfinished wood and appeared repurposed which was definitely Brighton’s doing. But the look of it all was softened by the beautifully embroidered canvas draped over it which was definitely Sierra’s doing.

  Their home was a mirror of who they were as a couple – different, but complementary. Gorgeous on their own, perfect together.

  But Riley knew now that they weren’t so perfect. Riley knew that they fought, doubted each other, kissed other people. And so now it was strange to sit with them at their dining table, pretending like everything was okay as Sierra divvied up a vibrant salad dish that looked like modern art.

  “It’s radicchio, shaved Chioggia beets, and grilled peaches,” Sierra explained.

  “It’s beautiful,” Riley said, marveling at the colors in front of her. She had found it surprisingly easy to act somewhat normal around them when she was so fascinated by the beautiful things she was surrounded by. Riley shouldn’t have been surprised by the picture perfectness of having dinner in their home. Of course people who looked the way they did would live and eat this way.

  “Oh, it’s no big deal. Just trying to use up the stuff leftover from my CSA box,” Sierra shrugged.

  Riley proceeded to eat, careful not to stain her lips with the highly pigmented dish before her. She looked up, self-consciously, to see again that Sierra and Brighton had no trouble navigating what she’d consider messy foods.

  She caught sight of Brighton’s lips as the prongs of his fork slipped between them. The cut had almost completely healed and no one would know it had ever been there if they weren’t explicitly looking for it.

  Riley suddenly blushed, remembering what his lips felt like. She knew how he tasted. She still remembered the feeling of his stubble against her skin.

  The memory stuck with her hard, despite the fact that she was both drunk and fearful as she fled that night. He looked threatening as he chased her, but her perception had admittedly been poisoned by whomever it was that had been following her all this time.

  And she was pretty sure now it couldn’t be Brighton.

  It seemed stupid she had considered that at all. There were 8.5 million people living in New York and half of that were men. Another good percentage would be roughly Brighton and Evan’s height and there were enough people on the streets at any given moment that it simply wasn’t unusual that Riley would occasionally feel someone else’s presence.

  Like that first time she had thought she was being followed, it wasn’t even Evan. It was just some random guy who had as much of a right as she did to be walking alone at night.

  But it was different with the man in the drug store. That much she still knew. He was like a textbook example of some shady creep with his trenchcoat and hat. And Brighton didn’t seem to own a trench coat or hat. In fact, he never wore coats or hats at all. He seemed so perfectly temperate that his trusty flannel shirt was all that he needed.

  It didn’t make sense that he would put on some detective movie getup just to stalk Riley. And say he was actually attracted to Riley and had some weird need to know what she was up to at all times, it didn’t make a whole lot of sense for him to skulk around looking for clues about her life when he could just as easily ask her. They had been alone together enough times. And he seemed more than comfortable with sharing intimate details about his life as well as be close to her. Physically.

  “What’s on your mind?” Sierra asked, smiling warmly at Riley as she ate quietly.

  “I was just thinking how incredible this salad is,” she replied. It wasn’t a lie, exactly. It just wasn’t the actual predominant thought she was having.

  “You’re almost done with your Riesling,” Sierra noted, pointing at the single gulp of wine left in Riley’s glass. “Brighton, top her off?”

  “Sure,” he said, getting up from the table and heading towards the fridge. Sierra turned to watch Brighton turn his back before huddling forward towards Riley.

  “Did he apologize to you?” she whispered, looking concerned.

  “What?” Riley whispered back. “No? When would he even have had a chance?” The three of them had been within eavesdropping vicinity the entire time Riley had been over. It wasn’t like they lived in some mansion. It was just a generously sized one-bedroom with an open kitchen. If Brighton had apologized, there was no way Sierra would have missed it.

  “I thought maybe he messaged you or something,” Sierra shrugged. “I hope you’re not uncomfortable.”

  “No, of course not,” Riley lied. “You guys have been nothing but perfectly gracious hosts.”

  Brighton returned with the bottle of Riesling, pouring the remainder into Riley’s glass.

  “Oh, I don’t want to take it all,” Riley insisted. “I already probably had more than my fair share.”

  “We have another bottle,” Sierra said, waving her hand like it was no big deal. “Besides, we already polished off a bottle of our own while we were cooking.” She cleared her throat, setting her silverware down neatly on the placemats under their rustic ceramic plates. Sierra looked over at Brighton, willing him to look up at her. He did just that. “Brighton, was there something you wanted to say to Riley?”

  “Oh, no, please,” Riley protested. She did not need for this to happen. Especially not like this. This was about to be a humiliating experience for both Brighton and Riley. Brighton cracked his knuckles nervously, like he was a kid being reprimanded.

  “Yeah, um,” he cleared his throat, sitting up straight before looking at Riley. “About the other night…”

  “Please don’t,” Riley said. “It was whatever it was and if we’re all okay now, let’s just not do this. Please.”

  “Well, you didn’t want it to happen, right?” Sierra asked, arching an eyebrow as she tilted her head back a bit. “If you didn’t consent to being kissed, then Brighton owes you an apology.”

  “I, you know,” Riley stammered. “I didn’t exactly fight it.” Was this a trap? Was the whole point of this dinner to make Riley admit that she hadn’t exactly pushed Brighton away?

  “Really?” Sierra leaned forward onto her elbows, propping her pointy chin up as she studied Riley’s reaction. Riley looked towards Brighton, as if for clues. Brighton looked just as shell shocked as he sat stiff in his chair. “Brighton, is that true?”

  “I don’t know,” he muttered. “I was really drunk.”

  “And so was I,” Riley blurted out. Would that really cover her? She wasn’t drunk enough to do something she didn’t want to do. She had kind of wanted to kiss Brighton in that moment.

  “Guys, chill,” Sierra laughed. “I already said that this was all just fine. I don’t have a problem with what happened. And I’m actually really glad you guys are close now.”

  She got up, slinking slowly around the length of the dining table in her grey cotton maxi dress. Brighton’s eyes were fixed on her. Riley could see him looking her up and down, checking her out as if this was the first time he had seen her.

  Riley swallowed hard as she approached her. Sierra raked her hands through Riley’s hair, pulling the hair tie off her ponytail as she played with the ends. Riley sat stiff, watching Brighton for any indica
tion of what Sierra was doing behind her, outside of what she could feel on her own.

  The sensation of Sierra’s nails on her scalp felt oddly calming considering how on edge Riley was. She was more than a little tipsy as she continued to look at Brighton, hoping he would say something.

  She knew he wouldn’t though.

  “Riley, you’re such a pretty girl,” Sierra said. “You should really show it off more often.”

  “Uh, thanks.”

  “You have such nice hair,” she continued. “Doesn’t she have such nice hair, Brighton?” Her voice was playful, but husky now as she directed her attention towards her fiancé.

  “Yeah, it’s very pretty,” Brighton nodded.

  “You guys don’t have to do this,” Riley said. She wasn’t even really sure what they were doing, but she wanted it to stop. Now.

  “You should be more confident, Riley,” Sierra replied. “You have so much going for you. You’re beautiful and kind and smart and talented. But you’re not confident enough. You need to work on that.”

  “I agree,” Riley squeaked. “We could all…be better in that department.”

  “Tell Riley what you like about her,” Sierra commanded. Her hands were now resting gently on Riley’s bare shoulders. Riley could see fear in Brighton’s eyes as he looked up over Riley’s head at whatever Sierra’s face was doing.

  “I, uh…” He blinked up at her. “What you said. She’s smart and talented and kind.”

  “Tell her, not me,” Sierra said, her voice harder now.

  Brighton looked down, meeting Riley’s eyes.

  “You’re smart, talented, and kind,” he said. He almost sounded apologetic.

  “And?”

  “And beautiful,” Brighton blurted out.

  There was a pause before Sierra removed her hands from Riley’s shoulders. She walked slowly, languidly towards the refrigerator and pulled out another bottle of wine. As she stood behind Brighton, expertly uncorking it, she hummed happily like nothing strange had happened.

  Riley pleaded silently with Brighton. They were staring at each other now, both too frightened to look anywhere else. Brighton gave a quick, tiny shrug of his shoulders. His mouth hung slightly open as he shook his head.

  “Let’s say a toast,” Sierra said, pouring Brighton a full glass of wine before giving herself the same. She set the bottle aside as she resumed her seat next to Brighton. “To this very special new friendship.” She raised her glass, nodding at Riley to raise hers too.

  Riley’s hands were shaking. She was embarrassed about that, despite the fact that she was completely in the right to be shaken. She raised her glass, clinking it with Brighton’s and Sierra’s before drinking.

  Sierra finished her full glass in a single breath. Then she pushed Brighton’s glass away from his lips and kissed him. Hard.

  Brighton inhaled sharply, struggling for air through the unexpected kiss. It was aggressive. Almost like Sierra was marking her territory.

  But then she got up again, tugging on Riley’s hand to bring her to the other side of the table. Then Sierra sat Riley down on Brighton’s lap.

  Her body felt boneless as Brighton’s strong arms wrapped around her, keeping her steady in his embrace. Riley’s head dipped back, but he caught her and she was thankful for that.

  She blinked through the blurriness of her vision to see Brighton’s face close to hers. His lips. Poor Brighton. He really was just like her. He really was defenseless against whatever Sierra’s powers were over him.

  Without thinking, she kissed him.

  And he kissed her back.

  It was just like that night at the bar. But when that was unexpected, something about this moment felt…premeditated. Even if Riley had technically made the first move.

  She could feel his hands slip between her thighs, then up past the hem of her dress.

  And she was fine with it.

  Riley woke up, her body sore. She was naked.

  And so was the body next to hers.

  Brighton faced away from her, just as he had the morning she woke up with him in her bed. Except this time she was in his bed. Or rather, their bed.

  But Sierra wasn’t in the room.

  It was just past midnight, just four hours since Riley’s last real memory of that strange encounter at their dining table. Where was Sierra? The bedroom door was open and it didn’t seem like anyone was outside. Where could Sierra have gone? What on earth was her deal? Was she some female version of a willing cuckold? Did that exist? Was Riley just some weird sexual game for them?

  Oh God. They had slept together. She had slept with Brighton. She knew that much. She could feel it. She felt embarrassed, trapped under her sheets as she eyed the room for her clothes. Should Brighton wake up or Sierra return, Riley didn’t want to be caught naked.

  God, what is wrong with me? Her heart raced and her throat was clenched. She felt like she was going to be sick.

  Why did she do this?

  Why on earth did she do this?

  She felt for Brighton, sure. She was sympathetic, or more accurately, empathetic. They shared a knowledge of what it felt like to be under someone’s power. And at the dining table, they were both under Sierra’s. But she couldn’t figure out what could have possibly driven her to have sex with him. Especially if his wife-to-be was there.

  But Sierra had to have been cool with it.

  There was no way that she and Brighton could’ve done what they did if Sierra wasn’t okay with it. And she was there last night. She practically orchestrated it. Riley remembered that. Sierra had watched as Brighton carried Riley into their bedroom.

  And she was fine with it. In fact, she looked happy.

  Brighton stirred, prompting Riley to jump out of the bed. She didn’t want to deal with him awake. She didn’t want to have that conversation.

  She found her tank dress under Brighton’s clothes. Her bra and underwear was nowhere to be found. Whatever, she thought. They could keep it as their perverted souvenir.

  This was it. This was the last straw. There was no way they could work together now.

  Riley dashed out the bedroom door, out of their apartment, and hopefully out of their lives.

  33

  The two weeks following her bizarre sexual encounter, Riley became a total recluse.

  She had enough trouble facing the world after Evan died, but after partaking in whatever weird fetishy thing Sierra and Brighton had roped her into, it felt as if anyone who looked at her could see the events of that night.

  Riley did whatever work she had to do from her couch like she used to, except she made Marco stay at the office and do the actual bulk of it. She was overworking him for sure. She knew that.

  Riley was shocked Sierra had the gall to continue contacting her, as if nothing had happened. But every message from her was just forwarded to Marco who had fully taken over their account without question. He was her gatekeeper now. The person who kept all the ignored people at bay. If it weren’t for his constant, dutiful updates and fabricated excuses to all those who contacted Riley, she was sure that either Judy or Gabriel would’ve sent the police to break down her apartment door and drag her out.

  If she could just close this bizarre, alternate reality chapter of her life, Riley would be so thrilled. But since every attempt she made only drew her deeper into further uncharted, outlandishly unsettling territory, Riley figured the only way to handle this was burn it all down.

  First, she was going to let go of her apartment. The one she had shared with her emotionally abusive husband. Her ex-husband. No, her late husband. She didn’t need any memories of Evan. She didn’t need the memories of who she was with him. She didn’t need to remember all those times he broke in, terrorized her, took from her. She didn’t need to think about how his family blamed her for his death.

  Riley wanted to shed everyone that knew her in that time. That witnessed those altercations. Maybe she’d even get rid of Marco – find him a new, better job and just
go it alone from here on out. He’d also seen too much. Dealt with too much. Riley didn’t need that guilt either.

  She began with a single suitcase, throwing in as much of her clothes as possible. Then her toiletries. Her important documents.

  Everything else could be sold, left behind.

  Her heart was racing and her chest was heaving as she rushed around the apartment, stuffing things into yet another suitcase with shaky hands. She didn’t even know where’d she go. Maybe just a hotel or an AirBnB for now. Or God, maybe it was time to run back to Judy with her tail between her legs.

  Or Gabriel. Maybe…maybe she could just get over herself and be with him.

  A sudden flicker of light came through her window and immediately, the flash triggered a deep feeling of dread and anger that she had come to know well.

  Not again, she thought running to her windows and tearing open the curtains. Not that I care anymore. This is going to end. This is all going to end. She stared out at the direction of the flash, defiantly. She unlatched her window, pulling it up so that a roar of air came sweeping in.

  “I know you’re there!” Riley yelled. “I know you’re fucking there so just show yourself!”

  She knew that wouldn’t work. It was just what was on her mind. It was just what she wanted him to do. What she had wanted to say.

  Riley squinted, unsure if she saw anything at all anymore.

  Her heart beat so hard she could feel it in her throat. She felt like she could choke on it.

  Yes, she wanted to let go of everyone who ever knew her with Evan. But there was one person she could think of that would be hard to get rid of. Not just because he was permanently tied to her family, but because she missed him greatly. Because she really wanted, needed him to be by her side.