Vicarious

by Paula Stokes

  They’re all things Jesse and I discovered on our own, but Gideon doesn’t know that.

  “Can I speak with Jesse for a moment?” Gideon asks.

  I hold the phone out to Jesse, who quickly wipes his hands on his cloth napkin before accepting it. He says, “Yeah,” and “I will,” and “I promise,” probably all of which are in response to Gideon telling him to watch out for me. Then he hangs up and sets the phone on the table. We pay the check and return to the front desk, where we find out our room is ready and the bellhop has already delivered our bags.

  The hotel room is nice, with two queen-size beds, a big-screen TV, and a small kitchen. I claim the bed closest to the door. Grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a black T-shirt from my duffel, I duck into the bathroom and change into them. After splashing water on my face and brushing my teeth, I head back into the main room, where Jesse is lying on his stomach in a pair of plaid pajama pants and no shirt. His back is layered with muscle, a faint tan line evident at his neck and shoulders.

  He rolls over when he hears me coming. My eyes are drawn to his tattoos. In addition to the initials of his friends who died and the military insignia on his right arm, he’s also got an elaborately decorated skull on his shoulder and an eagle with a Mexican flag wrapped around it on the left side of his chest.

  “Sexy.” He gestures at my outfit.

  I snort. “You too. Don’t cover up on my account. Get comfortable.”

  Jesse laces his fingers behind his head and smiles a slow grin. “I usually sleep naked.” He arches his eyebrows suggestively.

  There’s no way a former army MP sleeps naked. He probably sleeps in full gear with a loaded machine gun snuggled in the crook of his arm. “Go ahead.” I give him the eyebrows right back. Then I yank the bedspread from my bed and leave it balled up on the floor. “You know I saw this TV show not too long ago about how hotels never wash their comforters. The investigators found all kinds of horrible stuff on them—fleas, mites, blood…”

  Jesse makes a face but doesn’t budge. “Did they find snakes?” he asks. “Giant camel spiders? Otherwise I think I’ll survive.”

  “I don’t know what a giant camel spider is, but it sounds terrible.” I shudder. “Aren’t soldiers supposed to zip their tents closed or use mosquito netting or something to keep out the bugs?”

  “Yeah. Unfortunately. It would have been nice to be able to sleep under the stars without worrying about the wildlife or other humans.” He sounds wistful, like he’s remembering an unspoiled wilderness instead of a war zone. “In the desert, there are more stars than you ever thought possible. Ten times as many as you can see here.”

  “I like listening to you talk about your experiences.” I sit cross-legged in the center of my bed. “Even the sad ones. I hope someday I find something I love that much.”

  “If you do, I hope the world doesn’t take it away from you.” Jesse looks over at me from his bed. “It was the one time when I felt like I was doing what I was meant to do, like I had a real purpose, you know? I was part of a team trying to make the impossible possible for people who are oppressed.”

  “Being one of Gideon’s recorders isn’t purpose enough for you?” I say dryly. “We make the impossible possible for people who are lazy and afraid.”

  “I know, right?” Jesse says. “Sometimes I just want to say, ‘If you really want to dive with sharks, why don’t you just tell your fear to get lost and go do it?’”

  I wonder if it’s really that easy for him. “Is now a bad time to tell you I’m afraid of sharks? Normally I’d be already nervous about tomorrow, but I’ve been focusing so much on finding Rose’s killers that I’m too exhausted to worry about anything else.”

  “Your fear is what’s going to make this an epic ViSE.” Jesse’s voice is full of pride. “I love how you’re the kind of girl who runs toward the thing that scares you, not away from it.”

  I can’t bring myself to tell him he’s only partially right about me, that what scares me the most is other people, and that I run away from almost all of them. That the only people I even talk to are the ones who haven’t grown weary of chasing me. That’s partially why I do all the adventure stuff, why no job is too dangerous for me. Because I’m compensating. Because if I do a bunch of incredibly daring things, then no one can call me a coward.

  “What about my fear of elevators?” I ask.

  “You’re not afraid of them. You just don’t like being enclosed,” he says. “That’s a survival instinct. A lot of military guys won’t take elevators either, because being in one is an indefensible position. Plus,” he adds, “no one would pay for an elevator ViSE, so who cares?”

  He’s got a point. And as usual, he knows exactly what to say to make me feel better. “Speaking of ViSEs, I went through another three on the plane. Lucky number thirteen is another switch party. Baz was there. So was Isaiah. He’s only been working for Gideon for a couple of months, right? What do you know about him?”

  “Isaiah is a good guy,” Jesse says. “He was probably recording it too. There’s no way he’s involved in this.”

  “I wonder what Helene would think of him recording stuff like that.” Isaiah seems like a nice guy and he treated Rose like a gentleman. I don’t want to think of him as someone who cheats on his girlfriend.

  “They can’t have been together for too long,” Jesse says. “Otherwise I would have heard him talk about her.”

  I remember Isaiah mentioning Thanksgiving in the recording. Jesse’s probably right. He could’ve made it when he was still single. “Well, I hope the rest of the ViSEs aren’t switch parties,” I say. “I couldn’t tell if the nausea was from the overlay or from making out with a bunch of strangers.”

  Jesse sits up. “Give the recordings to me. I slept so long on the plane that I hit my second wind. I can probably get them all done for you, right now.”

  “But it’s getting late and we have to wake up at seven,” I protest.

  “It’s like nine o’clock and I slept half the day. Just give them to me.” Leaning over the edge of the bed, he pulls his headset out of his duffel bag. He unfolds the spiderlike skeleton and slips it on his head.

  “If you’re sure.” I slide out of bed and give him the music box of ViSEs along with my notebook, averting my eyes from his bare chest. “Don’t forget to write down who is in them and anything that seems odd. The recordings of the Phantasm break-in and Rose’s overdose are in there too, if you want to play those once more in case we missed something.” I still haven’t been able to bring myself to experience my sister’s death again.

  “No problem,” he says.

  “All right. See you in the morning. If you don’t get through them all, we’ll finish them tomorrow.” Sliding safely under my own covers, I give him a little wave and then click off the light over my bed.

  “Good night, Winter.” Jesse reaches up for his own light.

  And then we’re alone in the darkness.

  CHAPTER 28

  Panic claws at my chest as I open my eyes. The furniture is in the wrong spot; the walls have moved. Then I remember where I am. Miami. The hotel room. I sit up slightly. I’m in the bathtub. I know I fell asleep in bed this time—I remember Jesse saying good night to me from across the room. I must have sleepwalked. I tell myself it doesn’t mean anything, that the symptoms were brought on by the stress of my sister’s death. But fear thrums slow and steady beneath my skin.

  I pause in the bathroom doorway to gather my bearings. Just enough moonlight trickles through the blinds to illuminate the outline of the room. My bed is empty, the sheet neatly folded back as if I rose in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom but never returned. Jesse is lying on his stomach, the sheets twisted around his naked back.

  “Nice necklace.”

  I whirl around at the sound of the voice. Rose is perched on the dresser. Reaching up, she adjusts her blond wig. Her red dress is wrinkled, matted and torn in places, and she’s barefoot. But otherwise she looks fine. My
gaze goes immediately to the door that leads to the hallway. It’s closed. Bolted.

  I lift a hand to my neck—the rose pendant hangs in the hollow of my throat, even though I know I wasn’t wearing it when I went to sleep. “You’re not real,” I whisper, glancing over at Jesse again. He mumbles something but doesn’t wake.

  “Of course I am,” she says.

  “No. You’re not really here. You’re dead.”

  “Do you want me to be dead?”

  “What kind of question is that? You know I don’t.” Tentatively, I reach out for her with one hand. I half expect my fingers to pass right through her forearm, like she’s a ghost. But she feels solid. Warm even. She rotates her arm and touches her hand to mine—the scars on our palms line up.

  There is something very right about that.

  “Gideon-oppa says I make my own reality sometimes to avoid the truth.”

  Rose flicks her wrist as if she’s batting away my concerns. “You have more important things to worry about. You’re in danger, little sister.”

  “Danger?”

  Before she can respond, the door to the hallway creaks open and a dark figure bleeds into the room. Rose’s eyes grow wide. “Run,” she says. She throws herself at the menacing form. He grabs her by the hair. Lightning flashes from outside the window and I recognize the intruder. It’s the one-eyed man from my dreams. He’s holding a knife. With one violent thrust, Rose’s body goes limp.

  “No!” I scream. I lunge for him and then he turns toward me. I lash out with my fists and feet, but they glance harmlessly off his muscular frame. It’s like punching stone.

  He tosses me back onto the bed like I am made of feathers. His face leans low. I reach up and jab at his empty eye socket. My fingers penetrate the skin, slipping inside the gaping flesh. For one horrifying second I feel my body being pulled into his.

  I yank my arm back. “Let me go!”

  “Winter,” he says calmly. He’s pinning me against the bed now, his hands firmly cupping my shoulders, one knee bracing my legs.

  I scream again but he doesn’t relax his hold.

  “Wake up, Winter.”

  Gasping, I open my eyes to see it’s Jesse holding me, not the one-eyed man. When he releases me, I sit up so quickly I nearly tumble off the end of the bed. My throat feels like I swallowed a bucket of sand. I can manage only a single word: “Rose.”

  Jesse sits next to me on the mattress. He rubs my back as I slowly choke out what I saw. “It was just a dream,” he murmurs.

  I let my head dip low, my hair fall forward to hide my eyes. Then I turn and bury my face in his chest, his bare skin cool against the hot tears beginning to fall. “It felt so real, like I watched her die,” I say. “And that man was there—the one from Phantasm.”

  “Shh.” Jesse strokes my hair. “We’ll find him, okay? I promise I’ll help you figure everything out.” Slowly, he lays me back down and arranges the covers around me. Then he rises to return to his own bed.

  “Could you maybe…” I trail off, struggling to form the words. Eventually I just pat a spot on the mattress next to me. “Just for the rest of the night?” My voice hitches.

  He nods soberly. “If you want.” He slides under my covers.

  I turn to face him. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “Come here.” He pulls me close, curling his arms around me. For a second I’m scared. The tight embrace reminds me of too many terrible memories from when I worked for Kyung. But Jesse’s not touching me like the men used to. He’s just holding me, stroking my hair. Over and over until I feel calm. By the time my breathing is back to normal, I have molded my body to his. Our heartbeats have fallen into an easy rhythm, their overlapping cadence comforting me.

  My eyes are even with his collarbone. I watch it rise and fall with each breath he takes. I slow my breathing even further to match his, and finally I feel safe. It’s like we’re on a ship, a ship inside of a bottle, the rest of the world locked away outside the glass.

  A soft aching spreads throughout me. I could lift my chin, so easily, and pull Jesse’s head toward mine. Kiss him. I could touch my lips to his and just let go—let him have control. Maybe it’s what I need. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel alone anymore. Being with him like this feels so familiar, so right. A hard breath escapes my lips.

  Jesse’s chin tucks against his neck as he looks down at me. “You okay?”

  I hide my face in his chest. “I think so.”

  “You want me to move?”

  “No.”

  He lifts up on one arm, brushes my hair back from my face, and gives me a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Go to sleep, Winter. I’ll keep the bad dreams away.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Jesse’s still sleeping when I wake a few hours later. Surprisingly, I feel rested. No more nightmares with him beside me. His arm is heavy across my middle. I slide out from his loose embrace and head for the bathroom.

  The scalding water of the shower brings the real world into focus. All I can think about is Jesse. His naked chest. The twining scents of sweat and evergreen deodorant. The part of me that so easily replaced a nightmare about my sister with desire for something else.

  I dry off and wriggle into my swimsuit, a one-piece navy racing suit I bought for a previous job. The bruises on my neck have gone from purple to an ugly greenish color. Maybe I can put on my wet suit without the dive operators noticing. In the meantime, I layer a hooded sweatshirt and a pair of warm-up pants on top of my suit. I know it’s warm outside, but I’ve been on boats before and the wind can get chilly, especially after the dives when I’m wet. I peek at myself in the mirror and add my standard smudges of black eyeliner.

  When I finish in the bathroom, Jesse is sitting at the foot of his bed, a small leather case of toiletries dangling from his right hand.

  I can’t quite meet his eyes. “The shower is all yours,” I say.

  When he’s finished getting ready, we head downstairs and order a quick hotel breakfast of cereal and fruit. I cut my pineapple into smaller and smaller bites while Jesse eats and makes small talk. I’m still finding it hard to look at him.

  Finally he touches my shoulder. “Did you sleep better—”

  After you got in bed with me? “Yes,” I say quickly.

  “Glad I could help,” he says. Then he continues, “I played all the remaining ViSEs after you crashed out—one cage dancing, one as an extra in a music video, one swimming with dolphins, the rest with Andy Lynch.” He rolls his eyes. “I think that dude might have a drinking problem, but other than that, nothing really stood out to me.” He crunches a big spoonful of cereal. “And nothing on the overdose or Phantasm one either. I mean, obviously they changed their door code, and that’s the only private info we recorded. What if the ViSEs are a dead end? Maybe we should concentrate on identifying the man from your dreams. You could ask Gideon if he’s someone from your past. Maybe if you know who he is, then he’ll stop haunting you.”

  He’s right. Gideon will be angry that we disobeyed him and went snooping around Phantasm, but if he can give me answers that help me sleep, it will be worth it. I never expected the one-eyed man to be real—I need to know who he is. “Good idea,” I say. “Thanks for helping.”

  A Jeep Cherokee pulls up outside. A tall guy gets out and heads toward the front door of the hotel.

  “I think that’s our ride.” Jesse pats his pocket and frowns. “I’ve got to run back to the room for a second. Tell them I’ll be right there.”

  “All right.” Blotting my mouth with a napkin, I grab my gear bag and intercept the tall guy in the hotel lobby. “I’m Winter,” I say. “Jesse will be right down.”

  The guy reaches out to shake my hand, and I resist the urge to pull it away. His grip is tight but his smile is friendly. “I’m Eli,” he says. “Sam is outside.”

  Sam and Eli are brothers whom Gideon has hired for other diving ViSEs. They have experience taking tourists out to watch dolphins and to cage dive with different species of shar
ks.

  I loiter in the parking lot of the hotel until I can see Jesse making his way through the lobby. Then I step up into the vehicle and slide my way along the wide bench seat.

  Jesse exits out into the sun with his folded recorder headset dangling from his hand. He slides into the back of the Jeep next to me.

  I poke him in the ribs. “Kind of an important thing to forget.”

  He leans in close so only I can hear him. “I spent the night with this hot chick,” he says. “Sorry if I’m a little distracted.”

  I blush. “As long as you focus when we start playing with sharks.”

  Jesse grins. “You really are scared, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  He slips his hand around mine and squeezes my fingers. “I won’t let anything happen to you—I promise.”

  Eli looks back over his shoulder and smiles at us. “Ah. Young love.”

  I swallow back a lengthy explanation about how it isn’t what it looks like, how Jesse and I are just friends. I don’t even understand what’s happening between us. I definitely don’t know how to explain it to anyone else.

  Jesse doesn’t say anything either. He just squeezes my hand again and smiles to himself.

  Sam navigates the traffic with surprising ease and in about ten minutes we pull up at the Miami Beach training facility. Eli spends a few minutes going over all of the safety contingencies related to both diving and sharks while Sam fetches gear for all four of us. He returns with a cart of air tanks, harnesses, wet suits, fins, and even neoprene booties that he says will keep our feet warm if we’re in the water for an extended period. I feel a burst of relief when he hands Jesse and me each a titanium diver’s knife, but then he makes a point of saying the knives are useless against the sharks. They’re more for cutting ourselves free of netting or kelp if we get tangled.