“I guess so, it just, it sucks. I feel like I’m the only one fully committed you know?”
“Yeah, I get that. But he wouldn’t still be with you if something wasn’t there, okay?”
Kat nods and looks at Maria whose making a bit of a scene behind us. She bangs on the door again.
“Perra, you better open this door or the hombre grande is going to do it for us!” she threatens.
Turning toward Maria I fish into my purse and pull out my keys. I hold up the key that has an “Om” symbol written in black sharpie pen on it. “We could just use our key.” I laugh.
“Oh yeah, totally forgot she gave us keys,” she smacks her forehead and I turn around, unlock and open the door.
“Bree, honey where are you.” I call out. The room is darker than it normally is when she’s preparing for a class. Maybe she’s still meditating. She usually does that right before, but the banging on the door should have broken her out of her practice. As I turn the corner into the main room I come to a stop. The lights above the platform are shining down onto a body, prone in and a sea of red. Slowly I take tiny steps closer, “B-bree…” I whisper as gooseflesh rises on my skin. She doesn’t move, in fact she’s perfectly still, lifeless.
I can hear the moment that Maria and Kat enter because their happy chatter slips away as they must be seeing what I’m seeing.
One step, two, three and I can see blond hair. The face is turned away from me but the blond hair looks exactly like Bree’s, only it’s coated in a ruby substance.
No…no…no.... I’m not sure if I’ve spoken because all of the air has left the room. In its place is a dull roar. The sound of a faraway train with a whistle that sounds like some sort of scream. The train gets closer, the blaring scream louder as I take in the giant gaping hole at the base of the swanlike neck in front of me. The clawing screech of metal and heavy machinery rips through me as if the train is running an inch from my head. I can almost feel the violent windshear as it passes at the speed of light.
It’s not a train. It’s the blood-curdling scream that is drawn straight from my soul.
I can feel that I’m being lifted in the air and carried, Bree’s form getting further away as if in a tunnel. At this angle, my nightmare comes to life in front of me, and I am now able to see the message that could only have been left for me.
The words are smudged and swirled, written in my best friend’s blood.
Two down. Two to go.
Gillian
“Where is she!” someone bellows. I’m barely able to hear anything. That sound, that train still echoing through my head.
“My fiancé. Where the fuck is she! Gillian Callahan. Tall, beautiful, redhead. You can’t miss her!” Ah, my love. That’s the sound of a man who loves his woman. Only this woman doesn’t deserve to be loved She’s a killer. No, I may not have held the knife, but I may as well have signed her death certificate. And the baby, oh my god.
The baby. Phillip’s baby.
I’m huddled in between two warm bodies just outside the building being looked after by the paramedics. Both women next to me are breathing so fast and hard it’s as if we just ran a marathon. In the little cave of our three heads touching water seeps, pouring down onto our clasped hands in the center, making the air in our space thick with humidity. Two arms encircle me from behind, but I don’t let go. I can’t let go. If I do, he’ll take them too.
“Don’t fucking touch them!” I scream. “Take me…just take me!” comes out in a banshee wail of terror and grief.
“Baby, it’s me; it’s Chase,” his voice is like cold water over a burn. I turn and claw my way into his arms. They encase me and it’s instant relief. Cool lotion over a sunburn. As long as this man is holding me, nothing else exists. It can’t. His presence is too powerful, too large to infiltrate. Like Fort Knox. The only place I feel safe.
Behind me I see that Carson is pulling Kat into his arms. I don’t know how he got here or why, but it’s right. The only thing missing is…
“Maria!” I hear over my shoulder. Tommy’s large frame and booming voice is barreling along with him until Maria jumps up and dashes into his arms. “Thank God you’re okay,” he whispers kissing her.
Chase places a thumb under my chin and shifts my face until his blue eyes come into focus. “Talk to me,” he whispers then kisses my lips lightly.
Tears rush down my face. “She’s gone. B-bree. He killed her.” The words leave my lips but they sound wrong, twisted, and laced with acid.
Chase’s eyes turn hard, glacial. His nostrils flare and he clenches down. “Thomas. A word,” he says. Maria’s boyfriend pulls back after another quick peck and a hand squeeze. “Where’s the body?” he asks.
I shake my head back and forth. “No, no, no, you can’t see. You don’t want that in your head,” I cry and crumble to my knees. Maria and Kat both sit on the ground and hover around me once more, also deep in their own grief.
“Baby, I have to see what happened. I’m sorry. I’ll be right back. Thomas, get me access,” he grates through is teeth. “Carson, Austin, keep an eye on the girls. Jack, you’re with me,” Chase says to his bodyguard. I hadn’t even realized those men were here.
Thomas nods. “I actually haven’t been in there. Got the call from Austin just after you.”
An eternity goes by but I don’t care. Even though I’ve lost feeling in my legs from being in the same position for so long and my eyelids feel like they are stuck together from crying so much I’ve lost the ability to generate tears. Literally every tear I have went to Bree. My soul sister. The sour taste in my mouth swirls and rumbles like a volcano ready to erupt. Instantly I jump up and run over to a nearby trash can spewing the contents of my stomach. My body heaves until there’s nothing left but the putrid taste of bile on my tongue.
Carson hands me a bottle of water along with a shoulder pat. He doesn’t say anything. I don’t expect him to. What do you say to someone when they’ve just found their best friend murdered. I swish the liquid and then spit that into the garbage can, too. Once the nausea calms, I walk back to the wall where Kat and Maria are leaning. They both look as wrecked as I feel.
There’s nothing I can think of to say to either of them, so I just lean against the wall and wait. Chase and Tommy both walk briskly to us, their faces set in grim lines. Only Tommy is holding out his phone. “Maria, look at this,” he holds out the phone. The three of us girls look at the picture. It’s an image of the top of two bare feet. Only I’m unable to focus on the feet only the blood pooling around them. It’s sticking to the sides of one foot, turning brown in color as the blood dries. A shudder, ping pongs through me ramping up that nausea once more.
“What’s missing on her feet?” Thomas says as Maria holds a hand over her mouth but leans closer to the image.
“Dios mio! It’s not her,” chills skitter up to the surface of my skin at those words.
Kat pulls the phone into her hands and looks closely. “No tattoo…our trinity. It’s not there.” Kat chokes as her voice clogs with emotion, tears slipping silently down her face.
Chase pulls me into his arms. “Gillian, it’s not Bree. I don’t know who that poor woman is, but it’s not her,” he whispers as my knees buckle and I cling to his strong shoulders. Bone-deep relief surrounds me. Slowly I get a wild idea. I pull back and dig into Chase’s pocket and pull out his phone. It’s locked but with a thumb, I move the cursor over and bring up the keypad.
I type in the word that means so much to my guy.
I-N-F-I-N-I-T-Y
The screen comes to life and an image of me stops me momentarily. I’m in bed, my red hair fanned across the white pillows. My back is completely bare, the comforter pulled down to the swell of my ass. I’m sleeping. Nothing private is showing but I glance up and Chase just gives me one of his crooked grins. Later. I’ll deal with him later. For now, I need confirmation.
I dial the number and wait. It rings twice before I hear the most beautiful sound in all th
e world.
Bree. Alive. “Hello? Chase is that you?” Bree asks happily. “ I need to talk to Gigi right now!” she says excitedly.
“Oh my God, it’s you. You’re alive!” The tears I thought dried up have come back in a torrential downpour. It’s hurricane Gillian over here, and nothing is going to calm the storm soon. Maria grabs the phone from my hand.
“Bree, girl,” tears fill Maria’s eyes as she talks to Bree. Our very alive soul sister, who somehow escaped death and doesn’t even know it. “What? Phillip’s awake?” she says awe filling her voice.
Those two words start at my head and work their way down, settling deep into my heart. The muscle swells and warms as I whisper those words. “Phillip’s awake.”
“Gracias, Jesús, Phillip’s awake everyone!” she laughs and I cling to Chase tighter. “Okay okay, hermana stop. We have to talk to you. Who did your class this morning?” Maria’s face crumbles. “Tommy, girl’s name is Charity Kerns,” she says. He nods and heads off to give the information to the police.
Once Kat’s had a turn on the phone the three of us agree that we need to go to the hospital to see her face-to-face. We have to tell her what happened to Charity, her yoga mentee, but we also need to see Phil.
Life and death. Yin and yang.
Please Lord help us get through this.
Chapter 13
Gillian
When faced with death and the very real prospect of losing someone you love, it changes you. For me it’s a sense of self, maybe even a oneness with God and the universe as a whole. Watching Phillip battle to come back from the murky depths of his coma, seeing Bree alive when I thought I lost her forever…it’s more than an experience. It defines you and the rest of your life in a way that’s impossible to explain. I’m just different. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will always carry this experience, hold onto that fear, that overwhelming feeling of loss within me.
Entering Phillip’s room I see Bree, healthy, and most importantly, alive. A gasp slips from my lips as her head turns bearing an unbelievably beautiful smile. It’s one of those moments that hit you so hard with gratitude that it almost brings you to your knees. As it is, I have to hold onto the end of the hospital bed and take heaping steadying breaths. Then, I look up into Phil’s smooth brown eyes and I lose it. He’s giving me the frowny worried face, the one that always seems to break me, when I’m the one that should be worried over him. It’s he who’s been in a coma for the past month, he that almost lost his life because of some sicko with a fetish for an unavailable redhead that’s so pale white she glows in the dark.
“Phil, Bree,” I croak.
Bree takes a few steps then pulls me into her warm embrace. It’s perfect. Everything about this moment is perfect. I run my hand down her back slipping my fingers through her long silky blonde hair. Hair that’s free of congealed sticky red blood.
“Honey, you’re trembling,” she squeezes me and I fall even harder into her small frame.
“You’re alive,” I pull away and look at her face. Tears fill her eyes in sympathy though she doesn’t know why I’m beside myself with relief. Slowly I place a hand over her stomach and a hiccupping sob rips through my throat. Baby’s fine, nestled in the safety of Bree’s womb. Without realizing what I’m doing or touching, Bree grasps my hand looks over my shoulder and then kisses my fingers.
“I’m fine,” she promises then gives me a hard look, moving her eyes from me to Phillip trying to communicate something I’m completely missing.
“Yeah you are!” Maria rushes in and tackles Bree. I let go and move over to the bed. Phil’s eyes are confused but watchful.
“Hey you,” I say though it sounds like the words have been put through a cheese grater.
“Hey, get over here,” He says in his usual bossy way. Something about it, perhaps the familiarity of it makes more tears fall. I get close and he clasps my hand, so warm. I lean down and kiss his dry lips softly, almost as if he isn’t real, then nuzzle his forehead. “You look like shit,” he says to me, eyes full of chastisement and worry. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself. You’re skin and bones,” his eyes hop around my face and neck as if he’s cataloguing and indexing every inch.
“Yeah, well you don’t look so dandy yourself there, handsome,” I joke falling into our very familiar sibling style sparring.
He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the pillow on an exhale. “Did you get married without me?”
I shake my head and smile. “Can’t. Who’d walk me down the aisle?”
Phillip swallows slowly and shakes his head.
“I missed you…so much,” I say before kissing his forehead. With light fingers I sweep away an unruly lock of hair, something I’ve done countless times before but this time feels like more. Everything feels like more when you know your friends are going to stay in your life.
Phil’s brows pull together as he looks over at Maria and Kat hugging Bree as if they’re never ever going to let her go. It’s quite possible they won’t. We’ve been through a devastating morning. I don’t think any of us plan to leave the others for awhile. When I look past the girls, I can see Chase and Carson leaning against the wall. Chase’s eyes are guarded. They skip all around my face, hands, and body as I touch my best friend. He sucks in a heavy breath I can hear from ten feet away. His chin is tight, teeth clenched. More than anything, he’s trying to tamp down his jealousy. Even if he and Phil have come to an understanding over the last several months, he does not like any man touching me. Especially a man who is pulling me down to his chest. My ear lands softly against the cotton fabric of Phil’s gown, directly over his heart. I close my eyes and just listen to it beat. Beautiful.
“We’re going to be okay. I know I’ve been out a long time but I’m back.” I nod into his chest and let the tears wet his hospital gown. Before long, I feel a hand at my shoulder. I expected it to be Chase but it’s not, it’s Maria.
“Cara Bonita, my turn,” she says her own emotions thick in her tone. I pull away and let them have their moment.
Chase holds out his arms. I’m drawn into them like iron filings to a magnet. “Everything’s going to be okay,” I say while snuggling into his chest. The citrus and sandalwood smell fills me with an instant sense of peace.
“Yes it will, I’m going to make sure of it,” he says with a jarring lack of emotion. Leaning back, I take in his face. It’s hard, his eyes cold. He’s working his jaw as if he’s grinding rocks between his teeth. Even though his outward appearance is off-putting, he’s still holding me with a tenderness that I know is solely for me and what we have between us. After one more hug, Chase moves me to his side. “Phillip, Bree, we need to update you on what happened this morning.”
Bree’s eyes narrow and look at each one of us speculatively. “Something really bad happened. That’s why you’re all hovering over me and acting like this is the first time you’ve seen me in years.” Maria and Kat look at one another. I hold my head low, guilt rearing its despicable presence once more. “What is it? Tell me now,” she says with a tightness in her tone. Phil reaches out a hand and cups her shoulder.
I glance at everyone around the room. Kat in Carson’s arms, Maria holding up a wall near the hospital bed, both bodyguards as well as Chase and me. All of us look at Bree with nothing but…sadness. Chase moves to speak but Maria holds out a hand to him. He just nods allowing her to approach this delicate situation in the best way possible under the circumstances. I couldn’t speak right now if I tried. My throat is dry and coated in remorse.
Maria walks over to Bree and takes her hand. “Bree, there was an attack on Charity at your Studio.” Bree’s eyes widen and she backs up a step. “Cariño, Charity didn’t make it.”
Bree’s head shakes back and forth. “No, no, what on earth do you mean she didn’t make it? You mean she was killed?” her voice goes to a high pitch. She sucks in a breath then whispers, “What happened?” Phil pulls Bree onto the bed and she sits in the c
urve of space next to his hip. He loops an arm around her waist. His hand is lying directly over her stomach protecting his unborn child already. Paternal instinct already in motion even though he doesn’t know it.
“The...uh...stalker slit her throat honey.” One of her tiny hands flies up to her mouth, her eyes going impossibly wide. “Hermana, that cut was meant for you. He left a-another message,” she stumbles on the words, the emotion clogging her voice before she clears her throat.
Chase takes this moment to jump in. “The stalker has taken steps to kill both Phillip and now Bree,” he looks over at Bree with sympathy. “This has escalated beyond any investigation my team can handle. The investigation is now being handled by the San Francisco PD. Thomas is still the detective in charge and will keep us apprised of information as it becomes available. Until then, I have a plan to keep all of you safe.”
Maria’s head turns so fast toward Chase it’s as if she was sucker punched. “Oh really? You have a plan? I’m certain I’m not going to like this.” She places her hands on her hips, cocks her head to the side and stares him down, the Italian side of her heritage coming to the surface with a roar.
Chase’s lips are set into a grim line. “No, none of you are. Every single one of you are going to be relocated.” Collective gasps and grumbles start instantly. I stay silent letting Chase handle it. Nothing we’ve done so far has kept my friends safe. I’ll do anything to change that. “I’m going to request that each of you move into the Davis estate outside of town. It has large, high stone walls and the gate and property will be monitored and patrolled by armed guards day and night. Additional armed security teams will be positioned at all the doors going in and out.”
“You can’t be serious,” Phillip adds.
“Deadly serious, just like your girlfriend and unborn child,” Chase looks down at the hand that Phil has over Bree’s stomach, it tightens reflexively, “would be dead right now if the situation had played out differently.”
Mind (Trinity Trilogy Book 2) Page 17