by Jami Alden
This was how he would make his mark. No one would ever think him unremarkable again.
He’d been perfecting his methods over the past months. Refining, experimenting, working out the kinks. Practicing to get every detail perfect. Pushing himself relentlessly to that final step.
Click clack, click clack. His ears pricked up at the sound of high heels echoing across the asphalt like a shark scents blood.
He was nearly there.
What if you mess up with this one too?
No. He was ready to go all the way.
He wouldn’t fail again. With this one, he would be able to take the final step.
The woman didn’t even see him ducked down between an SUV and a station wagon as she hurried by. Her keys were out and she was moving fast, confidently, and he could practically hear the script of some dumb self-defense class she’d taken.
Move with confidence. Don’t act like a victim. Keep your keys out as a possible weapon.
Right. As if good posture and a two-inch piece of metal could really dissuade someone determined to take you.
He smiled into the dark. Someone like him. If she saw him, would she even remember him as the man who had passed her on the street twice on her way to the restaurant?
He ducked out of his hiding place and skirted silently through the shadows. Her phone rang, distracting her as she dug in her purse and pulled it out to answer.
He ducked down, less than ten feet from her. Close enough to hear her side of the brief conversation without any trouble.
“I’ll be there in less than ten minutes.”
He imagined himself melting into the inky blackness until his body dissolved, leaving only his shadow. A leather-gloved hand came up, so quietly she didn’t even flinch until the syringe touched the curve of her throat and pierced her carotid artery.
By then it was too late.
Talia woke up the next morning with an ache in her chest that she couldn’t seem to shake. It was stupid for Jack’s surprise visit to have such an impact on her. But the way he’d left, with that half smile softening his face as he said, “Take care of yourself,” it was like there was a finality to it.
Like he was saying good-bye for good this time.
And so what if he was? she scolded herself as she shuffled into the kitchen to make coffee. It wasn’t like he’d been such a huge presence in her life since she’d been able to live out in the open. But she’d always had that sense that he was out there somewhere, watching out for her even though she’d told him dozens of times that he’d done enough, that he didn’t need to worry about her or Rosie anymore.
Based on his visit last night, it seemed like he was finally taking her word for it.
She should be happy. The last thing she wanted was for Jack, a living, breathing reminder of her past, to be front and center in her life. And yet it was still there, that pinch in her chest at the thought that Jack was right here, in town, and would be for several weeks—though he’d made it clear he wouldn’t be making any effort to see her again.
Rosie padded into the kitchen, jerking Talia from her moping before it turned into a full-on pity party.
“You up for hitting the gym in about half an hour?” she asked.
Rosie shrugged. “I guess so.” From her tone, she hadn’t quite forgiven Talia for pissing off Kevin the night before. But maybe they could work it out in the ring.
It had become their tradition on Mondays, the one day Rosario didn’t have class, for Rosario to join Talia for a training session at a nearby boxing gym. Talia trained there nearly every day with Gus Esperanza, a mixed martial arts fighter who had toured with the Ultimate Fighting Championship until he suffered a career-ending knee injury.
Talia had started training with him shortly after she’d moved to Palo Alto. With the thought that it would make sense for her and Rosario to brush up on their self-defense skills, she’d signed them both up for an “issues in women’s self-defense” class through the continuing studies department at the university.
They’d stopped going after three sessions, when it became clear that more time would be spent in a circle listening to a bunch of privileged, navel-gazing girls in their late teens and early twenties cry about how frat boys “objectified” them and made them feel so “vulnerable.”
After a plump little brunette with a bouncy ponytail and Kewpie-doll mouth complained that even seeing images of rail-thin models in magazines made her feel somehow assaulted, Talia had had enough.
For the most part, Talia tried to keep the past in the past. But sometimes she couldn’t keep the pain and the anger that accompanied it from spewing out.
“You want to know when I felt vulnerable?” she cut in, ignoring the way Rosario winced and hid her face behind one hand. “I felt pretty fucking vulnerable when my boyfriend threatened to have my sister gang-raped by his goons if I ever tried to leave him. I also felt assaulted when a psychotic killer drugged me, tied me up, dragged me to his basement, and showed me videos of himself killing other women while he burned me with a cigarette and stabbed me.”
She had stormed out, shaking, furious with herself and those snotty princesses who had no idea how lucky they were. She needed to learn to kick some ass, not give free voice to the fear that she’d finally managed to bury.
Thank God Susie had introduced her to Gus and his training program. A few years ago, right after Susie had opened the restaurant, she was mugged at knifepoint while walking to her car. “I never kidded myself I could take out a huge guy determined to hurt me, but I wanted to at least give him a run for his money. There was a lot of buzz when Gus opened his gym, so I gave him a try. And”—she’d leaned in as though delivering a delicious secret—“I’m wearing smaller jeans than I did in high school. That’s saying a lot for someone who works in the restaurant biz.”
In the past six months, Talia had reaped the benefits, too, physically and psychologically. Her aggressive training with traditional and Thai boxing, tae kwon do, Krav Maga, and Russian Sambo had tightened and honed her body, tempering her once outrageous curves with sleek muscles. More importantly, she reminded herself, if someone did jump her, she’d have a decent shot at fighting him off.
In addition to her twice-a-week workouts with Susie and her Mondays with Rosario, Talia found herself at the gym most other days of the week, even when Gus said she needed a day off.
Somewhere down the line, it had gotten hard for Talia to make it through the day without working up a hard sweat. Self-defense skills aside, it centered her, gave her a sense of strength and resilience that would help her get through anything.
Even things like having Jack Brooks show up and throw her entire existence out of whack.
She slipped on a pair of capri-length stretchy pants, a sports bra, and a high-necked tank top. Unlike Susie and, to Talia’s dismay, Rosario, there was no way Talia was setting a foot in the gym with her abdomen on full display. Even if she could forget about her scars for minute, she wasn’t comfortable showing off her body, the irony of which, given her past, wasn’t lost on her.
If it were up to her, she’d wear an oversized T-shirt and baggy sweats, but Gus had told her straight up it wouldn’t do. “Gotta see your form, mija. Can’t tell if you’re doin’ it right if you’re wearing goddamn clown clothes.”
Talia had conceded, but she always wore an oversized T over the Lycra tank until the very last second.
Familiar sounds and smells greeted her as she pushed open the door to the warehouse on the corner of Industrial and Murphy. Grunts, huffing breath, and the occasional meaty thwack of a fist or foot connecting a blow echoed through the gym. The smell of salt and sweat permeated the air, and gangsta rap pumped through the speakers.
This was so much better than the three-hundred-dollar-a-month private club where she used to train in Seattle. Talia’s muscles twitched in anticipation. She and Rosario made a quick side trip to the ladies’ locker room, which was much more nicely appointed than the rest of the gym would have
suggested. But Susie wasn’t the only one to realize how well Gus’s shredder classes worked to keep the pounds off, so he’d tricked out the ladies’ locker room to rival that of any high-end gym.
She and Rosario ditched their stuff in a locker and went out to join Gus for a private training session. As he had them warm up with jump ropes, Talia’s mind wandered back to Jack.
If last night was good-bye, why bother to come see her at all? In the six months she’d lived here, he’d never made an effort to see her when he traveled down from Seattle for business.
Talia had had reservations about moving here, specifically because she thought it would mean running into Jack more often than she thought she wanted. Though Jack ran the Seattle office, Gemini’s headquarters were just up the road in Menlo Park, which, the connection to Jack aside, did turn out to be a lucky coincidence. Though Talia was all about self-sufficiency in this new life of hers, it was good to have people nearby who had shown their willingness and ability to help her out of a jam.
However, along with that reassurance came the trepidation that Jack might be popping in to say hi on his trips to the Bay Area. But it had never happened, and she knew from Alyssa, who came to Suzette’s at least a couple times a month, that Jack had been here half a dozen times since she and Rosie had moved here.
Last night was the first, and apparently last, time Jack was planning to darken Suzette’s doorstep.
“Ease up, this is just a warm-up drill,” Gus said when she jabbed the focus pad hard enough to make him grunt. He took off the pads and motioned her and Rosie to follow him into the studio to spar.
She was glad, she told herself as she and Rosie circled each other. She didn’t need Jack, with his cool, analytical stare that saw too much. Yet even as he unnerved her, she had to admit something happened to her whenever she got in the same room with him. After all this time, she felt safer with him than any other human being on the planet. She wished—
Rosario’s gloved fist connecting with Talia’s stomach jarred her back to reality.
“So what happened with you and Jack after I left?” Rosie asked, a little breathless as she bobbed to avoid Talia’s return blow.
“He had a beer; we chatted at little bit. He said he was glad we were doing well, and he left.”
“That’s it?”
Talia used her forearm to block Rosie’s kick. “What else would there be?”
“He didn’t ask you out or anything?”
The question startled her, tangling her feet so instead of lightly dancing out of Rosario’s considerable range, she staggered back and fell on her butt.
“Jack and I aren’t like that.” She took Rosie’s proffered hand and let her sister pull her up.
“Okay.”
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just that sometimes when I talk to him, the way he asks about you—”
“Wait, how often are you talking to him? What are you saying about me?”
“Jeez, Tal, calm down,” Rosie said as they resumed the fighting stance. “When we talk, he asks how you are—that’s it. I just thought—”
“Did you say something to make him think I wanted him to ask me out? Because, Rosie, believe me, after everything that happened, I don’t really want to go out with anyone, especially not Jack.”
“Why not?”
The reasons were endless, starting and ending with the fact that Jack had seen her at her lowest point, had pulled her naked and bleeding from that basement. And worst of all, he knew that it was her own fault, her own stupidity, her own bad choices that had landed her there.
He knew firsthand her ability to fuck up. Not just for herself, but for Rosie too. And a guy like Jack, who always tried to do the right thing, no matter the threat to himself, would never be able to forget that.
By some miracle, he’d actually seen something in her worth saving. Talia wasn’t going to push it by asking for more. In answer to Rosie’s question, she said simply, “It’s complicated. But I don’t want you bugging Jack anymore.” She lifted her hand when Rosie opened her mouth to protest. “I got the sense he came by last night to reassure himself we’re doing well so he can feel okay about cutting us loose. Jack has done more than enough for us—we owe him our lives. He doesn’t need to worry about us anymore.”
Twelve hours later, Talia shot out of bed at the first screech of the security alarm. Her heart hammered against her rib cage with bruising force as she fumbled for the keypad next to her bed and entered the code that would silence the earsplitting din.
Ears still ringing, she grabbed her cell phone and started blindly for the bathroom, where she’d spent a week’s worth of tips to install a steel-core door with a bolt lock, the best approximation of a safe room she could put together in her little rental house.
Rosie. She stopped herself just as she was about to throw the lock, and her adrenaline-drenched brain came to life and reminded her that her sister was staying down the hall. Alone. Vulnerable.
Panic propelled her to the hallway, where Rosario stood in the doorway in her pajamas, her own cell phone in one hand, rubbing her eyes with the other. “What’s going on?” she mumbled.
“Something set the alarm off.” As she reached for Rosario, a loud crash nearly made her heart burst through her chest, and holy Jesus it sounded like it was coming from somewhere in the house. “Come on!” She grabbed her sister by the arm and dragged her into the bathroom, slamming the lock home.
“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered shakily as Rosario sank to the floor and drew her knees up to her chin while Talia sat on the edge of the tub. “The police will be here soon, alerted by the alarm company,” she said, as much to herself as to her sister. She tried to force her breathing back to normal, tried not to show Rosie the true depth of her terror. She had to be strong, had to make sure Rosie knew everything would be okay.
The ring of her phone nearly made her jump out of her skin, and she forced herself to take a deep breath as she answered. It was just the alarm company, calling to make sure the alarm hadn’t been tripped accidentally.
“We’ll make sure a patrol car is sent right out,” the dispatcher said after Talia confirmed the alarm was set off by a possible intruder.
“Police are on their way,” Talia said, closing her eyes as she prayed that whoever had broken in wasn’t at that moment sneaking up the stairs, prepared to break down the door to get to them.
Rosario stood and reached for the lock.
“What are you doing?” Talia said, and batted Rosario’s hand away.
“I can hear the sirens,” Rosario said, gesturing to the barred bathroom window.
Sure enough, Talia could hear the sound of a squad car siren getting closer.
“Shouldn’t we go let them in?” Rosie asked.
“We stay in here until we see the squad car pull up,” Talia said. But that still meant she’d have to walk through the house to unlock the door or risk having it broken down.
It was going to be okay. The police—police who were on her side now—would be here soon.
Clearly her efforts to conceal her panic hadn’t worked, because Rosie pulled her into her arms. “It’s okay, Talia,” she said in a tone suited for soothing a baby as she rubbed her back. “The police are coming. Nothing is going to happen.”
“You’re right,” Talia said. Yet she couldn’t escape the sensation that she was being sucked back into that dark pit, the terror that she thought she’d buried once again threatening to consume her.
She stood on shaky legs and forced herself off the floor so she could look for the police through the bathroom’s tiny window.
She heard a tapping sound behind her, the familiar sound of Rosie on her phone. “Are you tweeting about what a head case I am?” she asked.
Rosie gave a little laugh but didn’t answer. At least she didn’t seem too scared, which was good. Though Talia tried to instill some caution into her sister, she was glad the months in hiding hadn’t left Rosie with the unf
ortunate paranoia that Talia only mostly kept under control.
Yes, Rosario had suffered from the fallout, but Talia had done her best to keep her sheltered from the reality of her situation. And while the attack on Talia had scared her, Rosario had been kept away from her in her own safe house so she never saw the true horror the Seattle Slasher had inflicted on her.
Though Rosie was a lot more street-smart than most girls her age, thanks to the lessons Jack and his friend Danny Taggart and his brothers had drilled into her, she didn’t have the instincts for danger that came from experiencing violence firsthand.
Talia hadn’t done much right, but she’d kept Rosie out of harm’s way.
She heard a car pull up outside and slid open the bathroom window. Since the house was all one level and all of twelve hundred square feet, including the garage, she could easily hear the footsteps falling on the flagstone walkway. Seconds later, there was a knock at the front door. “Ms. Vega? It’s Officer Roberts from the police department.”
“I’ll be right out,” she called through the window.
She kept Rosario behind her as she hurried through the bedroom to the front door, turning on every light in the house on her way. By the time she peeked through the peephole, the house was blazing with light, no shadows left to conceal any creeps who might be lingering. Outside, a uniformed officer stood illuminated by the floodlights that automatically came on when the alarm was tripped.
She unlocked the door, let the officer inside, and briefly explained what happened.
“So you heard something banging in the garage but didn’t see anything?”
“That’s correct,” Talia said.
“And you were here, inside the entire time?” Officer Roberts asked Rosario.
“I was asleep,” she replied.
“She got in a couple hours ago, right after midnight,” Talia added. “I waited for her to get in to set the alarm.”
The cop made a note on his notepad. “Okay if I take a look outside?”