MONSTERS Page 3

  “Who?” I asked, returning the brush to its rightful place in the drawer.

  “The two detectives whose card you now have in your purse.”

  I stood in the doorway to face him. The soft light from the nightstand cast a golden sheen over his already golden tan. He flew to LA every week and had acquired a healthy Californian sun glow.

  “They just wanted some information,” I casually said hoping that would appease him.

  He shrugged his shoulders confused by my indifference. “Information about what? Did something happen at work? Are you okay?”

  “Nothing happened at work, and I’m fine. Really!”

  “If you’re fine, you would tell me why they were at your birthday celebration hassling you. You’d tell me why they handed you their card in case you ever wanted to ‘chat.’” His tone was sharp. In his line of business, he expected everyone to cut to the chase. There was no room for misinterpretation if everyone got their point across the first time. He could be relentless.

  “They just wanted some information regarding the neighbors I grew up with back home.”

  Somewhat satisfied with my clarification, he crawled to his side of the bed, and I got into mine.

  “You said you were from Delaware, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you haven’t been back there for almost a decade.”

  “I know.”

  “So how could they possibly think you’d have any information about the place? You left when you were a teen.”

  My frustration at Peter’s insistence and anxiety over the past had formed a dangerous concoction. I snapped. “I don’t know, Peter! I had nothing to offer them, and they didn’t give much away either. So I don’t have any more answers to your persistent questions.”

  He raised a hand in defeat, and I pushed aside the feeling of guilt. “Okay,” he said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to nag you.”

  “It’s fine,” I reassured, my voice dropping the tone. “I’m really tired from the whole week.” I leaned over and kissed his warm cheek then turned away and switched the light off. Normally, when he was in town, we would make the most of our time together and not one night would pass without intimacy. Tonight, however, I couldn’t force it even if I tried.

  Chapter 3

  THEN

  “Don’t do it, Lucas,” I pleaded, feeling my heart lodge in my throat. “Please don’t.”

  He looked down at me from the tree branch he balanced on. “Why not? I chose dare.” He shot me a winning smile, his eyes gleaming with the challenge. I’d issued the dare in full belief he’d instantly turn it down, and I would win. Now I was scared shitless and worried there would be a few broken bones as a result.

  “Come down and choose truth then. Just don’t do it.”

  “Not a chance, Gem.” Lucas turned back to the higher branch that was two yards away from the one he was currently perched on.

  “Are you ready?” he teased.

  “No!”

  My palms were sweating for him. If he failed to make the distance, he would fall two stories to the ground.

  “Watch me fly, Gem,” Lucas announced while bending at the knees.

  “Lucas, don’t do—” My words were cut short while I watched, mouth agape, as my friend and neighbor soared through the air like a spider monkey, arms stretched long and ready.

  With a cry of delight, Lucas had made the distance, his body swinging like a pendulum until he came to a stop and dangled from the tree.

  While he cheered in celebration, there was a part of this scenario we hadn’t thought through. In order to get down, he had to walk his hands along the branch until he reached the thick trunk. The problem was the thickness of the branch he was currently swinging from. His hands couldn’t wrap around its girth enough to hold his weight.

  Lucas’s fingers were slipping, and his worried eyes darting down to mine. “I think we have a problem, Gem.”

  “Shit! What do I do?”

  “Catch me.”

  “Catc—” I cut myself off and shrieked in horror, “What?” as my feet did an anxious dance.

  “I’m slipping. Catch me!”

  Lucas’s shouts mixed with my screams. His body began its descent, finally hitting the forest floor in a heap of limbs. Running to his side, I rolled him onto his back. He was half moaning, the other half laughing.

  “Are you hurt?” I searched his body for injuries. Lifting his right arm to check for breaks, he groaned louder.

  “Oww,” he said through his pained chuckle.

  Dropping his arm onto his chest, I folded my own in frustration. “Why are you laughing?”

  His green eyes met mine, and my heart pounded for all the right reasons. “Your face,” he said through a smile.

  “What’s wrong with my face?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” His eyes softened. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

  I flopped down, stretching my legs. “You did scare me. You’re too heavy for me to piggyback you home.”

  Lucas clasped my hand. “Help me up,” he instructed, already starting to move. Rising to my feet, I heaved until he was standing tall next to me.

  “Ow!” he groaned, hanging his pained foot slightly off the ground. Hooking his arm around my shoulders, I helped him gain his balance, and together we hobbled to the clearing a few yards away. I clumsily lowered us both to the ground until we were seated next to each other.

  We were on the cliff edge of the woods that overlooked the valley, and further beyond into the neighborhoods. It was our own private lookout, one that took over an hour to get to by bike and foot, and one that only Lucas and I knew about. Over the endless rows of houses, including our own, the sun was setting with its usual vibrancy. Pink and orange shades slashed across the sky like an artist attacking his canvas.

  This was where we shared our happiest stories and one where we revealed our greatest pains.

  “Does it get any better than this?”

  I turned to Lucas whose face was coated with a pink glow.

  “No, it doesn’t,” I replied. “This is our slice of heaven.”

  “Our nirvana.” He turned to me, a smile on his lips. “I have something for you.”

  I returned his smile. “You do?”

  I watched as he reached into his pocket and pulled free the item. I couldn’t see it until he took my wrist and slid on a leather bracelet with a metal face. My heart swelled and I ran a finger over the glimmering metal.

  “It’s engraved?”

  In the darkness, he nodded. “It says ‘Love.’”

  Leaning over, I kissed Lucas on the cheek. “And I love it,” I said, unable to stop touching it.

  We lay down staring at the darkening sky, our hooked pinkies our only connection. Our chests rose and fell in unison, the grass beneath us turning cold as the night set in. My eyes grew heavy, and my breath had slowed when I heard him speak again.

  “Happy Birthday, Gem.”

  “Happy Birthday, Luc.”

  ~

  A familiar voice cut through my dreams.

  It was urgent. Demanding.

  Consciousness dawned, and I shivered from the night’s chill, dew dampening my skin.

  “Gem, wake up,” Lucas sounded again, my body shaking. “We need to get home.”

  We need to get home.

  Shit!

  When my eyes shot open, darkness greeted me. I bolted upright colliding with something hard, an agonizing blow above my brow flattening me once more. I cried out in pain, clutching my head.

  “Ow… Jesus! What the hell… was…”

  Beside me, Lucas grumbled, his hand rubbing his forehead where mine had collided with his. My eyes had now adjusted… moments too late.

  “Shit, Luc. I’m sorry. What time is it?” I asked, wincing through an instant headache.

  “I don’t know, we fell asleep.” Over the neighborhood’s sparkling lights in the distance, an ash-colored banana-shaped moon hung in the sky barely casting any li
ght. Surrounding us, merry crickets chimed in sequence, and the wind rustled the tree canopy.

  We both scrambled to our feet knowing we had some explaining to do back home.

  “Can you walk?” I asked as Lucas tested his pain threshold.

  “Yes, it was just a jar.”

  Half an hour later we were on the other side of the woods and back on our bikes. My long loose hair whipped behind me as we sailed down the hill in the darkness. Despite knowing we had to get home, we were filled with the overwhelming sense of freedom and joy that only two small-town teens trapped within our own imaginations could feel. With one hand on the handlebars, the other holding Lucas’s, we navigated our way to the base of the hill.

  Thirty minutes after that, we pulled into our street on Dangerfield Drive and cruised past the line of houses all with their lights still on, until we reached our own.

  Our joyous reverie was shattered when we heard his voice.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” Mason, Lucas’s older brother, barked as he emerged from the shadows of the old oak tree next to the drive. While the boys were only ten months apart, Mason liked to think he was boss.

  We both came to a stop, our brakes squeaking and in need of oil.

  “We fell asleep,” I said, my eyes narrowing trying to make out his face in the darkness.

  He stepped forward fully exposing himself to the buzzing street lamp. His jaw was set hard, his nostrils flaring. “I’m not talking to you,” he snapped, turning his fiery gaze from me to Lucas.

  “Don’t speak to her like that,” Lucas came to my defense while dismounting his bike.

  The brothers shared similar traits and were almost matched in height. The only difference was Mason bore a grudge against almost everything, and most of the time it was unwarranted. He had a chip on his shoulder that seemed to be worsening over recent months. He was intimidating and was ambivalent to the hurt he caused his parents. Lucas, however, was the son loved by all. He had strengths Mason lacked and while younger, seemed far more mature when dealing with his troubles. He was the savior, always coming to Mason’s rescue and defending the reckless actions of his brother.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, taking a step forward, half blocking me from Mason’s wrath.

  This question caused a violent twitch in Mason’s neck. “Dad’s left.”

  The two words hung loosely in the brisk night air. There was a gut-wrenching pause as their meaning sunk in.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Yes! I heard you. Where did he go?”

  “I don’t fucking know,” he spat, angrily. There was no denying the hurt in his voice. “He’s taken all his shit.”

  “Where’s Mom?” Despite the pain he too must have felt, Lucas spoke evenly.

  “Locked herself inside the bathroom.”

  Using his foot, Lucas lowered the bike stand and turned to me.

  “I’ll talk to you later, Gem.” The joy I had seen in his eyes that afternoon had turned to a sadness that shattered my heart.

  “I’m sorry, Luc,” I whispered, a lump restricting my throat.

  He gave a weak smile and pulled me into a hug where I rested my cheek against his beating and now broken heart.

  “Today of all days,” he murmured sadly against my ear. “Happy Birthday, Gem.”

  I blinked away the tears. “Happy Birthday, Luc.”

  ~

  “Lord, you know how to cut it fine,” my mother’s irritated voice rang from the dining room. I’d walked through my front door lost in a trance that both numbed and terrified me. “Honestly, if you had been a minute later I would have called Sheriff…” she paused, eyes searching my face. “Gemma, what on earth is wrong?”

  I turned to my mother who absently placed the last knife on the table before stepping toward me.

  “I’m sorry I’m late.” The words fell out in a jumbled mess.

  “Gem, you left with Lucas so happy. What’s happened? What’s changed?”

  “Mr. Carter moved out.”

  One hand rested on the chair back, the other sitting on her hip. “What do you mean he moved out?”

  “Mason just told us he’s packed and left.”

  “He left the boys… on Lucas’s birthday?”

  My heart ached some more. “Yes.”

  My mother inhaled sharply seemingly at a loss for words. “Well… that’s—”

  “I’m going to clean up,” I murmured, backing away before she could reach out to me. Taking the stairs two at a time, I reached my room and closed the door behind me.

  Leaving the light off, I headed straight for the window. It was positioned directly adjacent to Lucas’s. A long piece of looped twine connected between in the form of a pulley system. While we were close enough to talk, we opted for the secrecy of hand-written messages pegged to the twine. A tiny cat bell dangling from the bottom, tinkling every time a new message was received.

  In Lucas’s darkened bedroom, the drawn sheer curtains danced hauntingly in the breeze limiting visibility. A soft glow emanating from the hall light, however, silhouetted a motionless figure. Scrawling a note, I folded the paper and pegged it before sending it on its way. The bell tinkled with each pull of the twine until it completed its journey to the other side. I watched a hand emerge from the darkness and retrieve the message. After a few moments, another was sent in return. Squeezing the peg together, I pulled the note free and read the five seemingly harmless words in reply. Five words that caused my heart to pound.

  Me: I’m sorry about your dad. Want to stay at my place tonight?

  Lucas: I thought you’d never ask.

  This was not a typical response. Not from Lucas. I knew him better than anyone, and those words simply weren’t how he’d reply. Squinting through the darkness, I watched the figure push the curtain aside and step into view.

  His smirk said it all.

  Ridicule

  Taunting.

  He held my gaze.

  I was frozen in place with a thudding heart.

  Mason Carter’s behavior was always unpredictable. One moment he protected me like he was an older brother. I’d feel safe. He’d even go so far as reading the riot act to anyone who tried to mess with me. But then, more recently as I had started to develop a womanly figure, Mason no longer saw me as the little sister. Instead, I was more like a tasty meal he wanted to both savor and devour, but then spit me out like poison. He was deliberately intimidating and thrived on my discomfort.

  I no longer felt safe.

  Stepping away from the window, my heel caught my schoolbag loaded with calculus books. It didn’t budge. Earlier, I had carelessly thrown it on the floor, and now as I fell, I cursed my laziness and Mason Carter. I landed heavily, my head banging on the wooden bed leg. Pain shot through my skull, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.

  My fifteenth birthday could be marked as the beginning.

  The beginning of a volatile year.

  The beginning of an unstable and unpredictable relationship between Mason Carter and myself that would continue to fester for many years to come.

  Chapter 4

  NOW

  Charlie: You need to get your ass here, like yesterday!

  What was the urgency?

  Slipping the cell into my handbag, I picked up pace crossing the underground carpark down the road from the gallery. The weather had turned putrid. Its once beautiful blue sky, had morphed into a witch’s cauldron of murkiness. The rain fell consistently throughout the morning, the staircase leading out onto the sidewalk turning into a miniature waterfall.

  “Shit!” I cursed, left with little choice but to get wet.

  Taking the steps two at a time and managing to avoid the worst of the gushing water, I exited at street level. The rain fell like heavy bullets pelting me from all directions, rebounding off the pavement and smashing against the umbrella. By the time I pushed the door open to the gallery foyer, I was soaked through to my underwear.

  “Bloody hell!” C
arleen rose from her desk, her usual headset in place. “We’ve been trying to reach you…” She paused a moment too long. “You look like shit.”

  I felt like it too.

  One look at Carleen however, and I could see she was out of sorts flustered.

  “I want fucking answers!” A booming voice raged from upstairs startling us both. Carleen cringed, her nerves on edge.

  “Is that Maximus Kline?” I asked, slightly confused while wiping sodden hair away from my cheeks.

  “Yes, that’s him. In all his furious glory.”

  “Furious glory? What are you talking about?”

  Carleen hurried after me as I took to the stairs leaving behind a trail of water.

  Maximus’s voice was growing more irate, and David was attempting to placate the situation. Rounding the corner in a hurry, I was met by Charlie who was mid-text, his hands shaking as he typed. He did a double take when he saw me, a sense of relief flooding his frantic eyes. Behind him, Maximus was gesturing widely at the artwork displayed on the main wall, and when I saw the reason behind his anger, I froze in horror. Maximus and David turned to me.

  “Gemma!” Maximus barked, stalking forward and stopping just shy of my face. “When I signed the contract to exhibit here I was told security was tight, and there was nothing to be concerned about.”

  “I don’t know what—”

  “Who the fuck would do something like this? I mean…” he laughed from shock, “… look at what they’ve done.”

  We all stood in line facing the destroyed artwork. The canvas had been ripped multiple times, long vertical slashes tearing through the woman’s face. She was no longer beautiful. Recklessly taken to with a knife, she was now wearing permanent scars.

  “Do you have anyone in acquaintance who would do such a thing?” David asked, working on a process of elimination. “Any enemies who knew you were exhibiting here? It seems very targeted.”

  “Even if I did…” Maximus turned to my boss with a condescending tone, “… your security cameras should have been functioning at the time.”