Never Letting Go (Delphian Book 1) (4 page)

Dante patted me on the head, then waved farewell. “I’ll be back in a bit. We should get you some shoes,” was the last thing I heard him mumble as he walked down the hallway and disappeared around a corner.

I stood there a moment, then slowly raised my hand to the same spot where Dante had touched.

It had felt … nice.

I
KNEW
B
RIGGS
was staring at me from behind. I could feel the heat coming off his intense gaze, landing somewhere between my shoulder blades from where he sat on the metal rungs near the front entrance. I remained seated, not glancing his way, keeping my eyes on the television in front of me, trying not to shudder from the attention.

Waiting.

It was now late evening. Both Briggs and Dante had returned hours earlier, Dante with food and Briggs with his usual sour expression. Kaede and Amy had kept me mildly entertained with stories about their past, and about reality television shows starring less than appropriately dressed characters. I wondered if this was how they usually spent their days, lounging around.

I wondered what their purpose was.

Sandwiched between Amy and Kaede, they were watching the current show intently, Kaede’s right leg fidgeting against the couch while Amy bit her bottom lip, anticipation clearly on her face over what would happen next. Although my gaze too was on the television screen, my focus was on Briggs. I found him challenging to decipher.

All the others were open books. Amy was innocent, naïve about the world, seeming younger than her nineteen years. Pure. Kaede was wary but approachable. An old soul. Dante was safe, kindhearted. Trustworthy.

But Briggs was different.

For some reason I couldn’t read him and I wanted to know why. I tilted my head and slowly turned around until I stared directly into his dark-framed sunglasses. We stayed like that, neither of us looking away, until he finally broke contact and stood, walking down the hallway until I heard the door to his bedroom slam shut.

I flinched.

“Ignore Briggs,” said Dante with a kind smile. He had been silently watching the entire interaction between the two of us on the other couch. I glanced over at him, seeing a look of exasperation on his face and he rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t like people—don’t take it too personally.”

He walked over and squeezed my shoulder. “Frankly, I enjoy you being here, despite the fact that you don’t talk,” he ended with a wink.

I remained quiet, staring at him silently. For some reason I wanted to communicate with these people instead of just the nods and shakes of the head. I found it irregular that I was unlike them and didn’t know why. Dante was just about to walk away when I grabbed him by the wrist. He stiffened and looked back at me, as did Amy and Kaede.

I realized it was the first time I had initiated contact in the short time that I had been with these people, not counting when I had awaken Dante’s sleeping form. To them, it was a strange act for me to do.

I glanced around the room, looking for something that could assist me. Zeroing in on what I was looking for, I released Dante’s hand and stood up. I walked over to the television stand and picked up a pad and stray pen. I attempted to write out a sentence.

I didn’t get very far.

I looked down at the symbols that I wrote instead of text. I tried again, placing the pen on the paper, focusing on getting the words in my mind on paper. I didn’t see Dante glancing over my shoulder, trying to make out the words that I was trying to write but with no success. He slowly reached out a hand and carefully took the pen and pad as I stood there, frozen.

I realized it would be more difficult to express my thoughts to these people than I had originally thought.

Amy got up from the couch, looking at the expression on my face. Standing next to her brother, she glanced down at the scratch marks that I had written on the pad of paper. “It’s okay, Mia. You don’t have to know how to write or talk here.”

“Yeah. Amy will do enough talking for the both of you,” remarked Kaede, who was still sitting on the chair, munching on a bag of chips.

Amy turned as she glared at Kaede. “I’m trying to make Mia feel better here.” She grabbed the pad from Dante’s hand and threw it roughly at Kaede.

Kaede, seeing the oncoming assault, ducked for cover as he nibbled on a chip. Standing up leisurely, he gave a wink. “Love you too, Ames.”

I felt a pat on my arm as I turned away from Amy, whose cheeks were suddenly becoming a rosy color. Dante looked down at me with a smile. “Amy’s right. In time you’ll probably remember everything, probably be able to write and talk again. I’m no doctor but I’m guessing that injury at the back of your head must have shaken you up. You should be fine in no time.”

I remembered the injury that I had sustained and impulsively reached for the back of my head. It was still tender but tolerable; I didn’t think that was the cause of my memory loss. To think that all the answers and questions I had were locked up in my own mind was quite disheartening. I frowned as I felt what could only be described as sadness overtake me.
Sadness.
I was able to feel real emotions and not the sterile thoughts that I’d had when I had first woken up.

A hand reached up to touch my cheek and I looked up to see Dante wipe away liquid that had fallen on my face. It took a moment to register that the liquid was coming from me.

Tears.

Dante looked down at me with distressing blue eyes. It made me pause. He looked tired. I didn’t know exactly why but something akin to guilt pierced my heart; I was most likely the cause for his fatigue.

I shook my head, not enjoying or comfortable where my thoughts were leading me. I had to get away from all these feelings I was suddenly experiencing. So I smiled, that same smile I had practiced in front of the bathroom mirror. Then I nodded to Dante and walked away, exiting to my tiny bedroom. My only place of escape, really.

As I shut the door quietly behind me, I sank my body down to the ground and sat on the floor, my back pressed against the bedroom door, cradling my head in my hands.

I wanted to remember.

Frustrated, my eyes squeezed tightly, I started pounding my head with my hands, trying to force myself to remember anything from my nonexistent past, where I came from, who I was.

All of a sudden, something butted against my behind and I looked down to see a piece of folded paper that had slid under the door. I hesitantly reached for the paper and read:

Fear not the unknown.

For out of recognizing

fear comes wisdom.

I sat there staring at the words with the paper clutched tightly in my hand. I immediately thought of Dante, whose kindness was written all over the page.

He was right.

Eventually I would understand all of this, why my memories were wiped clean away and how I had ended up in this place. For now, I would just have to go through the process of recovering myself.

It finally clicked in my mind that even though I couldn’t write, I could clearly read these words written in front of me.

I got up from the floor and made my way to the bed, lying on my back. Staring up at the ceiling, I clutched the piece of paper in my hand. None of this seemed real: not even lying on this bed. The only thing that seemed authentic was the piece of paper I held in my hand.

Fear not the unknown. For out of recognizing fear comes wisdom.

And because these simple words were the only thing that seemed real, I would listen to it, I would not fear what was to come. Eventually I would figure out what was going on.

It would be revealed to me.

There was a light knock on my door and I looked up to see the door slowly opening. Dante peeked his head through, smiling.

“How you feeling, Mia?”

I sat up in bed, watching him enter the room and close the door behind him. I tucked the note underneath the pillow and stared back at him expectantly.

He was holding a pair of shoes.

He must have noticed where my attention was because he looked down, then sat next to me.

“Here,” he said, placing the shoes in my lap.

I peeked down and saw white tennis shoes with bright yellow and green laces.

He had bought me shoes.

“I noticed that you didn’t have any,” he said sheepishly with a half-smile. “Thought I’d buy you a pair in case you wanted something on your feet other than socks.”

I glanced at the shoes a final time then to thank him, placed them on my feet. I rose from the bed, then took a couple steps.

They fit.

“They fit,” Dante exclaimed, smiling. “I didn’t know if I got the right size or not but you seemed a little smaller than Amy and I know Amy’s size so I got one size down.”

I stared, unblinking, at him.

“And just to let you know, I tried looking you up. You know, any missing person’s reports that fit your description. I couldn’t find anything but I’ll keep you posted in case something comes up. You have to be reunited with your loved ones, right?”

He laughed again, scratching his head. “I’m beginning to sound like Amy, aren’t I? Blabbing on and on. Anyway, I’ll leave you to your room.” He glanced down at my shoes.

“And your new shoes.”

As quickly as he came, he left, and I was left standing alone. I glanced down at my shoes, then toward the door.

Loved ones.
At the thought, I swear, the tattoo on my shoulder tingled and I rubbed it absentmindedly. I took off the shoes then placed them at the foot of my bed. Sinking to the floor, I leaned my head against the wall.

I knew on the other side of that wall was Briggs. Faintly, I could hear the rumbling of his voice, as if he were talking to himself. Perhaps he was mirroring my position, only the wall separating us.

Rising so I knelt, I turned, then placed my palms flat against the wall. I closed my eyes and pictured Briggs as I saw him last: dark and foreboding. I tried focusing on that deep, yet surprisingly soothing voice when it wasn’t shouting at you. A man who didn’t want to let people in, yet for some reason ignited a curiosity in me that I couldn’t fight.

When I opened my eyes again, they widened slightly when I realized I was no longer in my room.
How can that be?
Heart beating rapidly, I rose to my feet, and looked around the unfamiliar room. My eyes widened when I saw I was no longer alone.

Briggs sat on the edge of the bed facing forward, toward
me
. I held my breath and waited for his voice to pierce my ears in rage and confusion as to
how
I had gotten into his room. But nothing happened. I turned and realized he wasn’t staring at me but
through
me. He looked at himself in the mirror, his birthmark deep red, and he still wore those sunglasses that hid his soul from prying eyes.

I glanced away from his reflection to look back at Briggs. Then I walked closer to him, again wondering how this was possible. I had somehow managed to jump from my room to Briggs’ room, and now I was invisible to his eyes.

His door suddenly burst open and I froze, then relaxed when I saw it was only Dante. He couldn’t see me either. Shutting the door behind him, I watched him stare at Briggs. They said nothing to each other, my eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them.

Dante finally caved. “Seriously, Briggs. You need to learn to relax.”

“I can relax.”

Dante stared after him in disbelief. “I feel like your version of relaxing is murdering puppies in your sleep.”

“Ha ha,” Briggs said with a smirk then, “I think you should be taking your own advice, my friend.”

Dante stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Briggs just gave him a look. “Sure. Don’t worry. I’ll keep your secret nice and safe. I have a thing for secrets.”

Dante didn’t respond, just stared back at him. Then he exhaled sharply, almost in defeat. He moved and sat next to Briggs. Briggs in return gave him a few pats on the back while the two sat on in silence.

I was invading their privacy, and felt the need to leave, so I went back to the wall separating Briggs and my room and tried the same thing as before: I closed my eyes, pressed my palms against the surface, and waited.

When I opened my eyes I was back in the safety of my room. I turned and stared hard at the wall before me. This wasn’t normal. Not everyone could just walk through walls like it was an everyday occurrence. Something was off—
I
was off.

I didn’t know this world that I was in, and I didn’t know who or what I was. I didn’t know what Briggs and Dante were talking about, and I didn’t know why I couldn’t remember anything. But I knew one thing for certain.

I would soon find out.

I
T HAD BEEN
exactly one week since I was first discovered. Five days since I found out my talent for walking through walls.

A routine began to take place with the five of us in this short time. It was like I had always been here, and sometimes it was nice to forget that I had no past at all.

Of course, I never told anyone about this new secret of walking through walls. As Briggs had mentioned to Dante, this apartment seemed to be a place full of secrets. So I would keep this one to myself. That night had been the only time I used this ability of mine.

Amy and I always stayed within the apartment, either Dante or Kaede with us while the other worked. I learned through their many discussions that the two worked shifts in a restaurant, both as chefs. Of course, business was slow with the kidnappings, multiple female bodies being discovered in the city, and just overall chaos that the world seemed to be experiencing at this precise moment—people feared eating out. But it would have to make do.

Amy actually had an online business making made-to-order cupcakes from scratch. She was saving up to attend university. She would get orders from the Internet and make whatever they asked for, whether that be vanilla or red velvet cupcakes. I became a taster of her treats and found they were quite delicious; my favorite was her mint chocolate. I even began helping Amy with making the orders, getting everything prepped, even learning how to crack an egg, although it took a few tries before I mastered the task.

So we all seemed to have a role. Except for Briggs. Yes, when the time came, he would venture out to buy the necessary groceries and miscellaneous things that needed to be bought, but that seemed to be all—everything else was a mystery to me. I watched them all and found that Briggs was secretive: he would leave for hours on end, no one knowing where he went. What I found strange was that no one seemed to be curious or even care about his endeavors except for me—they seemed to accept his comings and goings as if they were normal.

He wasn’t as cruel, mean, as he was in the beginning. His mood had seemed to calm down a bit, his frown replaced with a complacent look. When he stared at me, I don’t think it was with hatred, but blatant oddity about what to make of me. He and I seemed almost alike as he inspected me like some sort of lab experiment, wondering what the results would be.

Would I thrive in this new environment or perish?

I would always feel his eyes on me. Whenever I would look into his face (of course, with my reflection staring back at me through his sunglasses) he didn’t look away. Instead, he continued to stare until it was I who looked away.

I realized then that I really was beginning to develop emotions—almost like I was learning them all over again. I had curiosity down, a twinge of guilt, slight frustration. But now I felt something else.

Apprehension.

The gnawing at the back of my head wouldn’t go away and I was almost desperate to feed my curiosity. So of course, when I received the chance to answer the question that is Briggs, there was only one option.

I took it.

For some reason I couldn’t sleep that night. When I heard the creak of a bedroom door hit my ears, I had a feeling it would be Briggs. I waited a few seconds, then flicked the sheet away from my body and gingerly stepped down onto the cool wooden floor. I decided now might be the perfect time to use my newfound abilities again, so I pressed my hands and head against the door. I took a deep breath then braced myself as I slowly moved my head through the surface. My head popped on the other side just in time to see the front door closing behind Briggs. Without hesitation, I transferred the rest of my body though the door, grabbed a jacket that has been flung over the couch, and slipped my bare feet into the pair of shoes Dante had bought for me. Rushing up the metal rungs, I ran though the front door, stepping out into the main hallway.

I was definitely getting the hang of this.

As soon as I looked down the hallway, Briggs turned a corner and I jogged down the hall, following suit. He took the stairs, going through the exit door, so I carefully walked through the door to the stairwell.

I was on the sixth floor.

I stayed back from Briggs by two flights of stairs, staying against the wall so he wouldn’t see me. There were times when I thought he had spotted me, for I heard his steps slow. I imagined him looking up, wondering if another person was with him, so I slowed my steps as well, waiting for him to begin walking again.

I finally reached the first floor and walked through the door that led me outside. It was becoming instinctive now. The more I did it, the more my body seemed to feel light, more alive in some way.

The sudden rush of wind that hit my body surprised me and I was glad I had the jacket. I wrapped myself tightly with it, burrowing my fingers inside the long sleeves. Breathing in the strong air, I looked ahead to see that Briggs had crossed the street and walked diagonally across a grassy surface.

Even from this distance, and with the night as dark as it was, I could see his feet shuffling into the earth. I followed him a distance away, wondering where he was heading, and almost regretting coming out in the first place with the knowledge of some unknown abductor lurking in the shadows. I knew it was a foolish thing to do but wanting to know where Briggs left to go on a nightly basis was the only thing I could think of.

The open grass field led to a pathway with a steep hill. Upon seeing the view on the other side, I stopped suddenly. There were rows upon rows of headstones laid atop the cool grass. As I continued to stare at the peculiar view in front of me, I realized that I was looking at a burial ground.

“What are you doing here?”

I gave a start at the deep voice that had rumbled close to my ear and looked to my left to see Briggs standing casually beside me. Of course I didn’t speak a word. I stared back at him, squeezing my lips tightly together.

He glanced at my mouth. “Of course—you can’t answer me. Didn’t we tell you it was unsafe for you to go outside?” His gaze flicked away and he looked back toward the burial grounds. I stared at his somber profile, my eyes moving down his forehead, along the length of his straight nose, settling onto his lips. They moved in the shadows, his voice reverberating in my chest.

“It’s especially unsafe for someone like you. You know … not being able to call out for help. You’d find yourself in a little pickle, wouldn’t you,
Mia?”

I knew he was deliberately trying to frighten me as he looked back, waiting for my reaction. I gave him nothing, staring into his sunglasses, and wondered briefly how he could see in the dark. He almost seemed disappointed by my lack of response. Sighing, he eyed me once more.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Briggs gestured toward me to follow and walked down the steep hill. “Since you followed me all the way here, you might as well come and take a look.”

Briggs turned and kept walking away. I hesitated for a moment, then began to follow him into the dark night, silent except for the steps that our shoes made. Once we made it to the bottom of the hill, I was astonished by what I saw. The burial ground was massive, with hundreds and hundreds of tombstones lined up row-by-row, one after the other.

“This is an old graveyard,” Briggs’ voice murmured in my ear next to me. “Nowadays people are buried at the newer cemetery. But with all the deaths that have been occurring as of late, they’ve had to resort to burying the overflow of bodies here.”

My eyes went to where he pointed. There, off to the side, I could clearly see the fresh grass that had been planted, distinguishing itself from the older burials. I impulsively stepped toward the newer tombstones and read the names of the newly deceased.

Emily Jones

Veronica Montgomery

Pilar Dunham

There were more names. I paused as I began to count the lives that were all recently lost. Twenty-four in total, all killed within the past six months. I didn’t know them, but for some reason I felt a connection to each and every one of them.

I wondered why Briggs was here. I turned back to look at him. He hadn’t moved a step and I seemed to have caught his gaze behind his shades as we stared at one another, both of us unable to speak. Then he broke the silence.

“You’re wondering why I’m here, aren’t you?”

I gave a small nod, wanting him to continue. I waited patiently.

“Someone’s gotta put them in the ground.”

It was unexpected, but I didn’t flinch. Instead, I found a bench and sat there in silence watching Briggs dig, dig, and dig, deep within the soil. I wondered if the others knew about his late-night profession. For some reason, I knew that this wasn’t the secret that he had been referring to. As I continued to watch Briggs, his muscles shifted underneath his clothes with his methodical movements and I stared, unblinking.

He paused after a moment and looked up at me, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead. I wanted to ask him why he was still wearing his sunglasses in the middle of the night, but of course I couldn’t pose the question. So instead I just sat there ever so still and he finally looked away and continued back with his duties.

I wondered where the body was.

That was answered as Briggs left, going into a building and then coming back with...

I looked down, not wanting that vision of death to be engrained in my mind. I swallowed, trying to think of something else: strawberry jam, smiling dimples, and an ocean sea of blue. But it proved to be difficult. I learned through this exercise that I didn’t like death.

It was all so … final.

Glancing up again, I was pleased to see that I couldn’t see the body. Briggs was closing up the hole, piles of dirt going in one by one.

When he was done, he brushed his hands together.

“I guess we should head back.” He didn’t wait and started to wander off but stopped when he noticed I hadn’t moved. He approached closely, realizing what had captured my attention.

I was staring at a headstone. Quite sad, actually; it really wasn’t much of a headstone, only a white cross stuck into the ground.

Briggs remained silent before speaking. “It’s what we do for the unknowns.” Then he walked off and there was nothing for me to do but follow. As we walked back toward the apartment, a single thought ran through my head.

Wasn’t I an unknown?

•••

B
RIGGS ACTED AS
if nothing were out of the ordinary, as if we hadn’t spent that night outside together, as if he hadn’t told me about his secret profession as a gravedigger. It wasn’t much of a secret since he hadn’t asked for my silence.

Although it was not like I could tell anyone.

After we came back together to the apartment, he almost acted like the first moment that we had met, like I had gotten under his skin and he wanted to stay far away from me as possible.

That was fine by me.

I went to bed and woke up as normal. I spent time with the others, watched television with Amy and Kaede, etcetera, etcetera. I spent most of my time with Dante, actually. It was like we had a connection of sorts. I had no idea of the reason. Maybe it was because he was the first person I’d seen when my eyes opened for the first time. For whatever reason, I felt most comfortable with him. We would play games—he had taught me how to play chess, checkers and a slew of card games, talking as if we were both involved in the conversation instead of only one-sided. He was like his sister in that way.

There were even times when he said absolutely nothing and we would sit together in silence, both comfortable by the lack of words.

That changed today.

“I like you,” he blurted out unexpectedly. We were playing chess, something that I had seemed to inherently know how to play. Dante couldn’t understand why I kept winning against him. I looked up from the chessboard, saw him run his fingers through his hair, and his cheeks suddenly became red.

It was quite alarming how red.

Then he did something that surprised me even more. He took a hold of my hand and gave a tight, reassuring squeeze, smiling all of a sudden, his voice a little lower, husky. “And I really, really, would like to kiss you right now.”

He slowly removed his hand from mine and brought it up to my face, caressing my cheek with the pad of his thumb. It burned a line where he touched me and I in turn felt my face beginning to heat up by his focus on me. His thumb then moved over my lips and I took an intake of breath, enjoying the feeling of our connection. It felt familiar, like a long ago memory. My mind went back to an image I had watched on the television screen, a girl and boy embracing one another, their lips joined together.

Lips.

My gaze went to Dante’s lips and I slowly saw his face become closer and closer to mine. I was interested—no, more than interested—in what it would be like to be joined like that, and my eyes instinctively closed as I waited.

And waited.

My eyes flickered open to see what had stopped Dante, and I frowned slightly. I looked at Dante’s face and saw that his attention was no longer on me at all but on something else, something behind me. I turned my head.