You Are Here (27 page)

I was overcome with a horrible feeling—doubt. The ice pick hammered my forehead from within. Confused and grasping for control, I squeezed my eyes shut, rolling them in their sockets. When I opened them again, the face was sharper, but it couldn’t … it just couldn’t be.

Lucie.

Lucie

Monsters

I can’t breathe. Oh, my God, I can’t breathe!

Panic flooded my body as an acute pain radiated from my throat through my chest. I struggled against the weight on my body and the viselike grip on my neck, but one of my hands was pinned behind my back at a severe angle.

My eyes opened to see Grey looming over me, his face slack and dark. Pressure built behind the bridge of my nose and my vision went spotty. Through the intermittent blur, I focused my damnedest on his eyes. They appeared empty, dead.

It was as if no one was there.

Desperation reached fever peak as I felt my fight failing, weakness rooting in my limbs. My fingernails cut into his wrist in a last burst of adrenaline, and Grey finally blinked. His blue eyes went wide in horror as he fell back on his hands. He scrambled out of view.

As air rushed violently into my lungs, I coughed and rolled to my side. I clutched the comforter as I hacked, breathing in raw, stuttered gulps. His footsteps sounded as he stumbled down the hall.

Once I could breathe without feeling as if I were choking, I sat up. Every muscle quivered, trying to exorcise the fear. Quick flashes of the attack pierced my mind intermittently, like an erratic heartbeat in my head. The residual anxiety hollowed out my stomach and I felt sick.

I reached for the half-full glass on the nightstand and winced when I swallowed the first few sips. The cool water soothed the rawness in my throat a little and I was able to calm a little bit. After setting the empty glass back on the coaster, I slid off the bed and listened as I tried to calm my body. The sounds I heard at the far end of the apartment were quiet, almost childlike. A quick, rhythmic soft tapping on the door caught my attention first. Then, I noticed mumbling in that high-pitched whine you have when resisting tears—I could hardly believe it was coming from him.

I relished a deep but unsteady breath before shoving forward to go to him. I didn’t yet understand why he’d done what he did—or really, what happened at all, but I was confident he hadn’t meant to hurt me. Of course, that didn’t stop my body from trembling as I took slow, measured steps out of my room.

When I reached Grey, he was silent. He sat crumpled against the front door, his head in his hands. Barefoot and shirtless, he didn’t appear to be a threat to anyone. When his eyes peeked through his fingers, I was startled. My heart wanted me to climb into his lap and hold him, to undo this whole thing, but my mind was not as trusting. I was frozen ten feet away. Given his body language, what my heart wanted was irrelevant; he was clearly walled off.

“Are you okay?” My voice sounded like I’d gargled with bleach.

He chuckled darkly before he dropped his hands. “
Me
?”

I felt a twinge of dread. “What happened?”

“Nightmare.” His voice was sharp, cold.

I swallowed. It still hurt and I winced. “What was it about?”

“An assignment in Rio.” His voice had gone flat, and frankly, it scared me.

“An assignment? I don’t—”

“I know.” His head fell to his chest as he breathed, deep and labored. “I need to tell you something.”

He seemed to collapse under the weight of confession as he exhaled, a strange relief swirling around him. He stood slowly and moved closer to me but I instinctively fell back two steps more than he’d taken. I had certainly been frightened, and though I was still shaken, I didn’t know what to think now. I was at war with myself. We stared at each other for what seemed like a long time, most of which felt like a preemptive goodbye. He held me with his eyes as though it were the only way he’d ever hold me again. It was more terrifying than being pinned to the bed while he choked me.

“So, tell me.” The fear on my words tasted painfully bitter.

“I’m a …” His mouth hung open even as words ceased to flow. He flexed his jaw, grinding his teeth together and trying again. “Contractor.” He made a face as if he knew he’d given the wrong answer.

“What? Like a plumber?” Hope forced me to play stupid.

He straightened, a razor carving out the word. “Killer.”

My teeth mashed together and everything inside me pushed away from his words, from him. Goose bumps prickled all over my body, frosting the anxiety that pumped pure dread through my veins. It was the truth. But … “No.”

“A hit man. Assassin. Hired gun. Take your pick, it’s the same fucking thing.” Venom thickened his voice as he ticked off his list, hissing at me as if it were all my fault.

The quakes in my body returned in force, the shocks echoing outward from the center. Calm bled out with every heartbeat. Images of the attack flashed before my mind’s eye, the blurriness of the perpetrator’s face taking on edges of Grey’s. A strangled noise squeaked out of me as I subconsciously backed away. My throat constricted as an extra surge of panic sent chills across my skin in waves.

“Did you—? Was it …? Um,” I stuttered in between shallow breaths. “Was it
you
? Did
you
kill my parents?”

A sardonic smile. “No.”

I frowned. My back hit one of the kitchen chairs and I yelped. “Why is that funny?”

“Why is ‘no’ upsetting?” he shot back.

“So you didn’t?”

“No.”

“How can I know that?”

He took one step forward, I took two back before moving to put the table between us. He leaned forward, his hands splaying out on the table. His eyes were almost black as he bore them into mine, but more than anything, he looked bone tired.

“If it had been
me
, you’d be dead,” he said—a promise, not a threat. “Do you feel better now?”

“Stop it,” I snapped, but it was embarrassingly whiny.

“Stop what?” he growled as he turned away.

“Trying to make me hate you or be afraid of you.”

“Well, don’t you? Aren’t you?”

“No.”

He spun and charged a few steps toward me. I whimpered and stumbled backward into the living room, behind another piece of furniture.

“No, definitely not afraid. Don’t worry, the hate will come.”

His sarcasm cut, but it also pissed me off. I picked up a pillow from the sofa and hurled it at him.

He caught it and dropped it. “Seriously?”

I grumbled and stepped sideways so that there was only space between us. “Why didn’t you tell me before!” I shouted.

He seemed to still for the moment. “I wanted to tell you. I just … didn’t want to fuck this up before I got a chance to see what it could be like.”

“What?”

He wouldn’t speak.

“WHAT!”

He heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. “Love.”

As if a switch had been flipped, tears breached my lower lids in streams.

“Grey, I … I don’t understand.” I swiped my cheeks. I couldn’t make sense of what I was feeling. “I saw us. There’s supposed to be so much
more
of us.”

Every preview came into question. How could they be true if this was how it ended? How could it
end
? The future upon which I’d built my new life was fast turning into quicksand.

“I told you I didn’t deserve you or any of this. You had me thinking I could …” He shook his head, his gaze falling to the floor. He took three deep breaths, and with them, his guilty, mournful demeanor morphed into something cold, distant. “It’s not your fault. I never should have come back the first time.”

I couldn’t focus anywhere but his face. Shaking, I stepped toward him, a hand tentatively outstretched. I wanted to touch him, to feel his heartbeat under my hand, but my body was as conflicted as my mind.

“I’m a fucking murderer, Lucie!” he shouted, his right fist pounding on the wall next to him for punctuation.

I jumped and staggered farther back. He looked away and walked over to the mud bench. He sat down and began putting on his boots.

“Where are you going?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“You won’t have to see me again.”

“What? I’m not … I just, I just need to think a minute, okay? I-I’m confused. Please … wait,” I begged.

He stood, challenging. “What is a minute going to do? It won’t change anything.”

An invisible weight, large and immovable, settled on my chest. “I am
not
afraid of you, Grey.” I was fairly certain that I meant it, but my voice cracked.

He grunted in disbelief before stalking past me into the bedroom. He returned with his bag and set it down in the front hall. He pulled my spare keys out of his pocket and set them on the counter. Roughly, he ran his hands through his hair. I waited … and this was what I’d seen. Exactly. Tears stung my cheeks. I hated his apology before I heard it.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said, softly. “It really was the last thing I wanted.”

He turned to walk out, but I ran toward him, stopping a foot away. “What was the first thing you wanted?”

He pulled the door open and stood beneath its frame. “Nothing. Not until you.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He glared. “I want you … safe. So I have a job to do. Patrick Reese will never touch you again.”

“Grey—”

“I love you, Lucie.”

Grey

Anesthetic

It’s much harder to kill yourself the second time.

Each step away from the apartment was an agony and a relief at the same time. I wanted my indifference back, but it was too much to hope for. A cursed angel had resurrected a dead man. I had been rewired and at the moment, I hated her for it.

Though the fear and hurt in Lucie’s eyes plagued me. It was the exact look I expected but hated all the same. The walk did eventually do me some good, and by the time I got to my hotel, I was numb. Not because I had been able to shut off, but rather because my circuits were blown. I was thankful for a shower and a quiet room to assess the situation. With my computer and tool case retrieved, as well as Nina’s card that Lucie discarded on her steps, I sat down to get to work.

I had met Nina years ago, before I had cut ties with Reese. He had a cast of associates he worked with, but I was sure Nina was more of a regular fuck than a valuable asset. For some, the difference was negligible.

I remembered Nina as sloppy at playing a part, so I wasn’t surprised Lucie hadn’t bought her shtick. My guess was that she had been the one staking out Lucie in the apartment across the street. It could have been her in the park, too, but that was far too stealthy for Nina. Still, she’d approached Lucie, and that alone was a concern.

After a little digging, I found that a “Nina Thomas” owned property out in The Rockaways. It was particularly close to Fort Tilden, a largely abandoned former military base.

In high school, Nash, Drew and I used to drive out there with friends to hang out and get up to no good—the memory of which knocked me back a moment. On the other hand, a place like that would be incredibly attractive to Reese.

I eyeballed the card with Nina’s number on it and picked up my phone. She wasn’t going to give up Reese. Well, not on purpose, anyway.

Lucie

Villains

The room around me spun like a dizzying cage. I was so mad at him, but even more so at
myself
, my curse of a “gift,” and the shittiest luck of the draw I could possibly imagine. Why me? What the fuck did I do in a former life?

Suddenly restless, I hobbled around simmering with a fury I didn’t quite know what to do with. I found myself in the kitchen where I started cleaning everything. Wiping down the counter. Straightening things on shelves. Reorganizing the silverware drawer. I started washing dishes, but after rinsing one, I pulled out the garbage and started chucking pieces at the bottom to hear the satisfying cracks as they broke and shattered.

When I ran out of freshly cleaned dishes or glasses to destroy, I marched to the bedroom and stripped the bed. I had the urge to burn the sheets in a fit, but settled for slamming my fists on the pile on the floor until I lost momentum and completely deteriorated.

Within my heap of bones and muscle, I sobbed. Angry, bawling at wit’s end. I knew it would pass, but the ache radiating from my chest wouldn’t relent. After a while, the ugly whimpering ceased. I noticed the apartment was now filled with light, the sun having shifted to its late morning position.

I collected myself, wiped my face off on the bunched up sheets, and stood. As I stepped out of the mass of bedding, I grappled for balance before going to the kitchen for some ibuprofen. Once I retrieved an unbroken glass from the far left cabinet, a folded piece of paper on the floor in the front hall caught my eye. It had apparently been slipped under the door. I stared at it as if it might explode, but eventually curiosity won over.

Lucie,

It’s dangerous for you to be here alone right now. Please stay with Nash for at least a few days. You’ll be safer there.

Whether you believe it or not, you made me whole. You are magic, my Lu. No matter what happens, I love you.

Grey

The letter trembled like an earthquake in my hands before I balled it up, threw it at the door, and screamed at it. I just got my shit under control and he had to go and say something like that.

~

Me: Hey—mind if I come stay a few days?

VIVI: Not at all, but WTF is going on?

I went to gather things I’d need from the bathroom and came back to mild panic.

V: HEY! What happened?

V: Hello!? Please answer, you’re freaking me out.

V: Lucie?!!!!??

NASH: IS SOMETHIGN HAPPNIENG?!

V: JFC, sausage fingers, type slower. And stop shouty-capping all your texts.