Page 3 of Can You Take It?

Oh. Right. I did take a vial of her blood to…

“So, did you get them or not?”

“Oh…no, haven’t heard anything.” I shrug, brushing it off.

“Ugh, whatever. I guess I’ll live. I’m heading out anyway.”

She hops over to her closet, grabbing a pair of flashy heels and slipping them on. “I’m off to that party at Jamie's, you know, the one with all the fun people and free booze.”

“Jamie’s party? Really? I give you twenty minutes before you’re regretting those shoes. Just don’t call me when you’re drunk-dialing people you shouldn't be.”

She gives me a wink. “We'll see. And you try not to have too much fun without me, alright? Also, try not to let your hero complex get in the way of your actual work. I’ll be back later, maybe with some juicy gossip or at least a headache.”

She finally scrambles out the door. I roll my eyes and try to get back into the writing zone when my phone buzzes and lights up with a call from my grandpa, my only real family.

I pick it up and answer with a hesitant, “Hey.”

There’s a warmth in his voice that’s always been there, even when I pretend not to care. “Izel, my dear, how’s it going? Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

I scratch my head, avoiding my work for a moment. “Yeah, it’s been busy. You know how it is.”

He chuckles softly. “I do, but don’t forget about the old man. You’re my family, kiddo.”

I squirm a bit, feeling the weight of his authority over me. “Yeah, I get it. I know I’m your family.”

He continues in that calm, paternal tone, “Izel, we’ve been through a lot together. Remember, you can always count on us.”

I shift uncomfortably in my chair, steering the conversation elsewhere. “Thanks.”

We chat for a while, and even though I act all tough, it’s hard to shake the feeling that he still sees me as a kid who needs looking after. My family’s always got my back, even when I try to push them away.

We hang up and I slam my laptop shut in frustration. Work’s already gone to hell, thanks to Cassie’s disruptive escapades. She’ll be out late, partying, so I figure it’s time to get some fresh air. I need a break from all this madness.

I step out into the city lights, and it’s a relief to escape the confines of our cramped apartment. I stroll aimlessly, taking in the sights and sounds of the urban jungle.

As I walk, I bump into a guy who works with me at my freelance gig. We don’t really know each other all that well, but it’s better than being alone right now.

“Hey Liam,” I offer a friendly nod.

He grins, “Izel. What’s up?”

We start chatting about work, exchanging all the usual crap about deadlines and clients. I’m honestly kind of bored, but it beats being stuck at home. We decide to keep walking together, continuing our conversation as the city lights surround us.

As we chat, I can’t help but wonder how this is a lot more refreshing than the worries about my family’s expectations or Cassie’s romantic obsessions. Sometimes, random encounters and casual conversations in the city are exactly what I need to clear my head.

As we continue, Liam suddenly looks more serious. “You’ve probably heard about the Ghostface Striker, right?”

I nod, recalling the disturbing news that’s been all over the media. The Ghostface Striker breaks into the homes of girls aged 23-26, attacks them, and then leaves them dead. What’s even scarier is that he’s never left a single clue behind, and the city’s been living in fear.

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” I reply, aiming to keep it light as I kick a pebble on the sidewalk. “It’s some messed up shit.”

Liam’s face darkens as he says, “Yeah, well, my sister Angie was one of his victims.”

The memory of seeing Angie’s face flashed all over the news by the FBI in an attempt to find any clue comes rushing back. It’s a horrifying ordeal that I can’t even begin to imagine.

“I’m so, so sorry, Liam I didn’t know she was your sister,” I offer my condolences, reaching out a hand to lightly touch his arm.

“Thanks. FBI claims on finding that fucker, no matter what it takes.”

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