Page 41 of Resurrecting the Enemy
Taking pictures wasn’t a collection of photos for me. When I was behind the camera, nothing existed for me other than whatever I was focused on. I wanted to tell stories with my picture, and in order to do that, I had to block out everything else around me and listen to what my subject was trying to tell me. Did it want to shine or remain hidden? Was it expressive or timid? And, most importantly, could I do it the justice it deserved?
And it didn’t matter if it was a picture of The Pope or a random rock on the ground. Everything had substance. Everything existed for a reason. Behind the camera, I searched for those reasons. I wanted everything to matter, and I wanted to find beauty in what others might not see as beautiful.
As I snapped my millionth picture, it was no secret why I’d chosen this place. I was in the same place where I’d first met Ramsey. Their little nighttime mafia move last Sunday had ended my plans early, so I was back to try to recapture whatever I may have lost that night after Ramsey had chased me down.
Lost in my passion, I hadn’t heard him approaching, but I felt him soon enough, and that’s when I knew, with absolute certainty, that it was over for me.
I didn’t bother turning around. I kept right on taking pictures. “Are you lost?”
His answer came automatically. “No. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
Still not bothering to turn around, I asked, “How’d you know I was here?”
“Do you really want to know?”
I thought about that. “No,” I told him. “I don’t.” However he knew I was here, however he got into my social media accounts, however he did what he did, I didn’t want to know. The details didn’t matter.
After taking another round of pictures, I finally turned around to face him. His gaze was powerful enough to pin me in place, but I still asked, “What do you want, Ramsey?”
He jerked his head behind him. “Why do you ride the bus when you have a car?”
I looked down at my feet and huffed out a small, sad laugh. Of course, it would never occur to Ramsey Reed Jr. that some households might have to share one vehicle. In my case, we had two vehicles, one for my dad and one for my mom.
I looked back over at him. “That’s my mom’s car,” I replied. “She lets me borrow it when I want to do some night shots.”
“You don’t think it’s dangerous to be out here at night?”
I made sure to look him in the eye when I answered, “I know it is.” And I wasn’t referring to strangers or any animals that may be running around.
“Dressed for diamonds again, I see.”
Remembering how he had called me a diamond thief the first night we met, I asked, “Why did you call me a diamond thief that night?”
He jerked his head my way. “Black hoodie, black jeans, and black shoe, you reminded me of Thomas Blood.”
“Who’s Thomas Blood?”
Ramsey stuck his hands in his pockets. “He was a sixteenth-century colonel who attempted to steal the Crown Jewels of England and Scotland in 1671. When I first saw you Sunday, my first thought was that you looked like you were dressed for a diamond heist.”
I didn’t comment because I really didn’t think there was anything to say to that. That night felt like so long ago, even though it’s only been a week.
“What are you doing here, Ramsey?” I asked. “What do you want?”
“I want to know if you’ve calmed down yet.”
My heart skipped and my stomach threatened to revolt.
He wasn’t here to apologize. He wasn’t here to admit any wrongdoings. He wasn’t here to assure me that he’d never have anything to do with Erica or any other girl. He wasn’t here for anything other than to lay blame at my feet for losing my shit.
I looked back down at my feet, took a deep breath, and pulled my camera up over my head. I was done here. I wasn’t going to find peace here anymore. Not with Ramsey invading my space again. Not with him standing there, so commanding, that everything else around us began to fade in beauty.
I turned my back to him and started making my way back to my mom’s car. He wanted to know if I’ve calmed down, but I honestly didn’t know what I was feeling anymore. Was I calm or was I conquered? Was I over it or was I conceding defeat? I didn’t know anymore.
However, I wasn’t able to give it much thought when a strong arm came around me from behind, wrapping around my waist, and halting my steps. My entire back was enveloped in heat and I closed my eyes in my utter, complete downfall.
My arms hung limp at my sides, my left hand barely holding onto my camera. I opened my eyes, and all I could think was that my car was just beyond that cluster of trees over there. My escape was right there.
Right there.
