Page 8 of Killing Me Softly

Bea

The complex I live in is made up of six four-story units, each with twenty-four apartments. The buildings are on a hill, so my third floor condo overlooks a redwood tree grove on one side and the shared courtyard on the other, and in the distance, I can see the lights of several nearby towns flickering at night. My hand shook so badly I was barely able to unlock my front door when I reached it.

But once I bolted the door behind me, made sure the windows facing the open-air hallway that connects all the units on my floor were drawn, and checked all the rooms to make sure nothing was out of place I relaxed.

The crowning jewel of my apartment, and the reason I chose it, is the large open plan living area, which encompasses the dining and kitchen as well. I can see the whole space from anywhere I stand, and I furnished it so sparsely there’s no way for anyone to hide behind anything as well. The two bedrooms and my bathrooms are separate from it, behind a door I can lock.

Before the missing knife episode that propelled me back to my mom’s house, I even stopped locking that door before I went to sleep. And I’d even almost convinced myself that the rose was a fluke, not a sign that someone was stalking me since.

And after Lily arrived with a bottle of vodka and a carton of apple juice, I was able to forget all about all of that.

Lily and I met in our junior year of high school. She’d been homeschooled before, so she had no friends, and everyone was avoiding me over my paranoia that I was being watched and the lies the only guy I ever dated in high school told. All of that led to more scenes and hysteric outbursts at school than I want to remember.

Lily simply said, “You feel what you feel, whether it’s also real, is irrelevant.”

She also said, “I’ll protect you.” And she’s been doing that ever since.

Her father is the president of the biker club that operates out of this town. I’m pretty sure my dad was a member of that club too. But my mom won’t confirm it. She blames them for my dad’s death and never wants to talk about his biker gang past. The only things she talks about are the things we did together, as a family, before he was snatched from us.

I blame them too. But it’s mostly out of respect for my mom and her wishes that I never told Lily any of this, or accepted her offers of help that her father and his club could provide. Not that they could provide anything, if it’s just in my head. Maybe pay for a long stay at a mental hospital, but that’s it.

We’ve mostly lost touch in the last few years while I was away at college, so we spent a few hours just reconnecting at my house, while getting pleasantly buzzed on the Appletinis and by the time we arrived at The Court—the new, high end dance club built at the site of an old farmstead a couple of hills over from the one my condo’s on. I can see the lights of it from my living room window and sometimes, when the wind’s right, hear the music too. There’s a huge walled off garden with a bar, and sitting areas where you can enjoy your drink under the stars surrounded by the fresh scent of redwoods, but I felt like dancing tonight. So we’re twirling under the multicolored disco lights in the large indoor area, and have been for hours. I think even Lily thinks I’m over doing it by now. But the music is inside me, flowing through my veins and for the first time in a long time I don’t feel like I’m outside looking in at my life. Could just be the loud music, the drinks and being surrounded by a throng of people having just as good a time as me, but I’ll take it.

“You want to take a break?” Lily asks just as one song fades into the new one. “I could use a drink.”

She makes a good point, so I nod and follow her through the crowd to the bar. It parts for her like the sea, but it’s nothing I haven’t seen before. She’s a striking beauty, with her perfectly straight black hair that reaches almost down to her waist, her perfectly chiseled face and her piercing black eyes. The cherry red satin dress she’s wearing only adds to the perfect picture, leaving no doubt that it’s hiding a body most only dream of. But she’s not all about looks and that’s why I love her. Actually she’s all about causes, and was that way in high school already. From building a new community center in town to protesting for environmental causes to Native American rights. Earlier, she was talking about going back to the reservation near the Canadian border where she grew up with her mother’s family to teach. I don’t want to lose her so soon after finding her again, but I saw it in her eyes how much it means to her, so I’m being one hundred percent supportive.

People are squished against the bar counter like sardines, but even here a space just magically opens up for us as soon as she reaches it. The guy next to her, a tall, lanky man that has the air of lawyer around him is staring at her with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth, but she’s completely oblivious to it. He might as well be air.

She orders a couple of Appletinis for us, since that’s what we’ve been drinking all night and it’s not a good idea to mix too much. As she turns back to me while the bartender mixes the drinks, the lawyer guy finally works up the nerve to clear his throat and smile at her.

“I love your hair,” he says. “Can I touch it? I bet if feels just like silk.”

But her eyes are locked on something or someone behind me. They’re as sharp as two black knives, but somehow more alive and mesmerized than I’m used to seeing them.

I turn to see what has her this captivated, and come face to face with Ash. He looks even more enticing under the multicolored flashing lights of the club. And he has eyes just for me.

“Did my father send you to follow me?” Lily asks the guy standing next to him. He’s tall, has the same jet-black hair as Lily and high cheekbones.

“You’d think Cross would have better things to do than keeping tabs on his grown ass daughter,” Lily adds. She loves her father, and respects him, but they butt heads a lot.

“You’re what, twenty-three years old, Lily?” the guy says. “Yes, your father has better things to do than sending me to follow you around. I’m here to have a good time with an old friend. Aren’t you gonna introduce us to your friend?”

People don’t usually speak to Lily this way, and the indignation on her face is priceless.

“Actually, we’ve already met earlier,” Ash says, smiling widely at me. “But it was way too short a meeting.”

He’s grinning at me, his eyes soft, flowing over me like a river full of glittering stars.

“This is Bea,” she says, turning to me. “And this is Eagle, a complete pain in the ass.”

“Oh, is that what you call it?” Eagle asks. She flashes him a piercing look that would make most people look away, but he’s just looking right back at her and smiling serenely. There’s definitely something going on between them.

“Alright, you two work it out and we’re going dancing,” Ash says, glancing at them then fixing his eyes on me in a way that makes me forget there’s over a hundred people all around us. No guy has ever had that effect on me.

I take his hand, the jolt from this second touch just as strong as it was the first time, and somehow more lasting. The sensation of a sparkling rivulet of electricity coursing through me doesn’t let up even after we’re in the middle of the dancefloor and he’s let go of my hand.

He leans in, the heat and strength pulsing off him make me see only blurs. “You look great in green.”

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