Chapter 20
The two water police board, a tall one with a big beard and a shorter, stockier one with giant sunglasses obscuring half his face. Both look irritated. “Do you know why we’re here?”
Dietrich shrugs, as if there isn’t a soaking wet man wrapped in a towel seated a few feet away, eyeballing Dietrich with poorly disguised concern. “Ah. Probably because someone fell overboard in a high traffic corridor where no swimming is allowed?”
“Fell overboard is stretching it, young man,” the heavily bearded cop says. “Looks like he was thrown overboard on purpose, which gets you reckless operation at a minimum. Especially with more motorized vehicles passing by. We’re going to need this boat to dock immediately.”
Incredulous, Dietrich scoffs. “I’m not at the wheel, so clearly I’m not operating this thing. This is asinine . It was a clumsy accident. I slipped and accidently fell into him. There’s no foul play. We are not docking for a fucking citation.” He twists to look over at Gale expectantly.
The cop is hissing in the background, “Excuse me?”
“Your turn, friend,” Gale says blandly to Kara. “Go get him out of the mess he made. He loves that.”
Is she crazy ? “Gale, he’s not looking at me, he’s clearly looking at you.”
“Well, he wanted you here, so…negotiate down to a simple violation or something. It’s a perfect learning experience.”
Horrified, Kara wants to strangle her mentor for putting her in this situation. Dietrich clearly threw the guy overboard and she’s expected to…lie?!
With her nerves racing, Kara gets up and tries to mentally puff herself up. She’s tough, she can handle this, no different from a court room. When she gets to the group, she stands with her hands on her hips, placing a calm expression on her face even though her mind is racing.
They are all looking down at her. She’s not very tall in flip flops. Flip flops don’t strike fear into the hearts of men, unfortunately.
Dietrich looks irritated that Gale sent her over, his gaze on Gale accusingly. Gale naturally ignores him. Probably enjoying herself.
Using her courtroom voice, Kara says, “Officers, good morning. What seems to be the problem here?” Start out simple, that always works. Make them talk more.
The short one with the deep scowl snorts. “Are you blind? A man got thrown overboard, why do you think we’re here little woman?”
Little woman?!
Giving him an unpleasant stare, Kara forces a thin smile on her lips to show she isn’t cowed. She carefully crafts her words so they can’t be used against her. “Mr. Bittinger told you that he lost his footing, knocking…Terry…off his feet. A terrible accident. I’m sorry, what makes you think this happened on purpose?” Kara gives them a surprised look, as if horrified they would even think such a thing of the handsome blonde man. Dietrich artfully hides his eyes behind giant bronze aviators that compliment his skin tone perfectly.
The taller cop subtly flinches at the name ‘Bittinger’. Kara wonders at that. She almost wants to play the ‘do you know who this is’ card just to see what happens. The shorter cop seems oblivious or simply doesn’t care.
“It’s against the law to put passengers in danger, especially in a no swim zone with heavy traffic, miss. I’m quite sure I saw a fight and a man got thrown in the path of another boat. That’s a serious violation, if not a criminal offense.”
Kara feels strongly about ethics and literally nothing ethical has happened on this boat. Regardless, if she’s expected to defend Dietrich, it’s rather clear that she needs to suck up her idea of right and wrong. They aren’t in court; she can try to diffuse the situation in a way that befits her client.
Ah, Gale’s client .
“It’s possible that distance you saw it from could give such an impression,” Kara replies, pretending she understands his concern completely. Sweet, sympathetic. “However, perhaps we should ask Terry.” She’s speaking to the man that went overboard now. “We don’t even have a victim, do we?” She glances at Terry, hoping he understands from her gaze that he better say it was an accident.
He’s looking just beyond her shoulder, dripping water, looking where she knows Dietrich is hovering. The man nods slightly, “I lost my balance.” He forces a smile on his face. “There’s really no problem, officers. Dieter fell into me; he certainly didn’t throw me!” He adds a little laugh for effect. “I mean, we all saw that boat coming. Complete accident. I’m sorry we caused such an issue.”
Another guy in a Hawaiian shirt nods from his chair, saying “Totally looked bad from afar, we get it.”
“No victim, no crime,” Kara finishes brightly. “A standard ticket or violation should suffice if necessary, but reckless operation seems very extreme. Especially an order to dock, don’t you think?”
The shorter cop scowls at her, likely irritated that everyone present is corroborating. “Who are you?”
An arm slings about her shoulders and Kara forces herself to keep her face straight. “My lawyer,” a smooth voice practically purrs next to her.
Kara remains looking at the cops expectantly, pretending there isn’t a handsome man hanging off her like a serious sidepiece. “Mr. Bittinger isn’t in the habit of throwing people off his deck for fun, how absurd would that be?” That gets her a few chuckles from the men on the boat, likely because all of them know it wasn’t a mistake and that yes, Dietrich had actually thrown the guy off the side for the heck of it. “If you need to write a minor citation, I understand. We are deeply embarrassed this happened.”
Terry adds, “Very embarrassed.”
The shorter officer frowns, his eyes completely hidden behind his shades. “You need to dock-”
His partner elbows him sharply and leans down to whisper something in his ear. Those angry lips grow even angrier. The short cop mutters a curse.
The stocky cop sighs with anger and walks away. The taller, bearded cop speaks for him instead. “Alright, we’re letting you off with a recorded warning and a small fine. But, if we see anything else today, litter, speeding, we are ticketing your ass all the way to the dock. Got it? Get back on the lake and away from the river if you are going to be ‘clumsy.’” He nods his head to Dietrich. “Good day, Mr. Bittinger. Tell your father the city precinct appreciates his latest donation.”
Dietrich grins pleasantly and Kara senses the puzzles pieces dropping into place in her mind.
“Thank you, sir,” Kara replies swiftly as the cops leave, feeling faint. There’s still an arm around her, there’s a body pressed against her side.
A puff of air shifts the hair by her ear. “What a surprise. Gale has a sense of humor after all. Straight into the fire with you, indeed.”
Somewhat nervous, considering the enormous temper tantrum he’d just thrown, not to mention the human being he’d also just thrown, Kara turns to look up at his face. He’s still hiding green eyes behind his big sunglasses, but she can see hints of red along his cheekbones. His body is warm, overheated, and she considers that he’s been roasting himself in the sun for nearly two hours. She can’t think of anything else to say aside from, “Do you need some water? You seem…dehydrated.”
The unpleasant, unfriendly twist in his lips remains. “Dehydrated? That’s a one I haven’t heard before.”
Oh. Oh . He thinks she’s referring to his ill-tempered behavior. “No, no. I didn’t mean-”
His lips are curling into a mocking sneer, like a warning flag, or a siren shrieking about an incoming tornado.
Kara needs to stop this. She needs to nip it in the bud before he even tries walking all over her. “I’m serious. It isn’t my fault you’ve been passed out in the heat all morning!” Raising her voice, trying to sound authoritative, maybe even angry, because he scares her. “Come with me, now , and I’ll get you a goddamn water and you will drink it!”
Her voice bounces off the water and Kara wonders if she’s made a horrid mistake. Maybe she’s going overboard next.
There’s an excruciating silence as he looks at her from behind his glasses. Kara’s nervous face is reflected in the dark mirrors that cover his eyes and she sees herself swallow nervously. Then, he takes her hand gently, loosely in his own, softly saying, “Well, why didn’t you just say so? Lead the way.”
Kara nearly dies, her eyes going to her hand in his. He wants her to lead him ? Taking in a shaky breath, she tugs on his hand and pulls him along, wondering if he’s going to follow her submissively, extremely aware of his hand in hers.
He does.
He lets her pull on his hand even though he knows damn well that she’s taking him back over to where she and Gale are sitting doing work. All the refreshments are there, after all. It’s his boat, he knows. As they approach, Gale arches her eyebrows at him, cordially saying, “Good morning, Dieter.”
His throat works, red traveling up his neck in a telling sign of angry emotion. “Is it? Is it, really , Gale?”
Oh, my God , Kara thinks in disbelief. The man is an absolute brat! Telling herself to just be in control , she settles him down on one of the cushioned bench seats, like a child. She goes to the small fridge and pulls out a cold bottle of water, opening it for him before handing it over.
He takes it from her and takes a gigantic swallow, nearly smashing the whole thing. “Thanks, Kara. Aren’t you precious?”
“I’m far from it,” Kara replies flatly, not liking the position he’s put her in. Come to think of it, she’s slightly irritated with Gale, too. They made a liar out of her. She feels slimy inside. Not only that; his name alone made the one cop nervous.
Ignoring her statement, Dietrich finishes the water bottle and asks Gale a few things that go over Kara’s head. Then, he gets up, stretching, walking back towards the upper level. “Come upstairs, chickadee.”
He says it loud enough that his voice carries on the boat, loud enough that some of the other men look their way, even as they screw around with their putting green, aside from Terry, who is drying like a limp noodle on a chaise lounge. Kara nods nervously, feeling their eyes on her. “Uhuh...”
Dietrich disappears back up to the sundeck. Gale is scribbling something on one of her documents, looking serious. “Aren’t you smart? I tell you he loves being taken care of and you take it literally.”
Kara flushes. “What?! I mean, I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t have an ulterior motive.” She lowers her voice. “He’s…scary.”
“Dieter’s a lotta scary,” Gale replies coolly, like it isn’t nearly ninety out. “But the thing with getting him water melted him like a popsicle in a heatwave, so you diffused him rather well.” She gestures to the ladder. “You’d better get up there before he comes back down. That phone call is bothering him and he’s impatient.”
Glancing at the ladder, Kara feels herself getting nervous. Alone? She grabs a bag of chips and a water bottle, heading to go up. Then, she pauses, quietly asking Gale, “Was he…was he really trying to hurt that man? Terry?”
Gale, still not looking Kara in the eye, murmurs, “Be careful up there. I can’t always be with you and that’s by his design.”
Oh, great. That inspires confidence.
Feeling like she’s walking the plank, Kara makes her way up to the top level, heart pounding. Dietrich is lying on his back, shirtless now, on a lounge chair. His shorts are riding low, really , really low. Making some noise, so he knows she’s arrived, Kara settles herself on the chair some feet away from his, trying to keep from fiddling nervously.
“It’s eighty-seven degrees out,” he says in a smoky tone, not looking towards her, sunglasses covering his eyes. “Take that stupid blouse off.”
Clutching her hand to her chest, Kara leans away from him, feeling cornered. “I’m fine the way I am.”
A slow, predatory smile shapes his lips at her words. “Are you afraid I can’t control myself? I promise, I won’t look.”
She’s wearing a bikini underneath her blouse, but that isn’t the point. With a huff of irritation, she unbuttons the blouse and lets it fall off her shoulders. It’s sweltering in the direct sunlight, almost unbearable.
True enough, he doesn’t move his head to look at her. Kara tells herself she shouldn’t be embarrassed; it isn’t like she has anything to be embarrassed about. It’s just the act, the way he told her to strip, just because he wanted her to. She’s alone with a man she barely knows and she’s half-naked.
So is he. And; he looks really good.
Cracking open her fresh water bottle, Kara glances at the edge, where someone else could climb up and join them.
“No one is coming up.”
Kara frowns, gazing over at him, noting the relaxed frame he’s in. He saw her glance at the ladder entry and clearly knew she felt like maybe she needed saving. He’s probably been watching her from under his shades. The sneak. “Why? How do you know?”
His chest, athletic, sleekly muscled, rises and falls with his breathing. There’s an elaborate tattoo of a crown and sword disappearing under the top of his low-slung shorts and Kara quickly looks away from it, trying to not wonder what the rest of it must look like. “Because,” he exhales softly. “They think we’re fucking up here.”
He pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head so he can meet her gaze. His eyes are lazily hooded, unreadable.
Standing up, Kara feels her mouth drop open in mortification. Oh, fucking no. “Why would they think that!? Is that what you do? Just…bring women up here to screw?” She looks at the chair she just vacated with disgust.
Dietrich makes a vague gesture with his hand, unfazed. “Why do you think Gale is so uptight about you being here?” He says it casually enough. “She doesn’t like the idea of you being my chew toy.”
“Is that what I am?”
“You tell me.” Cruel amusement rides his tone.
“Oh, God. I have to go back down,” Kara feels her face heating in humiliation, mortified. “What must they be thinking? I’m going to be sick. Thanks, you ass.”
He grabs her wrist. “Stay here,” Dietrich says calmly, a hint of an order in his voice. “No one is going to say shit to you.”
“Bullshi-”
He sits up, pulling her down onto another seat. “I am me and you are my guest. Everyone knows what happens when things don’t go my way.” That dangerous glint is back in his gaze, the look that has Kara breathing shallow. “Now, you know it, too.”
Oh, my God. He enjoys it. Knowing everyone is afraid to set him off!
He must see something in her eyes, because he chuckles good naturedly. “Okay, calm down. Let’s be friends.”
“Friends don’t give each other backhanded threats,” Kara snipes back, hunching her shoulders in discomfort.
“Then talk to me about something non-threatening.” His voice is back to being smooth, teasing almost. He’s got a certain, predatory laziness about him, green eyes captivating.
She’s glad he isn’t leveling her with that Hollywood smile, no, he’s not putting on a show here. He’s just a man, Kara tells herself, trying to calm her fluttering heart. A very good-looking man that just so happens to make other men nervous.
Kara’s mind crashes about as she thinks of a way to change the conversation, because what does a man like this find interesting to talk about? Kara glances around, flustered, before settling on his hands, noticing the very slight tan line at his wrist. “So, you ride polo ponies,” she chokes out, feeling stupid.
Dietrich looks down at his own hands and scoffs. “Ah, you remember that conversation with Gale.” He turns his left hand over and back in examination. “The gloves give me ridiculous tan lines and I have to attempt to fix it when I can. Good eye.”
Kara looks back out at the water now that they are on the main expanse of the lake again, leaning back, her weight on her hands. Trying to relax in his unnerving presence. “Must be fun. I did a little riding as a girl, but that’s what comes with living way out in the boonies, I guess.” She sighs, remembering. “It made me feel free.”
He leans back on his hands as well, legs spread, a slight smirk pulling at his lips. “Oh, yeah? What did little you do?”
“Just open field riding on a friend’s horse. At her farm. I loved going to her house, because my family didn’t have the money for it.” She has shared too much, she thinks, about her past. It makes her backtrack out of it, turning it back to him. “Nothing quite so ‘fancy’ as you English riders. I bet you look nice in white breeches.” Then she flushes; that last bit was uncalled for. “Based on…you know. Cougars clawing at you after you ride.”
There’s a hint of a wicked smile growing on his lips, green eyes taking in her embarrassment. “You could come see for yourself. Our matches are on Sundays.”
He’s mirroring her movements, she realizes. Leans forward, shifts when she shifts. It’s subtle, but he’s doing it. A psychological signal of liking someone, or trying to make someone else feel comfortable in his presence. Her mouth goes dry. This rat bastard.
Trying to keep her mind off the fact that he’s trying to ease her up artificially, Kara says accusingly, “Need me to save you from thirsty older women? Woe is you.”
“It’s a gift,” he sighs, a falsely exasperated look crossing his face. “So,” he changes his tone lightly. “Are you having fun? Or has Gale been putting you through the ringer all morning?”
“It’s certainly a break from my usual routine.”
A smirk. “I’m never boring.”
“I can believe that. You’re also dreadful,” Kara says drily, taking a long sip from her water, feeling overheated, for multiple reasons.
Green eyes are on her lips, wrapped around the bottle.
“Stop!” Kara snaps, feeling her face go crimson.
He doesn’t stop. “What?”
“You’re trying to get me all hot and bothered! Stop it!”
A flex in his finely muscled abdomen is the only response Kara gets and she nearly has a conniption.
“Why did you invite me here?” She stares into his lovely eyes, because she refuses to look at the glistening, toned flesh below his neck. “It wasn’t to make nice and chat to me about hobbies.”
“How do you know that?”
“I wasn’t born yesterday.”
He makes a little amused noise, like he’s been caught being naughty. “Because, you’re a new face in my rather tedious circle and I’m easily bored.” It sounds practiced.
“I think you’re lying,” Kara replies to that. “I’m not very interesting. I’m young, but I’m not stupid.” She licks her lips and tries bringing up what’s been bothering her about this whole affair. “Is it about Nick? Because you saw me with him? Some sort of stupid male competition to see who can snag the girl?”
Now, the strange calculation appears in his gaze, like he can see into her bare soul. “Are you with him? I can’t quite…tell.”
Flushing, Kara tears open a bag of chips. “What sort of sordid question is that? Jeez. Mind your own business.”
There’s a hint of cruelty seeping into his green, viper gaze. “You know, he’s not able to get it up any other way, right?” He says in that smokey smooth tone, lovely and sinful. “Nick. You’re wasted on him.”
Kara stiffens at that.
Dietrich looks positively gleeful. “You didn’t know? Or you didn’t believe it? Are you exclusive?” He says the last bit oddly, like he knows something she doesn’t. Like he’s laughing at her. It makes Kara feel distinctly out of her league.
She looks out at the water, sighing, thinking about Nick and his detached, distant way about him. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” she says blandly. “I’ve got no hold on him and he can’t have one on me.”
His grin is like the cat that caught the canary. Dietrich’s eyeteeth are sharp, well defined, giving him a wolf-like edge. “A girl after my own heart.”
Does a man like you even have a heart?
Feeling strangely humiliated, Kara glowers at him, at his mocking expression. “Why am I here, Dieter? So, you can pick me apart with words? Demean me?”
He says nothing, eyes looking at her with a certain amount of expectation. A look that says, don’t play stupid with me.
“I never agreed to work for you. I’m not joining your account. This is a one-time, twisted experiment and you are clearly a loose cannon when it comes to abiding the law. I don’t want to work for a man like you.”
Dietrich sits up, stretching once more in a manner that tells Kara he’s showing her his physique, wants her to drool over his body, wants her to wonder what’s beneath his waistband. Bastard. “Is that so? A man like me? You’ve already been telling pretty white lies to the law for me. You’ve been helping Gale with my documents all morning.” His smile is positively delighted as he breathes out on his exhale, “You’re practically mine already.”
Kara feels her heart drop into her stomach as she stares at him, feeling horror suffuse her body. “But I haven’t agreed to anything.”
“You will. Otherwise, I’ll have it on record that you purposely lied on a statement to an official of the law, along with anything else I want to come up with. I can come up with anything .”
Gale had warned her that he’s a schemer. But the question is still why?
“You’re a snake,” Kara hisses, seeing red, lunging to shove him off his chair.
She expects resistance. Instead, he easily lets her push him onto his back. Kara is practically straddling him as she loses balance, her hands catching on his chest. He’s looking up at her with serious, liquid green eyes that seem to know every feeling, every dark feeling Kara doesn’t want to admit as they flit through her body. And, like a hypnotist, he has her frozen in place, unable to look away from his gaze. Unbelievably, his muscles relax under her, his body completely submitting.
Kara feels like panicking and she doesn’t know why. Steeling herself, she tries to hold on to anger, nice and prickly. Breathing heavily, she says, “I don’t like being threatened. Threatening my career will get you nowhere.”
She feels him sigh underneath her, feels the shift in his muscles. Staring up at her, unmoving, Dietrich says thickly, “You’ve made your point. Let me up.” His voice drops. “ Please ?”
The feeling that hits Kara makes her sit away from him like he’s an open flame. Slowly, he pushes himself back up into a sitting position, cracking his neck idly as he eyeballs her with a shadowed expression. He moves with a certain animal grace that makes Kara uncomfortable in so many ways.
“I’m going back down by Gale, now,” Kara says shakily. “You’re not being nice. I’m not interested in being a ‘chew toy.’”
“You want to play hard to get?” He asks her waspishly, eyes darkening. “That’s your prerogative.”
He’s clearly appalled, this spoiled man-child. Pissed off. She didn’t fall for his animal magnetism like everyone else. Kara knows he’s got a temper not unlike her own; the dark look in his eyes can’t be faked. She didn’t play along the way he’d wanted.
She wants to tell him to get used to disappointment where she’s concerned.
Huffing, Kara pulls on her blouse, grabbing her water bottle as she goes to head down the ladder. His irritated voice stops her. “You should know. I’m the type of friend people need , not the one they want . Remember that next time you’re in need of a favor.”
Shuddering, Kara doesn’t turn, doesn’t want to see his eyes picking her apart with surgical precision.
Leaving him to return to Gale’s side, Kara struggles to keep her unease off her face. Gale looks at her, distinctly worried. Kara goes to her side quickly and sits down, whispering to her, “It’s alright, he didn’t do anything to me. Just words.”
Gale’s lips purse, unreadable. She whispers, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I didn’t think he’d take to you, the way he has.”
Kara doesn’t understand what he’s after, but she knows he’s not interested in her in the ‘typical’ way. He’s interested in an outcome ; she just doesn’t know what that outcome is.
Shortly after, they dock. As everyone deboards, saying their goodbyes, Kara slips away after hugging Gale. She doesn’t want to be around when Dietrich gets down from his ‘tower’.
As Kara walks away from the marina, she hears Gale speaking with him.
“Are you staying down here tonight?”
“Yeah, with Walter,” he replies casually. Goatee Man Walter.
Kara stubs her toe on the cement, her mind pausing on his words; he’s going out and that means…Nick is likely going to be with him. She doesn’t understand why it bothers her. Then, her chest stings as she realizes why Dietrich had been asking about the exclusivity.
He wanted to know where she stands with Nick, knowing he’s going out with him later. The devious bastard!
It makes her feel miserable.
Tired from the sun, Kara is almost to the street with the parking garage when she notices she has a missed call. Sickness, like a worm in her guts, twists inside of her, rotting.
It’s her father. Again. Her stomach turns to acid. This time, he’s left a voicemail.
There’s a sound of silence, then white noise, terrifying in its volume in her mind. With shaking fingers, she raises the phone to her ear, feeling herself shudder at the sound of a familiar, caramel smooth voice filtering in from the other end.
Conniving. Coaxing.
“Kara. It’s Daddy. What a busy girl you must be, missing my call again. I heard you’re finally practicing law; everyone is so impressed .” Kara shudders, her heart fluttering and dying all at once over his voice. There’s a pause in the voicemail as her father exhales slowly, artfully letting his words sink into her like poison. “Call me, Kara. We need to talk. I miss you, princess. But don’t make me call you again.” Soft, almost pleasant words. The intent hidden behind them is anything but. The dangerous drop in tone on the last words plain as the sun at noon.
A second call in only a few days. A voicemail. Telling her to call. What does he want from me? Why now? Why after all these years? He doesn’t miss me. He’s barely noticed my absence in his life. I’ve escaped his gaze for so long.
I paid my dues to be free of him.
The memories that assault Kara throw her mind sideways, like a concussion. Memories of Charlie waiting up for her in high school, in the dark, grabbing her when she walked in the front door, pressing her against the wall, hissing, ‘ and just where have you been all night? You haven’t been screwing around with some lowlife boy, have you?’, all while he’d forced her mouth open with his hand squeezing her jaw, leaning forward to inhale, to see if her breath reeked of alcohol.
Anything to solidify her unworthiness .
Even worse, while they briefly lived together after her mother’s death, how she’d delay coming home from university, how all his rules would suffocate her, how she’d scream at him that he didn’t own her. If he’d drank enough, he’d backhand her and tell her, but you do belong to me, I made you . You will always be mine.
Remembering his delusions of importance make her shrivel inside, make her feel like nothing, how she’ll never be good enough for her own father to love her, despite knowing he can’t, he can’t see anything but himself. It’s like self-flagellation, telling herself that maybe if she makes something of herself, so indisputably, he will see her as more than a possession…even though his disorder will never let that happen and she damn well knows it.
Kara’s body goes cold and numb and she wants the thoughts to stop, wants them to go away. She needs to lock them in a box and replace it with something else.
Lock them in a box, sure, Kara. That will protect you from him. What a grand plan!
She needs to forget; she needs it all to go away. Her mind is cracking under the weight of her own self-imposed trauma and she wants it buried. As if in a daze, she scrolls through her contacts and stops on the one that she’s been waiting to see pop up on her phone for days.
Now, she’s too far gone to care what he thinks of her reaching out to him. Now, she just needs what only he can provide to put her mind back in place. Dialing the number, Kara waits for a familiar rasp to pick up on the other end. “Nicholas,” he answers with a certain air of distraction, like he didn’t even check his phone to see who was calling.
Nicholas . Oh, he sounds so refined when he answers with his full name.
Blandly, staring at a crack in the cement, Kara utters, “Do you know the parking garage over by the marina?”
There’s a muffled sound, like he’s switching over to his phone from bluetooth earbuds. She can hear the outdoors in the background. He’s probably leaving a meeting. “Kara?” His voice comes back into focus.
“Well, do you?” She presses it, her mind on a dangerous, one track path.
Tunnel vision, like a horror show.
Make the memories stop, get his voice out of my head, bury me in misery of my own design…
There’s a pause and the weight of how Nick hasn’t reached out to her since their encounter the other week at his penthouse slaps her in the face. A sliver of anger touches her, cutting through the numb, but at least shame can’t penetrate her walls, not this time.
Why hasn’t Nick called?
Why do you care?
She wants what she wants and she’s going to use him this time.
“I know it,” he replies slowly, suspiciously. Tasting his words. “Why?”
“Can you meet me there in fifteen minutes? Underground level 4.”
Another pensive pause. “And…what is it you’re looking for me to do, exactly?” The slow words of a panther, waiting.
“Distract me,” she says flatly, strangely empty. “And, don’t be nice.” Then, she hangs up.
A calm settles over her, like a blanket fresh out of the dryer. With slow purpose, feeling the weight of her mental baggage dragging behind her like a chain, Kara makes her way to the parking garage, minutes passing by.
It’s not too far. Only ten minutes up the street.
The underground is gross. That’s the only word for this particular floor of the parking garage, multiple levels below ground. It’s like slasher film, dark and dank, wet stains everywhere, a few cars, because it’s the less attended floor way at the bottom. No one likes going down here. It simply looks like a murder scene waiting to happen.
Leaving the stairwell doorway, she peers around and sees no one, the grimy atmosphere oppressive. Any time she’s been in a garage like this in the past, she’s always had the certain fear of being watched, of needing to get to her car quickly. You never know who could be waiting for unsuspecting prey in the deep, dark places of an unattended garage.
Her veins nervous, she walks towards her car, ears straining for any sound, anything at all, but there is nothing. You’re being absurd. Just get in your car and wait there, safe behind locked doors.
When she’s three strides from her car, a hand crashes over her mouth, cutting off her sudden, horrified scream.