Chapter 28

My screams caught in my throat as I was hauled away from Scarlett. The only thing I could think was that Kyle had finally gotten his hands on me and would do to me what he’d done to all those other women. What he’d done to Scarlett. I kept picturing Scarlett’s eyeless face, the sockets boring into my mind and taking root.

Would he take my eyes, too?

I tried to fight him off, but his grip was too strong. Reaching up behind me, I raked my fingernails over his skin, but knew it wouldn’t help.

He would kill me, anyway.

“It’s okay!” a guy’s voice shouted from behind me. “You’re safe!”

I stopped fighting as soon as I realized the arms were pulling me out the front door and into the open air. Our legs tripped over the welcome mat, but we didn’t slow down until we were in the courtyard again. When I finally found my balance again, I turned to see Detective Brady gripping my shoulders tightly.

“Are you hurt?” he asked me quickly, glancing over my body for injuries.

I couldn’t seem to get myself to speak, so I settled for just shaking my head.

“Good. Was Grafton in there?” he asked, looking me straight in the eyes.

I nodded and then burst into tears. I wanted to tell him to go help Scarlett. Get her down from where he’d strung her up. But I knew it was pointless. She was gone.

“Okay. I’m going to call this in and then check it out,” Detective Brady said to me, calmly. He looked around the courtyard and then called out to someone behind me. “I need you to go out to the street and wait for the officers to arrive and then bring them back here. Can you do that?”

“Yeah. No problem,” I heard Zhara say. Then he hesitated.  “Uh, someone should stay with—”

“I’ve got her,” another voice said. Seconds later, I felt warm arms wrap around me carefully. “Don’t worry, Zhar. Just go.”

I knew those arms. That voice. The way he made me feel.

Preston.

I knew it was him without even looking. And I was happy he was there.

“Okay. Stay with her until the others arrive,” Detective Brady said forcefully. “And if anyone shows up that you don’t know, yell for me. Don’t hesitate, just yell.”

Then the detective pulled out his phone as he ran back toward Scarlett’s apartment.

When he was gone, I finally stopped fighting the exhaustion that had been building in me and allowed myself to slump to the ground. Preston helped me into a sitting position and rocked me a bit until I began to calm down. I realized after a few minutes that this was the closest we’d ever been to each other. And surprisingly, it was comfortable. Like we just fit.

I felt safe, here, being taken care of by him.

“You’re okay. I’m here. Easy, just breathe,” he whispered, holding me tightly to his chest.

When I’d finally run out of tears, I looked up at Preston helplessly. I didn’t want to tell him. I knew it was selfish. Scarlett had been his partner, and the news would probably hurt him more than anyone else at the company. But my insides were burning and I could no longer be the only one who knew what had happened. I had to tell someone who would understand just how horrible it all was.

“He got her. He killed Scarlett,” I whispered, feeling my brain go fuzzy, like I was about to black out.

“What?” Preston asked, his eyes growing wide.

“He killed her. In her bedroom—Scarlett’s body—he took her eyes, Preston,” I said, listlessly. It was like my brain wasn’t quite connecting to my body anymore. I lay there, paralyzed, unable to move, breathe, think. I have no idea how long we sat like that, connected in silence and shock. Fifteen minutes. Fifteen seconds. Time ceased to exist in a way that I could understand.

Finally, Preston swallowed hard and leaned in toward my ear. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” he whispered, tightening his arms around me protectively.

We heard a rush of footsteps coming from the street, and I turned to see a swarm of uniformed cops closing in on us. Other dancers had poured out into the courtyard by now and were standing around watching, whispering. They didn’t know how bad it was yet. That someone had been brutally murdered.

“Emmy!” I heard someone shout from a distance. I squinted my eyes to try and make out who was coming toward me, but he was too far away for me to see clearly. It was only when he was nearly on us, that I recognized it was Agent Walker. Close behind him was Agent Landon. He was moving slower than his younger counterpart, but seemed to be keeping up. I’d been dealing with Agent Walker alone for so long, I’d forgotten the other agent was even on the case.

Agent Walker rushed over and knelt down in front of me, his face awash with worry. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking right in my eyes.

“You’re kidding, right?” Preston answered, angrily. “She just found our friend in her apartment dead. It’s not possible to be okay after that.”

I felt Preston clutch to me tighter, like the harder he held me, the safer I’d be. Agent Walker noticed it, too.

“I understand that, uh…” Agent Walker said, searching for the name of my new companion.

“Preston,” he answered edgily.

“Okay, Preston,” Agent Walker said, calmly. “I meant to ask if she’s physically intact. That she’s not hurt.”

“Oh,” Preston said, still wary.

Agent Walker studied me again. “Are you hurt?” he asked again.

I shook my head.

“Good,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Why don’t we get you back to your place, huh?”

Agent Walker called a few uniforms over and instructed them to take up post inside and outside of my apartment.

“There’s a lot to take care of here, Emmy, but when I’m done I’ll come find you,” he promised. Then he added, “I know he’s your partner, but I need to borrow Zhara for a bit if that’s alright. I don’t want you to be alone, though. Do you think you can stay with her?”

He turned back to Preston and waited for a response.

“I won’t leave her side,” Preston said solemnly.

Agent Walker nodded, and then got up to join the small group of people gathering behind the yellow tape that had been set up to block off Scarlett’s apartment. I turned and saw Zhara talking to a few cops off to the side. When our eyes met, he stopped what he was saying and mouthed, “I love you,” to me.

It was exactly what I needed at that moment. A reminder that there was at least one person I could count on completely in this world.

“Come on,” Preston said, helping me up from the ground gently.

I went to take a step, but my legs gave out. Before I could fall though, Preston had caught me.

“I’ve got ya,” he said to me softly and then swept me up into his arms like I was a ragdoll.

“You don’t have—” I started to protest, but Preston was already walking across the courtyard determinedly.

“I know. But please let me,” he said.

So I did.

I took a breath and closed my eyes, trying my best to ignore the noise around me. This was easier said than done, but I wanted so badly to forget that I was in the middle of a crime scene. That someone had died.

I just wanted this moment. Right here, right now.

I wanted Preston.

Someone opened the door to my apartment, and Preston stood there, refusing to let me down even as one of the detectives searched the place. Only when he was satisfied we were safe did Preston carry me into my bedroom and lower me down onto the bed.

Once I was settled, Preston started to get back up, but I grabbed onto his shirt tightly.

“Don’t go,” I said, barely believing the words were coming from my mouth, and even more surprised that I meant them.

“I won’t,” he said. “I’m just going to close the door.”

He gave me that smile of his—the one that used to annoy me, but now made my heart race—and slowly pulled away. I let go of his shirt reluctantly and held my breath as he got up to shut the door.

And then we were finally alone.

Preston sat back down on my bed and then lowered his body until he was lying on his side, facing me. For a while, we both just lay like that, staring at each other, breathing in the same air, getting used to being on a bed together.

“What are you thinking?” he asked me finally.

It was the last question I expected to come out of his mouth, and the one I least wanted to answer. What was I thinking about? Murder. Death. Sadness. Massacre. Blood.

Blood. Blood. Blood.

“I’m trying not to think,” I answered, which was true. However, lying here in the silence wasn’t helping.

“Can I do anything to help?” Preston asked me sincerely.

Then it hit me. For once in my life, I needed a distraction.

Without thinking of the consequences, I reached out and placed my hand on his chest, noting that underneath the light blue shirt, his muscles were taught and strong. Preston looked down at his stomach, where my hand was touching him and shivered under my fingertips.

Then my mouth was on his and our bodies were coming together until there was no longer space between us. We were kissing, hard and fast, and he had his hands in my hair and his tongue in my mouth, and I realized that for the first time I could forget everything and just…be.

And it felt amazing.

I hadn’t known it until then, but I needed Preston desperately. Even though I knew that kissing him wouldn’t help me achieve my goals of becoming a prima ballerina. Even though doing this would likely just make things more complicated. Even though I probably shouldn’t have let him in—I knew I didn’t want this to stop.

As my body melted into Preston’s, his arms wrapped around me, strong and insistent, and he pulled me on top of him easily. Immediately I felt the excitement bubbling up inside and I wanted it to consume me until all I was made of was exhilaration and there was no room for sadness or worry or fear. So, I gripped his shoulders and kissed him deeply as we became a bundle of body parts writhing in synch.

Our clothes came off at an alarming speed and before I had a chance to feel shy about what we were doing, I was above him, arching my back and sighing loudly. He reached up and pulled me back down to him, grabbing at my flesh like he was afraid I might disappear. I began to suck on his lower lip and he groaned, and after a few minutes of feverish exploration, we collapsed against each other, no longer able to move.

We lay there like that, naked on my bed, for several minutes. Neither of us saying a word to the other as we attempted to catch our breath. But then the adrenaline started to wear off and it dawned on me what we’d just done.

“Um…” I said, not sure what else to say.

“Yeah,” Preston said, with a chuckle. “So, that happened.”

“It sure did,” I said, touching my mussed hair nervously. Reaching up, I twisted it around quickly and tied it in a knot on top of my head.

“You know, I didn’t plan for this or anything, Emmy,” Preston said carefully. “I mean, I’ve thought about it plenty of times, sure—but when I did it was never like this. Not after what happened tonight, I mean.”

“Sorry…” I said, trying to figure out how to explain to him why I’d chosen now to get close. To let him in. It wasn’t lost on me that our timing had been a little inappropriate—maybe even messed up. But my emotions had been running on high, and I’d needed to shut my mind off, and Preston had been there for me, and he was so sweet and kind…

Preston leaned over and kissed me softly, while running his hand down my naked arm.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” he said. “I just want you to know that this is more than just…grief for me. You’re more than that to me.”

I didn’t trust my voice not to betray how I was feeling, so I lay there quietly, letting the words sink in.

“You think he did this? The guy that was after you?” Preston asked me gently, changing the subject. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that I hadn’t qualified his feelings with my own. That was good, because I was still trying to figure them out.

I nodded.

“But why Scarlett?” he asked, staring up at my ceiling like he’d find the answers in the air. “What did she do?”

“Nothing,” I said, sighing. This was true. Scarlett had done nothing to deserve what had happened to her. Despite the fact that she was always doing something to annoy me, she was an innocent bystander in all of this.

Suddenly, a thought hit me like a freight train and my blood ran cold.

My mind ran through all times that I could’ve been seen in public with Scarlett. Talking after class. At the bus stop that one time we went into the city to shop. At the café just the other day. From afar it might’ve seemed like we were friends.

Scarlett had been a punishment. A way to show that if Kyle couldn’t get to me, he’d go after the people I cared about. Scarlett had suffered because Kyle hadn’t gotten what he really wanted: me.

“Omigod,” I breathed, frustrated that I hadn’t realized this before.

“What?” Preston asked, concerned.

I looked at the boy in bed next to me, and fear instantly flooded my body, replacing all of the good feelings I’d had just minutes ago. If Kyle was going after those I cared about, I couldn’t chance being close to anyone right now. Especially someone I’d begun to fall for.

Not if I wanted him to remain alive.

“You should probably go,” I said, getting up and grabbing for my shirt.

“Huh?” Preston asked, looking confused.

“Agent Walker will be coming by soon and…I don’t think he should see us like this,” I said.

“Okay…but why would he care?” Preston asked, sitting up but not moving to leave.

And I needed him to leave.

“He won’t care. But I do,” I said. I choked on my next words but knew I had to say them. “Preston, this was a mistake.”

I watched his face fall and then he looked at me like I’d hit him. I realized in that moment that it probably would’ve hurt him less if I had, and the thought nearly broke my heart. I had to turn away in order to go through with the rest of my plan. If he looked in my eyes, he’d know what I was doing.

“Emmy, you’re freaked. I get that,” he said to me after a moment. “Tonight was crazy, but you can’t honestly say this was a mistake. This—us—we’re the only thing that makes any sense here.”

I swallowed back tears and forced myself to say the words I knew would push him away for good.

“You were just a distraction,” I said as convincingly as I could. “Nothing more.”

Silence filled the room and I knew I’d finally done it. Preston would never talk to me again after this. But at least he’d be safe, I reminded myself. Kyle couldn’t go after him, if he didn’t know about him.

“Can you please just leave?” I added, busying myself with cleaning up around my room just to have something to do.

“Yeah. Sure,” Preston said, the anger clear in his voice. He seemed like he wanted to say something else, but then I heard the door open and the sound of his footsteps retreating down the hall.

When the front door finally slammed, I dropped to my knees and wept.