Page 106 of Veiled in Brick

“Fuck,” I whined. I rested my elbows against the counter, pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes so hard that I began to see stars.

It did nothing to stifle my crying.

“Shit,” Liam whispered, “I shouldn’t have said anything, should I?”

“No,” I croaked toward my hands. “That—it’s not that, this is just…so fucked up.”

“It is.” He paused, then said, “But it’ll be over soon.”

I nodded, speaking more to myself than to Liam, “It’ll be over soon.”

I didn’t know how we could both agree on such a thing, for we had no proof that it would be. There was no tangible end in sight. I wasn’t seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. In fact, everything that I had to look ahead to seemed…dark. The other options—the alternative routes that we could take at the moment—the forks in the road, if you will—were all bleak. And, for whatever reason, it seemed as though no matter where I turned, I would be running headfirst into a black hole. Liam and I looked at each other, the way that our gazes locked on the other’s in such a serious manner depicting the realization that he, potentially, saw us tumbling toward the same emptiness that I did.

Gravity pulled, and the void beckoned me.

Chapter 18

The highway was nearly empty. At four o’clock in the morning, one would expect it to be, but it still gave our trip an eerie appeal. It had been hours of driving…hours of hearing the tires roar against the pavement…hours of sitting in silence…and I still sat in the passenger seat with a thrum of anxiety under my skin that I couldn’t shake. Liam had insistently taken the wheel, staring at the pavement before us. Every so often, he would glance my way as if to question what was on my mind, and I would give him what I hoped came across as a small, reassuring smile. It never appeared that he took it as such for each time that I did so, a crease would form between his eyebrows, and his lips would press together tightly. I would sigh at his tense expression, and he would turn his attention back to the road.

Claire and Luke were just as quiet. They sat behind us, Luke on the left-hand side and Claire in the middle seat. She rested her head on his chest. His arm was draped over her shoulder, his hand slowly flexing into a loose fist and then releasing as he brushed his fingertips over her upper arm again and again. I had seen him do this before—many times over the course of the past almost-year that they had been together—and it would typically bring a soft smile to Claire’s lips. Luke would notice her reaction, a corner of his mouth would pull up gently at the sight of her, and just like that, they were in their own personal bubble that no one could invade.

That wasn’t the case now, though, for both of their expressions were somber. I frowned at the known cause of that and pulled my gaze away from the rear-view mirror.

My phone buzzed between Liam and me, the vibration rattling around in the cup holder and resonating throughout the car. I felt all of our eyes snap to it, and Liam muttered:

“Who the hell’s calling you this early?”

I reached for it, the buzzing quieting in my palm, and as I looked to the screen, I felt my face screw together with a mixture of confusion, concern, and alarm.

“It’s Jay,” I said.

Liam asked, “At four A.M.?”

I didn’t acknowledge his rhetorical question—I simply answered the call, set it to speaker, and rested it back in the cup holder for all of us to hear.

“Hi, Jay,” I greeted him.

“I know, I know, it’s late, um—early—whatever, I haven’t exactly been sleeping,” James’ voice rang out in an apologetic tone. “I didn’t think you’d answer; was gonna just leave you a message—I, ah…I found the guy.”

I moved to sit bolt upright, the seatbelt locked, and my head bounced back against the headrest.

“On the tape?” I clarified quickly. “You got him on tape?”

“Nothing incriminating,” James remarked. “Not yet…I mean, there’s so much more to look through. I can’t sleep, so I’ve just been letting it play in the background. Anyway—a tall, lanky fucker…short, dark hair…pale skin…has walked past the camera more than a few times.”

I pulled a sharp breath through my nostrils. “What was he doing?”

“That’s the kicker—sometimes he’s carrying bags that just look like groceries; other times holding white roses. Goes right past your door and turns to the right, fishes a keychain out of his pocket, and walks right on in.”

I blinked several times in succession. “Wait—walks right on in where, I don’t understand.”

“2D.”

Claire and I live in 2A. Liam—2B. Luke—upstairs in 3C. 2D, though…I had met 2D. I was certain we all had at some point, and just as I was shaking my head and readying myself to tell James that his eyes must have deceived him, Liam was speaking for me.

“No,” Liam muttered quietly at first, as if he were deep in thought. “No, no—2D is an older man…short guy. Mister, ah—Mikos? Yeah, he’s nice—”

“Oh,” James spoke in a tone that turned clipped at the sound of Liam’s voice, “Thought Liam was just tagging along for the ride?”

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