Page 34 of Blind Attraction

She let the air seep from her lungs, pivoted on her toes and glanced up at the dark shadow of the wall. She inched closer to the building, taking small steps so she wouldn’t trip. Reaching out, she touched the cold glass window and trailed her fingers forward. Slowly she advanced until her hand slid off the edge and into air.

She suppressed a squeal as her steps faltered. “Goddamn it.” Vertigo threatened to drag her to her knees, but she settled into the building, bowing her head until she caught her breath.

Once the threat of tears and the pulse of dizziness subsided, she moved around the corner. Her palms grated against something rough–cement or stone, no longer glass. When the noise around her lessened, she leaned her back against the wall and slid to the ground. Her ass hit the hard cement with a jolt. She closed her eyes, rested her elbows on her knees, and covered her face to ward off the nervous breakdown.

Her chest heaved, the constriction tightening with each breath. Something wasn’t right. Her mind kept going over the couple’s reactions. How they didn’t flinch when she mentioned the rape. How they remained adamant about the family connection.

What if he wasn’t a con artist, and the words he spoke were true?

She shook her head, determined to stay strong. Dropping her hands, she leaned to the side and removed her cell from her pants pocket. Kate would cheer her up. She always did. There couldn’t be much time before her friend finished work either. Then they would go home together and relax over a few cocktails like they’d planned to do since last month.

Alana cupped the device in her hand, her heart beating harder with each second she stared at the black blur. Why hadn’t she set up the voice recognition application? She could see the dark hues of her jeans, the cream fuzz of her arm, and only a big black spot where her phone should be.

Closing her eyes, she unlocked the screen by touch. That part was easy, she’d done it a thousand times before without thought or sight. The next step would be harder. There weren’t many contacts in her address book, but she had no way of knowing where Kate’s name sat or how far to scroll to get to it.

She placed her finger in the bottom left corner, where the book icon would take her to the numbers stored. With a deep breath she started to slowly scroll, trying to recount each person listed and what size each icon made. When she reached the position she thought would be close, she pressed her screen, and pressed again where she thought the connect button would be.

Raising the phone to her ear she waited.

Nothing.

She lowered the phone again, lifted the device right before her eyes and tried to see where she needed to press, but it was no use. Again, she blindly pressed her screen and placed it to her ear.

She held her breath and sighed when the ringing started.

One ring, two.

“Alana.”

Shit.

“Mom?”

So close. Kate’s name sat directly above her mothers.

“What’s going on?” A hint of panic came from the other end of the line. “I got off the phone to Kate’s mom not long ago, and she told me you were on the second page of the Richmond newspaper.”

“Umm.” Alana had nothing to say that her mother would approve of.

“I promised you I wouldn’t call and check up on you, so Patty looked it up on the Internet. We’ve been listening to the Richmond radio station and the man spoke about you on-air, Alana. He mentioned your name.”

Mitch talked about her during his interview? Through the panic and vulnerability, her chest sparked with an emotion far more palpable than she’d ever experienced before. She wanted to ask her mother what he said, but staying on the topic wouldn’t be safe.

“How did my grandparents die, mom?”

“What? Please Alana, the man said you were hurt, and he’d taken care of you all night. What does that mean? Are you OK? Did he hurt you?”

She couldn’t tell if her mother’s panic increased from Alana not answering the questions or because she’d mentioned her deceased grandparents. “I met an elderly couple not long ago. They tried to convince me they were my father’s parents.”

Silence.

“Mom?”

“You should come home.”

No. Apart from being visually impaired, she loved the freedom of being away from the retreat. She’d already learned a lot from her experiences. Men weren’t horrible creatures. Well, most anyway. She realized she wasn’t a lesbian which was a bonus, and truth be told, she contemplated staying in Richmond for longer than her return flight date. Much longer.

“How did my grandparents die?” She clutched the phone, praying for an honest answer.

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