Descend, page 7
“Tessa!” My name slices through the darkness behind me. I shine my phone back toward the head of the trail, remaining silent. “It’s Matt.” He holds his own phone up to his face, lighting himself in an unflattering glow. “Are you okay? What are you doing down there?”
“How did you know I was here?”
“I followed you.” He ducks under the tape, shining his light down the hill. “Are you…is this where…is there blood down there?”
“Doubt it. It rained pretty hard last night.” I click my phone light off. “Why are you following me?”
Silence builds in the night. He clicks his phone light off. “This will be easier to say in the dark.”
“So say it then.”
He clears his throat. “I have the hots for you. Like, dream-of-you-every-night and see-you-every-time-I-blink kind of hots. So, I was at the dollar store and saw your car go by, and I know you don’t live in this direction, and there was that guy you slapped tonight…”
“You followed me to see if me slapping him was foreplay?”
He laughs. “Yep. And before you say men are stupid, let me remind you that I’m not the one standing in a murder scene right now.”
“Are you a murderer?”
“In the serial killer handbook, rule number two is Don’t tell anyone you’re a serial killer.
I grin. “What’s rule number one?”
He turns his phone light back on. “Follow the girl you like.”
I turn my light on and head for the path. “Get your best pick-up line ready, I’m coming up.”
When I reach the road, Matt is leaning against his car, a bottle of vodka in his hand. “I lied. Nothing against the Grille, but I was suffocating after that meeting, and I couldn’t afford to stay there and buy all the drinks I’m going to need tonight.”
“So you were buying alcohol when you saw me pass by?”
He nods. “You being here makes me think you need this bottle as much as I do. Want to help me drink it?”
I walk toward him. “Here?”
He steps forward, close enough that only the bottle is between us. “My place. Or yours. I’m flexible.”
I wrap my hand above his on the bottle. “You might need to prove that to me.”
~16~
It’s been a while since I’ve had the kind of hangover that makes me unable to get out of bed. Even longer since I’ve woken up in an unfamiliar bed. I pull Matt’s pillow over my head. “What time is it?”
“Ten.” His voice sounds like a smile. My body tingles. I’m not so hungover I don’t remember his lips all over me last night. “Want some coffee?”
I peek out from under the pillow. “How are you functioning right now? And how do you look so good?”
“Same way you look good enough to eat. Again.” His hand slips underneath the covers. “Before you go, there’s one more dream I want to tell you about.”
This is how last night started. Three shots in, he relaxed enough to tell me he dreamed about the feel of my lips. After we kissed, we did more shots and he said he dreamed about the taste of my neck. And about what I’d feel like underneath him. One dream after another, we acted them out, satisfying ourselves with flesh and alcohol until we forgot all about the murders. This man is a master of his own body and last night, he owned mine.
“You have the best dreams, but I have to go.” I climb over him, the only way out of this ridiculously small bed. “Now that you’ve found your tongue and used it, maybe you’ll manage to find my number.”
~
When I got back to the bar last night, I parked in the front and gave Dillon a wave before disappearing into Matt’s building. He would let Gary know where I was and call back any members who had gone out to look for me. I worried Gary or Chopper would break down Matt’s door but they didn’t, and after those first few shots, I forgot all about them.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Randy is leaning on my Highlander’s driver’s door.
“Home.” I sigh. “My head is pounding so I’m not going inside the noisy Grille.”
“The lunch crowd hasn’t got here yet.” He nods to his bike. It’s parked behind my vehicle. “But I’ll take you home, darlin’. Because I don’t think you want to answer to Gary until you’ve had time to sober all the way up.”
I stomp to his bike and slide onto the seat. I don’t feel like driving anyway, and the more I think about the nerve Warren had to walk into the bar last night, the angrier I become. It’s Gary’s conversations with him that gave Warren the courage. So my cousin might be annoyed with me, but I have my own bones to pick with him. Once I get some sleep.
Without forcing any more conversation, Randy drops me at my house and walks around the property while I go inside. I was hoping to have the place to myself, at least until Beth got home from work, but not long after I fell into bed and got comfortable did she come tiptoeing into my room, the squeaky board three feet from my threshold giving her away. I pop an eye open. “You don’t have to sneak, I’m awake.”
“Are you sick?” she questions, not used to me being home through the day.
“No.” I yawn. “Just tired.”
She sits beside me, scooting over until she’s resting against my legs. “Tell me about it. There was no way I was coming back here by myself after that meeting last night, so I stayed at Snoring Arnold’s.” Her eyes bore into the one of mine I’ve managed to keep open. “Did you know? About how the women were beaten and…cut?”
I rest a forearm over my eyes, the visions of Samantha and Layla too much to handle. “I didn’t know all of what Chief reported last night, but he’d told me some of it.”
Her swallow echoes through our silence. “Layla was beheaded, and the others weren’t. So what does that mean? Two killers are out there?”
I move my arm and open it wide for her. She slides down in the bed and curls against my side. I press my lips to her temple. “Whatever Chief is seeing in the case files, he’s convinced the same person is responsible for all five, so let’s not add more, okay?”
“It just doesn’t make sense,” she whispers. “Last night he said the third victim was asphyxiated, and only three of the four who still had their heads showed signs of head trauma. How can it be the same killer? Don’t those guys have a signature or something? A pattern?”
I smooth my fingers over her hair, offering what little comfort I have to give. “I guess Chief is looking at the actual cause of death being the filleting, not the other things. So he’s linking them that way.”
“So…” she sniffs, “they’re almost killed, and then resuscitated or something?”
I knead my fingers along the tense muscles of her neck. “It sounds like the monster gets off on watching them bleed out, so yeah, I guess maybe he’s doing it like you say.”
Typically, the front door opening wouldn’t scare me, but the blanket of trust I’ve had surrounding the people in this town is gone. I sit up and slip away from Beth, gently sliding open my nightstand drawer and retrieving the pistol. I press a finger to my lips, silencing Beth. “Where are the wolves?” she mouths.
I don’t answer her. It could be one of the club members in the living room, but I’m not taking any chances. I slink toward the bedroom door, eyes trained on the hallway. “Tessa!” Mom’s voice rings out from the location of the kitchen. Beth and I both sigh.
Straightening, I move back to my nightstand and put the pistol away. Beth swings her feet off the side of the mattress. “I think we should have a new rule. No convicts in the house.”
I frown at her. “Mom’s only been to jail because she covers for Dad.”
If it weren’t for the despicable man she married, Mom could have been something. She sings like a canary and in her day, she was known as a true beauty. Instead of cashing in on either of those, she married a man who beats and berates her, one she defends even though he uses her as a pawn on top of everything else. It’s never his name on the bad checks, only hers. He’s just the one beating her until she writes the check they both know will bounce.
Mom makes it to the bedroom door and leans against the frame, leveling a glare at me. I lift my hands in a guessing gesture. “No black eyes, so I assume you’re not here to ask if you can move in?”
“Don’t sass your daddy like that,” she snaps, her full lips pressing together and her thick dark hair shaking. She’s had this twitch for as long as I can remember. A few of her sisters do, too. So it isn’t brain damage from being hit too often.
“If your husband were here, I’d sass him to his face. Instead, you’re here, hollering like your pony is stuck in a fence, and doing it without a nod to the hangover I have. That means today, all my sass is just for you, Mom.”
“You wouldn’t have a hangover if you’d stay away from that boy,” she spits, eyes narrowing. Even angry, she’s still beautiful, though hard years of life have tried their best to wrangle that loveliness away from her. She waves her hand toward nothing in particular. “I told you he’s trouble! But there you go laying with him again, throwing everything away so he can knock you up and leave you with a houseful of mouths to feed!”
I look over my shoulder and Beth mouths “Warren”. I face Mom, wondering if it was Beth who told her I was with him last night. It wouldn’t surprise me to hear she turned me slapping him across the face into something she felt was juicier, hoping word wouldn’t get back to me. I think she spreads lies about me because she knows even if I do hear the rumors she starts, I won’t call her out on them. But I don’t only because she has to know people around here talk to me. This means her lies aren’t really about me; they’re about her need to feel important. And I have thicker skin than most. Rumors aren’t going to tear me down.
Letting Beth have whatever power she attributes to being the one to always have something to say about someone else, I just stare at Mom, waiting for whatever she’s going to throw out next. When I went through puberty and became what some people think is beautiful, she’d brush my hair at night and tell me I was going to be her meal ticket. In those days, if I could have helped her in some way, I would have. But every time she said she was going to leave her lousy husband, it ended up being a lie. Now she doesn’t even attempt to pretend she’s going to leave him. This woman is going to die staring into that man’s face and there’s not a thing this meal ticket can do about it.
Mom’s arms cross. “I heard about you and Warren causing a scene at the bar. Don’t think anyone is fooled by the two of you. He probably told you to slap him so Gary wouldn’t suspect anything. Conniving little punk.”
“Those are strong words.” I mock her posture. “Gary would be mighty upset if he knew you were calling him a punk.”
“You know good and well who I’m talking about!” She yanks her arms free of her body and thrusts them into the air. Behind her, Matt is standing just outside the screen door, flowers in hand and eyes fixed on us. I give him a smile. He smiles back. Mom turns around, face going pale.
I wave Matt inside. “Don’t mind us, Mom is just telling me the boy I was with last night is nothing but trouble. What do you think? Are you worth all this fighting?”
~17~
The lobes of Matt’s ears are red as he steps inside the house. I pad over the old hardwood planks and accept the flowers he’s offering, peeking at Mom over the blooms. She won’t say much now that company is in the room. Neither will Beth. They tend to lose their tongues when people outside the family are around.
He looks at my mom. “I don’t want to upset you, ma’am. I just came to check on Tessa. We had a…late night.”
“Late night, and an early morning.” I correct. That redness climbs over his neck and into his cheeks.
Mom steps forward with a grin, her tone sweeter than honey out of the comb. “It’s alright. Just as long as she’s okay, that’s all we care about.”
His eyes crinkle as he smiles at me. “With a killer running around, I’d say you are worried about her. I doubt she’d go traipsing off alone in the dark, though. She’s too smart for that.”
I set his flowers on the card table that’s next to the door. “There are a lot of things I’m dumb enough to do once. It’s getting me to do them twice that’s the problem.”
“That’s good to know.” He nods toward the door. “Can we talk?”
After last night, I wouldn’t expect Matt to be shy, but as we leave the house he breaks eye contact, looking between me and the old white sedan my mom parked halfway on the sidewalk. “Uh-oh, are you breaking up with me?” I tease. His throat bobs. “I’m just kidding. Last night was fun, and this morning, but there aren’t any strings.”
“I…um…” he stammers, glancing over his shoulder in time to catch the curtain Mom and Beth are hiding behind flutter back into place. “I had fun last night, too. More this morning when we were both sober.”
I lead him down the steps to the street so I can hop up onto Mom’s hood. Normally she’d yell at me for this, but with Matt here, she won’t say a word. “Sober is always better.”
His blue eyes glint, the darker band around his irises drawing my attention. “So we could do that again?”
“Do what? Stay sober?”
He scrubs his face. “I mean, can we go on a date? I’ll cook or take you out someplace nice. Whatever you want to do. I just want to spend time with you.”
As much as people compliment me, very few men ever bother to ask me out and even fewer bring me flowers. “I have to go to the Grille tonight, but we can do something tomorrow.”
A smile splits his face. “Should I pick you up here?”
I slide off the hood. “Sure.”
His fingers glide along my wrist. “How about I make you dinner? I already picked up what I need from the grocery store, I just need to borrow your kitchen.”
I smile. “Sounds like you’re a presumptuous man.”
His hand moves up my arm, eyes igniting. “I know what I want. All that’s left is figuring out what you want, and giving it to you.”
I glance down the street to where Dillon fires up his bike and wonder if Matt would have stopped if Dillon had been parked directly in front of the house. I meet Matt’s passionate eyes. “What I want right now is a shower, but you’re not ready to take that step with me yet.” I kiss his cheek. “You can borrow my kitchen. Just make enough for three because my sister will probably be here.”
~
Dillon drops me at the Grille but Gary isn’t around. He’s off with Chopper questioning someone about Samantha’s murder. I was excited until Brian told me the person wasn’t a suspect, just someone they thought had information. Information regarding Gary’s theory that Sam’s murder was an attack against him and the club.
I reach out to Chief to see if he has anything new to report but as I suspected, that bridge was burned. I’m hoping it’s only singed, though, because he took one full breath before hanging up on me the last time I called.
Chief doesn’t seem to be the only toasty man around me. The Leidolf aren’t as chatty today and I can’t figure out if it’s because I got by them last night or because they’re laser-focused on their hunt.
One man isn’t icing me out, though. I sit in my office and scroll through Matt’s messages. His first text let me know he does have my number. His second said he can’t stop thinking about me. But it’s the third that makes me feel like he isn’t only here until the newness of us wears off. His words don’t make me feel like a fading interest, an object to pass his time until someone else comes along. You have a way of tying my tongue, some kind of voodoo I haven’t been able to get past. But you’re the first thing I saw when I moved to town two years ago, and the instant the landlord told me you work in the bar next to my building, I signed the lease right then and there. You’ve been the bright spot in all my days, Tessa. And I finally get to tell you.
Matt’s been a bright spot for me, too. One of those guys who make you smile because of how nervous they get when you’re around. I wasn’t sure his backwardness was only because of me, though. I’ve never been the only female around when I’ve flirted with him, making tiny beads of sweat sprout along his brow. Sometimes I even thought maybe he wasn’t staring at me but at one of the other bartenders. Now I know he was pining for me, and his attention couldn’t have come at a better time. I need a distraction from the heaviness of these murders, and if anything is to be learned in the aftermath of what these women went through, it’s that life is moment to moment. I intend to soak up every good minute I can.
It’s getting late and Gary and Chopper still aren’t back. I texted Gary but he isn’t responding. So I text Matt. Can I come over?
Anytime, he responds. A smile breaks across my face. I slip out the Grille’s back door and tell Zeno goodnight, giving him a wink before disappearing behind the thick mass of rhododendrons that separates our back lot from Matt’s building. It’s a tight fit but when Gary bought the bar, we checked out the neighborhood, and I remember the pad of concrete just behind the back corner of Matt’s building, where his back door opens to nothing but a wall of yet more rhododendrons. For fire safety, the building has to have a back exit. Now it can be my own personal door.
From the amount of leaves and debris covering the concrete pad, Matt hasn’t ever opened this door before. I beat on the steel slab. He finally opens the door, wearing boxers and a confused look. I grin. “I took a shortcut.”
He reaches for my hand and pulls me against his broad chest. “I knew renting this building would be perfect.”
~18~
It’s nice falling asleep in Matt’s arms. And waking up in them. He gives my butterflies butterflies, and makes all the time I’ve waited just to have him talk to me worth it. I snuggle against him. “You’re right, this building was a great idea.”
