Ghosted

  “Oh, no thanks.” She waves me off. “He’s a hottie, but he’s not my type. I’m not really into that whole uptight authoritarian kink, if you know what I mean.”

  “What?”

  “That guy of yours. What’s his name? Andrew?”

  “Oh, you’re talking about Drew!”

  “Who else would I be—oh my god, is there somebody else?” She lets out a shriek. “No way, you have two boyfriends?”

  “Of course not.” I scoff as my phone goes off. I glance at it, seeing a message from Jonathan. “I don’t have a boyfriend at all.”

  You’re the queen. I’m just a commoner.

  Those words nearly take my breath away. It’s been a long time since he’s said them to me, so long that my heart skips a beat at the memories.

  “Your face disagrees,” Bethany says, motioning to me as I shove my phone in my pocket. “You’re all blushy.”

  I roll my eyes. “Am not.”

  “Whatever you say.” She turns to leave. “You look how I probably looked when I met Johnny Cunning.”

  “I heard a certain someone walked her to school this morning.”

  I stare at my father sitting on his front porch, casually rocking in his chair, wasting time before he heads off to lead a meeting later. It’s nearing sunset. I ended up working over to make up for being late this morning.

  “Yeah, I needed to get to work, and well, he was there.”

  “Lucky you,” he says, “that he just happened to be there.”

  “Tell me about it,” I mumble, leaving it at that. “Anyway, we should go before it gets dark.”

  “Because he’s coming over to play?” he asks. “Heard about that, too.”

  I cut my eyes at him but don’t respond to that, opening the front door to yell inside, “Maddie, sweetheart, time to go!”

  Footsteps run through the house.

  “I’m not judging you,” my father says. “I just want to make sure you’re being careful.”

  Careful. Squeezing his shoulder, I joke, “Don’t worry, Mom had the ‘safe sex is great sex’ talk with me as soon as I hit puberty. Took me to the clinic, put me on the pill and everything.”

  He cringes. “A lot of good that did. Should’ve taught you about abstinence.”

  “Spoken like a true conservative,” I say as Maddie bursts outside with her backpack. “Besides, you know, say what you will, but it gave us that one.”

  “And she's plenty enough for all of us,” he says, grinning at her when she throws herself at him to hug his neck. “Love you, kiddo. Have fun playing.”

  “Love you, Grandpa! Maybe you can play too next time!”

  “Maybe,” he agrees as she runs off the porch, skirting past me on her way to the car. My father waits until she’s out of earshot before he says, “Be careful, and I don’t mean, you know…”

  “No glove, no love?”

  Another cringe.

  “That, too, but I think you already know that,” he grumbles. “I hope you learned your lesson about going down that road with that boy. No good can come from it.”

  “She came from it,” I point out.

  He looks at me, eyes narrowing.

  “Don’t worry,” I say. “I’m being careful.”

  “You better be practicing abstinence.”

  “I’m twenty-seven, not seventeen.”

  “Doesn’t matter. There’s no ring on your finger.”

  “I’m not really a fan of jewelry.”

  “It’s not about the jewelry.”

  “Not really a fan of archaic vows, either.”

  He scrubs his hands down his face. “Damn liberal hippies.”

  I laugh at that. He used to say that to my mother whenever she challenged him—which was all the time. “Bye, Dad.”

  “I’m serious, Kennedy,” he calls out as I head for the car.

  “I know you are,” I tell him. “Don’t worry.”

  “Don’t worry? Yeah, right.”

  I get in the car, wanting that conversation to be over before I slip up and give away just how deep I am. Sweat coats my back, my hands shaky as I grip the steering wheel and glance in the rearview mirror at Maddie, oblivious to it all as she plays with her Breezeo doll.

  “Is he at home, Mommy?” she asks, glancing at me.

  “Who?”

  “Jonathan,” she says, “so we can play.”

  “Oh, I’m not sure. I guess we’ll see, huh?”

  She smiles, nodding.

  He’s not there, though. He's not waiting when we get to the apartment. Disappointment radiates from her, her smile falling.

  “He’ll be here,” I say, hoping I’m not lying to her.

  “I know,” she says.

  She does her homework, practicing her spelling, and we eat dinner.

  No Jonathan.

  She takes a bath, putting on her pajamas, while I call him.

  Voicemail.

  Another hour or so passes before I finally change out of my work uniform. I check on Maddie in the living room, finding her fast asleep, the first Breezeo movie soundlessly playing on the TV, the lights all off. I glare at the screen, at his face staring back at me, making my insides twist up in knots.

  “Asshole,” I grumble, reaching for the remote to turn it off, but a soft knock from the door stops me. I give Maddie a quick look—still asleep—before I head for the door, glancing out the peephole.

  The face that’s currently on the TV greets me.

  Well, there are some differences, of course. The guy standing in front of my apartment looks like he’s been through hell. He hasn’t shaved in a while, and his skin is still peppered with faint scratches and bruises.

  Sighing, I tug the door open. He starts to greet me, but I turn away, walking away, heading for the kitchen to clean.

  Inviting himself inside, he shuts the door and follows, pausing when he glances at Maddie on the couch. “She’s asleep.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you wait so late to show up.”

  “I came by earlier,” he says. “Around four o’clock.”

  “I was still working. You should’ve waited or came back before now.”

  “I didn’t have the chance.”

  “Oh? Something more important to do?” I glance at him when he doesn’t answer. “I called you. You could’ve at least answered your phone.”

  “I had it turned off.”

  “What, didn’t want any interruptions? You have a date or something? Networking?”

  His expression hardens. “Don’t be like that.”

  “It’s just a question.”

  “No, it’s more than that and you know it.”

  I turn away from him and start doing the dishes, trying to shove the bitterness down that’s festering. He’s right—it is more than that. I’m still angry. So angry. I try not to let it show.

  He sits down at the kitchen table. “I had to go to a meeting.”

  I drop the plate I’m washing when he says that, hot sudsy water splashing up at me.

  “So that’s where I was,” he says. “I tried to get here sooner, but the meeting ran a lot longer than I thought.”

  “A meeting,” I say, shaking my head. I know meetings are the epitome of what happens here stays here, and they’re supposed to be anonymous, but I’m not sure how that’s possible in his situation.

  “Yeah, the conversation veered somewhere unexpected,” he says. “Being careful in relationships.”

  I turn to him, horrified. Oh god. “Please tell me you didn’t say anything about us.”

  “Of course not,” he says. “Not even sure what to say, if I wanted to, not sure… about us.”

  Us. There is no ‘us’. There was an ‘us’ once upon a time, but now it’s just me and him and whatever this mess is I’ve gotten into by throwing myself at him the way I did.

  Drying my hands off, I sit down across from him.

  He picks up the Breezeo doll that Maddie left on the table after dinner. “This is wh
at she grabbed for Show & Tell this morning.”

  “I’m not surprised. She has probably taken it a dozen times.”

  He smiles, staring at it, but says nothing.

  “Are you, uh, you know…?” I wave toward him, not sure how to word it. “Okay?”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Am I okay?”

  “You said you had to go to a meeting, so I wondered…”

  “If I fucked up?”

  “No, I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay, you can ask it. I’ve fucked up a lot. But no, I haven’t. Not this time. Not yet.”

  “Yet.”

  He laughs dryly. “Yet.”

  “Well, that’s good to know, but that’s not what I asked,” I say. “I asked if you’re okay.”

  He sets the doll down. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  “Good.”

  “Are you?”

  “Sure.”

  “Are you happy?”

  It sounds like small talk, I know, but it’s so much deeper than that and his expression shows it. Am I happy? I don’t know. “I wouldn’t say things are perfect, but I guess I’m happy. You?”

  “No.”

  His answer is instant. He doesn’t even consider it. He’s living his dream, but yet, he’s not happy.

  “I was happy this morning, though,” he continues, smiling again. “Last night, too.”

  “Last night shouldn’t have happened.”

  “But it did.”

  He reaches across the table, his hand grasping mine. I stare down at it, not moving, even though that voice of self-preservation begs for me to pull away, get some space.

  He squeezes my hand as I meet his gaze. He’s still smiling. He looks happy.

  My anxiety flares.

  “Let’s go somewhere,” he says.

  “Where?”

  “Wherever you want to go.”

  I shake my head. “We can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I have work and Maddie has school. We can’t just go somewhere.”

  “We’ll go for the weekend.”

  “And do what?”

  “Whatever you want to do.”

  I pull away from him, his touch clouding my thoughts. He’s saying pretty words, but I’m not sure I can believe any of it.

  “I’ll think about it,” I say, afraid to say yes even though my stupid heart yearns to. “We should worry about next weekend first. You know, the convention. I mean, if you’re still—”

  “I am.”

  “Okay, but I need details—the where, the when, the how. When are you picking her up, when are you bringing her back, what are you feeding her, can you guarantee she won’t be kidnapped?”

  He laughs as he leans back in the chair, like I’m being funny, but I’m serious. That’s a lot of people, a lot of strangers, and I’m already starting to regret telling him he could take her.

  “I’ll pick her up early Saturday morning. I’ll bring her back late Saturday night. And to be honest, I’ll probably feed her whatever she wants. As far as getting kidnapped, you don’t have to worry. I’m not gonna let her out of my sight.”

  “But I, uh… okay.”

  I don’t know what else to say.

  “Okay,” he agrees, pulling his phone out when it rings, answering it quietly. “What’s up, Cliff?”

  Cliff.

  I get up from the table, not wanting to listen to that conversation, but I catch parts of it as I finish cleaning the kitchen, something about timelines and schedules, meetings in the city and doctors appointments.

  After he hangs up, he stands up, and I think he’s about to leave, but instead he strolls over to where I’m standing and pauses behind me. He brushes my hair aside, and I gasp when he kisses my shoulder. It’s soft, so soft, barely a graze from his lips. Tingles engulf me, a chill rushing through me that makes my knees go weak.

  “We shouldn’t do this,” I whisper.

  “We’re not doing anything,” he says, his right arm snaking around my middle, cast pressing against my stomach as he pulls me back against him.

  He kisses my neck, and I close my eyes, gripping the counter tightly. He marked me last night, like we were some reckless teenagers, leaving love-bites all over. I spent most of the day trying to hide them from people.

  “I’ve made so many mistakes,” he says, his voice barely a breath against my skin, “but I’m not going to make those mistakes again.”

  “I want to believe you,” I whisper.

  I turn my head, glancing back at him, as he leans forward, kissing the corner of my mouth.

  “I should get out of here,” he says. “It’s late, and I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than humor me.”

  I don’t argue, nor do I try to stop him, although I think that's what he wants. He walks away, heading to the living room, where Maddie is still asleep. Curious, I follow, lingering near the front door as he kneels and brushes the hair from her face to kiss her forehead. “Sorry I fucked up tonight, little one.”

  He starts toward the door, eyeing me warily as I block his path. He brushes past me, but before he can go, I say, “They’ll recognize you.”

  “What?”

  “At the convention,” I say. “People will know who you are. How are you going to shield her… how will you protect her?”

  “That won’t be a problem. Nobody will know.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  He laughs as he opens the front door. “That’s what cosplay is for.”

  Chapter 16

  JONATHAN

  Knightmare.

  Breezeo’s archenemy.

  Where Breezeo is light, a breath of fresh air, the nice breeze on a warm summer day, Knightmare is the storm that rolls in and takes it all away. Darkness, thick and suffocating, the shadows you can’t escape in the night in back alleyways.

  Black leather framed with dark armor, head to toe, from the combat boots the whole way up to the oversized black hood with a metal mask covering part of the face, rendering him unrecognizable.

  I’ve always been envious of the costume.

  Beats the damn pseudo-spandex, that’s for sure.

  “I, uh, wow.” Kennedy stands in the doorway of her apartment with a look of awe as her eyes scan the costume. “That’s just… wow.”

  “Wow, huh?” I glance down. “Good or bad?”

  “It’s just, uh, you know…”

  “Wow?” I guess.

  She nods, fighting off a smile. “Wow.”

  I smirk. “It’s the original.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Straight from the second movie,” I say, touching an armored chest plate with a fingerless glove-clad hand. “Well, except for these gloves. The real ones wouldn’t fit because of the cast, so I had to improvise.”

  “It’s, uh…”

  “Wow?”

  “Nice,” she says, touching the costume, fingertips grazing the armor. “Kind of weird seeing you like this, but still, it’s nice.”

  “Thanks,” I say as she steps aside for me to come in the apartment. “I talked them into letting me borrow it. Might not give it back, though. I’m kind of enjoying it.”

  “You should keep it,” she says, her eyes still scanning me as she closes the door. “It’s, uh…”

  “Nice?”

  “Wow.” She smiles playfully as she walks away. “I need to finish getting ready for work. Maddie, you've got a visitor!”

  A moment after Kennedy disappears, Madison runs in. She skids to a stop when she spots me, eyes wide, mouth popping open. “Whoa.”

  I push the hood off, shoving the mask up, her expression changing when she sees it’s me, face lighting up. She runs right at me, slamming into me so hard I stumble.

  I laugh as she hugs me. “Hey, pretty girl.”

  She looks up at me. “You think I’m pretty?”

  “What? Of course.” I kneel next to her, grinning as I press a finger to the tip of her nose. “You look like your mom.”


  “You think Mommy’s pretty, too?”

  “I think she's the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  Her expression shifts rapidly when I say that before her eyes widen. “Even more beautifuler than Maryanne?”

  I lean closer, whispering, repeating her words. “Even more beautifuler than Maryanne.”

  “Whoa.”

  Smiling, I hold a bag out to her. “I brought you something. Thought maybe you’d want to wear it today.”

  She grabs it, not hesitating as she yanks everything out, gasping. She discards the empty bag as she runs off to her bedroom, nearly slamming into Kennedy in the hallway.

  “Careful,” Kennedy says. “Where are you running off to?”

  “No time, Mommy! Gotta get ready!”

  “Well, then.” Kennedy stares at her until she disappears, before turning to me as she runs her fingers through her hair, pulling it up. “You sure you can handle this?”

  “I deal with vultures from Hollywood Chronicles,” I say. “I can handle whatever she throws at me.”

  Kennedy doesn’t look convinced. “I heard you caught an assault charge two years ago from punching one of them.”

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  “The front of Hollywood Chronicles.”

  I shake my head. “Those charges were dropped.”

  “Because you were innocent?”

  “More like they were just as guilty.”

  Kennedy rolls her eyes but doesn’t have the chance to say anything. Footsteps run our direction, an excited voice screeching, “Ta-da!”

  Madison stands there, grinning wildly, clad in the little white and blue getup—a Breezeo costume. They’re bringing them out for Halloween but I managed to snag one early.

  “Wow, look at you!” Kennedy says, smoothing Madison’s hair. “Prettiest Breezeo I’ve ever seen.”

  “Jonathan thinks I’m pretty, too!” she says, smiling at her mother. “He told me so!”

  “Did he?” Kennedy asks. “Smart man.”

  “And you, too,” she says. “He says you’re the beautifulest woman in all the world.”

  Damn. She ratted me out.

  Kennedy seems taken aback.

  “Well, that was nice of him,” Kennedy says. “I have to get going. You have fun, okay? And be good.”