* * *

The air was acrid with the smell of burning fuel, fabric, plastic, and another sickly sweet odor. I wretched.

Stabbing pain shot through my pelvis and down my leg, making my whole body ache when I moved. It was impossible to focus on anything outside of the physical agony.

I turned my head toward the couple seated across from me. Through the smoke I could see the shallow rise and fall of the man’s chest. Overhead compartments lay wide open; personal belongings vomited violently about the cabin. The oxygen masks hung like victims of mass suicide, swaying slightly in a breeze that should not exist within the confined space.

The plane had crashed. And I was alive. I needed to get out. With shaky, uncoordinated fingers I unclasped the seat belt. My body felt leaden as I hoisted myself up and stumbled awkwardly to the couple across the aisle. My right leg wasn’t working right. Pain radiated through me, robbing me of vision, but I had to move. Death was everywhere.

Gently, I shook the man’s shoulder. He moaned before he opened his eyes and turned to his wife.

“Muriel?”

She was bone white, her eyes closed, chest still. He ran a finger over her cheek.

“Sir, we have to get off the plane,” I said softly and tugged on his arm.

He shook his head. “I’m staying.” Though he was breathing, his eyes were dead. He was already a ghost.

I stumbled away, passing from the safety of the first-class cabin into the chaos and destruction that made up coach. There was so much blood. I gagged on the smell of burning flesh and freshly spilled life. My stomach heaved, and the contents spilled out into the aisle in front of me. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the horrific scene before me, passengers broken and trapped between collapsed seats. Bodies were strewn about in haphazard disarray, limbs bent at unnatural angles.

And then I saw him, contorted impossibly. Connor.

I could hear my own breath coming fast and shallow in time with the rapid beat of my shattered heart. There were no sounds of life, no cries for help, just eerie quiet. I knelt before his broken body, the pain in my own all but forgotten.

I lifted the arm he’d thrown over his head. And then the screaming began, because the high cheekbones and wide smile were no longer the way I remembered. Half of Connor’s face was crushed.

* * *

I woke in a cold sweat, screaming into my pillow.

Telling Sarah had not acted like a salve at all. It had torn the wound wide open, and now I was bleeding guilt and anguish with no idea how to stanch the flow.

10

HAYDEN


Friday sucked ass. I had back-to-back appointments all day long. Nate stopped by with his design ideas, but I didn’t have enough time between clients to go over them with him. I promised him we’d do lunch so we could catch up and start planning. I didn’t even have five minutes to run across the street to buy a damn coffee and see Tenley.

As a result I spent the day on fixation overload. I couldn’t stop thinking about Tenley and her tattoo. It was a vicious cycle. At first I would think about the alterations I already made to the design, and then I considered its placement on her back. From there it would spiral out of control, because I started contemplating how I would deal with being around her when she was topless. That kind of thinking invited images of her fully naked. Like I said, vicious cycle. Thank Christ for boxer briefs that kept things in place and shirts that concealed.

Tenley had already disappeared into her apartment by the time I finished with my last client, so I took Jamie up on his invitation to come by his place for a beer. I needed the unwind time, and I wanted to avoid the bar scene. Lisa had gone out with friends and wouldn’t be home until later. Chris decided to come along, rather than engage in yet another evening of try-and-score-with-the-waitress. Apparently he hadn’t made much headway since we were last there. I didn’t comment, since there was still residual tension between us after my confrontation with Damen and Sienna.

Jamie’s place wasn’t far from the shop, so I hopped into his car with the intention of walking home later. Chris followed on his crotch rocket, which gave Jamie a chance to grill me.

“Chris told me about your blow out with Damen.”

“He had it coming. Damen’s always on Chris about merging, like he thinks it’s Chris’s decision.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Come on, Hayden. Chris thinks you’re mad at him.”

“I’m not.”

“You sure about that?”

I’d been short with Chris, maybe a little less patient than usual, but I didn’t think it was that bad. “I ran into Sienna on my way out. It didn’t go well.”

“Well, that puts things into perspective.”

“How so?”

“I’m guessing Chris didn’t tell you Sienna propositioned him after you left?” Jamie asked.

“Are you shitting me?” Sienna could mess with me all she wanted, but there was no way I’d let her use Chris to get to me. She’d manipulated him before, and I wouldn’t let it happen again. “What kind of proposition?”

“The usual kind.”

“Please tell me he didn’t take the bait.” Chris had made some bad decisions in the past, but I couldn’t see him falling for this one. Not again.

Jamie shook his head. “Chris was riled, man. I don’t think he expected it. Anyway, you know how he gets. He’s stressed. He can’t deal when he thinks you’re mad at him.”

“He should have said something.” Chris didn’t usually keep things from me, even if he expected me to get pissed.

“He didn’t tell you because he didn’t want to make things worse.”

“But I’m not pissed at him,” I said, exasperated.

“Maybe not, but he’s got it in his head that you are. You know the way Chris is. He’s not going to be himself until he’s sure everything is copacetic between you two.”

“Christ. If having a girlfriend is anything like dealing with Chris, I’m not interested.”

Jamie snorted. “That is the biggest load of bullshit I’ve heard come out of your mouth in a long ass time.”

“Keep fishing, I’m not biting.”

“Whatever, man. That’s confirmation enough for me.” He gave me one of his all-knowing smiles. “Anyway, what I’m saying is cut Chris some slack. He’s family.”

“I hear you. I’ll let it go.”

Chris and I had been through some rough times, but he was still one of my closest friends. When we didn’t see eye to eye on things, he got antsy. I couldn’t hold it against him, when I’d made my share of unfortunate choices.

“Maybe now he’ll get why I don’t want to associate with those people anymore. Sienna isn’t happy unless she’s causing problems.”

“Don’t I know it,” Jamie said.

“Lisa’s not with any of those girls tonight?” That would be a recipe for disaster. When Lisa ran into the girls from The Dollhouse, she was usually a mess for a few days afterward. I could imagine Sienna baiting Lisa for information, especially after my altercation with her. Lisa’s loyalties might lie with me, but Sienna was good at manipulating.

“No, thank God. She’s out with some girls from one of those classes she takes.”

“She and Tenley seem to like each other. Maybe they’ll start to hang out more or something,” I said.

“Maybe. You want to talk about that situation?” Jamie pulled into his driveway.

“I’m good.” I got out of the car, ending the potential train wreck of a conversation.

Jamie and Lisa lived in an old two-story detached home complete with white picket fence and elaborate gardens. The front porch was painted a vibrant red with black accents because Lisa was in charge of the color scheme. Her imprint was stamped all over the interior as well. Their fridge was one of those ’50s era aqua blue vintage jobs, and the furniture looked like it had been stolen from the set of Leave It to Beaver. It was like standing in a time warp. Except without the plastic covers on everything.

“Beer or liquor?” Jamie asked as he crossed through the living room to the kitchen.

He left his shoes on. It made me cringe. I unlaced mine and arranged them on the mat at the door, beside Lisa’s yellow army boots.

“Beer’s fine.”

I traveled the perimeter of the living room, taking the long way around to check out Jamie’s newest art. He always had one wall in each room on the main floor painted as a mural. The living room boasted a view of a dirt road lined with summer-full trees. The one in the dining room was a work in progress, but it looked like it was going be a full-size portrait of Lisa. Jamie passed me a beer when I came through the kitchen.

“Thanks.” I took a swig. “I’ll be right back.”

“Sure thing.”

He didn’t comment when I bypassed the bathroom on the main floor. There was always a mural in the one upstairs, which gave me the perfect excuse to check out the second floor. I felt better when I knew all the rooms in the house were safe. Residual shit from when my parents died. I flipped on the hall light and climbed to the second floor. The stairs near the top creaked, and a shiver traveled down my spine. As I passed the office and the bedrooms, I reminded myself that Lisa was out with friends. All the rooms were relatively tidy except the master bedroom. Lisa’s clothes were strewn all over the bed like she couldn’t decide what she wanted to wear tonight. It would have driven me insane, but if Jamie was fazed by it, it didn’t show.