mother asked suddenly.
“It was actually kind of fun,” Kate said, surprised. She paused for a moment, still upset with Blaire. She thought that it would be better to keep her distance and guard her heart from disappointment but could sense her mother and father waiting for her to continue. In the end she did.
“That fish must have been pretty strong,” Blaire said when Kate finished her story. She looked at her daughter, noting her flushed cheeks at the mention of the fish.
Kate raised her eyes so that she looked at her mother and nodded. She could feel a flash of hope surge through her body, a hope that she and her mother could have a real relationship, a real bond; but in that same instant Kate stood up, shaking her head to erase the nonsensical thought that she and her mother would ever connect, and walked out of the room.
When Kate reached her bedroom she glanced out the window at the waves and was startled to see a dark figure walking across the beach; his silhouette was lit by the moon’s soft glow. Kate walked to the window and pressed her face against the screen, squinting and searching for that shape in her mind. It wasn’t Rico; Rico was much taller, his muscles leaner than the figure outside her house. She pressed her thoughts, trying to associate this man’s figure with the one trapped inside her mind, knowing that she didn’t have much time before the figure retreated beyond her sight. When it clicked, she wished it hadn’t.
The man walking past her window was the same man that attacked her last night; Kate could sense the rightness in her thoughts, and was certain that it was him.
4
Kate stepped back from the window slowly. She hadn’t turned on the light when she entered and was thankful that her assailant didn’t know she was in her room. She leaned into the shadows, welcoming them, begging them to conceal her whereabouts. Kate watched the man’s figure move slowly, afraid that he could hear her racing heart, afraid that he would find out where she lived. She was afraid that he would come after her again.
Kate continued to step back, and hit a creaky floorboard. She stopped suddenly and flung her arms out to balance herself. In her haste, Kate smacked the contents on her dresser, knocking over glass vases and perfume bottles. She listened in horror as the bottles collided and fell down, smashing on the floor in a loud crash. Down below, the figure stopped walking, and Kate stifled a scream as she sensed his eyes piercing the walls of the house, locking on her.
The figure began to walk toward Kate. He took large steps and swung his arms in wide arcs; his speed indicated that he had a purpose. Kate stood frozen, wondering why her parents didn’t care about the collision they should have heard coming from her bedroom. She stepped back involuntarily and cut her foot on a shard of glass. It lodged in her foot, almost causing her to cry out in pain. This was it; no one would even know or care about what had happened, because no one heard a thing. The figure was about fifty feet from the deck now, and Kate braced herself, deciding not to underestimate him.
When he was so close that Kate couldn’t see his outline any longer, she closed her eyes, waiting for his rough hands to grab her shoulders, to stifle her screams. Nothing happened, and Kate peeked after a couple minutes passed. The man hadn’t broken through her second story window yet, and she strained to hear his footsteps on the deck below. Kate heard nothing. She wondered, momentarily, if he had given up.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Kate hobbled to her bed and sat on the edge. The shard of glass was beginning to hurt. She started to lift her foot and ended up slamming it back down in alarm when she heard pushing and shoving from below. The glass dug deeper into her foot, sending shocks of pain up her leg, but Kate stood up and stumbled to the window. She couldn’t see anything; the scuffle was too close to the house.
Kate relied on her ears instead and pressed one of them to the screen, listening for any indication that her father had caught the creepy man. She halted her thoughts a moment, afraid for her father’s safety. The man could be dangerous or could have a weapon. If he wanted Kate so badly as to come after her two nights in a row, who knew what he was capable of. Kate turned then, half-walking, half-hopping to the door. She had to get to her mother, to warn her. She had to call the police.
A short silence and a sudden bang on the screen enticed Kate to turn around; she was morbidly curious about the person on the other side.
A dark figure clung to her window. Kate’s eyes widened in alarm, and she stepped backward, reaching for the doorknob.
“Kate, its Rico. Please let me in.” Rico’s familiar voice was a quiet whisper, a calming breeze on a hot afternoon. Kate exhaled, not realizing that she had been holding her breath for quite a while. She breathed in deeply, steeling herself.
“What are you doing?” she whispered back.
“Saving your life. What did you think I was doing?” he retorted. His voice sounded strained and annoyed, and Kate imagined that the scuffle must have been hard on him. He breathed, calming his voice so that he didn’t scare Kate further. “Come on, Kate. Please let me in. It’s not easy holding on out here. I’m not Spiderman or anything.”
Kate staggered to the window, afraid of what her foot would look like when she turned the light on. She could feel her sticky blood and knew that it covered her foot and, possibly, the bamboo floors.
When Kate reached the window she expertly pressed the screen in at its weakest points and wrapped her fingers around the edges so that it wouldn’t plummet toward the ground. She pulled it in and stepped back, allowing Rico to enter her bedroom.
“Thank you,” he said before wiping his palms on his jeans. Kate watched as he stood up, straightening himself out. “You’ve gotten yourself in a lot of trouble, Kate. What did you do, pissing off a demon like that? He could kill you.”
Kate stepped back involuntarily, his words like venom. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She was the victim in this situation; she didn’t start this. And what was with him calling the man a demon? Of course he was evil, but demon was a pretty harsh word, even for a serial murderer.
“Well?” he asked again, his tone urgent, condescending.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kate said. “That man just tried to attack me. He’s crazy, and you think I started it?”
“Demon, not man,” he corrected. “Believe me; you would know if he was just a man.”
“Just a man? Demon? You’re the one that’s starting to act crazy. Remind me, why did I think it was a good idea to let you in?”
“Because I saved your life, Kate. Now come on, let’s make progress. We don’t need to keep circling around the same issues. The man is a demon, a child of Darkness, Kate.”
“Fine,” she said, knowing that she wouldn’t get any more answers out of Rico right now, especially since he wasn’t stable. The fight with that man must have ended with a concussion or something on his part.
“Now, tell me what happened after I left you yesterday. I know you lied earlier. I could tell by your voice.”
Kate stood in silence for a moment, gauging Rico. She could sense his quiet confidence, his need to hear the truth from her; she could somehow tell that it was important, that she needed to tell him even if she thought he was slightly insane. She bit her cheek and shifted her weight so that she put no pressure on her injured foot, giving herself time to figure out what she would say. In the end, the truth was better, easier.
“That man attacked me last night. I got away, though.” Kate looked at the floor, ashamed and embarrassed for some reason.
“Did you tell your parents?”
“Not yet,” she admitted. “But I plan on telling them now that he’s come back,” she added.
“Don’t tell them. They won’t understand and the cops won’t be able to help you. In fact, that will make him angrier. It’s a good thing that you didn’t tell your parents, Kate. We don’t want them involved in this.”
Kate bristled. “Don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t do, Rico. That man is crazy and we need the cops to help us put him behind bars. No
w that he knows where I live I don’t have a choice; I have to tell someone before he makes it into my room.”
Rico sighed, shaking his head. This was going to take all night to explain, he thought. He decided to start at the beginning, because starting in the middle wouldn’t work with Kate. “Look, sit down. It’s going to take a while, but you need to hear this,” he stressed.
“I need to get a bandage first,” Kate whispered. “I cut my foot earlier and the glass is stuck in it.” She started to move toward the bathroom that was connected to her room but Rico held out his hand, palm facing her.
“Sit,” he said. “I’ll get it.”
Kate watched as Rico walked to the bathroom and turned on the light. He dug through her drawers, coming back with bandages, alcohol and tweezers. He sat down on the bed in front of her and placed the supplies on Kate’s bookshelf. Using the dim light that escaped the bathroom, he gently lifted Kate’s leg, exposing the bottom of her foot. She knew that it was bad, she could tell just by looking at it, but she was thankful that Rico showed no emotion when looking at the wound; it helped to calm her down while he took out the glass shards and cleaned it.
Kate noticed Rico’s rough, yet somehow soft, hands. They worked quickly and skillfully, like he had done this sort of thing before. He was gentle but firm, making sure that he