He walked me through the door, taking me toward unbearable pain.
Unbearable pain that this time I knew Knight would ease.
* * * * *
We walked out the door of my second grade classroom, Knight was gone and I was swept in a flood of water that flowed though the corridor. I tried to strike out toward a door knob, anything to grab on but I was moving uncontrollably toward the wall at the end of the corridor. Then the water and me broke through the wall, the bricks exploding and I was in a swelled, rushing river. Nature all around. Me careening down the river, powerless. Huge boulders rising from the water came at me but the current swept me to the side before I could crash into one and be broken to bits.
I fought, moved my arms, my legs, trying to direct myself to the shore but nothing I did changed the direction the flow was taking me.
I looked to the shore and saw Vivica running along it, her mouth open, her eyes terrified, shouting but no sound coming out. She tripped and fell to her hands and knees and disappeared.
Then there was Sandrine, running like Vivica, eyes on me, fear etched in her face. But suddenly Nick was there. She stopped, looked up at him, smiled and threw herself in his arms. His head bent, her hands went into his hair and they started kissing.
Figured.
Then, weirdly, since I hadn’t seen him in years, there was my high school boyfriend, Sean. He was running along the shore too, his arms moving in a breast stroke, calling out instructions, I knew, even though no sound came out. I did what he said but nothing helped, I kept whirling and gliding violently with the stream.
“Anya!” he shouted, his voice tortured then he ran into a tree and vanished.
And then there was my aunt. She didn’t move. Just stood on the shore, arms crossed on her chest, mouth smirking.
That figured too.
I lost sight of her and kept moving, fighting, exhausted, terrified out of my mind. I was going to smash into one of those boulders. I knew it. I knew.
No, no. Fear pulsed through me as I saw up ahead the river falling away to nothing.
And there I was, alone, lost in a current I couldn’t fight, careening headlong into nothing.
Then I felt him and my head jerked to the shore.
Knight.
He wasn’t running along the side. Without hesitation, he dove in, his long body slicing through the air and into the water then he was cutting through it, his powerful arms bringing him straight to me.
Thank God, Knight.
Thank God, I wasn’t going to face nothing alone.
I’d have Knight.
He made it to me, his arms wrapping around me, one hand sliding up my neck, into my wet hair, cupping the back of my head. My legs fought through the water to wrap around his hips as our bodies met, my arms wrapped tight around him and I held on.
“You’re here,” I whispered.
He didn’t respond. He just held my eyes and held on.
And we slid over the edge, together, holding tight, into nothing.
* * * * *
My eyes blinked open as my body jolted, still in freefall from my dream.
I was breathing slightly heavily, trying to shake away the dream.
I dreamed a lot. It started in second grade. I remembered them when I woke up. They were clear, vivid, powerful. It didn’t happen every night but it happened frequently. Sometimes they were good. Sometimes they were horrifying.
I steadied my breath and shook off my dream.
Then I got up to an elbow, lifting my other hand to pull my hair away from my face and looking to the window with my misty, pretty (but cheap) curtains over the slightly battered Venetian blinds that came with the apartment. I felt under me the abrasive, worn pills of the cheap sheets I’d had too long but I knew, after I bought my new cell phone, new, nicer sheets were on the schedule.
And I tried not to think about the fact that I could still feel Knight’s arms tight around me.
Chapter Three
Filled with Knight
After I parked, I hurried to the trunk, opened it up, grabbed my canvas bags filled with groceries, swinging one over my shoulder with my purse and grabbing the other two. Then I put one to the cement of the parking lot, slammed the trunk, snatched it up and hurried.
It was the Wednesday after the Saturday night party at Knight-slash-Nick’s. Saturday night (or, really, Sunday morning), I’d dreamed of Knight. I’d also dreamed of him Monday night. And last night.
And I couldn’t get him out of my head.
I knew why and there were several reasons. One, he was hot. He might be scary but scary never eradicated hot. Or, at least, not his kind of hot. Two, he’d given me nothing. Well, he’d given me his anger, a hint he had a sense of humor and a tendency toward throwaway chivalrous gestures but other than that, nothing. He didn’t laugh, smile or talk very much. I knew he didn’t like Russians. I knew he didn’t like loud parties, people and mess in his apartment. I knew he had money and good taste or sense enough (and the finances) to hire someone who did. But other than that, I knew nothing. Not even his last name. And, not knowing much, I didn’t want him to but he intrigued me. Three, he’d picked me up and I’d felt his hard-muscled shoulders and the power of his body. It was affecting. I wasn’t heavy but I certainly wasn’t slight. This, too, intrigued me but in a very different way.
And last, after contemplating it for some time, too much of it (like, nearly always), his reaction to my building irked me. He didn’t shield me from his anger or his personality, such as it was, but his clear contempt of my living arrangements (and I was certain this was it), was offensive. It was also, though I couldn’t know this but I felt it, out of character. No one who could show signs of courtesy and take care to be sensitive to the differences in our financial circumstances at the same time pointing them out should behave the way he did when he saw my humble abode. It didn’t fit but it did annoy me.
As I rounded the building and walked up the front steps all of this was on my mind as it had been for days. Along with this I wondered why it was on my mind since I’d never see the guy again. And along with this, what was on my mind was that I couldn’t deny the fact that this was upsetting. Like I knew at a glance Nick Sebring was a jerk, I knew at a glance Knight Whoever was dangerous. I should steer clear. I knew this and the fact of the matter was I had no choice. Knight Whoever and I would not cross paths. Still, I couldn’t help but wish we did.
Which was crazy.
I put my hand holding the handles of one of my totes to the front door of my building, pushed in, my body moving with my push and I slammed right into it mostly because it didn’t move.
Then I blinked.
Then I pushed again.
It didn’t budge.
What on earth?
I noticed movement inside and saw a man wearing gray pants and a matching gray shirt with a patch over his heart declaring his name was “Terry” and he worked for “Avionics Elevators” was coming my way and smiling. Automatically, I smiled back as his hand came to the inside handle and he opened the door.
“Everyone’s doin’ that,” he told me as he held the door open for me.
I stared at him as I walked in and he kept smiling at me.
“Got a notice in your place that has the codes,” he informed me as he let go of the door and it closed behind me.
I looked back, hearing it latch in a way it hadn’t latched in months then I looked back at Elevator Man Terry.
“The door is fixed?” I asked and he nodded.
“Yup, dude left when I got here. Keypad and call system, all a go.”
Whoa.
Then, belatedly, I took him in and my eyes drifted to the elevators that had plastic barricades around with signs on them that said, “Elevator out of order. Men working.” The doors were opened and the naked elevator shaft was in view with work lights dangling inside.
I looked back at Terry. “You’re fixing the elevator?”
“Nope,” he shook his head. “Fixed.
Needed a doohickey. Doohickey replaced, all’s good.” He tipped his head down to my totes and grinned again. “You live on one of the upper floors, you just got help.”
“Cool,” I whispered even though I never used the elevator. This was another irrational fear I had. Buildings crushing me in underground parking lots and elevators plummeting me to my death. I avoided them if I could and since I was capable of walking up two flights of steps, at my apartment building, I did. I noticed his grin got bigger then I took in his patch and looked back at him. “Aren’t avionics about airplanes?”
He shrugged, still grinning. “Boss is a good guy but he ain’t too bright. Knows elevators though. Just doesn’t have much of a vocabulary. I think he thinks he made up the word. He might not be bright but he’s a decent dude so no one has enlightened him.”
“Ah,” I mumbled and he kept grinning.
I started moving toward the stairs, calling, “Well, thanks for fixing it.”
“My job, darlin’,” he called to my back.
I threw a smile over my shoulder and headed to the stairs.
Jeez, wonder if the jerk Landlord Steve won the lottery.
I made it to the third floor, turned into the hall and stopped dead.
Charlie, our rarely seen maintenance man, was on a stepladder switching out a light bulb.
“Yo, Anya,” Charlie called when he spotted me.
“Hey, Charlie,” I called back, moving toward him. “I see you’ve been activated too.”
“Sho’ ‘nuff,” he confirmed the obvious.
I stopped at the side of the stepladder and looked up to watch him screwing in a light bulb. “What lit a fire under Steve? Did someone call the building inspector or something?”
Charlie climbed down and grinned at me. “No idea, doubtful though. Do know the man got roughed up. Split lip so fat it’s a wonder he can talk. Eye purple and swollen shut. Holdin’ his body funny so whoever it was took some shots at his ribs. Totally fucked up. That one plus his one of callin’ on me made two so I’m thinkin’ Gearson in apartment 2C. His woman had a baby. Does shit to a man, especially when his bitch or him has gotta drag that stroller down a flight of stairs anytime they wanna take that kid somewhere.”
I could see this. I knew Wash Gearson. He was quick to smile, if he saw you carrying stuff into the building, he’d help you with it, he always opened the door and let you go through first and he loved his partner and new, adorable baby. They had a two bedroom on the second floor and I knew Wash got in Steve the landlord’s face regularly. And seeing as Wash was a big, somewhat soft but definitely not a guy you messed with black dude and Steve had messed with him, Wash had messed back.
I didn’t condone violence but I wasn’t going to say no to a security system, an elevator that worked (even though I never used the latter, others did) and lighting in the halls that didn’t make the place look ripe to become a location for a slasher flick.
“I don’t think I’d let Wash hear you call his woman a bitch,” I advised quietly but still grinning.
“He calls her his bitch and we share the same lingo.” This was true enough. Wash’s mouth was even fouler than Charlie’s which was going to make child rearing interesting in the Gearson household. “Think he’d be cool,” Charlie went on. “Especially when I fixed his fridge last week after he called me direct ‘cause Steve didn’t do shit for three days. This could be what tipped him. Though, call Bertha, Bertha to her face.”
Bertha, Wash’s woman, had an unfortunate name. Luckily, her parents gave her glamorous beauty and life gave her a good man who might not make a mint but he loved her so that counteracted her name. I knew this because her smile was as easy as her man’s and she laughed a lot.
“And, get this,” Charlie went on, “monthly schedule. Even if the bulbs don’t need changin’ out, I come in first of the month and change the whole lot.”
I stared at him and whispered, “Really?”
“Really, sweetheart, no fuckin’ joke. Thought I was in an alternate universe when Steve came to see me today. Then again, I saw the results of the visit whoever gave him so I’m also not surprised. You fuck folks around, eventually they’ll fuck back and since no one likes to be fucked unless they wanna be, when they’re moved to do it, they fuck harder.”
Charlie Philosophy. In the five years I’d lived there, he’d delivered it often. It was always liberally sprinkled in curse words. And it was always usually right.
“Words to live by,” I muttered.
“Damn straight, Anya. Fuck only when they wanna be fucked. You never know what’s gonna tip someone and you also never know who you’re fuckin’ knows.”
“I’m not a fuck with people person,” I shared and he smiled.
“Well, just in case you consider a turn to the dark side,” Charlie advised.
“Right, heard, cataloged, filed. Consider your wisdom processed, Charlie,” I assured him and his smile got bigger. I moved as I said, “See you later, honey.”
“Later, sweetheart,” he replied, grabbed his ladder and moved down the hall.
I did the juggling bit at the door to open it, walked through and saw the paper on the floor that had been slid under the door. I closed the door, ignored the paper and walked to the kitchen to dump my totes. Then I walked back, bent to retrieve the paper and turned it to face me. On it was a badly photocopied message.
Dear Tenant,
The building call system has been repaired as well as the security keypad. The new code is 7849. This code will be changed monthly and you will be notified by memorandum as well as emailed with the new codes one week prior to the code changing. If we do not have your email on file, please contact us immediately.
In the next two weeks, Charlie will be installing deadbolts and chains on all the doors. We will attempt to do this at your convenience but would prefer to do this during normal working weekday hours. Please complete and detach the slip at the bottom of this memo and return it to the management office with a time within the next two weeks that would be convenient for you.
As this work takes place, we thank you in advance for your patience.
-Management
I stared at the memo, the first of its kind in my tenure there and definitely more polite than I’d ever expect in a million years coming from “Management” otherwise known as “Steve”, then my eyes drifted to my door. There was one lock, it turned on the knob. I’d never thought anything of it but as I stared at the door, a tingle slid up my spine, the back of my neck and radiated over my scalp.
Knight had stared at that door and what he saw pissed him off.
And now, out-of-the-blue, when I’d never complained about it, though I didn’t know if anyone else did, we were getting deadbolts and chains.
“Babe, please tell me you don’t live on the first floor.”
He’d looked at the elevator. He’d noted the lights.
“Pointless but it’s somethin’.”
That tingle rushed back down and infused my entire body.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“I got this.” I heard Charlie say from outside the door.
“I got it.” I heard another voice I recognized as my out-of-work, moron, slightly creepy, didn’t know how he managed to pay his rent, neighbor Dick whose name said it all.
“No, I said… I got it,” Charlie returned firmly then there was banging at my door.
I moved to it, looked out the peephole, saw Charlie and Dick standing out there and opened it because, although Dick was standing out there, so was Charlie.
“Hey,” I greeted and Charlie stuck out a large, bubble wrap lined envelope at me.
“This came for you. Dick accepted receipt,” Charlie announced. “Now Dick’s goin’ to his place, closing the doors, sittin’ his ass down and thinkin’ of baby bunnies.”
I avoided Dick’s eyes, pressed my lips together, understood Charlie’s meaning but considered that if Dick’s thoughts turned to bunnies they would be thoughts of boiling them o
r torturing them and I took the envelope. The front had a label that was typed and said only, “Anya, 3D”
“Thanks, uh…” my eyes slid through Dick, “guys.”
“Later, Anya,” Charlie said meaningfully, I looked at him, his face told me to close my damned door because Dick was a dick and Charlie didn’t want him around me.
“Right, later,” I replied and did as I wasn’t told but still was.
Then I locked the door that would soon have a deadbolt and chain but my mind wasn’t on Dick or Charlie or deadbolts or sudden activity making my apartment building safer at what had to be a serious cost. My mind was on the bubble wrap envelope that had no address, no last name and I hadn’t ordered anything.
I took it to the kitchen, ripped it open, upended it and a shiny, black box slid out as did a small, business card sized card.
I stared at the box. Then I pulled out the cardboard tag that held it secure, opened the side and slid out the innards.
Then I froze and stared.
In my hand wrapped up shiny and new, nestled in protective foam packaging was a cell phone the likes I’d never seen. Glossy black on its curved shield-shaped outside, the entire front was a screen. I looked at the box and saw the brand. I’d never heard of it. I looked back at the phone and its accoutrement. Then I realized my heart was beating and doing it hard.
I put the box and phone down and tagged the card. It had fallen face down on the counter so I flipped it and stared at the black slashes that formed words.
Anya,
No woman should be without a functioning cell.
K
The tingle came back and it didn’t start at my spine. It just straight out covered my entire body.
I knew no “K’s”. No friend. Definitely no family. No workmates. No one.
Except Knight Whoever.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, my home phone rang and I jumped.
Then I dropped the card and dashed to the one in the kitchen.
“Hello,” I greeted when I put it to my ear.
“Get this, day four almost done, no… fucking… call.”
Sandrine.