Page 113 of Cruel Delights
Jael’s words from the night of the party at the Winchester float to mind.
Nobody gives a fuck about you playing the piano like some famous dead guy. All the talent in the world doesn’t mean squat unless you’ve got the right connections? Get it?
If she were here, she’d tell me to stop overthinking it. Who helps me doesn’t matter so long as I get my foot in the door.
My mother would feel differently—she’d accuse me of being a fraud. Nothing angered her more than someone who cheated their way to the top. Meanwhile, she struggled and toiled for decades, clutching her dulled saxophone she played with a reed that needed replacing.
You little stupid bitch! Why can’t you just play like he teaches you to play? Why do you have to ruin everything?
I twitch at the sound of her screeching voice, then chase it away with a shake of my head. She’s been invading my thoughts more recently; it doesn’t help that Kaden’s insisted upon asking about my family.
My hand comes up to my temple and I breathe through the throbbing discomfort in my head. I’m going almost two days off my meds. Another consequence of bringing in less income, which translates to another reminder I’m in no position to turn down any help from Kaden.
I step off the bottom step to the opera house as a pair of musicians do so too. They’ve come down the steps side by side with their instrument cases in hand. Judging by the slim size, they must play clarinet or flute.
“I can’t believe he’s missing.”
“It’s unlike him.”
“You said no one’s spoken to him in how long?”
“It’s been over a week,” answers a woman with a blonde bob cut. “Mrs. Kreed has reported it to the police. They’re opening a missing persons investigation.”
The stubby woman on the left clicks her tongue but says nothing else. The two carry on their way and their conversation fades out of earshot.
I can’t bring myself to move. My body’s paralyzed midstep as I stare after the female musicians disappearing down the street.
Shock rings through me and leaves me unable to function. I couldn’t have heard what I think I did; I must’ve misunderstood what they were saying.
There’s no way…
My feet slowly remember how to work. I take one step and then two before breaking out into what can be called a jogging walk. Everyone else on the sidewalk will have to move. I’m not slowing down.
Several people scold me with irritated looks as they get out of my way.
In a few short weeks, it seems disappearances and murders have become a regular occurrence in my life. Jael dropping off the face of the earth and Maximillion’s murder were bad enough. But Fyodor missing too can’t be a coincidence.
And then it hits me. I stop in the middle of the crosswalk to disgruntled noises from other pedestrians and a blare of a horn from a car trying to make a right on red.
My head turns left and right, searching him out. He hadn’t followed me to the cemetery, and I hadn’t seen him coming to the opera house either…
“Grady,” I breathe, then I burst into a sprint the rest of the way through the crosswalk.
He doesn’t answer his phone when I call. My texts meet the same fate. I’ve had him on block for weeks now. Did he put me on block back?
I message Imani and ask her to reach out to him. By the time I’m getting off the subway and turning down the final block to my apartment building, I’m calling his aunt.
“He hasn’t been home since him and Russ had that falling out. What’s the matter?”
My heart beats hard in my chest but I thank his aunt anyway and hang up.
Grady’s been following me for days. Today happens to be the first day he’s nowhere to be found.
After Jael’s disappearance. After Maximillion’s murder. After I’ve just learned Fyodor has joined the list.
A common thread is emerging, and I can’t unsee it.
The last time Grady and I spoke, we were arguing on the stoop to my apartment building. He demanded I look into Kaden. He said Kaden wasn’t what he appeared to be. Though I was pissed with him, I’d logged onto my computer, and done some sleuthing online. Not the first time I dug into Kaden’s background. I found nothing new.