Page 115 of Cruel Delights
“He’s been stalking me and now he’s nowhere to be found.”
“Ly, you’re gonna have to be more specific. What the hell’s the issue? I’m not seeing it. You’ve been wanting the guy to back off. It sounds like he finally has. Youshouldbe celebrating.”
I grip her arm and then take another glimpse around us. The only other person in the shop is the mousy woman and she’s admiring a pair of pink furry cuffs. I drop my voice a couple decibels anyway.
“You don’t think it’s weird that everyone is disappearing or dying off?”
“Everyone as in…?”
“Jael and Maximillion for starters. Then, I overheard that Fyodor Kreed, the guy who I auditioned with at the opera house, has been missing for over a week now!”
“And you can’t get a hold of Grady,” she says slowly.
“And he’s been telling me that Kaden’s not who he says he is.”
“Wait… let me get this straight. You think Kaden’s behind these things?” A perturbed expression blooms across Imani’s face and she looks as horrified as I feel on the inside. “But there has to be some other reason you seem to think it’s possible? I thought things with Kaden were going well.”
“They are. It’s just… I don’t know… I’ve been feeling like something is off.”
“You did say that.”
“He was there the night at the Winchester, Imani. He knew who I was and intentionally bumped into me at Urban Greenery.”
Her eyes double in size. “You’ve never mentioned that part before.”
“There’re moments where he seems… very… dark. As if he’s keeping some other part of himself hidden. I can’t put it into words, but it’s scary.”
“Girl, what?! Why have you never mentioned this?”
“And then there’s the bloody shirt I found in his hamper—”
“I’ve heard enough. We’re calling the police.” Imani fishes her iPhone from the pocket of her denim overalls and brings up her call app.
The mousy woman waves goodbye as she walks out the front door, oblivious to our panicked exchange.
“Have a good day!” Imani calls out, faking a smile and waving.
The second we’re alone, she darts out from behind the sales counter and locks the door.
“Don’t call the police,” I say. “Not yet. I don’t have any proof.”
“Who needs proof? This guy sounds like a psycho. Let the cops get the proof and handle all the rest.”
“But what if I’m being paranoid? What if Grady’s just on another bender and everything else is a coincidence? Heisa surgeon—so what if he had blood on his shirt?”
“Who are you trying to convince? Me or you? I’m calling.”
“Not yet!” I exclaim, watching her finger hover over the ‘9’ on the number pad. “Just give me a few more hours. Then we’ll consider the police. Grady’s aunt is supposed to call me back. She was going to reach out to other family to see if they’ve seen him.”
“You like him,” Imani says. The perturbed expression deepens on her face. “Youlikethis guy, don’t you? You’re in denial and don’t want it to be true.”
“I do like him, and I don’t want it to be true, but I’ll do what I have to do. I shouldn’t have come by asking for help. It’s too soon when I have no proof.”
Imani folds her arms. “You have twenty-four hours. If you don’t go to the authorities, I will. I’m not about to have my bestie join the missing persons list.”
* * *
I promise Imani I’ll keep her posted the moment I have an update. We embrace in a sisterly hug—rare considering neither of us are huggers—before I’m on my way.