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December 13, 9:36 p.m. 05 seconds
(Seacliff, San Francisco)
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Sprawled on the white leather couch in his living room, Kyle was waiting to hear from Juniper. He had sent her 6 texts and written 16 more that he'd discarded. She had not responded. Idiot has probably turned off her phone, even though the jet is fully equipped with inflight Wi-Fi.
Tempted to call the jet’s phone line, his fingers hovered over the keypad until he thought otherwise and flung the phone across the couch cushions. He smiled. So this was what missing someone felt like. He had not felt like that in a long time. There was hope for his hardboiled heart.
He walked to the glass wall and opened the panels. It was already cold in the house and the night air turned the room to a tomb. It matched how cold and empty he felt inside. Reflected in the glass, his dead-at-the-eyes asshole resting face stared back at him.
Since he had met her, 45 days ago, he had been miserable.
This week, he had never been happier.
Tonight, he was miserable again for she was gone. And she had a habit of lingering in the air even when she was gone. There were downsides to this rollercoaster. Juniper meant emotions and emotions brought back Chloe back to him.
And now, he was seeing long gone things. Things he didn’t want to see. Kyle stood in the living room staring at the faint impression of the Golden Gate Bridge in the dark mist. Some of the mist was headed his way. He saw the cloud descend and stop by the patio doors. The cloud was in the shape of a man wearing a long coat and a low hat. It was made up of bees, wasps and flies. Disturbing and still, it just stood there staring at Kyle.
His blood chilled. Grinding his teeth, he shut his eyes. He was seeing the darkness again. The darkness that had been his constant companion for the first 3 years and 6 months after Chloe died. It first made its appearance when he was ten and his mother had left him alone in the house. It had helped Kyle cope with her loss as a kid and, later, with his guilt at Chloe's death. As time passed, his guilt left, but the rage stayed.
His obsessive, lonely, dark thoughts had poured into the air and bred like an orgy of cockroaches.
The collected particles of psychic negative energy had turned into a dark force. On days of loss like this, it was such a strong force, it took physical form. A living light of dark.
Sometimes it crept into the corners of the house like a demonic thing and other times it chatted with him from mirrors. It had been intolerable before the renovation of his grandfather’s house. It used to live and laugh all over the old house. It thrived when the mid-century house still had its original fixtures, green carpets, linoleum floors, brown wallpaper and the strong smell of dust, desolation and anger. Once the house was gutted and renovated, it all but vanished in the modern void.
But today, it was back.
And it was watching him with lifeless eyes.
The void and darkness he could handle.
But not when it stared back.
You’re not real. Go away.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Kyle took a deep breath. He walked backward—away from the cloud, face up, eyes shut. He stopped when the back of his knees hit his old cocktail table. He opened one eye. It was still there...but smokier now. See-through. He looked up, eyes on the distant horizon, past the cloud. Not getting attention, the cloud faded.
He shook his head. Bad time to let the suppressed stuff out.
In one week, Juniper had turned his life upside down.
And his mind inside out.
The phone rang and he jerked to attention. Juniper!
Kyle threw himself on the couch and picked up his phone. To his disappointment, it was Min-Jun.
“Hey,” she whispered. “Kyle. How are you?”
“Are you back?”
“Yes. I’m in D.C. with Colt.”
“It must be 1:48 a.m. there. Still not sleeping?”
“I’m working on it. Kyle, I’ve decided to change my plea to shared custody. What do you think? Shall I move to Detroit?”
“I don’t know,” he mused. “If you move to San Francisco, I’m here for you.”
“I know. I know. And I love you for your support. Listen, Willow called. I’ll be in Ann Arbor for Christmas. Everyone is coming.”
“Is that a good idea? Do you want to really face them?”
There was a pause and then she said with conviction, “I have to. I’ll be able to...if you are there.”
“I won’t be. I’m going rock climbing in Argentina.”
“Please, Kyle. Will you please come on Christmas?”
Kyle thought about Thanksgiving and smiled. Perhaps this time he could break Royce’s left jaw. “Maybe.”
