The Sinister Silhouette

He nods. “Good business move.”

Mom walks out carrying two plates, and hands one to Dad. He leans down to kiss her, then they both walk to the couch. Theo’s kitchen table is too small for all of us to sit at, so some of us have to migrate to the living room. Ella walks out with her plate, and Vicki and I move into the kitchen next.

Aria, Theo, and Jules are already at the table eating. I grab a plate and start piling it high with food.

“Leave some for me, will ya?” Vicki snarks snidely.

Just to piss her off, I grab another deviled egg and stuff it in my mouth.

“Asshole,” she mutters.

I smirk then move down and put two pieces of chicken on my plate. I feel eyes on me, but I ignore them. Grabbing a beer out of the fridge, I’m just about to leave the kitchen to eat, but then decide to torture myself and act the bastard by staying in the kitchen.

I set my beer down, turn with my plate in hand, and lean against the counter. I take a couple of bites before lifting my eyes to the occupants of the table, who have been quiet since I walked in the room. Aria, oblivious to the tension, is currently stuffing her face. Theo’s not eating and glaring at me, while Jules sits there stiffly, looking between Theo and me.

The motherfucker that I am enjoys the rigidness in Theo’s body. I know he’s silently wishing me to hell, and I don’t know why I’m provoking him. Maybe it’s the way he’s sitting too close to Jules. Or maybe it’s the way his arm is resting possessively over the back of her chair, even though it’s plain to see it’s making her uncomfortable. It could be the look I saw in his eyes when he spotted us looking at each other in the living room, like he was damning us both.

Or it could just be my unhealthy infatuation with her.

No matter the reason, I’m here now, I’ve seen Jules again, and damned if my ravenous hunger to be around her hasn’t grown stronger. No way am I leaving her vicinity when she’s close by.

I take another bite, then set my fork on my plate and regard Theo.

“Abe wants to know if you’re still interested in kickboxing classes for Aria,” I inform him.

His eyes are still shooting daggers at me, but thankfully he reclines back in his chair, which forces him to drop his arm from Jules. Her shoulders sag with the extra space.

“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to afford it now. I need to look at my finances first.”

“Ah, come on, Dad!” Aria whines. “I wanna learn how to kick some ass!”

Jules sucks in a breath at Aria’s language. My jaw clenches because I know the only reason she knows the word is because Theo uses it in front of her a lot, even after the urging of our parents, Ella, and me to watch his language. I swear, me and the rest of the family have been more of a parent to Aria than Theo has.

“Aria.” I say her name firmly. She looks at me, biting her lip, knowing what she did wrong. “You know you’re not supposed to say that word.”

“Back off, Luca. She’s not your kid,” he growls.

I glare at him. “Then parent her better, Theo,” I throw back at him.

“Sorry,” Aria mumbles, her little legs swinging under the chair.

“Anyway,” I state, “I can cover her until you get things figured out. The new classes start soon, and it’s better if she starts from the beginning.”

“Please, Daddy,” Aria begs, already over being reprimanded. The girl can bounce back from anything.

I can tell Theo doesn’t want to give in. He’s never had a problem with taking offers before, so I know it’s just me he doesn’t want to say yes to. His jaw tics, and the hand holding his fork is tight. I wait him out, knowing he’ll eventually give in. I’m proved right a moment later.

“Fine,” he bites reluctantly.

“Yippee!” Aria yells.

I pick up my fork and resume eating. Theo and Jules do the same. My eyes keep drifting to her, no matter how much I try not to look. Every time I do, I can feel the heat of Theo’s eyes on me. The room is silent, except for the clinking of silverware against porcelain.

“I’m done. Can I go play with Pa now?”

Theo pulls his eyes away from me and regards his daughter. “Yes, but put your plate in the sink first.”

She hops from her chair, carries her plate to the sink where it clangs inside the basin, then she runs off. I grab my beer and take a swallow. It turns silent again.

“Hey, son, you’ve got a package you need to sign for at the door,” Dad says, popping his head in the kitchen.

“You can sign for me.”

“Guy said it has to be you.”

His nostrils flare as he gets up from the table and storms out of the kitchen, not wanting to leave me alone with Jules. Just before he steps through the doorway, he shoots me a warning look. I keep mine passive and take a swallow of beer. As soon as he’s out of sight, I point my eyes to Jules. She’s watching me too. Her fingers twist her fork over and over again, giving away her nervousness.

“How have you been?” I ask.

She puts the fork down on her plate and picks up her glass of water but doesn’t take a drink. She looks at the liquid for a moment before putting it back down.

“Good. It’s nice being out of the hospital.”

“You settlin’ here okay?”

She hesitates for only a second before nodding. “Yes. Theo has been great. And little Aria is wonderful to be around.”

Her words say one thing, but the small glimpse of apprehension I saw flash in her eyes before she had a chance to plaster on a fake smile says another. I learned from an early age how to read people, and that disquiet sets off alarm bells.

My back straightens against the counter.

“Jules.” She looks up from the napkin she’s tearing apart at my firm tone. “If anything happens that makes you feel uncomfortable, you know you can call any one of us. Do you have Mom’s, Dad’s, and Ella’s numbers?”

I purposely leave out my name. I don’t think Theo would be okay with my number in her phone.

“Yes. Theo gave me a phone and his mom programmed in their numbers.”

I nod. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call one of them.”

“Thank you. I will.”

I take my plate to the trash and dump the few leftover scraps, then carry it to the sink, rinsing both mine and Aria’s and putting them in the decrepit-looking dishwasher. The thing needs to be retired and replaced.

“Have you had any memories return?” I ask once I’m finished. I go back to my spot against the counter.

“No.” She looks down at her lap before lifting her head again. “I’ve been having weird dreams though.”

I cross my arms over my chest.

“What kind of dreams?”

“Umm…,” she begins, purses her lips, then continues. “They’re different sometimes, but the one that happens the most is me in a black room. It’s so dark I can’t see anything. I feel like I’m looking for something, but I’m lost and don’t know the way.”

Her words freeze the air in my lungs. I’m motionless, except for the rapid beat in my chest.

“I try to yell for help, but it’s like I’m paralyzed and can’t move or talk. I feel a presence, and it scares me. It sinister, like it wants to hurt me.” Fear glimmers in her eyes, and her voice lowers. “Sometimes there’s a silhouette of a man. I don’t know who it is, but I feel the menace radiating off him.”

She stops talking, but her eyes hold consternation, like she wants me to explain her dreams to her. I’m speechless, because I have no fucking clue what to say. I’m confused myself. It could just be a coincidence that we’ve both dreamed of being in a black space, but I highly doubt it. It’s too fucking weird. No, we’ve both dreamed of that place for a reason, and I really don’t want to think of that reason right now. I’ll do that shit later when I’m away from her and can think clearly.

I clear my throat and ignore the bad feeling forming in my gut.

“What about your other dreams?”

Colors fills her cheeks and her eyes slide away from mine. Something tells me I’m not going to like these dreams either.

Alex Grayson's books