I nodded and unclenched my hands that had at some point balled themselves into fists. Taking a deep breath, I walked forward, my steps calm, normal, unhurried.
When I breached the doorway, I laughed lightly at myself, and continued down the hall. When I didn’t immediately hear him follow, I glanced over my shoulder and our eyes met. His features had rearranged themselves into a mask of indifference, I was once again furniture. But he was behind me, and he was following.
Just, following from a distance.
7
Special Relativity
*Abram*
* * *
I’d been wrong.
Not everything about Mona was a lie, and this made me want to murder someone.
I kept ten feet away from Mona DaVinci as she walked down the hall, and as she climbed the stairs to the second floor and walked down another hall. Her wild eyes, the way her skin had gone from flushed to waxy in the span of twenty seconds were responsible for my murderous thoughts, and reminded me of another time, when I’d stumbled across her in the dark.
Sitting in the large front room of her parents’ Chicago house, pushing her dark hair from her beautiful face, she’d had the same wild look in her eyes. The intensity of her reaction at the time hadn’t been part of the lie. Unfortunately.
Since her panic wasn’t an act, then there was a reason for Mona’s freak-outs, her dislike of being touched unexpectedly, closeness, and apparently closed doors. It didn’t take a genius to connect the dots: the reason for her freak-outs was a person, and what that person had done to her. This knowledge made me as frustrated and irate now as it had then.
What happened to her?
I’d speculated often over the years. Initially, the mysterious incident was blamed for Lisa pushing me away. As time passed, especially once I’d realized the truth, I’d wondered whether it had been part of the pretense. Did she overreact to distract me? Gain my sympathy? Make me care for her?
No. It was real. She’d been harmed at some point.
Whether it was instinct or what, this knowledge turned my mind to vengeful thoughts, but not against her. Revenge for her, for her peace, for justice. Someone needed to suffer for making her suffer.
Mona reached a closed door in the hallway. I stopped, maintaining the careful distance, willing to do just about anything to avoid seeing her panic again, especially when the panic had been caused by something I’d done. She knocked on the door, paused, and then opened it. Just inside the room, she turned and motioned me forward, her eyes lifting no higher than my chest.
“If you still have time,” she said, giving me a smile that touched only her lips.
At my approach she took a small step to the side, providing more space for me to enter. But once I was in, she surprised me by closing the door. My attention dropped to the handle as she moved further into the room. She hadn’t locked it.
“Abram.”