I shook my head. “He’s here…” I choked out on a guttural whisper.
She shook her head, her black curls bouncing along with her. “Boo, he’s not. He’s dead. You’re in the middle of a shoot in downtown Chicago. Behind me are your clients and the photographer.”
I looked over her shoulder at the myriad of bodies standing around and staring at us. I clenched my jaw realizing I’d had another moment. That’s what we were calling them. “Moments.” Which was essentially a really kind way of describing my mini-freak-outs. I lost all time, space, or any sense of where I actually was and found myself stuck back in that basement with a serial killer. The place where both Simone and I watched our sister Tabitha sacrifice herself in order to save us.
Tears filled my eyes and started to fall.
“Okay, that’s a wrap. Bring me her robe.” Blessing snapped her fingers at the young fashion design student that she had mentoring under her.
The girl brought my robe and Blessing helped me put it on over the delicate pink bra and panty set I wore.
I wrapped my frozen form and allowed the soft chenille fabric to remind me there were soft and beautiful things I could count on to bring me back to the here and now. Something sizzled in the air, an electricity I could feel that forced me to look up.
Click.
The photographer on the job took a random, candid shot. He was positioned at the lens, his face hidden behind his equipment. I hadn’t been concerned with who was behind the camera, only that this was my first job back after the incident. Now I needed to see the individual or I might go back to when “he” was taking pictures and filming me.
All I was able to see was the man’s long, sandy brownish-blond hair falling around his shoulders. He moved his face and his brown-eyed gaze met mine.
It was as if in that second he saw right through my eyes to the empty, broken, frightened woman beneath the perfect hair and makeup.
Click.
I twitched as gooseflesh rose on my skin, but as long as I looked into those earthy, tranquil brown eyes, I felt grounded. No longer floating aimlessly across an endless expanse of deep, pitch-black waters with no hope for shore. In his eyes, I found my footing. I curled my toes against the cool floor, cementing where I was in that moment.
This man, the photographer with his soulful eyes, trimmed beard, and mustache, held me centered to the here and now with a single look. No longer was I wading back into the dark memory of that night when my entire life changed.
I removed the robe, stared into his gaze, and handed the robe to Blessing. “I’m okay. I’m going to finish.”
“You sure? You don’t have to. The clients understand what you’ve gone through. They’ve agreed to Photoshop the scars marring your arms, but I know them well. They’ll understand if you’re not ready,” she assured me.
I shook my head, my gaze set on the photographer.
I lifted my chin toward him. “I’ve never seen you before.”
One side of his lips twitched up into a small yet sexy smile. “I’m new to fashion photography. And if you’re okay to continue, I’d love to finish.” His gaze darted to the lens. “We’ve gotten some great shots. Most of them after you took a breather. You’re a wild beauty. The camera loves you.”
I smiled. “That’s what they all say when a half-naked woman is standing in front of them.”
He chuckled and the rich baritone sound warmed my body from the inside out.
“I’m Addison Michaels-Kerrighan. And you are?”
“Killian Fitzpatrick.”
Interesting name for an intriguing man.
“You ready to continue or do you want a break?” he asked, no hint of judgement in his tone.
I pursed my lips. “As long as you don’t hide behind the camera,” I stated shakily, then added a soft, “Please and thank you. Apparently, faceless men behind cameras are a new trigger for one of my moments.” As soon as I’d shared that, I balked at my own stupidity. I had no idea why I’d given up something so personal to someone I didn’t know, besides the fact that he had honest, kind eyes, great hair, and a sexy smile.
“I’m here for you, whatever you need.”
Surprisingly, I laughed. “Again, that’s what they all say,” I teased, taking a deep, cleansing breath and letting out all the fear and ugliness that had crept up.