Bait

“That’s pretty late to be working,” I comment.

“We’d had an argument,” he says and my stomach tightens. “She spat at me, told me she was going. I’d have chased her… but…” He stops speaking. “I always chased her. We had a… dynamic…”

I nod. I know exactly what he’s referring to.

“Anyway. I didn’t chase her that night. I couldn’t.” He looks right at me, and there’s more. I know there is. Whatever it is drifts away before he voices it. “I didn’t chase her. I swore to myself I’d had enough of it.”

“And she ended up at the warehouse? With Jake? Isn’t that strange?”

“That bit doesn’t surprise me. Not really. But the rest of it doesn’t add up, not if it was an accident. You see, the chemical vats were stored down the other end of the warehouse. We’re careful with fire regulations, always have been. When the place went up, they were at the top end by the loading bay. You could say maybe someone moved them earlier ready to load, but that doesn’t make sense. It wasn’t on the logs.”

“Mariana moved them herself?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Her or Jake. Or both of them.”

“But why?”

“I have no idea,” he tells me. “Not unless they were planning on burning the place down.”

“You think they were?”

“That’s the million-dollar question.” He shrugs again. “Mariana was wild. Unpredictable. She hated the business, said it made me a workaholic, said she was a tiger in a cage, desperate to run free.” He looks away, takes a breath. “I think sometimes that maybe she was trying to punish me, burn down what she thought I held dear.”

“Seems drastic…” I offer.

“And unfortunate. A boiling pot of unfortunate coincidences. The chemicals being piled up in that one ridiculous location, for starters. Then there was the fact that another of our clients was a supplier of animal bedding. Tightly packed sawdust on high racking created a dust explosion of epic proportions.” He sighs. “They know everything but how it started. According to our official documentation, the fire risk procedures were followed to the letter. Mariana wasn’t even an official employee when that fire happened. They’ve struggled to assign any liability, but by the same token they can’t seem to definitively rule out arson.” He sighs again. “Then again, nobody seems to be willing to write this off as a freak accident, either. In truth, nobody knows.”

I think it through. “What about your brother? What does he say?”

“Amnesia. I suspect it’s selective.”

His tone is bitter and I think better of prying too hard in that direction.

When he sighs again I hear just how strained his chest is. How much he’s hurting.

I notice how his fists are clenched under the water.

My stomach flips as if I’m falling. My heart pains as I try to comprehend how he feels.

“How’s that for secrets?” he asks. “Enough?”

Such pain. Such horrible fucking hurt.

I think of her, Mariana. Of her last moments. Of being trapped behind that door with the flames coming for her.

Of the desperation.

He’s rigid as I go to him. Every muscle tense as I press my body to his and hold him tight. My body feels so soft against his firmness. My edges mould to his, skin on skin. My face in his neck as I breathe.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper and he flinches.

I grip a little tighter, flaying my soul alive against his jagged edges until they come to rest easy. He takes a breath. I hold mine.

My brokenness feels tender against his. I feel so small against him.

And then he holds me. Wraps me in arms so huge they could crush me alive but crush me just enough.

I press my forehead to his, stare into eyes that chase me in my dreams. I see his nightmares staring back at me.

“I was her monster,” he whispers. “It destroyed her.”

“You loved her,” I say. “Right until the end.”

“Just be careful the monster doesn’t destroy you too.”

“I don’t want careful,” I tell him. “I just want you.”

“That’s just as well,” he says. “Because it’s now you I’m chasing in the dark.”

His lips press to mine so slowly. He squeezes the breath from me as he holds me tight.

And then he looks beyond me, up to the house above. There’s a light on when I turn my head. A curtain moves.

He answers before I can ask.

“My sister,” he says.

“I’m totally naked,” I say, like it needs pointing out.

It makes him smile just a little. “That comes with the territory.”

I smile back. “I’m not sure your sister will be all that impressed to find a naked stranger in your garden. It’s hardly a great first impression.”

He tips his head. “You may have a point. I guess we’ll have to resume swimming pool nakedness another day.”

I nod. “I think a rain check would be sensible, yes.”

I smile against his mouth as his lips press to mine.