Chapter Nineteen
Harlow
“Harlow. It’s me, Vanek. I’m sure you’re beyond angry right now, and rightfully so. But I promise, I have a really good explanation for what happened, if you’ll just give me the chance to explain. Please call me back. I was on my way to see you, when I was—”
She shut the phone off, stabbing her hand down on the screen to the red button, hitting the digital icon repeatedly until it shut off his voice, whatever last words he was saying drowned out by the buzzing roar in her head.
Listening to him try and talk his way out of being gone for over half a day was not something she was going to waste her time on right now. He’d had his chance, and he’d blown it. Spectacularly. She’d made him promise one thing, and that was to never abandon her. It was a simple request, and yet he’d done it.
And what did he expect after doing that one thing? That a simple phone call and explanation would make it all better? Did he not realize that this went deeper than that? He could have the best explanation in the world, but it didn’t change the fact that he’d gone somewhere else instead of come to her.
She wasn’t his top priority.
That hurt, being pushed to the side like that. Cast aside and told you weren’t good enough to warrant someone’s attention? Let alone the attention of someone you’d let yourself believe cared for you. The knowledge ate away at her stomach, a constant pain that had been amplified by the sound of his voice. She simply couldn’t listen to his message. Not right now at least. Maybe in a bit she’d do so, and then they could talk.
When she was safely in another city, and unable to be charmed by his exotic features and delicious body. Then, and only then, would she consider listening to his message. If she ever did. It would probably just be easier to move on, to pack up and go and never look back, leaving it all in the past.
Vanek had provided her with some seriously steamy memories that would probably haunt her on the lonely nights to come, leaving her hot and bothered and with nothing but herself to deal with, but so what? It was better than being hurt. Again.
“Fucking asshole,” she muttered.
“Pardon, ma’am?”
Harlow looked up, seeing the cab driver meet her eyes in the mirror. “Oh, nothing. Just men being unreliable and disappointing me.”
The cab driver, being a male himself, wisely said nothing and just nodded, focusing back on the road.
“This one right here,” she said a handful of minutes later, pointing to the building on the left. Pushing some cash into his hand, including a decent tip for knowing when to stay quiet, she got out and walked over to the warehouse the city had loaned her. Their generosity had finally run out, and they’d told her she had two more days and then they would need her to leave.
That was fine with Harlow. She’d be gone before the sun started to set, moving on to the next town, the next hopeful show. She’d decided not to sell the business, not yet at least. The biggest parade day of the summer was coming up in the next few weeks, and she hoped to be able to find a contract in one city or another for work. If nothing materialized by then, Harlow would list the company for sale.
She undid the numerous locks on the door, shaking her head at the newness of it all. Vanek had told her the story of his frustration, and then his ashamed apology to the building owner and paying for the new door. It had made her smile at the time, but now she was over it. All it was, was another reminder of Vanek.
Behind her the sun slid behind some clouds. Glancing up, she noted the dark gray of the sky. It was going to storm soon, and she was glad for the shelter of her warehouse. In the distance thunder rumbled. Perhaps it was going to be sooner than she thought. The light barely penetrated into the warehouse, and she flicked on the overhead lighting panels. The big bulbs took forever to brighten, meaning most of the warehouse would be gloomy in the meantime.
Pulling out her cellphone, she closed the door behind her and hit the flashlight option. The flashlight lit enough of the space in front of her that she could get over to the first float. Besides the broken one, all of the others were packed up. Frames had been unclamped and lifted into their vertical transport positions so they could fit on the big-rig, a modified vehicle transport trailer.
Holding the phone in one hand, she got her keys out in the other, shoving them into the ignition. This was it, the first step in getting the hell out of Barton City. With a flick of her wrist she turned over the engine. It coughed and rattled once, the headlights flashing into the darkness for a split second.
They died at the same instant she saw something move in the shadows.
Inhaling sharply, the hairs on her neck prickled.
“Hello?” she called, beaming the little light from her phone around nervously. The lights overhead were still warming up, and it would be minutes yet before they shed any light on the floor of the warehouse.
Desperately she turned over the ignition again, but the engine didn’t want to start. In the dark she thought she heard the sound of something scrape against the concrete.
“Who’s there?” Her voice echoed crazily in the silence.
Fear getting the best of her, she slipped from the cab after cautiously checking with her phone first. The light let her see a few feet in front of her, but after that the gloom took over and she couldn’t see a thing.
Praying that she was dreaming, she started back toward the door, desperately wishing she’d left it open for the little bit of light it provided. There was a small exit light above the door that guided her way.
Something sounded from off to her left and she screamed. Dropping her phone, she ran for the doorway.
Halfway there something flew out and shattered the exit sign, plunging the warehouse into darkness. Harlow tripped in the sudden dark and went sprawling across the floor, bouncing and spinning, completely disoriented by the fall.
The only light she could see was the dim glow from the bulbs in the ceiling, still far too weak to illuminate anything. Wishing desperately that she hadn’t packed up her workbench and its lights the night before in preparation for leaving today, Harlow started toward the exit again.
She thought. She looked around, trying to find her bearings. The new sliding door didn’t have a window in it, unlike the old one, and when she’d fallen she’d gotten turned around. Was the door straight ahead of her? Or was it off to her left.
Why weren’t the overhead lights coming on at all? They should have been starting to light up by now! Harlow was panicking, sure that she was hearing sounds coming from all directions.
“Please stop this!” she called, horrified at the warble in her voice.
Something scritched on the concrete floor behind her. Stumbling again, Harlow pushed herself backward on her hands and feet, trying to back away from the sound.
Scritch.
Then silence.
Scritch.
It was coming closer. She screamed again and got to her feet, hands out in front of her as she yelled for help. Her hand grasped something and she realized it was her phone. Picking it off the ground she turned it over, the flashlight still on, though it had been facedown. Holding it up in the direction of the noise, Harlow’s entire arm shook violently as she saw the menacing creature emerge from the shadows.
It was all black, and moved forward with a lurching, humping sort of walk-movement that evoked her worst nightmares. It was a faceless abomination that came closer, making no noise at all. Harlow screamed and tried to back away, but it stayed pace with her easily, coming closer as her back hit something.
She jumped, but the cool metal of one of her floats told her that it wasn’t another creature.
“Go away!” she shouted, her arm barely able to hold the phone up to watch as it came closer, the skin rippling in anticipation now that it had her trapped. She wanted to both vomit and run away as fast as she could at the sight of it.
An arm extended toward her, its point aimed at her chest.
Harlow curled into a ball, frozen by fear.
Behind them the sliding door clanged open and the warehouse filled with light, outlining the shadow of a man.