Authors: Lola Drake
Debra pouted, searching for a cocktail waitress.
“I still say we should’ve gone to Vegas.”
“Come on, you love James Beach bar.”
“For Friday happy hour, sure. Not for a freakin’
bachelorette party!”
“Freaking?” Carly asked, her big brown eyes
lighting up in amusement.
“I’ve been trying to stop swearing so much since
I had the baby,” Deb grumbled. “I don’t want her to learn to talk and have her
first words be, ‘Oh, shit.’”
Juliet laughed, taking a few sips of Carly’s
drink as she felt the tension start to evaporate from her shoulders. She and
Carly had been friends since kindergarten, but their lives rarely intersected
anymore. While Juliet focused on becoming one of the most in-demand interior
designers in
Carly enjoyed a more bohemian lifestyle with her artist fiancé Zach and their
two children. They’d been together forever, but had only recently decided to
officially get married.
“So, when are we going to see a ring on your
finger, Juliet?”
“Here we go.” Ashley, perpetually single and
proud of it, rolled her eyes.
Carly continued undeterred. “You need to live up
to your namesake. Get some romance in your life.”
Juliet blushed slightly as she searched for an
answer. Even though she and Brad had been together for nearly five years, he
never seemed inclined to discuss marriage. Still, the relationship suited her.
So what if she didn’t have the same romance or passion that Carly and Zach
shared? Brad was stable and responsible and just as driven in his career as she
was. If that meant they couldn’t spend as much time together as she would have
liked, well, she understood the long hours he had to put in at his firm.
As though Carly’s question had conjured him, a
man who looked almost exactly like Brad appeared in Juliet’s peripheral vision.
She turned, trying to catch a better glimpse of this doppelganger, but the
crowd blocked her view.
“Juliet, what is it?”
The crowd continued to shift as people moved to
and from the bar, and suddenly Brad’s face became clearer. Juliet thought she
even heard his laugh, but that couldn’t be possible with him standing all the
way across the room. Not to mention, he’d told her he would be in
for work.
At first she thought Carly might have arranged
for this encounter as some kind of romantic surprise, since it seemed far too
coincidental they’d end up at the same bar purely by chance. But then she saw a
giggling college girl pressed snugly against him. His hands slid down her body,
skimming the sides of her chest before coming to rest on her perfectly pert
ass. He gave it a flirtatious squeeze. Slowly their lips came together, the
heat between them palpable. Juliet couldn’t remember the last time Brad had
kissed her like that.
Without any conscious thought, she rose to her
feet and moved towards them. She could feel Carly standing behind her, lending
support, as Brad broke the kiss and his eyes fell upon her.
“Juliet! What are you doing here? You… I thought
you were going downtown tonight.”
Juliet found herself laughing even as tears ran
silently down her face. “Really? That’s all you’ve got to say?” She swiped at
her cheeks, hating herself for crying over this when at the same time she
wished she could beat the crap out of him.
“It’s not what it looks like.”
Carly snorted, “You’re going from bad to worse
with that cliché, asshole.”
“Butt out, Carly.” He turned back to Juliet,
stepping towards her. “You know I love you, Juliet. You’ve just been so busy
with work I never see you anymore.”
“
I’ve
been…
You’re saying this is
my
fault?” She
could feel her breath coming too fast and fought to calm herself. She would not
lose control in front of him, especially not with that slut still lingering by
his side. “Is there a book of standard excuses for cheaters out there that I
haven’t seen yet?” She exhaled, relieved she had managed to keep her voice
steady and strong.
“Come on, don’t be like this.”
“How long, Brad?”
“How long what?”
“How long have you been cheating on me?”
“Look, sweetheart, this doesn’t mean anything.
It’s just sex. What you and I have, that’s special. We make love.”
Her hand struck his face before she became fully
aware of her intent to slap him. “You asshole… you’re using excuses from Eddie
Murphy’s
Raw
? Seriously? How stupid
do you think I am?”
Juliet felt as though a hand had grabbed her
heart and begun to squeeze. In spite of her determination to hold herself
together, her breathing grew more ragged and her knees shook. She hated him in
that moment, and could feel the contempt swelling inside her, searching for
release. Not knowing if that would lead to her crying even harder or simply
exploding at Brad, she turned and raced out of the bar.
Kicking off her favorite heels, she scooped them
up and began running down
Boulevard
Who would have ever pictured her – oh-so-practical Juliet, sprinting down the
street barefoot? Laughter dissolved into sobs as she crossed the boardwalk onto
the sand, running until her legs began to cramp. Falling to her knees, Juliet tried
to breathe, letting the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore
soothe her. Her cell phone kept ringing. She shut it off in irritation. She
knew Carly would be worried, and Brad was probably calling frantically, but at
the moment she couldn’t bring herself to care.
Juliet had no idea how long she sat there, but
eventually the cold stirred her to move. She pulled herself up, absently wiping
some of the sand off her skirt. Brad often accused her of being too fastidious.
Wouldn’t this surprise him? Consumed with her thoughts, she stumbled back up
the beach toward the boardwalk. She’d gone farther away from the bar than she’d
intended, toward the southern “muscle beach” end of the
While the area typically swarmed with tourists
and locals alike during the day, at night darkness consumed this desolate end
of the boardwalk, giving it a quietly sinister air. Strange shadows fell from
the outdoor gym equipment, crisscrossed by the lines in the fence surrounding
it. Steel shutters covered the entrances to most of the stores, many marked by
graffiti. Gentle singing drew her gaze to a homeless man huddled over a garbage
can searching for scraps. He had a pretty good voice, but the soft sound amid
the surrounding emptiness only served to enhance the disturbing sensation that
washed over her.
As her fight with Brad replayed in her mind, Juliet
walked practically alongside a small group of men before she consciously
noticed them. With her footsteps muffled by the soft sand, they hadn’t spotted
her, either.
The gunshot changed all that.
Her head whipped towards the sound. What she had
assumed were a group of men talking coalesced into four Latinos holding guns on
two African-American boys quivering before them. A third lay dead on the sand,
blood pooling under his head in a puddle that appeared almost black. The hole
in his forehead looked like movie makeup. It couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be
real.
One of the remaining boys, who looked young
enough to still be in high school, sobbed openly as he pleaded for his life.
His companion remained stoic, staring down the leader of the Latino group and,
in a final moment of defiance, spitting at him. The leader fired, shooting him
and his friend again and again. The shots echoed across the buildings, but no
one emerged to investigate. A faint trail of smoke drifted up from the barrel
as he at last lowered his gun to his side.
That final movement shook Juliet out of her
frozen stupor and she let out an involuntary scream. Jerking his head around at
the distinct noise, the leader’s gaze fell upon her, his eyes narrowing. Juliet
couldn’t understand what they shouted at her in Spanish, but instinct kicked in
and her legs started moving faster than they ever had before. Gunshots rang out
behind her and she felt a bullet whiz by her ear. Pain exploded through her
right arm and fire blazed across her hip. Still, she kept running, stumbling on
the sand, her lungs burning, knowing she would die if she stopped. At last her
feet touched the cool cement of the boardwalk, allowing her to pick up speed as
she sprinted back toward
Boulevard
The gang continued to gain on her. Her vision
started to blur and her legs felt like rubber, her steps beginning to falter as
she grew weaker. Blood dripped down her arm, soaking through her blouse. At
last, with her pursuers practically on her heels, she turned onto
“Help me,” she begged, collapsing against him.
Nearby someone screamed. A crowd began to gather as darkness enfolded Juliet
and she slipped into unconsciousness.
****
Bright lights blinded her as her eyes fluttered
open. Strange shapes and noises slowly came into focus: the glaring fluorescent
lights overhead, the beeping of hospital equipment, voices talking somewhere
beyond her vision. Juliet suddenly remembered the men chasing her and started
to lurch to her feet.
“Easy, there. Easy. You’re safe.”
Blinking a few times, Juliet became aware of
that pudgy bald man again. “It’s you.”
“Yes, it’s me. Dr. Chris Erosou, at your
service.”
Dimples appeared on each cheek as he smiled, and
Juliet found herself reassured by his kind face. He exuded warmth, which made
her instantly like him. “Where am I?”
“At the hospital. You collapsed against me
outside James Beach Bar, do you remember?”
The terror returned in a fierce wave. “Those …
men. Did someone stop them?”
“I’m afraid they got away, but you’re safe here.
You may feel a bit fuzzy for a little while. It’s a mixture of the anesthesia
wearing off and the morphine.”
“Anesthesia?”
“You were shot, Miss Morris. One bullet passed
straight through your right arm and another grazed your hip. I’m afraid you suffered
a comminuted ulna fracture. We had to insert a metal plate into your arm.”
Juliet glanced down at the splint covering most
of her right arm. “But that’s impossible. I’m an interior designer. I don’t get
shot.”
Doctor Erosou laughed, gently brushing her hair
off her face. He turned his head to peer at two men approaching, nodding to
himself.
“I just have to give you a shot of antibiotics
and then some detectives want to speak to you. Is that OK? Otherwise I can ask
them to come back tomorrow, after you’ve gotten some rest.”
“Um, sure, yeah. It’s OK.”
Juliet continued staring dumbfounded at her arm.
The shot stung, calling her attention to it. For a split second, the needle
looked like a glistening golden arrow. Puzzled, Juliet blinked to clear her gaze,
but when she looked again the doctor had finished and already disposed of the
needle.
“Did you see…?”
“See what, dear?”
She shook her head, realizing how ridiculous her
question would sound. “Never mind.”
“You take care of yourself, Juliet. Who knows –
getting shot might be the best thing that ever happened to you.”
She snorted in disbelief as he slipped away.
****
Eros felt satisfied with his night’s work as he
left Juliet’s room. “One down.” He turned to watch a young police officer in a
freshly pressed uniform pass by, followed closely by the rugged FBI agent. “One
to go.” That spark wouldn’t be too hard to ignite, in his estimation.
He moved out of their way as they entered
Juliet’s room. Having done all he could for tonight, Eros faded back into the
shadows. He felt the presence of Himeros and Pothos before he saw them
approach.
“Interesting choice, brother,” Himeros said,
nodding towards the FBI agent. “Sticking a woman afraid of passion with a man
ruled by it?”
Pothos sighed, resting an arm on Eros’ shoulder.
“I bet Himeros he’s wrong about that guy. Mr. FBI Man wants to fall in love,
but he focuses on lust to keep from getting hurt.”
“How the hell do you figure that? He goes for sex
before love every time. He’ll do it again here.” Himeros countered smugly.
Eros shook his head at both of them. “Stop
interfering. I know what I’m doing with these two, and I don’t want either of
you to mess it up.”
“Care to join our wager?” Himeros’s eyes lit up
in delight.
“Fine. But I already pierced Juliet with an
arrow. I need to hit him too, to be fair. After that, none of us can interfere,
and we’ll see who’s right.”
The brothers all nodded in agreement, continuing
to speculate on who would win as they left the hospital. In a moment of
distraction, Eros’s eyes darted over to the clock on the wall. Just after 4:00 a.m.
Maybe he could find an after-hours place…