Page 7 of Targeted By Desire

Finally opening my eyes, I saw my quaint two-story house sitting in front of us. The familiar sight lifted my spirits. After the night I had, I was in desperate need for a shower and a large glass of wine. A bottle actually didn’t sound half bad.

“Thanks, Uncle Logan,” I said as I opened the passenger door. My brow rose as he cut off the engine and pushed his own door open.

“You don’t have to stay,” I assured him. “I feel fine.”

“You sustained a head injury tonight. I’m not going anywhere until I know there wasn’t any real damage. Your father would rise from his grave and kill me if anything happened to you.”

I almost smiled. One promise Logan held true to his heart was the one he made to take care of me if anything ever happened to my father.

The two of them used to be inseparable - had been since they met in college. And even though they weren't connected by blood, they weren’t anything less than brothers.

For as long as I could remember, Logan always treated me as if I was his own. His love and respect for my father extended to me, providing me with an uncle who showed up to birthday parties with handfuls of gift bags and slipped me big bills at award ceremonies. When my father passed, Logan stepped up in all the areas he no longer could, offering me a resemblance of the figure I’d lost.

“I’m okay, Uncle Logan. Really. I just need some time…alone.”

His lips pressed together in a small frown as he nodded. “Alright,” he finally gave in. “But, you need to call me in the morning to check-in.”

“I will,” I promised as I climbed out of the car. “Thanks again for the ride.” Eager to get in the house, I turned on my heel and started walking towards the cobblestone path.

“Simone,” Logan called.

Reluctantly, I stopped and looked over my shoulder.

Logan’s passenger side window was rolled down. Through it, I saw him leaning over the center dash. “Promise me you’ll take the next few days to actually relax.”

“No promises,” I replied. “But I will try.”

The ends of lips twitched, threatening to turn up into a smile. “You’re just like your father. You don’t know how to leave well enough alone.” He paused for a moment, silently reminiscing over his old friend. As he thought, the light playfulness hovering over his lips fell and his serious tone returned. “Just be careful. You never know what monsters you’ll find when you go snooping around in the dark.”

Nodding, I pretended to heed his warning. He knew better than me that finding monsters was part of the job description. After capturing so many, the thought of them didn’t scare me anymore.

I gave him one last wave and continued my stride towards my home. The house, cloaked in darkness, was almost completely silent when I walked inside. Only the robotic voice of my alarm system chimed from my entrance.

I flicked on the hallway light and re-armed the security system before heading upstairs. Now comfortable in my own space, my muscles roared from the tussle. It was nothing a hot shower couldn’t fix.

After a quick trip to my room to grab some pajamas, I headed into the bathroom. I stood under the shower head for a while, letting the hot water roll over my aching muscles. The sticky sensation of dried blood lingered on my skin. I scrubbed and scrubbed, desperate to try to wash it off. As much as I wanted to believe Lorenzo’s death wasn’t my fault, I couldn't get rid of the guilt that I should’ve done more to keep him safe.

When the power went out, I should’ve run straight to him. I knew he was paranoid. I knew he was afraid. It was wrong to assume he’d come to me without hesitation. If I’d been in the room a few moments earlier, maybe I would’ve caught our intruder. Seen him climbing out of the shadows and apprehended him before he could draw his weapon. He would be in cuffs and Lorenzo would still be breathing.

The time in the shower would be the last I’d dwell on it. Something I learned early on was that I couldn’t take my losses home with me. Not unless I wanted to be eaten alive by guilt. So, I gave myself time to mourn, to acknowledge my mistakes, and make a plan for how to fix them. In almost every case, my solution was to put the culprit behind bars. And this time would be no different. I was going to make sure justice for Lorenzo’s death was served - no matter what it took.

I spent most of the night tossing and turning. My brain refused to turn off, relentless in its pursuit to start a roadmap to lead me towards the darkest corners where my culprit likely hid. It wouldn’t rest until I had a tiny beeline of where to start.

By then, the sun was beaming through the windows. Warm rays caressed my face and projected orange circles through my closed lids. The heat embraced me like a mother holding her newborn and rocked me into a deep slumber.

Hours passed by like minutes in the peaceful oasis of unconsciousness. In it, my body was blissfully heavy, sinking into cushions as if they were clouds. For a little while, the world was quiet, and there weren’t any dark clouds looming over my head, preparing to storm.

I relished in the feeling for as long as I could. When I woke up, I knew thunderstorms would be rolling down.

The abyss kept me for longer than I expected, keeping me snug in its grasp through most of the day.

Only the loud blare of my cell phone pulled me from it - and by then, the sun had fallen again.

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and peered at my ringing phone. I was expecting my godfather’s name across the screen, likely concerned that I never called this morning. But, instead it was my partner’s.

“Hey, Gabriel,” I greeted almost incomprehensibly as I answered the phone.

“Hey. Are you decent?” He replied. “I’m out front.”