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“My friend’s wedding. Some friend I am.” He laid what she assumed to be a suit at the foot of the bed and returned to the closet, kneeling and rummaging around before snatching up a pair of dress shoes. “I’d let you tag along as my uninvited plus one, but a) I’m sure you have nothing to wear on such short notice and, most importantly, b) Nathan isn’t too thrilled about the idea of you and I.”
“Nathan being Professor Scott?” He nodded. “Gee, I wonder why. You’re responsible for 90% of my grade and we just slept together. This doesn’t look good for you.”
Dr. Merino narrowed his eyes at her and, for once, they were backlit by something akin to playfulness rather than hostility.
“He’s my lone social outlet in this town so I need to stay in his good graces. I’m afraid bringing a former student of his as a date to his wedding is out of the question.”
He rifled through a dresser drawer and she noticed a new addition resting atop its surface, something that wasn’t present during her inventory of the room when she’d fallen ill.
A vintage Polaroid camera.
Tension laced her forearms as she recalled Alex’s mention of blackmail pictures and Kenna thought how very clever it’d be to use an outdated, instant-print camera. No cyber footprint.
She forged a sense of calm. Alex had never seen the alleged photos. Dr. Merino had merely made threats.
Tracing her line of sight to the camera, he swiped it off the dresser and his gaze swept over her body. “Could I take a picture of you?”
“I–I don’t have any clothes on.”
“Underwear constitutes clothing, does it not?”
Kenna wet her lips and stared at him for a moment before quietly conceding, “Alright.”
“Turn your head to the side.” She obeyed and was met with her reflection in the full-length mirror, revealing the state of her hair, trampled by sleep. She was in dire need of a shower and a toothbrush and in spite of it Dr. Merino treated her like a supermodel. “Tilt your chin down, just a little. Beautiful.”
In the mirror, her eyes locked on that box beneath the bed and something tore at her from the inside out.
Glass, cold and sharp, cutting through her.
She’d almost forgotten. As Kenna regarded it with silent terror, she remembered lying on the rug in a daze and being put off by its presence amid all of that bare flooring. Alone and unsettling.
A blinding flash shot forth from the camera followed by an obnoxious clicking sound and Dr. Merino plucked the picture sliding out of its mouth, fanning it lightly through the air and placing it on the dresser.
He dropped down beside her, fingers inching up her leg as she was met with the soft touch of his lips and her stomach twisted at how effortlessly he slipped into this level of comfort around her. Kenna didn’t temporarily lose her sanity over the kiss. She felt numb, frostbitten.
There was no heat left within her, only an iciness shooting through her veins and insisting that with each passing moment she stayed in the house, she was putting herself at greater risk. At risk of what, exactly, she didn’t know.
But the feeling was powerful. The need to run without needing to understand what one was running from.
Dr. Merino squeezed her thigh, jarring her focus.
“Why don’t you stay for the weekend?”
“You know I have to study for finals.”
He kissed along the hollow of her cheek, as she had done with his scar. “Next weekend classes are out and I’m afraid that leaves you with no excuses. We’ll go somewhere, wherever you want, just the two of us.”
He’d had a sliver of her and now he seemed to want everything, all at once, and she hated the part of herself that wanted to give it to him, every last strand of hair and bone.
“I’d like that.”
“Good because it’s non-negotiable. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to shower and get going before I piss off an entire wedding party.”
He kissed her forehead and retreated to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Kenna’s pulse accelerated, wild, out of control, as she restricted her breathing and sat perfectly still. An animal who sensed a target on its back.
Listening. Waiting.
The second the shower cut on, she sunk to the hardwood. Heart in her throat, she reached for the box, sliding it along the dust-coated floor. It sat before her with its tattered lid and faded retail stickers which claimed it once held tennis shoes. Whatever resided in the box was probably highly inconsequential. Otherwise, Dr. Merino wouldn’t have left it out in the open, begging to be discovered.
