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Chapter Thirty-two

Saturday October 4, 2014

1:53pm

Hurry up, time!

Anessa paced her dorm room, hoping to exercise the unease she had been fighting in lectures and study sessions throughout the week. She knew it was silly to be nervous, but telling herself that wasn't going to make a difference. Even if it wasn't someone unfamiliar or intimidating, it was still their first date. Her first date. Kelly--her wonderful roommate--and her other friends at Justin University had all chimed in with excitement and reassurance of their own, but she was still running down a checklist of first-date anxieties. She twiddled the lavender lace neck of a swing top and looked down at her light capris and sandals--wondered if it was too plain. She had run the attire past Kelly the previous night. The shepherd sighed and observed ominous clouds rolling over campus.

When the double knock, double knock sounded from the door, Anessa had to restrain herself from bursting into the hallway, and before she opened the door, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Wish me good luck, Mom, Bell.

His black, oval pupils were traced by mint-green and set within wide, yellow orbs. He was more fur than meat, a uniform shade of coal throughout his five-ten stature. A smile tweaked wispy whiskers to either side of a small black nose. "Hey," Vincent grumbled.

"Hi," said Anessa, grinning nervously. She spotted a folded black umbrella in her date's grip. "It's not going to rain, is it?"

"No, and if does I might attack the weatherman," replied the cat, his voice buoyant and sinister. "But either way," he continued, gesturing the umbrella in his paw, "I'm not going to let it ruin our day."

There would be no rain, and Anessa thought it disappointing that there was no excuse to share the umbrella.

"So?" Vincent inquired at dinner.

Anessa grinned over her menu. "What?"

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

Exploring the art galleries of downtown Chavaniac, Indiana, holding paws down Main Street--Anessa quickly nodded.

"Splendid," said the cat.

"Are you?"

"Entirely miserable. Worst day of my life. I don't suppose you'd be interested in doing this again?"

* * *

7:02pm

"That was easy," grunted Tyson. Amusement absent from his voice. More than ever. A pair of automatic doors slid out of his way, granting the evening's stern breeze. A heavy shopping bag swung with every step he took.

He unpacked the purchase on his coffee table back home.

Engraved in stylized letters over the black polymer case: GLOCK. Two latches to either side of the open handle exposed the pistol and three magazines. Tyson stared at the Glock resting on the dark foam inside the case. Looking at it made him feel sick, but he forced himself to touch it, grazed the slide from its smooth snout to the ribs set below the rear sights. Lifting it, he found that his fingers filled the grooves of the textured grip perfectly, and that the weapon sat in his paw with a very satisfying weight. He quickly laid it back in the case. He knew nothing about firearms. Had never fired one in his life. But he understood it would do the job--if necessary.

As Tyson slept that night, his taut muzzle flipped from side to side. His paws clenched. The black case resided in a drawer of his office desk.

* * *

Sunday September 6, 2009

2:14pm

The slam of the door resonated through the apartment, into the bedroom where Tyson knelt naked upon a queen-sized mattress. The smell of cigarettes was in the air.

"Thank god that's over."

Tyson stared at her--his mother. She puffed a breath of smoke from her dark muzzle and smiled down at him.

"What, not in the mood anymore?"

Tyson promptly dressed himself.

"Don't be such a coward," sighed his mother. "What do you think your sister's going to do? She's not a fucking rat. I know her. She won't say a fucking thing."

Doubts whispered through a crack in Tyson's disconnect.

He stared at an unoccupied hook on the key station beside the apartment's door. "My keys are gone."

"You didn't set them somewhere else?" his mother asked. Her clothes were still strewn about the bedroom. "Your sister must have used them." Another suck of smoke and a grin. "Should I call her for you?"

Tyson said nothing.

His mother sighed. "Do you have a spare set?"

It was dark by the time they had completed the trip to and from Elliotsville. The Lexus rolled beneath the lamps of the parking lot and came to rest behind the parked Porsche. Tyson, eyes and paws in his lap, felt his mother's stare.

"What are we going to do now?"

Tyson said he didn't know. He knew nothing anymore. Everything was leaking from the gap Bella's words had left in his armor. He stepped from the vehicle. He only wanted to get the last drive of the night done.

The window behind him wheezed, giving way to his mother's voice pressing on. "Are we through?"

"I'm not sure."

His mother grew annoyed.

"Tyson, I need to know where you stand, because if shit hits the fan, I'm gone. I'm not getting caught up in this shit."

Thinking about it made Tyson's head hurt. "Let me think about it," he grunted.

"There's a way to make sure your sister doesn't rat."

The sentiment rang clear in the night, and Tyson climbed into his car without another word.

* * *

Sunday October 5, 2014

8:26pm

Anessa smiled at the textbook, notebook and phone sprawled on the bed before her. The smile hadn't left her muzzle since she had left Vincent's arms at the end of their date, and her grin widened every time her phone rang and buzzed. At a desk a few feet away, her roommate studied quietly. Quiet until Anessa's phone began buzzing away again.

"Uh-oh," said Kelly, and her pale-furred, mostly-hare face peeped over a gray shoulder. "Booty call."

"As if!" laughed Anessa. "It's not even him."

Her smile contracted as she put the phone to her ear and greeted her brother.

"You probably don't want to," Tyson said after a monotone response, "but can you come over again?"

Anessa frowned. "It's not that I don't want to," she said carefully, "but can't you come to Sandy and spend some time at the house? Dad really wants to see you too, and we can still--"

"No."

"But why?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"I won't unless you tell me."

An ugly growl: "Well, if you want to see me again, you know where to find me. But don't wait too long, if you really care."

The threat wasn't lost on her. Anessa sprung vertical--a few inches taller and she would have sent her head through the dormitory ceiling. "Don't say that!" she shouted, standing on the mattress and letting out excited breaths. "Don't ever say that!"

The phone fell silent before her brother inquired, "Do you love me, Anessa?"

"Of course I do!" she shouted into the phone, heart pounding. She was back in an awful morning and a feeling that she never wanted to experience again. "Stop talking like this! You're scaring me!"

She was crying to him again.

She jerked her head around when a paw pressed gently against her back, and looking down she discerned Kelly's concerned face through her tears. She cried, lowering herself to sit beside her roommate and friend, and after a few sobs and sniffles she spoke to the silence.

"Get help, Ty. Please get help if things are getting bad!"

But the call was already dead in her ear.

Anessa flopped onto her study materials and took a while to remind herself of how wonderful the start of the weekend had been.

* * *

Monday October 6, 2014

12:15pm

"I'm going to call the police and tell them to check on you if you don't reply."

The latest of a dozen messages in as many hours.

Tyson glared at his phone and thumbed a single world into his reply.

"Don't"

He sat back in his break-room chair and swore to himself.

Why was she being so difficult? She had never been difficult. That had been part of her charm. She had never pushed, never pried. Had just talked to him when she was happy--had just wanted to be around him when she was sad. To her, he had been family. To him, she was his only female contact since dropping out of NISU--the logical rebound. But now she was being difficult, and he was losing patience. He wasn't sure he could make it much longer, what with the sense of terror fiercely clutching his throat. Making it hard to breath. Making it hard to sleep. Making it hard to get out of bed every day. It would have to happen soon. The next time he had her in his grasp.

After work, Tyson went home and fed some .40 caliber cartridges into the Glock and shut it back in the desk drawer.

* * *

7:22pm

Anessa sighed at her phone, and the side of her head came to rest against a fuzzy shoulder. She could feel bone not far below the charcoal fur.

"He still hasn't messaged back?"

"No," sighed Anessa, and she looked at Vincent, seeing his concern.

"I'm sorry."

They shared the center of a wide and hideous sofa which faced the cat's television--an old monster CRT unit with built-in stereo. Its arrival to the economically-sized second-story apartment with its narrow halls and doorways must have been miraculous. Every item in the room had been pieced from hand-me-downs, garage sales and thriftshop excursions--the set of empty wrought-iron chairs, the cuckoo on the wall beside a rather grim and unworldly rendering of a bowl of fruit. Full of character was how Anessa chose to view it. Really, she didn't care how the cat and his fellow third-years decorated their space. Maybe in the future she would have to address those tastes, but for the time being, anywhere with him was fine.

Anessa shoved her phone into a pocket of her shorts and firmly set her focus on the movie that they had gathered to watch. One of her paws was grabbed, given a comforting squeeze, and she smiled up at the cat.

More than once, their eyes had met.

An autumn chill had mixed its way into the evening air whilst the cat and shepherd walked. It was a short walk--Vincent's apartment was only a block removed from campus--but Anessa appreciated the cat's time and his vigilance. More so, she had hope that at the end of the walk they would part with their first kiss. Her first kiss. Thinking about it made her smile. Made her forget about her family affairs. Just outside of the entrance to the dormitory, Anessa turned to face Vincent. "Thanks for walking me," she said. Her mouth dried.

"Anytime," smiled the cat. He gave a dramatic bow to kiss Anessa's paw. His eyes flicked up, and Anessa's heart found its racing rhythm once more. They looked into each other's eyes.

"I'll call you tomorrow." The cat straightened.

"Okay," agreed Anessa--waiting.

Her reward was a long, affectionate hug, a soft "Goodnight," and a wave which faded into the night.

Anessa waved back with a feeble smile. The moment would have been perfect. On the way to her room, she decided that their first kiss would happen on their next date. One way or another.