Breaking Away (The Man in the Shadows) by Erin M. Truesdale Read Free Book Online Page B

spirit? What if, when the Corner Stone was at the mature age, it didn’t want to come back to its real home? What if it had escaped on purpose? Then... James would be trapped in an alien world, alone, lost, like smoke twisting and turning upwards towards the sky, hopeful it will reach its home, until it dissipates into nothing, never to be seen again, and never reaching its goal.
    Once again, as if pushed out by some unseen force, words spilled from his lips. “I understand the risks. I will do it.”
    ***
    A light snow danced in the predawn sky, like salt cast across a black tapestry. It swayed back and forth gently in the low breeze, making the world, just waking up from that solid winter sleep, seem like it was moving in slow motion. Steam radiated from chimneys and windows of the houses pecked across neatly kept boulevards, as the chill of the night lingered. Dusting the stiff, frozen grass, the snow made the world appear as if it were topped with a thin layer of sweet vanilla frosting.
    Ethan hadn’t slept a wink. He was unable to get ahold of Maika. She didn’t answer her phone, she hadn’t updated her online social profile status; her closest girl friend, Zareh, hadn’t heard from her either. In the deepest part of the night, when he had gotten Zareh to finally pick up her phone after repeatedly calling 24 times in a row, they warily decided not to panic or call the police until morning. Convincing Ethan to try to rest, she hung up the phone, thinking it was just a fluke, a tactic that Maika sometimes pulled when she wanted to be alone, and thus Zareh advised him to make a trip over to Maika’s apartment in the morning.
    Sitting on his bed, waiting, worried, scenarios filled with death and guilt danced through his head like stale gumdrops. His eyes darted over to his clock radio, it read 5:12am. That was close enough to morning for him, so he jumped to his feet, reached under his bed blindly for his boots, forced them on over his drooping socks, and put on his beaten jean jacket that had been hanging on his bedpost. He stood in the middle of his room, his hair a mess, dark circles under his eyes, and wondered if it was now too late. What if he got to her house, just to come face to face with her corpse? His imagination, fueled by over stimulated neurons and his obsession over Maika’s safety, envisioned her lying in the middle of her studio apartment, dried blood smeared on her face, her clothes, her bedspread; stale blood peeling off of her eyelashes and lips as she stared, eyes open and a piercing green even in death, mouth agape in a scream that never escaped her cut throat.
    Groaning, his stomach turning, he forced one foot, and then the other, to move and lead him down the stairs and over to his car parked in the driveway below. He felt dizzy and repentant; he’d never be able to live with himself if something horrible had happened to her. What if...?
    “No more what ifs...” he growled at himself. “Go... Just go.”
    Climbing into his car, he thrust the key into the ignition, and the engine hesitated to turn over. “Come on!” he begged as he turned the key as hard as he could, as if the harder he turned it, the more the engine would try. Breath rushed from his mouth and nostrils in sheets of fog and floated away gently, as he hit the steering wheel with all of his might, his hands stinging in the cold air. It was 29 degrees out currently, so that may have had something to do with the car’s hesitation. “Don’t do this to me right now! You could have picked any time to be a bitch, and you had to pick NOW??” On the last word of the soliloquy that he screamed at the top of his voice, he pushed on the gas pedal until it hit the floor with his right foot, and the car roared to life. Stunned, his chest puffed up slightly in pride and he said kindly, “Thank you.”
    Maika only lived about five miles from him, right off of 35W in South Minneapolis. Ethan lived in a nearby stuffy, snooty part of