The Den by Jennifer Abrahams Read Free Book Online

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    When Skyla got back to the apartment, all the lights were off.  Problem—she needed to pack still.   Skyla turned on the hall light, got down on her belly, and dragged the suitcase out from under her bed. Brooke flipped over to face the window.  She was awake.  Skyla could tell by her breathing.  Brooke wouldn’t sleep tonight.  Neither would Skyla.  Skyla walked back through the hallway and through the living room to the tiny kitchen area.   She put up a pot of coffee.  She listened to the soothing sound of the percolator.  Her mind drifted back to the café. 
    Had the dark-haired man been there again?  Why had I felt the shiver?   
    It was definitely the right time to leave town.  Even if this man were a figment of her imagination, a change of scenery was necessary.  Skyla’s sanity required it. 
    The light went on at the bottom of the electric coffee pot.  Skyla took Brooke’s favorite yellow, flowered mug out of the cabinet and poured a piping-hot cup.  Then she poured one for herself in the “I heart NYC” mug.  Skyla walked into the bedroom, flipped the light switch up with her elbow, and held out the mug for Brooke. 
    Brooke rolled over and pushed herself up.  She reached out with both hands.  Thanks,” she said.
    Skyla packed everything.  Luckily, it all fit into the big duffel bag that she had bought when she imagined herself becoming a snowboarder.  It was large and had wheels.  Perfect for such a trip.  It would easily fit in the back of the Jeep Cherokee they were renting.  Skyla rolled it into the living room and grabbed her pocketbook as she passed the little table.  She dropped both of them by the door.  She sat on top of the duffel for a moment, wiping the sweat off her forehead.  It was a warm night, even for August.  The summer was relentless this year.  The one little air conditioner did not move the air much, and the room was thick and sticky.  It suddenly felt as if there weren’t enough oxygen in the apartment.  Skyla walked back through the bedroom and flung the window open all the way to the top.  She crawled onto the fire escape, sat, and waited. Brooke climbed out after her.  She waited, too.  They sat together, chins on knees and arms wrapped tightly around legs.  They could feel the slightly cooler metal bars underneath them, and it helped to calm their nerves.
    The sun came up.  Skyla went back through the window and into the kitchen to make another pot of coffee.  She showered and dressed.  Brooke crawled into bed to catch a few hours’ sleep before work. 
    When Alex rang the buzzer from downstairs, Skyla bent down and kissed Brooke on the cheek.  Brooke threw her arms around Skyla’s neck and hugged her hard.  Skyla turned and walked away.  She picked up her pocketbook, and then with the same hand, she grabbed the handle of the snowboarding bag.  She opened the door with the other hand and rolled it right out.  She turned to lock Brooke in and then dragged the bag down the three flights and out onto the sidewalk.  Alex was leaning on a rented black Jeep Cherokee.  He pushed off and grabbed her bag.  He chucked it into the back.  He came back and opened the passenger door for Skyla.  She looked up at him, threw her pocketbook onto the floor, and jumped in.  He jogged around to the driver’s side, hopped into the Jeep, slammed the door, clicked his seat belt, and said, “We are off!”
    Skyla smiled.  She gave one look back at the third-story apartment window and then looked straight ahead.  “Goodbye,” she whispered to no one.

-Seven-
    The 13 th Floor
     
     
    It was a smooth start.  They crossed town on Houston Street.  The city was starting to wake up.  A few people were out jogging.  A few were holding cups of coffee and shuffling their way to work.  A man held a leash that was attached to five dogs.  He was trying to cross at Broadway.  Not an easy feat.  Alex and Skyla drove straight out to the West Side