Between You And Me

13~A Walking Target

I’ve never witnessed someone after being publicly taken to a police station surrounded by their entire crew, return so nonchalantly as Director Cross had, taking his place in the directors’ chair. The air thickened with unanswered questions, the tail ends of conversations and speculations still lingering as he sat silently. And we watched him; watched him with bated breath and widened eyes that conveyed our curiosity about the matter.

The only brave soul to approach Director Cross was his assistant, Neil. “Uh, Director, are…are you alright?”

Director Cross had a hand over half of his face before brushing his hair back with a sigh, finally looking up to acknowledge Neil. Everything beyond him could wait. “Yes, I’m alright. We’ll pick up where we left off.”

For the first time since he entered, he looked around the room at all the eyes that now dwelled upon him like drills to screws, digging into his skin. If he felt uncomfortable about it, he didn’t let it show, his eyes looking for someone in particular until they finally fell on me by the staircase. Then all the wandering eyes that had been piercing into him seconds ago now pierced into me with skepticism of my connection to all of this. To his arrest. I even started to question myself, my throat swelling with apprehension. Did I do something wrong?

“Daphne, may I speak with you for a moment?” he asked calmly, stepping out of his chair.

Like a child on the verge of punishment, I kept my head low as I followed his footsteps, heading to the staircase and up the stairs to Lilah’s bedroom where we left off filming. Despite the crew being downstairs, that dreaded feeling of being watched coursed through me like a rush of water in my stomach threatening to expel from my mouth.

What had I done? I asked myself, searching through memories of the last few days for answers. A dreadful thing entered my mind. No, what if this was something from years ago that I can’t remember?

Before my mind could spiral into the uncertainty, Director Cross gestured for me to enter that bedroom that once held my friend, and gently kept the door ajar a smidge but not too much. “Daphne,” he started in a calm, reassuring tone, which only made my insides panic. “I need you to take a moment and breathe.”

It wasn’t until he said breathe that I realized the aching in my throat and the fluttering of my heart were a result of holding my breath, waiting for the dreadful thing to happen. In the reflection of the bedroom window, I noticed the rosiness of my cheeks and the dramatic inhale and exhale of air that couldn’t quite satisfy my lungs.

Without a second thought, he took my hands in his and looked me straight in the eyes as he demonstrated how to breathe, as though it weren’t the natural course of living. Taking a deep breath, forcing my lungs to expand, I followed his inhales and exhales, keeping my focus on the emerald greenness of his eyes. The familiar greenness felt like the safety of a warm blanket after being caught in the freezing snow. That undeniable spell he’d cast without warning enveloped me again, taking in the smooth yet callous sensation of his hands and the captivity of his eyes on mine.

Why did he feel so much like the comforts of home? This was beyond just the influence of a director calming a subordinate; this was an influence he had on only me and I on him.

“Better?” he asked.

Air flowed through me as naturally as water coursing along a riverbed. “Better.”

“Good because I need you to stay calm for what I have to say.” Without removing his hands from mine, he took a step back towards the couch for us to sit on while he spoke collectedly. “They’ll be announcing it soon but…there’s been sightings of a copycat killer who is following Ezra’s agenda, going through the list of deadly sins.”

Tilting my head in puzzlement, I opened my mouth to ask why this would concern only me and not everyone else downstairs as well. This would be news for everyone to hear, especially if whoever was targeting the production only started recently when we arrived. Why…?

Like a bolt of lightning, catching his eyes for the obvious, I realized why he told me personally. This copycat killer was following Ezra’s deadly sins agenda and I’d been on that former list. I was someone that not even Ezra could kill in the end and complete his list, making me a treasure to whoever followed in his footsteps. I’m an unchecked box on his list, a walking target who'd been connected to the previous killer.

I was the prize.

Noticing that I had connected the dots, he nodded a confirmation. Nausea rolled through me at the thought of the past that I could hardly remember returning with such abrupt force within my life. “I’m going to call for extra security and I’ll talk to your father about having a bodyguard here for you at all times—”

“Sightings?” I interrupted, my mind still wrapping itself around the idea of being a target once again. I’ve never had crazed stalkers but have heard about them from other celebrities, and their ordeals with them made them feel less safe, and more vulnerable, especially under the spotlight. “You mean multiple?”

“Yes.” He rubbed my hands soothingly, trying to calm the nerves that now expanded further through my body at the news. Yet, I could still hear him telling me to breathe, to stay calm, and I fell into those words like a haven. “I won’t get into detail. They have found three victims already and we believe, if they are following Ezra’s course of plan, they’ll leave you for last.”

That meant three people would die before me. Three. It doesn’t seem that large a number and it wasn’t within those contexts. I savored the number in my head like a fine wine lingering on my tongue, tasting the comfort and cruelty of the flavor. Three…one…two…three. Three people have already fallen victim to the killings and there would be three more before me if they weren’t caught soon.

“Do the police have any leads?” I asked, drawing closer to him for comfort, for as close a haven as possible.

He nodded, his eyes cast downwards. “The fan group, L-L-E-G, Long Live Ezra Graham. But they don’t know who’s the primary leader or if they meet up anywhere.”

So hardly a lead at all, I wanted to say, but I kept the words at bay. There was so much already out of our hands, out of my hands, that couldn’t be solved with petty words. But what could I say at this point? Please tell me what to do. Do I go into hiding? What about the film? What about you? Unanswerable questions swam through my mind with very little to hold onto. Except for Director Cross, my hand tightening on his, my fingers slowly trying to interlock with his fingers. To stay in this moment of safety for a little while longer. This is all I wanted right now and I couldn’t even put into words how he makes me feel whenever he’s around despite hardly knowing one another.

Or did we?

Scraping against the vault of my memories, I tried to think hard if I’d seen him before, if I’d known him in Hawthorne before but just didn’t recognize him. Think, think, think…

“I know you’re scared, Daphne,” he continued, breaking through my train of thought. “Are you having doubts about this film? If it would put you in danger?”

“A little,” I sighed, then quickly added, “But I want to keep filming. I want to complete this film with you.”

When I said “with you,” his eyes flickered with a light of relief and happiness I’d rarely seen from him since getting to know him. His grip tightened on mine, our fingers now woven through one another, unwilling to let the other go. Finally, I took in his features, beautiful green eyes that felt like magic when I stared into them, his straight nose, the stubbles of a beard attempting to grow along his cheeks, and the softness of his lips. Everything about him felt familiar and welcoming and desirable and warm and I wanted to stay like this, with him…

“I want to complete this film too. With you…” he stated, leaning closer, undertones of cedar and sage and mint and vanilla mingling exquisitely off of him. “We’ll get through this together…”

‘Together, I think we can not only tarnish them but get rid of them once and for all.’

I flinched at the haunting voice in my head. The words popped into my head like an afterthought but the words, but I couldn’t grasp the context of where I heard them before, but they vanished as quickly as they appeared. It only left me wondering, always wondering, and never solving these fragmented memories that would only take a step out before retreating.

“Sorry,” he apologized, leaning back, taking his pleasant scent and comforting essence with him. It took me a moment for me to realize what he was apologizing for, his fingers slowly sliding out of my grasp.

No.

I reacted to the voice in my head, the haunting past, not the delightful present, not to him. But before I could explain, a light knock brought us back to reality.

Knock, knock.

We both withdrew an inch as the bedroom door opened and Neil peeked his head through, pushing up his glasses as he kept his eyes directed to the ground. If we were doing something else, something inappropriate to our professions, he wouldn't see or be a liability.

“Sorry, sir,” he apologized nervously. “Are we going to continue filming today or should I let the crew pack up for the day?”

At the sound of a day unfinished, Director Cross immediately stood up, adjusting his shirt that already looked tidy and unscathed. “No, we’ll do three more scenes and then I have an announcement to make before everyone leaves.” He motioned around my legs to head towards the door Neil instinctively widened for his departure. Director Cross looked back at me with a deep exhale, as though he were breathing me in at a distance before speaking. “Would you be alright if we finished where we left off?”

Where we left off…

Oh!

My thoughts were still on our intimate session until it caught his actual meaning. The movie. Pick up on the scene where we left off with Asher and Lilah in the bedroom. Embarrassment brought a tantalizing heat to my cheeks as I stood with a nod, trying to compose myself. I had to get into a different frame of mind if we were going to continue filming but my hands still clung to the warmth he’d left on my palms, wanting to grasp him again.

“Can I go to the restroom before we get started?” I asked, knowing I needed a few minutes to contemplate all that had just happened. And I had to step into my job as an actress, pretending that everything was alright when they weren’t. When our conversation about the copycat killer and my name on a deadly list lingered in the back of my mind with comforting words from him keeping them sealed, for now.

“Of course.”

With that, he left me without looking back, heading down the hall to the staircase. Back to the crew, who still waited with bated breath for their director's return. He wasn't just mine to have and to hold, something I needed to get used to from this moment forward.