Shutter: The Complete Series (18 page)

Mozart is lilting through the whole-house sound system when I enter Brock’s house, making me smile. My brother is the only single man I know that would willingly listen to Mozart while cooking me breakfast. My smile is interrupted by the sound of angry voices.

“She will not. You act like you don’t know her at all.” A man’s voice says, but I have trouble recognizing whom it belongs to as Mozart hits an upbeat stanza at that exact moment.

I take a few more steps and lean my ear toward the kitchen, hoping for more.

“That doesn’t matter. I’ll do it on my own time, I don’t need you trying to decide everything,” Brock says in a calm, yet stern, voice.

“Fuck you Brock, and the straight horse you rode in on.”

My mind finally recognizes the voice just as a body rounds the corner and smacks into me. I look up into frantic eyes belonging to Paul. He pulls back, holding me at arm’s length. I can see the wheels turning in his head, fighting to come up with an explanation.

“Ummmm…” he says, hoping to draw out his time.

I shake my head, “Nope, I don’t even care right now,” I tell him, ducking out of his grasp and skirting around him

“Brook,” he calls after me. “We were—”

I hold up my hand to cut him off, “Don’t want to know. I have my own secrets right now; we’ll discuss them all when it’s time. Okay?”

He face is grim, but he obliges with an agreeable, “Okay.”

I pause at the entry to the kitchen, waiting for enough time to pass between Paul’s exit and my entrance. I’m not ready to deal with whatever is going on between them. I trust them both and know if it was anything they needed my help on they would ask; otherwise, I don’t have the emotional capacity to focus on what’s not my business…not yet anyway. Eventually I will become curious enough to want details, but for now – while I’m hiding out at Stephen’s – I’ll let them keep their own secrets while I keep mine.

Finally, I enter the room and see Brock leaning over the cabinet near the stove. His head is buried in his hands and his entire form looks defeated. I can’t remember a time I’ve ever seen my brother like this, and it stops me in my tracks. Several seconds pass while I’m frozen and he continues sullenly staring at the counter. The buzzer on the oven dings and temporarily pulls him from his misery. He turns toward the oven, his back to me, and removes a casserole dish, his eyes never connecting with me.

“Hey,” I call to him, not acknowledging his sullen mood, and further cementing we won’t have to discuss what happened between him and Paul as I arrived. He’s free to keep his secrets, and I’m free to keep my own.

His gaze lifts to me and a fake, automatic smile touches his lips.

“Hey, I didn’t hear you come in,” he says as he sets the dish on a trivet and takes two plates from the cabinet.

“That’s okay,” I tell him with a smile as I take a plate from him and hungrily look over what he has prepared.

Time passes slowly as I eat the egg and cheese frittata while Brock pushes it around his plate. His eyebrows are furrowed and every few minutes he mumbles something to himself. Every inch of my body wants me to ignore his obviously sad state, but I’m not sure I can continue.

I finally break the silence, “I’m trying really hard to mind my own business, but you are making it very difficult. Your mind is obviously somewhere else right now.”

His head snaps up and his eyes move over me like he’s forgotten I was even here.

He groans and scrubs his hands over his face. “I’m sorry, my mind is somewhere else.”

“I can tell,” I say humorously, not dare mentioning I’d seen Paul here, especially now.

“I wanted us to spend some time together, I didn’t mean to ruin it.” Sadness falls over his face again but nothing close to what had previously been there. Whatever is bothering him is much bigger than I’d originally thought.

“You know I love you, right? No matter what mistakes either of us make, that won’t change.” I don’t know why I feel the need to tell him this, I just know with everything happening in our lives, it needs to be said, just in case either of us has forgotten it.

“I know, and I feel the same way,” he says as he scoops our plates up and carries them to the sink. “Let’s go outside, I have something I need to tell you.”

I follow him through the large French doors onto the covered porch. He motions for me to sit next to him and takes my hands in his.

“Brook, I…I’ve been wanting to talk to you…I wasn’t sure how, or when to…” he stammers as his eyes search the scenery behind me, frantically hoping to avoid my gaze.

“Well, whatever it is, just say it already.” I laugh at his nervousness and pat his hand before pulling mine away and leaning back in my chair, my face aimed toward the sky to soak up the sunshine I haven’t seen much in the past month.

He remains quiet for so long I finally peek at him to find his eyes trained on me.

“I have a meeting with Niko today,” he blurts out as soon as he notices my attention on him. His face is a mix of shock and relief, but I get the distinct feeling the news about Niko isn’t what he was building up to saying; instead, it’s a last minute cover for the actual news he’s too nervous to share.

“About his screenplay?” I ask watching his face for clues.

He sighs out a long breath, “Yes, the screenplay he wrote. I met with him initially, before all of this, and we’d already sent out information and recently received a few interested responses.”

His eyes nervously search my face as intently as I search his, making our encounter feel ridiculous. We’re brother and sister, not rival spies intent on learning each other’s secrets.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to explain it to me. There’s no reason you shouldn’t work with Niko. I’m still not sure how I feel about everything that happened, but no matter what, we’re both at fault for what happened. His actions hurt me, but I was the cause of them from the beginning.”

“Are you sure?” he asks cautiously.

“I’m positive,” I tell him just as guarded and stand to make my escape. “I have to go to InTune today, so I better go.”

He stands and pulls me into a hug, smiling as I go back into the house and make my way out the front.

Before I even have the front door closed behind me I notice the male figure leaning against the hood of my car. Apparently, speaking of the devil truly does make him appear. And shit he looks good. Dark jeans, plain white t-shirt, and his hair has grown longer on top with the rough whiskers I always loved covering his jawline.

“Brook,” Niko says as way of his first greeting to me since he admitted to having a part in why I got arrested.

Opting not to speak, I dip my head in acknowledgment. Even if I wanted to speak, the lump in my throat is so large I don’t think I could force a single word past it.

I walk a large path around him, making sure I’m out of arms reach so I don’t get pulled in. I’m aimed for the driver’s side door, but he moves to block me from opening it.

“Can we talk?” he asks in a hushed tone as his hands reach toward me.

I retreat two steps for my own sake, afraid to be that close to him. I shake my head and make sure my eyes don’t connect with his.

“We need to talk,” he insists. “I need to explain, and you at least owe me that.”

The second part of his statement comes out direct and harsh, leaving my heart to hammer away in my chest. The full force of his words causes me to flinch as though they leapt from his mouth and slapped me across the face.

“I’m not ready,” I manage to squeak out.

“You need to get ready. I’ve given you time. I’ve left you alone, but if you expect me to just let you completely disappear then you are wrong…and you don’t know me very well.”

“Oh, I know you,” I snap, my eyes still directed toward the ground.

“So you’ve decided then?”

My eyes finally move to his, my brow furrowing in confusion.

“Stephen. You’ve chosen.” He says it as a statement even though his declaration is wrong.

“No. Stephen is my friend. He’s there for me when I need him, I trust him…I needed a friend.” I bite out the last words, hoping their barbs tear at the solid façade he is displaying.

He doesn’t speak, but a barely noticeable change occurs, his shoulders drop and his stance weakens. When he does finally speak, his voice sounds thick and solemn.

“Then what do you need? What more can I do if you won’t let me talk to you and explain?”

I stop the anxious thoughts barreling through my mind and look at him. At every inch of him: his rounded shoulders, his arms hanging aimlessly by his side, and the tightness in his face. Nothing about his current presence is normal for Niko.

Finally, his eyes move up to connect with mine, and they look vacant, like the luster in them died long ago. My heart seizes and my stomach plummets. In his eyes I finally see a tangible reflection of what I feel like on the inside.

“Niko,” Brock calls. “C’mon, I’m waiting for you.”

Neither of us turns to acknowledge my brother’s words, our eyes remain locked until cold chills rush up my spine, and I finally tear my gaze from him. Nausea plants in my stomach and threatens to spill my breakfast at Niko’s feet, but before that occurs, he turns and walks into the house, leaving me staring at the door he disappeared through.

***

I arrive at InTune completely unaware of how I got there. The entire drive is a numb blur. A couple weeks ago, I would have welcomed the numbness in place of the betrayal, but today the numbness offers no relief for my pain.

It’s Saturday, which means I’ll likely be the only person spending my afternoon here. Everyone else works during the week; I work when I’m given a job.

The dark office confirms my suspicions; I’m all alone. Grateful not to have to fight for space, I head for the back wall and drop my bag by the faster computer in the building; the one people fight over during the week.

It roars to life with the flip of a switch, and I dive into the work, hoping to distract myself. Those hopes plummet the moment I see the first image flash on screen. My mind immediately goes to Niko. Every hard line of the models bodies, the squared shoulders exuding power and confidence; even the half-naked blonde whose body calls to be dominated – all of it screams memories of Niko.

Even though I fight my memories, I manage to make it through the photos, picking out the good and discarding the bad, minutes before Kiki appears at my side.

“How’d they turn out?” Her voice breaks through the quiet room, effectively pulling me from my lingering thoughts of Niko and causing me to jump in my seat.

“Good,” I say in an airy rush while she smirks at my startled reaction.

“Hmm, exactly where was your mind just then?” A hint of mischief gleams in her eyes.

“Just somewhere else,” I meekly reply as I gather my gear back into my bag. “I added the photos to your server file and tagged the ones I think will work best. Just let me know when you get a chance to look them over.”

“I will before the day’s over; I trust your vision, so I don’t foresee any issues.”

“Good, I appreciate your faith in me,” I say, sincerely touched to finally feel a pleasant emotion from someone new.

“You have a great eye, Brook. You were always fabulous in front of the camera, but you might be even better behind it.”

I stand and swing my bag across my body.

“I have another job tonight, so I have to head home and get ready. Thank you again, your confidence means a lot.”

She nods and her features soften. “What job do you have lined up tonight?”

“Shooting some marketing material for Surf. Even though the place is packed almost every night, Stephen is having a grand opening celebration this weekend to hopefully increase word-of-mouth. He wants some PR shots from it.”

“Ah, mixing business with pleasure. I guess that habit is hard to break.” She elbows me with a knowing wink.

“No we’re just…” I start to defend my relationship with Stephen, but stop. Wasting my breath on the subject won’t make a damn bit of difference. “Never mind, I’m not even going to try to explain.” My voice has a hint of humor she immediately picks up on.

“Yeah, sometimes the complication just isn’t worth it.”

We both laugh.

“You should come by tonight, Stephen has a section in the VIP area. After I get some good shots I plan to relieve some stress by way of a dirty martini or two…or six.”

She smiles and turns to head to her office, “I just might do that, and then I can meet this Stephen of yours and determine exactly what your relationship is…or is not.” She winks then disappears behind the door.

Chapter 3

Surf is packed, and I know I’m going to have to get creative if I plan to get any good shots resembling something other than a bunch of flailing limbs. Every single person entering the club has signed a release giving permission to be included in marketing material. I think it has actually increased the amount of people flooding through the doors. I’m free to let my camera capture what it will, and I’ve been looking forward to this night since the moment Stephen asked me.

It’s barely after ten and the dance floor is already overflowing with writhing bodies looking for another warm body to latch onto. I hover on the outside of the mass searching for the perfect subjects to focus my aim.

There’s a good mixture present – blondes and brunettes are bunched together holding hands for support as they laugh; underdressed bodies showing far too much skin dancing with those that obviously came straight from work, donning their perfectly pressed suits – the only thing they have is common is they’re having a fantastic time.

I know Stephen wants me to capture the club and show what the patrons can expect when they pay their hard earned money to enter. The ambiance the club offers is beautiful. He spent a fair amount of money making sure the club has a modern edge, but with a welcoming touch. But I think appealing to the emotional side by showing the amount of fun they can have will work better drawing in potential cliental.

I focus on the blonde and brunette closest to the edge of the dance floor. They are obviously friends out for a girls’ night. Their attention is strictly on each other and the fun night they are pursuing. Each have a hand wrapped around a multicolored drink with their other hands threaded together as they sway to the beat of the music. The lens is not aimed on their faces, even though they are both wearing wide, pearly white grins; instead, I focus on the union of their hands as they drape together in their shared experience. Their drinks, and the lights gleaming across the dance floor, fill the background, perfectly framing their connection to a joyous moment.