When Faults Collide (Faultlines #1) (6 page)

I finished my evening by checking in with my dad, getting my laundry done, and scrubbing my bathroom.

I felt so amazing to have gotten so much done and climbed into bed Sunday night totally ready to take on Monday.

Before I turned off the light, I heard Blake’s music playing again. This time it was Imagine Dragon’s
Demons
.

Either he was psychic, or he had definitely read my blog.

Feeling brave, I opted for another Tweet.

I waited for a minute wondering if he would see it and sure enough, a comment popped up almost immediately.

I smiled.

“Goodnight Blake,” I whispered.

Chapter Five

His laugh is what alerts me that he’s near.

A cackle of pure evil coming from a voice laced with rasp that says that they’ve spent their life smoking.

I run, but there’s really no point because he always catches me.

I still run. Every time.

There’s no real background, everything is just dark with a thick layer of red fog covering the earth which kicks up every time my foot makes contact with the ground.

I’m always wearing my sari, but with my running shoes.

This time, I could hear him chasing me and laughing, but I kept running.

Voices start surrounding me from all around.

“It’s not our concern.”

“You shouldn’t have left.”

“You let her die.”

“You didn’t say goodbye.”

“Maybe you wanted it.”

“Maybe you deserved it.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

I covered my ears and screamed, but continued to run.

His hands appeared out of nowhere and dragged me into an alley that I didn’t see before, but knew from experience that it was there.

He tossed me against the wall with superhuman strength and his eyes shone red.

“Hailo palatu janavara,”
(Hello, pet,)
he said, his voice reminding me of a voiceover of the devil.

“Get the fuck away from me, you piece of shit!” I screamed.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He chided before reaching down and ripping my sari open.

“This is mine. All mine. It will never be yours,” he said in English.

I spit at him but not before he moved his hand up my thigh and I felt his fingers penetrate me.

I screamed and the red fog took over, choking me, killing me.

“Asha! Asha!” I heard her scream.

My eyes fluttered open and I saw a very concerned Lily sitting on the edge of my bed.

She pursed her lips and shook her head. “You want to talk about it?”

I shuddered, trying to come out of the nightmare I relived several times a year.

“No...thanks, Lils,” I said softly.

She sighed and put her hand on my knee.

“I’m here if you need me, you know.” She said.

I nodded. I knew that.

I checked the clock and realized that it was time to get up and go for my run.

Later that afternoon, I double checked myself in the mirror before grabbing my portfolio and slipping it into my messenger bag.

I had opted for a dressed up casual look for my meeting today. Venue owners tended to be laid back and not in the category of pretentious business owners.

Dark denim skinny jeans, a crisp white button up, and a peach vest gave me the look I was going for. My long ebony hair was pulled up into a bun and I opted for a light gloss with no jewelry.

I descended the stairs and grabbed a pair of tan flats from the basket and turned to show the finished product to Lily, who nodded in approval.

“Knock ‘em dead,” she said encouragingly.

I winked at her and went out the door.

The Used blared through my speakers as I drove down the hill towards The Bottom.

Shockhoe Bottom, known to locals as “The Bottom", is a tiny section of town in between Church Hill and downtown. It’s full of local eateries, bars, a few nightclubs, and music venues.

I found a parking spot, turned off my music, rolled up my windows, and slipped out. I walked through the alley towards the entrance until I saw the front door.

“Shine” was the name of the venue, and I knocked on the door intrigued to see the inside.

The door opened and none other than Mandy stood in front of me. The smile I had on my face immediately fell.

“Mandy?” I said, confused.

She turned on a fake smile that still looked condescending.

“Asha! How are you dear? What are you doing here?”

“Um...hey. I’m good. I’m supposed to be meeting with the owner about working on a project with him. What are
you
doing here?” I questioned.

She nodded, as if she understood. “Duh, of course. Well one of the bands I’m managing is playing here this week, so I was here setting up and getting ready for their opening show tonight.”

“Oh...okay. Is the owner around?” I asked, hoping to avoid much more conversation with her.

“Of course! How rude of me! Come on in.” She said, moving back to let me slide past her.

“Wow,” I said, looking around.

The venue was laid out in pretty typical fashion. A bar along the back, all one giant room with a stage along one wall.

What was so great was the design. The walls and floor were all black, but the ceiling was like a giant mosaic of broken glass and mirrors with a few well-placed lights that caused the ceiling to shine lights all over the walls and floor. The name made sense.

“I think he’s in the office. I assume you can find your way around the corner?” Mandy said, with a slight sneer.

So there’s the girl we knew. I nodded and plastered a fake grin on my face.

I turned and saw a hallway. I walked down it and around the corner to find an office door. I straightened my shirt and knocked.

The door swung open and I was met with fierce, green eyes.

The green eyes of Blake.

My mouth dropped.

“Blake?” I squeaked.

He adjusted his glasses and flashed a smile before extending his hand.

“Blake Daley. Nice to meet you, Asha Harris.”

Suddenly, all of those times he tried to talk to me — and all those times I rudely interrupted — made sense.

I took his hand. “So that’s how you knew I was a designer...”

There were those damn sparks again. I pulled my hand back quickly.

He nodded, his curls swaying as he did so. “Guilty.”

“Um...okay then. So, should we sit? I brought my portfolio for you to see...” I was determined to remain as professional as possible, despite the physical connection drawing me to the man in front of me.

He nodded. “Yeah, let’s sit. I’d love to see what you brought.”

Our eyes met and he smiled apologetically. Okay, so maybe this was awkward for him, too. That knowledge made me feel better.

We sat in his small office and I showed him my portfolio, making it a point to focus on the work I’ve done for other venues and for bands.

He nodded as I showed him everything, biting on the end of his pen in concentration while he asked questions about different styles and directions.

When we were done he clapped his hands together and grinned.

“Looks great! So, what I’m looking for is a logo and website design.”

I nodded and took notes in my notepad as he spoke.

“But since nobody around here has a clue, we were hoping to have an ongoing arrangement with a designer to do fliers and promo materials on a weekly and monthly basis to showcase all the bands that we have coming in,” he finished.

“Okay. So it sounds like what you’re looking for, and correct me if I’m wrong, is a full branding package with a logo as well
as a full website design. Do you have anyone setting you up on Word Press?” I asked, ignoring the cute dimple in his right cheek. I cleared my throat and looked down.

He shook his head, looking like a lost deer in headlights.

“Okay. So, basically you want a website done from the ground up, right?”

He nodded.

“Okay, no problem. So, full design package with logo, website, and then you want me to make myself available for small ongoing projects? Right?” I asked, amused at his obvious lack of know-how in this area.

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m trying, and obviously failing, to ask for,” he said with a shy smile.

I nodded and smiled encouragingly. “It’s no problem. Okay, so, tell me about Shine. What is your goal here?”

“We aren’t planning to showcase any big bands. Our focus is on the small, unsigned gems that litter our city. So our target audience are people looking for something new, fresh and undiscovered.” He said, his eyes gleaming with passion.

“So is it safe to say that Shine represents what you want your bands to do?” I asked, curious.

“Yes! That’s exactly it. You get it.” He exclaimed excitedly.

I smiled and let our eyes meet again, “Well, I’d love to be a part of all this. I think it’s great.”

He nodded again, “Yeah, I think this will work out well.”

He stood up and reached out his hand again, so I followed suit and gave him my hand, ignoring the sparks from our physical touch.

“So how about I send you some ideas as a starting point, you send me feedback, and then we’ll go from there?”

“Sure. That sounds great,” he said before going on. “Listen, since we’ve wrapped up business, could I ask you something?”

“Uh, sure. What’s up?” I asked nervously.

He put one hand on the top of his hair and put his other hand in his pocket.

“Do you wanna hang out sometime? Like...maybe get coffee or something?” he asked, his nerves showing.

Breathe
, I reminded myself. Friends get coffee, right? It’s just coffee...

“Oh...um...sure! We could do that. I go to Buzzy’s every morning.”

He chuckled “Yeah, I noticed that on Twitter.”

I felt the heat rising up my cheeks. “Oh...um...yeah. Haha.”

“Here. Let me give you my number.” He held out his hand and I slid him my phone.

He punched in the number and sent a text to himself.

“There. How about tomorrow morning?”