Broken Read Online Free Page B

seeing what you’re seeing. The kind that makes
     men do many, many things, but not things like this.
    James waits in line, even letting someone go in front of him. He is not here for any other reason except to speak to her.
    It took him six months to find her. A few more moments won’t matter.
    He eventually approaches her and glances into delicious, delicate eyes.
    “How are you today?” she asks.
    “Fine, thank you. And yourself?”
    “I’m doing well. How can I help you?”
    “I just want to know what it feels like to kill somebody.”
    There is a blank look on Laila’s face. No color, no emotion, no anything. And James can imagine she’s given this look before.
     That she’s gotten used to stepping out of her beautiful, sleek skin to go somewhere else. It’s protection. It’s her way of
     coping.
    “ ’Cause see, I don’t really know what that’s like. It’s gotta give you a sense of empowerment, doesn’t it?”
    For a moment she glances around, but he’s not talking loudly enough for anybody else to hear.
    There is color and emotion in her face now. White fear. That’s what it is, white blazing fear.
    “What do you want?”
    James nods. She’s smart. And she’s strong. She’s not playing a game. She’s getting right to the point. Again, probably out
     of practice. Lots and lots of practice.
    “There’s a lot of things I want,” he says.
    Those hazel eyes don’t back down.
    This is the first time he understands who he might be dealing with. And he can’t help breaking into a smile. He likes her
     already. Laila’s a fighter.
    “How can I help you?” she asks again with more attitude.
    He gives her a slip of paper with a name, address, and time written on it. He makes sure he speaks very slowly and carefully
     so she hears every single word he’s saying.
    “I know where you live and where you work. And if you try to runagain, I’ll get you before you leave this city. And trust me—I’m not going to end up like my brother.”
    Her eyes widen, and she stares back in silence.
    “Don’t disappoint me.” James walks out of the bank and into the sunshine of the day.
    •   •   •
    The silence creeps over her, its hairy fingers caressing her exposed skin trying to find a spot to burrow into. As much as
     she tries to act normal and nonchalant, a panic is simmering deep inside. She knows she needs to do something and do something
     fast.
    Even though the walk home from work proved uneventful, Laila still felt like she was being watched the entire time. Now, restless
     in her quiet apartment, she wonders if she’s being watched or listened to this very instant.
    At least she knows for certain who put the bag in her bathtub.
    She’s already searched the entire apartment to make sure she is alone, a habit she’s becoming accustomed to. She spent a few
     moments looking at the contents of the refrigerator and the pantry, both paltry and proving to offer nothing worth eating.
     The call to Shelley produced only an answering machine that Laila doesn’t feel like talking into. She finally finds a fashion
     magazine and attempts to read it, but even that brings with it tiny barbs of the past.
    On the sixth page, Laila is halted by the arresting image of an ad. A sad smile covers her face.
    She knows the girl’s name, a young sixteen-year-old when they first met in New York lifetimes ago. It’s a major ad with a
     major label, a life Laila knows well. She finds herself happy for the girl and hopeful that ten years from now she’ll end
     up in a better place than Laila did.
    It’s difficult reading magazines like this. They are reminders of a life once lived, of a major dream once fulfilled.
    What happens after dreams come true? That, Laila knows, is the story never told.
    She is contemplating throwing the magazine away when the door slams open. She jumps off her couch. For a second she’s bewildered
     because the sound doesn’t come from the doorway to the apartment but rather