Intersection Read Online Free Page B

scissors around his finger while he sipped his drink. The folding chair at the table had bent legs, but he seemed unconcerned about its ability to support his weight. He set the whiskey down and spun the scissors one final time. Unexpectedly, the blade slipped and poked his palm. A small trickle of blood fell onto the paper. He frantically grabbed a napkin and wiped the blood from his hand while swiftly turning to find the photo that commanded his interest. There was a tiny, barely visible drop of blood on its corner. His face grew flushed and he pulled at the very short hairs on his head as though his world were ending. He took a deep breath, licked the napkin and dabbed the spot on the picture.
    The spot became slightly darker, but in his mind it seemed to erase the evidence of any transgression. He traced the outline of the face in the picture with his finger and his breath quickened. He picked the scissors back up scolding them with his eyes. Deliberately, he looked back at the face on the paper and inhaled, closing his eyes to calm himself. His hands shook but he remained determined to cut the picture out with perfect symmetry. He slowed his pace and methodically removed the photo from the page before walking to the large wall acrossfrom him. He stood and studied his work, found the perfect place and put a small tack in either corner to secure it.

    Alex paced across the living room and looked at the photos displayed on the tables and mantle in frames. There were photos everywhere. Most were photos of Dylan; Dylan with Cassidy, Dylan with Rose, Dylan with the congressman, Dylan. Alex stopped and looked at one that sat on the mantle. It was Cassidy. She was younger in the photo, Alex thought perhaps 18 or 19. She was smiling and holding a Stanford banner. Cassidy reached the large doorway to the room and stopped, taking a moment to watch the agent as she studied her new surroundings. “Yeah… hard to believe I was ever THAT young,” she acknowledged.
    Alex turned and looked at the woman as Cassidy made her way into the room and plopped onto the couch. “Stanford?” The agent questioned.
    “I guess I figured you would already know that,” Cassidy said.
    Alex shrugged, “I did…I just wondered.”
    “How a Stanford grad ends up teaching school in Harlem to at risk teenagers?” She laughed. “Well,” she said kicking the shoes off her feet and heaving them onto the coffee table. “I always hoped to write a novel, but I also wanted to teach. When we moved here…well…”
    Alex sat down on a chair. “What did the congressman think?”
    “Of me teaching or of me teaching in Harlem?”
    “Either.”
    Cassidy laughed. “We may need wine for this conversation.” Alex smirked. “Ohhh… well, as long as it worked for his image, I guess. He’s always worried about how people perceive him… you know, his ‘image’.”
    “I’m sorry,” Alex said unsure of what else to say.
    Cassidy chuckled. “Don’t be. It goes with the territory and that is just Chris. He’s like that guy who admires anyone who can do anything better than everyone else. Like, for example, he loves that movie
The Italian Job
– you know the prefect heist? That’s just the way he’s always been. Bigger is better and if you give him a lot of attention along the way, well, that’s heaven.”
    Alex knew the type well. Her career had been littered with men who craved more attention, more power, more everything. “So, anyone come to mind at all?” Alex asked. “You know, that might be out of place?”
    “You really think this might be something, don’t you?” Cassidy asked looking at the agent for some reassurance.
    “I’ve learned to be careful, Cassidy. Some people might accuse me of being too careful.”
    “Well, I just can’t understand why anyone would want to hurt Chris…or us.”
    Alex looked at the woman and shrugged slightly. “Unfortunately, there are some people in this world that just… well they can be dangerous.