Shadow Games

By Nicole Green

The Shadow - her shadow is the one constant in Ciara's life she never wanted. It took everything from her. Her home, her parents, her friends, everything she ever owned. And then it even took him. Sean. The one who had given up a future just for her. But his death gave Ciara back the chance to fulfill the dream he had for her - to graduate colle

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicole Green
• Release date: Jun 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9780578900797

Nicole Green

I write contemporary romance novels that stray a little bit outside of the genre. I've always had trouble coloring in the lines, so to speak. I published three full-length novels with Genesis Press: Love Out of Order (February 2010), The Davis Years (February 2011), and Holding Her Breath (July 2011). I am now venturing out into the self-publishing world, and I love it so far. My first novella, Pink Champagne, is available here at Smashwords and in most other places e-books are sold. I hope to publish two more novels by February 2013. Visit my website for updates about those.

Book preview

Prologue

The bags sat next to the door, the three cardboard boxes already in the back of the Jeep. They did a last quick sweep through the studio apartment with stained carpet and chipped, cracking drywall. The young man pushed open the bathroom door and came back out into the main room seconds later, Nothing – you check. What about the cabinets?

Nothing. Switch, the young woman replied as they continued their well-practiced routine. They had done this so often they didn’t need to discuss it and both knew how important it was to not leave things behind as they lived such a minimalist lifestyle. Combined, their belongings totaled a box of books each, a tote of kitchen supplies, a cooler of food, and two duffels for clothes. The girl had an extra bag for school and her small amount of art supplies, while the boy had a case for his acoustic guitar.

Sean, really? The girl came back out holding a towel fraying badly at the edges. She placed a hand on her hip and raised her eyebrow. The towel may not have looked like much to others, but it was important when it was all you had.

He snorted, Oops.

"Ooops? I am not sharing a towel with you again. Gross, she quickly folded the towel and shoved in into a bag. How were the cabinets?"

Don’t be so dramatic, Ciara. The cabinets were good. Grab your bags, Sean snatched the keys up from the counter and took two long strides over to the door. Together, they scooped up their bags and left, not bothering to lock up their abandoned apartment behind them.

They watched the shadows around them as they made their way through the hallway and out into the parking lot. Sean stepped behind her as she pulled the back door open. He turned to face the empty parking lot, eyes constantly monitoring their surroundings, his body ready to launch into action at any moment.

Where are we going this time? Ciara questioned as she shifted the items around to fit everything in. She had it down to a science at this point. Six years of living on the road would do that. Ciara reached back and took the guitar from Sean’s hand to place it over the boxes before picking up the other two bags from his large rough hands to squish them around the cooler to keep it from shifting around.

Sean didn’t answer right away, Not sure yet, but someplace with a good college. How do you feel about going back up to Michigan? Maybe Ann Arbor? I bet you could get into Eastern.

Ciara squeezed his upper arm to let him know he could step back for her to close the door, Sean, I don’t know. I think I might want to take a semester off. It’s getting into the final semesters and it’s hard jumping around. Everyone does things differently and it just gets all jumbled up.

You take one semester off, and then it becomes two and then you never go back. I want you to graduate and that’s what mom and dad would have wanted, Sean shook his head, You are going. He said it with such finality that she knew this was going to be more than just a parking lot conversation.

Letting out her breath, she knew this was going to happen the moment it got brought up. Sean was hell-bent on her graduating college even though he never graduated high school, Sean, I just want to help. Take a short break. I promise I will be able to go back.

Sean leaned over and kissed her just above her temple, This isn’t a discussion. Love you sis.

Ciara rolled her eyes at her older brother, Whatever. It’s a long drive to Michigan.

He laughed good naturedly – nothing much ever fazed him, Good thing I got those books on tape to drown you out then.

So feeling the love here bro, Ciara pushed him out of the way, but then looked at him seriously, Love you too though. It was maybe weird to the outside world that the two siblings said that to each other so often, but they knew what it was like to not be able to ever say those words again. Shit! She shoved Sean to the side and dove at the shadow coming at them from behind.

The shadow hadn’t expected her forceful jump against his middle and it drove the two into the hard pavement. It took only half a second for Sean to react and grab the back of Ciara’s shirt, pulling her up and tossing her behind him. He stepped in front of her, Get in the Jeep.

I’m not leaving you out here on your own! Ciara yelled as the masked man tried to kick Sean’s feet out from under him.

Sean snap kicked at his face, but the man rolled backwards and away from the siblings, giving himself the chance to climb back to his feet as he pulled a forearm length dagger out. Cia, this isn’t a choice. Get in the Jeep.

The man sneered at her from behind his mask, Better listen little girl.

I’m not little anymore and I’m not leaving you! Ciara stomped her foot and raised her fisted hands, preparing herself to fight against the man who had single handedly changed her entire world.

Sean growled out in annoyance, but couldn’t focus on arguing with her anymore as the man came at him with the sharp blade. Ciara proved her worth by gripping the masked man’s arm and twisting it, causing him to almost let it go as Sean nailed him with his broad shoulder in his sternum. The man gripped Ciara’s hair and yanked down on it hard, forcing her to the ground. Sean slammed his fist into the man’s jaw, causing him to let go of her. From the ground, Ciara leaned back to gain a better position to kick out his knee. The man groaned and dropped to the pavement with an audible sound.

An explosion of action suddenly caught the three fighters off guard, as four cars squealed to a stop around them in a half circle. The masked man was the first to pull himself back together. He gripped Sean’s wrist and twisted, forcing him down. He pressed the knife to Sean’s throat, pulling him flush against his chest, despite Sean being just a few inches taller.

Drop your weapon or we shoot! Someone called.

The man holding Sean laughed, Not a chance. Now Sean, be a good boy and tell me where it is.

I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sean spit out, trying to push the man off. He locked eyes on his little sister. He knew there was a slim chance he would be getting out of this situation alive and he also knew Ciara wouldn’t let the man go without a fight. He willed her to stay put. To get in the car. To drive away and never look back, but he also knew his little sister better than anyone and she would never willingly leave his side – especially if he were in danger. Sean swallowed hard.

She took a step forward, Sean!

Stay where you are! Everyone shouted at her. Ciara felt her eyes flooding as her body turned to ice. All she wanted in the entire world was to simply be standing next to her brother. That was it. The rest of the world could go to hell.

Drop your weapon, a man with a dark goatee demanded again.

The masked man continued his slow progression backwards to the uncovered alley between the apartment buildings as the new arrivals continued to stalk closer, Not a chance. He slid the knife with a fast jerk across Sean’s throat and shoved him forward, launching himself backwards down the alley.

Ciara was already moving, sprinting down the alley with an inhuman snarl. The man wasn’t prepared for her catching up to him – forgetting that she was no longer short and fourteen, but twenty with long legs that were used to running for her life. She tackled him from behind and he fell to his knees with a resounding crack. She raked her fingers across his face, ripping the mask off to get a look at the man who had destroyed her entire world for the second time. The man who played games from the shadows. The man she was going to destroy.

In the fall, his knife flew from his fingers, clattering across the broken pavement. Ciara dove for it, but he grabbed her ankle, pulling her back. Blood dripped into his eye from where her nails had torn his flesh.

Booted feet, pounded after them. The man forced himself up, grabbed the knife. For good measure, he kicked at her face, forcing her to instinctually pull back. He ran. Ciara screamed after him, but he was already gone.

She forced herself to turn around, leaving the masked man to the men in uniform chasing after him. She made her way back to the mouth of the alley. The mouth of the alley, where Sean’s blood pooled and trickled down into the sewer drain like water going down a throat. Ciara fell to her knees at his head. Her hand shook as she laid it on his soft red-brown curls, her thumb landing on the spattering of freckles across his cheeks.

She stared into the lifeless ice blue eyes as her world shattered.

Chapter 1: New

It all culminated into this. This place. This time. This thought. I had to get out of there. I couldn’t stay any more – too filled with the memories of his death and the short sudden move. The second time in two weeks in an uncountable number in my short lifetime.

The girl looked about her, dramatic thoughts revolving in a circle around her like a mobile gone wrong. Her best friend would be proud. Maybe there was a hidden writer in her after all. Ciara clutched at her short hair in frustration. All of her life’s belongings lay in two bags and a box, but she couldn’t remember what she had done with the picture. It took her an hour to pack up, but only fifteen minutes to tear it all apart, until it lay in her hands as she sat in the middle of the mess. She felt like an old rag that had been rung out so many times, the edges frayed all the way around. If you tugged on a sting the entire thing would come undone. It would be unmade. She felt unmade.

Tears choked her and spilled out in tiny crystals that gathered on her thick eyelashes. She gazed down at the simple frame, immortalizing the young man, freckled from the sun. Tall, his muscular arm wrapped around her shoulders in a protective hug. They laughed just before the picture was taken, making his eyes squint up in the way he hated. It was easy to tell how much they cared about one another and that was why so many mistook their relationship and believed them a couple, but words could never truly define what they were to one another. He was more than that. He was the only person in her life she could always count on, who encouraged her despite the hardships. He put her first no matter what and sacrificed everything for her – first his education, well-being at times, and finally his own life. He was her big brother, her only family, and he had left her truly alone for the first time in her entire life.

Furiously, she wiped away her tears, depositing the picture onto the bar in her new kitchen apartment. She set it right in the middle of the counter, listening to his voice in her head, Where’s that notorious backbone? I don’t have a wimpy sister who sits there crying. Let me see that smile and hear that laugh that scares away monsters! His voice had a crackle to it, like that of a fire popping dry branches. She smiled – just for him – and muttered a quick prayer she didn’t really feel. At this point, she wasn’t sure who would be listening anyway, they hadn’t seemed to listen for six years, but old habits died hard.

The girl ran the back of her hand across her eyes, drawing the pearly beads of water off her thick lashes to smear across her cheek and hand. She straightened and looked around again at her new apartment. Small by most standards, it seemed huge to her. Not a scrap of furniture inhabited the space either – making it appear that much larger. It was naked. She had trouble coming to terms with the idea that it was all hers. She wasn’t sharing. There wouldn’t be another body inhabiting the space with her. Her fingers felt numb. Her stomach a mess of knots and her heart a stone in her chest.

I should go get the blankets from Sean’s jeep – no, my Jeep, she corrected herself, swinging her messenger bag over her shoulder, before walking out of the door and locking her sparse belongings inside. Ten minutes later, she turned off the staircase to face the three rooms on her side of the floor. She sighed, then yelped as the door in front of her opened and hit her foot.

Sorry! A man’s voice rasped out and a hand quickly pulled the door back. An apologetic wrinkled face materialized from around the wooden object as he closed it. Are you alright?

Just fine. No worries, she turned and went to unlock her door, shifting her pillow and blanket to her arm holding the letter left on her windshield.

So, you’re the newcomer. I’m Mr. Durand, he stated, his voice sounded like sandpaper rubbing over new wood – a sound that only came with age. He paused waiting for a response, but one never came. His eyes looked at her with kindness she wasn’t used to receiving as she used her wardrobe to ward off most of humanity, Do you need any help moving in?

The girl pushed her blue door open and walked in to set her armload down and turned to face the man, It’s already all here. I’m sure you’re busy anyway, but thanks.

Recognizing the dismissal, he nodded, If you change your mind, feel free to come over and ask. I may be an old man, but I am still able, he turned and began the trek down the three flights of stairs. A vague, curious part of her wondered where an old man could possibly be going at this time of night, but it was easy to dismiss the thought.

She ran her hand through her short hair and sighed as she closed the door. There isn’t even any point to unpacking. I have nowhere to put it. She snatched up the envelope instead. Inside sat a credit card and a letter reading in small cramped handwriting:

Ciara,

I know you are lacking many things in the place we put you.

In the rush to get you to safety, we didn’t have time to properly furnish

your living space. Please use this to get the things you need – do not

worry about the cost. We will be in touch. There is still much we don’t

know. Keep your eyes open.

_____

Rolling her own eyes, she closed the brief letter and thought, ‘Keep my eyes open?’ What shit. That’s what I’ve been doing most of my life. At least they were considerate enough to give me money. Ciara forced herself not to dwell on the fact that they had all but abandoned Sean and her for six years. Or if it hadn’t been intentional, then the fact that it took them six years to find them – and yet they had still been too late to stop it. Five minutes too late.

She threw her blankets and pillow onto the bedroom floor. It wasn’t the first time she had slept on the floor. She had slept in many worse places over the last six years – this was nothing. Semi-clean carpet was heaven compared to wet grass – although the grass didn’t smell like ancient cigarettes. Ciara burrowed into the mound of blankets and felt a bone deep weariness settling in. She inhaled deeply and choked back a sob as she fell into the dark.

When she woke the next morning, she clutched the blanket tighter to her chest and pulled herself down deeper, inhaling the scent of the grungy t-shirt she wore. It was one of Sean’s old band shirts converted into a pajama shirt for Ciara. Some people might think it strange she wore his clothes and found comfort from his scent, but to her it smelled of consistency and safety she had barely known since the age of fourteen. They had gone through way more than most people in a lifetime together. Despite the chill still hovering in the late May air, the young woman forced herself to get up and get moving. She had a lot to do and, in her mind, not much time to do it in. Help, in her world, could disappear in an instant and she wasn’t willing to give them a chance to reconsider the money they had given her.

A job. That’s the first priority. I can’t know when the idiots in charge of this show will forget all about me again. Then where will I be when that hunk of plastic stops working or my Shadow comes back to haunt me? Nowhere. That’s where. I will be dead in a ditch… just like Sean… the tears came again; she ignored them and continued making herself presentable for the world. Or as close as she could ever get.

As she trolled through the town searching for job postings and help wanted signs, Ciara shopped. Even though she knew she didn’t need most of what she bought – she had lived with next to nothing for so long – the money was there and she wasn’t about to say no to it. Not after all this time, they owed her something.

Just when she couldn’t fit another thing into Sean’s, no, her Jeep, Ciara headed back to the new apartment. The first trip was the most important. Food. Fridge and pantry stocked with more food than she could remember having in a long time and it wasn’t just non-perishables, but fruits and vegetables. Yogurt, milk, eggs. She had even splurged and bought real chicken, salmon, and beef. They were items she had only had with Sean on special occasions. As she put all of the items away, she felt her throat constrict and her eyes burned. Why couldn’t they have found us sooner. Five minutes, just five minutes sooner and you might still be alive.

Ciara slammed the door to her refrigerator shut, wanting the burn of anger over the drowning weight of grief. Anger fueled her. She could handle anger. She couldn’t handle the tears. Not right now. Not while she had a Jeep filled with miscellaneous furniture and other odds and ends.

Chapter 2: A Helping Hand

May I assist you? A voice asked around the giant box Ciara laboriously pulled up the stairs. Sweat poured down her face and she could feel her fingers losing their grip. She clutched at it tighter, fighting gravity.

Sorry! I didn’t think anyone would be around right now, she quickly pulled it onto the second landing, trying to open the staircase with her hip. That’s when she recognized her older neighbor.

He looked unsurprised at her independent struggle as a slight smile touched his lips, I thought you said you were all moved in?

She sighed at his nosiness and tried to remind herself that he probably was just trying to be kind. Ciara just didn’t like asking for help – especially now that she was on her own, because just when she needed it most, there would be no one there to depend on. The young woman looked the few steps down to her neighbor’s face, From the stuff I had – yes.

Ah. Do you need help now? His eyes twinkled and she got the impression that if she said no, he still wouldn’t let her attempt this on her own.

She shook her head and tried for it anyway, I’m fine, but thanks.

Stubborn, is what you are. That box is bigger than you are! The old man rolled his eyes in a good imitation of a young adult.

I’m stronger than I look, Ciara wiped a hand across her sweating forehead, but laughed at the strangeness of his gesture, despite herself.

"Clearly. You already came this far without help. Unfortunately, for you I’m stubborn as well and I have had more practice with it. Let me help, unless you enjoy dragging heavy boxes up three flights of stairs by yourself," Mr. Durand smiled and it brightened his wrinkled face.

I concede. She looked at his barrel chest and arms muscled despite the age. There was a point where independence became narcissistic and obstinate. She refused to be either. I guess if you don’t mind, I could use some help. Thanks.

He nodded, Great. Then… he waved at her and saw a name in black marker written on the box and said, Ciara?

She laughed despite the mood she was in, and shook her head. She pronounced her name for him, Key-Air-uh. It’s Irish.

Got it. Ciara, if you give me a minute to drop this off in my room, I will be right back to help you. She nodded and he dashed off to his room at the end of their hall.

An hour later, the two sat on her living room floor putting together a wooden futon and a coffee table with very capable hands. They had been discussing the general topics of the constant rain at this time of year and other generic topics, but as those options ran dry, Mr. Durand, finally, gave her a hard look and questioned, What brings you here to Pine Harbor? He pulled his silvery hair away from his sweating forehead while he methodically screwed in a leg to the frame. She had turned the fan on only briefly, but as collected dirt from the blades rained down on them, she had been quick to turn it back off. Apparently, her protection crew needed to hire a more capable cleaning crew, but that also reminded her that she needed to go back to the store to pick up more cleaning supplies than the three pack of Clorox wipes and dish soap.

Ciara smiled slightly as she finished putting together her end of the futon. Evasively, she answered, Escaping. I needed to leave where I was. Trying hard not to think more on it than that, she moved to throw away some of the trash which had accumulated from all of the packaging materials.

Decided to start completely fresh then. I still can’t believe you only have those two bags and a box of books, he shook his head completely unaware that most of the few belongings Ciara and Sean had possessed were still confiscated by the people who had showed up five minutes too late. What she had were the items that had posed no threat or were not under suspicion of whatever they were searching for – not that they would tell her anything more than that. Most girls – no, most people would have three times that and more.

She laughed for the first time in what felt like forever, I’m not most people. Plus, I traveled a lot before.

By yourself? He watched her look up at the picture and then down to focus on the leg she just put together for the coffee table. With him? He guessed, attempting to piece together the puzzle of his new neighbors’ life. Mr. Durand couldn’t help but be intrigued by her. She reminded him of his youngest daughter, but more than that she just seemed so in need of a friend. His past life as a teacher had taught him to trust those instincts and he was lucky – he had been able to retire just as his heart was beginning to give up on the students many of his colleagues had called challenging,