Soaring by Jassy Mackenzie

Author:Jassy Mackenzie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-10-03T04:00:00+00:00

I had agreed to go with Hassan. Why not? Dave was out of town, I was on my own, and this party promised to be a fun event. It was being held by a wealthy friend of Monika’s to celebrate the opening of his gorgeous, new Long Island guesthouse—a converted mansion. No members of the press were allowed; this was a private party, with the media opening taking place the following week. And Ahmed would also be there, which I knew meant a lot to Hassan. Perhaps, if we were discreet and careful, they would be able to spend the night together.

We all had room keys allocated, but Hassan didn’t take his key. Ahmed and I had neighboring rooms, which were large and beautifully decorated in rich, bright colors. Sliding glass doors opened onto secluded balconies, with a shared garden beyond. In the end, we decided I should use Ahmed’s room because the balcony in the other room, right at the end of the corridor, was more private. This would be better for the two men, so we swapped keys.

The party was held in sumptuous style. A buffet groaning with food, an open bar, a live band. I’d expected to party into the small hours, but ended up exhausted long before midnight. My two neighbors retired at about the same time. I’d climbed into bed feeling happy at the thought of them spending the night together in this opulent setting, hoping that before too long, they could live in love, without fear of repercussions.

I woke suddenly, early in the morning, with gray light filtering through the curtains. I sat bolt upright, my heart pounding, sweat chilling my body. I realized I’d just wrenched myself from out of a terrible nightmare. The residue of fear still lingered, prickling my skin. What had my bad dream been about? At first, I couldn’t remember. Breathing hard, I turned the bedside light on to banish my fears, knowing I wasn’t going to get back to sleep.

And then it hit me…a vivid picture, spine-chilling in its detail.

I saw a man I recognized, using a flashlight to sort through the room keys. The beam shone onto the list, lighting up Hassan’s name, which was next to an unclaimed key. The man smiled at the sight of it, quickly photographing this evidence before checking for my name on the list of occupied rooms and searching for a spare key…

I let out a moan of terror. The man I saw in the picture was Carlos, the paparazzi photographer.

Was my vision for real? I jumped out of bed and then stood, indecisive, the tiles cold under my feet.

Was it true, or just a nightmare? Had Carlos somehow infiltrated this event? I felt cold all over. I tiptoed to the door, listening, and dread filled me as I heard the faint sound of footsteps, quietly approaching down the long, tiled corridor.

I sprinted to the glass doors at the back of the room, wrenched them open, and in a few seconds I was tapping urgently on the glass doors of the neighboring room.

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