Portland Noir - Kevin Sampsell [92]
Kara double-timed until she reached her rental car in the motel’s lot, straight back to the club. She parked in the back corner, eyes fixed on the entrance, scared to blink; slid down into the seat whenever the doors opened, so just the top of her head was visible. If the bouncer saw her, he’d kick her off the lot or worse, call the cops, and then Kara might never find Kaya again.
Kara knew that once she got a chance to sit Kaya down with no distraction, she’d see that they were twins (soul mates), and would be grateful for rescuing Kaya from this; never want to leave Kara’s side. Everything that was hers was her sister’s too. They could travel, or buy houses next to each other, a hallway built connecting the two.
Hours passed, sky evolved to a darker gray, then black. Her stomach rumbled and legs got numb, but she didn’t notice.
Finally, a shift change, and Kara didn’t care anymore if she was seen. Kaya was one of the last to leave, angelic in street clothes and no makeup to hide the rose in her cheeks. She fumbled with her keys, got into an old Charger. Out of the cars in the lot, Kara didn’t figure that one, guessed the economical Honda or the white and red T-Bird. There was a lot to catch up on.
Kara counted to thirty after Kaya pulled out before starting the ignition. It didn’t matter if cars got between, Kara could see her sister through them.
Kaya pulled into the driveway of a light green and yellow house on the dubiously named Failing Street. Not far from the motel, would’ve met anyway, it was meant to be. Kara parked across the street, under a wide willow, watching as her sister went in and lights turned on in succession.
Kara chain-smoked the rest of her pack before she worked up the nerve. Now or never, as she threw the last butt into the street, couldn’t sit here all night. Deep breath and she walked up the porch steps. Knocked and rang the bell, did it again to be sure.
When Kaya threw the door open, Kara saw how much more breathtaking she was up close, dyed bright auburn hair (must have had it straightened). Barefoot, wearing pink yoga pants and a tank top, smoking, Kaya was more elegant than any Renaissance painting or Greek statue. Split second before she recognized Kara. “You. How the fuck did you find out where I live?”
“I followed you.”
“You’re crazy. I’m calling the police.”
Combination of panic and the adrenaline, Kara put her hand on the door and leaned into it. “Please, hear me out.”
Kaya sucked on her cigarette. “You’re not going to leave me alone until I do.”
Kara shook her head.
“We talk on the porch.”
“Of course.”
Kaya stepped into the night chill, shivering. “What do you want to tell me? Make it quick.”
Kara wished for another smoke, rubbed the fingers of her left hand together. “You’re my sister, my twin. You were kidnapped when we were four.”
“We look nothing alike, and I wasn’t snatched. My parents never hurt nobody. I think I’d remember.”
“Look at my eyes, mouth, hands. Don’t you see that they’re the same as yours?”
Kaya shook her head, impatient. “No, they’re not. I heard you out. Now, leave me alone. If you come by the strip club or here again, the cops will arrest you before you know you’ve been spotted.” She turned to go inside.
Kara couldn’t lose her now, grabbed her by the shoulder and whipped her around to make her listen, using all the force she had to make Kaya know how important this was. Kaya slammed into the doorframe, absorbing the energy of both their weight. Corner caught Kaya on the perfect angle at the base of her skull. Crumpled like Kara had inside when Kaya rejected her.
She wasn’t breathing, and Kara stood over her, very still, as she watched Kaya shiver a death shake, half-lidded