Feather On A Ledge.

Grace, the reporter chews on her pen and stares at you. She does this a lot, you’ve noticed. How she would ask a cunning question and keep staring at you even after you’ve answered. She would look into your eyes, searching for what you were not telling her.

"Are you sure that’s all you know" she asked, "two deaths in the mansion and you were absent for both" she said.

"I was out on errands", you replied. "Convenient uhn," she smirked at you.

She had been coming over, asking questions since the first death two months ago. You would admit at this point that you enjoy her presence. That’s a bad idea, you hear the whispering voice. You are familiar with this voice, it has been your guide for a while now. And it’s telling you to build the walls higher, to barricade the doors, to switch off the light in your heart, to harden it more. But you realize it already too late. She stares at you like she’s seen a lost friend. Something about her gives you hope.

 "You are aware of a man called Mr Kent," you asked her, laying the crumbs because you know she would follow. She is a very good reporter. "Mr Kent the watchmaker, I saw him around". You didn’t say much after that, leaving it to her to find the answers herself. You hope she finds it in time. 

Living in the house of the Collins had been the same as many others for you, being in a house of secrets, witnessing a family consume itself, not interfering, not helping. It had given you an odd perspective of life. And in a way it has all gotten predictable. You wish you didn’t have to live like this, to witness pain, betrayal, hatred and death. But this is the only way you can survive, it’s the only way you know, you hear the voice whisper, whenever it sense you thinking of living another life. A better life. Stop dreaming Drake, it warns, you know better than that. You also know a lot about the Collins, their plots and deeds, to an extent you know their thoughts. It is your job after all. Mr Kent taught you well. I hate that man, you tell yourself. But that’s as far as you got with your feelings for him, just words no action. You wouldn’t dare, not with what is at stake, the voice warned you again.

You were going to see this family crumble with its dangerous secrets like the others, but something you didn’t expect happens. Cecil, that brunette. She’s as hot as ice. She seduced and blackmailed you, the voice said, if that was the only problem, you replied. The reporter, you have true feelings for her, the voice wasn’t asking you a question. It knows, it always does. But you mustn’t get distracted, not when it’s almost over, that bastard will help you start a new life. He is demented but he keeps to his words, the voice reminded you.

 The brunette was the issue. Her claws were very deep into you, and she is not letting go. You could not mention her to Mr kent, if he doesn’t already know. You hope he didn’t, he might be able to get rid of her, but you would end up owing him more. You don’t want that. This is your mess, you have to clean it up. She had requested to see you, and discuss about the murders. She knows you are working for someone, she knows you gather information. She wants them, and she wants you to work for her. How did it get to this, you think to yourself. How did you get tangled up in secrets and blood.

 The Collins were good to you. Every family you worked on were always good to you. The humble servant, you made it impossible for them to think you could hurt a fly, impossible to suspect you of anything, they could conspire to murder a senator in your presence, and wouldn’t doubt you to keep your mouth shut. It was all part if your act, but Cecil saw through it all. And the reporter brought down your wall. You had gotten sloppy. Get rid of Cecil and Grace, you cannot jeopardize your freedom, the voice said.

You got to Cecils apartment, it going to be strictly business today, you had told her. None of your moves, am in no mood for that. She had agreed. You told her everything, how Mr Collins eldest son had plotted to take his younger sister’s life, after he found out his father made her the heir to the families business instead of him. You told her of how the plan had back fired, of how the sister had planned ahead of him and how he was the one who ended up dead.

"What about the Hank, how did he die?" you heard her ask, referring to Master Collins.

"His wife killed him", you replied.

"Did she blame him for her son’s death?" she asked and you said, "no, it was her daughter’s idea."

You noticed how shocked Cecil was, "mother and daughter unh, those bitches, they should have let me in on it", She said and sent you off.

On your way back to the Collins mansion, you thought of how you were going to make Cecil disappear. Telling her those secrets was your way of getting yourself off her radar, while she plans on how she is going to use her new discovery to her advantage, you’ll work on her disappearance. You hadn’t expected her response though, being the mistress of the late Master Collins, you had thought she would feel anger on how he died, but she want in on it. Crazy bitch, they were all the same, the voice in your head hissed.

 You stopped at the entrance of a skyscraper under construction, like you’ve been doing for some weeks now. You walk in and make your way to the top, avoiding construction workers. You enjoy the maneuvering and throw yourself in deep thoughts as you climb to the roof. Maybe I should tell her, how far would she have gone by now? You asked the voice and it replied, if you mean the reporter, then my answer is ‘don’t even think about it’, just hope she isn’t dead already. It had a point you admitted, Mr Kent is observant. You know if he does notice her even for a second, it could be her last. But for some reason you were not worried, Grace was more than an average reporter. You felt it in her. If anyone could save you, she was probably the one.

You got to the roof, there were no workers in sight. It was getting dark and you could see the city stars, windows of light and moving cars. The breeze was cold but comforting. You felt at peace up here. And now you stand on the edge of the roof, on the ledge and you feel light. You look down and the voice said, Not yet. 

You got back to the mansion to meet Cecil, and the Collins surviving women whispering to themselves at the dinning. They paused when you entered, you greeted them and went to the servants quarters. To a place with thin walls, so you could listen in on their conversation. You heard Cecil threatening them with what she knows, and asking for a large settlement. She was kind enough not to reveal her source.

You had not expected this, she made a quicker move. At this rate you would have to involve Mr Kent, it had gone out of hand. You cursed your sloppiness. The plan was to steal information from the Collins men and sell it to the women. No one else was supposed to know, the women would think Mr Kent broke their agreement. There goes your freedom, you thought. You decided to call and tell your employer everything. You noticed he wasn’t too angry when you told him how things had turned out. He said he would clean it up, but you owe him more.

You lay on your bed, you had chores to do but all you thought of was the ledge. You thought of looking down and doing it this time. You thought of the reporter, if she was still alive. You should call and check. Something tells you the next time you go up that incomplete building you’ll be coming down a different way. You should tell her everything, including how you feel. Just then your phone rang, it was Grace. She wanted to meet with you at noon tomorrow. You sign in relief, she was dead yet. You thought her voice sounded sweet and innocent. You would tell her come noon tomorrow, you will find the strength to say everything. You hoped.

 You met at a café, she was wearing a blue gown. You thought she looked amazing, you got nervous. she began almost immediately after you both sat.

"I saw Kent yesterday with that lady, Cecil?"She said, you hope she had not witnessed a kidnapping.

"Oh, this is bad", you said louder than you wanted to and Grace replied.

"You think so uhn, cause I heard Kent thanking her for her help with the Collins’ servant… how he couldn’t lose a good mole amongst other things like blackmail and settlement cash."

You were silent for a while, and then you burst into laugh.

"You think its funny", Grace said and leaned closer, "you are a mole and you’re involved in blackmail and murder." She whispered.

You stopped laughing and stared at her. How did she listen without getting caught, you wondered. You’ve realized from what she said that you were not getting sloppy, you were being played with. Mr Kent planned this to keep you under his thumb.

"What are you involved in Drake Feathers?" She surprised you calling your full name, "and why did you involve me? Ill have to report this you know, and you could face jail time."

You told her to report it in, that you would be fine.

"What’s going on in your head, Drake?" She asked, "what are you planning."

You looked away and said, "I thought you would love a good story, this is front page news."

"That will ruin your life," she replied then She stood up and went to order a drink. You know she didn’t have to, you could have called a waiter but she must have needed space from you to think.

You feel things would turn out okay, What the hell do you mean things would turn out okay?, everything is ruined, the voice whispered. We still have the ledge, you said to it and it went quiet. The reporter returned with two cups of coffee and asked for the entire story. You told her everything, from the time you lost your parent and became an orphan, to the time Mr Kent took you in, promising you a good life if you worked for him. You told her of the first time you had to kill someone to cover your tracks and ended up owing your employer for helping you get rid of the evidence. You tell her of the rich families you’ve helped ruin. She took it all in, jotting everything you said. You felt a huge weight lifted off your shoulder, but you hadn’t said the most important thing.

"Just say it", you silently reminded yourself. You knew you’d regret it if you didn’t. She looked up from her notes, and asked you if there was anything else. You said nothing, you weren’t going to burden her with a criminals love.

She puts her notes aside and stared at you, searching as she always does.

"You don’t plan on turning yourself in, do you?" She asked.

"My life had been a figurative prison up till now, I rather not make it literal", you replied. "Are you making a run for it tonight?" She asked, "when this story hits the paper you’ll be a wanted man" she said.

"I have nowhere to run to", you replied and she signed. She knows what you plan on doing.

You watch her take out her phone and dial. "Hello Mr Kent, this is Grace Ross of Intel newspaper" she said. She’s ratting you out, she’s in on this, run now! The voice in your head yelled and begged, but you sat there. If she was ratting you out to Mr Kent, he would kill you, saves you a lot of trouble. Although you know that’s not what she plans on doing. "I have evidence here that will lock you up for good,"she continued"… I know about the Jacksons, the sullivans and your latest victims the Collins… how I got it is not the issue, I want to make a deal with you…I want you to leave Drake Feathers alone…yes… and don’t try anything funny, if I or Drake disappear in anyway, all the evidence will be revealed by someone else… thank you for cooperating."

She looked at you after the call and said,

"That was mostly bluff Drake, I hope you have other evidence to back this up. His gonna want to see the proof we have and so do I." You don’t know how to react to this, you said you did and then asked

"why are you doing this for me?"

And she replied, "Because I care about you."

You were not convinced.

"You barely know me" you said.

"I would think we’ve bonded after all the time we’ve spent staring at each other" she said with a smirk.

"That was you looking for answers" you said. "That was me looking at my brother" she replied.

You were taken aback with what she just said, "Your brother?" You asked.

"He died you see," she said, "suicide… and when I look into your eyes, I see the absence that I saw in him days before I lost him, the pain. He had left me long before he pulled the trigger. I see that in you, and am not letting you die… work with me as a reporter, something tells me you’d be good at it. And I get to keep an eye on you…. Please." She pleaded holding your hands.

You could see the worry in her eyes. You knew she would be the one to save you.