From The Dead by John Herrick

any guarantees.”
    “I’d say a guarantee was implied when you had your
mouth on me.”
    Jesse flipped the phone shut and banged it on the
counter.
    He should have known. He’d crossed a line. Now he
wanted to climb into a sinkhole.
    Who have I become?
    He could sense the guilt eat away at the back of his
mind. In his heart, Jesse felt he deserved the treatment Adam had
handed him.
     
     
    CHAPTER 18

     
    How long was he supposed to hang on to this cliff?
How much longer did he plan to claw his way toward nothing?
    Jesse wanted to give up.
    Engrossed by the Pacific water ahead, he hoped Adam
Lewis wouldn’t wander by. Alone, Jesse sat cross-legged in the
sand. His eyes, once vibrant with ambition and dreams, now felt
hollow. He couldn’t do this much longer. This wasn’t a matter of
missed opportunity or being played for a fool. This was a fight for
his destiny, his soul’s desire. He’d invested everything he had in
anticipation of future success. And the ominous notion that he’d
reached the final tool in his arsenal sent shivers through him.
    What do you do when your spirit is broken?
    He heard the waves call to him. What he wouldn’t give
to disappear.
    Camera by his side, he had planned to take some
therapeutic shots but didn’t feel motivated. So he sat.
    Jesse pondered his past, from where he had come. He
hadn’t appreciated his Ohio home until now. Though he’d come to
California to discover himself, he had discovered a stranger
instead. The people who knew him dwelt in Ohio.
    And here? Welcome to the charade. He had fooled
himself.
    He wished he could return home and make amends. But
by now he was too ashamed.
    Jesse’s cell phone chirped in his pocket. He didn’t
care who called and didn’t want to talk, but out of habit, he
grabbed the phone anyway. When he checked the caller ID, he
discovered the first positive development in weeks: his sister
Eden’s name on the display. Despite his efforts to forget his past,
Eden represented its final, albeit welcome, thread.
    “How’s my little sister?”
    “Where are you? I hear waves.”
    Today, he would’ve paid in diamonds to hear the sound
of her voice. “Malibu. Are you at work?”
    “Heading home,” she replied. “How’d the audition go?
That Mick Lewis part you mentioned.”
    “It didn’t work out.” He’d forgotten that in his
former certainty, he had mentioned that role to her. And he didn’t
want to go into further detail—not with anyone. In an attempt to
change the subject, he asked, “How’s Dad?”
    “He’s the same—you know Dad.” Eden paused. “Why don’t
you come visit him?”
    Jesse just shook his head and snickered, minus the
humor. “I don’t see that happening. After eleven years?”
    “He’d want to see you.”
    “I call him every once in a while.”
    “But it’s not the same as seeing you in person. He
misses you.”
    “Can we change the subject?”
    “How’s Jada?”
    “She’s … Jada.” He fingered circles in the sand and
said little. Eyes heavy, he closed them beneath the weight of his
inner shroud.
    Throughout the years, whenever he’d talked to Eden,
he had dominated their conversation with the latest news about his
projects, his girlfriend and acquaintances, the clubs he’d
frequented. From the way he’d spoken, Jesse had painted pictures of
warm, glistening sunshine and a lifestyle of perpetual motion. But
in recent weeks, even he could sense the vibrant detail had
vanished. By now Eden must have wondered if something was
wrong.
    On the other end of the line, Eden waited. Jesse
offered only wind and water in response.
    “Are you okay?” Eden asked.
    Jesse palmed the sand to erase the concentric circles
he had engraved there.
    Now you see it, now you don’t.
    In a moment. Gone.
    He lifted his head again.
    “No,” he replied. “No, I’m just not.”
     
     
    CHAPTER 19

     
    After Jada veered off of Interstate 405 in her
crimson BMW, she sped onto Ronald Reagan Freeway that