Amanda - The Phantom Canvas: Part III

The Club

The rooftop bar was exactly what Amanda had hoped for—crowded enough for anonymity, upscale enough to match their spa-day story, with enough ambient noise to cover conversation. She and Nicole had claimed a corner table with city views, drinks already ordered.

"I just need to freshen up," Amanda said, standing. "Order me another wine?"

The bathroom was mercifully empty. Amanda checked each stall methodically before positioning herself in front of the mirror. She studied her reflection under the harsh lighting, looking for anything that might give her away.

The scratches on her arms were barely visible, easily explained by spa treatments. Her hair was perfect, makeup intact. No trace of mud anywhere.

"Jesus," she whispered to her reflection. "You actually did that."

She'd killed before, but never so directly. Never with her bare hands. The speed of her reaction had surprised her—muscle memory from years of gym training, reflexes she didn't know she possessed.

"Get it together," she told the mirror. "This changes nothing."

But it did change things. She was more dangerous than she'd realized. More capable. The thought should have disturbed her, but instead she felt oddly proud.

Adapt and survive. Eliminate threats. Move forward.

"Nicole's the priority now," she continued, checking her teeth, adjusting her hair. "Go slower. Be more careful. They're not expecting anything, so don't give them reasons to start."

She knew the psychology better than anyone. People aren't trained to question what looks normal. They take emotional congruence at face value—if someone acts calm, composed, routine, they assume nothing's wrong. People don't want to believe monsters wear familiar faces.

Amanda smiled at her reflection, practicing. Warm, genuine, slightly concerned about Nicole's wellbeing. Perfect.

"Everything is under control," she told herself, then walked back to rejoin Nicole.

Nicole was scrolling through her phone when Amanda returned.

"William texted. He's going to be even later than expected. Some client emergency."

"Poor guy," Amanda said, settling back into her seat. "Does that happen often?"

"More than I'd like. But that's what happens when you're good at your job, I guess." Nicole put her phone away. "Sometimes I wonder if he uses work as an excuse to avoid... I don't know. Real conversation."

Amanda took a sip of wine. "What did you want to be when you were younger? Before you met William?"

The question seemed to catch Nicole off guard.

"What do you mean?"

"Just curious. When you were, say, twenty-two. What were your dreams?"

Nicole was quiet for a moment. "I guess I never really thought about it that way."

"How did you think about it?"

"I don't know. I was focused on graduating, finding a job, meeting someone nice." Nicole shrugged. "Normal things."

"But what did you want to do? What made you excited?"

Nicole stared at her wine glass. "I honestly can't remember having those kinds of dreams."

Amanda waited.

"Is that weird?" Nicole asked. "That I can't answer that question?"

"Not at all," Amanda said gently. "Lots of people focus on stability first. Security makes sense."

Nicole looked relieved.

"But what about now?" Amanda continued. "If you could do anything, try anything, what would it be?"

"Now?"

"Right now. In this phase of your life. If there were no constraints, no responsibilities to anyone else, what would you want to try?"

Nicole laughed nervously. "I don't know. Travel somewhere exotic maybe? Learn something completely new?"

"Like what?"

"I used to think about learning to surf. Or taking a pottery class. Or..." Nicole stopped herself.

"Or what?"

"This is going to sound stupid."

"Try me."

"Sometimes I fantasize about just disappearing for a weekend. Going somewhere no one knows me, being someone completely different." Nicole’s cheeks flushed. "See? Stupid."

"That's not stupid at all," Amanda said. "That's adventure. That's being alive."

She leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Don't look now, but there's a guy at the bar who's been checking us out since we sat down."

Nicole's eyes widened. "Amanda, no."

"I'm just saying. When's the last time someone looked at you like that? Like you were mysterious and interesting?"

"I'm married."

"So was I. Look how that turned out." Amanda raised her glass. "Maybe it's time to remember what it feels like to be desired."

Nicole glanced toward the bar despite herself. A tall Latin man with thick black hair was indeed watching them—dark eyes, confident smile. He had the kind of presence that suggested he was used to getting what he wanted.

"He's attractive," Nicole admitted.

"Very." Amanda caught his eye and smiled. "And we're two beautiful women having drinks. What's wrong with a little harmless flirtation?"

"Amanda, I can't—"

"You can't what? Have a conversation? Feel attractive? Enjoy being noticed?"

The man was walking toward their table, moving with easy confidence.

"Evening, ladies," he said, voice smooth with a slight accent. "I'm Carlos. Mind if I join you? I'm thinking tonight could be very interesting for all of us."

Amanda looked at Nicole, eyebrow raised in challenge.

"We'd love the company," Amanda said before Nicole could respond.

---

Carlos's Apartment

The penthouse was all glass and steel, city lights spread out below like scattered diamonds. Carlos had poured expensive whiskey while putting on music—something low and sultry that filled the modern space.

"This place is incredible," Nicole said, standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Thanks. Import business has its perks." Carlos handed her a drink, standing closer than necessary.

Amanda was on the couch, watching Nicole with an expression of amused approval.

"So what do you beautiful ladies do?" Carlos asked.

"I'm in consulting," Amanda said. "And Nicole here is far more interesting than she gives herself credit for."

Nicole felt the familiar flush of being noticed, complimented. The whiskey was stronger than the wine, making everything feel softer around the edges.

"What makes you interesting, Nicole?" Carlos asked, his attention completely focused on her.

"I'm really not—"

"She's modest," Amanda interrupted. "She was just telling me about all the adventures she wants to try. The secret life she's been planning."

Nicole shot Amanda a warning look, but Carlos was intrigued.

"Secret life? Now I'm definitely interested."

The conversation flowed for another hour, the alcohol making Nicole bolder than usual. Carlos was charming, attentive, asking questions about her thoughts and dreams in a way William hadn't in years.

"I need to freshen up," Amanda announced, standing. "You two keep talking."

"I'm good," Nicole said, not wanting to break the spell of Carlos's attention.

"I'll just be a minute."

Amanda disappeared down the hallway, leaving Nicole alone with Carlos. The music seemed louder now, the lights dimmer.

"You're beautiful," Carlos said, moving closer on the couch.

Nicole felt a thrill she hadn't experienced in years. "Thank you."

"Your husband's an idiot for working late."

"He's not an idiot. He's just—"

Carlos kissed her, cutting off her words. For a moment, Nicole kissed him back, lost in the excitement of being wanted, being chosen.

Then reality crashed in.

"Wait," she said, pulling back. "I can't do this."

"Sure you can," Carlos said, his hand sliding up her thigh. "You want to."

"No, I need to go." Nicole tried to stand, but Carlos grabbed her wrist.

"Come on, don't be a tease."

"Let go of me."

"We were having fun." His grip tightened. "Don't ruin it now."

Nicole tried to pull away, but Carlos yanked her back down onto the couch.

"You came here for a reason," he said, his other hand grabbing her face. "Don't pretend you didn't know what this was."

Nicole screamed.

Carlos clamped his hand over her mouth. "Shut up. You're going to wake the neighbors."

He was reaching for her shirt when Amanda reappeared.

"What the hell?" Amanda shouted.

"Your friend's having second thoughts," Carlos said without looking up. "Give us some privacy."

"Get off her!" Amanda grabbed Carlos's shoulder, trying to pull him away.

He backhanded her casually, sending her stumbling across the room. "Wait your turn."

Amanda hit the coffee table hard, scattering glasses. She came up with a heavy crystal ashtray in her hand.

"Nicole, duck!"

Nicole threw herself sideways as Amanda swung the ashtray at Carlos's head. It connected with a sickening crack, and he toppled forward onto the couch.

Amanda stood breathing hard, ashtray still in her hand, looking at the unconscious man.

"Is he...?" Nicole whispered.

Amanda knelt beside Carlos, pressed her fingers to his neck. "Still alive."

Carlos groaned, stirring on the couch. Amanda looked at the ashtray in her hand, then at Nicole.

"He's going to call the police," Amanda said quietly. "He's going to say we attacked him. One man against two women—who do you think they'll believe?"

Nicole stared at her in horror.

"Unless," Amanda continued, "he can't tell his side of the story."

"Amanda, no—"

"He was going to rape you, Nicole. He was going to hurt you." Amanda moved toward Carlos with the ashtray raised. "This is self-defense."

"Stop!"

But Amanda brought the ashtray down hard on Carlos's temple. His body jerked, then went still.

Nicole was shaking, tears streaming down her face. "Oh God, what did we do?"

"We defended ourselves," Amanda said firmly, checking Carlos's pulse again. "He's gone."

Nicole collapsed onto the couch, sobbing. "I can't believe this happened."

Amanda sat beside her, pulling Nicole into her arms. "You didn't do anything wrong. He was going to hurt you. We had no choice."

"What are we going to do?"

"We clean this up and go home to your husband," Amanda said, stroking Nicole's hair. "And we never speak of this again."

Nicole looked up at her through tears. "What if someone finds out?"

"They won't," Amanda said with calm certainty. "I'll make sure of that."

She held Nicole while she cried, already calculating their next moves.

Nicole was hers now.

—Sal