by Cameo Renae
“God, you’re so easy.” She laughed.
“Just keepin’ it simple.” I bounced upstairs and threw the bag on my bed, then walked over to the window. The sky was darkening, but down the street, I noticed a black truck with large tires pull up to the curb. The lights went out, and no one exited.
Then my breath hitched as I spotted something near the truck.
It was a dog.
Oh God.
Goosebumps ran up and down my body, my fingers gripping the windowsill as my legs went weak, realizing exactly what it was.
My eyes froze on the large, white wolf which had emerged from behind one of the bushes. It looked directly at me, its sapphire eyes glowing in the darkened street.
“Jonathan?” I could barely whisper the word.
It appeared to be the same wolf who’d first showed himself years ago. He’d come to me and a time when I needed him the most, to warn and guide me. He was my guardian angel, sent to help me after Michael’s murder. But since the day in the cemetery, I hadn’t seen or heard from him. Maybe it was because I hadn’t needed him. Maybe he was here now because he was trying to tell me something. To warn me once again.
Tears welled and cascaded down my face. To see him again made me wonder if Michael was somewhere near.
A loud sob filled the bedroom. I wiped my eyes and focused back outside. The wolf was standing a few feet away from the black truck, his eyes frozen on my window. I had no doubt it was Jonathan.
I quickly grabbed my phone and texted Mason.
Me: Mason?
Mason: Miss me already?
Me: Yes. But I have to tell you something.
Mason: Shoot.
Me: There’s a black truck parked outside across the street. I think it might be one of the drug dealers. They parked and haven’t gotten out.
Mason: Liam is leaving. He came to pick up his laptop and pack a few things.
Me: Maybe you should let him know, or at least make sure he gets out safely.
Mason: I will.
I looked back out the window and saw the headlights of the truck turn on. It was already dark outside, and the license plate had a dark tint to it, so I couldn’t read it.
The truck pulled out from the curb and stopped directly in front of the townhouse. Then, the window rolled down, and I saw Antman in the passenger seat. He stepped out of the truck, looked around, then his head shot up to my window. I ducked behind the wall, praying he hadn’t seen me.
My heart was beating so fast I could feel it. Anger rose up inside of me. How could one asshole be the cause of so much trouble and torment?
I heard a door slam shut and the roar of an engine. I peeked from behind the curtain, and the black truck was gone.
He must have been tipped off by his connections on the police force, and knew about the missing syringe.
I heard a door open and saw Liam exiting the house with a box. Mason followed behind him with a duffle bag, and when he got to the edge of the lawn, he paused and glanced down the street, both ways.
I quickly texted him.
Me: The truck left. It was Antman.
I watched Mason reach into his back pocket and look at his cell phone.
Mason: K. Helping Liam. I’ll txt u soon.
He then placed the bag on the back of Liam’s car. The two shared some words and hugged each other. Mason walked away, when Liam called out to him.
“The movers will be here tomorrow around ten.”
“Got it,” Mason replied, holding up his hand.
When Liam pulled away, Mason headed back to the house, so I texted him again.
Me: I see you.
He paused and looked at his phone, then glanced up to my window.
Mason: U stalking me?
Me: Maybe.
A broad smile revealed his white teeth.
Mason: Going to check Logan’s room. BRB
Me: Ok
Once safely in the house, I grabbed some sweats and a T-shirt, and made my way to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, I jumped in. When I was done, I checked my cell, and there were still no messages.
Maybe he ran into a complication? Could the syringe be gone?
A dozen questions ran through my mind. Then fear laced my veins and I paused.
What if Antman returned while I was in the shower?
Quickly, I dressed and headed for the window, but the curb was empty, and the street was quiet. I checked my phone again, and there was no response. My anxiety spiked, remembering what happened to Michael when he didn’t return my call or text.
I opened the bedroom door and ran down the stairs.
“Em,” I called.
The light was on in the kitchen, and as soon as I came around the corner, she, Tyler and Mason were sitting at the table.
“Hey, you,” she said, then noticed my face. “What’s up?”
“Umm, nothing,” I exhaled. I was glad they were all safe.
“The pizza should be here in about ten minutes,” Emily added.
I looked at Mason, and he held up his phone. “Sorry. Emily texted me to come over for dinner. When I tried to text her back, my phone died, so I came here to tell her.”
“Did you find the syringe?”
He lifted up a baggie with the syringe inside of it, still half filled with fluid.
I walked over to the table and took the baggie in my hand and examined it. I felt sick to my stomach knowing the liquid inside had caused so much trouble.
That asshole needed to be put away. He didn’t deserve to breathe, especially when he’d taken the breath away from others.
“It was exactly where you said it would be,” Mason noted. “I didn’t even know Logan had a secret place under his bed. No one would have found it.”
“She has an incredible gift,” Emily said.
“It’s not a gift,” I murmured. “It’s a curse.”
“But it was given to you because they knew you would use it for good.”
I was about to tell them about seeing the white wolf, but something inside held me back. Maybe letting them know would have been a little too much.
“Hey,” I said, and they all looked at me. “I saw a black truck outside. It was lifted, and the license plate was covered with some kind of tint. It was the guy who gave Logan the drugs.”
“That ass-wipe better stay away if he knows what’s good for him,” Tyler huffed, looking exhausted. His eyes were puffy, and he was still walking like he’d just gotten off the mule.
The doorbell rang, and Emily jumped, but it was the pizza delivery guy.
“Do you think it’ll be safe for you to be alone in that place tonight?” I asked Mason.
“I’m not going to let a couple of assholes scare me out of sleeping in a place I pay rent. Besides, I have protection, just in case.”
I wasn’t going to ask what kind because it wasn’t my business, but I couldn’t help being curious. Did he have a gun? A knife? Knowing the kind of person Antman was, he must have had a weapon too.
After dinner, Tyler waddled toward the kitchen cabinet, making strange noises with each step.
“Babe, what did you do with the painkillers?”
“They should be in there,” she said.
“You still sore man?” Mason asked.
“Dude, you have no idea. My ass feels like it's bruised, and my thighs and lower back are achy as hell.” Tyler looked back at the rest of us. “How come you guys aren’t feeling the same way? You went on the same ride, right?”
I shrugged. “Buttercup went easy on me. But I did notice you were bouncing a lot more than I was.” I giggled.
“I’ve never ridden a freaking horse, or mule, in my life, and believe me, I’ll never do it again. I could have walked and enjoyed it much more than having my ass take a beating for three hours.”
“You are the biggest drama king ever,” Emily sighed. “At least you did it. Chalk it up to experience, babe.”
“Uh-uh. I’d rather take a strong pain pill, go to sle
ep, and forget all about it,” he moaned, and then gestured to Mason. “Dude, what’s up with you? Got an ass of steel or something?”
Mason shrugged. “Not as bad as I thought I would be. But I was riding behind Buttercup, on a mule named Lazy Bones. That should tell you something.”
Emily and I laughed out loud as Mason stood from the table.
“I’m going to head home, put my phone on the charger, and turn in early.”
“Lizzy, did you want to do anything tonight?” Emily asked.
“No, I think I’m going to turn in early too. What do you have planned for tomorrow? Do you have anything?”
“Something fun,” she sang and wiggled her brow. “Did you really have to ask?”
“Nope, but it was worth a shot.”
“I have two days left with my bestie. We’re going to make it count.”
Her reminder temporarily stopped my breathing. “Two days? Is that it?”
“I know. It’s flying by fast. We need to slow it down.”
I glanced toward Mason, his brow was deeply furrowed. The look on his face mimicked the feeling I had inside. Confusion and confliction.
As he walked out the door, I felt the need to remind him. “Lock up and be safe.”
He grinned and waved. “I will.”
“You sure you don’t want to do anything?” Emily asked, as Mason walked out and shut the door behind him.
“I’m sure.” I needed some quiet time alone. Not that I didn’t love being around my best friends, but as an introvert, the vacation had been draining, mentally and physically. “Besides, Tyler needs your medical attention tonight.”
“Yeah, he’s such a big baby.” She laughed. “Tomorrow, I’m taking you out to breakfast. Just the two of us, and we will sit and eat and talk until they kick us out.”
“Now that sounds awesome,” I said.
“Love you, Lizzy. I’m really glad you’re here,” she said, hugging me. “I’m so sorry about the crap storm of death, over doses, and spirits. I never accounted for them. I just wanted you to come and have fun.”
“I am,” I said, hugging her back. “I needed this.”
After brushing my teeth and putting my hair up, I headed back into the bedroom. Plopping on the bed, I noticed a book under the nightstand. I pulled it out and opened it.
It was a photo book.
There were countless pictures of me and Emily, spanning from when we were small kids, all the way until we graduated high school. Page after page, I relived some of our most wonderful childhood memories. Swimming at the lakes, birthday parties, sleepovers, state fairs, school functions, snow days…but when I finally flipped to the very last page, it was filled with pictures of Michael. On the top, she’d handwritten the words, In Loving Memory of Michael Young. A beautiful life taken too early.
I closed my eyes, my heart shattering. I didn’t know if I was capable of looking at these pictures. It would be like losing him all over again. Michael was there for me during the hardest times in my life. He was my angel, guiding and helping me through. He was my rock, my laughter, my shoulder, my best friend.
These pictures shouldn’t have made me sad. They should’ve taken me back to a time when I was at my happiest. When he was there, so full of life. I sucked in a deep breath and opened my eyes. My heart filled with joy as I looked carefully at each picture, each showing his beaming smile. That’s what I loved about him. No matter what mood I was in, even at my worst, he could make me laugh.
The day he died, my world turned dark, and had stayed that way for the past three years. I could count the number of times, on one hand, I remember smiling. He told me to live and breathe, just not how. The how was all on me.
Being with Mason over these past couple of days had been good for me. I found my smile again, even if it was temporary.
But I was warring within myself. I knew Michael wanted me to be happy…but I doubted he meant with another person. It just didn’t seem right to me, and I felt like if I ended up with someone else, I would be letting him down.
I knew most people would say my thinking was crazy, and they were probably right. I was crazy, but I didn’t care what anyone else thought about me. At the end of the day, I had to live with myself, and endure the consequences of my choices.
Tears flowed down my face and onto the plastic covers as I traced each picture of him. God, I missed him so much it hurt.
I closed the book, clicked off the lamp, and crawled under the sheets. My heart was still aching, but not nearly as much as it had been before. I’d admit I was broken, but I also felt like my heart was starting to mend.
As my eyes closed, I heard the deep rumble of an engine. A familiar sound I’d heard earlier.
With a start, I jumped out of bed and peeked out the window. It was the same black truck.
This time, there were two people, dressed in black, who jumped out and headed toward Mason’s house.
Oh my God.
I grabbed my phone, my fingers shaking.
I dialed Mason’s number, and it went straight to his answering machine.
Shit.
I texted him next.
Me: Mason, they’re back. Two guys in black. Looks like they’re planning on breaking in.
Nothing.
I ran down to the second floor and was about to knock on Emily’s door, but heard loud snoring. Tyler was out cold. He had taken some strong medicine and wouldn’t be at his best. And there was nothing on this earth that would cause me to drag Emily into this mess.
I glanced at the time; it was a little after one in the morning.
Scurrying into the kitchen, I grabbed a knife from the drawer. I had to find a way to let Mason know.
When I opened the door, the huge wolf came bounding toward me, his teeth bared.
“Jonathan, I have to help him. They’ll catch him off guard and possibly kill him. He needs to be warned.”
The wolf stepped closer, growling even louder. I walked over and laid my hand on its head. “Thank you, but I feel this is the right thing to do.”
His sapphire eyes closed, then he whimpered and ran toward the side of the townhouse, where I’d watched the two men go. I had to do something. I had to make a call.
I ducked back into the house and dialed 911.
When the operator came on, I quickly told her that I saw two men in black trying to break into a neighbor’s house. Then I gave her the address. Thank God they had their numbers above their doors, and I’d memorized the street name.
She said she’d dispatch a nearby car, and it should be here within five minutes. But five minutes was an eternity. I knew what the intentions were of the two men, and I knew one of them was Antman.
I heard the breaking of glass and knew they would be inside soon. I dialed Mason’s number again. I didn’t even know which window was his.
Voicemail.
Dammit. It must have been turned off.
Out of options and desperate, I headed toward Mason’s house. The wolf intercepted my path and darted toward the truck. It stood in front of it, and then went around toward the side, its head popping back into view, eyes narrowing like it wanted me to follow. I ran toward the truck and ducked behind the driver’s side.
“What do you want?” I asked.
It whimpered, looking at the handle of the truck. Then it hit me. There must be an alarm.
I stood and yanked the handle, and sure enough, a blaring alarm went off. It scared me, making me grab my ears. I ran into a neighbor’s yard and ducked behind some bushes. When I looked around, the wolf was gone again.
I heard voices and then the alarm was shut off. Dammit. I wondered if it had woken Mason up.
I peeked around the corner, and no one was there, so I ran to the door and pulled the handle again. The alarm blared. It was sure to wake the neighborhood.
I saw a light click on upstairs and someone peek out a window. Waving my arms, I yelled, “Mason!”
But it wasn’t him.
It was Antm
an.
He brought up a walkie talkie to his mouth and said something. I ran toward the house, but before I reached the door, I was slammed from the side. The second guy had tackled me, knocking the air out of my lungs.
I gasped for air, unable to take a full breath from his weight on top of me. The guy had a black ski mask on. I tried to scream, but his hand came over my nose and mouth, suffocating me.
I bent my knees and thrust my hips upward, attempting to buck him off me. For a split second, he was shaken, and I grabbed the knife in my sweats’ pocket. When his weight was back on my stomach, I lifted the knife and stabbed it in his side. He screamed, and using the distraction, I pushed him off.
I heard a struggle inside Mason’s house, so I jumped up and ran around to the back. One of the windows was broken in, and it had a towel laying on the bottom. I quickly climbed in and heard struggling. Everything was the same here, except flipped from Emily’s layout, so I ran to the wall and clicked on the light. Then I turned on all the rest.
“Mason,” I screamed.
“Lizzy, get out of here,” he hollered. The two of them came tumbling down the stairs, bodies flailing. They landed with a thud, neither moving.
No.
I ran over to Mason and felt for a pulse. He had one. Thank God.
“Mason.” I shook him slightly, but he didn’t respond. “Mason.”
I heard a scream and was tackled from behind. Antman was on me this time. His eyes were glassy and red, and he was much stronger than I thought. He pulled a syringe out from his pocket and pulled the cap off.
“I know you have it. Tell me where it is, and I’ll let you go free.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
He grabbed my face in his hand and squeezed. “Bitch,” he spat. “Tell me where the fucking syringe is, or I’ll kill both of you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I screamed.
He got off me and pressed the needle into Mason’s arm. “I know it’s either here, or you have it.” His eyes were evil, and I knew if I didn’t do anything, Mason would die.
I didn’t have a weapon. Mason’s life was in my hands. “You have three seconds. One—”
“Stop!” I screamed. “It’s at the other house.”