Nothing left to hide.
"You have a stash up there?" I widen my eyes.
"Shit," he says, shaking his head and smiling. I laugh. "Yes," he says. "I've got like three hundred up there."
"Three hundred? What, are you expecting to be caught in an apocalyptic attack or something?"
"Like Snickers bars would help me in an apocolypse. Get your facts straight, Katherine."
I smack his arm and he winces slightly, laughing.
"Watch it, Katherine," he says.
"Asshole," I say, sitting up and crossing my arms over my chest.
"So you don't like being called 'Kate,' and you don't like 'Katherine' either. What the hell am I supposed to call you?"
"Katie!"
"Not if we're going to be friends, I'm not."
I pelt him with a pillow and roll my eyes. "If that's how it's going to be, I don't want to be friends."
"Oh, there's no going back now. You know where I keep my Snickers."
I laugh again and lean back on his arm. I have no idea why I keep leaning on him like this, but neither of us seem to object to it.
The television is still playing an episode of Family Guy, which we both turn our attentions to.
Dylan leans back into the couch and I curl up next to him. A comfortable silence descends upon us as we watch the late night rerun, occasionally laughing or commenting on the program.
I fight to keep my eyes open, but fail as I rest them shut. I lean my head on Dylan's shoulder, breathing in his scent and truly relaxing for the first time in days. I fall asleep shortly, the sounds of the TV muffling around me. I've never fallen asleep next to James.
Guilt consumes my dreams as James wiggles his way back into my thoughts. Why should I be guilty? Dylan and I are only friends.
I wake up in the middle of the night, still leaning on Dylan. I can tell he's asleep, too, from his slow, steady breathing. His arm has moved so that it's loosely around my waist, and his head leans toward me, our foreheads lightly touching. His body is warm next to mine.
I smile a bit in my sleepy state, knowing that if I was Regular Katie, I would shove him off of me and storm back to my apartment.
But Regular Katie is slowly dying and fading. I don't think I object much to that.
I cuddle back up closer to Dylan and shut my eyes again. He stirs a bit, sighing in his sleep and wrapping his arm tighter around me. I fall back asleep with traces of emerald eyes and the smell of spearmint in my mind.
Chapter Thirty One
When I wake in the morning, I'm laying lengthwise on the couch, wrapped snugly in a blanket. The events of the night before flood back to my memory; how Dylan and I decided to be friends and we both fell asleep on the couch. He must have moved me when he woke.
I hear a hushed voice speaking around me.
"Yes, I got the goddamn note," Dylan is saying. He must be on the phone. There's a pause. "Look, she has nothing to do with anything at all, so leave her alone." My heart rate accelerates.
"She's not part of this! What do I have to do for you to leave her be?"
A pause.
"I haven't told her shit, why can't you just listen to me?" His voice raises slightly.
He sighs. "Fuck," he curses under his breath.
There's a short pause. "Alright, I'll be there by three."
I assume he hangs up, because a string of curses emits from him.
What note? What is he going to do today at three?
I yearn to find out, but I know I risk losing our newly found friendship if I snoop.
I stay with my thoughts for a while longer before falling back asleep.
After what seems like minutes later, the smell of eggs and bacon engulfs my senses and I sit up slowly, squinting at the time on the DVR.
10:42 am.
"Ah, you're up." Dylan smiles at me from the kitchen where he fries sizzling strips of bacon on a pan. He wears a denim button down shirt with the top button undone and his usual dark jeans. Multiple necklaces hang around his neck his cheeks are flushed a healthy pink.
"About time, too," he says, placing some bacon on a plate next to the stove. "I though you'd gone into hibernation."
This nice side of Dylan is one that I'm unaccustomed to, and it takes me a moment to respond. "You could have woken me," I say, standing from the couch. I look down at myself and realize I'm still wearing my jeans and cardigan from yesterday. I sigh.
"I went over and brought you some fresh clothes," Dylan says, nodding past me at the coffee table. "Thought you'd want to change."
I look down at the coffee table and sure enough, fresh jeans and a top are neatly folded. I pick them up, smiling a bit.
"Thanks," I say, stifling a laugh. Dylan went into my apartment to get me fresh clothes? Who is this person and what have they done with Dylan?
Dylan raises an eyebrow at me. "Something funny?"
"No," I say, shaking my head. "I'll just go change."
I lock myself in the bathroom and stare at my reflection.
I quickly change into the jeans and baby blue long sleeved shirt. I let my hair fall in its natural waves and exit the bathroom.
I remember the phone call I overheard early this morning.
I can't let him know I heard.
"So," I say as Dylan hands me a plate of breakfast. "What are you doing today?"
Dylan shrugs. "Not a lot," he says. "What about you?"
"I need to go grocery shopping," I tell him. Well, it is true. I'm pretty out of food, and I'll need it for the week.
"Sounds like a blast," Dylan says, picking up his phone and scrolling through it.
I nod and continue eating. I want so badly to know where he's going this afternoon. It feels like it's eating me alive.
I help Dylan clean my dishes when I'm done. He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms loosely over his chest.
"Thanks for letting me stay here," I say quietly.
He nods. "I am kind of the reason why all of that happened..." The corners of his mouth turn down.
"No, you're not," I say. "Don't blame yourself."
Dylan doesn't say anything as I walk to the door, my clothes from yesterday folded in my arms.
"I guess I'll see you at work, then," I say to Dylan.
He nods again and shoots me a half smile. I unlock my apartment and let myself in, gasping when I see the place.
Everything is neatly back in its place. The pillows are arranged perfectly on the couch, and the dishes are back in the cabinets. I walk into my bedroom. The bed is made and the pictures are all back on my table. The photo of James and I has a crack straight down the center, though, dividing it in half. I frown. I'll have to get a new frame for that.
I put my things down and walk back into the living room. Dylan must have done this when he came to get me fresh clothes. My eye catches on a piece of paper on the kitchen counter.
Katie--
Sorry about the mess the other day. Thought you'd want some help cleaning up.
--Dylan
The gesture is so nice I barely notice that he calls me 'Katie.' I fold the note and put it in the pocket of my jeans.
I gather my things back up and exit my apartment, making sure to lock the door behind me. I get into my car and drive to the store, thinking of how I fell asleep next to Dylan last night.
Would James be upset? I mean, it's not like anything happened. I just fell asleep, and so did he. No big deal, right?
Yeah, but you've kissed Dylan, my mind sneers. He kissed you, and you kissed him back.
I swallow. Should I tell James? Would he get mad and break up with me?
I decide against it for the time being. With all the drama involving my apartment, I don't want to deal with an angry James right now.
I park my car at the Safeway and walk into the store, pulling up my shopping list on my phone. I walk through the isles, pulling different foods from the shelves and putting them in my cart.
I'm deciding on what flavor to ge
t of ice cream when I hear my name.
"Katie!"
I turn and meet the warm brown eyes of George. He smiles at me.
"Hi," I say, shooting him a smile.
"Fancy seeing you here," he says. "Picking out ice cream, I see."
I smile. "Yeah," I say. "Any suggestions?"
"They're all good to me," he says, shrugs.
I laugh. "I like mint chocolate chip."
"That's a good one."
When I first met George, he had mentioned he was friends with Dylan. Hell, he had been on his way to Dylan's.
"George," I say. "How long have you and Dylan known each other?"
George squints, thinking. "About a year and a half," he says.
"Oh." I pause. "What...um, how does he know Ethan?" Surely George must know Ethan if they were playing poker together that night. And Ethan obviously works with Dylan in whatever it is Dylan does outside of Crane.
George raises an eyebrow at me. "They met through a mutual friend," he says.
"Hmm." I nod. George must think I'm insane for asking these odd questions. "I was just wondering."
"Right." George smiles again. "Well, I've got to run. See you around, Katie."
"Bye." I smile back at him as he turns and walks away. I notice he didn't buy anything.
I check the time. It's two o'clock. Whatever it is that Dylan has to do is in an hour.
I move to check out my items.
Chapter Thirty Two
As I unlock the door to my apartment, Dylan steps out of his. He wears a dark brown leather jacket and holds his phone in his hand, his expression serious.
"Hi," I greet him, setting down my groceries just inside my apartment before turning back to talk to him.
He nods to me absently, still looking at his phone. "Hey."
"Where are you off to?"
He locks his phone and looks at me. "Running some errands."
He's a good liar.
"Sounds fun," I say. I peek at the time on my phone. 2:36. "Thanks for organizing my apartment, by the way," I say. "You didn't have to do that."
"It was no problem," he says, shrugging.
"Well...thanks, anyway."
Dylan's eyes dart around and he chews on his lip. I've never seen him look so anxious.
"So how's accounting going?" I ask.
"Same as always," he replies. "It's math, nothing really changes."
"Right." I nod. "Doesn't it get boring, doing math all the time? I mean, I know I'd get bored."
"I don't know, I like it."
"Yeah, I guess. I've always been better at literature myself--"
"Hmm." Dylan looks at me impatiently.
"Ever since high school, you know? No, scratch that, since middle school--"
"Yeah, listen, Katie, I really have to go--"
"Right, sorry. Have fun!" I internally curse as he nods to me and walks down the hall into the elevator. I check the time. 2:42. Well, I kept him for eight minutes.
I wait another two minutes before hurrying down the stairs to the lobby. I look through a crack in the door of the stairwell and watch as Dylan steps out of the elevator, eyes cast down. He exits the building and I quickly hurry after him.
I expect him to get into his car, but he walks right past the parking lot and out into the street, looking both ways quickly before crossing. I fall back into a crowd of people, keeping an eye on his back.
I know I'm risking so much by following Dylan again, but I consider myself part of whatever it is he does now. I've had two run-ins with these people, and I want to know what the hell they do.
Dylan turns a corner. I follow him down three more blocks until he ducks into a narrow sidestreet.
I watch him from behind a dumpster as he walks up to a grey door in the side of a tall, brick building. He takes a yellow piece of paper out of his pocket and I squint to see what he's doing.
He reaches out to a keypad next to the door and punches in a number. I squint, memorizing the sequence he punches in. I watch carefully as he puts the yellow paper back into his pocket and the door clicks open.
I know I have to act fast.
As soon as the door shuts, I hurry up to the keypad.
I reach out and hit the four numbers I watched Dylan enter.
7-3-9-1.
There's a hiss and the door clicks open. Relief floods through me as I slip inside, the door falling shut behind me.
A long corridor stretches ahead of me. A number of doors line it, but I catch a glimpse of Dylan's dark jacket at the end.
I make my way down the hall, trying to make my steps as soft as possible. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I round the corner and instantly duck behind the nearest wall.
The hallway opens into a large room. A circular table sits in the middle, with chairs all around it. I recognize quite a few people sitting at the table and swallow.
Alec, the scarred man, sits at the head of the table, a mean frown set on his lips. Next to him is William and Ethan, my two attackers that still spook me. Leigh-Anne, the girl from when Dylan took me to play poker, sits next to Ethan. I almost gasp at the others I see.
Oliver sits across from William, picking at his fingernails. He looks bored as he waits for whatever is supposed to happen to commense.
George, the boy I saw not even an hour ago, sits next to Oliver. His face is blank as he stares off into space.
I move into the room, ducking behing multiple tall potted plants in the corner. I can tell that they're fake plants, and they seem oddly out of place here. I have a perfect view of the room from my station behind the foliage.
I peer through the fronds and watch as Dylan takes a seat at the table. His jaw is clenched and he looks down at the table.
"What took you so long?" Alec snaps, breaking the silence.
Dylan's head shoots up. "Traffic," he lies easily.
"Right," Alec says, the jagged scars on his face gleaming in the dim light. "Let's get down to business, shall we?"
Everyone sits up in their seats.
"Roberts, I believe you have information." Alec looks to Oliver.
Oliver sits up a bit. "Nothing was found in the unit," he states. "No evidence, at least. And trust me, we sifted through quite well." He chuckles a bit. Unit...does he mean...?
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