Watching Over Me: A Dreams Novel

by Kamery Solomon

  I can help.

  Chapter Four

  Heart caught in my throat, its pounding rang in my ears as I stared at the note. It felt like my mouth was full of cotton, the pain in my ankle mostly forgotten.

  “Hello?” I called again, barely in a whisper. Who would leave me this note? In secret? Why not come to me and offer help like a regular person? The hair on my arms prickled and I finally tore my eyes from the sheet, quickly scanning the area again. Whoever it had been was gone, still running from the building for all I knew. The brief glimpse I’d caught of them in the mirror hadn’t given me any hints either.

  Jittery, as if I’d seen a ghost, I gathered my things, not even bothering to take my pointe shoes off before I left the building, only stopping momentarily to make sure the door was locked behind me.

  It was a short walk across the street to the dorm building, but it felt like miles on my sore ankle. With the added fear of being watched by someone, I did my best to hurry into the structure, continually looking over my shoulder for my mystery note leaver. As I passed through the entrance, I released a sigh of relief, happy to be inside somewhere and not exposed out in the open.

  “Hey, Scarlet.”

  Jumping, I looked across the room, finding Matt, the building’s night supervisor. He was usually playing video games or something every time I’d seen him, but tonight he was holding out a small box, waving me over to take it from him.

  “This was dropped off for you earlier. Burning the oil kinda late, don’t you think?”

  “I was in a practice room,” I said, hobbling across the lobby and taking the package from him. “Do you know who it’s from?”

  “Not a clue,” he said, sitting back down and turning his computer screen on.

  “Oh. Well, thanks anyway.”

  “Have a good night,” he said absentmindedly as I turned and headed for the stairs.

  Hobbling up to my floor, I examined the outside of the package. It only had my name on it, nothing else. I’d never been so perplexed by a plain, brown, taped up box.

  I limped down the hall, relieved to collapse on my bed in exhaustion, while trying to stay quiet enough to not wake Meg up. I considered rousing her to tell her about the note, but she’d been at her showcase rehearsal tonight and was probably wiped out.

  Glancing at where I’d left the container on the desk, I sighed. What were the odds I would get a secretive note and a mysterious box in the same day? Not even that, within the same ten minutes? My gut told me they were related. Suddenly, I had a vision of opening the case and finding a finger or something, like I was in a mob movie.

  Reaching out, I pulled the packet off the table and onto the bed. It wasn’t heavy, which only served to increase my anxiety that it could be a finger, but I highly doubted there were any body parts inside. Opening the strange package, fear struck through me as my eyes laid on what lay at the very top—a piece of paper with a hand drawn rose on it. Gingerly, I picked it up and turned it over, not sure what I would find on the other side.

  Meet me in the practice room tomorrow night. Ten o’ clock. Come alone and bring your dance attire. Use the contents of this box on your injured ankle.

  Surprised, I looked into the container again and saw a wrap, salve, and pain medicine. It was all of nice quality, much better than my little ice pack and heating pad. Once I was satisfied that there was nothing left to discover, I returned to the note.

  There was no signature of any kind, just the drawing on the back, which I found extremely frustrating. And also a little terrifying.

  Had I discovered a stalker? Was this person someone I knew? Should I call the cops?

  On the other hand, whoever it was had given me the things I needed to take care of my ankle. They were offering to help me with something I really needed guidance in.

  What was I thinking?! I couldn’t meet up with a complete stranger! It could be a crazy serial killer or someone who wanted to sell me into a sex slavery ring, or something! Okay, that may have slightly been overkill, but a girl could never be too careful in the Big Apple. I needed to find out who had sent this to me as soon as possible.

  Quietly, I set everything to the side and slipped back out into the hall, determined to get a better answer out of Matt. When I reached his desk, he was doing the usual, which involved killing some type of mythical creature on his computer.

  “Hey, Matt?” I asked, interrupting him. “What did the person who dropped that box off look like?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, obviously unwilling to glance away from his battle. “I wasn’t here. It was dropped off during shift change.”

  “Did anyone see who left it?”

  He shrugged, concentrating on whatever was making war sounds on the screen in front of him. “Why? Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, fine.” My tone was easy, but I was still feeling pretty shaken now that I knew someone was watching me. “I was only curious because there isn’t a name on the box.”

  “Sorry.” He didn’t sound very sorry.

  Not bothering to ask him anything further, since he was clearly busy, I turned and walked back to the stairwell, disappointed I hadn’t been able to learn more. Once back in my room, I examined the contents of the box again, as if they would give me some clue as to who had left it. My ankle was really beat up, but using the medicine made me feel like I was agreeing to go to the meeting already.

  If I went, I could find out who it was. I could ask them why they were following me and being so secretive about helping me out. Everything in my body screamed stranger danger, though. What if I ended up as one of those missing girls on the news? Would they find my body in a landfill somewhere, having no idea what happened to me? Would I eventually become the inspiration for an episode of Bones?

  Sighing, I ran my hands over my face and into my hair. My ankle prickled uncomfortably, obviously in need of what was now laying all over the bed.

  The curtains were closed, door shut and locked. There was no way they would know if I used everything now.

  Gingerly, I slid my pointe shoes off and got out of my practice clothes. After a quick shower—well, as quick as I could manage—I located my favorite pajamas, a pair of short shorts and a tank top. I’d left them on the desk chair the night before, so I put them on. Then I tended to my ankle.

  It wasn’t as swollen as I’d first thought, which was good. No one would even notice in the morning unless they were looking close enough. Smelling the scent of the salve as I opened the can and scooped some out, I lathered the minty, cool goop all over the affected area. There were two different kind of wraps to cover it with, so I used both in the hopes that the balm wouldn’t leak through and get all over my sheets. Once I was satisfied I’d taken care of it properly, I popped two of the pain pills in my mouth and washed them down with a swig from my water bottle. The relief from it all was practically instant. I felt almost brand new when the medicine kicked in twenty minutes later.

  Morning arrived before I knew it, and I felt more rested than I had since my injury. Even better, the swelling had gone down and I felt like I might actually be able to dance properly. I wasn’t sure how long the effects would last, though, so I decided to be safe and keep everything wrapped throughout the day.

  As I walked to my first class, I found myself looking at everyone around me. Was it one of them? Did I see them every day, talk to them, work with them? Was it a boy or a girl? My mysterious helper could be anyone in the whole company, if not the whole city. How would I ever be able to thank them for their help?

  I knew how they wanted me to thank them—by showing up at the meeting tonight. That in itself had me trying to pinpoint who they were. The department didn’t give out keys to that building to whoever wanted them. Usually it was only the janitors and teachers that had them. They’d also been known to give keys to those wanting to practice for auditions, but I didn’t think there was really anyone who was doing that late at night.

  The day flew by like always, aided by
the inner turmoil in my head. I really wanted to know who this person was, but I didn’t know if I felt comfortable enough to go and meet them by myself. Maybe if I brought some form of protection with me, just in case?

  Throughout the day I switched from each side of the question, unable to decide what to do. When I met Meg for lunch I decided I needed a little insight.

  “Wait . . . You don’t know who it is at all?” she asked, spearing a lettuce leaf with her fork.

  “No,” I said uncomfortably. “That’s why I don’t know if I should go or not. I mean, that could be dangerous, right?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied, looking thoughtfully into the distance. “On the one hand, the stuff they gave you for your ankle really worked. Why would they help you if their intent was to hurt you? That doesn’t make sense.” She shrugged. “Maybe they really do only want to help.”

  “But why wouldn’t they just come out and offer if that were the case? Why all the secrecy and clandestine meetings?”

  “That’s a good point, too,” she acknowledged.

  Silence fell between us as we both continued to eat our salads.

  “What would you do?” I finally asked.

  Staring at me for a moment, she suddenly turned to her purse, rifling through it until she found what she was looking for.

  “I would go,” she said, handing me the key ring pepper spray she always carried. “There’s only one way to find out who it is, and that’s it. Besides, you can do that thing you do.”

  “That thing I do?” I questioned, confused.

  “You know, how you can tell if a person is good or not when you see them. Your sixth sense.”

  “I don’t do that.” I laughed.

  “Sure you do. Remember that Chris guy who asked me out? And you said not to go because he gave you a creepy feeling? But I went anyway and he was a jerk.”

  “That doesn’t give me a sixth sense,” I argued. “That means he gave me a weird feeling.”

  “So go and see if this person gives you that same feeling.” She shrugged, taking a bite and smiling at me.

  “You really would go?” Taking the bottle from her, I put it in my own bag, my heart racing in my chest nervously.

  “I would,” she replied, nodding. “And I’ll be waiting by the phone if you need any help. In fact, I can go and wait outside so I’m closer if you want.”

  “I think that would make me feel a lot better,” I admitted, letting a sigh of relief escape. “Thank you.”

  “What are friends for?” She grinned at me, the love of a best friend in her eyes.

  The rest of the day flew by even faster after that. All I could think of was my meeting later that night. It was a good thing ballet wasn’t in depth that afternoon, because I would have been royally messing everything up.

  An hour before we were supposed to meet, I stood in my room, packing my things into my dance duffle bag. My ankle was still wrapped for good measure, so I had forgone the tights when I dressed in my regular practice clothes. The shoe I’d broken the night before had unfortunately been part of the only pair of pointe shoes I had. Making a mental note to pick up a new pair the next morning, I packed my regular, non-pointe slippers into the satchel as well.

  “Do you need your tap and jazz stuff, too?” Meg asked, watching me from her bed.

  “I don’t know,” I replied, surprised by her question. “It sounded like it was an invitation for ballet help only.”

  “I was just curious. This is kind of exciting! I feel like I should be terrified, but all I can think is that it sounds like a romantic movie or something.”

  “Or a horror movie.” I laughed nervously, images of fingers in boxes flashing before my eyes. “One where I think I’m going to meet a nice guy and he turns out to be the Devil, or something like that.”

  “I’ll be right down the road,” she stated comfortingly. “I’d wait right outside the door, but I don’t want them to think you called the cops or something.”

  “Maybe I should have,” I confessed, releasing the thought that had been in my head for the better part of the day. “I could be getting into something really bad.”

  “You don’t have to go if you don’t want,” she said suddenly, obviously a little nervous as well. “I mean, I’ll be there to help however I can if you need it, but if you really don’t want to . . .”

  “No,” I said, sighing. “I want to know who it is. I’ll be okay. I only have to remember that. And to run really fast if it’s not true.”

  “Do you want to go now? Get used to the room so you’re not completely thrown off by everything? I know you’ve spent a lot of time there, but this is different.” She checked the time on her phone. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” I said, nodding and picking my bag up. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Five

  “Be safe,” Meg whispered as she walked away, leaving me at the entrance to the practice space.

  The inside looked dark and empty, with no lights on that I could see. But when I tried the door, it opened with ease, swinging in to the blackness in silence.

  Crossing the threshold, I wiped my sweaty palms on the fabric of my shorts after closing the door. Not knowing where the light switch for the hall was, I dragged my fingers down the smooth wall, looking for the opening to the room I was used to working in. When I finally found it, a sigh of relief escaped me and I reached in to flip on the lights.

  “Don’t touch the switch.”

  The low, husky voice was coming from inside the room, which made me jump out of my skin and almost scream for help. Shit. My stranger was early—and most definitely a man.

  “W—why not?” I asked in a shaky voice.

  “Just leave the lights off,” the voice commanded again.

  Inching into the room, I pressed my back against the wall right next to the door as I fumbled around my bag, trying to find the pocket I’d put the pepper spray and my phone in. As my eyes adjusted better, I could only make out the windows where blinds had been pulled, blocking out the light from outside and cocooning us in obscurity.

  “Who are you?” I asked nervously, trying to see any shadows.

  No answer.

  “Do I know you?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” the voice said from directly in front of me, warm breath washing over my neck.

  I sucked in a petrified breath, freezing every muscle in my body as the voice inside my head screamed for me to run now.

  “Relax,” he commanded. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  I felt a hand touch my knee and jerked away, only to have my leg grabbed again. A scream lodged in my throat, coming out like a weird gasping sound as visions of my skeleton being picked over by crows in a landfill filled my mind.

  Would anyone ever know what happened to me? Would they even find me? Oh no—what if he took Meg, too, when he found her waiting outside? Why did I ask her to come? Why hadn’t I seen how dangerous that was for her?

  Whimpering again, I swallowed hard, determined to call for help before anything could happen. A huge breath filled my lungs as I struggled against him, my heart racing.

  “Don’t,” the voice ordered sternly, a hand covering my mouth quickly as he released my calf and straightened. “I’m trying to look at your ankle.”

  “Oh,” I said, surprised again for some reason. The sound was muffled against his flesh, which felt very smooth against my skin. Unsure if he was really telling the truth or not, I stilled slightly, relaxing as the pressure on my mouth lessened. He’d given me the things to take care of the injury, hadn’t he? Of course he would want to know if it had helped.

  “Why don’t you sit down?” he suggested, pulling me to the floor. A moment of panic washed over me again, but he didn’t force me to lay down.

  A very clear thought flashed through my mind as I stared into the darkness; if anything went wrong, I was going to kick him right in the nuts and slap the crap out of him before I got the hell out of Dodge. There was no way I’d be a vi
ctim of rape, not if I had anything to say about it.

  My skin prickled as his hands swept down my leg, looking for the start of the wrap. His touch was soft but sure, holding a warmth that made my stomach flutter. The feeling caught me off guard and I shook it off, scared at the trust I’d felt. Who was this guy?

  Finding the edge of the wrap, he began unwinding the cloth, his fingers in close contact to my skin at all times. The burning sensation grew the longer he touched me, making me even more uncomfortable. It wasn’t attraction or comfort I was feeling, despite his heat. My body ached to run from the room to safety, to somewhere where I couldn’t feel him on me.

  Sitting silently, in a nervous panic the entire time he examined me, I tried to see his face in the dark. While it was relieving to have not been kidnapped or eaten by a cannibal, it was a little unnerving to try and think of who this man could be.

  The truth was, I had no idea who he was. His voice was not even remotely recognizable to me, and he was talking in a way that suggested he was trying to disguise how his voice really sounded. I couldn’t see him at all, so that option of recognition was completely out. I could just reach up and turn the lights on, but I was afraid of what he would do if I did. His smell was intoxicating, though. Every breath I took was flooded with a warm musk that made my insides turn pleasantly.

  Great. I guess I could smell every man I came across from now on.

  Why was I sitting here thinking about how nice he smelled and how he touched my leg? Was I insane? I needed to get out of here!

  “You were injured worse than I thought,” he mused, feeling around the bones with his fingertips, oblivious to my inner struggles. “We won’t be able to dance tonight like I’d hoped.”

  His skin brushed against mine in a soft pattern, stroking all the way up my calf and down my foot, gently massaging. It was a touch that said he knew what he was doing, that he knew how much I was hurting when I hadn’t told anyone the truth of it. His presence had a calming effect, despite his strangeness, and I suddenly believed that he didn’t want to do anything other than help me.