The Man Next Door: Orchard Heights Book 2 - standalone

by Roya Carmen

  I told them all about Kyra and Kelly, as much as I knew. When officer Sterling asked if there were any boys in Izzie’s life, I almost laughed. There were always boys in her life. She liked it that way.

  “We might need to contact you again, Abby,” Officer Bryant told me. “If we have further questions.”

  “That’s okay.”

  We said out goodbyes, and they thanked me more than once. My pulse was still racing as I walked to the bus stop to catch the next bus. I was going to be late, but I’d definitely have a story to tell.

  31

  As soon as Mischa leaves, I head to Noah’s. It’s one o’clock in the afternoon and I haven’t even changed into my day clothes. Messy bun, bare face, and last night’s mascara under my eyes. I don’t care. I desperately need to talk to him.

  He answers on the second knock. He looks as ruffled as I do, wearing nothing but sweat pants and a white tee. I glance at his bare feet. Even his toes are beautiful. Every inch of him is delicious.

  He bites his bottom lip. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” I reply shyly. All Mischa’s words fly right out the window. I don’t care what his intentions are, what his story is, as long as I get to be with him, taste his mouth, feel his skin on mine.

  Who cares if he’s after my money. What little of it there is. I’m willing to share.

  “Thank you for the flowers,” I say. “They’re beautiful.”

  He smiles. “I’m glad you like them. I was a total jerk. I should have given you a bigger bouquet, but the big one was really expensive.”

  I laugh. “No, it was perfect. A bigger one would have overwhelmed the kitchen.”

  He grins and wraps an arm around my waist. “Yeah… that’s exactly what I was thinking.” He pulls me in, and closes the door behind us.

  I press myself closer against him, wanting more. I don’t just want to look, I want to touch and taste him. He dips his head and kisses me.

  I melt into him and forget everything else.

  The next two weeks were a whirlwind of fear, confusion and gossip. For the first time in my life, I didn’t quite feel safe in my own home. There was a monster amongst us, and no one knew who he was. Izzie hadn’t been found yet, but we all knew, deep inside, that she was gone. I hesitated to go out after dark, and when I did, I was as fast as I could be, whether on foot or on my bike. I sprinted home, and all the while my heart hammered as I whispered Hail Marys. I was thankful to have my two brothers and dad with me. They made me feel secure.

  Izzie’s disappearance was all anyone could talk about. My brain was fuzzy with it. I was hopeless at work. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. What had happened to her? A small part of me always knew that something tragic would happen to her. She was wild and fearless. She thought nothing could hurt her. She never knew that she was as vulnerable as the rest of us.

  Gossip swirled around the park. There was talk about Roger Allen, who was a recent prison release. He’d been charged with sexual assault. He was a creepy guy. His smile always threw me off. When he’d grin at me on the city bus, I’d jerk my head away, and always made sure to exit the bus after him.

  There was also talk about Dennis Thibeault who was on parole for some break-in.

  And worst of all, there was gossip about Gavin. He was an easy target because he had a history. He had supposedly killed a girl. Vehicular homicide. And there was also that horrible fight Izzie and I had had on the bus, witnessed by many, when she’d insinuated having a sexual relationship with him.

  I was nestled in Gavin’s arms when I asked him, “You had nothing to do with Simon Cook’s little sister’s death, did you?” I really didn’t want to be talking about all this, but I needed to get to the bottom of things. Once and for all.

  He shifted. “Uh… no. Rumors around this park…”

  “I know.”

  “I did kill a girl though,” he said so softly, I almost didn’t hear him.

  I jerked around. “What?”

  His gaze was dark and sad. “I did… it was an accident.”

  Oh, God.

  “Tell me…” I wanted to know. I wanted to know everything.

  “It was about six years ago. I was a young kid, coming back from a buddy’s party.”

  I listened intently, not saying a word.

  “It was about one in the morning,” he went on. “Pitch dark. I used to live by the John Deere dealership, the one in the middle of nowhere. My dad had a small house there… still does.”

  “Were you drunk?” I blurted out. I didn’t want to believe that about him.

  “That’s the thing… I wasn’t. I’d had two beers or maybe three, lots of food.”

  “Three beers is a lot,” I pointed out. Three beers would have definitely done me in.

  “I’m a big guy… it’s not that much, in the span of six hours or so. I passed the breathalyzer.”

  “That’s good, I guess.” I wasn’t sure I was liking what I was hearing. He wasn’t taking responsibility for this girl’s death.

  “She just ran out of nowhere, across the street. I slammed on the breaks, but the roads were icy, and I skidded and crashed right into her. I’d only been going about five miles above the speed limit or so.”

  I nodded quietly.

  “There isn’t a single day when I don’t think about this girl… this angel,” he forged on, the edges of his words cracked. Gavin had such a lovely voice, low and masculine and steady. That morning however, he didn’t sound like himself at all. He was a lost boy, afraid, on the verge of tears.

  “She was a ghost, skidding across the road. She was wearing a white winter jacket and hat,” he went on. “Her hair was so long and light, it was angelic. Her eyes fixed mine, wide and full of shock… I was the last person she ever saw. To take one’s life is something a person should never have to live with… it’s… inexplicable.”

  I desperately wanted to say something to comfort him, but I was at a complete loss for words.

  “Turns out she’d been running away from her older brother,” he continued. “She had threatened to run away from home when her dad had driven her best friend back home early from a sleepover. Apparently, the girls had misbehaved. I learned all this later in the investigation. I was investigated thoroughly and eventually cleared.”

  “How old was she?”

  “She was twelve. Her name was Samantha.”

  My heart ached. For both him and her. And for her brother, who played a key part in her death, and for her father who also did. And for her mother.

  “That was Simon’s little sister’s name… Samantha,” I pointed out.

  He nodded softly. “Yeah… I guess that’s where the confusion comes from. Simon’s little sister died in a car wreck. She was sitting comfortably in her parents’ car. I was nowhere around.”

  “I’m sorry.” I kissed him softly on the cheek. “I’m sorry you have to carry that with you every day.”

  He took my hand. “We all have skeletons in our closets, don’t we?”

  I wondered about my own skeletons? Did I have any? I’d told my mother I hated her the day she died. I’d told her, “You’re the worst Mommy in the world.” And it hadn’t been the first time I’d said that either. Would she had gotten plastered out of her mind and jumped off a cliff if I hadn’t uttered those words? That’s something I’ll never know, and something I live with every day.

  I wondered about Izzie. I knew she had a skeleton or two hiding in her closet. They were probably smirking, stylishly dressed, a little too happy with themselves. They were frisky and playful, but could they have been dangerous as well? Where had her skeletons led her?

  I desperately wanted to know.

  I wake up in Noah’s arms. I glance at the clock on his bedside table: 2:56 PM. I smile at the sight of him sleeping soundly next to me. Another sex nap.

  I love sex naps. Daniel was never a big napper, but Noah loves his sex naps. Sex just wears him completely out. I suppose he makes a greater effort than Daniel ever did. Gavi
n used to also nap after sex.

  I check my phone and browse Facebook as I patiently wait for him to wake up. I get itchy to see that playful grin and those baby blues staring back at me, and to hear that beautiful soft spoken voice of his. I play with a lock of his hair and trace circles on his shoulder. He stirs and moans, and I keep teasing him.

  This goes on for a good five minutes when he finally tosses and turns and wakes up.

  I kiss his cheek. “Someone’s being pretty lazy.”

  A slow smile traces his lips. “What can I say… you wear me out, girl.”

  I laugh. “Are you hungry?”

  He leans up on his elbows. “Starving.”

  “I was thinking about making a plate of cheese and crackers. And some grapes.”

  He reaches for his phone. “Sounds great.”

  I wonder what he’s eager to see. Could he be expecting a message from another woman? Perhaps that’s the problem. Maybe he’s secretly married. I shake my head. I’m driving myself mad.

  As I slice some marble cheese, I decide to knock it off. Just talk to him, Mischa had suggested, and I think it’s excellent advice. As much as I don’t want to pry, I need to. I’m going insane imagining the worst. One minute he’s a drug dealer. The next he’s married. The next he’s a gold digger, hacking into my bank accounts.

  He’s all smiles when I walk back in the bedroom with a platter of goodies, wearing nothing but his t-shirt and my lace panties.

  He throws his cell at the end of the bed, and helps himself to a grape. We chat about work and my friends. I tell him all about the goings-on of Mischa’s life, and he seems amused. We never talk about his buddies, or his family for that matter. Why doesn’t he have friends? Why haven’t I met his family yet? I inhale a deep breath, reminding myself to be sane.

  “So when am I going to meet your friends?” I ask between bites.

  He stiffens. “Uh… I don’t really have a lot of friends. They’re all in… Nashville… or on the other side of Chicago.”

  I’m definitely not satisfied with his answer. “What about your family?”

  He throws a half-eaten slice of cheese back on the plate. “I told you… I’m not close to my family. I haven’t met yours either,” he points out.

  “Well, I told you all about my family,” I scoff, annoyed as hell. “Both my parents are dead, and my brothers are dipshits I never got along with.”

  “Sorry,” he says quietly.

  I have so many questions. I know he hates them, but I need to ask them. If I don’t, I may very well go insane. “What made you decide to move here… to Wicker Park?” I ask tentatively. “To Orchard Heights?”

  He studies me for a long beat. He doesn’t say a thing for the longest time. He sits up against the headboard and finally manages, “I saw an ad in the paper. My lease was almost up, and I wanted a change. I’d just broken up with my girlfriend and… I figured I’d try something new. And Wicker Park is the coolest neighborhood around,” he adds with his trademark grin. “Being a musician, I thought I’d fit in.”

  I smile. “You do.”

  He throws his arms up. “And look at this place,” he says. “Orchard Heights is killer.”

  I laugh. “It’s sure a long way from home for me,” I add. I glance at the bright space, high coffered ceilings, beautiful architecture and luxurious furniture and bedding. It’s certainly a far cry from the dingy mobile home I grew up in.

  I don’t know what possesses me to utter my next words, but they certainly surprise the both of us. “I don’t know you.”

  He jerks around to face me. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know you, Noah,” I repeat.

  “What? You know me. You know what I do for a living. Where I went to school. You know what I like to eat…”

  “Yeah, but what about your family… your friends?”

  He exhales a long audible breath and throws a cushion at the wall.”Why do you care so much, Abby?”

  “I don’t trust you,” I finally confess.

  His jaw drops momentarily, and he quickly regains his composure. He doesn’t seem angry, just incredibly hurt. Somehow he expected this. He turns from me, and slips on his boxers. “I care about you, Abby… so much.”

  I know.

  “But maybe it’s better if we take a break. I’m no good for you.”

  My breath hitches. This isn’t what I want. Not at all.

  He turns to me. “You’re doing so well. You have a job you love and great friends.” He glances up at the ceiling. “And this place.”

  What is he saying? What is he trying to tell me? Is it over?

  His beautiful blue eyes fix me, and there’s so much pain in them. “I just wanted to know that you’re all right. And you are.”

  I’m at a complete loss for words.

  His long fingers wrap around my chin. “You’re the most beautiful and sweet woman I’ve ever known,” he says. “You’ll find someone perfect for you. I just know it.”

  My heart drops in my stomach. He’s breaking up with me. He’s busy getting dressed, and all the while, I’m frozen in his bed. I pushed him away. I got too clingy. Too nosy. Men hate that. I ruined it.

  My chest aches. My heart is stuck in my throat, robbing me of words. This isn’t real yet. I know he wants me out. I don’t want this to be awkward. I jump out of bed, and scurry to put on my pajama pants, t-shirt and slippers. I grab my phone and keys.

  He reaches for my hand, but I pull it away. “Don’t leave so fast,” he pleads. “We can talk.”

  “No, you’ve said all there is to say,” I scoff. “I’m sorry I got so clingy.”

  He nips at my heels as I rush away. “You’re not clingy. I just… It’s complicated, Abby. I can’t…” his words trail off.

  I jerk around. “What’s so complicated, Noah?! Tell me.”

  He’s speechless.

  “Exactly,” I snap. “You can’t tell me, can you?”

  And with those words, I storm out of his loft. I don’t cry until I reach my door. But as soon as I close it behind me, I fall to pieces.

  32

  They say we remember the highs and lows of life. It’s very true. Who doesn’t remember their wedding day, a great vacation, their child’s birth?

  And who could ever forget a friend’s death?

  I remember everything about August 7th of that summer. The sky was blue and the air warm. I was high on life, madly in love. Life was almost perfect, save for the constant worry about Izzie, the sour taste it left in my mouth.

  I was at the convenience store when I found out. I was buying a Kit Kat bar, a can of Coke and jujubes for Gavin. They were his favorite. I didn’t indulge too often in candy, but once in a while, I’d get a craving.

  Karla and Kelly walked in, wearing matching cut-off jean shorts. Kelly wore a loose t-shirt with an image of a colorful owl. Karla had a skin tight pink tank top on, her breasts on display as usual.

  “Hey, Abby,” Kelly thrilled. “What’s up?”

  Wow, they’re talking to me… weird, I remember thinking.

  “Not much,” I replied. “Just getting my junk food fix.”

  Kelly’s eyes grew wide. “Did you hear?”

  “Hear what?” I asked, curious.

  “You didn’t hear?”

  Whatever it was, it seemed like something very exciting, as far as Kelly’s expression went. Karla’s was more somber. I was confused, eager to be in the know.

  “No… I didn’t hear. What?!”

  Kelly’s mouth turned downwards. “Some kids found Izzie,” she whispered and following a long pause, she added, “She was dead in the woods.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. I stood frozen for what seemed like an eternity. I felt sick at the thought of Izzie’s bloody body in the woods. I was clammy and desperately needed to sit but there were no chairs nearby. I dropped my candy on the frozen treats freezer, pressed the palm of my hand flat against it, and let the cool sensation numb me. Who could have done this
? My gaze darted around the store, scanned over the racks of potato chips. Doritos were Izzie’s favorite. My eyes jumped to the chocolate bars. Oh Henry! was what she would always get, while I was more of a Kit Kat fan. I’d always break off a stick of my bar for her, and she’d always give me a bite of hers. I stared at my stash of candy, not believing that we would never share treats again. Izzie would never eat again. She would never do anything again. She was just… gone.

  I was brought back to the day I found out my mother was gone. All those old emotions and sensations were back; nausea, an eerie chill, confusion and fear. And most of all, anger. I’d been angry at my mother for doing what she had done, for leaving me. I’d also been angry at my father because, even at the tender age of nine, I knew he’d driven her to drinking. But most of all, I was angry at myself. Now, I didn’t know who to be angry with. Up until then, I had held on to the hope that she had just run away. Izzie was often impulsive that way. But with every day that passed, I became more and more concerned. I should have been prepared for this news. I should have known. Yet, it hit me like a wrecking ball.

  Karla pressed a hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay, Abby?” she asked. “I know you and her used to be good friends.”

  “Used to…” Kelly chimed in. “They weren’t friends anymore,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Remember the fight they had on the bus?” Her words were accompanied by a dubious stare. She was implying something, but I didn’t catch on at the time, too wrapped up in shock, sorrow and confusion.

  A million questions were whirling around in my head, but I couldn’t utter a single word. I was dizzy with shock as they both stared at me. I couldn’t even breathe properly. Images of Izzie’s dead body flashed in my mind, and all the while I gripped the edge of the freezer. Who could have attacked her? I thought of Roger Allen. He had a prior history and always creeped the both of us out. I thought of all the boys she teased, all the boyfriends she had. I even considered Simon, whom I knew had a serious crush on her.