by Sydney Katt
I couldn't make out the other guy's expression in the darkness, but the way he closed the door in a huff screamed that he'd rolled his eyes first.
Ricardo advanced on us. For perhaps the first time in my entire life, I was happy to see the class stoner. "And you two. You've got your hands on the wrong shortie. Back it on off."
"Your girl? Ain't you just come out of a pole smoker bar?"
Ricardo's eyes narrowed dangerously in the dim light and he threw what appeared to be gang signs our way. Or maybe he was asking for directions to the post office in sign language. I really didn't know.
"A little fairy boy crossed the LKs. I took care of business."
LKs? My knowledge of illegal gang activity was severely limited. Latin something. Latin Knights, maybe? They could joust instead of doing drive-bys. That would be fairly awesome.
"LK," Nodder muttered. He turned to Knife Guy. "You hear anything about this being LK territory?"
For the first time, both guys stepped away from me and I started to think that I might live to take the econ test I was one hundred percent going to fail this week.
"Bro, we didn't know."
Whoever the LKs were supposed to be, they must be much scarier than Nodder's crew.
"I'll bet." Ricardo took another menacing step toward us and I briefly wondered whether he was packin' or if he planned to strangle them with his scarf. Based on the intensity glinting in his eyes, I didn't doubt for a second he could take both of these guys down while rolling a primo joint if he wanted to.
Knife Guy put away his knife and started past Ricardo with Nodder at his side. "Look, you need to talk to your girl. She got no business following us around."
Ricardo took another few steps and was close enough to grab me by the arm, yanking me painfully to him. "Oh, we're gonna have some words."
I managed to stay perfectly still and quiet until the gangbangers rounded the corner and I could no longer hear the sound of their bling. Then I let myself breathe.
"You okay, Shakes?"
No sooner than Ricardo released my arm, the enormity of what just happened—what could've happened—slammed into me, turning my knees to mush. I vaguely remember shimmery fluttering black blobs in front of my eyes before everything fell away.
CHAPTER SIX
I was sitting on the ground slumped against the wall in the alley when I next opened my eyes. Nothing seemed to be broken or badly bruised, so I must not've hit the ground too hard when I fell. But my eyes. Colors were flashing in front of them and I couldn't quite seem to get my bearings to stand up with the constant red-blue-red-blue strobing.
Red-blue? That seemed familiar.
The sheriff, Sherlock.
My 9-1-1 call must've gotten through after all.
When I was finally able to force my eyes to focus, Ricardo was a few feet away talking to two uniformed officers. In the time it had taken me to pass out, he must've pulled a Clark Kent and supermanned himself back into his Scooby-Doo persona.
"And you said the two of you were using drugs together?"
"Of course not. Someone must've slipped something into her drink. I could tell she wasn't right, so I left her with the friends she came with while I paid her tab, but... college girls, right? I was only gone a minute or two and no one could tell me where she was when I came back."
That was all wrong. I wasn't in college or at a gay bar with Ricardo.
The officer whose voice I hadn't heard yet interrupted my fuzzy thoughts. "She wouldn't be the first girl to wander out the wrong door of a club, freak out and call 9-1-1." After a pause, he said, "Look, Richie, I can keep your name out of this no problem because of your father, but I'm going to need her name for the report."
"That can't happen. Her parents are in business with mine. If her name hits the papers, my father will make some calls you don't want him to make."
After a lengthy silence—or not, since I was still having trouble keeping my eyes open against the glaring lights—the first officer said, "This is your girl's one pass. In the future, be sure she knows to keep a better eye on her drinks. Get her home before she wanders off again."
"Absolutely. Sorry again about the trouble."
Ricardo waited where he was until after the blue and red lights stopped strobing and the police car left. I thought he would come back over to me, but instead he went straight to the back door he'd come out of originally. He knocked twice in quick succession and then added a third knock a beat later. The door opened right away and the same dark-skinned guy from before walked out into the alley and immediately threw his arms around Ricardo's neck.
"Did you play the big hero, Card? I love it when my man gets all tough."
"Yeah. I tossed around my family name and made the cops go away." He extricated himself from the other guy's embrace. "We should get Sherlock out of here."
"Oh, you and me are going to talk about what you just did later. O-kay? Okay." He snapped in Ricardo's face, smoothed his flowing shirt down around his waist and sauntered in my direction. "And little miss thang over here must be the famous Sherlock."
I rose unsteadily to my feet and dusted the dirt off my butt. "I didn't realize I was famous." Or a Miss Thang.
"Gurl, Kiki knows everything happening in her man's world." He threaded his arm through mine and pulled me toward the street. "Tell me, what is my little Card like when he's playing his playa role?"
"Huh?"
"Don't be shy now. I know you're his favorite target when he's in character. Does he have everyone fooled with his straight man on the prowl act?"
Had I really just heard what I thought I did? "Well... he sure had me fooled."
Kiki dropped my arm and stepped away from me, his finger pressed to his bottom lip. "Oh, Kiki has stepped in it now." He turned to Ricardo. "You know you have got to tell Freaky Kiki when to tone it down."
The look on Ricardo's face was one of pure horror. "Keek..." He shook his head and turned his attention to me. "You want to tell me what the hell you thought you were doing out here? How did you even get here?"
I looked around absently for a moment and then pointed in the general direction of where I assumed the coffee shop was. "I drove, but then I left my keys in the coffee shop and didn't know what to do when those guys started chasing me."
Kiki shook his head at me. "And a dark alley seemed like a safe place because... why?"
"I don't know. You see it in books and movies all the time."
"Girl's all book smarts and no street smarts." Kiki shook his head again and started down the street. "I'll get the keys and the car. Text me her address and I'll meet you there."
"I can drive."
He spun on his heel to face us again. "Kiki isn't convinced you know how to tie your shoes right now, much less drive." He started off again, loudly muttering, "Saw it in the movies. Girl, I saw magic red shoes in a movie once, but you don't see me clicking my heels to get around."
Okay, so in retrospect the whole running for my life down dark streets and alleys thing wasn't my finest moment.
I told you to turn around.
What the hell? Now I was berating myself? Awesome. Maybe this was the moment when I'd develop a super-judgmental split personality.
Ricardo tugged on my arm. "I'm over here."
Other than asking for my address so that he could text it to Kiki, he was silent during the drive back to Devils Reach. I should've thanked him right away for saving me from those guys and dealing with the police, but I was having trouble processing it all. It was like everything I ever thought I knew was all wrong.
"So... Kiki seems nice."
His posture instantly changed and he pulled the car over to the side of the road in a jerky manner before he whipped his head around to face me. "You don't talk about Kiki."
"I just said he seemed nice."
"I don't care." The muscle in his jaw turned to stone. "You don't know Kiki. You don't talk about Kiki. You pretend that Kiki doesn't exist. Got it, Shakes?"
&nbs
p; "Yeah. Got it." I looked at my trembling, fidgeting hands while he maneuvered the car back onto the road. "So, is this like a down low thing?"
Ricardo slammed on the brakes. "I thought you understood we weren't talking about that."
"Okay. Your call. Just seems exhausting to pretend to be someone you're not all the time."
He opened his mouth to snap at me, but closed it before any words came out. After a long sigh, he said, "In my family, choice doesn't exist."
"Oh. Umm... I get that coming out would be hard and all, but your parents would come around. You're gay, not a serial killer."
"They would prefer that. Trust me." He eased the car into motion again. "Look, you can't tell anyone about any of this. My father can't ever find out."
"Yeah. No problem." I looked out the window for a while in silence before adding, "You know, your dad might surprise you. He'd probably even get used to Kiki after a while."
He let out a mirthless laugh. "I can see it now, Kiki hanging out with my father and his associates at the country club."
Maybe another five minutes passed in silence before I turned to glare at his profile in the moonlight. "Why the hell are you always hitting on me if you don't even like girls?"
This time, his laugh was genuine. "Because you're the only girl I'm one hundred percent sure will always say no." He shrugged and changed lanes. "A pointless exercise, I know. But if I want my trust fund, I've got to play the game and keep up the act for a while longer."
"Doesn't seem worth it."
"Only because you haven't seen how many zeroes are in that trust fund."
He had me there. I used to see Ricardo's parents sometimes when Tom would drag me up to the country club to have dinner with his parents, but it never occurred to me to think about trust funds and the expectations that came with them. As far as I was concerned, rich people were all nuts. For all the money Tom's parents had in the bank, they'd forced him to choose a college that would give him an athletic scholarship instead of just paying his tuition to wherever he actually wanted to go.
Huh. Would there have still been a blonde supermodel in his bed if I'd gone to visit him this weekend at the Oklahoma school he wanted to attend? Probably.
Asshole.
Luckily, Ricardo didn't let me dwell on that for long before he was talking again. "You never did tell me why you were getting cozy with those guys in the alley."
"Probably because it's embarrassing."
He parked across the street from my house. "I think I deserve to know why my date was ruined."
"Maybe another time. I should get in before my parents—"
"Bullshit. Everyone knows there's no curfew in the Shakespeare house." He grinned over at me. "Besides, Kiki's not here yet. He may have a quick mouth, but he drives slow enough that you can start at childhood and still have time to tell me everything."
"Fine." I dropped my head back against the headrest in defeat. "I suppose you heard about what happened with Tom this weekend."
"Yeah. Tough break."
"I needed a distraction tonight. I followed some guys on the rival football team to that coffee shop to see if they were the ones who took Champers."
"Champers?"
Finally! I knew I wasn't the only one who didn't know the stupid pig's name before today. "Our mascot. He's missing."
"I thought our mascot was dead?"
"You really don't pay attention to much, do you?"
"As little as possible."
"Okay. We've got a new mascot and it's a pig named Champers that went missing this weekend. Anyway. The gang guys met up with the football guys, so I followed them to see if they'd lead me back to the pig. They realized I was following them and started chasing me."
"Hold on, you're telling me you almost got yourself killed over a pig?"
"Well, it's not like that was the plan or anything."
"If you're going to go sherlocking around, Shakes, you really need to get better at this."
"Seriously. Solving mysteries has never been my thing."
"Clearly. If those two took your pig, they would've killed it and left it on the 50-yard line for all to see."
"Then why were they meeting up with a bunch of preppy high school guys?"
"You've never seen a drug deal go down, have you?" He sighed and added, "Outside of the movies?"
I almost hated to answer. "No."
"Life isn't like the movies. Bad things happen in real life to teenage girls who go looking around where they shouldn't be."
I was starting to figure that out. I wanted to say more, to somehow defend myself, as though my actions were defensible, but approaching headlights stole my attention. Just as well. Ricardo had a date to salvage and I wanted nothing more than to forget this night ever happened.
A good night's sleep would be the answer to all my troubles.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I wasn't sure why I was running, but I had the distinct feeling that my life depended on it. My surroundings were unfamiliar, but my feet seemed to know where they were going. That was weird. I'd never been the type of girl to spend a lot of time in forests.
But in this moment, I knew precisely where I was.
Somewhere behind me, the crunch of dry leaves and the snap of twigs let me know my pursuer was gaining on me. I lifted my heavy brown skirt a little higher and begged my screaming legs not to give out on me now. As it was, the violent pounding of my heart might cease to go on at any moment, rendering my legs useless anyway.
Was this what terror felt like?
This was all wrong. I could never outrun him; I knew that. In the moonless night, I might be able to hide from him. If I could find just the right shadow, he might run right past me and I could double back to safety. Not that home would ever be safe again now. I'd need to get to the train station unseen. Once aboard, my chances of survival would improve greatly.
I ducked to my right and glued my back to the rough bark of a large oak. My heart was still practically pounding its way out of my chest, but I was able to get control of my breathing. Although a large part of me wanted to give in to panic, I forced a serene sense of peace to fill my body. In dangerous situations, panic would always lead to death.
And this wasn't my first dangerous situation.
My pursuer didn't run right past me though. Instead, he slowed his pace as though he knew his prey was no longer on the move. He wasn't able to control his body as well as I was. I could hear him gasping and wheezing when he came to rest several yards away from me. He called my name softly into the darkness, as though I might come out of hiding because he claimed all was forgiven, as if I was the one who needed forgiveness after what he'd done.
A woman like me didn't get where I was by falling for foolish ploys. I stood firm. I stayed silent. If he wanted me, he'd have to do the work to find me.
When a soft breeze rustled through my hair on its way to him, I knew it was over. After all our time together, he would know my scent anywhere. If only there'd been time to wash away the perfume—the perfume he'd chosen for me—before my escape.
It was a risk, but a calculated one, when I started running again. I didn't know this part of the forest so well and low-hanging branches whipped me in the face and brush stung my legs during my hurried flight.
I didn't care. My body could take time to heal once I was safely away. Angels Grasp. Fitting. His angelic face had lured me in until I'd sacrifice anything to escape his ever-tightening grasp.
I was all but at the end of my strength when he caught me. The darkness made it impossible to make out the features of his face, but I knew the look he'd have in his eyes. With as many times as I'd seen it burn there, I knew it well. While I barely saw the knife move between us in the night, I certainly felt it.
My hands flailed uselessly against the knife's sharp edge. Even after I was on the ground, sticky and in tatters, the knife was unrelenting. My dress would be ruined, wholly unsalvageable. The last thought that flitted through my mind was that I should'v
e worn my best dress when I left.
Then he wouldn't be able to give it to the next girl he destroyed.
I shot up out of bed and began patting down my body, desperate to stop the bleeding. But there was no blood. Just goofy cartoon pajamas soaked through with sweat. The glaring red numbers on my alarm clock told me it was 3:33, that special time of night when it was too late to still be awake and too early to get up for school.
I stumbled down the hall to the bathroom where I splashed my face with water and took a long drink from the tap. Through my nerves, the metallic mineral taste of our tap water barely registered. When I looked in the mirror, I was still me, still plain old Sherlock Shakespeare. No heavy brown skirts, no scratches on my face or legs from running.
Just my reflection. And the flash of a beautiful face behind mine.
I jumped around and pressed my back against the counter, ready to fight off whoever was there. Nothing. I pressed my face into my hands and fought to get it together. It wasn't like this was my first nightmare. I'd slept with my light on for a month after I watched a Freddy Krueger marathon for the first time.
Of course, Freddy had never seemed so real to me.
After I shut off the bathroom light, I tiptoed back to my bedroom. No sense waking up the rest of the house because my brain chose now to process what I'd been through earlier that night. Hiding behind a tree was just as stupid as thinking running into an alley was a good idea.
Even though the night was warm and humid outside, a wave of frosty air hit me when I crossed the threshold of my bedroom. That was wrong. It had been pleasantly warm when I left it. I hung back by the door, but the frozen air didn't change.
Movement was everywhere around me.
I flipped on the lights, expecting to find an intruder in my room. Nothing.
Except for a glimpse of a brown skirt from the corner of my eye.
My heart was thumping just as hard as it had been in the dream. Sleep apparently wouldn't happen tonight, especially now that my eyes and imagination were working overtime to drive me mad. I quickly retrieved my robe from the closet and my econ book from my backpack before heading down to the kitchen.