TRACES
OF
ME
Nikki Summers
* * * * *
PUBLISHED BY:
Nikki Summers
TRACES OF ME
Copyright © 2016 Nikki Summers
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
No Part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the permission in writing from author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.
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Cover design by: Victoria Cooper Art
TRACES OF ME
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One knows what one has lost,
but not what one may find.
-- George Sand
CHAPTER ONE
~
Watching You
He didn't believe in fate and he certainly didn't believe in love at first sight but he couldn't deny the way her presence pulled at him. He couldn't turn away from her, he couldn't refuse himself an innocent glance. He missed her every time he walked out of that cafe. Many times he considered walking back in and just introducing himself, but the idea of it made him vulnerable. He didn't like that. He never had a problem finding girls, they chased him, he didn't go after them. He began to look back at her through the window every time he left. She always seemed lost in thought. He wondered what she wrote about. He wondered where she was from. He wondered what she tasted like. He would shake his head, cursing himself for being obsessed with a girl he didn't even know, but something about her wouldn't let him be, no matter how much he tried to deny it.
The first time he saw her he felt his heart rate increase and his body temperature rise. He thought maybe he was having a panic attack. He looked at her and couldn't look away when her dark eyes landed on his. His hand holding his coffee cup trembled. She caught his gaze, held it then turned back to her writing. He turned his attention to the door as he walked out in a daze, wondering what had just hit him. The next day, he told his temporary assistant that he would be getting his own coffee. His regular secretary usually went for him but he felt compelled to go again. If there was a chance she would be there then he had to go.
Much to his relief, she was sitting in the same spot. Instead of a journal she had her laptop with her. She was busy typing when he entered. As he stood in line he watched her, waiting for her to look up. He ordered his coffee and slowly put the lid on it before bringing his gaze back to her again. She was looking out the window, her long wavy hair falling down her back. He smiled as she brushed it off her shoulder, revealing pale skin on her neck and her collarbone. He briefly pictured his fingers stroking her when she glanced at him. Her lips turned into a sweet smile. She blushed then went back to her typing. He walked out, regaining his composure by the time he made it back to his office. Everyday after that, at the same time, he left his office and raced to the cafe. Just the sight of her made him feel alive.
Now she was gone, vanished as though she never existed. He didn't see her at the coffee shop or at the park, where he recently caught sight of her running. He knew he was bordering on stalking when he would catch her there. Keeping his pace with her, he stayed back just enough so she wouldn't notice him. He liked the way she ran, fast and focused. She wasn't a jogger. She almost appeared as though she was running from someone. Feeling protective even though she wasn't his, he would look around, ready to fight anyone that dared to hurt her. When she would eventually slow her pace he knew he had to either run past her or risk getting caught following her. On the times he ran past her he had to force himself not to look back.
The day she vanished was a nightmare for him. He left work early, checking the cafe, hoping she might be there. He actually went in twice each day for over a week, waiting for her to appear but she never did. His runs at the park were boring now. He felt lost without her until finally he caught a glimpse and knew he had to talk to her. She had to know him, he refused to lose her again. He hasn't been able to eat or sleep since he last saw her. He found himself unable to concentrate at work, images of her running, sipping her coffee, typing and her beautiful dark eyes set on him but not seeing him drove him mad.
~~~
Living in so many small country towns has worn thin and Charlotte's beginning to feel adventurous. She has nothing to lose, everyone and everything she's ever cared about was taken from her years ago. After turning eighteen she’s been deciding on her locations, knowing that she could refuse to go where they placed her gave her back some control of her life. She wasn't the criminal she was the victim yet she's been held prisoner since the night her monster shattered her world.
“I want to go to Austin, Texas. You can keep tabs on me if you want once I get there. I know the rules by now. I won't be there for more than twelve weeks. I'll keep you posted as to where I'm going after that,” she told Jay, mustering up as much confidence as she could.
“Alright, it's your choice, but I'll still be around. You are the key to putting this guy on death row and you know that,” he said as he lit his smoke, rolling down the window.
“I want nothing more than to know he's dead,” she mumbled, looking out her window, avoiding his stare. Her tears had dried since leaving Ms. Shetland's ranch and she told herself she would never shed another tear again, for anyone. ‘Just another memory to lock away,’ she thought. She's becoming good at that. She didn't wallow in it any more. She just buried it somewhere inside and wrote stories with happy endings. She escaped into fiction because reality hurt far too much for her to write about.
“Just humor me and stay in Denton until I feel safe bringing you to Austin, okay?” he asked, breaking the silence. She just nodded, closing her eyes, drifting into the darkness that awaited her.
After six weeks in Austin, Jay came calling early one morning. His knock on her hotel door startled her. She had considered looking for an apartment with a security door but she kept putting it off. She knew she was being stupid, acting out of anger and that’s a weakness she knew her monster would take advantage of.
“What is it? Is he here?” she asked, pulling her tee shirt over her head. After years of quick escapes with Jay, she learned modesty could get you killed. She's left places with just a towel wrapped around her, changing in the back seat of cars. She hated the fact that Jay and his entourage could never find him. He always managed to escape after he found her.
Once, while pretending to sleep in the car she overheard Jay on his cell, reacting to the news that her monster has an inside contact. After she gave the description of the murderer to the police they went on a man hunt. His apartment had been vacated and all his things were gone. They later discovered that he was a private investigator. She took a bit of gratification in the fact that he had to give up his business and live a life on the run too. Jay mentioned to her once that her monster had been trained to shoot and she remembers that.
“He's calculated and well armed, never underestimate him,” he warned her. The idea of her monster not just being some disturbed cubicle worker haunted her. She knew he was insane, she saw his eyes clearly as they rolled up in his head when he attacked her mother.
After the first few panicked moves the investigators involved in her case discovered that it was actually the murderer himself that was calling the hotline
to tell them that he knew where she was. It became a game with him. Jay's fear was that one day he would get bored of hide and seek. Jay knew this psycho wouldn't rest until Charlotte was dead.
“Why are you still living here? You told me you knew the rules Charlotte. There isn't any security here. Anyone can get into your room if they wanted to. Do you have a death wish now?” he shouted at her as he barged in.
“No, I was planning on leaving anyway,” she said, throwing her belongings into her suitcase. She pulled on a pair of Adidas track pants and slid into her flip flops. Jay was furious as he slammed the door shut once she sat in his car.
“You don't want to go out like this Charlotte. I'd rather see you put a bullet through your own head than have to live knowing you died by his hand. He will make you suffer,” he said, causing her to shudder. She was aware that she had slacked off. A tear rolled down her cheek and she heard him sigh. He knew by now that her tears didn't fall so easily anymore.
“I'm sorry Charlie. I didn't mean to upset you. I know all this sucks,” he said, sliding his arm around her shoulder. He hugged her close while she pulled herself together, refusing to cry. When she sat up, she looked at him.
“Thanks for coming to get me,” she said. He kissed her forehead, his fingers running through her hair.
“He called the tip line again. I got here as fast as I could. The local police were called but they think he’s in Houston. At least that's where the call came from. He must have found you then left again, just like before,” he said, releasing her so he could take a drag of his smoke.
She could tell he hasn't been sleeping well again. The heavy bags under his eyes made her wonder if he knew more than he was saying. She touched his face, tracing her finger along his stubble. He looked into her eyes and she flinched at the pity she saw. Jay has been the only constant in her life for more than four years now. She wondered what he has sacrificed in his personal life for his work. She knew she wasn't the only one in the witness protection program that he took care of but he made her feel like she was. She moved her hand away from him and he picked up his cell. Staring out the window as the sun came up, she pushed down her feelings again.
“Let's go,” he said.
“I want to go to New York City,” she told him, staring out the window, looking for her monster.
“Not tonight. I’m taking you to a place in South Carolina. After that maybe I'll let you go to the big apple but you have to promise to live somewhere with a security entrance. Do you promise?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes Jay, I will. How long this time?” she groaned. She wasn’t looking forward to being under lock down again.
“Let's give it a few weeks okay? I'll stay with you for a couple of days, once I'm satisfied that you're safe I'll head home, leaving a local official to watch over you,” he explained. She didn't like it when he left her.
“So how's Mrs. Jay?” she asked, resentment in her voice. She didn't know much about him but she had over heard once that he was married. She didn't know how his wife could handle him being gone so much and putting himself in so much danger for others. He took a deep inhale of his cigarette before flicking it out the window. He glanced over at her then back to the road.
“Charlotte, are you okay? What's going through that pretty little head of yours?” he asked. She just shook her head and pulled out her journal. She knew she could never have Jay. After the scene with Tyler on the ranch she knew she could never have sex but she still wanted to curl up in Jay's protective arms. She could see little bits of silver in his dark hair he had pulled back into a small ponytail. He's only recently grown his hair. She could smell liquor on his breath. He never opened up to her about his private life so all she could do was guess. She wrote about him a lot. He was her rugged, dark hero with a bit of a dangerous edge that she was attracted to.
“How's your writing going?” he asked, glancing at her journal.
“It's good, starting to sell,” she told him. She didn't feel like sharing her writing with him, especially since she wrote about him.
“You know you have money right, you don't have to live in dives,” he told her, still mad about the cheap hotel in Austin.
“I told you I was saving it. I hope I'll never need it,” she said, feeling that familiar lump in her throat. The money was her parents, from the sale of the house and all their savings. It hurt her to think of all their hard work to give her an easier life than their childhoods was for nothing. She couldn't go to college or buy a house. She could only own enough to fill a suitcase.
She learned that writing was a great outlet for her thanks to one of her counselors she used to see. He had suggested something creative like music, painting or writing, something that could take her out of her pain. So she began to write. In the last two years she's written close to twenty novels, selling them online under different pen names, having the money deposited into different accounts. She's carried a number of social security numbers, passports and driver's licenses. Her whole life as she knows it is all about being able to disappear without a trace. No attachments, no friends, no lovers, no home, only brief moments with Jay.
“Stuff it down,” she whispered, taking shallow breaths, trying to control her emotions.
“I'm sorry Charlie,” he said, reaching for her hand. She let him hold it. The rare moments of contact with another human being made her feel alive. Even if all Jay would give her now was the odd kiss on the forehead, an arm around her shoulder or a hand to squeeze. She would take it and not let go.
Jay had provided a home for her in a suburb in Raleigh. A couple lived upstairs and they offered her the basement apartment. Jay turned on the light as she flopped down on the couch. Jay had basically driven the whole way, stopping for food and rest rooms periodically. She needed to run, to work up a sweat and stretch her legs but it was the middle of the night by the time they arrived. Jay wouldn't let her outside now.
“Hey, that's my bed Missy, you can have the bedroom. There are clean sheets and blankets in the closet. Go brush your teeth and get some sleep,” he ordered, pulling her up. She felt warm when his hands gripped her arms. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She breathed him in as he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.
“Sleep with me Jay, just sleep, please stay with me,” she whispered. She felt his hands shake, his chest muscles tense as he laid her down on the bed. He kissed her forehead, his lips remaining on her skin for a second longer than usual before he backed away.
“Good night Charlie,” he said with a gruffer voice. She knew he wouldn't but she wanted him to.
“Stuff it down,” she whispered to herself as she pulled the blanket over her head.
She spent the next few days holed up in the basement. Jay went shopping for her. The fridge and the cupboards were well stocked before he told her he had to go.
“Promise me you'll remember the drill Charlie. Don't drop your guard,” he ordered, pulling her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling his hard body under his suit jacket. He had shaved that morning, his cheek soft against hers now. She liked the stubble more though. She liked the pain with the pleasure. She felt his hands run up her back as he placed his forehead against hers. He kept his eyes on her, brushing her hair behind her ears. He was so close she could smell his minty breath mixed with his morning cigarette. They never talked about what happened between them a year ago but she often thought about it, especially when he stood so close to her.
“I'll be in touch. No going to New York until I say, got it?” he asked as he softly kissed her cheek.
“Yes sir,” she said as he pulled away from her.
“I'll see you soon,” he said, staring back into her clouded eyes. He knew she was hiding her feelings, he's watched her do it. He worried that one day she would explode, and all those feelings that she stuffs down will shatter all around her. He just hoped he would be there to help her pick up the pieces. Her loneliness pulled at his heart but he didn't k
now what else to do. He's come too close to losing himself with her before. He has been trying to keep his hands off her for a long time and now that she's maturing it’s becoming even more difficult, he knows he has to keep his distance. She's so beautiful and so fragile. Her hold on him was too intense. If he didn't step back he knew he might make a big mistake. The last thing she needs is an older man with his own baggage drooling all over her. He refused to soil her, one day he hoped she would find someone that could take her loneliness away and comfort her. As much as he wanted to at times, when she would touch him a little too much, a little too intensely, he had to force himself to turn away.
He was trying to salvage his marriage of ten years. His wife was very patient, understanding what he did for a living but she wanted a baby now. He had to take a desk job. He told her he would once Charlotte's killer was caught but not until then. There was no way he would leave her in someone else’s hands.
“I'll see you soon Jay. Thanks for everything, again,” she said coolly. He nodded then left. She couldn't hold back her tears once the door shut. They fell down her cheeks as she crashed onto the couch. She stayed like that for days, barely eating or writing. Finally, she regained her sanity and finished her novel. Putting on her sunglasses and a black wig she walked down to the local library. Once her laptop was connected to their wireless she uploaded it. Spending hours in the quiet library helped her to get Jay out of her thoughts. She knew he was sleeping next to his wife now.
The next day feelings of being trapped again began to overwhelm her. She didn't want to stay in that basement any longer. She considered calling Jay. She'd even found a payphone that worked. Pacing back and forth in front of it a hundred times until she finally decided calling him would be stupid. She could hear him getting frustrated with her, telling her to stay put until he told her she could move.
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