Logan yells Aimee’s name, but she doesn’t seem to hear him; she never turns back to see who’s pleading for her to stop. Aimee runs through the parking lot and up the hill to the outer perimeter of the school. She’s heading straight for the trees that surround the back of the building. Logan’s worry increases ten-fold as she nears the edge of the forest. Those trees extend for miles and are so thick the sun barely breaks through. If she gets lost in there, she may never come out.
Logan’s watches as Aimee runs without abandon, seemingly caught within her own mind with no escape from whatever haunts her. Logan knows she just got out of the hospital and considering her current errant behavior, there’s no way to predict what she’ll do. He picks up the pace, suddenly thankful for the incessant baseball conditioning he endures. He can see her black hair billowing out behind her; he’s close enough to almost touch it. Pushing himself to the brink of his speed, he’s finally close enough to grab her shirt. He pulls her towards him forcefully and is happy to see that his action momentarily disorients her. She finally slows down just enough for Logan to tackle her to the ground. Aware of her aversion to touch, Logan carefully avoids landing on top of her when they both hit the ground hard. He rolls to the left, mindful not to let go of her shirt, but quick enough to be the first on his feet. He turns to face Aimee, ready to run again if necessary, but he sees that she has stopped. For a girl who was running like a bat out of hell just a few seconds ago, it’s eerie to see her lying so still on a pile of leaves. He has his arms out, palms down in preparation if she decides to bolt again. Her dark clothes blend in with the brown leaves that surround her. She’s lying face down in the leaves, but he can hear her breathing heavily into the earth. As gently as possible Logan turns Aimee over so that he can see her face and assess any injuries. He’s careful not to touch anything, but her clothing. When she is fully on her back, Logan leans in close to her face, fear etched in his every feature.
“Aim, can you hear me?” he asks, tentatively wondering how to proceed. “Please, answer me. You’re really freaking me out here,” he adds, hoping to somehow get through to her. But he doesn’t. Logan stares into her sea blue eyes, searching for some kind of life, but all he sees is her vacant stare, mocking him. Afraid to touch her, he realizes that he has no idea what to do next. He toys with the idea of picking her up and carrying her back to school to find the nurse, but he’s certain she’d be pissed if he touched her like that. If she’s going be his, he has to respect it. Besides, he actually likes her. Hell, he more than likes her. He adores her. Ever since the first day she walked into his third period freshman English class, she has intrigued him.
He used to think the reason she shuns all contact is because she hates other people, but since he’s gotten to know her better, he has discarded that notion. He has watched her from afar for years, gauging her potential. As much as she tries to hide it, Logan sees the small acts of kindness she does every day for others, who either don’t notice or just don’t care. Once, he saw her sneak a five-dollar bill into the locker of a fellow student. Later on in the lunchroom, Logan saw the same girl happily eating pizza and explaining to her friends how lucky she was to have found some money at the bottom of her locker. She must have simply forgotten she put it in there. That’s just how Aimee worked, under the radar and invisible so no credit could ever be attributed to her.
The Aimee the world knows is a girl slumped down in her desk in class with her arms crossed over her chest, clearly at odds with the world. She wears all black, including gloves, to appear contrary. But, Logan sees past all of this. He sees the heart she hides behind the black. All he has to do is look into her striking blue eyes that shine like beacons amongst the darkness she clouds around herself. Logan was drawn in immediately and would have said, ‘hello’ if he had known how to back then. He’s since come into his own style of coming onto girls, but back then, he was just Logan, a newbie freshman who still needed to prove himself. Luckily, he was pretty good with a bat and a basketball, which earned him his place within the upper ranks of school popularity rather quickly. He didn’t have to be clever anymore, he just had to make baskets and hit the hell out of a baseball. All he had to do was keep winning state championships. That was easy for Logan. Dealing with Aimee, that was hard. It didn’t matter how much confidence he gained over the past two years, he still can’t seem to get things right with Aimee. Well, it definitely wasn’t for lack of trying.
Aimee’s moan brings him back to their current predicament. He kneels beside her in the leaves and leans closer to her face.
“Are you alright, Aim? I don’t know what to do. You need the nurse. Should I carry you back to school?” he asks, quietly treating her like he would a frightened animal.
Aimee blinks and her eyes go from vacant to terrified in an instant. She turns her head right and left, taking in her surroundings in a confounded way. “Where am I?” she asks, her hands coming up to grab his shirt. “How the hell did I get here?” she continues, her voice rising in panic with every word.
Logan isn’t quite sure how to answer. Did she have some kind of blackout? Why can’t she remember running from the school and into the woods? Something has Aimee spooked and Logan is determined to find out what.
“You ran from the school. I was in the courtyard eating my lunch when I saw you come out the side door. You bolted straight for the trees. I tried to call out to you, but you wouldn’t answer. I only just now caught up to you in the woods. Do you really not remember any of that?” asks Logan hoping his voice doesn’t betray his worry.
“No,” Aimee says simply. “But, I remember what made me run. I need to find Dejana and I can’t go back to school, it isn’t safe.”
Logan watches Aimee take out her cell phone from her pocket and text Dejana. Fleetingly, he wonders why she didn’t use the darn thing in the first place. Why did she run when all she had to do was call for help? Logan sighs. It seems that with Aimee, nothing can be simple. Logan waits while she completes her text and puts her phone back into her pocket. The minute those crystal blue eyes meet his, all he can think about is kissing her. Despite the completely insane circumstances, all Logan wants to do is grab her and see what she tastes like. He can’t take his eyes off her lips; which is probably why Aimee started yelling at him. Damn, why does she have this effect on him?
“Earth to Logan. Can you help me or not?” Aimee asks in a clipped tone.
“Sure, I’ll even drive you to her house,” he says. “But, are you okay to move? I kind of had to tackle you to the ground. Sorry about that,” he says sheepishly. Aimee smiles and waves her hand in an absent gesture as she mumbles something close to the words ‘forget it’ before grabbing his arm with her gloved hand and slowly starts to sit up, using Logan as an anchor. Immediately, Logan sees all the color drain from her face and wonders for a split second if she’s going to puke on him. Selfishly, Logan hopes she doesn’t ruin his favorite blue shirt, the one he got for winning the championship last year. Yet stupidly, he finds himself moving closer to her, ready to catch her again if she needs him. She seems to get control of herself right away, because she lets go of Logan’s hand and stands up by herself.
Aimee takes a deep breath and turns to look at Logan. “Thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come after me. I owe you one,” she finishes, her tone serious.
“No worries. I’ll take you up on that one day,” replies Logan with a sly smile.
Together, they make their way back to the new school and head straight for Logan’s car. Despite Logan’s best attempts to try to convince Aimee to go to the nurse to be checked out, she flatly refuses. She stumbled once on the way back and fell to the ground holding her stomach, but as before, she refuses Logan’s help.
Once they reach Logan’s car, he pushes the button to unlock the doors and runs to open Aimee’s door for her. She mumbles a soft ‘thank you’ before climbing into the seat, quickly drawing her knees up to her stomach, and wrapping her arms around her. L
ogan stands there for a second, wondering why she always does her best to keep herself bound, out of reach of every other person around her. It may keep the demons out, but it also repels anyone that could possibly care about her. Sighing, Logan closes the door and makes his way to the driver’s seat.
As he starts the car, he turns to Aimee and says, “It’s going to be alright. I promise.” And he means it. He pulls out of the school’s parking lot and drives Aimee to Dejana’s house thinking the whole time how utterly and completely, he will never understand girls.
Chapter Fifteen
~ No Rest For The Weary ~
I sit in the car next to Logan, the sound of his breathing calms me. Contemplating Logan’s words as I look out the window and watch the midday sun reflect off the cars that we pass. I blacked out. No idea how or why, but for some reason my mind just shut down and my body did what it does best; it fled. I count myself very lucky that Logan saw me run from the building. If he hadn’t stopped me when he did, there’s no telling what could have happened. Best case scenario: I would have kept running until I came to my senses and found my way back to civilization. The scariest and worst case scenario: the killer would have had the perfect opportunity to silence me forever. Whether I like it or not, I am in Logan’s debt. I cradle the note in my fist; the note that Logan does not know about nor can ever know about. It burns like a fireball within my fingers. I long to throw it out the window, but I can’t. He’s coming for me and I have to be ready.
Thankfully, it isn’t long before we make it to Dejana’s house. She must have gotten the text I sent, because her blue Prius is already in the driveway of her perfect house, made for her picturesque family. Dejana’s parents have money, so there is a three-car garage, large screen televisions in every room, and the furniture is so nice I feel bad even sitting on it. I have only been to Dejana’s house a few times. I tend to avoid her parents since it’s painfully obvious that they don’t like me. If I were wearing a cheerleader outfit versus my usual black ensemble, they probably would have warmed up to me by now. On second thought, nope, not even then. I sealed the deal on her father’s hatred of me when I refused to shake his hand the first time we met. It was seen as an obvious, albeit unintentional, lack of manners. That meeting (and every other one since) has not gone over well at all.
I get out of the car and practically run to the front door, hoping the entire time that Dejana, not her parents, open the door. Behind me, I hear a noise and realize that Logan has followed me. I’m about to tell him to leave, but I’m suddenly assaulted by a cold gust of air as the front door opens and a worried Dejana fills the doorway.
“What the hell happened? Why did you text me and tell me to meet you here immediately? You wrote ‘something awful has happened,’ but didn’t elaborate. For all I knew, another bomb had gone off!”
Before I could answer any of her questions, she turns to Logan, her eyes practically spitting fire at him.
“What did you do to her, Logan Roberts?” she asks, giving neither of us any chance to answer. “I mean look at her! She is as white as a ghost and covered in leaves!” spits Dejana as she steps out of the doorway and turns me around to assess any damage. Seeing the leaves in my hair, she gasps and puts her hand over her mouth. Still reeling from her assault of questions, I don’t realize the direction her thoughts are going in until it is too late. She advances on us with her hands on her hip and hell in her eyes. “If you made me come all the way home just to tell me that you two did it behind the school in a pile of leaves, I swear I will throttle you both with my bare hands and I’ll enjoy it.”
Too innocent in the way of men and love to even think of being offended by Dejana’s words, I simply stare at her, utterly confused. Logan on the other hand, apparently, is not as innocent as I am.
“In a pile of leaves? Seriously?” he asks offended. “If I was going to have sex with Aimee, it would be in a bed. And, I would at least take her on a date first. I certainly would not take her to a dirty pile of leaves in the woods, unlike most of the guys you know apparently,” he challenges, clearly not bowing down to her intimidation tactics. I can see Dejana’s impressed. It isn’t every day that someone stands up to her. Usually her beauty and popularity get her anything she wants, including bending just about anyone to her will. I am witnessing history in the making. And I still have no idea why either of them is mad.
“Hey, remember me over here?” I ask them as they stare each other down. “Still a virgin, sadly and still very much in need of Dejana’s help. There is something you need to see regarding our little project. We had a big break today and it wasn’t a good one.”
With Logan no longer a threat, Dejana’s attention snaps back to me. She immediately understands the ramifications of what I said. I can almost see her mind clicking to find a good excuse to send Logan on his way. Luckily, I had thought of one on the ride over here.
“Logan,” I start, “I know that you have baseball practice right after school today and you have already spent too much time fretting over me. Thank you for bringing me to Dejana. She’s already dealt with me after the coma, so she’ll know what to do,” I explain hoping he’ll buy it. When he still doesn’t move one foot from Dejana’s front porch, I realize that he’s still skeptical. Damn. It seems I need a better reason for him to leave us alone. “I promise to find you tomorrow at lunch so you can see that I’m okay,” I say, hoping he’ll take the hint. He does. I guess the thought of my wanting to see him tomorrow is just too much to resist. It’s almost too easy.
“Ok,” Logan says hesitantly. “I’ll leave you to it then. See you tomorrow at lunch. Don’t stand me up or I’ll just go and find you anyway,” he threatens as he makes his way back to his car, gets in, and drives off. Neither of us moves until we see him turn down the next street and disappear from view.
“Well, come on inside then,” says Dejana. “I have a feeling we have a lot to talk about.”
I am dragged to the kitchen and plopped into a seat at the table where Dejana tells me to drink some water before practically forcing it down my throat. Some water sloshes onto her crème top and jeans, but she doesn’t seem to notice. I must really look like hell, because she doesn’t ever go all maternal on me. I wish I could take away her worry, but there’s no way around it; I have to add more.
“The killer left me a note in my locker. I have no idea how the hell he pulled that off. I only just got the new locker and combination this morning. I freaked out and ran. Luckily, Logan saw me and came after me. I have no idea what I was doing, but when I came to, I was on the ground and Logan was standing over me with a worried look on his face.”
Stunned by the news, Dejana stops fretting and sits down in the chair next to me at the table. She doesn’t say anything for a solid minute. I know, because I counted. Finally, Dejana seems to have gotten over her shock and I see her eyes practically glowing with fear. The ring of the doorbell saves me from having to say any of my darkest fears. Dejana gets up from her chair and heads toward the door. I hear a muffling of voices growing closer until she comes back into the kitchen with Leah.
“Hey!” says Leah bubbly as usual. “Glad you’re here too, Aimee, because I have some information for both of you. When I texted Dejana she said she was on her way home, so I ran right over. Didn’t know you girls were in to skipping school. You just jumped up two degrees in my opinion of you. Anyway, there’s something I want to show you. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Leah asks as she flutters over to the kitchen table and takes out her expensive Mac from her bag. Even though it’s obvious Leah interrupted us, she only asks out of Southern politeness. From what Dejana has told me about Leah, she’s a force to be reckoned with. And I’ve been ‘reckoned’ with enough lately not to get in her way.
Leah pulls out one of the expensive leather chairs that surround the dark mahogany kitchen table and fires up her computer. Within seconds, she’s punching keys on the keyboard and I see all sorts of things come to life on her screen that I can nev
er hope to understand. Before long, she seems to find what she’s looking for and turns the laptop to face us, a look of triumph on her face. “I’m finally finished. This slideshow of pictures shows all the girls at our school that fit the description you gave me. You can just scroll through them by pressing this arrow here.” She points out a big arrow on the right hand side of the screen as if we were simpletons. “And voilà!”
“Amazing,” Dejana says, clearly in awe of the sheer amount of information Leah was able to put together in such a short time period. “You did it.”
“It wasn’t so hard actually. I just had to hack into the school system and set up a program with all the parameters you wanted. Easy as pie,” says Leah, beaming with pride. I sit up in my seat and pull the laptop’s screen towards me. I begin to scroll through the pictures, not sure what I am looking for, but determined to study every single photograph for any kind of recognition. If the killer is as meticulous and organized as we think he is, he has his next victim picked out already. I keep scrolling in silence, desperate for any kind of lead to find this asshole. If Dejana or Leah speaks to me, I don’t hear them. Finally, my persistence is rewarded when I arrive at the twenty-first slide. A girl with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes stares back at me through the screen. The sense that I know her is overwhelming. I read the name underneath the slide: Elizabeth Donovan. I don’t recognize the name, but my insides are churning. I can feel the killer’s memories swimming inside my head. He knows her, I’m certain of it. I can feel it. I can only hope that we aren’t too late to save her.
The vertigo hits without warning. Despite Dejana and Leah’s best efforts to reach me in time, my head hits the table and the dreaded darkness consumes me once again.
The Haunting of Secrets Page 7