“Hey, look,” she sighed, stripping off her jeans as she got changed for bed. “You're clearly burnt out over all of this. Why don't you come out tomorrow night with me and some friends? Get your mind off of things?”
Furrowing my eyebrows, I stared at her in doubt. “I don't know. Maybe.” It would beat being alone, this situation has me freaked out.
“Good,” she said, fluffing her long raven hair. “Then it's settled. Maybe I'll even find you a date for the Fall festival, in case your mystery boy turns out to be a serial killer.” She winked at me in humor, but inside, my stomach twisted into a violent knot.
It was the sort of tension that I knew wouldn't truly fade until I managed, somehow, to find out what was going on.
I needed to know who Nethiun was.
Somehow, I'd have to figure it out.
****
I didn't sleep well that night. The haze of strange dreams mixed with black smoke and piercing eyes carried over long into my day.
English was as bad as usual, thanks to the exhaustion.
Managing to keep my eyes open was a chore, one Mr. Birch was keen to press. Stumbling through the passages he asked me to read, I hoped Becky might forget about asking me to go out that night.
All I wanted was to curl up in bed and hide away from the world. I didn't even have the energy to go to the police anymore, at this rate.
Thus, when Mr. Birch called out to me before I could flee down the hall, I groaned inwards. Turning, I rubbed at the side of one eye and forced a smile up into his serious face.
“Hey, Mr. Birch, what's up?”
“Gale,” he sighed, sitting on his desk carefully. “Are you alright? You seem distracted.”
Making my smile wider, I adjusted my bag. “Everything is fine, sure.”
He knew I was lying, it was obvious. But in a miracle of social grace, he didn't press me further. “Alright,” he said gently. “But if you ever need to talk, you know you can come to me, right?”
Can I? I wondered, staring at the first glimmer of tenderness I'd seen the man display in the weeks I'd been taking his class. He'd been nothing but serious and strict our entire relationship.
I'm sorry, Mr. Birch, I'm sure you mean well... but I just don't think this is your business.
“I need to get going,” I said quickly, turning on my heel. “Uh, thanks Mr. Birch. Have a good weekend.”
Behind me, I heard him murmur. “You too, Gale.”
Almost jogging down the hall, I hurried out into the crisp air and kept right on going. I just needed to get away from the walls and questions.
Maybe I should have just told him what was going on. But how can I, when I'm not even sure?
Kicking a chunk of leaves aside, I pulled my dark blue jacket closer. My plan was to head downtown, talk to the police, then meet up with Becky to go out.
She'd told me that morning the general plan, gather at the Gold Boar for dancing and whatever else.
Her optimistic plea that, perhaps later, we'd be able to sneak into a twenty-one-plus club only made me shake my head.
I made a quick detour through the park, tossing out crumbs from the left over bread I'd stuffed in my jacket pockets.
Dropping the hard chunks, I kept glancing around, unable to shake the feeling that Nethiun might show up any minute.
When I finally hurried off downtown, the sky only just turning red, I was almost disappointed.
I wonder if it was all a joke, maybe he gave up? Maybe... maybe he WAS flirting with me, and I just blew it?
Ducking my head against a chilly gust, I chided myself mentally. Stop it. Don't start doubting yourself. Remember that he said he's been following you for a while.
Downtown was already loud and lively, even though it was hardly past five. Groups of students mingled with people who worked or lived in the area, gathering in front of stores and making walls of noise.
Weaving around everyone, I stood at the corner before the concrete beast of a building that was the police station.
Setting my lips into a determined line, I strolled through the large double doors.
The woman at the counter looked up as I entered, offering me a weak smile under tired eyes. It made me wonder if we mirrored each other. “Excuse me,” I said. “Um. I'm here to report a... well, a stalker, I suppose.”
“Oh my,” the lady answered. Sitting up, she tapped at the buttons on her phone. “One second, let me get someone for you.”
Nodding, I peered around the station with interest. Cops wandered around in uniform, while a number of plain clothes people sat around desks, typing or chatting.
“Yes,” the woman said suddenly. “Yes, detective Remmy, there's someone who'd like to speak with you. Mmhm. Yes, when you have a moment, thanks.” Clicking the phone down, she gave me another weary grin. It didn't quite reach her eyes. “If you'd like, there's some coffee over there while you wait.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Blinking, I wandered over to the pot of dark liquid. Wonder if this has been here for a while or not. Realizing I was too exhausted to care, I poured myself a small cup.
Barely getting the sugar and powdered cream into it, a voice interrupted me. “Hello, can I help you?”
Jumping, wincing at the hot coffee that scalded my wrist, I turned to find a broad man in a dark grey shirt and trousers behind me.
He seemed friendly enough, flinching sympathetically at how I wiped liquid from my skin. “Sorry,” he said quickly, “didn't mean to scare you. I'm Detective Remmy.”
“Oh, ah, right,” I babbled, drying my hand on my jacket. Reaching out, we shook briefly. “I'm Gale, and don't worry about the coffee. That was my bad.”
“A bit jumpy?” he asked, a bushy mustache hiding some of his frown.
My laugh was hollow. “A bit, yes. I uh, I've never had to do this before, so...”
Nodding understandingly, he motioned me towards a table in the corner. “Here, come tell me what's wrong.”
We sat across from one another as I nursed my coffee to gather my thoughts. Tapping the rim of the cup, I set it down gently. “Right, so. Here's the thing. I think I'm being stalked.”
Remmy didn't seem shocked. “Ah, I see. You think, you aren't sure?”
“Kind of? I mean,” I said quickly, waving my hands in front of me, “I can't prove it. That's all. So if you ask me to, well...”
His chuckle was deep, sympathetic. “No no, Gale, relax. I just want you to tell me what happened. You don't need to prove anything to me.”
Unsure about how easy this seemed, I took another swig of my drink. “Alright. Bare with me, it'll sound a little weird. But last night, I was walking through my college campus—I go to Endicott, up the road—anyway, when I went through the commons... Well, there was a guy watching me.”
“A guy,” he said, pulling out a small notebook to scribble in. “How old, would you say?”
Shrugging, I felt Nethiun's face burning in my memory. “My age, maybe? At least nineteen, I think. Um, he was blonde, pretty pale. Oh, really tall, too.”
Remmy nodded, staring down as his pen blurred over the page. “Aright, what color were his eyes?”
“Uh,” I coughed.
The detective glanced up at me through thick eyebrows. “Didn't get a good look at them?”
“He was wearing sunglasses,” I explained lamely, unsure how to express how much that detail had bothered me. “He kind of had them on even when it got dark out.”
“Sorry, dark out? He was following you at night?”
“Late evening, before the sun set, he followed me to the park by the college. Then he must have followed me back to the campus, he showed up behind me after things got dark.”
Remmy tapped the pen to his cheek,
studying me curiously. “So you saw him following you. Did he speak to you?”
Recalling some of the weird things Nethiun had said, I blushed. “Uh. Yeah. He told me he'd been following me for a while, and he knew my name.”
Sighing, the detective wrote something down. “Fingers crossed, did he tell you what he wanted, or who he was?”
Laughing a little cynically, I tugged the ends of my hair. “Actually, no and yes. He wouldn't say what he was following me for. But, he did tell me his name—and please don't laugh—he called himself Nethiun.”
“Nethiun?”
Closing my eyes, I drained my coffee cup. “Weird, right?”
“Maybe a fake name,” he mused. “Hmn. Anything else?”
Thinking of how he had teased me about the stale bread, I bit my lip. “Nope.”
The broad man leaned back in his chair, considering what he had written down. “Well, Gale, from what you've said, there isn't much I can do. I'm sorry to say that. While I'm glad you reported this, we can't act on anything unless this guy actually does something.”
My belly felt cold. I wished I had more coffee. “Wait, what? I don't understand. He followed me and admitted to stalking me!”
“I'm really sorry,” he said, scratching at the back of his skull. “I wish I could do more, but it isn't illegal to follow someone.”
Shocked by the turn this had taken, I looked down at my hands as they gave a twinge of pain. I was gripping the edge of the table so hard, my knuckles looked like bone.
Gently, I let go, folding them in my lap. I could control that, but not the anger in my voice. “So coming here was a waste of time.”
“No, no, don't say that. If this guy does something, now we have a trail started to work from!”
“Yeah,” I said, my tone acid with disdain, “or, he murders me because he's a crazy person stalking me around campus. I guess after that, you sure can do something.” Standing so fast my chair almost tipped over, I hoisted my backpack. “Thanks for everything, detective.”
Remmy lifted a hand, clearly wanting me to come back, but I wouldn't have it. After talking myself into finally coming to the police station, I felt worse than ever.
How could a situation like this have actually made everything worse?
I should never have bothered, I thought bitterly, stalking out the front doors without looking back. I should never have wasted my time. That's all it was. A waste.
Stomping into the cold evening, I headed up the sidewalk towards the west district. It was where I was supposed to meet up with Becky.
Part of me wanted nothing more than to head to the dorms and marathon awful episodes of cooking shows. I was miserable, frustrated with being told I couldn't be helped.
The last thing I want to do now is go out and party.
However, if there was something I hated more, it was disappointing people. I'd promised Becky I would go out, I didn't need to make her angry with me with everything else I was dealing with.
The Gold Boar wasn't far, I wished the walk had been longer. By the time I arrived, I was still seething from my meeting with the detective.
Pushing through the spinning door with its elaborate yellow curling designs, I felt the wave of heat and sound hit me at the same time.
The inside of the restaurant, which was more of a club than the name suggested, was bustling. It was a young crowd, especially since there was no age limit on entry. It was one of the few in the area that ran that way, but it drew much of the freshmen on campus for that reason.
Looking around, my feet itched to let me backtrack out the door. I thought, perhaps, if I moved fast enough... Becky might never even miss me if I say I showed up and couldn't find her.
My glimmer of freedom vanished when the dark-haired woman slammed into me with a squealing hug.
“Gale! You made it! I thought you might bail, I'm so impressed you didn't!”
Hugging her with a sheepish smile, I untangled myself and held her at a distance. She was dressed to the nines, as usual. Her cocktail dress shimmered in bronze and green, clinging to every curve on her body.
Pointedly, I stared at her exposed cleavage, wondering if her breasts would stay inside all night. Only gravity could prove me wrong.
I started to talk, then raised my voice as it became clear the sound of the crowd would wash me out. “Hey! Yeah, uh, about that. I was thinking of maybe leaving a little—”
“Here, this way!” She blurted, ending my attempt at polite departure. Frowning, I let her tug me through the swarm, feeling completely out of place.
Dressed in jeans and my jacket, my hair mussed as ever and my face free of makeup, I was mildly humiliated when Becky shoved me in front of a group of people at a corner booth.
Grinning, her lip gloss catching the lights on the ceiling, she motioned at me. “Everyone! This is my friend, Gale!”
Wincing, I gave a pathetic wave. “Uh. Hey.”
The four people, three guys and one girl, looked at me with varying expressions. They didn't seem impressed, but at least they smiled.
“That's Jim, Kylie, Stewart, and Markel,” Becky said, gesturing to each of her friends. “Now, sit down, and let's get some drinks!”
Her hands shoved me, roughly, into the booth. Not casually, she squished me up against one of the boys. I couldn't remember if he was Stewart or Jim, so I just offered him a nervous smile.
What the hell am I doing here?
Around me, the group chatted happily. It was like I was invisible, all I could think about was how much my skull was pounding.
When a waitress came to order drinks, I blushed as I asked for water. I knew no one else would be having dumb regular water, but they all probably had money to afford something better.
Beside me, the young man asked for a beer. Surprised, I shifted over so I could watch him hand his ID to the waitress. She squinted at it, nodded, then handed it back before scurrying off.
Stewart—Jim?—whoever he was, caught my eye. “What's wrong?”
“Oh,” I mumbled, rubbing the side of my neck, “uh, nothing. I just... I didn't think you were twenty-one.”
Laughing, he winked at me in a way that made me stomach twist. “I'm not.”
Oh, wonderful, now I'm mixed in with some fake ID toting asses. Great. Mom would be very proud.
The man who's name I did not know leaned in close, too close. I could see the stubble on his cheeks. “So, Becky said your name was Gale?”
“Erm, right. Yes. And she said you were...”
He spared me the humiliation of guessing, his bright green eyes sparkling as he whispered in my ear. “Stewart, yeah.” His breath tickled my skin, and that was the breaking point for me.
Jumping up, my knees slammed the table solidly. Grimacing, ignoring the surprised voices and hands grabbing for spilled liquids, I shoved Becky over.
“Hey!” She gasped, allowing herself to be moved from the booth. “Gale, what is it, where are you going?”
“Outside.” Shooting a look back at her as I passed, I saw Stewart staring at me. “Air, I need air.”
Pushing through the crowd, I nearly fell onto the sidewalk when I exploded into the cool outside world.
Inhaling slowly in relief, I pushed my hair from my forehead with a groan. Ugh, was that normal? Dammit, that guy was just... Do I not know how to flirt? Is it just me?
Frustrated with myself, with everything happening to me lately, I shook my head until my ears rang. I don't know what to do anymore. Maybe I am a little scared of guys, and maybe I should thank Mom for that, but... but he freaking breathed into my EAR and...
Running my hand over my face, I peeked up along the sidewalk. It was quiet outside, everyone quick to escape the cold October we
ather and hide with friends inside the bright buildings.
Dejected, I walked slowly down the cement, noticing a few people hanging around a tiny stall across the way. An older man was selling sparklers, a few kids holding them high in delight.
Smiling at the sight, I ignored the pang of jealousy in my gut. It must be nice to be so carefree. Huffing, I watched my breath swirl in front of me in the crisp air. Maybe I should try to relax more, or care less, or... or something.
My scalp tingled, mere seconds before I heard an oddly metallic groan. As if drawn by a sense of knowing dread, I tilted my chin to the sky.
Above me, on the side of a building, I spotted a large sign proclaiming how delicious a certain brand of beer was.
Blinking, unsure what had tickled my intuition so much, I squinted at the display.
Amazingly, it began to move, tilting forward and sliding from the stone. It strangely reminded me of fudge melting down a slope of ice cream.
Impossible, I thought, fighting with myself over what I was actually seeing.
The giant structure was about to come crashing down on me.
I need to move, to run!
My legs felt like they belonged to someone else. My whole body was boiling, but none of the heat could reach low enough to give me control.
I might have stood there, letting myself become crushed, if it wasn't for that sharp scream.
Turning, I saw her. Only slightly bigger than the bag of bread I shared with the birds, the girl couldn't have been older than five or six.
In one hand, she was holding a sparkler. Her eyes, wide dollops of wet emerald, were fixed above. Following them back up, I watched the metal snapping, grinding on wire in a downward spiral.
Suddenly, my legs seemed just fine.
Rushing forward, I bolted across the stretch of sidewalk. There was no one else, no one but me could have made the distance and reached that little girl in time.
I wondered, as I grabbed her and threw her forward, out of the way, if they would put something heroic on my tombstone.
Around me, the squeal of crunching metal began to rain down. On my knees, fear mixing with an odd sense of acceptance, I didn't even feel the scrapes from my tumble.
Maybe Fate: A Novel (New Adult Paranormal Romance) Page 3