Fall With Me

by J. Lynn

  I quickly changed my mind. “I love you.”

  Charlie snorted.

  Ordering myself to forget about Reece, we headed out of the gated football field. He still had his arm hanging loosely over my shoulders. “I hate coming to these things,” he bitched. “Every single time we have to park out in the field. We’re going to be covered in ticks.”

  I smiled up at the starry sky as we trudged through the calf-­high grass. “You probably have twelve attached to your legs right now.”

  “Man, that’s fucked up.” He dropped his arm and shoved me.

  Stumbling to the side, I giggled, knowing he was going to make me check his scalp when we got to his parents’ house later. “I want to watch Never Been Kissed tonight.”

  Even in the dark and without looking at him, I knew he rolled his eyes. “That movie is so old it needs to be retired.”

  “Never!” I yelled as I jumped over a rock someone almost parked their truck on. “That guy is hot.”

  “That guy is really old now in real life,” he shot back.

  I flipped him off. “Don’t ruin it for me.”

  Shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts, he shook his head. I could see Charlie’s car, parked next to a van that hadn’t been there when we showed up.

  “Hey,” a voice called out. “Where are you guys heading off to?”

  I twisted at my waist, looking behind us, and swallowed a groan when I saw who it was. Henry Williams. He wasn’t alone. Two friends flanked him. All three of them were in a grade higher. All three were total douche bags. Especially Henry. He was a special kind of douche bag. The kind that was good-­looking and totally knew it, therefore the latter totally zeroed out the former.

  “Just keep walking,” Charlie said under his breath.

  I didn’t listen. Facing the boys, I planted my hands on my hips. “Nowhere you all are invited to.”

  Charlie muttered something as he stopped, turning around. I think he said something about my mouth getting me in trouble, but that wouldn’t be the first or last time I’d heard that.

  One of Henry’s friends laughed, and the sound grated on my nerves. It was high-­pitched, much like the cheerleader’s voice was, but this laugh reminded me of a cat getting hit by a car.

  Henry was absolutely unfazed by my greeting. He swaggered up to where Charlie and I stood, puffing out his chest like a peacock. “You’re looking good tonight, Roxy.”

  I arched my brows at him.

  Charlie sighed.

  “I’m looking good every night.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  He smirked as his gaze crawled over me, leaving behind a sensation of ants marching along my skin. It really was too bad he was such a pinhead, because he wasn’t bad to look at. “That’s true.” He passed a baleful glance at Charlie, and my spine stiffened. “So, what are you doing tonight?”

  “We’ve got—­”

  “I wasn’t talking to you.” Henry cut him off, and it truly was like I had an internal bitch switch inside me, and he’d just flipped it into the on position. “Why don’t you drop this homo and hang out with—­”

  “Excuse me?” I saw red. “What in the fuck did you just call him?”

  Charlie grabbed my arm. “Let it go. You know there’s no point in arguing with stupid.”

  There was no way in hell I was going to let it go.

  As I pulled myself out of the events of that night, I sat back and rubbed my palms along my cheeks, just below my glasses. Guilt coated my skin with clammy sweat. Lowering my hands, I stared at Charlie. His head was turned just slightly, like he was looking at me, but his gaze was focused over my shoulder, at the window.

  Let it go, he had said.

  If only I had listened.

  Friday night was busier than usual with just Nick and me behind the bar since Jax had taken the weekend off to visit Calla in Shepherdstown. Despite the fact I looked like a hot mess with my hair pulled up in a messy bun and wearing an old tank top that was about two sizes too big, I was grateful for the fact the night was flying by. Lack of sleep was catching up with me, and my already crappy mood was somewhere between “fuck me land” and “fuck off town.”

  As the night progressed, my mood veered sharply into “everything sucks city.” Normally Reece spent Friday nights at Mona’s. Maybe not the whole night, but he usually showed up by ten. His normal buds were here, at their table, but there was no sign of Reece, and I knew it was because of me.

  Dean showed up closer to eleven, and I was hiding from dealing with him on the other side of the bar. Nick was blocking him, and I don’t know what was said to Dean to make him leave around midnight, and I really didn’t care at the moment.

  Yeah, everything sucked right now.

  Keeping a smile plastered across my face was harder than it should have been as I mixed drinks and chatted with those at the bar. Staying focused on my job was the only thing getting me through the shift.

  That and the knowledge there was a huge bag of nachos at home that I was so going to make my bitch when I got off. I was going to smother them in Swiss cheese, nuke the bastards, and go to town.

  Sherwood, our temporary head cook in charge, had just come back from break when I turned to help the newest customer who managed to squeeze in at the bar.

  My mouth dropped open. Good God, what was up with tonight?

  Henry Williams stood in front of me, and he looked a little better than the last time I’d seen him. Like he might’ve gotten some sun. Good for him.

  “I just want to talk,” he said, voice barely audible over the music.

  I clenched the bottle of Jack so tightly I was surprised it didn’t explode. “I can’t believe you’re standing here,” I said dumbly.

  “I’ve been seeing Charlie.” He leaned in, and heat swept down the back of my neck. “I know he’s really bad and—­”

  “Don’t talk about him. Don’t even say his name.” I started to fling the bottle like I had the book, but even as my hand itched to let it fly and the need to make him hurt was almost all consuming, I didn’t do it.

  Somehow I had learned from the last time.

  A girl waved her hand, gaining my attention. Shooting Henry a hateful look, I took her order. Of course he was still there when I finished the cocktail.

  “Please, Roxy,” he started. “I really want—­”

  “Do you see how many fucks I have to give when it comes to what you want?” I spread my arms wide. “This many fucks.”

  Nick was suddenly there, hands planted on the bar top. “I think you really need to leave.”

  “I’m sorry.” Henry raised his hands, looking back and forth between us. “I’m not trying to cause any problems. I just want to talk to her. That’s all.”

  Anger swelled inside me so swiftly that when I opened my mouth, I thought I’d breathe fire. “I don’t want to see your face let alone talk to you.”

  “You heard the lady,” Nick said, raising his arm and pointing at the door. “Get out.”

  Henry looked like he was going to argue, but then shook his head. Reaching down, he pulled a small white square out of his pocket and placed it on the bar. He looked me dead-­on. “Call me. Please.”

  I glanced down at what turned out to be a business card with some kind of car on it and then back at him. He’d already turned away, making his way through the crowd. Before I could stop myself, I laughed. It was kind of crazy-­sounding, sort of like the noise a hyena made before it killed something.

  Nick reached for the card, but for some reason unknown to me, I grabbed the card. He arched a brow, but I shook my head as I slipped the card into my pocket.

  He lowered his head so he could speak into my ear. “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted, pulling back and looking at him. “I don’t know.”

  The rest of the shift
was uneventful. Instead of seeing Reece, who I secretly kept waiting to see come through the door, all I got was Dean, Henry Williams, two drunk chicks that had puked on the floor, and a guy who offered to buy me a drink and let me give him head.

  When I got home, I was too tired to worry about the weirdness that had been going on in my apartment. Placing my phone on the nightstand, I stripped down to my undies and unhooked the bra, leaving the tank top on since it could’ve doubled as a dress. Then I slinked into bed, tugging the covers up to my chin.

  Today . . . today sucked.

  Yesterday sucked.

  Tomorrow had to be better.

  That’s what I kept telling myself as I lay there, utterly exhausted. Tomorrow seriously had to be better. And truthfully? When everything first happened with Charlie, it had been worse than this—­the helplessness, the anger, the depression. All of it had been raw and razor sharp. I’d gotten through it. I’d get through whatever crap was happening right now, because what other option did I have? Curl up and give up? That wasn’t in my nature.

  I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep, but I must’ve, because I came awake all at once. No blinking the sleep out of my eyes. I was completely alert as I stared at the window across from my bed. I’d been dreaming. I didn’t remember what the dream entailed, but someone had been calling my name.

  Stretching my legs and arms, I glanced up at the nightstand. It wasn’t even five o’clock. I’d been asleep for an hour and a half tops. Fail.

  I was just about to flip onto my other side when I realized the backlight of my cell phone was on, like a text or a call had come through and it hadn’t moved into sleep mode yet.

  Jerking up, I snatched the cell phone, and with my heart in my throat, I hit the button. There was only one person who could’ve texted or called this late. Reece. Hope went off inside me like a cannon. Yeah, texting or calling at almost five in the morning wasn’t the greatest thing, but it was something and it was more than nothing.

  The screen came to life, I slid the little bar, unlocking it, and at first I didn’t know what I was seeing. I didn’t understand it, could not wrap my head around it.

  It wasn’t a text or a missed call.

  My hand began to shake.

  Unlocking the phone had taken me to the last program in use, which should’ve been nothing—­just the home screen. Except it wasn’t on the home screen. It opened to my camera roll—­my pictures.

  And there was a picture on the screen.

  A scream exploded in my stomach and crawled up my throat, but when I opened my mouth, there was no sound. Horror had closed my throat off. There was a picture on my phone, one I could’ve never taken, because it was of me.

  A picture of me sleeping.

  Chapter 17

  Fear and disbelief held me immobile as I stared at the picture of me sleeping. Somehow I registered that this picture was from tonight, because I could make out the dark blue straps and the pink strip that formed a bow on the straps of my tank top.

  Oh my God.

  The fear building inside me was like being doused with icy water. It sent my pulse racing and the only air I could get inside my lungs was in quick, shallow breaths as I launched off the bed. My bare feet slipped on the hardwood floors. I reached the bedroom door, throwing it open, and I raced down the short, narrow hall. I was at the front door when I realized whoever took that picture—­because it had to be a person since I doubted a ghost could do that—­could be outside.

  Oh my God.

  The person could still be inside.

  Panicked, I didn’t know what to do. Never in my life had I been in a situation like this. I backed away from the door and then spun around, running for the bathroom. Once inside, I locked the door and backed up until I knocked into the toilet. I sat down on the lid, struggling to breathe around the crushing pressure of the fear. I started to call the first person who came to mind.

  Reece.

  My finger was right over his contact when I stopped. What was the point in calling him? He wouldn’t answer. Close to tears, I started to call Jax but remembered he was out of town. Part of me recognized I wasn’t thinking right. I needed to call the police. Someone had been in my apartment while I slept. They could still be here. But my brain cells weren’t communicating with one another.

  I called Nick.

  He answered on the second ring. “Roxy?”

  “Did I wake you?” Stupid question, but that’s what came out of my mouth.

  “No. I haven’t gone to sleep yet. Are you okay?”

  Staring at the bathroom door, I pulled my legs up to my chest. A buzzing picked up in my ears, like I was sitting next to a hive of bees. “I . . . I think someone is in my place.”

  “What?” His voice came across as sharp as a whip.

  I drew in a shuddering breath and whispered, “I woke up and there was a picture of me on my phone—­a picture of me sleeping.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “I didn’t take the picture.” I inhaled deeply, but it got stuck. “There’s been all this weird stuff happening here. My dishwasher turned on while I wasn’t home. The remote in the fridge. Toilet seat left up and other stuff. I thought my place was haunted, but this—­I know someone—­a living, breathing someone—­had to do this.”

  “Jesus, Roxy, are the police on their way?” he demanded.

  “No. I didn’t call them.”

  There was a nanosecond of silence. “Did you call Reece?”

  “No.” I straightened, putting my toes on the cool tile. “I can’t call him. He—­”

  “Are you fucking out of your mind, girl? You need to call the police right now. Wait.” He sounded like he was moving. A door slammed shut. “Where are you?”

  “I’m in my bathroom.” I stood, pushing my hair back from my face. “I just wasn’t thinking. I woke up, saw the picture and panicked.”

  “I’m heading over to your place now and I’m calling Reece. He’s off on Fridays, right? He’ll ans—­”

  “Don’t call him. Please don’t call him.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “He isn’t . . . we aren’t really talking right now and I don’t want him . . . just don’t call him.” Truth was, I knew how crazy this was, how utterly bizarre it was to wake up and find a picture of myself on the phone. Someone could easily believe that I’d done it for attention, and the way things were with Reece right now, I didn’t want him to think that. “Are you there?”

  “Yes. I’m coming to you, but I need you to get off the phone and call the police. You need to do that right now,” he said, his voice calm as I heard an engine roar to life.

  “And you need to stay in that bathroom until you hear from me or the police. You understand?”

  I felt stupid for not calling the police immediately. “Okay. I’m going to call them now. I’m sorry—­”

  “Don’t apologize, Roxy. Call the police. I’ll be right there.”

  I did what I should’ve done immediately. I called the police. The dispatcher didn’t laugh hysterically in my ear when I told her that I’d woken up and found a picture of myself sleeping on the cell. She took my information, and stayed on the phone until Nick beeped in on the other line, letting me know he was outside.

  I had no idea how he got to my place so fast. The number of laws he had to have broken astonished me.

  Opening the bathroom door was the scariest thing I’d ever had to do. My entire body shook as I grabbed the doorknob. When I did, I expected to see a serial killer in a clown mask waiting for me, but the hall was empty. I ran to the door a second time.

  Nick came in, dressed like he’d been earlier at the bar. He barely looked at me as he took my free hand in his and started turning on the lights throughout the apartment. “Were you in your bedroom?”

  “Yes. I was in bed.” My voice cracked as I followed him on shaky legs.

 
He steered me toward the couch. “Stay here.” Reaching behind me, he tugged the quilt off the couch, draping it over my bare legs. It was then when I realized I was wandering around in my undies and tank top. “I’m going to check out your bedroom real quick, okay?”

  Numb, I tucked the blanket around my legs as I clutched my phone. The next several moments were surreal. The moment he left the room, I didn’t want to be alone. Getting up, I wrapped the blanket around me and found him just leaving my extra bedroom and heading into my main one.

  Nick sent me a look as he checked the window.

  “I don’t want to be by myself,” I admitted hoarsely. I didn’t want to be anywhere in the house alone.

  He nodded and then crossed the room, opening the closet door. I could hear hangers banging around. Then he turned to me. “Do you have some bottoms you can put on? I think the police are outside.”

  Flushing, I hurried to the dresser and pulled out a pair of cotton shorts. Nick started to leave the room. “Can you stay? Please?”

  Running a hand through his dark hair, he turned around, giving me privacy. “Jesus, Roxy, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so scared.”

  I dropped the blanket and pulled the shorts on with shaking hands. Then I picked the blanket up once more, holding it to my chest. I didn’t say anything as we went back out to the living room. I could see blue and red lights flashing outside.

  The officer who Nick let inside was around Reece’s age, and I vaguely recognized him. He came to the bar a ­couple of times with the guys. I thought he might be engaged or something. Without my glasses, I couldn’t make out his name. Luckily he introduced himself, saving me the trouble of figuring it out.

  Officer Hank Myers.

  Ah, yes. Hankie Hank. I remembered him. That was Katie’s nickname for him, and he wasn’t engaged. On second thought, I think he had the hots for Katie, because I was pretty sure he’d let her use him as a pole a ­couple of times at Mona’s.