Damien brought me my food items as I packed up the laptop, consoling me with promises of what he’d do to Jake’s drink if he ever bothered showing up again. By the time I made it outside, the air had turned cooler and clouds darkened the sky. I walked around to the back parking lot.
“I think they saw us come in together,” Jake said, by way of greeting, as I struggled to climb up into the truck with full hands
“Oh, hey. Hello. I’m doing great, thanks for asking, Jake.”
He leaned across the seat and took both the coffee and the cinnamon roll from my hands before helping me up. “Hi, Hayden. This will come as a bit of a shock to you, but you stick out like a sore thumb.”
I snapped the seat belt into the buckle. “I do not! I was inconspicuous.”
He put the truck in reverse just as the first drops of rain began to fall on the windshield. “You were about as inconspicuous as a beer vendor at an AA meeting. And what the fuck was that cat food conversation?”
“You told me to be myself!” I bit out.
“Yeah,” he agreed before merging into traffic. “That was a mistake.”
“You coming back to life was a mistake,” I muttered to the passenger side window.
He prodded. “C’mon, Hayden. Surely you know that this operation failed miserably?”
Why couldn’t he have been hideous? At least then the exterior would’ve matched the interior.
“Any good stalker worth their salt is gonna stake out the parking lot. So, probably. Maybe. Alright, fine. Yes. There’s a very good chance that if someone was watching, they probably saw us together. It’s mostly my fault.”
“Mostly?” Jake asked, with a quirked brow.
“Yeah, I wasn’t thinking this morning and I put on my oil spray.”
He stopped at a red light and turned toward me. “You put on oil spray.” His speech was slow and measured like I’d suddenly stopped speaking English. “What does that mean exactly?”
“Oh, I’m an empath, so if I don’t use my spray every morning, I am drained by lunch. You know, it gets way too people-y out there.”
Instead of agreeing, Jake signaled and pulled into a gas station. “Hayden, I didn’t understand two words of what you just said. What the fuck is an empath and how does oil spray factor into this investigation?”
Seriously? What planet was he living on that he didn’t know about oils and empaths?
“My spray repels negative energy, so it’s a protective measure. It blocks any energy attacks and keeps me running on a full tank. It’s vital when I’m in writing mode.”
His eyebrows lifted. “So, let me get this straight; the spray kept the stalker away?”
“Not exactly,” I admitted with a sigh. “I have my crystals too. I swear, I didn’t even think about it being a problem. It’s just a habit to keep them in my purse. I mean, it’s not like I typically go out in search of negativity.”
He shook his head. “So, the crystals and sprays keep you safe from the bad people?”
Finally.
“Yes,” I nodded happily. “And, with the work that you do, you could really benefit from it. I’d start small. Maybe keep some black tourmaline in your truck and house. Oh, amethyst would be a good one for you; they work as both a protector and a stress reliever. It’d definitely make things more bearable for you at work. Hematite’s another—”
“Sweetheart, there’s not enough oils and crystals in the world to make some people bearable. Do you catch what I’m saying?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but only managed a growl. The back of my eyelids burned, and I knew that if I tried to talk, it’d just come out as a sob. That, in turn, would just freak Jake out completely.
I hated that about myself. Other people got mad and spoke their minds. Me? I cried and babbled incoherently.
Aaris once informed me that I got ‘wet angry.’ According to her, the majority of my emotions, including anger, were expressed through tears. Aaris? She was in a separate category known as ‘dry angry.’ She expressed her anger like anger—it both amazed and scared the hell out of me.
We drove in silence for about ten minutes before he asked, “What are you thinking?”
I turned away from watching the raindrops race each other across the window to answer. “I was just thinking that thirty stories wasn’t high enough.”
Nine
“Do you think you’re safe?” Aaris asked as she looked across the complex from my balcony.
The calls and texts to me had begun shortly after she woke up to see an entire crew of men in my apartment. In hindsight, I probably should’ve given her a head’s up, but I could barely wrap my own mind around it. She’d offered to come over and spend the afternoon with me, effectively saving me from Jake.
“I don’t know.” I shifted the laptop on my legs and pulled the blanket up higher. It had rained on and off most of the day, leaving a damp chill in the air. It wasn’t really balcony weather anymore, but Jake’s presence seemed to fill the entire apartment, forcing me to make the best of it outside. It also helped that I’d been high since we got back from the coffeehouse.
Aaris pulled her own blanket up under her chin, tucking her arms inside. “What if it’s him?”
“What do you mean?”
She glanced back through the brand new sliding glass door before lowering her voice. “I just think it’s coincidental that you’ve never had anything like this happen before, but he shows up and suddenly you’ve got a deranged stalker?”
It was suspicious timing, but hadn’t Jake been just as thrown as I was when it happened?
“I don’t understand the benefit of destroying my door, only to have to buy another. On top of that, the security system he put in can’t be cheap.” I looked up at the solid green light on the camera mounted in the corner.
She leaned across her chair. “Hayden, he got you to agree to bring him back into the story. It’s what he came here for, right? He makes a demand, you refuse, and then your door has a brick thrown through it. I don’t know; it just seems like he’s the only one benefitting from this.”
I closed my laptop, deciding to give up any pretense of writing. “He did offer to keep me safe in exchange for his life,” I reminded her.
“Safe from who exactly? Him?” she hissed. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but just promise me that you’ll be careful. If you need to stay at my place, you can.”
I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. Don’t you need to get to work?”
Aaris burrowed deeper into the blanket with a soft groan. “Yes, but I’m stalling for as long as possible. Have you thought about reaching out to the police?”
I laughed softly. “And tell them what exactly? That a fictional detective is holding me hostage until I rewrite my story? Promise me you’ll come visit me in my newly padded room at the psych ward.”
“I’m serious. I don’t trust this guy. His motives are questionable and you gotta go where the money leads.”
I leaned forward with a frown. “What does that mean exactly? Go where the money leads?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seemed like something that a detective would say. I guess you need to look at who benefits the most from this ‘attack.’ Spoiler alert—it’s him.”
That was it.
The key to solving Jake’s murder lay in my ability to determine who would benefit the most from his demise. It seemed simple enough, but a man like Jake had plenty of enemies.
Aaris patted my leg through the blanket. “Just think about what I’ve said. And you better call me if anything else happens. I don’t want to drop dead of a heart attack, thinking someone killed you; or worse—that you’d been evicted.”
My lips inched up into a slight smile. “Yes, that would be much worse.”
She stood up and stretched. “It would be. I’d have to drive to visit you for girl’s night and then I’d have to stay the night because you know I’d be too drunk to drive myself. At least if you were dead, I c
ould just move your ashes into my apartment and then we’d always be together. Just a little pour of top-shelf liquor in your urn and it’d be like old times.”
I moved my laptop to the small stone table beside my chair and wrapped her up in a hug. “I love you, you psychopath. I’ll try to not get evicted while you’re at work.”
“Love you too. I’ll text you tomorrow when I’m up.” She gave me a worried look, prettily packaged in a close-mouthed smile.
“I work tomorrow, but I’ll text you when I’m off.”
She slid the door open and walked right past Jake and Bootsy as if they were invisible. I envied her dry angry skills before returning to my now cold chair.
I couldn’t stay outside forever. Eventually, I was going to have to go inside. I’d been ignoring him since we’d gotten back to my apartment and, somewhere over the span of a few hours, it had become a game.
Neither one of us was willing to crack first though. Jake had slipped once but covered it by finishing his thought to Bootsy.
As if she gave a damn whether he ordered dinner or not.
I was feeling strong though. I had a book to write, so I could technically go weeks without needing to interact with the world around me. I’d done it before.
Aaris had once found me at my computer in food-stained clothing and unwashed hair, mumbling about the mob being after Jake.
I slipped another gummy from my pocket and popped it into my mouth. Maybe that had been the problem. I’d been trying to write sober. Any minute now, Laura was going to re-emerge from her hiding spot and start giving me the story.
I browsed my social media while I waited for inspiration and my high to kick in. I scrolled past the posts from people I knew in high school, bragging about the intelligent or funny thing their kid had done.
Big deal.
Bootsy did funny and intelligent things all the time. It didn’t mean I needed to post about it though.
Several posts referred to some vague incident that no one but the poster would know anything about and I rolled my eyes as I scrolled past them. Almost every other post was related to book releases, and I felt the smallest twinge of envy.
It came so easy for them. A new release every month that soared to the top of the charts while I struggled to even get my words onto the computer.
Speaking of people who never seemed to have to try, there was a new post from the King of Fuckersville himself, my brother, Reid. If that wasn’t an indication that it wasn’t my night, then I didn’t know what was.
Apparently, he was spending the long weekend in Chicago with his perfect girlfriend Emily, judging by the obnoxious ChiTown and Windy City hashtags. I exited the page and stared at the blank screen in frustration.
When was it my turn?
The door opened and Jake stepped out and I resisted the urge to look up at the stars and shake my fist. Thanks, universe. A simple never would’ve done the job just fine.
“I brought you some water.”
And I was the winner of the quiet game. I took it from his hand, placing it next to the chair without a word. He may have forfeited, but I was still very committed to not speaking to him. Instead of taking the hint, he sat down in the other chair and stared at me.
“What?” I finally asked without looking up from my screen.
“It’s cold out here. Wouldn’t you rather be inside?”
“You were inside, so, no.” I met his gaze. “Just admit that you came out here to smoke.”
He smirked. “I don’t smoke. That shit’ll kill you.”
“But, but,” I spluttered. “I wrote you as a smoker.”
“And I’m a good actor. I only inhaled when you specifically wrote it. Otherwise, fake it ‘til you make it, right?”
I frowned. It wasn’t right. Everything else I’d written had proven to be true; how could he not be a chain smoker? He’d picked up the habit after spending time with one of the veteran detectives. A detective who had a pack a day habit.
“What about Sergeant Strauss? He was your mentor until that street gang in False Evidence took him out. One wrong turn and he was gone forever. You were promoted to take his place and you smoke because it reminds you of him—”
His lips looked like they were caught in a tug of war between a smirk and a pout when he interrupted. “Well, he’s still around and I see him from time to time. Oh, and he’s not a smoker either. Are you okay, Hayden? You look like I just told you Santa’s not real.”
“I thought you had to be just like I wrote you,” I responded weakly.
He kicked his feet up on the balcony railing, obviously confident that it wasn’t going to give way, dragging him over the edge to his second death.
“Think of it like this; you watch movies, right?” I nodded and he continued. “Okay, so you see a movie where your favorite actor has an American accent, but you know he’s British. It’s just an act.”
I thought about it. “But, that doesn’t explain the sugar thing! You used two and a half packets exactly. And then the thing with my neighbor; you did exactly what I thought you would!”
He moved his hand down, urging me to lower my voice. “I’m sitting in the same zip code as you, there’s really no need to yell.”
I covered my mouth. I hadn’t realized I wasn’t speaking normally. Just like I was starting to lose track of how long we’d been having this conversation. It felt like years.
“To address your concerns, some of what you’re seeing is my mannerisms. There’s a difference. So, yes, you might see me do some things, but it doesn’t mean you know me.”
Well, that was a slap in the face. I gave life to this asshole, but you’d think he’d just done it himself. Ungrateful prick. If this was what parenting was like, then I had no plans to ever sign up.
I crossed my arms over my chest and gave a condescending smile. “Well, thank you so much for enlightening me, Detective. It’s been a real pl—”
“Are you high, Hayden?” Jake leaned closer to me, studying my face intently.
Instead of boldly telling him to fuck off, I found the neighboring building interesting.
“Hayden,” he warned before standing up.
“No.” My voice cracked, suddenly becoming high-pitched.
Jake moved into my line of vision, guiding my eyes back toward his with his hand on my jaw. “Look at me.” I did and he sighed. “Your eyes are bloodshot. Did Aaris bring you drugs?”
I refused to answer, instead watching him warily, like an animal caught in a trap.
His fingers moved down to my wrist and I jerked my hand back.
“Calm down. I’m not getting the cuffs. I just wanna check your pulse.” He reached for me again and I reluctantly let him take it. “It’s fast. You wanna tell me what you took? You don’t smell like it so I know you weren’t smoking.”
He smelled me?
I briefly wondered if my scent had affected him on an emotional level. Maybe he was fighting his own biological reactions and the urge to screw my brains out against the new door. Perhaps if I said nothing and just continued to blink at him, he’d act on those urges.
His eyes narrowed and he knelt down in front of me. “Hayden?”
Blink.
Blink.
This one was hitting me harder than the others had. I felt all floaty. It wasn’t a bad feeling; just different.
I really should’ve eaten dinner.
“Why’d you come out here? Haven’t you done enough today?” I was mad, but my words sounded sleepy.
Jake rocked back on his heels. “I brought you water, remember?”
“But, that’s not why you came out.” I realized I was shaking my head too much and worked to stop it.
“You’re right,” he admitted. “I came out because you don’t have any holistic cat food. I checked.”
A giggle burst from my lips. “Why, were you hungry? Did you need an all-natural snack?”
His lip curled up in disgust. “What? No, I just meant that I’ve looked all over your
apartment and you don’t have one thing with the word holistic in it. You’re full of shit.”
“Wow. Hey everyone, Detective Hopkins here can’t figure out who wants me dead, but at least he knows what my cat’s eating!”
Jake clapped a hand over my mouth. “Jesus, Hayden. Lower your voice. Why’d you lie to that guy?”
I stared pointedly at him until he lowered his hand. “That guy? You mean, Damien? Why do you care?”
“I don’t.” This time he looked anywhere but at me.
He so did.
“You do. Why?” It was just cat food, surely he wasn’t going to shame me for choosing not to spend more on the cat than I did myself.
His eyes met mine and even with him kneeling in front of me, we were roughly the same height. The amber in his eyes appeared softer, muted by the dim light streaming out from the living room.
“You lied to Damien. Who’s to say you’re not lying to me?”
And there it was. His biggest fear was that I’d screw him over. It didn’t speak highly of my character.
I took my glasses off and put them on the table before massaging my eyelids. “Look, Jake. I didn’t buy the food, okay? It was crazy expensive. I didn’t want to have to find a new coffee shop, so I told a little white lie.”
He pursed his lips and nodded. “Lying was easier than just telling him that?”
I sighed. “He’s like really into giving his cats the best of everything and thinks that anyone who doesn’t isn’t fit to own one. It was either lie or endure shaming every time I needed to get out of the house to write. And I really like that coffee shop the best.”
Jake stood up to stretch his legs before moving back into his chair. “Do you really think his cats are more connected to him spiritually?”
I snorted and shook my head. “I have no idea. Maybe?”
“Well, I guess you’ll never know,” he said with a grin.
“It’s definitely my loss.” Another giggle slipped out and I paused to consider whether it was from him or the gummy.
Probably the gummy.
“How’s uh, how’s it going with Laura?” he asked, suddenly looking intent again.
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