“Hey, Evie,” Barnaby said, stopping and gave me a warm smile.
I gave him a crappy look in return and then punched him in the arm—hard. “Jerk!”
“Ow, Evie, what’d you do that for?” He rubbed his arm.
“What was in my drink, Barnaby?” I glared at him.
“Um, rum, assorted juices, a little bit of everything actually.” He shrugged and pushed his glasses up.
“What else?”
“Um,” he paused. “I did inject the cherries with grain,” he said. “Why? Did you eat one?”
“Well, yeah,” I snapped. “I was starving.” Crossing my arms, I gave him what I hoped was a stern look. “What kind of drugs did you slip in my drink?”
He swung his head around. “Nothing—I mean it had a ton of alcohol, but no drugs, promise.”
“Right,” I scoffed, not believing a word of his bullshit.
“I swear,” he said. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Evie.” He dropped the handle to the wagon and brushed off his hands. “Actually, I stopped messing in that shit a while ago.” He shoved his hand into his front pocket and pulled out my car keys. “Thanks for letting me use your car.” He handed them to me.
I snatched the keys from his hand.
“I got your window fixed for you.”
I was so mad that it took a moment for what he said to sink in. “What? No way! How’d you do that?”
He lifted his hand and pushed his curls back from his face. “A friend of my cousin works over at the garage on the outskirts of town. He had an extra window that would fit your car and he installed it for me.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, even though his cousin really had to hook him up for it. He owed him big now.
“Wow, Barnaby. That was really sweet of you. You didn’t have to do that.” Now I felt bad now for accusing him of drugging me.
“Puh-lease…it was no big deal.” He shrugged. “Thanks for letting me borrow your wheels.” He gave me a lopsided grin, and then turned quickly back towards the stage as one of the last pieces was thrown into place.
I took a breath, not sure what to think. I was so sure he had put some kind of drug in my drink that made me imagine everything. “So, you really didn’t put anything in my drink that would make me, like, see things that weren’t real?” I suddenly didn’t feel so good.
He barked out a laugh. “Ah…no!” His hazel eyes twinkled under the clear lenses of his glasses as he shoved his hands back into his front pockets. The wind tossed his black curls back and forth. His eyes turned serious. “Evie, are you all right?”
I shook my head. It was obvious he didn’t know what I was talking about. My mind was spinning. So if he didn’t put anything into my drink, did all that shit really happen? I felt even sicker than I had moments before.
“Evie, you okay?” He stepped forward, his expression worried.
“It’s just, I thought…” I shook my head, unable to voice my biggest fear.
“What?”
“Just some weird stuff happened and …”
“What kind of stuff?” His eyes narrowed. “Did Colton do something to you?” his voice came out harsh, like he was mad. He dipped his head down to look at me. “Wait…did he do that to your face?”
“Oh God, no!” I shook my head and opened my mouth to speak again, but suddenly felt like it was too much to relay. Besides, what would I say? “Nah, it was fine,” I lied. “He left me here, though.”
“What the hell!” He shook his head and shoved his hand through his hair. “Damn, I’m sorry Evie. If I had known, I would’ve come back with your car.”
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
“Still…”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m still alive…see.” I wiggled my brows and made a stupid face.
“God, you’re so awesome,” he laughed and then froze. He suddenly looked like he had just stepped on a landmine and if he lifted his foot he would blow to bits.
I pushed his arm. “So are you,” I teased, smiling.
“Right, yeah,” he laughed. “I am pretty awesome.”
“Yeah, you are.”
He stared at me and I felt like he wanted to say more and what that something might be I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. So instead, I blurted out something else, something I couldn’t even begin to imagine asking anyone in a million years. “So what do you know about gargoyles?”
“Gargoyles?” he asked for clarification and gave me an odd look.
I nodded.
“Ah…you mean like stone creatures that are stuck to the side of buildings?” He blew out a slow stream of air.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Huh? Decoration maybe?” He shrugged. “Oh and I think they were used to divert water from buildings back in the day, too,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
“Have you ever heard anything about them coming…alive?”
He let out a whoop of laughter. “You’re a trip.” He lifted his eyes to mine and swallowed back another peel of laughter. “You serious?”
“Yeah,” I told him, feeling queasy. “It’s crazy-weird…right?” I scrunched up my face, feeling stupid for saying anything.
“Ummm…” He trailed off and suddenly looked fascinated with the dirt around his foot. “I guess so, but I haven’t really heard anything.” He glanced up at me.
“It’s okay.” My cheeks heated. He probably thought I was some weird freak.
“You know what,” he said. “I can ask my mom. She really digs that kind of stuff, so, if you want, I can ask her if she has heard any legends or lore on them.”
“Really?” I grabbed his arm. “You would do that for me?”
He shook his head eagerly.
“Oh Barnaby, that would be awesome.”
“Anytime,” he said and put his hand on top of mine.
His fingers were warm. I looked up at him. His hazel eyes sparkled as he smiled down at me. “Ah…I guess I should…” I pulled my hand out from under his.
“Hold on a sec.” He pulled out his phone. “I can call her.”
I was about to tell him not to bother but who knew, maybe he had better service.
He punched the keypad. “Dammit!” He shook his head. “Well, I would’ve called, but the cell reception here sucks.”
“Tell me about it.”
“You know what…” he began. “I need to go back to town to pick up a few more things. I can ask her then if you want.”
“Really?” I asked with a bit too much gusto by the expression on his face. I tried to cover and stomped down on a dry leaf.
“Sure.” The edges of his lips lifted into a slight smile.
“You’re the best, Barnaby.” Stepping forward, I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a big hug.
He reached around and hugged me back. Momentarily we stood there, pressed against each other.
I didn’t realize how muscular he was until this very moment and he smelled really nice too.
He cleared his throat awkwardly.
I pulled away, feeling strangely unsettled.
“No problem.” He grinned. “Anything for you,” he said. “I mean…you know…if I can help.”
“Sure.” I cleared my throat. “I really appreciate it.”
“Okay then,” he exhaled. “Let me just drop this off, then I’ll go.” He took a step and then stopped. “You wanna come with?”
“Ohmigod yes!” I over-enthused. “I mean, ah…” I tried to backtrack, but it was already too late.
Barnaby smiled wider and the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Sure, no problem,” he said. “But…” He paused.
“Yes?”
“Do you mind if I borrow your wheels again?”
“Hey, you fixed my window, of course you can.”
“Sweet!” he said and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Once I drop this off…” He gestured to the wagon. “We can split.”
“God, I look horrible.”
“I think you look great.” His face reddene
d.
I felt like mine was on fire. “Aw, thanks,” I said in a pitch too high. “You’re so nice.”
“Not really,” he said. “It’s the truth.” His eyes met mine and for a fleeting minute, something passed between us.
He recovered first and cleared his throat. “Give me a minute to drop this off and then we can split.”
“Cool. I gotta let Moriah know I’m leaving so she doesn’t have heart failure,” I said and gave him another small smile. “I’ll meet you back here in a few?”
“Sure.” He gave me another lopsided grin. “See you in a few.” He pulled the wagon across the road and stopped to fist-bump one of the guys setting up the stage. The pretty girl, the one from earlier, slid over to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and gave him a big boob-squishing hug. He easily lifted her off the ground and swung her around, making the muscles in his arms bulge.
I stood there stupidly gawking.
Wow.
He was strong and kind-of hot. How did I never notice before? I pulled my eyes away, not sure where that had come from. As I turned to leave, an overwhelming feeling came over me that I was being watched. I turned back toward the house and looked up. Far in the corner, at the topmost part of the roofline, I could swear I saw someone crouching down. Closing my eyes, I shook my head and looked again. Whatever I thought I saw was now gone.
“I need a drink.” Apparently being sober wasn’t agreeing with me today.
21-PREOCCUPIED
The ride back to town was uneventful.
“I’ll be back in an hour,” Barnaby said and put the car in park. We were behind the coffee house. The stairs that led to my apartment were off to the side. Hanna’s little car was parked in back too. There was more parking in front but I wanted to save those spots for the customers.
“You sure you don’t mind talking to your mom without me?”
“It’s not a problem,” he assured me.
“I really appreciate it,” I told him with meaning.
“You gonna tell me why you’re so interested in gargoyles suddenly?” He lifted his brow in question.
“Um, sure,” I lied. “I’ll tell you on the ride back.”
“All right,” he sighed. He didn’t look like he believed me. Well tough. I wasn’t sure what to believe, anyway.
Reaching out, I grabbed the handle.
“Evie,” he said.
I turned.
“You sure you’re all right?”
“Yep,” I said. “I’m good.” I opened the door and stepped out.
“See you in about an hour.” He put the car in drive.
“Okay.” I shut the door and waited for him to pull out of the parking lot. Once he did, I hit the stairs and ran up to my apartment. Unlocking the door, I stepped inside and slammed it shut. My bed was torn to shit, which meant Moriah must have come here with Kingston last night. Great.
I peeled off my clothes and jumped in the shower. If he was coming back in an hour that didn’t give me much time to get ready.
It took two applications and a complete comb-through with conditioner in my hair to get all the tangles out.
The warm spray from the shower felt good on my aching everything and I was reluctant to get out until the water turned cold. Reaching over, I turned off the faucet. The water spit for a few seconds more before it finally released down into the tub. The plastic fish curtain stuck to my hand as I pushed it aside and grabbed my Balboa Island Jaws towel off the rack. It wasn’t really jaws, it was just a big-ass shark hidden in the waves about to chomp a surfer in half. It was still my favorite. No matter how many times it went through the washer and dryer it stayed soft while the rest of my towels felt like cardboard. It was one of those unsolved mysteries.
After I toweled off, I inspected my body for damage. A pretty nasty purple bruise was on my right side and my right knee. Lifting my foot, I placed it on the rim of the tub. There were more bruises around my ankle which were darker, almost black in color. Surprisingly, none of them hurt too badly. Tightening my towel more firmly under my arms, I walked over to the sink and with the palm of my hand I wiped the fog off the mirror.
Perfect.
The entire right side of my face was riddled with color. It looked like I had fallen asleep on a pile of jellybeans.
“Evie takes a licking and keeps on ticking,” I muttered out in a deep announcer voice and then laughed. Things had to be pretty bad for me to start quoting a damn battery commercial. “This is probably the first sign of starvation—ignorant commercial imitation.”
My phone buzzed.
Sliding across the damp tiles, I raced from the bath and grabbed up my phone.
Barnaby: LEAVING IN A FEW
“Shoot!” Throwing my phone on my bed, I darted across the room to find something to wear.
Somehow, someway, I dried my hair and slapped on my makeup—in record time. Out of the pile of clothes I had stacked on my reading chair in the corner, I pulled out a similar jean skirt to the one I wore last night. This one had some painted graffiti on it, compliments of moi, which made it look way cooler than the “Plainy Jane” one I was wearing earlier. At least I hoped it did. Grabbing a shirt, I stuck with the “Bs.” Basic black to make my boobs look bigger than they actually are, baby-doll t-shirt, and tossed my Zombie Killing hoodie beside my monster tote to take with me when I left. I’d be a walking conundrum with my Zombie Killing hoodie and my Zombie-green pinky finger, from my bubblegum ring. Oh well, I could care less. I liked them both.
Standing in the center of my room, I chewed on my thumbnail contemplating what shoes to wear. I could either wear my Chucks or my lace-up Combat boots. I couldn’t decide, so I tossed them both up on the bed and went over to the fridge to see if I had any food to eat—fast. The light crackled on inside as I opened the door. It reminded me a gas station bathroom light with all the crackling and popping and the low funky hum. A lone box of dried up Chinese takeout rice sat beside a bottle of Snapple peach green tea.
“No food for you” I told my growling stomach like “the soup Nazi” from an old rerun of Seinfeld .
“Oh well,” I sighed. Hopefully, Barnaby wouldn’t mind stopping to get a burger. Grabbing the bottle off the shelf, I kicked the door shut and twisted off the cap. The metal top made a popping sound. That’s what I loved about Snapple. The snappy little pop the top made and well, the taste. Hmm, I wondered if that is why they called it Snapple…or not. Taking a sip, I walked over to my bed and sat down. I picked up my phone, expecting a text from Barnaby but there was still no message. It would seem his ‘few’ were apparently in hours, not minutes.
For some reason, the inactivity and indecisiveness over my shoes made me think of Colton. Probably because I was wondering if they would look lame—he was a lame-ass. Yep. It made perfect sense.
My mind strayed back to the guy I met last night. He was so…it was hard to put into words. Opening my nightstand, I pulled out my sketchbook and pencils and settled the pad on my lap. Reaching forward, I plugged my iPod into a little cube speaker on my nightstand. In the End by Black Veil Brides blared throughout the room. The song reached the chorus and a tremor flitted over me and made me feel uneasy…strange.
“Must be lack of food,” I tried to reason and balled my hands up to stop them from shaking. I felt really jittery…anxious—like something was about to happen. Flashes of “the guy” from the night before loomed on the periphery of my memory. Opening my sketchbook, I lifted my pencil and closed my eyes, remembering the tattoo. In fast, easy strokes, my hand flew over the vellum.
No longer in the here and now, my mind went to a place where the moon cast a bluish hue on everything as fog rolled across the gravel drive, cloaking everything underneath in a thick mist.
In a trance, my mind saw far more than I remembered. The statue came back into focus; my hand moved of its own accord as my memory conjured the pictures I was sketching.
Images zipped through my mind: first the attack, followed by the inescapable fe
eling of fear. Seeing him as well, the erratic sound of my heart grew louder, but it was from a very different emotion. My hand slowed and dragged across the page as another image jumped into my mind: same moon, same color, different time. My mind skewed, going back to him…his mouth on my own, the way his body felt in my arms. Erratically, my hand jerked over the page.
Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. It was like a weight was pressing against my chest and I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs.
Gasping for breath, I fell backward onto the bed. The image of his beautiful face came vividly back into focus and warmth spread through me.
“Shhh, it’s going to be all right.” The words vibrated in my mind, pulling me back from the suffocating despair. Shivering I held onto the feeling, not wanting it to fade away.
A loud buzzing cut in.
With a snap, my eyes opened. Sitting up, I rubbed my head, feeling out-of-it. Leaning over, I picked up my phone. My sketchbook slipped and fell to the floor.
Barnaby: BE THERE IN FIVE.
With shaking hands, I shoved my phone in my pocket and stood. I felt woozy, really drained. “What am I forgetting?”
My phone buzzed again and I pulled it out of my pocket.
Barnaby: IM HERE
Quickly, I texted him back.
Me: ON MY WAY
Pulling on my socks and my lace-up boots, I stood again and tossed my Chucks in my bag, just in case. My sketchbook was lying upside down on the floor. For some reason I didn’t want to see what I had drawn. Without looking, I picked it up and tossed it back into my nightstand. Once it was out of sight, I felt much better. Slamming the drawer shut, I left my apartment and went to meet Barnaby.
Briarcliff Page 10
