He Looked Back

by Hollandaise, Melissa

  Be careful what you wish for, Dylan said in the elevator. What was that supposed to mean?

  I wait another fifteen minutes before chewing on my lip and standing from the bench.

  I guess I'm walking home.

  Damn it. Why did I wear heels today?

  Why do I wear heels every day? Stupid.

  I think of the route home in my head and start walking. My shoes click against the cold pavement.

  I hear yelling off in the distance. I flinch at the obscenity of the words and continue walking.

  I round a corner and sigh, pulling up the GPS on my phone and typing in my address. Hopefully it won't be much further away.

  I hear movement behind me but ignore it. It's probably just someone else walking home. London streets are much more dangerous than Edinburgh streets. Why should I be worried?

  I hear something shift again and turn around, my eyes scanning the empty street. My eyes land on the alley I followed Dylan into that one day. Fear starts to build inside of me and I start to walk again, faster this time.

  There's no one there.

  There's no one there.

  There's no one the--

  Someone catches my wrist and slams me back against a brick building. My breath hitches in my throat and I gasp at the harsh impact of body on stone.

  Two guys stand before me, the streetlight bathing them in eerie, dim light. One has blonde hair and blue eyes, arms crossed over his chest. The other I recognize as the brown haired boy that met with Dylan in the alleyway.

  "Got you," the brown haired one says, a half smile tugging at his lips.

  I want to scream but my voice is mute in my throat.

  "Katie, is it?" The blonde one asks. "What a lovely name."

  "How do you know my name?" I ask, furrowing my brow.

  "We know a lot of things, Katie." The brown haired one begins to pace, his dark blue eyes reflecting in the light. He doesn't seem much older than me; neither of them do.

  "How much did he tell you?" The blonde one asks gruffly.

  "Who?"

  "Don't play dumb, Katie," he says. "What did Wilson tell you?"

  "Dylan?"

  "You heard me."

  "He--he hasn't told me anything."

  "Don't lie. Lying won't get you anywhere," the brown haired one sneers.

  "Who are you?" I ask.

  "We'll be asking the questions," he snaps.

  "Oh, come on, mate," the blonde one says teasingly. "She should at least know our names."

  The brown haired one smiles. "All right," he says. "I'm William, and that's Ethan," he says, his eyes mean. "Now that we're all acquainted, let's get down to business."

  I swallow. "What do you want?"

  "We want to know what Wilson told you," Ethan says.

  "He hasn't told me anything," I say, my voice surprisingly strong. "I don't even like him. I hate him."

  The two look at each other and laugh. "Then why'd he take you home the other day?" Ethan asks.

  "I needed a ride," I say. "That's all."

  William steps toward me, his eyes menacing. "Let me tell you something, Katie," he says lowly. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Either way, you're talking."

  More screams fight to get out of me, but I stay paralyzed. I should have called for a different ride. I shouldn't have walked.

  "I don't have any information, I'm telling the truth," I protest. "Just let me go home."

  "Sorry, Katie, we can't let that happen," William says, crossing his arms over his chest. "Now tell me," he says through gritted teeth. "What did Wilson tell you?"

  I want to scream and call for help, but my body doesn't let me and I remain petrified. My head pounds from being slammed into the wall and I feel like I'm going to pass out.

  Suddenly, a car screeches to a halt at the curb. Someone gets out quickly.

  "Hey!" Dylan shouts, slamming the door to his car. I stare in disbelief as Ethan and William turn on him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  "What did you tell her, Wilson?" Ethan snarls at Dylan.

  "I haven't told her anything," Dylan snaps. "Leave her alone; she knows nothing."

  "Then why have we seen her with you so much?" William sneers.

  "I was doing her a favor," Dylan replies.

  "Alec is wondering about you," Ethan says. "You didn't show up last night."

  "I couldn't. I was busy."

  "Enough excuses. You either show up tomorrow night, or you're out," William snaps. "Get your shit together, or she's in trouble." William points to me and I widen my eyes.

  "She has nothing to do with this," Dylan says. He must be freezing in only his t-shirt. I see more tattoos that dot his arms in the dim light. "I barely even know her. Leave her out of this."

  "She knows more than you think she does," Ethan says.

  "What the hell do you mean?" Dylan's shoulders tense.

  "She saw you talking to Alec last week," Ethan goes on. "She followed you."

  Dylan looks to me and I shrink back against the wall. His gazes burns like fire.

  "It doesn't matter," Dylan says, looking back at Ethan. "Leave her alone. She barely knows her way around Edinburgh."

  "Fine," William snaps. "But if Alec finds out she knows anything, you're both in deep shit." He nods to Ethan and the two walk away, sending Dylan a final glare. They disappear into an alley, leaving only Dylan and I.

  I stay against the wall, processing what just happened. My head pounds and my breath falls rapidly.

  Dylan stares at the ground a few seconds, the wind blowing harshly. He chews on his lip, as if debating something.

  Why did he stand up for me? How did he even know where I was? Who are those guys, and what do they want?

  Dylan finally snaps up, walking back to his car. "Get in," he says coldly.

  I don't argue as I hurry to the passenger side. The warmth from the car engulfs me as I lean back in the leather seats.

  "Did they hurt you?" Dylan asks as we drive.

  I shake my head. I know he's mad about me following him the other day, and I can't say I blame him. I would be furious if our roles were reversed.

  "Are you all right?" He asks.

  I nod.

  "Are you going to talk?"

  I swallow, my throat dry. I don't know what to say to him, I've never experienced an encounter quite like that in my life.

  Dylan matches my silence as we drive along the empty streets. My heart pounds loudly, still recovering from former events.

  Dylan sighs. "Why did you follow me that day?" His voice is oddly calm and contained as he breaks the steady silence.

  I look at my lap. "I don't know," I say. "You left in such a hurry, I--"

  "You are not to follow me ever again, do you understand?" His tone quickly turns venomous.

  "I'm sorry," I whisper.

  Dylan exhales slowly. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel and takes his bottom lip between his teeth. I can practically see his mind racing.

  I chew on my lip. "Thank you," I say quietly. "For showing up."

  Dylan nods.

  "How did you know I was there?" I ask. I have so many questions for him. I don't even know where to start.

  "I didn't," he says. "I was driving back to Crane."

  "Why?"

  Dylan takes an exasperated breath, eyes flicking over to me briefly. "I...I wanted to apologize," he says quietly. "For yelling at you earlier."

  I blink. I've never heard Dylan apologize before. "Oh."

  "Yeah." He clears his throat. "So...sorry. For saying those things."

  I nod. An awkward silence descends and I quickly break it.

  "How did you know I was at Crane?"

  "You weren't home, so I figured..."

  "Oh."

  Dylan turns a corner. The wind continues to whistle outside.

  "Can I ask you a question and will you be completely honest with me?" I ask Dylan.

  "All right," he says hesitantly.

  "A
m I in danger?"

  He pulls into the lot of our building, stopping in a parking space. "If I'm being honest," he says. "Then...you're not completely safe."

  My breathing accelerates. My bottom lip trembles and I hold back tears. What would have happened to me if Dylan hadn't shown up? If they saw Dylan take me home, do they know where I live? What the hell have I gotten into?

  "Don't cry, Katie," Dylan says, taking in my expression. His eyes soften as he reaches over the center console and touches my arm lightly. "I'll do what I can to make sure you're safe, all right?" His voice is soothing, much like it was the first day James forgot me.

  I nod and take a few shaky breaths.

  Dylan looks at me a moment longer before getting out of the car. I step out, too. He locks the car and we walk inside.

  We stop in front of my door.

  "Can I ask you a question and will you be completely honest?" Dylan asks.

  I nod slowly.

  "Did James forget you again?"

  I cross my arms over my chest, taking my bottom lip between my teeth. I look down. "Yes," I manage to say.

  Dylan doesn't answer. I have a feeling I know what he's thinking; I'm thinking the same thing.

  I sigh and unlock my apartment. "I guess I'll see you at work," I say in a monotone.

  Dylan watches me, his eyes dilated slightly. He nods curtly and I shut the door.

  My entire being aches to know what he's involved in and who those guys really are. I shower quickly and get into bed, pulling the comforter up to my chin.

  Sleep evades me as I lay there, staring at the ceiling. What if they come for me now? What if they break in?

  Hours pass and I'm wide awake.

  Why do they even think Dylan would tell me anything? What is there for him to tell? I want to know so badly, but at the same time I don't want to put myself in any danger.

  I shoot up at every little noise. I know I'm being paranoid. I won't get any sleep this way.

  Before I know what I'm doing, my feet carry me to Dylan's door. I knock lightly, looking around me at the empty hall.

  Chapter Twenty

  After a few moments, the door opens. Dylan wears sweatpants and the same t-shirt, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

  "Katie?" He asks. "It's three in the morning." His voice is rougher than usual from drowsiness.

  "I know," I say.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I..." Now that I think about it, it's stupid. I shouldn't have woken Dylan up for this. Dylan, of all people, too. I guess my mind isn't working right.

  Dylan looks at me expectantly.

  "I can't sleep," I manage to say.

  Dylan stares at me.

  "I'm sorry, I'll go. Sorry." I start to turn when Dylan grabs my wrist.

  "Is everything okay?" He asks me.

  "Yes," I lie. "I'm fine, I--"

  "Are you sure?" He asks, cutting me off.

  I look down at his fingers curling around my wrist. I shake my head slowly.

  He lets go of my arm and steps to the side. "Come in," he says.

  I stare at him. He tilts his head slightly.

  I finally give in and step into his apartment.

  Everything is perfectly in place. The decor is modern, the walls painted grey. A flat screen TV is mounted on the wall and a dark blue couch is in front of it. The place is impeccably neat.

  Dylan walks over to the kitchen area and pulls out two mugs. He pours water into them and puts them in the microwave. I sit in a chair at the island.

  Dylan doesn't say anything as he puts a tea bag into each mug, stirring them with a spoon. He pours milk into each of them carefully.

  He slides a mug toward me.

  "No honey?" I ask.

  "No. Just milk and tea. It helps you relax."

  I've never heard of that before, but I drink it nonetheless. The tea is bitter but the milk makes it creamy. It actually doesn't taste too bad.

  "What are you afraid of?" Dylan asks me finally.

  I look down into my tea. "I've never been jumped like that before, and when you said I wasn't completely safe..." The words from my mouth sound hysterical.

  "Do you feel unsafe?"

  I shrug.

  Dylan stirs his spoon in his tea. "Nothing will happen to you, Katie," he says. "I won't let anything happen, all right?"

  I nod again.

  This is so odd, to be having tea at three in the morning in Dylan's apartment. Hours ago, we were stuck in an elevator, yelling at each other; and here Dylan is telling me he's not going to let anything happen to me.

  "What is it that you do?" I ask him.

  "I'm an accountant," he replies.

  "I know that, but...I mean, for those guys?"

  The corners of Dylan's mouth turn up. "I'm an accountant," he repeats. I stare at him confusedly. He smiles wider at my expression.

  "What are the numbers?" I clamp my mouth shut as soon as I say it. Dylan's eyes flash.

  "Numbers?"

  "When...when I followed you..."

  "Of course." Dylan runs a hand through his hair, suddenly stressed. He paces along the kitchen for a few moments. "Katie, listen to me. You can't know about any of this, especially what I do. Do you understand?"

  "But..."

  "I can't tell you. And I won't. It's not your business."

  "Isn't it my business now, since it was me that was jumped on my way home from work?"

  Dylan stops pacing. "I'm sorry that happened to you," he says. "But if I tell you anything, you'll be in even more trouble."

  "I'm in trouble now?" I ask, my voice higher pitched than usual.

  "No, no, not..." Dylan sighs, leaning onto the counter and putting his head in his hands. "This is all such a mess," he groans.

  I nod in agreement. I stare down into my tea.

  "Katie, Katie, Katie," he sighs, shaking his head. "What am I supposed to do with you now?"