Not for a Moment

by Nadirah Foxx

  Rachel

  The next two days were uneventful. No phone calls, text messages, or rock-delivered threats from Leo. If anyone asked me, I would have said it was too peaceful. To be honest, that semblance of peace scared me more than any of Leo’s previous attempts to contact me.

  Matt, however, took the situation in stride. The lack of communication from my stalker didn’t faze him in the least bit. He’d even relaxed some of his overprotective behavior around me. It was like Leo had never existed and that was equally troubling.

  Matt’s lack of concern didn’t stop me from pestering the hell out of him. But no matter how many times I asked about the investigation, he assured me that there was nothing to be concerned about.

  Eventually, he told me that the Royal Oak police wrote off the incidence as a simple lover’s quarrel that had petered out. Matt’s logic was that if the police weren’t worried about it, I shouldn’t be. Thankfully, Richard thought Leo might be dangerous and was still pursuing information.

  “What did you find out?” I asked as he took a seat on my dad’s sofa.

  “I gave your yearbook to a friend of mine who knows a handwriting analyst. Turns out the note that was thrown through your window was written by the same person.”

  A long sigh escaped my lips, and I leaned against the chair back. “You’re certain?”

  “I’m afraid so.” Richard peered down at his phone for a moment. “My friend is digging into the name Leon Allen. Now that we know it’s the same person as Kilpatrick, we have to find out which one is his real name.”

  “Why does that matter?” That confused me. His name wasn’t the threat.

  Richard adjusted his glasses. “We’ll check out the paper trail. See if this man has a rap sheet. Maybe he’s wanted for crimes in another state or just another part of Michigan. If we’re lucky, he’s a fugitive. Then, we have just cause to arrest him.”

  I nodded and gripped my coffee mug tighter. Absently, I stared down at the caramel-colored liquid, wishing for something stronger. I sighed. “Do whatever you need to do. My father and I appreciate everything you’ve done so far.”

  Richard stood. “You got it. How’s the bodyguard working out?”

  Taking that the police called off their patrols, having someone around twenty-four seven was comforting even though I didn’t like having a babysitter. “Good.”

  “Great. I’ll see myself out. Tell Harris I’ll call him later tonight.”

  After Richard left, I switched out my cup of coffee for a glass of wine and returned to the basement where I searched for my photo albums. The yearbook notation was still eating away at me. Something was weird about it. If Leo and Leon were the same person, then the mysterious message wasn’t left by some random boy. I didn’t think we attended Shrine together, so we had to have had a relationship. I just couldn’t remember it.

  Fortunately, Dad kept everything I had from high school. The bright-pink photo albums were at the bottom of the footlocker he drug out earlier in the week. I pulled them out and settled down on the floor.

  On the first few pages were mostly pictures of Crystal and me. Snapshots of her in her navy-blue and gold warm-ups filled up an entire section. She ran track while I played soccer. I wasn’t the greatest of athletes, but it’d earned me a scholarship to Oakland University. There were a few photos of me in my black-and-gold uniform. As I turned the page, the face of Shrine’s star quarterback appeared. My hand froze as I stared down at him.

  Jeff was handsome and smug and every girl’s ideal boyfriend. We met in sophomore year and hit it off right away. For two years in a row, we were homecoming king and queen. Our perfect relationship ended, though, when Mom died. Jeff couldn’t deal with my depression and erratic mood swings. I couldn’t handle his desperate attempts to take care of me.

  It was a dark time in my life. Instead of letting someone help me—my father, a priest, or an actual shrink—I turned to the bad boys. Guys who didn’t give a shit about me or anyone else. I spent the rest of my senior year running with boys whose futures might include a stint in prison. On the last page of the book was the evidence I sought—proof that Leon Allen wasn’t just a random face in a crowd. He drove a fire-engine-red Corvette and had tattoos—all of them gone. That explained why I didn’t put two and two together sooner. But the eyes were the same—dark as night and full of mischief. In the picture, Leo leaned against the hood with his arm draped around me. His dark wavy hair hung around his shoulders, and a cigarette dangled from his lips.

  The memory hit me like a tidal wave. Despite my abhorrent behavior, I remained on the soccer team. Frankly, I thought the coach felt sorry for me and didn’t have the heart to kick me off the team. I didn’t remember who introduced us, but Leon hung out during practice. The day of that snapshot he’d finally spoken to me—asked me if I wanted to go out with him for a slice of pizza.

  Carefully, I removed the snapshot and fell back against the sofa. We knew each other. We knew each other. We wore out the backseat of his car. He was also one of the boys I brought to the house and entertained in the basement. Leon was there all the time until one day he wasn’t. He simply disappeared.

  My eyes misted, and I swallowed back the sob. Yeah, Leon broke my heart back then. Did Leo remember me from our high school years? If so, where had he been all these years? Why did he leave me? Better yet: why did he insert himself back into my life?

  I dried my eyes.

  Get a grip, girl! Leo was a lot more dangerous than a bleeding heart.

  Poor choice of words.

  “Rachel! Are you here?” It was Matt.

  “Yeah.” I closed the book and sat up. “In the basement.”

  Heavy footfalls pounded the stairs. In a matter of seconds, he stood in front of me, still wearing his hockey jacket. “Hey.” Matt tilted his head and gazed down at me. “What do you have there?”

  I waved the photo in the air. “Part of a puzzle.”

  “Huh?” Matt plopped down beside me and reached for the picture. He studied it for a moment and gave it back. “Who’s this?”

  “You don’t recognize him?”

  Matt eyed me for a moment before asking, “Should I?”

  “That’s Leon Allen. We met as teenagers.” I fingered the snapshot. “Richard came by today. He did a handwriting analysis. Leon Allen and Leo Kilpatrick are the same person.”

  Silence filled the basement. My heart beat wildly in my chest. I wanted Matt to say something. Anything. Instead, he reached for the photo again.

  He spoke slowly as if choosing his words carefully. “Did you recognize Leo at the bar?”

  “No. I didn’t put two and two together. Not until I came back to Dad’s house. I had enough time to think about everything. That’s when I remembered my yearbook and something Leo said to me.”

  Matt dropped the picture. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You know that I’d never let anyone hurt you, right?”

  It was something I wanted to believe. “Yes.”

  “Has Leo contacted you recently?”

  “No.”

  “And the police are no longer investigating, right?”

  Suddenly, I didn’t like Matt’s questioning. “Where is this going?”

  He shifted and faced me. Taking my hands in his, Matt gazed into my eyes. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “I am. It’s just looking through these books…” My voice trailed off.

  He squeezed my hands. “You’re better than this, baby. Digging up all these painful memories is pointless. The picture…the yearbook… They don’t mean anything.”

  “I disagree. Richard said—”

  “No more, okay? You’re going to make yourself sick with all of this.”

  Yanking my hand from his, I said, “No. I call this being proactive. I won’t sit around and wait for Leo to strike again.”

  Matt shook his head. “You don’t need to. Do you still have your gun?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re trained. We’ve been to the g
un range together. I’m confident that you’ll use it if need be. Plus, you have your father looking out, and I’m not leaving you alone. Let’s not forget the glorified security guard hanging out on the porch. We’re all the protection you need.”

  Deep down, I knew he was right. But there was this nagging suspicion that I missed something. Some little detail that would help me if I could only discover it.

  “Listen, Rachel. Let me ask you a serious question. If Leo and Leon are the same person, where has he been all this time?” Matt tapped the snapshot. “The guy in this photo looks like he was into you. Why would he threaten you?”

  It was just one of the many things I’d been wondering lately. “What am I supposed to do? Give up?”

  “No. You don’t give up.” Matt spoke with urgency and passion. “You never give up, but what you do is play this game smarter. Go back to your normal routine. Keep the bodyguard, but stop hiding here in this house. Stalkers want to scare you. Disturb your life. Don’t let Leo do that to you.”

  He had a valid point. Ever since I came back to Dad’s, I’d wanted to return to my lifestyle. I’d had it with working from home and not hanging out with Crystal. Leo had done a great job of scaring the shit out of me. I had to stop letting him dictate my existence.

  What I didn’t understand, though, was Matt’s encouragement. The man had made it his mission to protect me, and then he was opening the door to my cage and setting me free. It made no sense.

  Matt reached out and caressed my cheek. “I’ve missed you. Come back to my loft. Let me get dinner for us. Rachel, I just want to spend some time together.”

  I grinned because that made sense too. We hadn’t had a moment alone since I moved. I just didn’t feel right sleeping with Matt under Dad’s roof—I wasn’t the same girl from high school. I’d made my mistakes and didn’t plan on repeating them.

  “Okay. I’ll leave Dad a note and pack an overnight bag.”

  “Want me to clean up this mess?”

  I glanced around at the piles of books and memorabilia. “No. I’ll clean it up when I come back tomorrow.”

  21

  Calm Before the Storm

  Rachel

  Sadly, my serenity was short-lived. As I climbed the basement stairs, the doorbell rang. With Matt close by, I didn’t give it a second thought and opened the door.

  “Hi, Rachel.”

  Leo stood on the porch with a smug expression on his handsome face. The bodyguard was conveniently missing. Mentally, I searched for my gun. Was it in my room? No, I left it in my purse, which lay on the sofa. Just a few feet away.

  “What are you doing here?” I said, summoning up more courage than I felt.

  “I’ve missed you,” he offered. “Want to invite me in?”

  I felt his presence before Matt spoke, and then I heard the click of his weapon. “Now why would she want to do that?”

  Leo lifted his palms. “You won’t shoot me.”

  “Give me a reason.”

  Something told me that Matt wouldn’t hesitate to put a slug in Leo’s chest. Watching a person die was the last thing I wanted to witness. What if the action put Matt in prison? Leo wasn’t worth wasting away in a prison cell.

  “Don’t shoot him.” Carefully, I turned around. “Put the gun down. Give me a few minutes. If he’s dumb enough to try anything—”

  “I could be too late,” Matt said solemnly but lowered his weapon. “Talk to him if you want, but I’m not going anywhere.”

  A hard conspiratorial smile slipped over Leo’s lips. His dark eyes were suddenly as cold as ice. My gaze dropped, and I noticed his fists clenching and unclenching. Leo’s deep voice snagged my attention.

  “Matt won’t hurt me. He can’t.” Leo locked eyes with Matt. “You haven’t shared your secret yet, have you?”

  Panic swelled, threatening to swallow me starting with my gut. Fear prickled my scalp. “Matt, what is he talking about?”

  Silence.

  “Leo?” I asked.

  He let out a joyless chuckle. “Don’t worry. I know how to keep things confidential.”

  I gripped the doorknob as my knees wobbled. “Leo, did you want something?”

  “Only to see you. Like I said, I missed you.” His eyes raked over me and then stopped on my hand. “You kept it?”

  “Kept…” I still held the snapshot. The edges were crinkled from my tight grasp.

  Leo reached for it, and for some inane reason, I let him take the picture. “I lost my copy years ago.” His voice cracked. “Why did you keep it?”

  “It wasn’t intentional. I found it in some of my stuff from high school.”

  He sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I was an idiot back then. I didn’t see how good I had it. Should have stayed put. Shouldn’t have left you.”

  I flinched. A confession wasn’t what I expected. Denial? Definitely. But an honest emotion bordering on an apology? Never.

  “Another lifetime.” His voice strengthened. “Can’t repeat the past.” Leo passed the picture to me.

  Our hands touched. It was a simple gesture, but hearing him say those words did something to me. For a fleeting moment, I remembered the boy I once knew. We used to talk about the future. He always said how we couldn’t repeat our pasts.

  As a teen I thought Leon was misunderstood and just needed someone to give him an honest chance in life.

  I snuggled closer to Leon in the backseat. I’d skipped class again just to be with him. Somehow, he eased the grief I’d been dealing with. The risk of detention or worse—Dad’s punishment—seemed worth it.

  “You’re lucky, Rachel,” he muttered.

  “How so?” Lucky wasn’t part of my vocabulary anymore.

  “I know you miss your mom, but at least you had her in your life. I never knew mine. Didn’t know my father either. I’ve spent my entire life bouncing from foster home to foster home.”

  “That sucks. What about the rest of your family? Brothers? Sisters?”

  He shook his head. “Nobody that matters to me.”

  “How sad,” I admitted. I was an only kid. When I was younger, I wished for siblings. I couldn’t imagine having a family that didn’t care about me. “Where do you live now?”

  “Wherever I want. I turned eighteen a few months ago. I hit the road and didn’t look back.”

  Sitting up, I searched his face, hoping it was just another one of Leon’s twisted jokes. Truth shone in his dark eyes. Suddenly, I felt bad for doubting him. “Can I do anything to help?”

  “Naw. Just having you in my life means so much.” He stroked my forearm. “I love you, Rachel St. John.”

  Those three words changed our fooling around from make-out session to making love. I stupidly gave him my heart, thinking that we’d be together forever.

  After confessing his feelings, Leon disappeared the next day. I thought maybe he’d call or stop by the house, but he never did. No cards. No letters. Nothing. It had devastated me, but I eventually moved on.

  I was an idiot. All the signs were there, but I blocked every single one. Leon did such a number on me years ago that I swore I’d forget him. And I did. God, help me.

  How could I not notice the way he walked, the way he smiled, or even the way he spoke to me? None of that changed, but I did and not for the good.

  Part of me wanted to hate Leo—punish that boy who broke my heart years prior. Yet, there was the part that wanted to sympathize with him. Maybe he wanted back into my life, but didn’t know how to do it.

  “Rachel?” It was Matt speaking. “We need to leave.”

  I shook off my memories and regret. “He’s right, Leo. As far as the past… Well, you had your chance and blew it. I’m begging you to stop this lunacy. We’re not getting back together.”

  Leo’s eyes widened as his brow furrowed. Slowly, he shook his head. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Rachel. Giving up—not even for a moment—isn’t in my vocabulary.”

  I jumped. “What did you say?”<
br />
  Too late. Leo turned on his heel and hurried down the stairs. Instead of hopping into a car, he simply walked off into the night.

  Matt placed a hand on my shoulder. “You need to be careful opening doors. Where’s the bodyguard, anyway?”

  Good question. It was answered ten minutes later when we found his body slumped over on the side of the house. Matt called the police.

  ∞∞∞

  Two hours later, we made the drive back to Matt’s place. Uneasy tranquility filled the interior of his car, both of us too afraid—or upset—to offer up a conversation. Frankly, I didn’t trust myself to speak. I’d said enough for one night.

  Matt, however, had had plenty to say. He filled the officers in on what happened. Leo became a person of interest. After talking to the cops, Matt contacted Richard and relayed the bad news. During the melee, Dad arrived and rushed into the house, assuming someone injured me or worse. Learning about the dead bodyguard didn’t lessen his concern. He wanted me to stay put. It took a lot of persuading from Matt before I could leave the premises. When I left, Dad was seriously talking about selling the house and moving out of the area.

  Matt opened his front door. I slipped past him and dropped my bag near the stairs before going to the sofa. Minutes later, he plopped down beside me and handed me a glass of white wine.

  “Rachel.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” I sipped at my drink.

  “Then I’ll talk, and you can listen.” He paused, as if waiting for me to say something. When I didn’t, he continued, “As much as you’d like to imagine that Leo is innocent, he’s not. The bodyguard—”

  “Was dead for at least an hour according to the coroner. Unless Leo was hanging around the house—”

  “He could have been,” Matt said calmly.

  Sorry, I wasn’t buying it. The bodyguard was taller than Leo. What did he do? Stand on a fucking stool to slit his throat? Nobody saw anything. As nosy as my father’s neighbors were, I didn’t believe that one either. The forensics team found footprints along the side of the house. I saw the tracks—heavily detailed like work boots or even a pair of hikers. Leo wore motorcycle boots. Granted, they were muddy, but weren’t the soles on those usually smooth?